but conducts, on the other hand, upwards to the promise, that ‘the seed of the woman should bruise the serpent’s head.’... The mystic serpent entered into the mythology of every nation, consecrated almost every temple, symbolised almost every deity, was imagined in the heavens, stamped upon the earth, and ruled in the realms of everlasting sorrow.... This universal concurrence of traditions proves a common source of derivation, and the oldest record of the legend must be that upon which they are all founded. The most ancient record of the history of the serpent-tempter is the Book of Genesis! In the Book of Genesis, therefore, is the fact from which almost every superstition connected with the mythological serpent is derived.”[242] That “the oldest record of the legend must be that upon which they are all founded,” no one can gainsay, inasmuch as the parent is always senior to the offspring: but it is not quite such a _truism_ that “the most ancient record of the history of the serpent-tempter is the Book of Genesis.” Before a line of it was ever written, or its author even conceived, the allegory of the serpent was propagated all over the world. Temples, constructed thousands of years prior to the birth of Moses, bear the impress of its history. “The extent and permanence of the superstition,” says the erudite ex-secretary of the Asiatic Society, now Professor of Sanscrit in the University of Oxford, “we may learn from Abulfazl, who observes that in seven hundred places there are carved figures of snakes, which they worship. There is, likewise, reason to suppose that this worship was diffused throughout the _whole_ of India, as, besides, the numerous fables and traditions relating to the _Nagas_, or _snake-gods_, scattered through the Puranas, vestiges of it still remain in the actual observances of the Hindus.” To explore the origin, however, of this Ophite veneration, all the efforts of ingenuity have hitherto miscarried: and the combination of _solar_ symbols with it, in some places of its appearance, has, instead of facilitating, augmented the difficulty. “The portals of all the Egyptian temples,” observes the _Gentleman’s Magazine_, “are decorated with the same hierogram of the _circle_ and the _serpent_. We find it also upon the temple of Naki Rustan, in Persia; upon the triumphal arch at Pechin, in China; over the gates of the great temple of Chaundi Teeva, in Java; upon the walls of Athens; and in the temple of Minerva, at Tegea--for the Medusa’s head, so common in Grecian sanctuaries, is nothing more than the Ophite hierogram, filled up by a human face. Even Mexico, remote as it was from the ancient world, has preserved, with Ophiolatreia, its universal symbol.”[243] How would Mr. Deane account for this commixture? “The votaries of the sun,” says he, “having taken possession of an Ophite temple, adopted some of its rites, and thus in process of time arose the compound religion, whose god was named Apollo.”