In more than one respect this confession is interesting. First, it asserts the excellence and the unquestionable infallibility of the traditional faith in terms which a Catholic could hardly improve upon. Secondly, it brings before us in succinct form the leading points included in that faith—the Creator, at the head of all the created world; the seven Amschaspands or Amesha-Çpentas, heavenly powers of whom Ormazd himself was chief; the judgment to be expected after death, and the strict account then to be required; lastly, the general resurrection with its new body. Proceeding next to the manner in which this faith had been handed down from generation to generation, we have first the cardinal doctrine that God himself was the direct teacher of his prophet; after that, a statement that the prophet communicated it to others, from whom it descended to still later followers, one of whom is declared to have "ordered and purified it." Thus the consciousness of subsequent additions to the original law is betrayed. Thus amended, the priests, or Deçtûrs, are said to have transmitted it to the time of the speaker, the authority of the ecclesiastical order in the interpretation of the sacred records being thus carefully maintained.
How many generations had elapsed before the transmission of the law could thus become the subject of deliberate incorporation among recognized dogmas, it is impossible to say. Undoubtedly, however, we stand a long way off—not only in actual time, but in modes of thought and forms of worship—from the ancient Iranian prophet. The change from the faith of Peter to that of St. Augustine is not greater than that from the faith of Zarathustra's rude disciples to that of the subtle, self-conscious priests who composed these later formularies, or the laity who accepted them. Still, after all has been said, after it has been freely admitted that subsequent speculation, or imagination, or the influence of neighboring creeds, introduced a host of minor spirits or quasi-gods, of whom Zarathustra knew nothing, it must also be emphatically asserted that the God of Zarathustra never loses, among the multitude of his associates, either his supremacy or his unique and transcendent attributes. While in the Gâthâs Ahura-Mazda alone is worshiped; while in the later chapters of the Yaçna many other personages receive a more or less limited homage along with him; while in the Yashts these personages are singled out one after another for what appears unbounded adoration,—the original God invariably maintains his rank as the Creator; the one Supreme Lord of mankind, as of all his creatures; the instructor of Zarathustra; the Being compared to whom all others stand related as the thing made towards its Maker. Theism does not in the Avesta pass into polytheism. Strictly speaking, its spirit is monotheistic throughout, though we might often be betrayed into thinking the contrary by the extravagance of its language. Nor can I discover in its pages the doctrine which some have held to be contained in it, namely, that above Ahura-Mazda, somewhere in the dark background of the universe, was a God still greater than him, the ultimate Power to which even he must yield, Zrvâna-Akarana, or Infinite Time. The very name of this highly abstract being appears but rarely in the Avesta, and never, so far as I am able to discover, in the character thus assigned to him. Ahura-Mazda remains throughout the God of Gods; his is the highest and most sacred name known to his worshipers, and none can compare with him, the Infinite Creator, in greatness, in glory, or in power.
It is not to be expected that, in the early stage of social progress at which a great part at least of the Avesta was written, its moral doctrines should be altogether faultless. Nevertheless, it may well sustain a comparison in this respect with the codes which have been received as authoritative by other nations. Subject to the drawback, common to all theologically-influenced systems of ethics, of laying as much stress upon correct belief and the diligent performance of the customary rites as upon the really fundamental duties of men, the Zend-Avesta upholds a high standard of morality, and honestly seeks to inculcate upon believers the immense importance of leading an upright and virtuous life. Such a life alone is pleasing to God; such a life alone can insure a safe passage over the hazardous bridge by which the soul must pass to Paradise. Not only are the more obvious virtues—respect for life, careful observance of promises, industrious conduct—sedulously enjoined on the faithful Parsee, but some others, less obvious and too frequently overlooked, are urged upon them. The seducer is bound to provide both for the infant he has called into existence, and for its mother, at least for a certain period. Domestic animals are not forgotten, and humanity towards these dependent creatures is commanded in a series of precepts, the spirit of which would do honor to any age. And, in general, the blamelessness required in thoughts, words, and works imposed on the devout Mazdayaçna a comprehensive attention to the many ways in which he might lapse from virtue, and held before him an exalted conception of moral purity.
Yet, when all this has been said, it must still be admitted that the Zend-Avesta hides its light, such as it is, under a bushel. Such is the number of supra-mundane spirits to be lauded, such a mass of ceremonies to be attended to, so great the proportion of space devoted to guarding against legal impurities as compared with that consigned to preventing moral evil, that the impression left upon the minds of unbelieving readers is on the whole far from favorable. Morality has, in fact, got buried under theology. The trivialities, inanities, and repetitions that abound in the sacred text draw off the mind from the occasional excellences of thought and expression which it contains. Thus he who toils through the verbose Fargards of the Vendidad, the obscure chapters of the older and younger Yaçna, or the panegyrical rhapsodies of the Yashts, will find but little to reward his search. With the Gâthâs indeed it is otherwise. These are full of interest, and not quite devoid of a simple grandeur. But as a whole, the Avesta is a mine which, among vast heaps of rubbish, discloses but here and there a grain of gold.
Section VI.—The Koran.[86]
Alone among the Scriptures of the several great religions, the Koran is the work of a single author. It is, therefore, characterized by greater uniformity of style, subject, and doctrine than the sacred collections of other nations. Considerable as the difference is between its earlier and its later Suras, a consistent line of thought is visible throughout, and pious Moslems are free from the difficulty that has always beset Christian theologians of "harmonizing" contradictory passages both supposed to emanate from God. There are, indeed, earlier revelations inconsistent with later ones; but in this case, the former are held to have been abrogated by the latter. Mediocre in the order of its thought, diffuse in style, abundant in repetitions, there are few books more calculated to task the patience of a conscientious reader. But we must recollect, in judging it, that its author did not write it, and very possibly never contemplated its existence as a complete work. He published it from time to time as occasion required, much as a modern statesman would announce his views by means of speeches, pamphlets, or election addresses.
When a revelation arrived, Mahomet in the first instance dictated it to his secretary Zayd, who wrote it on palm-leaves or skins, or tablets of any kind that might be at hand. Of the remaining Moslems, some took copies, but many more committed the revelations to memory; the Arab memory being remarkably retentive. Under the reign of Abu Bekr, the prophet's successor, Omar, finding that some one who knew a piece of the Koran had been killed, suggested that the whole should be collected. The suggestion was adopted, and Abu Bekr intrusted the work of collection to the secretary Zayd. The Koran was then put together, not only from the leaves that had been left by Mahomet, and thrown without any regard to order into a chest, but also from the fragments, either written or preserved in the memory, that were contributed by individual believers. The copy thus made was not published, but was committed for safe custody to Hafsa, daughter of Omar, and one of the widows of the prophet. She kept it during the ten years of her father Omar's caliphate. But as there were no official and authorized copies of this genuine Koran, it came to pass that the various missionaries who were sent as teachers to the newly-conquered countries repeated it differently, and that various readings crept into the transcripts in use. Hence serious threatenings of division and scandal among the Moslems. The caliph Othman, foreseeing the danger, appointed a commission, with the secretary Zayd at its head, to copy the copy of Hafsa and return it to her, their duty being to determine on differences of reading, and to be careful to restore the Meccan idiom where it had been departed from in any of the versions. Several copies were made by the commissioners, of which one was kept at Medina, and the others sent to the great military stations. This was the official text, prepared about A. H. 25-30; and after its establishment, all private copies or fragments of the Koran were ordered by Othman to be destroyed.[87] The original Koran, which Mahomet did but reproduce, is supposed by those who accept it as divine to be preserved in heaven, in the very presence of its original author, on an enormous table.
In the Koran, as arranged by Zayd, there is apparently no fixed principle in the order of the Suras or chapters. In the main, the longest Suras come first, but even this rule is not adhered to consistently. Of chronological arrangement there is not a trace, and it has been left to the ingenuity of European scholars to endeavor to discover approximately the date of the several revelations. Of some, the occasions of their publication are known, but in the case of the great majority, nothing beyond a conjectural arrangement can be attained.
The principal themes with which the Koran is occupied are the unity of God; his attributes; the several prophets preceding Mahomet, whom he has sent to convert unbelievers; the joys of Paradise and the terrors of hell; and the legislative edicts promulgated for the government of the Arabs under the new religion. Of these several subjects, the first two occupy a predominant place in the earliest revelations. Legends of prophets, of whom Mahomet recognized a considerable number, form one of the standing dishes set before the faithful during all but the very beginning of his career. He was also fond of speaking of the contrast between the position of believers and skeptics in a future state; but he seems at first to have expected a temporal judgment on his Meccan opponents, and afterwards to have been contented with awaiting the divine vengeance in another world. Legislation, of course, belongs only to that portion of the Koran which was revealed after the Hegira.
A few specimens will be quite sufficient to give a notion both of the earlier and later style of this sacred volume. Here is a Sura revealed at Mecca during the first struggles of the prophet's mind, when it was completely possessed with the awfulness of the new truth:—