CHAPTER II.

_SOURCES OF HEBREW MYTHOLOGY._

§ 1. If it is now established that we are justified in speaking of a Hebrew Mythology, in the same sense as of the mythologies of Indians, Hellenes, Germans, &c., then the question naturally arises, Can we come upon the track of those forms of expression and those figures which generally make up the elements of the Hebrew Myth; and Are these elements when found recognisable as elements of myths, i.e. Are they expressions and stories in which the ancient Hebrew, standing on the myth-creating stage of his intellectual development, spoke of the operations and changes of Nature? That in the abstract he was as capable as the Aryan on the same stage of development of speaking myths, we have admitted in assuming the _universality_ of the formation of myths; and of what those expressions exactly consist, and what are the mythical figures which he formed, it will be the business of a subsequent chapter to exhibit.

In this chapter our task will be limited to the discovery of the sources which we have to estimate by the method of Comparative Mythology, in order to discern the various expressions and figures of the Hebrew myth. Now both the incitement to the formation of myths and the course of development through which they pass before they are noted down in a literary age and then stiffen and undergo no further change, are based on psychological operations, the laws of which are not governed by categories of race and ethnology. It is therefore obvious, that for the understanding of the Hebrew myths we must betake ourselves to the very same class of sources which the mythologist finds fruitful on Aryan territory. Fortunately such sources are open to us on Hebrew ground also. They have, indeed, a less copious stream than those of Aryan mythology, but yet suffice to give us a picture of what the ancient Hebrew on the mythic stage thought and felt, and how he found expression in language for these thoughts and feelings. It is true, this investigation cannot be separated from another closely connected with it—what method we must employ to arrive at the germ of the myth hidden in these sources. But for the present we must still put off this second question, and content ourselves with the search for the sources of mythical matter. It will, however, not be always possible to avoid an indication of the method; and this is the case now with the first of the sources which we have to bring forward.

§ 2. _a._) We shall have to speak again further on of the question, What factors in the minds of the Hebrew people produced the conception of those _Patriarchs_, whose destinies form the most illustrious portion of their national historic writing? It will then become clear that this Patriarchal character represents only a later historical stratum of mythical development, produced by those very factors. Originally the names of the Patriarchs and the actions which are told of them signified nothing historical, but only something on the domain of Nature. The names are appellations of physical phenomena, and the actions are actions of Nature. For surely we must at the outset come to a clear understanding on the question, What is the origin of persons like Abram, Sarah, Jacob and the rest, who fill the Hebrew Patriarchal history? whence, how, and by what psychological law did they enter into the mind of the primitive Hebrews? The facile assumption that these persons and the actions with which they are concerned are mere _Fiction_ with no external foundation, is so cheap and meaningless a way of getting over the difficulties which their existence in poetry presents to the investigator, that it as impossible to adopt it as to admit the opposite equally arbitrary opinion, which makes them historical in the same sense as Goethe or Frederick the Great. Certainly they are fictions, if by that we mean that no historical persons correspond to them as human individuals; but by no means in the sense that their origin, or rather the conception of them, has no other foundation but the fancy of the poet or writer. In this sense they have actual realities corresponding to them—the events and operations of Nature, which are the main-springs of mythical language. And it is not conceivable that the oldest utterances of the human mind should have begun from anything else but from the sensations which the operations of Nature aroused in their breasts. As soon as they perceived these, occasion for myths was present; and the myths show how they became fully conscious of the operations of Nature.

The Patriarchal stories are therefore an important source for the knowledge of myths. If we loosen stratum after stratum which has been formed through the agency of psychological and historical factors over the primitive form of the myth, and have at length penetrated back to the stage at which many of the mythical appellations, through the disuse of multifarious synonymous terms, were individualised and personified, then it is easy to pick the primitive germ, the original mythic elements, out of the shell in which they had been encased. Hence it appears that the most fruitful field for mythological investigation on Hebrew territory is the Book of GENESIS, the greater part of which brings together the stories which the Hebrew people connected with the names of the Patriarchs.

§ 3. _b._) The Patriarchal legends, in such fulness and artistic finish as the remains of old Hebrew literature have preserved for us, are a distinguishing characteristic of this literature. Other nations have failed to transform their myths into such a wealth of reports about their first progenitors. What meagre accounts the Hellenes give of their national ancestors, in comparison with this rich and varied Patriarchal history! A special peculiarity of the historical development of the Hebrew people was active here, bringing the _national_ idea into the foreground, and exerting its influence in this direction on the transformation of the primitive mythological materials.[72] But instead of this, other nations, among whom our above-named example, the richly endowed Hellenes, are to be reckoned, have chosen rather to transform the figures of their myths into Gods and godborn Heroes.

The figures of Gods, which were developed out of Hebrew myths, very early retired into the background. It was partly the Canaanite influence to which the Hebrew people very early succumbed, and partly the progressing monotheistic tendency, that allowed no theology consistently developed out of mythology to maintain itself for any length of time. Of Heroes, however, there is no want in the memory of the Hebrews. In that region as well as elsewhere, the Heroes had originally borne a different meaning and belonged to mythology; and their heroic character is, on the Hebrew as well as on the Aryan domain, secondary, produced by the psychological and linguistic process which caused the natural meaning of mythological figures to vanish from the mind.

Now although these Heroes are originally gigantic persons bound to no definite place or time, yet they are gradually condensed into individuals and regarded as more and more concrete and definite. What is told of them puts off its generality and indefiniteness. They are conceived as belonging to certain places where their heroic deeds were performed—in other words, the legends of Heroes are localised. Their activity is assigned to a definite time, they are inserted in a chronological frame, in which they take up a definite position as to time. What more natural localisation of the activity of the Heroes could there be than to imagine them living in the same geographical districts as those who tell of them? The localisation of heroic legends is always enlisted in the service of patriotic feeling. Herakles and Theseus are _Greek_ patriots, heroic benefactors of the Grecian people. The determination of the time when they lived was influenced mainly by the endeavour, natural to every civilised nation, to gain a clear, comprehensive, and continuous picture of its own history. But truly historical memory does not generally go far enough back to explain with proper fulness the entire past doings of a nation. The historical beginnings of a people are lost in the mist of indefiniteness and uncertainty. What is easier than to fill up this obscure period of history by telling of the doings of the Heroes? Why, the human temper in its pessimistic mood is always inclined to fancy the very oldest age peopled with men of gigantic proportions of both body and mind, in comparison with whom the enervate present generation is a mere shadow. So we find the stories of Heroes always at the head of the national history. The history of the Greek people begins with their heroic age; and the obscure period of Hebrew history between the first entrance into Canaan and the creation of the Monarchy, the so-called time of the Judges, is likewise the frame which must hold the Hebrew heroic legends. The stories of the Hebrew Heroes group themselves round the history of this period. The second important source of knowledge of the materials of the Hebrew mythology is accordingly the cycle of stories to be found in the canonical Book of Judges. This is the mine of mythology, whose treasures Professor Steinthal has brought to light with such critical acuteness in his dissertation on the story of Samson,[73] which breaks up entirely new ground. Here for the first

time the method and results of the modern science of mythology were independently applied to the domain of Hebrew antiquity. It must be called a happy accident that the mythical character of the Hebrew heroes could be proved by so convincing an example as Shimshôn (Samson); for even the wildest scepticism cannot doubt that this name is equivalent to shemesh, ‘sun,’ and that this fact gives us an undeniable right to maintain the _solar_ significance of the hero, and to see in his battles the contest of the Sun against darkness and storms.

§ 4. _c._) But the Old Testament stories do not cease to be a source for mythological investigation exactly where the traditions of Genesis and the Book of Judges are succeeded by really historical accounts. For it is an admitted fact that, as soon as ever the myths have lost their original meaning by the personification of their figures, mythical characteristics are not limited to their proper domain, but often actually attach themselves to historical persons and historical actions. Alexander the Great, for example, is a phenomenon whose historical character could not be shaken by the very boldest criticism. Yet the story even of Alexander’s acts and fortunes has been forced to bear some characteristics of the Solar myth, traits which were originally peculiar to the Sun-hero, as especially the journey into the realm of darkness.[74] Accordingly, not every phenomenon in the traditional characteristics of which we discover solar features is mythical, even though, strictly speaking, it can scarcely be classed with history (as e.g. William Tell). It is highly erroneous to speak, as is often done, of myth and history as two opposites which exclude any third possibility.

However, there are two points to which we ought to attend when considering the attachment of mythic elements to historical phenomena. First, it is usual, as we have just mentioned, to find one or another mythical characteristic attached to historical phenomena, as we may observe (to keep on specifically Hebrew ground) in the portraiture of the character of David or of Elijah (see Chap. V. § 8). The residence of the Hebrews in Egypt, and their exodus thence under the guidance and training of an enthusiast for the freedom of his tribe, form a series of strictly historical facts, which find confirmation even in the documents of ancient Egypt. But the traditional narrative of these events, elaborated by the Hebrew people, was involuntarily associated with characteristics of that Solar myth which forms the oldest mental activity of mankind in general. Thus, for example, the passage through the sea by night is to be compared with the myth of the setting sun, which travels all night through the sea, and rises again in the morning on the opposite side. Similarly, we find attached to the picture of the life of Moses, which the Biblical narrative presents with a theocratic colouring, solar characteristics, indeed more specifically features of the myth of Prometheus. These have been clearly exhibited by Steinthal in his fine Treatise on the Prometheus-story, to which I will here only refer without reproducing its contents.[75] Secondly, we must consider the converse relation—that historical facts, the names of the agents of which have not been preserved in the popular mind, may be attached to mythical names. We can go back to the time of the Judges for an example of this. It is evidently real history that we read of the embittered contests waged by the Hebrews in that age against the Philistines and other tribes of Canaan. Remembrance of these contests, in the absence of historical names, helped itself out by the mythical appellations which, after the individualising of mythical figures, had obtained significance as personal names. In the first case the bearers of the names are historical persons, and the features of the story belong to mythology; in the second, history is wedded to mythical names. In both directions, accordingly, the Hebrew history treated critically is a source for mythological investigation.

§ 5. _d._) One of the most reliable, but at the same time most hazardous, sources of Hebrew, as of Aryan, mythological investigation is the _language_ itself, and above all, the appellations to which the myth is attached. These appellations, which in the process of transformation of the original meaning of the myth became personal names, are in their proper original sense appellatives; and we have to find the appellative signification in order to establish the mythological character. In this investigation it is best to follow the method, the use of which in Aryan mythology has brought such brilliant results to light. In many appellations the appellative sense can be found without much difficulty, being explicable from the language itself, in our case from the known treasures of the Hebrew tongue. In others the known material of the Hebrew language refuses its aid, and we must then take refuge in a cautious employment of the group of allied languages, i.e. the Semitic stock. In this connexion we must never leave out of sight the fact that the treasury of Hebrew words which is contained in the books of the Old Testament does not even approximately embrace the wealth of the ancient Hebrew vocabulary which we are enabled to infer from this fraction. In the proper names much ancient linguistic property is preserved which occurs nowhere else. The discovery of the appellative signification of mythological proper names consequently does an important service to mythological investigation, by finding a tangible starting-point for the determination of the mythical sense of the root-word in question. But it does more: it also fills up gaps in the Hebrew lexicon, and rescues many an old component part of that important language, which otherwise would remain utterly unknown.

An example will make this clear, and show that linguistic investigation and mythology have an equal share in the instruction to be derived from such inquiries.

We often meet in Hebrew with the verb hishkîm, denoting ‘to perform some occupation early in the morning’ (the occupation itself being determined by a dependent verb), ὀρθρεύειν. It represents the so-called _Hiphʿîl_-stem, which has regularly the sense of a factitive, but is not unfrequently used to express the entrance into a certain time or place, the doing of an act in certain conditions of time or place. In this case the Hiphʿîl verb is always derived from the noun which describes this place or time. Here the conditions of time concern us most. We say, for instance, heʿerîbh with the sense ‘to enter on the evening,’ ‘to do something in the evening;’ e.g. ‘the Philistine came near _morning and evening_,’ hashkêm we-haʿarêbh (I Sam. XVII. 16). The last word is derived from the noun ʿerebh, ‘evening.’ From the word shachar, which denotes ‘the dawn,’ is formed at a late stage of the language hishchîr, ‘to do something at that time;’ and this Hiphʿîl form of shachar can then appear beside that from ʿerebh exactly like hishkîm in an earlier age.[76] Now of course this verb hishkîm must have a noun for its basis, which would denote ‘morning.’ But no such is found in the known Hebrew thesaurus, for the nominal form belonging to this root, shekhem, means ‘neck,’ and etymologists have given themselves much useless labour in trying to find any tolerable connexion between the meaning of this noun and hishkîm. The most bearable which they could give is that one who rises early to go after his business loads his neck with labour.[77] But any one may reply, Does one who does his work after dinner or in the evening load his neck with no labour? Considering the relation in which these Hiphʿîl-forms stand to the nouns from which they are derived, we might almost _a priori_ assert that in the ancient language shekhem must have denoted ‘morning’ also. And in this instance mythological inquiry offers us the safest clue. The name _Shekhem_ [Shechem] figures in the Hebrew myth as the ravisher of Dinah, Jacob’s daughter. Without anticipating the analysis of this myth, which fits into the context of one of the next chapters, we immediately recognise in the mythic name _Shekhem_ the noun from which the verb hishkîm is derived. Thus the mythical appellation refers to the early morning, the red glow, as the ravisher of the sun; and the same amorous connexion is expressed in various ways in the Aryan mythology also.

No one can deny that the consideration of the myth has here enriched the knowledge of the old Hebrew vocabulary; and thus, even on Hebrew ground, mythology and linguistic studies go hand in hand. This makes the investigation of language one of the richest sources for the discovery of the mythical ideas of early humanity.

§ 6. _e._) While the circle of thoughts which guide the prose style moves on the level of the general principles current at the time of the writer, poetical language and style, on the other hand, have a tendency to adopt modes of expression produced in a long past age in accordance with the ideas then prevalent. These modes of expression, when they arose, corresponded accurately with the general ideas of the time, and had the signification which the _literal sense_ yields; they were used whenever occasion offered for their employment, and everyone understood what was meant by them, for the thought would in that age never be expressed otherwise. The poetical language of a later time preserves such modes of expression even when their significance in the general conception of things is lost, and the occurrences thereby indicated are imagined in a different way altogether; the language then becomes _figurative_, as it is called.[78] Thus the language of the Hebrew poetry and of those writers who speak in a lofty style bordering on that of poetry, and are called Prophets, preserves many of the modes of expression derived from the ancient mythological ideas of the world. Mythical material may consequently be found now and then here also.

When e.g. Isaiah says (XIV. 28), ‘I will sweep it with the besom of destruction,’ this is what we call a poetic figure—destruction being pictured as a broom that sweeps away from the surface of the earth those who are to be destroyed. But from another side it is seen to be something more and different from a mere poetical figure, since its origin is due, not to an artistic idea of the speaker, but to an old-world mythical conception here employed figuratively, a conception which occurs in many cycles of mythology. For instance, the Maidens of the Plague are represented with brooms in their hands, with which they sweep before house-doors and bring death into the village.[79] But Isaiah says again (XXVII. 1) that ‘Jahveh with his sore and great and strong sword shall punish Leviathan the piercing serpent, even Leviathan that crooked serpent, and he shall slay the dragon (tannîn) that is in the sea;’ and Job (XXVI. 13), in his grand picture of the contest which Jahveh wages against the tempest, and the defeat of the latter by the omnipotence of Jahveh, says ‘By his breath the heavens are brightened; his hand has pierced the flying serpent (nâchâsh bârîach)’; and the prophet living in the Babylonian captivity addresses Jahveh in the following words (Is. LI. 9): ‘Awake, awake, put on strength, O arm of Jahveh! awake, as in the ancient days, in the generations of old! Art thou not it that didst kill the monster (rahabh), and wound the dragon (tannîn?)’ &c.[80] In these expressions we observe that prophets and poets employ the long outgrown and obsolete notions of the myth of the battle of the Sun against the flying serpent (Lightning) and against the recumbent or curved serpent (Rain)—the monsters which want to devour the Sun, but which the Sun shoots down with his arrows (Rays) or wounds with a volley of stones; or else of the myth of the battle of the Sun already set against the monster that lies in wait at the bottom of the sea to devour him (a myth which is also preserved in the story of Jonah), only that the monotheistic mind substituted Jahveh for the Sun. Many prophets frequently speak in a perfectly general way, without reference to a definite historical event, of a passage through the sea. This is by no means a reminiscence of the Passage of the Red Sea, as an event in the primeval history of the Hebrew people, unless a pointed reference is made to that; it is another application of an old mythical notion of the course taken by the Sun-hero after sunset through the sea, so as to shine again on the following morning on the opposite shore. Indeed, that Hebrew story of the Exodus itself, as we have indicated, is only a myth transformed into history by a process which we can follow, step by step, in the history of the evolution of Mythology. This becomes very clear when we examine the sequel of the above-quoted words of the anonymous Prophet of the Captivity (Is. LI. 10): ‘Art not thou it which dryeth the sea, the waters of the great deep; that maketh the depths of the sea a way for the ransomed to pass over?’ What is pictured in this verse is in the mind of the speaker an event of the same character as that referred to in the preceding verse—the killing of the Rahabh and the wounding of the Tannîn. The description of Canaan, too, as a land ‘flowing with milk and honey,’ points back to the myth of a sun-land; for the myths call the rays of the sun and moon ‘milk and honey,’ regarding the moon as a bee[81] and the sun as a cow. In Excursus E we shall speak of the mythological conception of rays of light as fluids. Palestine, which the writer wished to pourtray as possessed of every blessing, thus receives attributes which the myth gave to a place above the earth, whence the blessings of light streamed down to it. It is noteworthy that in the Çatapatha Brâhmaṇa the same mythic conception which is employed poetically in Hebrew meets us tinged already with an eschatological colour. This work (XI. 5. 6. 4) makes _milk and honey_ flow in the abodes of the Blest.[82] We also see from this that the notion of a ‘poetical figure’ requires frequent limitation. Many apparently poetical figures have their origin in an ancient mythical conception. Not everything that has the look of a poetical or rhetorical figure is one. Who would doubt, for instance, on a superficial glance, that such a phrase as nâr al-ḥarb, ‘the fire of war,’ was a figure of poetry or rhetoric? Yet it is not; it is not derived from what only exists in the fancy of the speaker, but from something which has a concrete, objective existence. We learn this from the Arabic commentary on the proverb Nâr al-ḥarb asʿaru, ‘the fire of war is burning.’ The scholiast[83] says ‘When the ancient Arabs began a war, they used to light a fire, to serve as a beacon for those eager for the fight.’ It is also said (of the Jews): ‘As often as they light a fire for war, Allâh extinguishes it.’[84] Thus the fire of war of which the ancient Arabs spoke was only a material or natural one.

§ 7. _f._) The Hebrew mythic tradition is not contained exclusively in the Old Testament. This canon, indeed, was very far from receiving all the remains of the old myths that were current among the people in an historical transformation. Much of it is contained in the tradition which was not incorporated with the canon, especially in the so-called Rabbinical _Agâdâ_, which contains many a treasure of as high an antiquity as the mythological sources which we have named within the canon. In the discovery of such elements in the Agâdâ circumspection and cautious criticism are necessary, because the valuable portion is only an excessively small fraction of the whole, and has to be picked out of a preponderating mass of very different character. Still we must acknowledge the Agâdâ as a source for the discovery of the old Hebrew myths. It has indeed already been employed for this purpose, though not always wisely. The learned Professor F.L.W. Schwartz has referred to this source,[85] and Julius Braun goes even too far in his mythological estimate of the Agâdâ, when he says without limitation,[86] ‘The Rabbinical stories are anything but arbitrary inventions; they are echoes of primeval memories only refused entrance into the Bible by the compilers of the canon. If Rabbinical erudition sometimes makes unfortunate attempts to confirm extrabiblical tradition by a Biblical quotation, and to prove its existence in Biblical times by imagined allusions, this is no proof that the whole tradition is only a speculation derived from misunderstood Bible-words.’ But Braun makes a very bad use of the Rabbinical tradition, and vies with the foolish writer Nork in taking from right and left without selection or judgment whatever he can find, not caring whether it is Veda or Bible, Homer or the Fathers, cuneiform inscriptions or some obscure allegorical writer.

The Agâdâ in many places gives names to persons who are mentioned in the Bible without name; and these names have frequently so antique a stamp, that we cannot suppose them to be due to the capricious invention of the Agadists.[87] I believe that when these names appear justified by internal evidence (i.e. when they show themselves quite fitting to the nature of the myth), they may be ancient and important for mythological inquiry. Of course we must not be ruled by excessive optimism, nor ever forget the freedom with which the Agadic fancy rules in its own sphere.[88] The same may be said also of the identifications, of which the Agadists are very fond, and of the genealogical statements, which, though deserving little attention from the historical point of view, may have their origin in an old myth. So e.g. the Targûm on I Sam. XVII. 4 calls Samson the father of Goliath.[89] Now Goliath is the giant whom ‘the reddish hero with fine face’ overcomes by throwing stones; in other words, the Sun-hero throws stones at the monster of the storm. Thus the myth may very well say that the Sun (Samson) is the father of this hostile giant of the night, just as the Sun in various forms frequently appears in the character of father or mother of the Night.

It is easily intelligible how difficult it must be to determine the mythological value of every such statement; and we have consequently made very scanty use of this source. It might be relatively safer to use them when they speak not merely of names and genealogies, but of actual stories. The Abram-story especially has preserved in its Agadic form much matter from ancient myths, the valuation of which by B. Beer, in a lucid compilation on this very portion of the Agâdâ,[90] is easily accessible. So e.g. the battle of Abram against Nimrod, which the myth-investigator must take as the contest between the Nightly heaven and the Sun, is known only from the Agâdâ; the Scripture says not a word of it. For the solar character of Nimrod, which is however independently clear from the Biblical statements, the Agâdâ has again preserved a valuable datum, viz. that 365 kings (equal to the days of the solar year) appear ministering to him.[91] This is the same conception of the myth as that Enoch, of whom again the solar event of the Ascension is preserved only in tradition, lived 365 years; or that Helios had herds of 350 cattle (7 herds of 50 each); and that in the Veda the Sun-god is blessed with 720 twin children, i.e. 360 days and nights,[92] and that his chariot is drawn by seven horses, i.e. the seven days of the week.[93]

The Agâdâ, again, has preserved the following mythical expression, which Professor Schwartz interprets in this sense:[94] ‘Abraham was in possession of a precious stone which he wore round his neck all his life; when he died, God took the stone and hung it on the Sun.’[95] As has been fully proved with regard to Aryan mythology, especially by Schwartz and Kuhn, the myth calls the sunshine and other luminous bodies stones in general, or more specifically precious stones.[96] By night, as long as Abraham (the nightly heaven) lives, he bears the precious stone himself; when the night dies, God takes this stone (the moonlight) and hangs it on the sun.

How cautiously we must proceed in the mythological application of the Agâdâ, is obvious to all who know the nature and origin of the Agâdâ and the Agadic collections. I will adduce one other example to show how easily one might be led astray by yielding too trustingly and unconditionally to the temptation to employ this source in the interpretation of myths.

In the course of our investigations, it will become certain that Jacob belongs to the series of mythical figures which are connected with the nightly heaven. How easily would this conception be disturbed, if we were to accord to all the Agâdâ an absolute voice among the sources of Hebrew mythical investigation! For there it is said in reference to Gen. XXVIII. 11: ‘He (Jacob) reached that place and passed the night there, for _the sun was come_ (kî bhâ hash-shemesh), i.e. had set.’ On this the Agadist Chaggî of Sephoris remarks, 'This sentence indicates that Jacob, when he was in Bethel, heard the welcoming voices of the angels: "The Sun is come, the Sun is come," i.e. Jacob himself. Many years later, when Jacob’s son Joseph told his father the dream in which an allusion is made to Jacob as if he were the Sun (XXXVII. 9, 10), Jacob thought to himself, ‘Who has informed my son that my name is Sun?’[97]

I must point out one other peculiarity in this part of the subject. Sometimes the Agadists utilise mythological elements, by supplementing the old mythic tradition with something added by themselves, _based on some one of their hermeneutic principles_, but which could not possibly be also a portion of the old myth. An example will elucidate this. We will not lay down dogmatically, nor on the other hand dispute the possibility, that the name Bileʿâm _Balaam_ is mythical. It signifies ‘the Devourer,’ and has consequently been identified for centuries with the Arabic Loḳmân, which has the same meaning.[98] Accordingly Balaam would originally have been a name of the monster which devours the sun. It is not uncommon in mythology to find wisdom, cunning and prudence attributed to the powers hostile to the sun. Hence the serpent appears in the myth endowed with wisdom. This justifies Balaam’s character as sage and prophet; the serpent delivers oracles, or is οἰωνός.[99] Balaam is son of Beʿôr, or ‘the Shining’—a mythical expression which often occurs when the darkness is described as springing from the daylight; and the Agâdâ may be using mythic elements in identifying this Beʿôr with Lâbhân ‘the White.’[100] So this myth, like many others, would then have been _nationalised_ by the influence of factors, which will be fully described in the Seventh Chapter. The Devourer of the Sun became a Devourer of the Hebrew people, just as the Sun-hero became the Hebrew national hero. Personations of the storms are often exhibited in mythology as lame and limping.[101] This feature, which is not ascribed to Balaam in the Bible, is found in the Agâdâ, which says, Bileʿâm chiggêr beraglô achath hâyâ, ‘Balaam was lame of one foot.’ So far all is regular. But then follows, Shimshôn chiggêr bishtê raglâw hâyâ, ‘Samson was lame of both feet’[102]—a feature which does not suit the Sun-hero. We must consider that this latter is an inference drawn by the Agâdâ in virtue of one of its hermeneutic principles, thus: Balaam’s lameness is attached to the word shephî, ‘hill, high place,’ Num. XXIII. 3; the word shephîphôn, ‘serpent,’ Gen. XLIX. 17 (in the declaration concerning Dan, which the Agadists take as referring to Samson the Danite), must according to the Agadists’ hermeneutics express by its form a doubling of the notion conveyed by shephî.[103]

Thus only what is said about Balaam could possibly belong to the old myth; what is said about Samson is late Agadic induction, which has no importance whatever for mythology.

Footnote 72:

We shall treat of this in the Third Section of Chapter VIII.

Footnote 73:

Translated and given as an Appendix to this volume.—TR.

Footnote 74:

How readily Alexander’s history was combined with the Solar myth is best proved by the fact that Arabian tradition gives Alexander a Sun-name, the variously interpreted Ḏû-l-karnein = the Horned, i.e. the Beaming.

Footnote 75:

Translated and given as an Appendix to this volume.—TR.

Footnote 76:

_Wayyiḳrâ rabbâ_, sect. XIX.: hishchîr we-heʿerîbh.

Footnote 77:

See Gesenius, _Thesaurus_, p. 1406. _b._

Footnote 78:

See Hermann Cohen’s dissertation, _Die dichterische Phantasie und der Mechanismus des Bewusstseins_, in the _Zeitschrift für Völkerpsychologie_, &c. 1869, VI. 239 _et seq._

Footnote 79:

On the German legends in which this idea occurs see Henne-Am-Rhyn, _Die deutsche Volkssage_, Leipzig 1874, p. 268 _et seq._

Footnote 80:

See Ps. LXXIV. 13–14; LXXXIV. 11. There is nothing to justify those interpreters who, caring nothing for the remains of ancient myths, always wish to understand by _Rahabh_ and _Tannîn_ the kingdom of Egypt.

Footnote 81:

Angelo de Gubernatis, _Zoological Mythology_, II. 217. On the meaning of milk and honey in the Hebrew myth, Steinthal has written exhaustively in his Treatise on the Story of Samson, given in the Appendix.

Footnote 82:

See Weber in the _Zeitschrift der D. M. G._, 1855, IX. 238.

Footnote 83:

Al-Meydânî, _Majmaʿ al-amthâl_, II. 203.

Footnote 84:

_Korân_, Sûr. V. v. 69.

Footnote 85:

_Sonne, Mond und Sterne_ [i.e. Bd. I. of _Die poetischen Naturanschauungen_, &c.], p. 4.

Footnote 86:

_Die Naturgeschichte der Sage_, I. 127.

Footnote 87:

See Excursus A.

Footnote 88:

Such names have often planted themselves firmly in popular tradition, and are accordingly mentioned in various quarters with perfect uniformity. So e.g. Ιαννῆς and Ιαμβρῆς, who appear both in Rabbinical writings and in 2 Tim. III. 8 (see Jablonski, _Opuscula_, ed. Te Water, II. 23).

Footnote 89:

See Wilhelm Bacher’s treatise, _Kritische Untersuchungen zum Prophetentargûm_ (_Zeitschrift der D. M. G._ 1874, XXVIII. 7).

Footnote 90:

_Leben Abraham’s nach Auffassung der jüdischen Sage_, Leipzig 1859. Another good compilation is that of Hamburger, _Geist der Hagada_, Leipzig 1857, I. 39–50.

Footnote 91:

_Bêth ham-midrâsh: Sammlung kleiner Midrashim und vermischter Abhandlungen aus der jüdischen Literatur_, ed. Ad. Jellinck, Vienna 1873, V. 40.

Footnote 92:

Max Müller, _Essays_ [German translation of _Chips_], II. 147; not in the English.

Footnote 93:

Rigveda, L. 8; CCCXCIX. 9.

Footnote 94:

_Sonne, Mond und Sterne_, p. 4.

Footnote 95:

Bab. Bâbhâ bathrâ, fol. 16. _b._

Footnote 96:

See Kuhn, _Ueber Entwickelungsstufen der Mythenbildeng (Abhandl. der kön. Akad. d. W._ 1873, Berlin 1874), p. 144.

Footnote 97:

Berêshîth rabbâ, sect. 68.

Footnote 98:

See on the other side Ewald, _History of Israel_ (2nd or 3rd ed.), II. 214.

Footnote 99:

Welcker, _Griechische Götterlehre_, Gottingen 1857, I. 66.

Footnote 100:

I find this identification, it is true, only in later books, Tânâ de-bhê Elîyâ, c. 27; Sêder ʿôlâm, c. 21; see Halâkhôth gedôlôth (hilkhôth haspêd). In the Sêder had-dôrôth, under the year 2189, Beor is called son of Laban. On Laban see Chap. V. § 11. Besides the name Loḳmân, which in signification corresponds with Bileʿâm (Balaam), we find in the Preislamite genealogy of the Arabs, which in my opinion is largely mixed up with mythical names, the chief Balʿâʾu, who is said to have been a leper (Ibn Dureyd, _Kitâb al-ishtiḳâḳ_, p. 106. 8). It should be observed that this is a man’s name with the grammatical form of a feminine adjective.

Footnote 101:

See Chap V. § 10 end.

Footnote 102:

Sôṭâ, fol. 10. _a._

Footnote 103:

See Excursus B.