Chapter IX: Introduction (7)

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_,
ii. 33, it is doubtful if the grammatical argument can be
sustained; but if it had any force it ought certainly to lead
to the excision of the second member rather than of the first
(Kuenen _Theologisch Tijdschrift_, 1884, 136; van Doorninck,
_ib._, 1905, 225 f.; Eerdmans, _ib._ 494 ff.). A more important
point is the absence of את before the definite object. The
writer’s use of this participle is very discriminating; and
its omission suggests that ⁹ᵇ is really a nominal clause, as
rendered above. If we were to indulge in analysis of sources,
we might put ⁹ᵇ (in whole or in part) after ⁸ᵃ, and assign it to
that secondary stratum of narrative which undoubtedly spoke of a
tree of life (3²²).

* * * * *

=9.= _all sorts of trees ... food_] The primitive vegetation is conceived as consisting solely of trees, on whose fruit man was to subsist; the appearance of herbs is a result of the curse pronounced on the ground (3¹⁷ ᶠᐧ).――_and the tree of life_ (was) _in the midst_] On Budde’s strictures on the form of the sentence, _v.i._ The intricate question of the two trees must be reserved for separate discussion (pages 52 f., 94); for the present form of the story both are indispensable. The tree of life, whose fruit confers immortality (3²²; compare Proverbs 3¹⁸ 11³⁰ 13¹² 15⁴; further, Ezekiel 47¹², Revelation 22²), is a widely diffused idea (see Dillmann 49; Wünsche, _Die Sagen vom Lebensbaum und Lebenswasser_). The tree of knowledge is a more refined conception; its property of communicating knowledge of good and evil is, however, magical, like that of the other; a connexion with oracular trees (Lenormant, _Les Origines de l’histoire_ i. 85 f.; Baudissin, _Studien zur semitischen Religionsgeschichte_ ii. 227) is not so probable. As to what is meant by ‘knowing good and evil,’ see page 95 ff.

The primitive Semitic tree of life is plausibly supposed by
Barton (_A Sketch of Semitic Origins_¹, 92 f.) to have been
the date-palm; and this corresponds to the sacred palm in
the sanctuary of Ea at Eridu (IV R. 15*), and also to the
conventionalised sacred tree of the seals and palace-reliefs,
which is considered to be a palm combined with some species of
conifer. Compare also the sacred cedar in the cedar forest of
_Gilgamesh_, _Tablets_ IV. V. For these and other Babylonian
parallels, see _Das Alte Testament im Lichte des alten Orients_²,
195 ff.

=10.= _a river issued_ (or _issues_) _from Eden_] The language does not necessarily imply that the fountain-head was outside the garden (Driver, Bennett); the verb יָצָא is used of the rise of a stream at its source (Exodus 17⁶, Numbers 20¹¹, Judges 15¹⁹, Ezekiel 47¹, Zechariah 14⁸, Joel 4¹⁸). Whether the participle expresses past or present time cannot be determined.――_from thence it divides itself_] The river issues from the garden as a single stream, then divides into four branches, which are the four great rivers of the world. The site of Paradise, therefore, is at the common source of the four rivers in question (page 62‒66 below). That is the plain meaning of the verse, however inconsistent it may be with physical geography.――=11.= _Pîšôn_] The name occurs (along with Tigris, Euphrates, Jordan, and Gihon) in Sirach 24²⁵, but nowhere else in Old Testament. That it was not a familiar name to the Hebrews is shown by the topographical description which follows. On the various speculative identifications, see Delitzsch and Dillmann, and page 64 f. below.――_the whole land of Ḥăvîlāh_] The phraseology indicates that the name is used with some vagueness, and considerable latitude. In 10⁷ᐧ ²⁹ 25¹⁸ etc., Ḥavilah seems to be a district of Arabia (see page 202); but we cannot be sure that it bears the same meaning in the mythically coloured geography of this passage.――=12.= Two other products of the region are specified; but neither helps to an identification of the locality.――_bĕdōlaḥ_] a substance well known to the Israelites (Numbers 11⁷), is undoubtedly the fragrant but bitter gum called by the Greeks βδέλλιον or βδέλλα. Pliny (_Naturalis Historia_, xii. 35 f.) says the best kind grew in Bactriana, but adds that it was found also in Arabia, India, Media, and Babylonia.――_the šōham stone_] A highly esteemed gem (Job 28¹⁶), suitable for engraving (Exodus 28⁹ etc.), one of the precious stones of Eden (Ezekiel 28¹³), and apparently used in architecture (1 Chronicles 29²). From the Greek equivalents it is generally supposed to be either the onyx or the beryl (_v.i._). According to Pliny, the latter was obtained from India, the former from India and Arabia (_Naturalis Historia_, xxxvii. 76, 86).――=13.= _Gîḥôn_] The name of a well on the East of Jerusalem (the Virgin’s spring: 1 Kings 1³³ etc.), which Abraham Ibn Ezra strangely takes to be meant here. In Jewish and Christian tradition it was persistently identified with the Nile (Sirach 24²⁷; LXX of Jeremiah 2¹⁸ [where שִׁחוֹר is translated Γηών]; Josephus _Antiquities of the Jews_ i. 39, and the Fathers generally). The great difficulty of that view is that the Nile was as well known to the Hebrews as the Euphrates, and no reason appears either for the mysterious designation, or the vague description appended to the name.――_land of Kûš_] Usually Ethiopia; but see on 10⁶.――=14.= _Ḥiddeḳel_] is certainly the Tigris, though the name occurs only once again (Daniel 10⁴).――_in front of ’Aššûr_] Either between it and the spectator, or to the east of it: the latter view is adopted by nearly all commentaries; but the parallels are indecisive, and the point is not absolutely settled. Geographically the former would be more correct, since the centre of the Assyrian Empire lay East of the Tigris. The second view can be maintained only if אַשּׁוּר be the city which was the ancient capital of the Empire, now _Ḳal‛at Šerḳāt_ on the West bank of the river. But that city was replaced as capital by Kalḫi as early as 1300 B.C., and is never mentioned in Old Testament. It is at least premature to find in this circumstance a conclusive proof that the Paradise legend had wandered to Palestine before 1300 B.C. (Gressmann, _Archiv für Religionswissenschaft._, x. 347).――_Euphrates_] The name (פְּרָת) needed no explanation to a Hebrew reader: it is the נָהָר _par excellence_ of the Old Testament (Isaiah 8⁷ and often).

_The site of Eden._――If the explanation given above of verse
¹⁰ be correct,――and it is the only sense which the words will
naturally bear,――it is obvious that a real locality answering
to the description of Eden exists and has existed nowhere on
the face of the earth. The Euphrates and Tigris are not and
never were branches of a single stream; and the idea that two
other great rivers sprang from the same source places the whole
representation outside the sphere of real geographical knowledge.
In ¹⁰⁻¹⁴, in short, we have to do with a semi-mythical geography,
which the Hebrews no doubt believed to correspond with fact,
but which is based neither on accurate knowledge of the region
in question, nor on authentic tradition handed down from the
ancestors of the human race. Nevertheless, the question where
the Hebrew imagination located Paradise is one of great interest;
and many of the proposed solutions are of value, not only for
the light they have thrown on the details of ¹⁰⁻¹⁴, but also for
the questions they raise as to the origin and character of the
Paradise-myth. This is true both of those which deny, and of
those which admit, the presence of a mythical element in the
geography of ¹⁰⁻¹⁴.