Now, as to this festival of a resurrection of such a god, we have seen that, in vol. ii. 122, 253, 254, it occurred in July, to Mr. Frazer's content. But, when it had to occur in March in vol. iii., we were met by the difficulty of two, or rather three, feasts of this kind in the year. Perhaps we get rid of this obstacle in iii. 177-179. The resurrection is here that not of Tammuz, but of a hero of the same type, is fixed by Jensen at Zakmuk, and therefore by Mr. Frazer, though not by Jensen, at the Sacæa in spring.

Jensen's theory is that the death and resurrection 'of a mythical being, who combined in himself the features of a solar god and an ancient king of Erech, were celebrated at the Babylonian Zakmuk or festival of the new year, and that the transference of the drama from Erech, its original seat, to Babylon, led naturally to the substitution of Marduk, the great god of Babylon, for Gilgamesh or Eabani in the part of the hero.' Jensen, fortunately for his peace of mind, 'apparently does not identify the Zakmuk with the Sacæa.' Jensen constructs his scheme thus.

Gilgamesh was a hero of Erech, who repelled the amorous advances of the goddess Ishtar. Gilgamesh became extremely unwell. His friend Eabani also aroused the fury of Ishtar, and died. Gilgamesh procured his return from the world of the dead to the upper world.[8] The feast celebrating this resurrection was removed from Erech to Babylon. Instead of a mortal hero, Gilgamesh or Eabani, a being cold and chaste as Joseph Andrews, the Babylonians now cast Marduk, their supreme god, for the part. The feast was Zakmuk.[9]

Of course this is precisely as if we said that an old feast of Adonis was turned into a new feast of Zeus, whose coldness, as regards goddesses, was not proverbial, like the frigidity of Adonis, Gilgamesh, Eabani, Mr. Andrews, and other notable examples.

The theory seems to lack plausibility, but as Jensen 'apparently does not identify Zakmuk with the Sacæa' he escapes the curious theory of supposing that Marduk (late Gilgamesh, or Eabani) is whipped and hanged in the person of his human representative—an unheard-of way of honouring the personator of the supreme being. However, if we accept Jensen's theory, and also, like Mr. Frazer, identify Zakmuk with the Sacæa, then, remembering that Eabani rose from the dead (if he did), and that Marduk is now Eabani, and that the Sacæan victim is or may be Marduk, and is also the king, we get a reason for supposing that the victim, too, was feigned to rise from the dead—in the person of Mordecai (Marduk). But why was the representative of Marduk, who in Jensen's theory represented Eabani, whipped and hanged? The victim, on this theory, if we add it to Mr. Frazer's, seems to me to personate

1. The King of Babylon, 2. Marduk, 3. Eabani, 4. Or Gilgamesh, and thus to combine a god or hero of vegetation (which Eabani is bound to be) with a mortal king, and a supreme god—and, oh, why is he whipped and hanged? Taking the theory of iii. 177-179 it seems to run thus, in combination with all that has gone before: The king was burned alive annually. His royal substitute was next burned alive annually. His criminal substitute was burned alive annually, till this was commuted for whipping and hanging, with or without burning. The king (before the feast of Zakmuk was brought from Erech to Babylon) had incarnated some god or other (I presume of vegetation). After the Eabani feast at Erech became the Marduk feast at Babylon, the king, I think, but I may be wrong, represented Eabani plus Marduk. If he did, so, too, does the victim at the Sacæa. But Eabani, in a Babylonian poem, has a resurrection: though I cannot find it in Jastrow's account of the poem. The victim then, being a personation of Eabani, of Marduk, and of the king, has a resurrection—after he has been hanged under the name of Humman, a god of the Elamites. He owes that name, Mr. Frazer thinks, to a popular misconception, for he really is the king, plus Eabani, plus Marduk. Dying as king, and as Marduk, under the alias of Humman (Haman), he is feigned, according to the theory, to rise under the name of Marduk (Mordecai). The Mordecai of one year becomes the Haman of the next, is hanged, and so on.

This is an hypothesis of some complexity. An effort is needed to maintain the mental equilibrium as we contemplate this hypothesis. However, by thus amalgamating the ideas of Jensen and of Mr. Frazer, one gets in the mock royalty (from the king), the scourging and hanging (from the mitigation of burning alive), the divinity of vegetation (from Eabani, who lends that part of his attributes to Marduk), and the resurrection from Eabani, who, in the Babylonian poem, rose again: though I own that in Dr. Jastrow's account of the poem I am unable to discover this incident. The spirit of Eabani is conjured up, indeed, in the poem, but 'there is a tone of despair in the final speech of Eabani.'[10] This is hardly a resurrection. However, I am but poorly seen in Babylon and its poetry, and no doubt Eabani had his resurrection. From that or a similar resurrection Mr. Frazer deduces the probability that the Sacæan victim in his resurrection was represented by Mordecai.[11] He, like Haman, had a sacred bride, Esther. In the Book of Esther, to be sure, she is Mordecai's cousin and adopted daughter. Mr. Frazer knows better.

I. ESTHER LOVED BY MORDECAI

'A clear reminiscence' of the time when Esther was the goddess bride of Mordecai (her cousin) appears in modern Jewish plays in which Mordecai is the lover (I hope merely platonic) of Esther.[12] And a very natural modern touch it is. The pair were cousins, and Esther was extremely pretty. In exactly the same way two little girls of my acquaintance dramatised 'Bluebeard,' and made the brother (who rescues Mrs. Bluebeard in the tale) the lover of Mrs. Bluebeard. She had preferred to marry Bluebeard for his money, on which, in this most immoral drama, Mrs. Bluebeard and her lover, her husband's slayer, lived happily ever afterwards. This is modern! The original tale does not run thus.

Again, Mr. Frazer says that the Babbis maintain that Xerxes only wedded a shadow Esther, 'while the real Esther sat on the lap of Mordecai.' A most natural shift to save Esther's character in a case of mixed marriages. So Stesichorus and Euripides, long before, gave a shadow Helen into the arms of Paris. The real Helen, meanwhile, saved her character by leading a life of remarkable purity in Egypt. These late shifts and evasions have no real bearing on the question of the original relations between Esther and Mordecai.