[The conjurer here addresses the brother and promises the release of his dead sister from the power of Allatu. The poem continues:]

[Now the spell takes effect. The spirit of the departed sister rises from Sheol:]

THE MAGNA DEA OF THE NATIONS.

It is quite certain that the cult of this goddess-mother played a more important part in the world of primitive mankind than the cult of a God the Father, the male deity of a later age. The goddess of love and life under whatever name she may have been known, as Our Lady, the Queen of Heaven, the Mistress of the World, the holy mother genetrix of all living creatures, the Dea optima maxima or Most High Goddess, was practically the same all over the world. We may not be mistaken if we attribute the height of her worship to the age of matriarchy. In prehistoric times the Magna Dea was looked up to with awe and reverence, possibly even with a devotion more ardent than in a later period. The Ancient of Days or Jupiter, i. e., Diespiter, the father of time and light, was symbolized by the all-embracing sky and also by the sun. The Greeks called him Zeus, a name pronounced dzeus, connected with the Latin deus and dies, and Sanskrit deva, the creator and ruler of the world. The Magna Dea was the all-mother, and it is but to be expected that when the social conditions of matriarchy changed into the age of the patriarchs the reverence for an all-mother was superseded by the worship of an all-father.

The Magna Dea was all in all to mankind. Her emblem as the goddess of vegetation and of the sustenance of life was the apple or pomegranate. As the goddess of the human soul she is represented as a bird like the Egyptian representation of the soul, a human-headed hawk; or as a dove, the symbol which later on represents the gnostic Sophia, the mother of the child-god, and in Christian dogmatology, the Holy Ghost.

Originally the deity was triune in India, in Egypt, and in other countries. In India we become acquainted with Brahma, Vishnu and Shiva, the Creator, the Revealer (or Avatar), and the Transformer (i. e., the one who destroys and renews). In Babylon the universe is divided into the three kingdoms of Heaven, Water and Earth under the three rulers, Anu, Ea and Marduk; and in Egypt men worshiped God the father or Osiris, God the mother or Isis, and God the child or Horus. Similar trinities are met with in other religions, and the Christian Trinity, although not taught by Jesus, is one of the oldest doctrines of the Christian church. Here indeed the Egyptian conception of God as father, mother and child makes its first appearance in the apocryphal writings, for there are passages in heretical gospels where Jesus speaks of the Holy Ghost as his mother. This idea might have been accepted as an orthodox thought if the age had not been strongly ascetic and dualistic, but on that account the feminine character of the Holy Ghost became offensive to the fathers of the church. In Hebrew the Holy Ghost as Ruah was still conceived as a brooding pigeon, but among the Gentile Christians the conception of the third person of the Trinity was translated by the neuter noun πνεῡμα and in Latin by the masculine spiritus. Nevertheless the old symbol of the brooding pigeon was retained and a feminine designation such as Sophia, the consort of God, was occasionally tolerated in the Greek church and among the Gnostics.

Wings have always been the symbol of thought,

and serve as a simile to represent the soul not only in Egyptian mythology but also in Babylon and on the Greek islands. A human-headed bird attributed to a primitive period of Babylonian civilization has

been interpreted as the soul of Semiramis, and may represent either a dead person or the goddess of the dead, and the same idea is expressed in a little figurine of the Greek islands which shows us a

female deity with a dove on her head. We can scarcely be mistaken if we interpret this little figurine as an amulet denoting the goddess whose emblem is the dove. Whether the figure represent the goddess herself with her emblematic bird or whether it be the portrait of a dead person protected by the dove, is of secondary importance. The main truth on which we insist here is that the dove is the emblem of the great goddess to whom people look for salvation in the dark beyond. Thus flocks of pigeons enjoyed great liberties in Hierapolis, the holy city of Syria,—probably in the same way that the pigeons in St. Mark’s place are befriended in Venice both by the inhabitants and by foreign visitors.

Another emblem of the goddess of womanhood is the fish, as is fully described in Lucian’s most interesting treatise “On the Syrian Goddess.” In Egypt Isis has been represented with a fish surmounting her head as an emblematic ornament.

In some parts of Greece the hare or rabbit has also been sacred to Aphrodite, unquestionably on account of the fertility of that animal. Even to-day in Christian times the Easter hare and the egg are the symbols of spring, and the Easter festival cannot be celebrated without them.

A remarkable monument has been discovered in Boghaz-Köi in Cappadocia. It represents a procession of gods standing on their symbolic animals, and what interests us mainly is that it portrays the meeting of a god and a goddess, he standing on human beings, she on an animal which is apparently a lioness. Among her followers is a man on a leopard and two figures standing on a double-headed eagle. The idea of this symbol was carried to Europe by crusaders and became the emblem

of the Holy Roman empire; it is still retained in the imperial arms of Austria and has also been accepted by the Czar of Russia. The subject of this monument in Cappadocia is still considered as under question. There is no explanation and there are no ancient books that can throw light upon it. But the composition speaks for itself. We see here the great goddess meeting the heroic god—whatever names they may have borne.

Marduk (or Melkarth or Bel or Baal) is a deity who rises to sovereignty through his victory over the powers of evil, and the climax of his life consists

in his marriage. Can this great sculpture refer to any other topic than the festive occasion of the victorious god’s marriage ceremonial when he meets the great bridal goddess?[29]

The name Istar has been traced also in the Phenician word Astarte. The goddess was held in high esteem in Phenicia and was regarded also as the patroness of navigation. Coins represent her standing on the prow of a ship, and, strange to say, very frequently she carries a Latin cross in her arms. Beside the cross her emblems are also the moon and the swastika, and the latter is frequently found on her dress, and in one very archaic leaden figurine discovered by Schliemann in the ruins of Troy, the swastika is placed on her body to indicate the mysterious power of procreation. The idol was apparently intended to be carried in the hand, for its lower part ends in a shapeless stick.

From the excavations of Cyprus we reproduce

the picture of a well-preserved statue of Astarte which must have been the recipient of offerings before an altar in some of the ancient temples (p. 106).

A beautiful modern picture of Astarte has been worked out by Sargent in his frescoes on the walls of the Boston Public Library, and we can see on this very picture her similarity to Murillo’s ideal of Mary in his many paintings of the “Immaculate Conception.”

*  *  *

There is a counterpart of the western Magna Dea in eastern Asia, but we no longer know it in its primitive form and have it only as it is represented in art in the shape of a Buddhist deity, a kind of female Buddha, called in China Kwan-Yon and in Japan, Benten. Here again in some cases we find that the fish is her symbol as it is that of the Syrian goddess, and she frequently presents a remarkable similarity to the Christian Virgin Mary. She is never pictured naked like the Greek Aphrodite but is always dressed in the most scrupulously decent fashion.[30]

One picture of Kwan-Yon with the fish bears an inscription which is a poetical expression of wonder at the mystery of incarnation, and following a literal translation we render it into English as follows:

The Chinese deity Kwan-Yon may, for all we know, be the Magna Mater of most primitive China. At least she was an ancient popular goddess. When Buddhism was introduced into the Middle Kingdom she was too dear to the people to be abandoned or degraded in rank, and so she was interpreted to be a female incarnation of the Buddha himself. Some pictures or statuettes represent her as denoting motherly love by holding a baby in her arms, which

gives her an obvious resemblance to the Christian Mary, the mother of Christ.

The ancient Chinese were rich in divinities of all kinds and among them there is a goddess who

in one way or other might easily have developed into the Buddhist Kwan-Yon. This is the Queen of Heaven or Holy Mother, who is worshiped with great fervor in some localities. Emperor K’ang Hi bestowed upon her the high title of T’ien Hou, that is, “Heaven’s Ruler,” but we may very well assume that she did not originate in his days but existed since older times. She, or some figure like her, must have been known before the importation of Buddhism, and Kwan-Yon presupposes the primitive existence of a female deity of love, charity and universal goodwill.

*  *  *

The northern Venus, called Freya, the mother-goddess of the Teutons and in fact of all the Teutonic races, did not share the fate of the Venus of classical antiquity. She never deteriorated into the goddess of sensuality. It is strange that we descendants of the Germanic nations are better posted on the national gods of Greece and Rome than on those of our own ancestors. These are mainly remembered from the names of the week days and even there the god of war, Tiu, has become quite unintelligible in Tuesday. Freya’s day, Friday, is easily recognizable as the Latin dies Veneris or vendredi, and it is peculiar that on that very day Christian custom still retains the fish diet of the ancient Astarte. The motive of course is changed, and the fish is no longer thought of as the emblem of Astarte but is eaten in remembrance of the death of Christ on the cross. Fish has become the diet of fasting. Such is the logic of tradition, which persists after the reason for it has gradually been forgotten.

H. A. Guerber in his Myths of Northern Lands describes Freya as follows:

“Although goddess of love, Freya was not soft and pleasure-loving, for the ancient northern races said that she had very martial tastes, and that as Valfreya[31] she often led the Valkyrs down to the battle-fields, choosing and claiming one-half the heroes slain. She was therefore often represented with corselet and helmet, shield and spear, only the lower part of her body being clad in the usual flowing feminine garb.

“Freya transported the chosen slain to Folkvang, where they were duly entertained, and where she also welcomed all pure maidens and faithful wives, that they might enjoy the company of their lovers and husbands even after death. The joys of her abode were so enticing to the heroic northern women that they often rushed into battle when their loved ones were slain, hoping to meet with the same fate; or they fell upon their swords, or were voluntarily burned on the same funeral pyre as the beloved remains.

“As Freya was inclined to lend a favorable ear to lovers’ prayers, she was often invoked by them, and it was customary to indite love songs in her honor, which were sung on all festive occasions, her very name in Germany being used for the formation of the verb freien, i. e., ‘to woo.’”

When the conception of the mother goddess of antiquity began to decay, a new faith spread and under a new name the old ideal was revived as Mary, Mother of God, Maria Theotokos; the star of the sea, or Stella Maris; and the Italian fishermen sing to her the beautiful lines,

THE ORIGIN OF WOMAN.

The same subjects have been treated in a different spirit during the Christian era and again differently still under the influence of a scientific world-conception. Socrates respected the gods but he no longer believed in them as personalities. He explained them as signifying some facts of experience. To him love found expression in a belief in Aphrodite and in her powerful son, Eros. Further, his disciple Plato explains to us the significance of love and devotes a special dialogue to a discussion of its meaning in every aspect. This dialogue of Plato’s, the Symposium, may truly be characterized as the most poetical and most interesting discussion of Greek philosophy. It tells of a banquet to which Agathon has invited his friends, among whom we find the philosopher Socrates, the poet Aristophanes (the disciple of Socrates), Pausanias, Phaedrus and some others. After dinner Phaedrus proposes to make speeches in honor of love, and Pausanias begins by drawing a distinction between heavenly and earthly love, extolling the former and giving scant praise to the latter. Aristophanes is the next speaker, but, being prevented by a severe hiccup from taking up the discussion, gives precedence to Eryximachus, the physician. This speaker approves the distinction made by Pausanias, but generalizes the conception of love by regarding it as a universal principle, bringing about the harmony that regulates nature in the course of the seasons in its relations of moist and dry, hot and cold, etc., and whose absence is marked by diseases of all sorts. Aristophanes, having recovered from his hiccup, proposes to offer a new explanation setting forth a novel theory of the origin of human nature. We quote extracts from the translation of Jowett:

“Primeval man was round, his back and sides forming a circle; and he had four hands and four feet, one head with two faces, looking opposite ways, set on a round neck and precisely alike; also four ears, two privy members and the remainder to correspond. He could walk upright as men now do, backward and forward as he pleased, and he could also roll over and over at a great pace, turning on his four hands and four feet, eight in all, like tumblers going over and over with their legs in the air; this was when he wanted to run fast.... Terrible was their might and strength, and the thoughts of their hearts were great, and they made an attack upon the gods; of them is told the tale of Otys and Ephialtes who, as Homer says, dared to scale heaven, and would have laid hands upon the gods. Doubt reigned in the celestial councils. Should they kill them and annihilate the race with thunderbolts, as they had done the giants, then there would be an end of the sacrifices and worship which men offered to them; but, on the other hand, the gods could not suffer their insolence to be unrestrained. At last, after a good deal of reflection, Zeus discovered a way. He said: ‘Methinks I have a plan which will humble their pride and improve their manners; men shall continue to exist, but I will cut them in two and then they will be diminished in strength and increased in numbers; this will have the advantage of making them more profitable to us. They shall walk upright on two legs, and if they continue insolent and will not be quiet, I will split them again and they shall hop about on a single leg.’ He spoke and cut men in two, like a sorb-apple which is halved for pickling, or as you might divide an egg with a hair; and as he cut them one after another, he bade Apollo give the face and half of the neck a turn in order that the man might contemplate the section of himself: he would thus learn a lesson of humility. Apollo was also bidden to heal their wounds and compose their forms. So he gave a turn to the face and pulled the skin from the sides all over that which in our language is called the belly, like the purses which draw in, and he made one mouth at the center which he fastened in a knot (the same which is called the navel); he also moulded the breast and took out most of the wrinkles, much as a shoemaker might smooth leather upon a last; he left a few, however, in the region of the belly and navel, as a memorial of the primeval state. After the division the two parts of man, each desiring his other half, came together, and throwing their arms about one another, entwined in mutual embraces, longing to grow into one, they were on the point of dying from hunger and self-neglect, because they did not like to do anything apart; and when one of the halves died and the other survived, the survivor sought another mate, man or woman as we call them—being the sections of entire men or women—and clung to that.”

This ingenious theory of primitive man as a union of two human creatures is perhaps older than Plato and may not be original with him. At any rate the Biblical passage in Gen. i. 27 and Gen. ii 21-22 may also have been given the interpretation of man’s creation of Adam and Eve. The oldest texts read plainly: “And God created man in his image, in the image of God created he him, male and female created he them”; but it has been pointed out that the same primitive man is here spoken of, first in the singular as “him,” and then at the end of the verse in the plural, “them.” The idea that originally Adam comprised in himself the nature of Eve as well is suggested by the story that Eve was taken out of the side of Adam and was formed from one of his ribs.

Obviously the idea expressed here in this passage of Genesis is ultimately the same as that of the Greek poet Aristophanes, and from the standpoint of modern physiology neither man nor woman is an individual, but the combination of two, viz., the father and mother. Each one of them, man alone or woman alone, is but a one-sided half of human existence. Each, by itself alone, is doomed to die; both together are immortal.

The Genesis story of the creation of woman is portrayed in many of the artistic representations of the creation of Eve.

Suggestions made to explain the original story of the creation of man in the sense suggested by Aristophanes in Plato’s Symposium, may not be tenable but they are not altogether senseless.

We must consider that primitive legends have originated from curiosity with regard to some problem that has presented itself to man in the childhood of the race. In our present case we have to deal with the question why the ribs of man’s chest do not entirely enclose the body, but leave unprotected an opening in the middle, the so-called procardium, where they turn upward. The primitive answer to this problem was the story we have been discussing, and thence the notion seems implied that before Eve, the feminine portion of man, had been taken out of his side he must have been an androgynous being, and we will add that there is a scientific truth underlying this primitive idea.

Living substance is originally asexual, or rather bisexual,[32] and in its primitive state it is immortal. A moner does not experience what we call death; unless it is crushed or destroyed by poison, it lives on and grows. When it outgrows its proper size it divides into two parts. It does not die; nor does it beget a young moner; it divides. There are two new moners, but there is not a mother and a child; the two are coordinate. Both are mothers and both are children. Death is not the original lot of life. Death comes into the world by birth. Life in itself can be destroyed by physical violence or by chemical means, but if it is not thus destroyed it is unending; or, in other words, immortality is a fact.

The differentiation of life into two sexes places a limit upon the existence of the differentiated parts. Each individual grows to a definite size and is limited to a definite span of duration: “The days of our years are threescore years and ten; and if by reason of strength they be fourscore years, yet is their strength, labor and sorrow.”

The story of the garden of Eden was given a symbolical interpretation at an early date. We read in Origen’s refutation of Celsus (Book IV, Chapter XXXVIII):

“In the next place, as it is his object to slander our scriptures, he [Celsus] ridicules the following statement: ‘And God caused a deep sleep to fall upon Adam, and he slept; and he took one of his ribs, and closed up the flesh instead thereof; and the rib, which he had taken from the man, made he a woman,’ and so on; without quoting the words which would give the hearer the impression that they are spoken with a figurative meaning. He would not even have it appear that the words were used allegorically, although he says afterward, that ‘the more modest among Jews and Christians are ashamed of these things, and endeavor to give them somehow an allegorical signification.’”

It is not an accident that the fruit of the tree of life was conceived by Christians at an early date as an apple or pomegranate, the symbol of Aphrodite. We must assume that the apples of the Hesperides which Hercules was requested to obtain, and also the apples of Iduna bestowing immortality upon the Teutonic gods, possess ultimately the same significance as the apple of Eve.

*  *  *

We do not mean to gather here all the traditions about the origin of woman, but we will quote two accounts from a modern book of Hindu tales, called A Digit of the Moon and Other Love Stories from the Hindu, and translated from the original manuscripts by F. W. Bain. Here we are told of a king who falls in love with a princess when he sees her picture. He leaves his kingdom in the hands of his ministers and travels out in search of his love, accompanied by his faithful companion Rasakósha.[33] The passage containing the story of the origin of woman reads thus:

“One day, as they rested at noon beneath the thick shade of a Kadamba[34] tree, the King gazed for a long time at the portrait of his mistress. And suddenly he broke silence, and said, ‘Rasakósha, this is a woman. Now, a woman is the one thing about which I know nothing. Tell me, what is the nature of women?’ Then Rasakósha smiled, and said: ‘King, you should certainly keep this question to ask the Princess; for it is a hard question. A very terrible creature indeed is a woman, and one formed of strange elements. A propos, I will tell you a story: listen.

“‘In the beginning, when Twashtri[35] came to the creation of woman, he found that he had exhausted his materials in the making of man, and that no solid elements were left. In this dilemma, after profound meditation, he did as follows: He took the rotundity of the moon, and the curves of creepers, and the clinging of tendrils, and the trembling of grass, and the slenderness of the reed, and the bloom of flowers, and the lightness of leaves, and the tapering of the elephant’s trunk, and the glances of deer, and the clustering of rows of bees,[36] and the joyous gaiety of sunbeams, and the weeping of clouds, and the fickleness of the winds, and the timidity of the hare, and the vanity of the peacock, and the softness of the parrot’s bosom, and the hardness of adamant, and the sweetness of honey, and the cruelty of the tiger, and the warm glow of fire, and the coldness of snow, and the chattering of jays, and the cooing of the kókila,[37] and the hypocrisy of the crane, and the fidelity of the chakrawáka;[38] and compounding all these together, he made woman and gave her to man. But after one week man came to him and said: Lord, this creature that thou hast given me makes my life miserable. She chatters incessantly, and teases me beyond endurance, never leaving me alone: and she requires incessant attention, and takes all my time up, and cries about nothing, and is always idle; and so I have come to give her back again, as I cannot live with her. So Twashtri said: Very well: and he took her back. Then after another week, man came again to him, and said: Lord I find that my life is very lonely since I gave back that creature. I remember how she used to dance and sing to me, and look at me out of the corner of her eye, and play with me, and cling to me; and her laughter was music, and she was beautiful to look at, and soft to touch: so give her back to me again. So Twashtri said: Very well: and gave her back again. Then after only three days, man came to him again, and said: Lord, I know not how it is; but after all, I have come to the conclusion that she is more of a trouble than a pleasure to me: so please take her back again. But Twashtri said: Out on you! Be off! I will have no more of this. You must manage how you can. Then man said: But I cannot live with her. And Twashtri replied: Neither could you live without her. And he turned his back on man and went on with his work. Then man said: What is to be done? for I cannot live either with or without her.’

“And Rasakósha ceased, and looked at the King. But the King remained silent, gazing intently at the portrait of the Princess.”

Another story, of like character, is told in the same book, on pages 372-374, only with the difference that it points out a lesson for woman that she must cleave to her husband because she possesses no independent existence by herself. (The same, however, in the Indian story is not true of man.) This is the explanation the faithful wife Wanawallari gives to the Brahman who tempts her to leave her husband. She says:

“Once there was a time when there were neither men nor women, but the universe existed alone. And then one day, when the Creator was meditating with a view to further creation, he said to himself: ‘Something is wanting to complete the creation which I have created. It is blind, and unconscious of its own curious beauty and excellence.’ Thereupon he created a man. And instantly the creation became an object of wonder and beauty, being reflected like a picture in the mirror of the mind of the man. Then the man roamed alone in the world, wondering at the flowers and the trees and the animals, and at last he came to a pool. And he looked in and saw himself. Then full of astonishment, he exclaimed: ‘This is the most beautiful creature of all.’ And he hunted incessantly through the whole world to find it, not knowing that he was looking for himself. But when he found that in spite of all his endeavors he could never do more than see it on the surface of pools, he became sad and ceased to care about anything. Then the Creator, perceiving it, said to himself: ‘Ha! this is a difficulty which I never foresaw, arising naturally from the beauty of my work. But now, what is to be done? For here is this man, whom I made to be a mirror for my world, snared in the mirror of his own beauty. So I must somehow or other cure this evil. But I cannot make another man, for there would be two centers to the circle of the universe. Neither can I add anything to the circumference of nature, for it is perfect in itself. There is necessary, therefore, some third thing: not real, for then it would disturb the balance of the universe; nor unreal, for then it would be nothing: but poised on the border between reality and nonentity.’ So he collected the reflections on the surface of the pools, and made of them a woman. But she, as soon as she was made, began to cry. And she said: ‘Alas! alas! I am, and I am not.’ Then said the Creator: ‘Thou foolish intermediate creature, thou art a nonentity only when thou standest alone. But when thou art united to the man, thou art real in participation with his substance.’ And thus, O Brahman, apart from her husband a woman is a nonentity and a shadow without a substance: being nothing but the mirror of himself, reflected on the mirror of illusion.”

*  *  *

Early Christian art took little or no interest in the parents of mankind. So far as we can discover neither the catacombs of Rome nor Christian sarcophagi are adorned with representations of Adam and Eve. Wherever they may occur they are rare exceptions. There is no trace of them in the fondi d’oro (gold-bottomed glasses), nor in the mosaics. In painting they become more and more frequent in the beginning of the Middle Ages, and we reproduce here, as one of the oldest representations of the subject, a picture from the so-called Alcuin Bible preserved in the British Museum.

The name “Alcuin Bible” is not justified, for the work dates from some time after Alcuin; but after all it comes from his school, and the book was produced in Tours about the middle of the ninth century, still showing the influence of the brilliant scholar of Charlemagne’s court.

We will say here that the so-called Alcuin Bible is severely criticized by Anton Springer on account of “the ugliness of its figures,” but there is more to be seen in this picture than mere awkwardness of style. The psychology of the picture here reproduced is exceedingly good. The eyes of Adam and Eve, and of the Lord in rebuking them, show real appreciation of the mental processes of the individuals. God walks into the garden with his finger raised, like a teacher who rebukes children caught stealing apples. God’s finger is not straight, a fact which presupposes a close observation of life. His eyes express kindliness as well as admonition, while Adam and Eve stand conscience-stricken by the side of the tree. They do not dare to look into the face of God, and Adam, with his clumsy hand, points to Eve as the cause of the evil, while her face expresses admission, though in her turn she lays the blame on the snake which stands erect at her left.

It is true that the technique is abominable. The heads are ridiculously large, and the hands are out of proportion. The bodies do not express the beauty generally credited to both Adam and Eve as the most perfect handiwork of God. The paints in the picture are reported to be no better than the drawing. The flesh is of a gray color shaded with maroon streaks. In contrast to the sickly and poverty-stricken appearance of the human couple the good Lord is dressed in gold, like a wealthy nobleman of the age, and the scene is shown to be in Paradise by the trees too being overlaid with gold. Nevertheless the situation is very clearly a garden, copied from nature, and the very story, with all its details, could be reconstructed from this picture.

In time, with the advance of art, the figures of Adam and Eve come more and more to assume the artistic appearance of natural beauty. Adam and Eve represent mankind in its primitive state, devoid of spirituality but perfect in health and vigor. It is noteworthy that Christian art portrays in them paganism in its rudeness and ignorance, and so they acquire a certain relationship to Greek antiquity.

In the Renaissance we reach a perfection in the figures of Adam and Eve which attains the ideal of classical beauty. Every painter believed it his duty to represent the two fatal scenes, the fall of man and the expulsion from Paradise. Similar scenes also begin to appear in sculptured reliefs. A scene on one side of the large pillars in the front of the cathedral at Orvieto is devoted to the subject of Eve’s creation.

The creation of man and woman is the first scene portrayed on Ghiberti’s great bronze entrance-doors of the baptistery at Florence. These beautiful