CHAPTER VIII. THE RELIGION OF THE BABYLONIANS AND ASSYRIANS

It is always extremely difficult for a writer of any nationality to appreciate the peculiar genius of another nation, even as regards its political and social history. And when we turn to the question of religion, the difficulty becomes well nigh an impassable barrier. Obviously the effort must be made, but we can never feel too secure in the results; certainly not unless we know the particular bias of the individual interpreter. Perhaps we cannot better illustrate the difficulties in question than by making two short quotations, each of which includes an estimate of Babylonian influence in general, and of its religious influence in particular.

One of these estimates runs thus:

“In spite of the skill and knowledge of the Babylonians, and their wonderful progress in arts and sciences, they had a religion of the lowest and most degrading kind. True insight into natural phenomena was prevented, and progress beyond the surface of things stopped by a religion which had a multitude of gods, which were supposed to bring about in an irregular and capricious manner all the changes in nature and all the misfortunes which happened to the people; thus foresight and medicine were neglected, and unavailing prayers and useless sacrifices offered to propitiate the deities, who were imagined to hold the destiny of the human race in their hands.”

The other estimate is quite different:

“The history of Babylonia has an interest of a wider kind than that of Egypt; from its more intimate connection with the general history of the human race, and from the remarkable influence which its religion, its science, and its civilisation have had on all subsequent human progress. Its religious traditions, carried away by the Israelites who came out from Ur of the Chaldees (Genesis xi. 31), have through this wonderful people become the heritage of all mankind, while its science and civilisation, through the medium of the Greeks and Romans, have become the basis of modern research and advancement.”

Now the curious thing is that these contradictory estimates occur in the same book, and only separated from one another by a few pages. They were probably not written by the same man, for the edition we are quoting is one published after the author’s death, and “edited and brought up to date” by another writer. George Smith was the author, A. H. Sayce the editor, and both alike have the highest rank as Assyriologists, and any quotation from either must be considered as having a high degree of authority. Which, then, is right? Had the Babylonians a “religion of the lowest and most degrading kind,” or was it a religion which has had a “remarkable influence upon all subsequent human progress” through having been adopted by the Hebrews, and through them becoming “the heritage of all mankind”?

Or, again, are the two citations less contradictory than they seem, each being a correct statement of a particular point of view? Did the Babylonian religion, which the Hebrews are said to have borrowed, really have elements both of greatness and of degradation, and was it, therefore, capable of being interpreted in one way or the other, according to the particular element for the moment considered? Perhaps this is the fairer view. Possibly these two phases might be found to pertain to every religion whatsoever. In any event, we shall have occasion often to quote contradictory views in attempting to get at the truth about the religions of the various peoples who come before us. And of a certainty we shall sometimes be left in doubt as to the real character of the religion in question. So long as the sects of Christendom cannot agree among themselves as to the correct interpretation of the particular records which form their common basis, we can hardly hope to interpret with full justice the religious contemplations of people of another genius.

The following account of Assyrian religion by Joachim Menant is based upon a study of documents from the library of Asshurbanapal, and, as will be seen, is an exposition of certain details of the subject, rather than an attempt at a comprehensive analysis. Nevertheless, its explicit depiction of these details will perhaps give the reader a clearer idea of the Assyrian religion than could be gained from a more general treatment. As already pointed out, any interpretation of the mysteries of an oriental religion must necessarily, in the present state of our knowledge, leave much to be desired.[a]

It is rather difficult nowadays to distinguish the link which united science to astrology and astrology to religion. The Assyrio-Chaldean dogma is not formulated in a text by which we may grasp the whole, and thus we are obliged to seek traces of it in fragments of different sources and of different times, without being able to give them the unity they must have had in their complete form; in other words, we cannot reconstruct the Assyrian pantheon as a whole.

The most superficial examination suffices to show that we are in the presence of a very complicated polytheism, but there is no text to explain the hierarchy which must have reigned in the celestial world. At the summit of this hierarchy one can perceive a divinity, one, and at the same time divisible. Dogma proclaims this divinity in certain passages, but when we wish to learn its exact individuality, it eludes us, so that we may only seize the abstraction. We are led to believe in a celestial hierarchy of beings inhabiting a superior world and subordinated to an all-powerful God, who governs gods, world, and men. He is enthroned in spaces inaccessible to us in our condition, and appears only in legends; his power intervenes only when the order of the universe is threatened, as we shall see in the legend of Ishtar, when the goddess of the dwellings of the dead wishes to keep the daughter of Sin in the dark dwelling, where she is so boldly detained.

This all-powerful God does not seem to be accessible to human beings; secondary divinities revolve about him and seem, like him, to be pure spirits. In the practice of the religion one has a glimpse of an assembly of divinities, whose relations with humanity are more tangible. These gods assume more definite form, as a general thing the human one often joined with that of various animals, fish, oxen, or birds. The wings seem to have but a single symbolical signification, to denote beings of a superior order.

These gods have a rather definite hierarchy, twelve of them being known as “great gods.” The one who appears to be the chief varies according to locality and time. The chances of political conquest seem to influence him, and he is changed according to the fortunes of war that give the upper hand to such and such locality where his cult is followed.

At Nineveh, the god which seems to have been the highest in the celestial hierarchy, is Ilu; his character is no further defined and his symbol is often only the abstract representation of the divinity.

In the historical texts of the Assyrian kings we find an enumeration of the great gods who were invoked by the sovereigns of the earth; their number and order is not always constant, but such as they are we can mention: Ilu (Ana), who is often confounded at Nineveh with Asshur; then Bel (Baal); and lastly Anu. These three divinities appear as the reflection of the gods of the superior world, which we have already mentioned, but to which we have been unable to ascribe names. Then follow the gods more particularly associated with the visible world: Sin, the god of the moon; Shamash, god of the sun; Bin (Ramman or Adad), god of the higher regions of the atmosphere, arbitrator of the heavens and earth, the god who presides over tempests.

A series of divinities seems especially given over to the superintendence of the planets: Adar over Saturn, Marduk over Jupiter, Nergal over Mars, Ishtar over Venus, Nabu over Mercury.

Ishtar seems always to have a peculiar and special individuality, notwithstanding that each of the great gods has a spouse who is often invoked with him, and who seems to complete him. The rôle of the great spouses of the great gods is not well understood; with Ishtar we can see Beltis figure, whose name is transformed and often becomes like that of Ishtar, a collective appellation of all female divinities; those whose names seem to have a more permanent character are Zarpanit, the goddess who particularly represents the fertile principle of the universe, and Tasmit, the goddess of wisdom. All female divinities seem to have direct relations with humanity, but they often disappear in the higher and inaccessible world, and then only reveal themselves through secondary influences. Secondary gods, whose number is infinite, are born of these divine couples; a tablet from the Nineveh library gives us the list of twelve sons of Anu with their attributes; of these sons other divinities are born, but their descent we cannot follow. It is so with other great gods.

At Babylon the divinities are the same, but the hierarchy is different; Bel seems to have replaced Ilu (Ana), and Marduk takes the place of Asshur. It is easy to be seen that these theogonies come from a common source, which is every day becoming more accessible to us, but which we have not yet sufficiently explored to know its exact nature.

The artistic development at which the Chaldeans had arrived from the remotest antiquity, allows us easily to suppose that we ought to discover in the pictured monuments that which the texts have not yet revealed to us. Unfortunately we cannot fix upon the meaning of the figures on the engraved stones until we shall have complete enlightenment from the texts. The significance of a symbol cannot be guessed at; also it is the most we can do if from all these representations we are able to recognise the figures of four or five divinities--Ilu, Nabu, Marduk, Ishtar, and Zarpanit. There is, moreover, a special reason why we should be most cautious in our comparisons; we know that when the Assyrians took possession of a hostile town, they carried away the images of strange divinities, and restored them to their possessors, after inscribing on these images the names of Assyrian gods. Therefore we should not trust too much to an Assyrian inscription to fix on the identification of the image of a divinity, as deeds of this nature might have been repeated in every campaign. It is thus, doubtless, that we may explain the fact that, while in the whole of Mesopotamia the abstract idea of the divinity was mentioned by the name Ilu, it appears on the monuments of the Achæmenidæ as Ormuzd.

The Assyrio-Chaldean cult had a very solemn ritual; we already have a great number of hymns addressed to the principal divinities; and as every month and every day of the month was under the protection of a particular divinity, one may understand that the Assyrio-Chaldean ritual must have had a considerable development. There were hymns dedicated to Nabu, Sin, Shamash, Anuit, to Fire, and to the Elements. Here is a hymn which can give an idea of the lyric poetry of which the library of Nineveh included numerous fragments:

“Lord Illuminator of darkness who penetrates obscurity. The Good God, who uplifts those who are in abjection, who sustains the feeble. The great gods turn their eyes towards thy light. The spirits of the abyss eagerly contemplate thy face. The language of praise is addressed to thee as a single word. The … of their heads seeks the light of the Southern sun. Like a betrothed thou restest full of joy and graciousness. In thy splendour thou attainest the limits of Heaven. Thou art the Standard of this wide World. O God, the men who live afar off contemplate thee and rejoice.”

Religious ceremonies bore a relation to external worship; they all ended in invocation or sacrifice. The cylinder-engraved scenes give us an idea of these ceremonies; we usually see the priest in an attitude of adoration or prayer, sometimes alone, but often before an altar, on which reposes the object of adoration, or that which is going to be sacrificed. The most usual victim is a ram or a kid. The Assyrian kings never began an important expedition without having invoked the gods and held religious ceremonies; after a victory they offered a sacrifice on the borders of their newly conquered states. These sacrifices generally took place in the open air; nevertheless, temples were numerous in Assyria and Chaldea; their traditional form is that of a step-pyramid (ziggurat); every town had one or two temples of this kind under the patronage of one of the divinities of the Assyrian pantheon.

A tablet from the library gives us a list of these different sanctuaries, where the gifts of the faithful multiplied and accumulated until the time when war came to disperse them.

Cosmogony occupies a large place on the tablets of Asshurbanapal’s library. Amongst all these tablets, those which relate to the creation of the world, particularly to the history of the flood, have acquired notoriety. These ancient traditions form a whole which claims the closest attention. Whatever the philological explanations one may accept, there is one dominating matter which gives an incontestable importance to these remains, and this is their relation to the Mosaic statements. It is certain that the fall of Nineveh antedated the Babylonian captivity, and that the Bible in its present form postdates the return from captivity. It is not without interest, therefore, to compare the biblical accounts with a text, which could not have been altered from the day it was buried under the ruins of an Assyrian palace. This is not all; these ancient Assyrian legends are really the translation of a Sumerian text, which Asshurbanapal had copied and translated from the libraries of lower Chaldea, and we know positively that these texts antedate the reign of the ancient Sargon, and are therefore earlier by several centuries than the time when Abraham must have left Chaldea.

It is doubtless not the place here to give way to a discussion on pure philology; we will simply say this: when we make a mistake in translating a hymn addressed to the god Sin, and apply it to quite another divinity of the Assyrian pantheon, it is a deplorable mistake; but such an error, were it the most gross, would have no influence on our present prejudices. It is otherwise if we refer to a text which can influence our intimate beliefs, be it to fortify them, combat them, or explain their origin. In England and other protestant countries the discoveries of George Smith acquired a tremendous notoriety, and his translations are accepted with an eagerness and confidence which a severe criticism has not justified. In France these discoveries aroused less curiosity from the first, and Assyriologists who study legendary texts have done so with a dispassionateness which is all the more conducive to scientific and correct historic results.

Nevertheless, from these sources and authorities, translations have passed into elementary books, where it has been sought to use them in the support of preconceived ideas, often by altering their true meaning. We cannot set ourselves too strongly against such proceedings. It is surely not a new principle, that disinterested science must with perfect impartiality scrutinise all books, legends, and documents which claim the attention of the human mind.

The history of the creation comprises a collection of several tablets, of which the text was published in 1875, in the _Transactions of the Society of Biblical Archæology_. This text includes six fragments forming part of a series of tablets designated in Assyria under the title of “Enuva” (_i.e._, Formerly).[b]

THE ASSYRIAN STORY OF THE CREATION

Since George Smith first published the tablets various other fragments have been discovered, the most important new discovery, perhaps, being made by Mr. L. W. King[j] of a tablet containing a reference to the creation of man. He found that the tablets belonging to the series are seven in number, and has published all the hitherto known material in his _Seven Tablets of Creation_. The following extracts are taken from his translation:

When in the height heaven was not named, And the earth beneath did not yet bear a name, And the primeval Apsu who begat them, And chaos, Tiamat, the mother of them both,-- Their waters were mingled together, And no field was found, no marsh was to be seen; When of the gods none had been called into being, And none bore a name, and no destinies [were ordained] Then were created the gods in the midst of [heaven] Lakhmu and Lakhamu were called into being [............] Ages increased [........] Then Anshar and Kishar were created, and over them [.......] Long were the days, then there came forth [........] Anu, their son, Anshar and Anu [.........] And the god Anu [.........]

Here follow three tablets telling of the revolt of Tiamat and her defeat, which will be spoken of later on.

The fifth tablet begins:

He (Marduk) made the stations for the great gods; The stars, their images, as the stars of the zodiac he fixed. He ordained the year and into sections he divided it; For the twelve months he fixed three stars. ........ The Moon-god he caused to shine forth, the night he intrusted to him. He appointed him, a being of the night, to determine the days.

The rest of the tablet is rather badly mutilated. The sixth begins:

When Marduk heard the words of the gods, His heart prompted him and he devised [a cunning plan]. He opened his mouth and unto Ea [he spake], That which he had conceived in his heart he imparted [unto him], “My blood will I take and bone will I [fashion], I will make man, that man may........[.......] I will create man who shall inhabit [the earth] That the service of the gods may be established and that [their] shrines [may be built]. But I will alter the ways of the gods, and I will change [their paths]; Together shall they be oppressed, and unto evil shall [they......]” And Ea answered him and spake the word:

The rest of the tablet is too fragmentary for translation. The seventh contains the fifty titles of Marduk.

Besides these seven tablets there are some which contain other accounts of the creation. One of these refers to the creation of cattle and the beasts of the field.[a]

When the gods in their assembly had made [the world] And had created the heavens and had formed [the earth] And had brought living creatures into being [......] And [had fashioned] the cattle of the field, and the beasts of the field, and the creatures [of the city],-- After [they had........] unto the living creatures [.......][c]

The rest is too mutilated for comprehension of anything besides single words.

THE BABYLONIAN RELIGION

The fact that these tablets as well as so many others of Babylonian origin were found in an Assyrian library, shows that the Assyrians took their religion like the rest of their culture from the Babylonians. Indeed the Assyrian myths, religious doctrines, and observances are so similar to those of the mother-country that in speaking of Babylonian religion the Assyrian is usually to be understood as well. The Babylonian religion in turn was largely influenced by the Summerian which was an astral religion. The names of the gods are found written with the same ideograms although they were doubtless pronounced differently. Many of the texts are found written in Summerian with interlinear Assyrian translations.

Babylonian religion as we first see it is in the form of local cults. Each city with its surrounding district had its own god, whose authority was supreme. Thus Anu was worshipped in Erech, Bel in Nippur, Ea in Eridu, Sin in Uru, Shamash in Larsa and Sippar. When these cities began to be welded together into political systems, the gods also were put together into an organised pantheon in which political situations influenced the relations the gods were made to bear to each other. Thus when Babylon became the capital of the empire its special god, Marduk, became leader among the gods.

A second characteristic feature of the Babylonian religion is that it is based on natural phenomena. The myths are nature myths. The story of the original creation was in a way the prototype of what happened every year. The earth is covered with water from the winter rains (state of chaos). The spring sun (Marduk) fights with and overcomes the water (Tiamat); the earth appears, green things of all kinds and life are produced. The story of the flood may have referred to the annual inundation, with perhaps the added element of severe winds and a tidal wave from the south. Such inundations have occurred in historic times. Ishtar’s descent into the lower world marks the autumn when everything is dry and has been burned up by the fierce summer sun. Ishtar goes to seek the water of life, which in the Babylonian world was a most appropriate metaphor, because water actually was the life of the country. Without it the land was arid and desolate as to-day; with it, its luxuriant vegetation caused the region about Babylon to be called the garden of the gods (Karaduniash).

The creation legend as we have it must have been written after the consolidation of the empire with Babylon as its capital, because in the story Marduk, although one of the younger gods, is made the champion and leader of the others. The tablets on which the legend is contained now usually go by the name of _enuma elish_, “when above,” from the opening words. The opening lines of the story relating the creation of the gods, and the latter part telling of the creation of animals and man, we have already seen. The version of creation given here is practically the one Berosus gives of the Babylonians, which is found in Eusebius and which he quotes from Polyhistor (see Appendix A).

In the beginning was chaos, consisting of a watery mass. Only two beings existed--Apsu, the Deep, and Tiamat, the universal mother. These two represent the two formative elements from whose union the gods were created. First Lakhmu and Lakhamu were born, then Anshar and Kishar, and after a long interval the other great gods. Tiamat, after having brought forth the gods, conceived a hatred for them and created a large number of monsters to aid her in a battle against them and gave the command to her son Kingu. She bore: “giant snakes, sharp as to teeth, and merciless--with poison she filled their bodies as with blood.” Anshar sends his son Anu against Tiamat, but he is afraid to face her. After Ea also has been sent in vain, Marduk offers to take up the fight, but first demands to be recognised by the other gods as their champion. Anshar summons the great gods to a feast, informs them of all that has taken place, and calls on them to appoint Marduk as their defender. The gods do so and hail him with the following words (the translation of the Assyrian texts is based upon that of Jensen[h] in his _Cosmologie der Babylonier_):

Thou art the most honoured among the great gods Thy fate has no equal, thy decree is Anu. Marduk, thou art most honoured among the great gods Thy fate has no equal, thy decree is Anu. From now on thy word shall not be altered, To put up and to lower, shall be in thy hand; What goes out of thy mouth shall be established Thy decree shall not be resisted. No one among the great gods shall overstep thy boundary ........ Marduk, thou our avenger, We give thee dominion over the whole world.

To test his powers the gods place a garment before Marduk and tell him to bid it disappear and come back again at his word. When he has accomplished this prodigy the gods are pleased and exclaim “Marduk is king.” The avenger after equipping himself for the fray goes out to meet Tiamat and her host, taking with him his thunderbolt, spear, and net; he is followed by seven winds, which he has created. We take up the story again at the point where Marduk challenges Tiamat to battle:

“Stand! I and thou let us fight together--” When Tiamat heard these words She became like one demented, and lost her senses. Then cried out Tiamat wild and loud Her limbs trembled to their very foundations, She said an incantation, and spoke a formula, And of the gods of battle, she asked their weapons. They drew near, Tiamat and Marduk, wise among the gods, They advanced to battle, came near to fight-- Then the lord spread out his net and surrounded her. He let loose the evil wind that was behind him. When Tiamat opened her mouth to its full extent, He sent the evil wind into it, so that she could not close her lips. Filled her belly with terrible winds Her heart was … and she opened wide her mouth. He seized the spear and pierced through her belly Cut through her inward parts, and pierced her heart. He overcame her and destroyed her life, Threw down her body and stood upon it. When he had killed Tiamat, the leader, Her might was broken and her host scattered And the gods, her helpers, who went at her side Trembled, were afraid, and turned back.

After Marduk had dealt with the minor rebels

He returned to Tiamat, whom he had conquered He cut her in two parts like a fish He put up one half of her as a cover for the heavens, Placed before it a bolt and established a watchman-- And commanded him not to let her waters come forth.

The rest of the legend deals with the creation and has been mentioned elsewhere. Professor Gunkel[i] (in his _Schöpfung und Chaos_) in speaking of this myth says that Tiamat’s offspring, the monsters of the sea, are the stars in the constellations of the zodiac. The stars are the children of the night. Marduk is the spring sun, who fights with the waters, finally subdues them, and brings forth vegetation. This story of Marduk and his fight with the dragon is sometimes identified with the Christ story. The Babylonians also appear to have celebrated a festival at the new year, when the sun turned back from the equator and left the constellation of the water-man. This may be said to mark the birth of spring. Three months later when the god has grown sufficiently strong he fights with the waters (Tiamat Sin) and conquers.

The Babylonians pictured the earth as a cone-shaped mountain surrounded by water. Over this was stretched the dome of heaven behind which was the heavenly ocean and the home of the gods. In the dome were two gates through which Shamash the sun-god passed out in the morning and entered at night. The moon and stars were within the dome, and did not pass through it as did the sun. Underneath the thick crust of the earth’s surface the space was all filled with water, and within the crust was Arallu, the home of the dead and land of “no return.” This was supposed to be surrounded by seven walls. Although the real home of the gods was beyond the dome of heaven, they usually lived on the earth and had their council-chamber on the mountain of sunrise, near the gate through which Shamash came out in the morning.

The Babylonian gods are very human. They are born, live, love, fight, and even die, like the people on the earth. The conception is wholly materialistic. Alfred Jeremias[k] says of this religion: “A practical streak runs through the religion of the inhabitants of the Euphrates valley. Their gods are gods of the living; they are in active intercourse with them as helpers in every action, as rescuers from all evil. The whole religious interest centres on the necessities of this world. There is no room for the anxious reflection and philosophising as to the whence, and whither of the soul, which is so characteristic of the Egyptians. With death comes an end of strength and life, of hope and comfort. Hence their religion as such has little to do with conceptions of another world.”

The names of the chief gods have been already mentioned. Besides the _ilani rabuti_, the great gods, there were a hosts of smaller ones, and a large number of good and evil spirits. Sickness and disease were supposed to be brought by demons, the children of the under-world who performed the bidding of Allatu and Nergal, the rulers over hades. Allatu’s chief messenger was Namtar, the demon of pestilence. The Annunaki likewise did her errands of destruction. The Babylonians lived in constant terror of offending some of these divinities, and a large part of their literature was devoted to magical formulas and prayers for aid and protection. Before undertaking any deed it was customary to find out whether or not the omens were favourable. Certain days were particularly unlucky and on them nothing could be done. The 7th, 14th, 21st, and 28th days of every month were among the unlucky ones. The later Jewish sabbath is thus seen to have been originally an unlucky day rather than a holy day. Hugo Winckler has suggested an ingenious theory for the fact that thirteen has always been considered an unlucky number. In order to make the Babylonian calendrical system of lunar months agree with the solar year, it was necessary to insert an extra month. This thirteenth month was regarded as being in the way and disturbing calculations. So thirteen came to be regarded as a superfluous, unlucky number. Another sign of the zodiac was appointed for this extra month, and this was the sign of the raven.

A great many of the tablets which have been excavated contain omens. Omens were drawn from dreams, from the conjunction of stars and planets, from earthquakes, eclipses, and in short from all natural phenomena. Connected with this was the magical literature, the hymns, and penitential psalms. If all a man’s precautions had been in vain and disease had come upon him, there were magical formulas which might rescue him from his misery, certain prayers or hymns he might recite. Every Babylonian had his own protecting god and goddess, to whose care he was perhaps committed at birth, but the intervention of a priest was necessary to appease the god. The following prayer, from a tablet used as prayer-book for the use of priest and penitent, is taken from King’s[c] _Babylonian Religion and Mythology_:

O my God, who art angry, accept my prayer, O my goddess, who art angry, receive my supplication. Receive my supplication and let thy spirit be at rest. O my goddess, look with pity on me and accept my supplication. Let my sins be forgiven, let my transgressions be blotted out. Let the ban be torn away, let the bonds be loosened. Let the seven winds carry away my sighs. I will send away my wickedness, let the bird bear it to the heavens. Let the fish carry off my misery, let the river sweep it away. Let the beast of the field take it from me. Let the flowing waters of the river wash me clean.

To ascertain why the evil had come upon the man, questions like the following were asked, some of which show an advanced moral code:

Has he estranged the father from his son or the son from his father? Has he estranged the mother from her daughter or the daughter from her mother? Has he estranged the brother from his brother or the friend from his friend? Has he refused to set a captive free? Has he shut out a prisoner from the light? has he committed a sin against a god or against a goddess? Has he done violence to one older than himself? Has he said yes for no or no for yes? Has he used false scales? Has he accepted a wrong account? Has he set up a false landmark? Has he broken into his neighbour’s house? Has he come near his neighbour’s wife? Has he shed his neighbour’s blood?

On one old tablet which has a Summerian interlinear translation the stricken man turns to Marduk as an intercessor:

An evil curse like a demon has come upon the man Sorrow and trouble have fallen upon him Evil sorrow has fallen upon him An evil curse, a spell, a sickness, The evil curse has slain that man like a lamb. His god has departed from his body, His guardian goddess has left his side, He is covered by sorrow and trouble as with a garment, and he is overwhelmed. Then Marduk saw him He entered into the house of his father Ea and said to him: “O my father, an evil curse like a demon has beset the man.” Twice he spoke unto him and said “I know not what that man has done nor whereby he may be cured.” Ea made answer to his son Marduk: “O my son, what thou dost not know, what can I tell thee? O, Marduk, what thou dost not know, what can I tell thee? What I know, thou knowest, Go my son Marduk, Take him to the house of purification Take away the spell from him, remove the spell from him.”

A very pessimistic view of life is shown by the following complaint of a sick man quoted by Jeremias: “The day is sighing, the night a flood of tears; weeping is the month and misery the year.”

We have already seen specimens of Babylonian hymnology. The following hymn to Sin, as translated from Shrader’s[m] work on cuneiform inscriptions, shows real religious fervour:

Lord, ruler among the gods, who alone is great on heaven and earth, Father Nannar, Lord, God Amar, ruler among the gods ........ Merciful, gracious father, in whose hand the life of the whole land is held. O Lord, thy divinity is like the distant heaven, like the wide sea, full of majesty. He who has created the land, founded the temple, called it by name Father, generator of gods and men, who caused dwellings to be put up, established sacrifice Who calls to dominions, gives the sceptre, decides fate for distant days, Mighty leader, whose depths no god sees through Valiant one, whose knees never grow tired, who opens the way for the gods, his brothers, Who passes glorious from the depths of heaven to its heights, Who opens the gate of heaven, makes light for all men. Father, generator of all, who looks upon living beings … who thinks upon … Lord, who utters judgment for heaven and earth, whose decree no one alters Who holds fire and water, who directs living beings, What god is like to thee? ........ In heaven who is great? Thou alone art great. On earth, who is great? Thou alone art great. When thy word resounds in heaven, the Igigi throw themselves upon their faces; When thy word resounds on earth the Anunnaki kiss the ground. When thy word speeds above like the storm wind, it causes food and drink to flourish, When thy word settles upon the east, the green arises, Thy word makes stall and herd to be fat, expands living beings. Thy word causes right and justice to arise, so that men speak justice. Thy word is the distant heaven, the hidden under-world which no one sees through, Thy word, who can understand it, who is equal to it? O Lord, thou hast no rival in heaven in dominion nor on the earth in power, among the gods thy brothers.

THE EPIC OF GILGAMISH

The close relation existing between mythology and religion hardly needs to be pointed out. The great epic of the Babylonians and Assyrians--that of Gilgamish--is of special interest to us since it contains the Babylonian story of the flood. The hero’s name was formerly read as Izdubar, as the following quotation from Jeremias[n] in his _Izdubar-Nimrod_ shows.[a]

The epic, which was preserved in the royal library of Nineveh in the seventh century as a precious national possession, gives us a glimpse into the Babylonian history of a remote past. The poem deals principally with “kings who ruled the land in by-gone times,” and with a city “which was old” at the time of the flood, and the epic itself reaches back into very ancient times. Its scene is laid among cities in the Euphrates district: Uruk (Erech), Nippur, the “city of ships,” Sherippak and Babylon. The geographical horizon extends beyond these cities to the mountain Nisir, east of the Tigris, and southwards, beyond the Mashu mountain land, clear into the Persian Gulf. The central point of interest is the city Uruk, called _Uruk supuri_, “the well guarded.” Among the aristocracy of this city Izdubar makes himself distinguished, being “perfect in power, like a mountain ox, excelling the heroes in might.” He overcomes the jealousy of his fellow citizens and establishes an indigenous kingdom, namely by conquering the tyrant Khumbaba, who is shown by his name to be of Elamite descent. The attempt has been made to identify this historical background with the national uprising of Babylonia, which, according to Berosus, brought about the downfall of an Elamite dynasty ruling 2450-2250 B.C. That the tradition really did reach back to this age is proved by Babylonian seal-cylinders of the oldest kings, which unquestionably reproduce scenes from the epic, perhaps also the connection of the epic with certain constellations of the zodiac.

More important than the historical is the mythological background. Since Babylonian religion did not belong to the “aristocracy of book religions,” it is difficult to form a system from the abundance of religious literature, the views of which have been influenced by varying popular opinion. Hence the portrayal of the divine world as found in a finished epic is the more important. As in the inscription of King Nabunaid, written 2,000 years later, so here we find the two great divine triads, Anu, Bel, Ea, who represent three parts of the world according to Babylonian ideas (heaven, earth, ocean), and Shamash, Sin, Ishtar, who represent the chief heavenly bodies (Sun, Moon, Venus).

The relations between gods and men is pictured in a naïve childlike fashion, as in Homer. Ishtar tries to win the love of the hero Izdubar. Shamash establishes friendship between the hero and Eabani, the three great gods Anu, Bel, Ea whisper secrets into his ear. As Ishtar at one time mounts from out the city to the heaven of her father Bel, so the gods out of fear of the rising flood “crouch down like dogs at the portals of heaven”; they flock like flies around the sacrifice and “smell the good smell.”

One remarkable feature of the epic should be noticed here, namely, the importance attached to dreams. The whole action is set in motion by countless dreams, by means of which the gods show men the future and give them council. This view is characteristic of Babylonian and Assyrian religion. The ancient Babylonian king Gudea is shown the outline of the temple building in a dream. Asshurbanapal on his coming to the throne receives an address of encouragement from the priestly class, which is based on a dream of his grandfather Sennacherib, and in his campaigns inspiring dreams are sent to his soldiers from the goddess of war.[n]

Nothing definite is known as to the time of the composition of this epic. We do not know if the copy in Asshurbanapal’s library was made from a Babylonian original or not. It is not probable that the whole was written at one time or by one author.

The Gilgamish epic comprises twelve tablets. These are mutilated and broken in places leaving gaps in the story, but they are sufficiently well preserved to permit us to follow the main thread of the argument. When the scene opens the city of Erech is suffering under the severe misfortune of a protracted siege. The inhabitants are in distress and the gods do nothing to help them. This siege lasts for three years, during which time the gates of the city remain closed. Then Gilgamish appears, whether as conqueror or deliverer the mutilated condition of the tablet leaves in doubt. He was probably the former, since his rule is very severe and the people complain of his tyrannical acts. In their distress they appeal to the goddess Aruru, who is elsewhere associated with Marduk in the creation of mankind, to make a person who shall rival Gilgamish in strength and power. Aruru accordingly creates Ea-bani, a creature whose whole body is covered with long hair like a woman’s. The upper part of his body is like a man but his legs are those of a beast. This strange being lives among the beasts of the field, eating and drinking with them.

Gilgamish fearing that Ea-bani will be sent by the gods against him sends out a man called the hunter to catch and bring him to Erech. The hunter lies in wait for him three days, but on account of his great strength is afraid to attack him and returns to the city. Gilgamish then sends a harlot from the temple with the hunter, to tempt Ea-bani. This plan is successful. Ea-bani forsakes his cattle out of love for Achat, the harlot, and is persuaded by her to return to Erech and meet Gilgamish. One thinks involuntarily here of the story of Adam and Eve. There also it is a woman who tempts man and leads him to civilisation.

Ea-bani would like to match his strength with Gilgamish, but he is warned in a dream not to do so. Gilgamish is also told in a dream of Ea-bani’s coming, and the goddess to whom he appeals for interpretation of his dream advises him to make friends with the approaching hero. The intervention of Shamash, the sun-god, however, is necessary to persuade Ea-bani to become a companion and friend to Gilgamish.

The two heroes then proceed against the Elamite tyrant, Khumbaba. The epic tells of the long, hard road they have to follow, of their terror, and of the wonderful cedar grove in which the fortress of Khumbaba is placed. Gilgamish has several encouraging dreams to cheer them on, and they eventually succeed in killing the tyrant. On their return Gilgamish has the misfortune to incur Ishtar’s displeasure. The goddess sues for his love and invites him to become her husband. He, however, refuses her favour, even reproaching her for her cruel treatment of her former lovers, Tammuz among them, all of whom she has forsaken and destroyed. Ishtar in her rage at being repulsed hastens to her father, Anu, who creates a divine bull to attack Gilgamish. The latter, however, with Ea-bani’s help succeeds in conquering the bull. He sacrifices his magnificent horns to Shamash and proudly boasts that he will conquer Ishtar as well as the bull. But here his success is at an end. Ea-bani dies, probably stricken by Ishtar, and Gilgamish himself is afflicted by her with a dreadful disease, which strikes terror to his heart at the thought that he must die like his friend.

Izdubar wept for Ea-bani, his friend; In sorrow he laid himself down in the field. “I will not die like Ea-bani, Grief has entered my soul. I am afraid of death And lay me down in the field.”

Gilgamish then determines to seek Sit-napishtim and beseech his help to rescue him from disease and death. After various experiences he comes to the mountain Mashu, the sunset mountain, whose gates are guarded by scorpion men. They let him enter and he journeys for twenty-four hours in intense darkness before he emerges into the sunlight and passes by a tree and grove with precious stones for fruit. He then comes to the sea coast, ruled over by a princess Sabitum. She advises him to seek out Arad-Ea, the former pilot of Sit-napishtim, who may possibly carry him across the waters. Arad-Ea consents, builds a boat with the aid of Gilgamish and they set out together. The most difficult part of the voyage is the journey across the “waters of death.” The two finally reach the island home of Sit-napishtim who, at Gilgamish’s request, tells the story of his escape from the flood (as translated from Jeremias[n]):

Sit-napishtim said to him, to Gishduba (Gilgamish), “I will reveal to thee, Gishduba, something hidden. And a secret of the gods will I tell thee. Shurippak, a city which thou knowest--on the banks of the Euphrates it is situated-- This city is old. The gods within it, Their heart led the great gods to bring up a deluge. Their father Anu was there, their counsellor, the mighty Bel, Their herald Ninib, their leader En-nu-gi. Ninigiazag (Ea) was with them and related their words to a hut of reeds, saying: “O reed hut, O reed hut! O wall, wall! Reed hut hear! wall understand! Thou man of Shurippak, son of Ubaratutu, Make a house, build a ship, leave thy possessions, seek thy life. Abandon thy goods, and save thy life. Bring up living seed of every kind into the ship, The ship, which thou shalt build. Its dimensions must be measured; Its breadth and its strength must suit each other. Thou shalt place it in the ocean.” I understood and said to Ea, my lord, “See, my lord, what thou hast commanded I shall heed and perform. But, how shall I answer to the city, to the people and to the elders?” Ea opened his mouth and spake, said to me, his slave, “This answer shalt thou say to them: Because Bel hateth me No longer will I live in your city, nor lay my head on Bel’s earth. To the deep will I go down and live with Ea, my lord. He will then cause it to rain upon ye abundantly. A large number of birds, a crowd of fishes, A quantity of animals, abundant harvest.…

The lines here are too mutilated to make much meaning. According to some interpretations Sit-napishtim assures his fellow-citizens of coming prosperity so that they have no misgivings as to his leaving them; others, on the contrary, indicate that Sit-napishtim made no secret of the coming deluge. Sit-napishtim then relates how he built the ship, gives its dimensions, and tells what he put into it. He continues (Jeremias’[n] translation):

“I brought up into the ship my whole family, and my dependants, Cattle of the field, beasts of the field, artisans all together I brought them up. Shamash had appointed a signal, ‘The lord of darkness will send a heavy rain in the evening. Then enter into the ship and close the door.’ The appointed time came; The lord of darkness sent a heavy rain in the evening. I feared the beginning of the day; I was afraid to look upon the day. I entered the ship and closed the door. To the pilot of the ship, to Puzur-Bel, the boatman, I intrusted the ship and what was in it. When the first dawn appeared A black cloud arose from the foundation of heaven Ramman thundered within it. Nabu and Marduk preceded it. They advanced as leaders over mountain and earth. Uragal pulled up the anchor; Ninib went forth and caused the storm to follow. The Annunaki raised their torches; They lighted the earth with their beams. The thunder of Ramman mounted to heaven; Everything light was turned to darkness.”

Ramman floods the land, the tempest rages for a whole day, a strong wind blows the water like mountains upon the people.

“Brother did not see his brother, men could not be distinguished; in heaven The gods were afraid of the deluge. They quailed, they mounted up to the heaven of Anu. The gods crouched down like dogs, at the borders of heaven. Ishtar screamed like a woman in travail. The lady of the gods cried with a loud voice ‘Former man has been turned again to clay Because I counselled an evil thing in the council of the gods.’”

Ishtar complains that her offspring have become like fish spawn and the gods weep with her. After six days, however, the storm abates, the sea becomes quiet. Sit-napishtim looks out of the window and weeps at the sight that meets his gaze. Mankind is turned to clay, the world is all sea. After twelve days land appears, and the ship sticks fast on the top of Mount Nisit, where it remains for six days.

“When the seventh day drew nigh, I sent out a dove and let her go. The dove flew hither and thither, But as there was no resting place for her, she returned. Then I sent out a swallow and let her go. The swallow flew hither and thither, But as there was no resting place for her, she returned. Then I sent out a raven and let her go. The raven flew off and saw the diminishing of the waters, She came near and croaked, but did not return. Then I brought out (all), offered a sacrifice to the four winds; I made a libation on the top of the mountain, I laid out the vessels seven by seven, Under them I put reed, cedar-wood and incense. The gods smelled the smell. The gods smelled the good smell. The gods gathered like flies about the lord of the sacrifice.”

When Ishtar arrives she bitterly accuses Bel for having destroyed mankind and refuses to let him approach the sacrifice. Bel on his part is angry that any man whatever has escaped. Ea interposes, rebukes Bel for his deed, and tells him that in the future some other device shall be used to punish mankind. Bel accepts the censure and himself leads Sit-napishtim and his wife out of the ship and blesses them. They are then transported to an island at the “mouth of the streams” where they are to live forever.

After listening to this story Gilgamish is cured of his disease by Sit-napishtim who also tells him of a plant which has the power to prolong life. Gilgamish sets out with Arad-Ea to find it, and their search is indeed successful; but later on in the journey a demon steals the plant, and Gilgamish returns sorrowfully home. Here he continues to mourn for his lost friend Ea-bani. In his desire to see him again he appeals in turn to Bel, Sin, and Ea to assist him, but they are powerless to help him. It is Nergal, god of the dead, who grants his request and “opened the earth, let the spirit of Ea-bani come out of the earth like a breath of wind.” When asked to describe the under-world Ea-bani at first answers, “I cannot tell you, my friend, I cannot tell you,” then he bids him sit down and weep while he gives him a gloomy account of the place, which closes with the following lines (Jeremias’ translation):

“On a couch he lieth, drinking pure water. He who was killed in battle--thou hast seen it, I have seen it-- His father and his mother hold his head And his wife kneels at his side. He whose corpse lies in the field--thou hast seen it, I have seen it-- His soul has no rest in the world. He whose soul has no one to care for it--thou hast seen it, I have seen it. The dregs of the cup, the remnants of the feast--what is thrown on the street, that is his food.”[h]

This is the end of the epic. It has been suggested that the whole forms a solar myth and is divided into twelve parts to correspond to the twelve months. According to this theory the sixth tablet, relating to Ishtar, and her treatment of Tammuz and her other lovers, corresponds to the sixth month. It is the month when everything seems dry and dead after the hot summer sun, and in this month the festival of Tammuz was celebrated, as a characteristic of which was the weeping for Tammuz related in Ezekiel viii. 14. The seventh tablet speaking of Gilgamish’s illness would thus correspond to the seventh month, the one following the summer solstice, when the power of nature seems to grow less, and this was attributed to a disease of the sun.

ISHTAR’S DESCENT INTO HADES

This idea is brought out more fully in the legend of Ishtar’s descent into the under world. It is possible that the story used to be recited in connection with the festival of Tammuz just mentioned. Ishtar is pictured as descending into the lower realms, probably in search of her young husband. The picture it gives us of the conception the Babylonians had of life after death is very valuable. The poem begins:

To the land of no return, to the land … Ishtar the daughter of Sin inclined her ear. To the house of darkness, the dwelling of Irkalla To the house from which none who enter ever return To the road whose course does not turn back. To the house in which he who enters is deprived of light, Where dust is their nurture and mud their food. They see not the light, they dwell in darkness. They are clothed like birds in a garment of feathers. On the doors and bolts is spread dust. When Ishtar reached the gate of the land of no return She spoke to the porter at the gate “Porter, open thy gate, Open thy gate, I will enter. If thou dost not open thy gate, and I do not enter, I will strike the door, I will break the bolt, I will strike the threshold and break down the door. I will raise up the dead to consume the living, The dead shall be more numerous than the living!” The porter opened his mouth and spoke, Spoke to the powerful Ishtar: “Stay, my lady, do not break it down, I will go and announce thy name to the queen Allatu.”

The porter then informs Allatu that her sister Ishtar stands at the door. The goddess is displeased at the news but bids the porter open the door and treat her according to the “ancient laws.” These demanded that she should lose some part of her apparel at each of the seven gates of the under-world until she stood naked before the throne of its goddess. At the first gate the porter takes away her crown and she asks: “Why, O porter, dost thou take the great crown from my head!” He answers: “Enter, O lady, for these are the commands of the mistress of the world.” At each gate Ishtar remonstrates at having her ornaments taken from her, and each time the porter returns the same answer.

When Ishtar comes before Allatu, the latter commands her messenger Namtar to smite the goddess with disease in all parts of her body. But while Ishtar is being detained in the lower world, all life has stopped on the earth’s surface. The gods demand her release. A being is specially created to bring her back. The rest of the story and the meaning of this and the flood myth is told by C. P. Tiele[o] as follows:[a]

The story of Ishtar’s descent into hades is unmistakably a nature myth, which describes in picturesque fashion her descent into the under-world to seek the springs of living water, probably the central force of light and heat in the world. When she is imprisoned there by Allatu, the goddess of death and of the shadow world, and even visited with all sorts of diseases, all growth and generation stand still in the world, so that the gods take council and decide to demand her release. Ea accordingly creates a wonderful being a kind of priest, called “his light shineth,” who is to seek out the fountain of life, and whom Allatu cannot withstand, however much she may scold and curse. The goddess is set free, returns to the upper world and brings her dead lover Tammuz back to life by sprinkling him with the water of immortality. This myth is not cosmological nor ethical, but has already become a pure anthropomorphic narration, the physical basis for certain episodes and details of which is often not clear, and which has a tendency to strengthen belief in immortality. The account of the flood also, which we have in several versions and which was itself put together out of various parts, some of them heterogeneous, betrays the fact that it was put together by a polytheist and originated in a nature myth. But the nature myths as such lie already so far behind the author, there is such a naïve humour in the way the gods are represented, everything happens in such a human fashion--one needs only to think of Ishtar’s complaint that she has created men but no brood of fishes, of the sly excuse with which Ea excuses himself to Bel for having rescued his favourite from the destruction planned by the latter, one needs only to hear how Bel is preached at by the wise Ea for his unreasonable and blind passion, and how the great Ishtar declares him to have forfeited his share of the sacrifice, and then see how he silently acknowledges his wrong by himself accompanying the man over whose rescue he had become so excited, and raising him with his family to a place among the gods--one needs only to think of all this to see that the narrator made use of the mythological material only to describe the fall of sinful humanity and at the same time to remind his hearers that the gods always have means at their command, such as hunger, pestilence, and wild beasts, to punish the evil-doer.[o]

The Babylonian view of life after death was particularly gloomy. There was no hope of anything better. The highest state of happiness pictured was to lie on a couch and drink clear water; even for the pious it was a place of gloom. And there was no possibility of escaping from it. Sit-napishtim tells Gilgamish in this connection that death must come to all (we translate again from the version of Jeremias[n]):

So long as houses are built, So long as contracts are made, So long as brothers quarrel, So long as enmity exists, So long as rivers bear their waves [to the sea] ........ The Anunnaki and the great gods determine fate And Mammetum, the creator of destiny, with them. They determine life and death, The days of death are not known.[h]

We have seen the legend telling of a visit to the lower world; there are two which tell of visits to heaven. One is in connection with Etana. In Asshurbanapal’s library were a series of tablets containing the Etana legend. One portion of the story tells how Shamash helped Etana to find a plant which would help his wife in child-birth. Another narrates how Etana mounted to heaven on the back of an eagle. They pause at different stages to look at the earth beneath them. At the first stop: “The earth appears like a mountain, the sea has become a pool.” They go further and the eagle again calls to Etana to look at the earth. This time the sea looks like a belt around the earth. The next time he looks the sea has become a mere gardener’s ditch. After reaching the gate of Anu, Bel, and Ea, the eagle wants to go still further and persuades Etana to accompany him to Ishtar’s abode. They fly until the earth appears a mere “garden bed,” but here the rash attempt of the eagle to reach the highest regions appears to be punished. The two are hurled down from heaven upon the earth. Another part of the legend tells of a deceit practised upon the eagle by the serpent, aided by Shamash, in which the eagle dies a miserable death.

The second story of a visit to heaven is found in the legend of Adapa. This legend was on one of the tablets found at Tel Amarna. Adapa is a son of the god Ea, and is represented as serving in his temple. One day as he is fishing in the sea the south wind overturns his boat. Adapa then fights with the south wind and succeeds in breaking its wings so that it does not blow for seven days. At the end of this time Anu, in heaven, becomes aware that the south wind has not been blowing and inquires the reason. When told, he becomes very angry that anyone should have had the audacity to interfere with any of his creatures. He accordingly sends for Adapa to appear before him. Ea gives his son advice as to his conduct, telling him how to secure the good favour of the two porters at the gate, one of whom is Tammuz. He tells him further: “When thou comest before Anu, they will offer thee food of death--do not eat. Water of death they will offer thee--do not drink. They will offer thee a garment--put it on. They will offer thee oil--anoint thyself.” Adapa then reaches heaven, and everything happens as Ea has told him. Only the food and water which are offered him are of life not of death, and thus Adapa loses his chances of eternal life. Anu looks at him in amazement and exclaims: “O Adapa, why didst thou not eat and drink? Now thou canst not live.” Here, as in the case of Adam in the biblical story, whose name by the way may possibly be identical with Adapa, we see that a deceit was practised on man. In each case he is told that the food and water of life will bring him death, although the Babylonian story differs from the biblical in that the former freely and gladly accords man knowledge, as represented by the clothing and oil for anointment, which may be regarded as symbols of civilisation.

In the Euphrates valley religion was very closely associated with the actual life of the nation. The temples were storehouses and banking establishments; the priests were lawyers and scribes. Every historical inscription contains a reference to the gods. Victory was due to their intervention. Nothing was conceived without them. Their festivals were the great events of the year. The German excavating society has recently brought to light the old procession street between Babylon and Borsippa over which the image of the god Nabu used to be carried on his annual visit to Marduk at Babylon. This street was decorated with glazed, coloured tiles, representing a stately procession of lions and other beasts, which show a high grade of artistic talent.

The Babylonian religion shows its development plainly. In its earliest phase we have the belief in a great many spirits and demons, who could be controlled by magic. Then comes the period of local cults followed by the organised pantheon, in which we see faint signs of a conception of one god manifested in many forms.[a]

To sum up in the words of Tiele: From all that has been said it will be seen that the religion of the Babylonians had at an early date attained a comparatively high stage of development. It had not yet crossed the boundary of monotheism but remained a theocratic, monarchical polytheism; nevertheless it came very near that boundary. The gods of mythology were already treated with great freedom, and the disgust which some of their deeds called forth was not disguised. A comparatively pure and lofty conception of the highest divinity had already been developed, even if it was called upon by different names. However much superficiality and formality, however many superstitions and magical customs may have been connected with the divine worship, it was yet not lacking in deep religious feeling and moral earnestness, which is shown particularly in the penitential psalms.[o]