The prominent place which the doctrine of two principles occupies in the later theology of the Persians has procured for that people the reputation of being the first to apprehend it; and for Zoroaster the credit of assigning to it its due importance in the religious reformation which he accomplished. So much doubt, however, exists, respecting the age in which Zoroaster lived, the nature and extent of the change which he introduced, and even on the question whether he really taught the dualistic scheme at all, that he cannot justly deprive the Ionian philosophers of a claim to originality in their resort to it. If either before the Persian conquest of the Medes, or in the time of Darius Hystaspes, this doctrine had been entrusted to the Magi, as conservators of the national religion, it is difficult to account for the omission of so fundamental a tenet in the account which Herodotus gives of the Persian theology. The simple monotheism which the Father of History describes, as seeking the mountain top in sacrifice, and calling the whole circle of the heavens God,[[571]] can scarcely be the same with the elaborate system of dualism, attributed by Plutarch to Zoroaster and the Magi;[[572]] and the difference between the two accounts throws a doubt on the antiquity of the latter doctrine in the East. Yet, on the other hand, if we assign to it the most recent date of which the case admits, we must allow that it formed part of the popular belief in the fourth century before Christ; in which case, it must have existed, at least in its previous philosophical form, in the fifth. A doctrine, however, which had not yet assumed a mythological character, or drawn to itself any external ceremonial, might easily escape the notice of Herodotus. The Indian books, which contain the same tenet, are thought by Friedrich von Schlegel to have borrowed it from Persia;[[573]] and cannot therefore be adduced in separate proof of its high antiquity. On the whole, there appears to be no evidence of its propagation among any native Oriental people, before the brilliant period of art and philosophy in the Greek cities of Asia Minor.
Even if it should be chronologically incorrect to affirm, that Ionian speculation “anticipated” the oriental religions in their theological and philosophical ideas, there is no sufficient reason to deny its independence and originality. Though the Greek schools did not arise till an opening intercourse with Egypt and the interior of Asia afforded to their founders the opportunity of borrowing from foreign sources, it does not appear that they estimated this advantage highly enough to avail themselves of it. Only a truly indigenous philosophy could have left such distinct traces of a regular and progressive development, beginning with the poetical cosmogonies of a purely mythological æra, and growing, under the fostering care of successive teachers, into vast speculative systems, bearing a relation, continually more obscure and questionable, to the theology which gave them birth. Adverting to this natural process, Mr. Thirlwall says: “It can excite no surprise that in a period such as we are now reviewing, when thought and inquiry were stimulated in so many new directions, some active minds should have been attracted by the secrets of nature, and should have been led to grapple with some of the great questions which the contemplation of the visible universe suggests. There can therefore be no need of attempting to trace the impulse by which the Greeks were now carried toward such researches, to a foreign origin. But it is an opinion which has found many advocates, that they were indebted to their widening intercourse with other nations, particularly with Egypt, Phœnicia, and the interior of Asia, for several of the views and doctrines which were fundamental or prominent parts of their earlier philosophical systems. The result, however, of the maturest investigation, seems to show that there is no sufficient ground even for this conjecture.[[574]] On the other hand, it is clear that the first philosophers were not wholly independent of the earlier intellectual efforts of their own countrymen, and that, perhaps unconsciously, they derived the form, if not, in part at least, the substance of their speculations, from the old theogonies and cosmogonies.[[575]]
The successive evolutions of the Pantheistic principle, and its final renunciation by Anaxagoras, are thus succinctly described by Mr. Thirlwall: “Thales evolved his world out of a single simple substance, (water) to which he attributed the power of passing spontaneously through the various transformations necessary for the multiplicity of natural productions. But he does not seem to have attempted accurately to define the nature of these transformations. And so most of his successors, who set out from a similar hypothesis, contented themselves with some vague notions, or phrases, about the successive expansions or contractions of the original substance. But as the contemplation of animal life had led Anaximenes to adopt air as the basis of his system, a later philosopher, Diogenes of Apollonia, carried this analogy a step further, and regarded the universe as issuing from an intelligent principle, by which it was at once vivified and ordered—a rational, as well as sensitive soul—still without recognizing any distinction between matter and mind. Much earlier, however, Anaximander of Miletus, who flourished not long after Thales, and is generally considered as his immediate disciple, seems to have been struck by the difficulty of accounting for the changes which a simple substance must be supposed to undergo, in order to produce an infinite variety of beings. He found it easier, in conformity with some of the ancient cosmogonies, to conceive the primitive state of the universe as a vast chaos, for which he had no other name than the infinite,—containing all the elements out of which the world was to be constructed, by a process of separation and combination, which, however, he considered as the result of a motion, not impressed on it from without, but inherent in the mass. This hypothesis, which tended to give an entirely new direction to the speculations of the school, seems to have been treated with a neglect which it is difficult to explain, and which has raised a suspicion that some less celebrated names may have dropped out of the list of the Ionian philosophers. But a century after Anaximander, Anaxagoras of Clazomenæ revived his doctrine with some very fanciful additions, and one very important change. He combined the principle of Anaximander with that of his contemporary Diogenes, and acknowledged a supreme mind, distinct from the chaos to which it imparted motion, form, and order. The Pantheistic systems of the Ionian school were only independent of the popular creed, and did not exclude it. The language of Thales and Heraclitus, who declared that the universe was full of gods, left room for all the fictions of the received mythology, and might even add new fervour to the superstition of the vulgar. But the system of Anaxagoras seems to have been felt to be almost irreconcilable with the prevailing opinions, and hence, as we shall find, drew upon him hatred and persecution.”[[576]]
In confirmation of the opinions expressed towards the close of this Lecture, I cannot refrain from subjoining the following moral estimate of the doctrine of two principles: it is from F. von Schlegel’s Treatise, before alluded to, on the Language and Wisdom of the Indians. “Pantheism inevitably destroys the distinction between good and evil, however strenuously its advocates may contend in words against this reproach; the doctrine of emanation depresses the moral freedom of the will by the idea of an infinite degree of innate guilt, and the belief that every being is predestined to crime and misery; the system of two principles, and the warfare between good and evil, holds the middle place between these extremes: it becomes, itself, a powerful incentive to a similar contest, and a source of the purest morality.”[[577]]
B.
Hebrew Names for the Evil Spirit.
The mere fact, that no proper names for the Evil Spirit exist in the Hebrew language, except such as are of Apocryphal or Rabbinical creation, is in itself a sufficient proof of the late and unscriptural origin of the belief in his existence. A glance at an English concordance will make it evident, that the word “Devil,” in the singular number, does not occur in our authorized translation of the Hebrew Scriptures. It is found in the plural in Lev. xvii. 7, 2 Chron. xi. 15, Deut. xxxii. 17, Ps. cvi. 37; and in none of these instances can it for a moment be supposed that the original word, if used in the singular, would represent any idea corresponding to the popular notion of the Devil; indeed, when the Rabbinical writers needed a name for the expression of this idea, they had recourse to other terms than those which are found in the verses just cited. In the two latter passages, the Hebrew word is שׁדים, literally, mighty beings; it clearly denotes false gods, and probably designates them by the title applied to them by their votaries; for the name is evidently not contemptuous, and is indeed radically the same which was applied by the Israelites to Jehovah, and receives in our version the translation Almighty. In the two former passages, the word is שׂעירים, literally, goats, and evidently denotes the heathen deities, typified under the form of that animal; especially, we may suppose, the Egyptian Pan, worshipped in the Mendesian nome,[[578]] with rites the most abominable. In Isaiah xiii. 21, the common translation renders the same word satyrs.
Several names of evil spirits occur in the Talmudical writings: and among them are two which are appropriated to the Satanic chief, viz., סמאל, Samael; and אשמדי, Asmodæus. The latter is the term by which the evil spirit is designated in Tobit iii. 8: and it would be easy to show, by a multitude of passages, that the being to whom both these names were given corresponded to the “Devil” of modern theology, as far as correspondence can be affirmed to exist between any two creations of the imagination. Thus we are told, in words which also show the use of the word Satan as a generic rather than a proper name; “The wicked angel Samael is prince of all the Satans,” סמאל הרשע ראש כל השטנים הוא.[[579]] Again, Jehovah is represented as saying to him, under his title of Angel of Death (מלאך המות) “I have made thee Ruler of the world,” שעשיתי איתך קוזמוקרטור (κοσμοκράτορα).[[580]] The same supremacy is attributed to this being under his other name. Thus it is said, that when Solomon became too much elated by his prosperity, there was sent to him “Asmodæus, the Prince of evil spirits,” אשמדיי מלכא דשדים.[[581]] And with slight variation of phrase he is described as “the devil Asmodæus, the Prince of Spirits,” שידא אשמדון רבהון דרוחתא. [[582]] Buxtorf identifies Samael and Asmodæus, on the authority of R. Elias; he says, “Eundem esse Asmodæum, qui alio nomine Rabbinis dicitur Samael.”[[583]] And Bertholdt again identifies this being with the enemy of the Gospel described in 2 Cor. iv. 4, as ὁ θεὸς τοῦ αἰῶνος τούτου; and in John xiv. 30, as ὁ τοῦ κόσμου [τούτου] ἄρχων: after quoting these phrases, he says “Apud Targumistas et Rabbinos occurrit sub nomine סמאל Samael.”[[584]]
The idea then of which we are in search, is unquestionably of frequent occurrence among the Talmudists. In expressing it they have recourse to new names not found in the Canonical writings. Surely a strong presumption arises, that the Hebrew Scriptures did not furnish them with the means of designating the personage about whom they discoursed.
C.
The parallel Passages in the Epistles of Jude and 2 Peter.
For the sake of those readers of the English Scriptures who may not have noticed the remarkable similarity between the Epistle of Jude, and the second chapter of the second Epistle of Peter, I subjoin a comparison of the two. A reference to the Greek Testament will make it evident, that the parallelism is fairly exhibited in our common translation. My present purpose, at least, will be sufficiently answered by taking the citations thence.