MYTH AS HISTORY
Myth and the Origin of Religion
Vine Deloria, Jr.
Mr. Deloria, the author
of Custer Died for Your Sins and God is Red, was formerly the
Executive Director of the National Congress of American Indians. He
attended Iowa State University and Lutheran School of Theology (Illinois),
and is a practicing lawyer.
If there were gigantic planetary catastrophes in former times, how should
they have been described in order to receive credulous consideration by men
several thousand years later? What format should the ancients have used so
that we could give their descriptions serious attention? Should they have
couched their descriptions in mathematical terms? Described the approaches
of comets and planets in the astronomical jargon familiar to us today?
Should they have raised monuments to the forces of change? Buried "time
capsules" for our information?
We tend to project present understandings of the world backward into the
ancient records and test their credibility, not by what they describe or
narrate, but by what we consider reasonable given our present knowledge of
the universe. Certain ruins used to be thought of as religious monuments;
today we call them computers.
"Myth" has become a word like "executive privilege"--meaning whatever the
thinker wants it to mean when he has decided how ancient accounts are to be
interpreted. In order to see this aspect of present-day thinking, we will
very briefly compare the use of myths by a number of scholars and then
distinguish Velikovsky's methods and approach from theirs.
Emile Durkheim. The sociologist, Emile Durkheim, in his famous study
of primitive religion, The Elementary Forms of the Religious Life,
discussed the early efforts by western European thinkers to interpret
the myths of primitive peoples in either animistic or naturalistic terms.
The universe was for primitives either a living creature which had a soul
and in which millions of souls lived; or else it was a relatively lifeless
entity, with stories arising in an effort to humanize its sterility.
Durkheim promulgated his own theory of myth, which he hoped would bridge the
extremes which he felt were represented by these two interpretations of
myth and religion. Approaching myth via religious stories, Durkheim wrote:
"Religious thought does not come in contact with reality, except to cover it
at once with a thick veil which conceals its real forms; this veil is the
tissue of fabulous beliefs which mythology brought forth. Thus the
believer, like the delirious man, lives in a world peopled with beings
and things which have only a verbal existence" (1). (Emphasis added.)
This definition of myth, or at least religious myth, excludes the
possibility of extracting from myth any historical reality. It finds myth
to possess verbal existence only, confining it to the realm of ancient
intellectualism or psychological phenomena which occur "in here" rather than
"out there" in the world of physical existence. Almost every theory of
interpretation of myth since Durkheim, stripped of its rhetoric, accepts
Franz Boas. Durkheim's reduction of myth to a verbal and
quasi-religious reality was echoed by Franz Boas, who focused on the
hidden meanings found in myths. Boas wrote in his essay, "Mythology and
Folklore" (in General Anthropology), that "Mythological
concepts are the fundamental views of the constitution of the world and
of its origin" (2).
The problem with this theory was that it did not get down to specifics
regarding particular myths and how they arose. Were all ancient sources
to be equally suspect? Or only those with anthropological overtones
that could be revisited in surviving aboriginal groups? Were the sacred
tales of the Greeks more respectable than those of the Polynesians? Was
the Old Testament a series of myths, or history?
In recent years this interpretation of myth has become dominant, and it
would appear that almost every ancient source available has fallen under
the general category of myth or the mythological. Granted that
theologians dance fancy steps to maintain the sacredness and "higher"
meaning of myth, the meaning that comes across to the man-in-the-street
is that myths are a type of fable designed to comfort, admonish, teach
and inspire, but certainly do not refer to historic events and incidents
no matter how serious the accounts may appear to be.
R. G. Collingwood. R. G. Collingwood, in his famous book, The
Idea of History, appears to dismiss ancient accounts whenever they
contain any mention of divinity or the activities of the gods
intermingling in human affairs:
"Myth, on the contrary, is not concerned with human actions at all.
The human element has been completely purged away and the characters of
the story are simply gods. And the divine actions that are recorded are
not dated events in the past; they are conceived as having occurred in
the past, indeed, but in a dateless past which is so remote that nobody
knows when it was. It is outside all our time-reckonings and called
'the beginning of things"' (3).
One would think that Collingwood could use this definition to
distinguish between ancient accounts reflecting some historical event
and those concerned primarily with making a statement about the origin
or constitution of the world.
Such is not the case. In the same book, when discussing Homer,
Collingwood remarks that
"The work of Homer is not research, it is legend; and to a great extent
it is theocratic legend. The gods appear in Homer as intervening in
human affairs in a way not very different from the way in which they
appear in the theocratic histories of the Near East" (4).
It seems incredible that a scholar would attempt to pass off the Homeric
legends as theocratic legend, especially after Heinrich Schliemann
demonstrated with pick and shovel that Troy was not a fiction possessing
verbal reality only. Troy was there whether Homeric verse fit into a
definition of history or not.
Mircea Eliade. Among the modern thinkers no man has commanded
more respect in the history of religions than Mircea Eliade; his ideas
have influenced a generation of students. Eliade finds that myth "is
the history of what took place in illo tempore the recital of
what the gods or the semidivine beings did at the beginning of time"
(5). His approach is basically that of Boas, but with Eliade's
scholarly knowledge the definition verges on a commandment from Sinai.
It is when we turn to his specific interpretation of myths that we are
"In New Guinea," he writes, "a great many myths tell of long sea voyages
thus providing 'exemplars for the modern voyagers' " (6). But Hawaiians
and many other Pacific peoples did undertake long sea voyages and were
as much at home on a boundless ocean as they were on any island. The
New Guinea myths, if anything, are a fairly accurate account of ancient
voyages which can be verified by other data with a high degree of
Carl Jung. Carl Jung also deals with myth, and his use of myths
is quite similar to Eliade's except that it emerges in practical,
psychoanalytic techniques of therapy. Jung frequently uses myths to
explain prolonged patterns of psychic behavior. Of his many
definitions of myth, the ones that best fit our discussion have to do
with the reality behind myth. Jung tells us that "myth is not fiction:
it consists of facts that are continually repeated and can be observed
over and over again. It is something that happens to man, and men have
mythical fates just as much as Greek heroes do" (7).
Myths seem to be pre-established patterns of emotional behavior when
Jung uses them; a predestined sequence of actions and reactions that
work out an individual's fate. Jung evidently does not question how
myths originate, however, and he remains content to describe the state
of his patients according to how far they have progressed through the
sequence in which the myth unfolds. A comparison of Jung's use of Greek
myths and Velikovsky's analysis of the Oedipus myth in Oedipus and
Akhnaton will indicate how far apart the two men are. Velikovsky
seeks the origin of the mythic story line; Jung is content to see in
myths a classic analysis of the manner in which human beings work out
their interpersonal relationships. Jung never answers the question of
why Greek myths, of all the myths available, seem to work so well in
analyzing human personality.
Claude Levy-Strauss. The most ambitious mythologist in
anthropology today is Claude Levy-Strauss, who has developed a theory
of "bricolage." "The characteristic feature of mythical thought,"
Levy-Strauss writes in The Savage Mind, "as of 'bricolage'
on the practical plane, is that it builds up structured sets but by
using the remains and debris of events" (8). Exactly what these
"remains" consist of is undetermined. Levy-Strauss makes a vigorous
defense of mythical thinking as having a rigor comparable to modern
science, but his defense is nearly as much a defense of anthropology as
of the validity and reliability of ancient accounts of incidents and
"Mythical thought," he explains in The Savage Mind, "for its part
is imprisoned in the events and experiences which it never tires of
ordering and re-ordering in its search to find them a meaning. But it
also acts as a liberator by its protest against the idea that anything
can be meaningless with which science at first resigned itself to a
We would have to conclude that myths as we find them have a story line,
characters, and a set of descriptive phrases which have been worked and
reworked in order to present the best possible tale. But we note that
such well-polished stories are the exception, not the rule. Even the
creation story of Genesis has the sequence out of phase, with the first
day and night occurring before the creation of the Sun, Moon and stars,
an error that should have been eliminated by the ordering and
re-ordering process long before Clarence Darrow pointed it out.
Joseph Campbell. One of the chief mythologists of today, Joseph
Campbell, takes a rigidly sociological interpretation of myth that
probably well suits many modern scholars in both religion and
". . all primitive mythologies serve to validate the customs, systems of
sentiments, and political aims of their respective local groups"
Campbell includes the Old Testament under the category of primitive
mythology, claiming that "on the surface the books of the Old Testament
may appear to have been composed as conscientious history. In depth
they reveal themselves to have been conceived as myths: poetic readings
of the mystery of life from a certain point of view" (11). Campbell
seems to have failed to take into account the historical basis of the
Old Testament writings, preferring to avoid the issues of historical
experience by viewing the accounts as poetic commentaries on life. A
close reading of Kings, Judges and other books would indicate less
poetry and more history.
Alan S. Watts. Alan S. Watts, in his book Myth and Ritual in
Christianity, advances a definition of myth which all of the
previous thinkers should find comforting. It is under his umbrella that
we will conclude our survey.
"Myth," Watts writes, "is to be defined as a complex of stories--some no
doubt fact, and some fantasy--which, for various reasons, human beings
regard as demonstrations of the inner meaning of the universe and of
human life. Myth is quite different from philosophy in the sense of
abstract concepts, for the form of the myth is always
concrete--consisting of vivid, sensually intelligible narratives,
images, rites, ceremonies and symbols. A great deal of myth may
therefore be based on historical events, but not all such events acquire
the mythic character" (12).
Myth and History
The point that seems to escape all of these men is that the ancient
sources and accounts which we have in hand today may simply be the way
people wrote about the events that affected their lives. Even with
Watts' encompassing definition of myth, we find the old Boas "hidden
meaning" or quasi-philosophy about the nature of the universe. It seems
strange indeed that the ancient peoples would spend so much time writing
about the inner mysteries of life and find little time to record the
events and incidents of their times. Using the definitions of the
various thinkers discussed above, we cannot and will never be able to
make any significant statements about the history of the planet, because
these thinkers have already ruled out the unusual, preferring to view
such accounts as elaborations on religious and philosophical themes.
We are left to wonder whether these men have actually read the myths of
the various societies of the past. In many of the myths there is little
effort at national glorification; the sins and shortcomings of the
heroes are presented in a rather straightforward manner. And the
failure of these accounts to exhibit the sequence we would expect of
stories possessing only a verbal reality leads us to doubt the notion
that they have been carefully polished over many lifetimes. Further, we
are confronted with historical facts: many tales of the past, dealing
with Troy, Ur of the Chaldees, and other places, are now known to be
founded on reality rather than fantasy.
Scholars working with myths seem to rely on two basic assumptions about
ancient source materials. The first is that myths are fundamentally
religious in content and origin; the second is that they possess
primarily a verbal reality, consisting at best of the "debris and
remains" of real historical incidents.
With these two assumptions scholars have a great deal of latitude in
interpreting ancient source materials. When any historical basis is
found for a myth, they can proclaim, "Homer was right." But when the
story line verges on the incredible, measured by our present
sensitivities, the scholar can fall back on his definition of the
"mysterious" nature of human existence and the need felt by ancient
peoples to comment poetically on life.
It is precisely at this point in the interpretation of myth that
Immanuel Velikovsky has challenged modern thinking. He has taken the
story of the Exodus and asked whether or not such a traumatic event as
described in the Old Testament could be a rendering of actual history.
From this basic question he then proceeds relentlessly to amass evidence
from every possible science, interest area, and source available.
Weaving and winnowing his way through an incredible mass of materials,
he uses one science to critique another, one document to serve as a
guide for interpreting other documents.
The result of Velikovsky's method of pursuing, attacking and
interpreting the reality of mythological accounts is that one
comprehensive explanation of events begins to emerge in which the many
individual strands of knowledge are brought together to describe not
only a series of events, but the means by which such events could have
taken place and the magnitude of the experience felt by ancient peoples.
Starting with, among other things, a book that is considered basically
religious (Exodus), Velikovsky finds in complementary
sources--the Papyrus Ipuwer and the Naos of El Arish--support for the
idea that something spectacular occurred. Using the Exodus account and
cross-checking with these two basic sources, he then proceeds to search
for other indications of the reality of the events by posing questions
to the; various sciences and receiving answers in return as to both the
probability and possibility of events happening in the manner in which
they are described.
As this process continues, Velikovsky points out the errors in
interpretation, not only of myth, but of the data compiled by other
sciences. The result of Velikovsky's thinking is that a new conception
of the nature of the universe comes into being. Instead of sciences
going their separate ways, interpreting data in isolation, the sciences
become partners in seeking out the meaning of the universe. A
relationship is established between the recorded experiences of the
ancient Hebrews and the Venus probe of the twentieth century, in that
they both illuminate the same realities.
Other mythologists have dealt with the Exodus story, and we will choose
three to compare with Velikovsky: Martin Buber, Theodore Gaster, and
Johannes Pederson. Each of these men was intimately acquainted with
the Hebrew scriptures, the culture of the Hebrews and other Near
Eastern peoples, and the history of that region of our planet.
Martin Buber, writing in his book, Moses, defines away the Exodus
as a historical event early in his interpretation of the scriptures:
"The Biblical narrative itself is basically different in character from
all that we usually classify as serviceable historical sources. The
happenings recorded there can never have come about, in the
historical world as we know it, after the fashion in which they are
described. The literary category within which our historical mode
of thinking must classify this narrative is the saga; and a saga is
generally assumed to be incapable of producing within us any conception
of a factual sequence" (13). (Emphasis added.)
It has remained a mystery to me how Buber can write that on p. 13 of
Moses and then devote the next 200 pages to an exegesis which
follows the story line of the Exodus remarkably well for a disbeliever.
In describing the passage over the sea of reeds, Buber remarks that a
miracle "is not something 'supernatural' or 'super-historical,' but an
incident, an event which can be fully included in the objective,
scientific nexus of nature and history" (14). Thus it is that Buber's
Moses, obediently following the dictates of YHVH, "comes to the shore,
he steps on sands that are barely covered by shallow water; and the
hosts follow him as he follows the God. At this point occurs whatever
occurs, and it is apprehended as a miracle" (15). Such an event would
hardly seem capable of producing a religion; people wade in shallow
waters quite often without any significant change.
Theodore Gaster, discussing the Exodus story in Passover, fails
to venture even as far as Buber:
"It is obvious to any unbiased reader that this story, with its markedly
religious coloration and its emphasis on supernatural 'signs and
wonders,' is more of a romantic saga or popular legend than an accurate
record. Written down centuries later than the period which it
describes, it is clearly more indebted to folklore than to sober fact"
A question which seems never to have occurred to Gaster is the extent to
which the Exodus story is really romantic. When one reads the book of
Exodus the Hebrews hardly come off as a romantic group. They
continually backslide, complain bitterly about their lot in the desert,
spend most of their time yearning for the good old days in Egypt, and
emerge from the pages of Exodus as a group hardly worth saving.
It seems incredible that this story as recorded in Exodus could
come from generations of story-tellers embellishing, polishing and
glorifying an old migration myth into a romantic epic.
Johannes Pederson, a Scandinavian scholar of no little reputation, wrote
a classic study entitled Israel: Its Life and Culture,
which is one of the monumental works on the Hebrews. Pederson comments
on the Exodus story in an appendix:
"In forming an opinion of the story about the crossing of the Red Sea,
it must be kept in mind, as we have remarked above, that this story, as
well as the whole emigration legend, is quite obviously of a cultic
character, for the whole narrative aims at glorifying the god of the
people at the paschal feast through an exposition of the historical
event that created the people. The object cannot have been to
give a correct exposition of ordinary events, but on the
contrary, to describe history on a higher plane, mythical
exploits which make of the people a great people, nature subordinating
itself to this purpose" (17). (Emphasis added.)
I remain at a loss to discover what is "history on a higher plane."
And, although I admire Pederson's work, I am repelled at the idea that
the ancient Hebrews were the prototype of the modern advertising agency,
recording history solely for purposes of national self-glorification.
Indeed, in reading the Exodus account, we find that the
Israelites are always getting in trouble with the Lord.
While Pederson projects a "historical event" as the basis for the
paschal feast, he apparently rejects any efforts to discover what that
event was, calling into question even the emigration legend which would
mean, in realistic terms, that he quite possibly did not believe that
the Hebrews were even in Egypt!
The common theme running through the thinking of Buber, Gaster, and
Pederson is that it is forbidden to assign the Exodus account
any historical basis other than a vague reference to some primeval event
which cannot be recovered. They see in the story, the characters, and
the descriptions only a primitive effort at public relations on a
When we examine Immanuel Velikovsky's interpretation of the Exodus we
find a very careful articulation of the sequence of events, a fine eye
for details, an understanding of what the details mean, and a
willingness to seek a rigorous confirmation of the theory at different
points in the development of the interpretation. An example of
Velikovsky's rigor can be drawn from Ages in Chaos. He has
already demonstrated the parallels between the Hebrew and Egyptian
source materials and is recapitulating:
"The story of the darkness in Egypt as told in Hebrew and Egyptian
sources is very similar. The death of the pharaoh in the whirling
waters is also similar in both Hebrew and Egyptian sources, and the
value of this similarity is enhanced by the fact that in both versions
the pharaoh perished in a whirlpool during or after the days of the
great darkness and violent hurricane."
Following this summary Velikovsky then pushes his conception of the
interpretation of myth to its logical conclusion:
"And yet even a striking similarity is not identity. The subject of the
two records should be regarded as identical only if some detail can be
found in both versions, the Hebrew and the Egyptian, that cannot be
attributed to chance" (18).
Velikovsky then proceeds to demonstrate that the place named Pi-Kharoti
in the Egyptian source and Pi-ha-hiroth of the Hebrew source are
identical. In every case possible Velikovsky sifts the ancient sources
to find specific verification of specific details. This method
contrasts sharply with the rather blithe manner in which other thinkers,
particularly those we have discussed above, dismiss details and work
with the generalities of the story line.
New Attitudes Toward Myth
From a comparison of Velikovsky's approach to myth with that of other
scholars, we can derive a few ground rules for interpreting ancient
sources, particularly those of an apparently historical nature which
have been classified as myths.
Perhaps the first consideration is to recognize that these sources have
withstood the critics of their own time and come down to us as
respected literature which has had a wide circulation and which has held
the imagination of generation after generation of peoples. That
recognition marks Velikovsky as more serious than his fellow scholars
in a crucial area--respect for one's sources of information.
The second change in approach is to recognize that we are on a small
planet; descriptions of unusual or extraordinary events in ancient
sources may quite possibly find verification in contemporary sources,
or in alternate sources from other nearby societies. Velikovsky
demonstrates the necessity for an awareness of this possibility in
Oedipus and Akhnaton. Taking the Oedipus myth, he follows its
details step by step, setting the actual conditions in Greece against
the historical realities of Egypt. For example, the Grecian Thebes had
few gates, hardly the magnificent city of the Oedipus story. Comparing
the family of Oedipus with that of Akhnaton, the political situation in
Egypt with the story line of the Greek drama, and examining the role of
the Sphinx--revered in Egypt and a stranger in Greece--Velikovsky
concludes that the Oedipus story was simply transferred from Egypt to
Greece by dramatists who saw the tragedy in the events of the royal
house of Egypt.
Recognition of the "planetary" nature of human experiences entails a
further acknowledgment that geography changes perceptions of real
events. If the sun can be visualized as standing still in the Canaan
region, extending the daylight hours, then it must also remain hidden
from view on the other side of the globe. Attempting to trace out
motifs without an acknowledgment of the role of geography in changing
the nature of physical phenomena results only in comparing symbolic
similarities among the perceptions of human beings, and buttresses the
contention that myths express a "higher" history having a verbal reality
Given these basic changes in attitudes in approaching myth, we come then
to see Velikovsky raising additional questions for the interpreters of
myth. Does the process of myth-building necessarily result in the
glorification or embellishment of the details of the story? Most
mythologists seem to feel that the passage of time alters the myth by
allowing time for the introduction of editorial comments by succeeding
generations. When one considers the nature of our experiences today,
he recognizes that the passage of time usually serves to moderate those
experiences, softening them and reducing the story line to the bare
essentials. Can we suppose that an entirely different process of
transmission operated in earlier times?
Velikovsky concentrates his efforts in interpreting the story line of
myths on the smallest details of fact. If something appears to have
survived generations of story-telling as a factual detail, then he gives
it serious consideration. In the Exodus story, for example, he makes
great use of the pillar of cloud by day and the pillar of fire by night
to show the extent of visibility of the cosmic events which
characterized the Exodus experience. Buber, using the same Biblical
"Quite irrespective of whether volcanic phenomena have or have not
exerted any influence here on either the nucleus or the development of
the tradition, it is to be felt that the primaeval phenomenon which has
found optical expression in the clearly native, unique picture is the
belief of the man Moses in the leadership of the God whose voice he
heard from the fire" (19).
In other words Buber finds the language poetic and symbolic of the
Hebrews' belief in Moses and Moses' belief in his former experience in
the revelation of the Burning Bush. The Exodus is reduced to an ancient
legend designed to produce an infinite number of sermon texts, rather
than a historical event which grasped and formed the Hebrew nation.
Memories of events are replaced by symbols in Buber's theory of myth;
they remain indications of real events in Velikovsky's theory.
The relative constancy of details in myths has a corollary in the
relative constancy of the story line. A myth, for Velikovsky, is not
simply a collection of symbols brought together for purposes of
edification, glorification and enlightenment, but contains within
itself a special sequence in which real events can possibly have
unfolded. In this attitude Velikovsky and Carl Jung find companionship,
but for different reasons. Jung needed the sequence of the myth in
order to work out the multitude of psychic relationships which the myth
illustrated. Velikovsky adheres to the sequence of events contained in
the myth story line because of his belief that the myth contains a
description of real events. Velikovsky finds no need to violate the
sequence of events and details, because to do so would destroy the whole
meaning of the story.
The difference between Velikovsky and Jung is very real, because where
Velikovsky welcomes and even relishes specific details within the
sequence of events, Jung tends to concentrate on the general format of
the story line to the neglect of the details. Place names,
descriptions of natural phenomena, and the possibility of independent
verification by use of multiple sources fascinate Velikovsky, whereas
they are relatively unimportant to Jung once he has chosen the version
of the story line that is acceptable to his needs.
Velikovsky's concentration on details of the story in the sequence in
which they occur points to an additional change of attitude. Specific
details must be compared and verified if at all possible. Myths must
be taken in their completeness as we find them, and the details of the
story must not be automatically considered to be elaborations, poetic
license, or later additions, unless independent proof that they are such
can be obtained. The details of the myth must be confronted in all
their inconsistencies or apparent inconsistencies if we are to learn
what reality stands behind the myth. This requirement alone could force
a new vision of the nature of ancient source materials.
Velikovsky's method creates the possibility of illuminating
inconsistencies in myths by adding new materials from other sources or
by viewing the descriptions of the stories in a new light. Thus the
story of Joshua and the Sun standing still appears to be a poetic flight
of fancy of the first magnitude until one understands that if the
story is correct, then a major displacement of cosmic dimensions must be
involved. Recognition of the nature of this displacement requires that
one view the planetary nature of human experience and look on the
opposite side of the globe for confirming accounts.
An excellent index for evaluating the relative merits of the various
approaches to myth would be the extent to which apparent inconsistencies
are resolved. This requirement is much preferable to the current
scholarly tendency to declare that inconsistencies are either later
additions or glosses in the original material. Most probably such an
attitude simply indicates what the scholar does not know; his
interpretation has at best a verbal or ideological reality of his own
We come, then, to the question of what myth really is. As we have seen
in our discussion, most thinkers dealing with myth seem to feel that
myth represents a religious reality or an attempt by people less
sophisticated than ourselves to explain the origin or constitution of
the world. This attitude seems to hold for thinkers from Boas to
Levy-Strauss, from Durkheim to Watts. By combining the knowledge of
various sciences and by giving the ancient accounts the utmost respect
as conveyors of a historical reality experienced or perceived by people
of ancient times, Velikovsky has thrust the question of the origin of
religion forward for other thinkers to confront. He has taken the
Exodus from its contemporary status as a glorification myth to the much
more exalted status of a fairly accurate recording of an important
The conclusion that must be drawn is that religions most probably do not
originate from the speculations of generations of poets, no matter how
profound. In ancient times a great many of them most probably
originated from the experiences of a group of people surviving a
spectacular planetary event.
It seems doubtful that the other theories of the origin of religion,
which see religious beliefs and practices beginning as a result of
poetic story-telling, can withstand the rigorous methodology of
investigation and interpretation Velikovsky utilizes in developing his
thought. The burden of proof should be shifted from Velikovsky, who
uses ancient sources for data, to those who so blithely dismiss the
details of myths and present their own interpretations--interpretations
which reflect a "verbal" reality unrelated to events on our planet.
(1) E. Durkheim, The Elementary Forms of the
Religious Life (Collier Books, 1961), pp. 99-100.
(2) F. Boas, "Mythology and Folklore" in General
Anthropology, ed. F. Boas (New York: D.C. Heath & Co., 1938), p. 619.
(3) R. G. Collingwood, The Idea of History (Oxford
University Press, 1956), p. 15.
(4) Collingwood, The Idea of History, p. 22.
(5) M. Eliade, The Sacred and the Profane (Harper
Torchbooks, 1957), p. 95.
(6) Eliade, The Sacred and the Profane, p. 98.
(7) C. G. Jung, Psychology and Religion: East and
West, essay entitled "Answer to Job" (Pantheon Press, 1958), p. 409.
(8) C. Levy-Strauss, The Savage Mind (University of
Chicago Press, 1962), pp. 21-22.
(9) Levy-Strauss, The Savage Mind, p. 22.
(10) J. Campbell, The Masks of God--Occidental Mythology
(Viking Press, 1964), p. 95.
(11) Campbell, The Masks of God, p. 9 5.
(12) A. S. Watts, Myth and Ritual in
Christianity (Beacon Press, 1968), p. 7.
(13) M. Buber, Moses (Harper Torchbooks, 1958), p. 13.
(14) Buber, Moses, p. 76.
(15) Buber, Moses, p. 77.
(16) T. Gaster, Passover (Henry Schuman, 1949), p. 29.
(17) J. Pederson, Israel: Its Life and Culture (Oxford
University Press, 1959), vol. 3-5, p. 728.
(18) I. Velikovsky, Ages in Chaos (New York: Doubleday,
1952), p. 43.
(19) Buber, Moses, P. 76.
PENSEE Journal IX