The Feast of the Nativity of St. John is set down in the Papal
calendar for the 24th of June, or Midsummer-day. The very same
period was equally memorable in the Babylonian calendar as that
of one of its most celebrated festivals. It was at Midsummer, or
the summer solstice, that the month called in Chaldea, Syria, and
Phenicia by the name of "Tammuz" began; and on
the first day--that is, on or about the 24th of June--one of the
grand original festivals of Tammuz was celebrated. * For
different reasons, in different countries, other periods had been
devoted to commemorate the death and reviving of the Babylonian
god; but this, as may be inferred from the name of the month,
appears to have been the real time when his festival primitively
observed in the land where idolatry had its birth. And so strong
was the hold that this festival, with its peculiar rites, had
taken of the minds of men, and that even when other days were
devoted to the great events connected with the Babylonian
Messiah, as was the case in some parts of our own land, this
sacred season could not be allowed to pass without the due
observance of some, at least, of its peculiar rites. When the
Papacy sent its emissaries over Europe, towards the end of the
sixth century, to gather in the Pagans into its fold, this
festival was found in high favour in many countries. What was to
be done with it? Were they to wage war with it? No. This would
have been contrary to the famous advice of Pope Gregory I., that,
by all means they should meet the Pagans half-way, and so bring
them into the Roman Church. * The Gregorian policy was carefully
observed; and so Midsummer-day, that had been hallowed by
Paganism to the worship of Tammuz, was incorporated as a sacred
Christian festival in the Roman calendar.
But still a question was to be determined, What was to be the
name of this Pagan festival, when it was baptised, and admitted
into the ritual of Roman Christianity? To call it by its old name
of Bel or Tammuz, at the early period when it seems to have been
adopted, would have been too bold. To call it by the name of
Christ was difficult, inasmuch as there was nothing special in
His history at that period to commemorate. But the subtlety of
the agents of the Mystery of Iniquity was not to be baffled. If
the name of Christ could not be conveniently tacked to it, what
should hinder its being called by the name of His forerunner,
John the Baptist? John the Baptist was born six months before our
Lord. When, therefore, the Pagan festival of the winter solstice
had once been consecrated as the birthday of the Saviour, it
followed, as a matter of course, that if His forerunner was to
have a festival at all, his festival must be at this very season;
for between the 24th of June and the 25th of December--that is,
between the summer and the winter solstice--there are just six
months. New, for the purpose of the Papacy, nothing could be more
opportune than this. One of the many sacred names by which Tammuz
or Nimrod was called, when he reappeared in the Mysteries, after
being slain, was Oannes. * The name of John the Baptist, on the
other hand, in the sacred language adopted by the Roman Church,
was Joannes. To make the festival of the 24th of June, then, suit
Christians and Pagans alike, all that was needful was just to
call it the festival of Joannes; and thus the Christians would
suppose that they were honouring John the Baptist, while the
Pagans were still worshipping their old god Oannes, or Tammuz.
Thus, the very period at which the great summer festival of
Tammuz was celebrated in ancient Babylon, is at this very hour
observed in the Papal Church as the Feast of the Nativity of St.
John. And the fete of St. John begins exactly as the festal day
began in Chaldea. It is well known that, in the East, the day
began in the evening. So, though the 24th be set down as the
nativity, yet it is on St. John's EVE--that is, on the evening of
the 23rd--that the festivities and solemnities of that period
begin.
Now, if we examine the festivities themselves, we shall see
how purely Pagan they are, and how decisively hey prove their
real descent. The grand distinguishing solemnities of St. John's
Eve are the Midsummer fires. These are lighted in France, in
Switzerland, in Roman Catholic Ireland, and in some of the
Scottish isles of the West, were Popery still lingers. They are
kindled throughout all the grounds of the adherents of Rome, and
flaming brands are carried about their corn-fields. Thus does
Bell, in his Wayside Pictures, describe the St. John's fires of
Brittany, in France:--"Every fete is marked by distinct
features peculiar to itself. That of St. John is perhaps, on the
whole, the most striking. Throughout the day the poor children go
about begging contributions for lighting the fires of Monsieur
St. Jean, and towards evening one fire is gradually followed by
two, three, four; then a thousand gleam out from the hill-tops,
till the whole country glows under the conflagration. Sometimes
the priests light the first fire in the market place; and
sometimes it is lighted by an angel, who is made to descend by a
mechanical device from the top of the church, with a flambeau in
her hand, setting the pile in a blaze, and flying back again. The
young people dance with a bewildering activity about the fires;
for there is a superstition among them that, if they dance round
nine fires before midnight, they will be married in the ensuing
year. Seats are placed close to the flaming piles for the dead,
whose spirits are supposed to come there for the melancholy
pleasure of listening once more to their native songs, and
contemplating the lively measures of their youth. Fragments of
the torches on those occasions are preserved as spells against
thunder and nervous diseases; and the crown of flowers which
surmounted the principal fire is in such request as to product
tumultuous jealousy for its possession." * Thus is it
in France. Turn now to Ireland. "On that great festival
of the Irish peasantry, St. John's Eve," says Charlotte
Elizabeth, describing a particular festival which she had
witnessed, "it is the custom, at sunset on that evening,
to kindle immense fires throughout the country, built, like our
bonfires, to a great height, the pile being composed of turf,
bogwood, and such other combustible substances as they can
gather. The turf yields a steady, substantial body of fire, the
bogwood a most brilliant flame, and the effect of these great
beacons blazing on every hill, sending up volumes of smoke from
every point of the horizon, is very remarkable. Early in the
evening the peasants began to assemble, all habited in their best
array, glowing with health, every countenance full of that
sparkling animation and excess of enjoyment that characterise the
enthusiastic people of the land. I had never seen anything
resembling it; and was exceedingly delighted with their handsome,
intelligent, merry faces; the bold bearing of the men, and the
playful but really modest deportment of the maidens; the vivacity
of the aged people, and the wild glee of the children. The fire
being kindled, a splendid blaze shot up; and for a while they
stood contemplating it with faces strangely disfigured by the
peculiar light first emitted when the bogwood was throne on it.
After a short pause, the ground was cleared in front of an old
blind piper, the very beau ideal of energy, drollery, and
shrewdness, who, seated on a low chair, with a well-plenished jug
within his reach, screwed his pipes to the liveliest tunes, and
the endless jig began. But something was to follow that puzzled
me not a little. When the fire burned for some hours and got low,
an indispensable part of the ceremony commenced. Every one
present of the peasantry passed through it, and several children
were thrown across the sparkling embers; while a wooden frame of
some eight feet long, with a horse's head fixed to one end, and a
large white sheet thrown over it, concealing the wood and the man
on whose head it was carried, made its appearance. This was
greeted with loud shouts as the 'white horse;' and having been
safely carried, by the skill of its bearer, several times through
the fire with a bold leap, it pursued the people, who ran
screaming in every direction." I asked what the horse was
meant for, and was told it represented 'all cattle.'
"Here," adds the authoress, "was the old
Pagan worship of Baal, if not of Moloch too, carried on openly
and universally in the heart of a nominally Christian country,
and by millions professing the Christian name! I was confounded,
for I did not then know that Popery is only a crafty adaptation
of Pagan idolatries to its own scheme." *
Such is the festival of St. John's Eve, as celebrated at this
day in France and in Popish Ireland. Such is the way in which the
votaries of Rome pretend to commemorate the birth of him who came
to prepare the way of the Lord, by turning away His ancient
people from all their refuges of lies, and shutting them up to
the necessity of embracing that kingdom of God that consists not
in any mere external thing, but in "righteousness, and
peace, and joy in the Holy Ghost." We have seen that
the very sight of the rites with which that festival is
celebrated, led the authoress just quoted at once to the
conclusion that what she saw before her was truly a relic of the
Pagan worship of Baal. The history of the festival, and the way
in which it is observed, reflect mutual light upon each other.
Before Christianity entered the British Isles, the Pagan festival
of the 24th of June was celebrated among the Druids by blazing
fires in honour of their great divinity, who, as we have already
seen, was Baal. "These Midsummer fires and
sacrifices," says Toland, in his Account of the Druids,
"were [intended] to obtain a blessing on the fruits of
the earth, now becoming ready for gathering; as those of the
first of May, that they might prosperously grow; and those of the
last of October were a thanksgiving for finishing the
harvest." * Again speaking of the Druidical fires at
Midsummer, he thus proceeds: "To return to our
carn-fires, it was customary for the lord of the place, or his
son, or some other person of distinction, to take the entrails of
the sacrificed animals in his hands, and, walking barefoot over
the coals thrice after the flames had ceased, to carry them
straight to the Druid, who waited in a whole skin at the altar.
If the noble-man escaped harmless, it was reckoned a good omen,
welcomed with loud acclamations; but if he received any hurt, it
was deemed unlucky both to the community and himself."
"Thus, I have seen," adds Toland, "the
people running and leaping through the St. John's fires in
Ireland; and not only proud of passing unsinged, but, as if it
were some kind of lustration, thinking themselves in an especial
manner blest by the ceremony, of whose original, nevertheless,
they were wholly ignorant, in their imperfect imitation of
it." * We have seen reason already (p. 51) to conclude
that Phoroneus, "the first of mortals that
reigned"--i.e., Nimrod and the Roman goddess
Feronia--bore a relation to one another. In connection with the
fires of "St. John," that relation is still
further established by what has been handed down from antiquity
in regard to these two divinities; and, at the same time, the
origin of these fires is elucidated. Phoroneus is described in
such a way as shows that he was known as having been connected
with the origin of fire-worship. Thus does Pausanias refer to
him:--"Near this image [the image of Biton] they [the
Argives] enkindle a fire, for they do not admit that fire was
given by Prometheus, to men, but ascribe the invention of it to
Phoroneus." * There must have been something tragic
about the death of this fire-inventing Phoroneus, who "first
gathered mankind into communities;" * for, after
describing the position of his sepulchre, Pausanias adds:
"Indeed, even at present they perform funeral obsequies to
Phoroneus;" * language which shows that his death must
have been celebrated in some such way as that of Bacchus. Then
the character of the worship of Feronia, as coincident with
fire-worship, is evident from the rites practised by the priest
at the city lying at the foot of Mount Soracte, called by her
name. "The priests," says Bryant, referred
both to Pliny and Strabo as his authorities, "with their
feet naked, walked over a large quality of live coals and
cinders." * To this same practice we find Aruns in
Virgin referring, when addressing Apollo, the sun-god, who had
his shrine at Soracte, where Feronia was worshipped, and who
therefore must have been the same as Jupiter Anxur, her
contemplar divinity, who was regarded as a "youthful
Jupiter," even as Apollo was often called the
"young Apollo":-
"O patron of Soracte's high abodes,
Phoebus, the ruling power among the gods,
Whom first we serve; whole woods of unctuous pine
Are felled for thee, and to thy glory shine.
By thee protected, with our naked soles,
Through flames unsigned we march and tread the kindled coals" *
Thus the St.John's fires, over whose cinders old and young are
made to pass, are traced up to "the first of mortals
that reigned."
It is remarkable, that a festival attended with all the
essential rites of the fire-worship of Baal, is found among Pagan
nations, in regions most remote from one another, about the very
period of the month of Tammuz, when the Babylonian god was
anciently celebrated. Among the Turks, the fast of Ramazan,
which, says Hurd, begins on the 12th of June, is attended by an
illumination of burning lamps. * In China, where the Dragon-boat
festival is celebrated in such a way as vividly to recall to
those who have witnessed it, the weeping for Adonis, the
solemnity begins at Midsummer. * In Peru, during the reign of the
Incas, the feast of Raymi, the most magnificent feast of the
Peruvians, when the sacred fire every year used to be kindled
anew from the sun, by means of a concave mirror of polished
metal, took place at the very same period. Regularly as Midsummer
came round, there was first, in token of mourning, "for
three days, a general fast, and no fire was allowed to be lighted
in their dwellings," and then, on the fourth day, the
mourning was turned into joy, when the Inca, and his court,
followed by the whole population of Cuzco, assembled at early
dawn in the great square to greet the rising of the sun.
"Eagerly," says Prescott, "they watched
the coming of the deity, and no sooner did his first yellow rays
strike the turrets and loftiest buildings of the capital, than a
shout of gratulation broke forth from the assembled multitude,
accompanied by songs of triumph, and the wild melody of barbaric
instruments, that swelled louder and louder as his bright orb,
rising above the mountain range towards the east, shone in full
splendour on his votaries." * Could this alternate
mourning and rejoicing, at the very time when the Babylonians
mourned and rejoicing, at the very time when the Babylonians
mourned and rejoiced over Tammuz, be accidental? As Tammuz was
the Sun-divinity incarnate, it is easy to see how such mourning
and rejoicing should be connected with the worship of the sun. In
Egypt, the festival of the burning lamps, in which many have
already been constrained to see the counterpart of the festival
of St. John, was avowedly connected with the mourning and
rejoicing for Osiris. "At Sais," says
Herodotus, * "they show the sepulchre of him who I do
not think it right to mention on this occasion." This
is the invariable way in which the historian refers to Osiris,
into whose mysteries he had been initiated, when giving accounts
of any of the rites of his worship. "It is in the sacred
enclosure behind the temple of Minerva, and close to the wall of
this temple, whose whole length it occupies. * They also meet at
Sais, to offer sacrifice during a certain night, when every one
lights, in the open air, a number of lamps around his house. The
lamps consist of small cups filled with salt and oil, having a
wick floating in it which burns all night. This festival is
called the festival of burning lamps. The Egyptians who are
unable to attend also observe the sacrifice, and burn lamps at
home, so that not only at Sais, but throughout Egypt, the same
illumination takes place. They assign a sacred reason for the
festival celebrated on this night, and for the respect they have
for it." * Wilkinson, * in quoting this passage of
Herodotus, expressly identifies this festival with the
lamentation for Osiris, and assures us that "it was
considered of the greatest consequence to do honour to the deity
by the proper performance of this rite."
Among the Yezidis, or Devil-worshippers of Modern Chaldea, the
same festival is celebrated at this day, with rites probably
almost the same, so far as circumstances will allow, as thousands
of years ago, when in the same regions the worship of Tammuz was
in all its glory. Thus graphically does Mr. Layard describe a
festival of this kind at which he himself had been present:
"As the twilight faded, the Fakirs, or lower orders of
priests, dressed in brown garments of coarse cloth, closely
fitted to their bodies, and wearing black turbans on their heads,
issued from the tomb, each bearing alight in one hand, and a pot
of oil, with a bundle of cotton wick in the other. They filled
and trimmed lamps placed in niches in the walls of the courtyard
and scattered over the buildings on the sides of the valley, and
even on isolated rocks, and in the hollow trunks of trees.
Innumerable stars appeared to glitter on the black sides of the
mountain and in the dark recesses of the forest. As the priests
made their way through the crowd to perform their task, men and
women passed their right hands through the flame; and after
rubbing the right eyebrow with the part which had been purified
by the sacred element, they devoutly carried it to their lips.
Some who bore children in their arms anointed them in like
manner, whilst others held out their hands to be touched by those
who, less fortunate than themselves, could not reach the
flame....As night advanced, those who had assembled--they must
now have amounted to nearly five thousand persons--lighted
torches, which they carried with them as they wandered through
the forest. The effect was magical: the varied groups could be
faintly distinguished through the darkness--men hurrying to and
fro--women with their children seated on the house-tops--and
crowds gathering round the peddlers, who exposed their wares for
sale in the court-yard. Thousands of lights were reflected in the
fountains and streams, glimmered amongst the foliage of the
trees, and danced in the distance. As I was gazing on this
extraordinary scene, the hum of human voices was suddenly hushed,
and a strain, solemn and melancholy, arise from the valley. It
resembled some majestic chant which years before I had listened
to in the cathedral of a distant land. Music so pathetic and so
sweet I never before heard in the East. The voices of men and
women were blended in harmony with the soft notes of many flutes.
At measured intervals the song was broken by the loud clash of
cymbals and tambourines; and those who were within the precincts
of the tomb then joined in the melody....The tambourines, which
were struck simultaneously, only interrupted at intervals the
song of the priests. As the time quickened they broke in more
frequently. The chant gradually gave way to a lively melody,
which, increasing in measure, was finally lost in a confusion of
sounds. The tambourines were beaten with extraordinary
energy--the flutes poured forth a rapid flood of notes--the
voices were raised to the highest pitch--the men outside
joined in the cry - whilst the momen made the rocks resound with
the shrill tahlehl."
"The musicians, giving way to the excitement, threw
their instruments into the air, and strained their limbs into
very contortion, until they fell exhausted to the ground. I never
heard a more frightful yell than that which rose in the valley.
It was midnight. I gazed with wonder upon the extraordinary scene
around me. Thus were probably celebrated ages ago the mysterious
rites of the Corybantes, when they met in some consecrated
grove." * Layard does not state at what period of the
year this festival occurred; but his language leaves little doubt
that he regarded it as a festival of Bacchus; in other words, of
the Babylonian Messiah, whose tragic death, and subsequent
restoration to life and glory, formed the corner-stone of ancient
Paganism. The festival was avowedly held in honour at once of
Sheikh Shems, or the Sun, and of the Sheik Adi, or "Prince
of Eternity," around whose tomb nevertheless the
solemnity took place, just as the lamp festival in Egypt, in
honour of the sun-god Osiris, was celebrated in the precincts of
the tomb of the god at Sais.
Now, the reader cannot fail to have observed that in this
Yezidi festival, men, women, and children were
"PURIFIED" by coming in contact with "the
sacred element" of fire. In the rites of Zoroaster, the
great Chaldean god, fire occupied precisely the same place. It
was laid down as an essential principle in his system, that "he
who approached to fire would receive a light from divinity,"
* and that "through divine fire all the stains
produced by generation would be purged away." * Therefore
it was that "children were made to pass through the fire
to Moloch" (Jer. xxxii. 35), to purge them from
original sin, and through this purgation many a helpless babe
became a victim to the bloody divinity. Among the Pagan Romans,
this purifying by passing through the fire was equally observed; "for,"
says Ovid, enforcing the practice, "Fire purifies both
the shepherd and the sheep." * Among the Hindoos, from
time immemorial, fire has been worshipped for its purifying
efficacy. Thus a worshipper is represented by Colebrooke,
according to the sacred books, as addressing the fire:
"Salutation to thee [O fire!], who dost seize oblations, to
thee who dost shine, to thee who dost scintillate, may thy
auspicious flame burn our foes; mayest thou, the PURIFIER, be
auspicious unto us." * There are some who maintain a "perpetual
fire," and perform daily devotions to it, and in "concluding
the sacraments of the gods," thus every day present
their supplications to it: "Fire, thou dost expiate a
sin against the gods; may this oblation be efficacious. Thou dost
expiate a sin against man; thou dost expiate a sin against the
manes [departed spirits]; thou dost expiate a sin against my own
soul; thou dost expiate repeated sins; thou dost expiate every
sin which I have committed, whether wilfully or unintentionally;
may this oblation be efficacious." * Among the Druids,
also, fire was celebrated as the purifier. Thus, in a Druidic
song, we read, "They celebrated the praise of the holy
ones in the presence of the purifying fire, which was made to
ascend on high." * If, indeed, a blessing was expected
in Druidical times from lighting the carn-fires, and making
either young or old, either human beings or cattle, pass through
the fire, it was simply in consequence of the purgation from sin
that attached to human beings and all things connected with them,
that was believed to be derived from this passing through the
fire. It is evident that this very same belief about the "purifying"
efficacy of fire is held by the Roman Catholics of Ireland, when
they are so zealous to pass both themselves and their children
through the fires of St. John. * Toland testifies that it is as a
"lustration" that these fires are kindled; and
all who have carefully examined the subject must come to the same
conclusion.
Now, if Tammuz was, as we have seen, the same as Zoroaster,
the god of the ancient "fire-worshippers," and
if his festival in Babylon so exactly synchronised with the feast
of the Nativity of St. John, what wonder that that feast is still
celebrated by the blazing "Baal-fires," and
that it presents so faithful a copy of what was condemned by
Jehovah of old in His ancient people when they "made
their children pass through the fire to Moloch"? But
who that knows anything of the Gospel would call such a festival
as this a Christian festival? The popish priests, if they do not
openly teach, at least allow their deluded votaries to believe,
as firmly as ever ancient fire worshipper did, that material fire
can purge away the guilt and stain of sin. How that tends to
rivet upon the minds of their benighted vassals one of the most
monstrous but profitable fables of their system, will come to be
afterwards considered.
The name Oannes could be known only to the initiated as the
name of the Pagan Messiah; and at first, some measure of
circumspection was necessary in introducing Paganism into the
Church. But, as time went on, as the Gospel became obscured, and
the darkness became more intense, the same caution was by no
means so necessary. Accordingly, we find that, in the dark ages,
the Pagan Messiah has not been brought into the Church in a mere
clandestine manner. Openly and avowedly under his well-known
classic names of Bacchus and Dionysus, has he been canonised, and
set up for the worship of the "faithful." Yes,
Rome, that professes to be preeminently the Bride of Christ, the
only Church in which salvation is to be found, has had the
unblushing effrontery to give the grand
Pagan adversary of the Son of God, UNDER HIS OWN PROPER NAME,
a place in her calendar. The reader has only to turn to the Roman
calendar, and he will find that this is a literal fact; he will
find that October the 7th is set apart to be observed in honour
of "St.Bacchus the Martyr." Now, no doubt,
Bacchus was a "martyr"; he died a violent
death; he lost his life for religion; but the religion for which
he died was the religion of the fire-worshippers; for he was put
to death, as we have seen from Maimonides, for maintaining the
worship of the host of heaven. This patron of the heavenly host,
and of fire worship (for the two went always hand in hand
together), has Rome canonised; for that this "St.
Bacchus the Martyr" was the identical Bacchus of the
Pagans, the god of drunkenness and debauchery, is evident from
the time of his festival; for October the 7th follows soon after
the end of the vintage. At the end of the vintage in autumn, the
old Pagan Romans used to celebrate what was called the "Rustic
Festival" of Bacchus; * and about that very time does
the Papal festival of "St. Bacchus the Martyr" occur.
As the Chaldean god has been admitted into the Roman calendar
under the name of Bacchus, so also is he canonised under his
other name of Dionysus. * The Pagans were in the habit of
worshipping the same god under different names; and, accordingly,
not content with the festival to Bacchus, under the name by which
he was most commonly known at Rome, the Romans, no doubt to pleas
the Greeks, celebrated a rustic festival to him, two days
afterwards, under the name of Dionysus Eleuthereus, the name by
which he was worshipped in Greece. * That "rustic" festival
was briefly called by the name of Dionysia; or, expressing its
object more fully, the name became "Festum Dionysi
Eleutherei rusticum"--i.e., the "rustic
festival of Dionysus Eleuthereus." * Now, the Papacy in
its excess of zeal for saints and saint-worship, has actually
split Dionysus Eleuthereus into two, has made two several saints
out of the double name of one Pagan divinity; and more than that,
has made the innocent epithet "Rusticum,"
which, even among the heathen, had no pretensions to divinity at
all, a third; and so it comes to pass that, under date of October
the 9th, we read this entry in the calendar: "The
festival of St. Dionysius, * and of his companions, St. Eleuther
and St. Rustic." * Now this Dionysius, whom Popery has
so marvellously furnished with two comparison of the famed St.
Denys, the patron saint of Paris; and a comparison of the history
of the Popish saint and the Pagan god will cast no little light
on the subject. St. Denys, on being beheaded and cast into the
Seine, so runs the legend, after floating a space on its waters,
to the amazement of the spectators, took up his head in his hand,
and so marched away with it to the place of burial. In
commemoration of so stupendous a miracle, a hymn was duly chanted
for many a century in the Cathedral of St. Denys, at Paris,
containing the following verse:-
"Se cadaver mox erexit,
Truncus truncum caput vexit,
Quem ferentem hoc direxit
Angelorum legio." *
At last, even Papist began to be ashamed of such an absurdity
being celebrated in the name of religion; and in 1789,
"the office of St. Denys" was abolished. Behold,
however, the march of events. The world has for some time past
been progressing back again to the dark ages. The Romish
Breviary, which had been given up in France, has, within the last
six years, been reimposed by Papal authority on the Gallican
Church, with all its lying legends, and this among the rest of
them; the Cathedral of St. Denys is again being rebuild, and the
old worship bids fair to be restored in all its grossness. * Now,
how could it ever enter the minds of men to invent so monstrous a
fable? The origin of it is not far to seek. The Church of Rome
represented her canonised saints, who were said to have suffered
martyrdom by the sword, as headless images or statues with the
severed head borne in the hand. "I have seen," says
Eusebe Salverte, "in a church of Normandy, St. Clair;
St. Mithra, at Arles, in Switzerland, all the soldiers of the
Theban legion represented with their heads in their hands. St.
Valerius is thus figured at Limoges, on the gates of the
cathedral, and other monuments. The grand seal of the canton of
Zurich represents, in the same attitude, St. Felix, St. Regula,
and St. Exsuperantius. There certainly is the origin of the pious
fable which is told of these martyrs, such as St. Denys and many
others besides." * This was the immediate origin of the
story of the dead saint rising up and marching away with his head
in his hand. But it turns out that this very mode of
representation was borrowed from Paganism, and borrowed in such a
way as identifies the Papal St. Denys of Paris with the Pagan
Dionysus, not only of Rome but of Babylon. Dionysus or Bacchus,
in one of his transformations, was represented as Capricorn, the
"goat-horned fish;" and there is reason to believe
that it was in this very form that he had the name of Oannes. In
this form in India, under the name "Souro,"
that is evidently "the seed," he is said to
have done many marvellous things. * Now, in the Persian Sphere he
was not only represented mystically as Capricorn, but also in the
human shape; and then exactly as St. Denys is represented by the
Papacy. The words of the ancient writer who describes this figure
in the Persian Sphere are these: "Capricorn, the third
Decan. The half of the figure without a head, because its head is
in its hand." * Nimrod had his head cut off; and in
commemoration of that fact, which his worshipers so piteously
bewailed, his image in the Sphere was so represented. That
dissevered head, in some of the versions of his story, was fabled
to have done as marvellous things as any that were done by the
lifeless trunk of St. Denys. Bryant has proved, in this story of
Orpheus, that it is just a slightly-coloured variety of the story
of Osiris. * As Osiris was cut in pieces in Egypt, so Orpheus was
torn in pieces in Thrace. Now, when the mangled limbs of the
latter had been strewn about the field, his head, floating on the
Hebrus, have proof of the miraculous character of him that owned
it. "Then," says Virgil:-
"Then, when his head from his fair shoulders torn,
Washed by the waters, was on Hebrus borne,
Even then his trembling voice invoked his bride,
With his last voice, "Eurydice,' he cried;
'Eurydice, the rocks and river banks replied." *
There is diversity here, but amidst that diversity there is an
obvious unity. In both cases, the head dissevered from the
lifeless body occupies the foreground of the picture; in both
cases, the miracle is in connection with a river. Now, when the
festivals of "St. Bacchus the Martyr," and of "St.
Dionysius and Eleuther," so remarkably agree with the
time when the festivals of the Pagan god of wine were celebrated,
whether by the name of Bacchus, or Dionysus, or Eleuthereus, and
when the mode of representing the modern Dionysius and the
ancient Dionysus are evidently the very same, while the legends
of both so strikingly harmonise, who can doubt the real character
of those Romish festivals? They are not Christian. They are
Pagan; they are unequivocally Babylonian.
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