CHAPTER XIV--LIFE, MANNERS, CUSTOMS, LAW, RELIGION ( A ) THE EARLY SUMERIAN PERIOD 1 LAWS, MANNERS AND CUSTOMS

THANKS to the indefatigable labours of PÈre Scheil and M. Thureau-Dangin, and to the admirable work of M. Genouillac on Sumerian Society, in which that scholar publishes, translates and comments on many of the early tablets from TellÔ, we are able to obtain a very fair idea of the manners and customs of the Sumerians at the time of the first dynasty of Lagash.

An investigation of the conditions of any society naturally commences with a brief consideration of the laws, which regulated the process of propagation upon which the continuance and prosperity of the community ultimately depends. It would appear that from the earliest Sumerian times marriage was regarded in the light of a legal contract, and divorce could similarly only be effected by legal procedure. But the Sumerian marriage laws of the time of Lugal-anda and Urukagina differed from the European laws of to-day in at least one important point, the contract being made by the man with his father-in-law rather than with his prospective wife, and consequently in the case of divorce it was the father-in-law and not the divorced wife who was entitled to satisfaction.

Polyandry was evidently not unknown, for Urukagina had occasion to apply the utmost rigour of the law to its repression, although it had hitherto been by no means condoned, but was on the contrary already regarded as a criminal offence, and not only was this the case, but even polygamy seems to have been discountenanced, for such expressions as “the wife of the priest of Nin-girsu,” or “the wife of the patesi” implicitly suggests that there was only one lady in it, and that there was no liability to confusion in the matter. It is however quite conceivable that the patesi had an official wife, just like the priests of Amen, or the kings of Egypt, the other ladies of the harem not ranking with the royal spouse or enjoying the same distinguishing appellative, but this is of course a matter of conjecture. However that may be, there is abundant evidence to show that the Sumerians compare very favourably with other primitive peoples in their regard for and treatment of women. They could act as free agents in the matter of property, and could be legal witnesses to contracts, while widows were especially safeguarded against the extortion of those in power, and the very poor were legally protected against the rapacity of the priest, who exacted a kind of tithe from the members of the community. Two other social reforms carried out during this reign are noteworthy in this connection, one being the abolition of the tax hitherto laid upon the parties to a divorce, and the other, the reduction of the priests’ burial fees. But in spite of the checks that it was thus found necessary to place upon the extortionate priesthood, the service of the gods was deserving of special recompense, and thus it was that in accordance with this principle an orphan, the son of a priestess of the goddess Bau, received a larger pension than other orphans.

But apart from what may be termed domestic and family duties, women were expected to perform other functions even as early as the time of Urukagina. Some women devoted themselves to the more menial services of the gods and attended to the offerings of the sanctuary; others again were employed as weavers, while another class of women attached to the court were occupied with the care of sheep, goats and other small domestic animals. Some again were gate-keepers, and a certain number pursued the art of hair-dressing.

As might be expected, the trades pursued by men were more numerous and various. The boat-building trade engaged a considerable number of the men of Lagash, while carpenters and furniture-makers also appear to have had plenty to do. The currier’s trade similarly flourished, and among the more Æsthetic trades which were practised, perfumery and jewellery may be specifically mentioned, while of the proficiency to which the art of metal-working and stone-carving had been brought, we have abundant evidence in the numerous bas-reliefs, figures and statuettes that have come down to us. A large part of the working population were gardeners or tillers of the soil, for the Babylonians had long since emerged from the bedouin stage of primitive civilization, and had settled upon the land, which they cultivated apparently with great success. Among the domesticated animals of which they made use, the cow, the sheep, the ass and the goat may be specifically singled out. The ass was used both for riding and also for draft purposes. The ox was the principal beast of labour, his services being required both in the work of irrigation and in the transport of building materials, though the ass was also sometimes employed for these and similar purposes. The ox was further used for food, while cows were seemingly reserved for breeding and for supplying milk, from which they made butter, and possibly also cheese. The sheep was reared for the double purpose of providing wool as a material for clothing, and meat for consumption, some breeds being held in particularly high value for their wool, while others were specially prized for their tastiness as an article of diet, though some were utilized for both of these purposes. It appears to have been the custom to offer the flesh of the sheep in whole or in part to the gods before mortal man ventured to partake thereof, the shorn wool being given over to the female weaver of the harem. The sheep enjoying the especial royal patronage was white in colour, and was therefore presumably the most uncommon and the most highly valued, while the commonest breed was brown. The male sheep or lamb was usually selected for sacrifice to the gods in preference to the female. The kid seems to have been regarded as a medium of exchange, at all events rent was paid by means of kids, or sometimes sheep, while the goat often served as a sacrificial victim as we have seen elsewhere.174 The kids belonging to the goddess Bau were tended by the women of the harem, though also sometimes by herdsmen. Goats as well as sheep were held in high value for their wool, two species being particularly singled out, one being known as the white-fleeced goat and the other as the black-fleeced. Other animals of a nondescript character also played an important part in the life of the people as well as in the service of the gods. Birds too formed part of the offerings due to the powers above, the principal of which were apparently the goose, the duck, the chicken and the turtle dove.

The fertility of the soil naturally encouraged its cultivation even in the earliest times. Part of the land in the time of Urukagina belonged to the royal domains, the remainder being occupied by private individuals. Cereals, such as corn and barley, were cultivated with success, as in the days of Herodotus,175 while some of the land was reserved for fruit trees and vegetable products.

But the land was not entirely divided up into crown-lands and landed estates, “small ownership” accounted for a certain amount of the available ground, and it would appear that even poor women sometimes had their little plots; the small owners were often however the victims of the extortionate capitalist, and their wrongs from time to time called for redress. On such occasions the official entrusted with the task of readjusting matters took great care to distinguish between arable-land and land which did not admit of being cultivated. The supervision of the royal estates involved, as might be expected, the employment of a whole army of agricultural officials with different degrees of responsibility and varying duties to perform. Agriculture in the time of Urukagina even as to-day entailed a regular series of operations: the land had to be ploughed, the seed sown, and the harvest reaped, and last, but perhaps the most important and the most laborious of all, there was the work of irrigation, which in a land subject to floods in winter and a rainless semi-tropical heat in summer required constant attention and an infinite amount of hard work. The cutting of canals, even in our own day, with all the appliances at the disposal of modern hydraulic science, is by no means an easy or quickly accomplished task, and we can readily understand that the labour was no less, and the process no simpler some four or five thousand years ago. The work of irrigation, so essential and so arduous, was not left to individual enterprise, but was undertaken by the state and formed one of the principal departments of public works, and the early rulers of Lagash seem to have been as proud of their irrigation-engineering performances as they were of their triumphs on the battle-field. The persons employed were either regular engineers, or else navvies turned on to the work for the time being. But the work of irrigation was not finished with the cutting of the canals; some means had to be devised for conveying the water from the canals to the soil. No doubt in earlier times this was done by means of a hand machine, perhaps consisting in a bucket attached to a pole, to the other end of which a counterpoising weight was suspended. In Assyrian times,176 these machines were set by the side of a “pit” or cistern, which was often a depression in the bed of the stream, into which the buckets were lowered and from which they were raised when full, or else a pit dug actually on the field into which the water of the canal flowed by means of a runnel. The machine itself in its simplest form resembles the modern “shadÛf,” such as was used in ancient Egypt177 and is in common use among the fellahin of Upper Egypt to-day. But on big estates some more efficient apparatus would be obviously required, and was undoubtedly used, at all events by the Assyrians. What the larger machines were, we do not know, but as Johns suggests, they may have very possibly consisted in a set of buckets fastened to a wheel, which was revolved by oxen, the buckets taking up the water as the wheel brought them to the bottom, and emptying their contents on their way round: but whatever the machine was it must have been fairly elaborate, for it sometimes required as many as eight oxen to work it.

The important part which agriculture played in the life of the community is shown by the name of one of the months which was called “the month during which the oxen labour.” The rainy season of November and December over, the labourers proceeded to sow the seed, the harvest of which was to be reaped in the summer during the “month of harvesting.” The corn was cut with a kind of sickle, after which the grain was beaten or else trodden by oxen on the field itself. Next it was passed through a sieve, and was then ready to be distributed or stored in the granaries.

As we have already seen, much the same animals were reared for the maintenance and comfort of man some five thousand years ago as to-day. Human nature and human requirements vary but little compared with the marked differences which separate one civilization from another, and one stage of culture from one more primitive or more advanced, though these differences are indeed superficial rather than fundamental, but the elementary laws upon which human life depends essentially belong to those things which are fundamental, and in that sense they are eternal. Thus it was that the members of Urukagina’s community partook of beef, mutton or lamb according to the season, as we do to-day; his bill of fare however not only comprised joints but also poultry and birds—chicken, duck, goose, or turtle as the case might be. Fish of all kinds, including both fresh-water and salt-water fish, were prepared in various ways for food, while milk, butter and cheese all appear to have been in regular use. Wheat and barley, as we have several times had occasion to note, were grown on a large scale, and without doubt formed the staple food of the people, providing them with an ample supply of material for cakes and different kinds of bread, including milk loaves and black bread. The principal fruits which were cultivated at this period, were dates, figs, pomegranates and grapes: they were eaten cooked and uncooked, sometimes forming part of a fruit salad, at other times being made into fruit cakes.

The date-palm flourished everywhere and was a principal means of support to the poor, while the dates themselves seem to have been used as a medium of exchange. The apple appears to have been cultivated and to have furnished certain drink,178 while the tamarisk provided a kind of sweet gum. As regards vegetables, onions, radishes, cucumbers and beans appear to have been the most favoured, though various other vegetable products, which have not as yet been identified, are mentioned in the texts. At this early period the art of fermenting cereals was already known, and beer, date-wine, and other alcoholic drinks were to be found in the Sumerian cellars.

With their arts and crafts we have dealt elsewhere, as also with their architectural remains, which however afford us little or no information regarding the structure of private dwelling-places, but from the literature we learn that wood as well as brick was used more extensively in their building operations than we should suppose. Wool formed the principal material for making clothes, though linen was also possibly manufactured,179 while fur was sometimes worn, presumably in the cold weather.

Business transactions were made by contracts, the transactions in question usually having reference to the sale of slaves, animals or other property. The validity of the contracts apparently depended upon their being duly attested, as in later times, the witnesses receiving gifts for their services. In regard to the purchase of slaves, and the price which they fetched in the market, it is a significant fact that according to the stele of Manishtusu, an ass and a slave were worth exactly the same, which betrays a lack of appreciation of the superiority of the working capacity of a human being over that of a brute beast.

But the crown and the church took good care not to allow the laity the full possession of their own property, and managed to make a very comfortable livelihood for themselves by means of various impositions and taxes. Farm produce, garden fruits, fish, cattle, wool and perfumes were all levied as royal or ecclesiastical dues, while the temple sacrifices were of course for the most part mere perquisites of the priests, though the latter had to hand a goodly proportion over to their royal patron.

A civilization such as this, with its commercial enterprises and its legal transactions, of course presupposes the invention of systems for ascertaining the weights and measures of the various objects and different forms of property with which those transactions were immediately concerned. There was a square or area measure, a sine qu non in property-conveyancing; there was a long measure, equally necessary for the sale and purchase of wood or stuffen goods, the smallest unit of which appears to have been the thumb. Then again the daily requirements of man made the invention of a measure of capacity an absolute necessity. Other modes of reckoning besides the regular metrical systems were however sometimes adopted, thus fishermen appear to have sold their fish either by number or by the basket, while liquids were measured by means of different sized vessels. Lastly there was a weight measure, which was the same in Urukagina’s time as in that of the later dynasty of Ur.

2. RELIGION

The religion of the Babylonians and Assyrians was polytheistic throughout the whole course of their history. It is true that in later times a certain tendency towards monotheism was exhibited, but it never became forcible enough to create such a revolution in the religious ideas of the people as the change from polytheism to monotheism necessarily implies. The gods worshipped in the later period of Gudea were, with the exception of Nin-gish-zi-da the personal god of Gudea, known and venerated in the time of Urukagina.180 It is further an interesting and noteworthy fact that the name Gishgibilgemesh (Gilgamesh) is sometimes accompanied by the determinative for “god” in the literature of the time, a clear indication that even at this date the hero of Babylonian folk-lore was accredited with divine or quasi-divine attributes. The local god of Lagash was Nin-girsu; to him the land belonged, and it was he who entrusted the government of it to the king; the people of Lagash are indeed identified with their divine lord, their triumphs are his, and their wrongs are crimes against his godhead. The priest of Nin-girsu ranked immediately after the patesi himself, and his temples are entirely national in character. The very palace of the patesi was in reality the house of Nin-girsu, while that of his queen was the dwelling-place of Nin-girsu’s divine spouse, the goddess Bau. Another goddess who was deeply revered and worshipped even as early as Ur-NinÂ’s day was the Lady NinÂ, from whom the founder of the dynasty derived his royal name, while the goddess Gatumdug, in whose honour Ur-Nin built a temple, was regarded as the “Mother of Lagash.” En-lil, the ever famous lord of Nippur, also occupied a prominent place in the assemblage of gods at this time; he is mentioned first in the royal protocols of Eannatum and Entemena, and is also first in the divine invocations on the Vulture Stele of the former ruler.

But the influence of the powers unseen upon the minds and lives of the people is reflected in the authority of the priests. The priest, minister or servant is not in truth “greater than his lord,” but his authority and his power are entirely proportional to those enjoyed by his heaven-born master. The temptation on the part of earthly emissaries to abuse the power which their position gives them is generally found to be irresistible, and the priests of Lagash were, as we have seen, no exceptions to the all but universal rule. The power enjoyed by the high priest of Nin-girsu may be judged from the fact that both Enlitarzi and Enetarzi occupied this position before they ascended the throne.

Sacrifice formed the principal part of early Sumerian worship; animals, birds, fruit, vegetables, bread and cakes all contributing to the heavily-laden altars of the gods, and incidentally to the rapacious appetites and pockets of the priests; offerings were also made to the statues of the living and the dead, the offerings being placed on an altar close to the statue; thus a certain Shagshag seems to have derived satisfaction by placing offerings before her own effigy, while the statue of the deceased Ur-Nin was similarly honoured. Another interesting practice in vogue at this period was that of burning oil-lamps before the statues. The latter were apparently votive in character, and they seem to have performed the religious obligations required of the people whom they represented, to have actually offered the prayers inscribed on their lifeless bodies, and, in short, to have played the noble part of a vicarious worshipper. Without doubt this is the real explanation of the devotional attitude displayed by Gudea in his statues. Magic and divination, the ever-ready handmaids of all primitive religions, were cultivated and fervently believed in at this period as in later times, prophets, seers, and dream-interpreters being almost as much in demand as they are to-day.

A special order of priests was appointed to take funerals and perform the necessary rites and ceremonies, and they received fees or honoraria for their services. The dead required sustenance in the grave, and it was customary to place seven jars of liquor and four hundred and twenty loaves of bread beside the corpse; this custom had become virtually binding and obligatory upon the unfortunate relations of the deceased, and one of Urukagina’s reforms was the reduction of these dues.

The temples themselves, which sometimes stood in their own grounds and were surrounded by a sacred wood, were enriched with statues, vases, inscribed slabs, treasures of silver and precious stones, and luxuries of all kinds.

The actual and inward piety of the people of Lagash, as of the Babylonians and Assyrians of a later period is evinced in the divinely-compounded names which they bore, names which were clearly intended to secure the assistance and favour of the god whose earthly namesakes they were, and in whose honour these names were compounded. Thus the designation of one individual is “En-lil is my defence,” of another, “Bau is my mother,” and of a third “Enki is my companion,” names which vividly recall some of the proper names in the Old Testament. Another striking testimony to the reality of what may be termed the individual religion of those days, is the prevailing belief in the beneficence of one particular god towards oneself; it is clear that the personal element in the religious feelings and aspirations of the times was not satisfied by the oblations and ceremonies of the official cults, but sought and presumably found satisfaction in the comforting belief that some one god really understood the peculiar circumstances, difficulties and perplexities of the aspirant, and, understanding, might be counted upon to render help in time of need.

(B) THE KHAMMURABI PERIOD

1. LAWS, MANNERS AND CUSTOMS

The reign of Khammurabi is in some respects the half-way house in the history of Mesopotamian civilization. The king was of course the supreme head of the state, and indeed he was not only “the first gentleman” in Babylonia, but also enjoyed the unique privilege and blessing of being a demigod. The deification of kings was a practice in vogue centuries before the time of Khammurabi, and it was doubtless a practice assiduously cultivated by the kings themselves. Some of the early Semite kings of Kish were deified after death, while the name of Shar-GÂni-sharri of Agade is often written with the divine determinative, and the name of his son NarÂm-Sin is hardly ever written without it. But during the later dynasty of Ur the practice grew up of deifying the king while still alive, instead of waiting for him to take his seat on the bench of gods after death. Of Khammurabi’s divine nature we have evidence in the use of such names as “Khammurabi-ilu” (==Khammurabi is god), as well as in the frequent coupling of his name with those of the gods in oaths.

After the king, but a long way after, come the nobility and gentry, a class which not only comprehended the men of high birth but also those who, though artisans, had the distinction of belonging to old trade guilds, among which may be mentioned carpenters, tailors, builders, or potters. Next came what may be termed the lower middle classes, while at the bottom rung of the ladder—if indeed he can correctly be said to have been on the ladder at all—was the slave, who was nothing more than a piece of goods or a chattel.

The full extent of Khammurabi’s empire is not known, but his claim to immortality rests not on the ever-shifting sands of territorial aggrandizement, but on the solid rock of moral progress. To form an accurate estimate of the influence which Khammurabi’s code of laws has had on the Mosaic code and indirectly on the European codes of to-day is beyond our power, but one fact is indisputable, and that is that the legal code of Khammurabi some four thousand years ago enshrines many of those principles of justice and mercy which we are apt to regard as the peculiar offspring of our own enlightened age.

Many however of the laws embraced in this world-famed code show little or no variation from those in force if not actually systematized in the time of Urukagina. The laws relating to marriage are almost a replica of those which obtained among the early Sumerians, the contract being still made between the suitor and the father of the prospective bride, to whom he normally paid a price for his daughter’s hand, the price of course varying according to the station in life of the parties concerned. The sum given to the father was often handed over by him to his daughter, but if no children were born of the marriage the man was entitled to receive back the price he had paid for his wife on her death, if it had not been returned to him previously. The father in his turn usually gave his daughter a dowry or marriage-portion, which on her death reverted to the family in the event of her having no children. The dowries often comprised various kinds of property including gold and silver, slaves, furniture and apparel, and generally appear to have exceeded in value the marriage-price paid by the husband. If children born of the marriage survived the wife, her dowry was divided amongst them. Even if the woman was divorced she retained her marriage-portion, though it was forfeited in the event of gross moral misconduct on her part. In the eyes of the law a married man and woman were one, each being held accountable for the other’s debts, not excepting even prenuptial liabilities. But though the Babylonian of Khammurabi’s day, as in the time of Urukagina, was apparently a monogamist, he was permitted to have a concubine in the event of his wife not providing him with an heir, the children of the concubine being regarded as legitimate, and the concubine being entitled to all the respect and consideration due to a wife. There are various clauses in the code dealing with special cases, such as the marriage of a free woman with a slave, or the marriage of votaries, but for a detailed account of these, reference must be made to the standard works on the Khammurabi Code, among which may be specially mentioned Harper’s Code of Hammurabi181 and John’s translation of the code in his Babylonian and Assyrian Laws, Contracts and Letters.

As in the earlier period, the Babylonians of Khammurabi’s day were essentially an agricultural people, but since the time of Urukagina, agriculture had developed enormously, and the relationship of landlord to tenant, and of employer to labourer, was regulated and fixed by a number of legal enactments embodied in the code.

Ordinary arable land was let at a fixed rental, the rent being paid in corn, but the owner was entitled to a deposit, and non-payment of the rent was a legal debt. The code contains two special provisions, the effect of which must have been to make the tenant postpone the payment of his rent as long as possible. The one enacted that if the rent had not been paid, or if the land had been lent on the share-profit principle and the crops were destroyed by a storm, the damage done was shared either equally or proportionally by landlord and tenant. If on the other hand the rent had been already paid, the tenant could claim no compensation. The share-profit system was very common, and in such cases the landlord generally received a half or two-thirds of the crop. But the inequalities calculated to arise from such a system were obvious, for though it safeguarded the tenant to some extent, it left the landlord without remedy in the event of his tenant being an idler, and to provide for such a case a clause was inserted to the effect that the negligent small owner should pay an average rent “like his neighbours.” Often the landlord further secured himself by stipulating in the contract for the erection of a cottage on the land, or insisted on the tenant renting a cottage already built there, the cottage to be vacated on the termination of the lease.

The tenant was empowered to sub-let his ground, the principal landlord’s consent apparently not being necessary. The landlord was of course legally entitled to the rent agreed upon in the contract with his immediate tenant, but provided that was forthcoming, and the ground properly cultivated, he could raise no objection. Sometimes the landlord found the seed, the necessary tools, and also the oxen, and in addition paid a wage to the farmer; in this case the status of the tenant somewhat resembled that of a gardener in his cottage on an estate to-day. The seed, the oxen, and everything belonged to his master, and the penalty for any embezzlement of the same on the part of the tenant was the amputation of the latter’s hands. Again, if a tenant of this kind were a rogue, he might hire out the oxen, purloin the provender he had received from his master for the said oxen, and at the same time produce no crop: in this case he was liable to a heavy fine, and if he were insolvent, he was torn to pieces by the oxen on the field which he had neglected to cultivate.

The laws and regulations which applied to agricultural land-tenure, applied for the most part to the leasing of plantations and gardens as well. Thanks to the extraordinary fertility of Babylonian soil the owners of land became very wealthy; this notwithstanding, the money-lender was not without clients. Unforeseen disasters occurred, which crippled the landowner, and but for the money-lender he would not be able to tide over the trouble. As security for the loan he frequently mortgaged his land, but the code enacted that he should at all times reap the crop himself, and pay off the debt and the money-lender’s expenses from the produce. Moreover the money-lender was legally bound to accept such produce or corn in settlement of the debt, and could not insist on being paid in money, unless, as was frequently the case, he had stipulated in the contract that the loan was to be repaid in the same form as that in which it had been received. As a further safeguard for the unfortunate money-borrower it was made illegal to exercise distraint for rent or anything else upon a working ox. This was a humane law, for the watering of the ground, as well as the ploughing of the soil and the threshing of the wheat, was largely done by oxen.

The laws regulating the irrigation of the land were stringent owing to the disastrous consequences resulting from negligence on the part of any concerned. Once the canals had been made, it was the bounden duty of each landowner, whether small or great, to keep that part of the canal which passed by or through his land in good repair. If that part of the bank of the canal for which he was responsible gave way, and the water thereby flooded his neighbour’s land, he had to pay damages in full, and if he were insolvent he could be sold up. He was entitled to open a runnel to water his field, but if the water swamped the adjoining fields through some inadvertence or negligence on his part, he had to give full compensation.

The wages, presumably the minimum wage of the labourer, was fixed by law, as also was the hire-price of oxen and wagons. The hirer of animals was under a legal obligation to take proper care of them, and omission to do so involved a penalty. But if an accident occurred which the hirer could not be expected to foresee or prevent—such as an attack by a lion—the owner had to bear the loss. This was also the case if the person in charge of the animal was a shepherd or herdsman in the owner’s employ, the principle being the same in both cases. Wilful negligence was not to be condoned, but on the other hand, the consequence of unforeseen and unavoidable accidents was not to be visited upon either hirer or employee.

The larger half of the working population in Khammurabi’s time were probably engaged in agricultural pursuits while the remainder were occupied in trade or commerce. Now the expansion of trade depends upon the existence of an adequate means of transport, whereby exports can go out and imports come in. Before the invention and introduction of locomotives, water was the unrivalled medium for conveying large quantities of goods from one place to another, and even to-day with our interlacing networks of railways we still find use for the canals of primitive days. It was undoubtedly the two rivers, the Tigris and the Euphrates, that were accountable for the development of the trading faculty of the Babylonians, a faculty which ultimately made them the great commercial people of the Oriental world. We are accordingly not surprised to find that already, even in the time of Khammurabi, shipping was an important trade. A sure and certain indication of this fact is to be found in the number of laws directly concerning ship-builders and boatmen in the Code. The ship-builder, or rather the boat-builder,—for ships properly so-called were a very much later invention,—was absolutely responsible for his workmanship, and was required to give a year’s guarantee to the purchaser; if it proved faulty during that time he had to provide another. As in the case of the agricultural labourer,the hired boatman was responsible for the boat and cargo in his charge, and any negligence on his part was penal. If a ship collided with another ship riding at anchor, the colliding ship was liable for all damages.

Business was carried on largely by means of agents as it is with us to-day. The agent gave a receipt for the goods or money he received from his chief, and then went off to trade with them. The agent generally appears to have received an ordinary commission, which on his return he was expected to repay with a reasonable profit, the profit sometimes being a definitely fixed sum, at others, a prearranged share of the actual proceeds. As in our own day, some merchants were speculators, and all the uncertainty incidental to any kind of speculation seems to have surrounded the prospects of the agent, who doubtless at times scored well, while on other occasions he lost heavily. But any loss resulting from an untoward event which the agent could neither foresee nor prevent, had to be borne by the merchant. Thus if an agent were robbed in the course of his travels, he could clear himself from all liability in the matter by taking an oath to that effect. But this law might clearly lead to sharp practice on the part of a dishonest agent; and accordingly any false claims on his part had to be repaid threefold, but a false claim by a chief in regard to the goods entrusted to his agent had to be repaid sixfold. All business transactions had to be drawn up in writing to make them legal.

The obvious advantages of partnership were soon recognized by the commercially sagacious Babylonians, and business-partnerships were well known in the time of Khammurabi. In arriving at the dividends, the usual arrangement was for the partners to withdraw their capital and interest, and then receive equal shares of the superfluous profits. The dividends were made yearly and the withdrawal by each partner of his capital virtually dissolved the partnership, which could of course be renewed from time to time if desired.

As in all commercial enterprises, capital was the one essential, and the need of immediate cash was supplied by the money-lender. The rate of interest charged in Khammurabi’s time is not known, but the rate charged on loans of corn was often as much as forty per cent. Such loans were however generally in demand at seed-time, and if repaid at harvest, no interest seems to have been charged. A debtor could repay his loan either in the form of corn or sesame, and the value of each was fixed by law. If a debtor was insolvent, he could hand over a servant to his creditor to work off the debt which was due. The ownership of such a servant was, however, still vested in the debtor, and the servant was protected by law against maltreatment at the hand of the creditor. If he were a free man, the creditor had to restore him to his original master at the termination of three years, and the same rule applied if a wife or child of the debtor were the pledge or surety.

Distraint was not unknown, but it was the last expedient which the creditor was entitled to adopt after all other means had failed. Distraint on corn without the previous consent of the debtor was illegal, and illegal distraint ipso facto forfeited the right of any further claim on the part of the creditor, while the execution of a distraint where no claim had been substantiated was penal, and the theoretical creditor had to pay a fine. As before-mentioned no distraint could be levied on a working-ox, and indeed distraint of any kind could apparently only be issued subsequently to the consent of the debtor. In short, the interests of the humbler and poorer members of the community were safeguarded in every way possible. Not only were the small farmers protected, but even the working-classes received the attention of the legislators of Khammurabi’s time. Thus at harvest-time there was evidently a tendency to put up the price of beer, and accordingly a clause in the code enacts that drink was to be sold at a cheap rate in spite of the increased demand.

Again, everyone in the community is practically at the mercy of the housebuilder, and accordingly any damage caused by the use of faulty materials or bad workmanship, had to be made good by the builder. If the house collapsed and the owner was killed, the builder was put to death, while if the owner’s son or servant was killed, the son or servant of the builder was similarly put to death, in accordance with the primitive law of retaliation. House-tenure in the time of Khammurabi was generally on the repairing-lease system, the tenant being required to leave the house in the same condition in which he found it, while it was customary to pay rent half-yearly instead of quarterly, the rent being paid in advance.

The ultimate sanction and enforcement of these various laws concerning the relationship subsisting between capitalist and workman, owner and hirer, and landlord and tenant, was to be found in the courts. Strange to say, the chief scene of jurisdiction was the temple, the god himself adjudicating through the mediumship of his earthly plenipotentiaries. The precise form of legal procedure in the time of Khammurabi is not known, but certain facts in regard to the institution and conduct of suits have been elucidated.

One great difference between law-suits in the time of Khammurabi and those of our own day was that the cases were not apparently conducted by counsel, but by the parties themselves, an arrangement which must have considerably accrued to the advantage of the abler of the two suitors. The more important cases were heard by a bench of judges somewhat resembling our Court of Appeal, while the minor suits were heard by a single judge, as in our High Courts and County Courts. The plea had to be set down in writing in the form of an “affidavit”; whether the defendant was able to file a counter-affidavit does not seem quite clear. At the trial itself the plaintiff and defendant both summoned their witnesses, and the judgment was signed by both parties. Appeal to a higher court was the only remedy for the loser of the suit, the judge in the lower court not being allowed to hear the same case a second time under pain of being struck off the list, and at the same time mulcted for twelve times the amount of the fine he had previously ordered, or the damages he had assessed.

The date of the trial was fixed by the judge, but it had to be within six months of the filing of the affidavit. This time was allowed in order to enable the plaintiff to procure his witnesses in the event of their being absent from home. The appointment of the judges, or at least of some of them, was vested in the crown; whether they were paid or not is a matter of doubt. Sometimes judgeships were hereditary. But whether judges received fees or not they appear to have been regarded as professional men and retained their title even after they had ceased to exercise their judicial functions. The supreme judge was the king himself, to whom cases of primary importance were occasionally referred, while the principal officers of state often acted as judges.

The following crimes were capital offences, though the precise form in which the death sentence was to be carried out is not always quite clear:—a false accusation of witchcraft; perjury on the part of a witness in a capital case; burglary of a temple, palace, or private house; kidnapping a free-born child; highway robbery; theft of the goods of a man whose house is on fire; adultery; various forms of incest; rape of a betrothed maiden; persuading a slave to flee from his master, or being an accessory after the fact by harbouring him; various forms of theft and fraud; and building a house so badly that it collapsed and thereby killed the owner. The penalty of death appears to have been inflicted either by burning, impalement, dismemberment, or drowning.

Criminal offences of a less serious character were treated differently. Among the penalties enumerated in the code, mutilation, branding and scourging are the most barbarous. Mutilation was a punishment based logically on the “eye for an eye,” and “tooth for a tooth” principle, its application being primarily to those who had mutilated their neighbour. But its application was extended to cover other forms of crime or offences adjudged in those days as crimes, thus insolence on the part of an adopted child to his foster-parents was effectually stopped by the removal of the child’s tongue; while an adopted son who is unduly inquisitive into the origin of his birth has his eye plucked out; lastly—and what perhaps to us seems the most amazing of all—if a surgeon performed an operation and the patient died through any carelessness or lack of skill on his part, the surgeon’s hands were amputated—a law which must have considerably cooled the ardour of any of the surgeons of those days particularly addicted to the use of the knife. Branding was the outward and visible sign (usually imprinted on the arm) of degradation to slavery,—the punishment for slandering a votary or a married woman. Scourging was the penalty for striking a superior; the scourging was to be performed in public, the strokes numbering sixty, and the implement used a cow-hide whip; while banishment from the city was the very fitting and meet punishment for incest.

2. RELIGION

The one outstanding feature of the Babylonian religion of Khammurabi’s time was the unique position assigned to Marduk in the Babylonian pantheon. Marduk owed his exaltation to what we may without undue levity call local interest. The dynasty of which Khammurabi was so illustrious a monarch was the first dynasty of the city of Babylon itself; and Marduk the local god of Babylon naturally shared in the good fortune and prosperity of the people over whose welfare he presided. To Marduk belonged the real credit, honour and glory of his people’s success, what wonder then that he should be accorded the post of honour in the hierarchy of heaven! Other gods indeed existed, and received such attention as befitted their inferior position, but their light was as that of a planet compared with the dazzling radiance of the midday sun, while a monotheistic tendency sprang up, fostered by a desire to attribute to Marduk such marvellous performances as the creation of the world, performances which had hitherto been ascribed to the older gods of Southern Mesopotamia.

But reverence and respect for the traditions of a heroic past precluded the possibility of dishonouring the gods who had made that past so glorious, and the only way to satisfy the religious aspirations of Marduk’s devotees on the one hand, and maintain the loyalty due to the time-honoured gods of Babylonian infancy on the other, was to identify the latter with Marduk; had this process of identification been carried to its logical conclusion it would have resulted in the evolution of a monotheism as exclusive and as simple as the most dogmatic Unitarianism of to-day.

Fortunately or unfortunately such was not the case; the practical sequence of the tendency was realized in the identification of Marduk with the ancient god of Nippur, but apart from that, the tendency remained a tendency and nothing more. Notwithstanding this fact however, Marduk’s supremacy was so firmly established, and his position so impregnably secured, that the passing changes and chances of some two thousand years were unable to oust him from his high estate, and it is to Marduk that Cyrus, the vanquisher of Babylon’s last native king, and the fated heir to her evanescent empire, ascribes the triumphant victory which attended his arms. He recorded the acknowledgment of his obligations to the lord of E-sagil on a clay cylinder now preserved in the British Museum.

The inscription is written in cuneiform characters, and states that Marduk “sought out a righteous prince, a man after his own heart whom he might take by the hand, and he called his name Cyrus. And Marduk the great lord, the protector of his people, beheld his good deeds and his righteous heart with joy.” Thus 1500 years after the time of Khammurabi, the cult of Marduk was still intimately bound up with the prosperity of his people, and it was owing to the neglect of his worship and to the mal-preservation of his fanes that Nabonidus the last king of the Neo-Babylonian dynasty was unable to withstand the onslaughts of a foreign conqueror.

Although Marduk was thus the supreme god of Babylon, to whose shrine all true patriots were wont to resort, other gods were still the subjects of veneration, and it was still thought prudent to seek their favour and assistance. The sun continued to pursue the even tenor of his way, and after all, the sun is an important factor in the manifold operations of agriculture, it therefore behoves man to pay his respects to a god whose mere momentary absence behind a cloud of displeasure may bring about such momentous consequences. Among other deities worshipped at this time, mention should be made of Ishtar, the mother of the gods, and the goddess of love and war, Anu the lord of heaven, and Ea the god of the deep, of Sin the moon-god and the specific patron of the people of Ur, of Ninib the god of war, and Adad the weather deity.182

The great religious movement which characterized the establishment of the first dynasty of Babylon, naturally brought in its train all the paraphernalia required by and incidental to a highly-organized state religion. The priesthood became a power, and the temples commercial centres as well as seats of learning. The revenue of the temple was very large; its principal source seems to have been the endowments and royal bounties of the kings. As in earlier times, it owned a large number of cattle and sheep, and the administration of its property seems to have caused Khammurabi a considerable amount of anxiety. A great many priests and laymen were attached to the service of the temple, and the spiritual labourer of those days seems to have deserved an altogether exorbitant hire. It was clearly a most profitable concern, and the privilege of serving in the temple was a positive asset which could be bought, sold, or mortgaged. This valuable privilege which brought such pecuniary advantages with it, was, needless to say, very jealously guarded by the elect, who firmly adhered to the hereditary principle—then in full swing. These privileges were in fact inalienable and were transmitted from father to son.

The financial prosperity of the temple and its attachÉs is shown by their opening their doors for financial business pure and simple, money-lending in time becoming quite an important branch of the temple work. The loans however seem to have generally been free loans, no interest being exacted.

But the temple had its obligations to perform as well as its privileges to enjoy, one of the duties incumbent upon the temple authorities being the ransoming of a fellow townsman who had been taken prisoner by the enemy.

(C) THE ASSYRIAN ERA

1. STATE OF SOCIETY

In Assyrian times the same explicit or implicit regulations in regard to the family seem to have been in force, or tacitly agreed to, as those which obtained in the older Babylonian period. Apparently a man was only expected in the normal way to marry one woman, though it seems probable that in the event of the first wife proving childless it was regarded as quite justifiable and legitimate for a man to take to himself another woman, in view of the desirability of his having an heir.183 Accordingly monogamy seems to have been the general rule, though polygamy was by no means unknown. When a man married, he left his father and mother and was expected to “cleave” unto his wife, and they became “one flesh” and inhabited “one house”; in short, the Assyrian “home” was normally the same as the English “home” of to-day. As in the time of Khammurabi, women could be legal owners of property, and often owned farms and occupied vineyards.

The general pursuits of the people were much the same as those followed by the earlier inhabitants of Mesopotamia. The population was, as then, largely agricultural; the land required the same careful and elaborate irrigation while the ground had to be ploughed, the seed sown, and the harvest reaped as heretofore. A corn-land holding184 usually had a house attached to it, and also a court where the corn was stored, which thus served the purpose, if not resembling the appearance, of a barn. A large number of people were evidently employed in the vineyards, which must sometimes have been very extensive, for the number of plants in a single vineyard in one case was as many as 49,300, and it is a significant fact that the most celebrated wines in Babylonia came from the north, while it is also worth noting the frequency with which the vine occurs on Assyrian bas-reliefs. Orchards and gardens also abounded, though what grew in them is to some extent a matter of conjecture; if however we may assume that the list of plants mentioned in the Babylonian Garden Tablet published by Meissner, holds good also for the Assyrian garden, leek, onion, garlic, lettuce, coriander, hyssop, turnip, cabbage, and radish must have been familiar garden products.

Cattle and sheep were reared as in the old days, the latter both for their wool and also for food, while goats provided milk, as well as meat and hair, goat’s hair being used even to-day in the East for the coverings of tents. Oxen were used largely for working the irrigation machines, while asses also served as beasts of labour. The camel was not unknown, and is often named in connection with the sales of estates. The horse at this period was in common use, but was seemingly reserved for riding and driving.

The legal paraphernalia of Assyrian times was the natural development of the Babylonian law code of which it was the off-shoot. In the ownership of land the hereditary principle seems to have been the dominating factor, and probably farms and vineyards passed automatically from father to son in the same way as crown lands and larger estates. The peasant was still a serf, bought or sold with the land to which fate had attached him; he was not permitted to migrate elsewhere, but on the other hand he was under the protection of the state; he could not be ousted by invaders, and his living was a first charge on the estate. It is certain that estate-slaves were sometimes requisitioned for military or other state purposes, the owner being of course compelled to meet the demand, while the produce of his land was also subject to taxation. Some estates were however exempt from dues of this kind, the exemption doubtless being granted by the royal favour and confirmed by royal charter.

Among the smaller land-owners we find a number of farmers or vine-owners who have forsaken business or industrial pursuits, and have left the bakery and the scribe’s office to return to the soil.

The landlord frequently did not reside on his land, but let it out to tenants, whom he expected to pay rent in due season. The original ownership of land was no doubt largely if not entirely the gift of the king, while conquests would continually place fresh tracts of land in his hands. Probably some of the newly acquired property went to swell the extent of the crown lands, while the rest or part of the rest was distributed among the king’s ministers, generals and other court favourites.

2. RELIGION

The Assyrian religion was Babylonian both in origin and character. Anu, Bel, and Ea, Marduk, Nergal, Adad, Shamash and Sin, Nan and Ishtar were all held in esteem, and temples were erected in their honour. The supremacy of Assyria and the corresponding decline in Babylonian power scarcely affected the authority and influence of the time-honoured gods of the Babylonian pantheon. But the new political situation required some recognition in the religious life of the nation, and the exigencies of the present demanded some consideration, as well as the hallowed traditions of the past. These two conflicting interests had to be reconciled, and the reconciliation was effected and a way of escape devised similar to that adopted by the earlier Babylonians when confronted with a like dilemma. The local god of Ashur was exalted to the first place in the pantheon, and became as it were the Marduk of Assyria, though his position was even more unassailable than was that of Marduk in Babylon, for the latter185 was bound to acknowledge Ea as his father, whereas Ashur is above all ties of this kind; the Babylonian-Assyrian pantheon is recognized by him, but it in no way touches his lofty estate.

The cult of the god of Ashur goes back to the earliest known period of Assyrian civilization, while he gave his name to the first known capital of the country, and ultimately to the country itself. Ashur is the divine impersonation of Assyria, as Marduk was of Babylonia, only the identification was more pronounced, for the decline of Assyrian power and the death of her empire meant virtually the death of Ashur, whereas Marduk maintained his influence during the time of Babylon’s adversity as well as during that of her prosperity; foreign conquerors sought to do him honour, Cyrus the Persian ascribes his conquest of Babylon to the lord of E-sagil, and even Antiochus Soter (280-260 B.C.) restores his renowned temple. But another difference between the Ashur-cult of the north and the Marduk-cult of the south must also be noted. Ashur was worshipped in temples erected all over the Assyrian empire, whereas Babylon was the place “where men ought to worship” Marduk, just as in later times Jerusalem was the only authorized centre for the worship of Jehovah. But in spite of the universality of his presence, Ashur had a principal seat of worship, the locality of which was the same as that of the then centre and capital of the empire, Ashur, Calah, Nineveh or Khorsabad as the case might be.

The adaptability displayed by Ashur in regard to his earthly home may, as Jastrow suggests, be partly due to the fact that a statue was not the only, or even the principal symbol of his divine presence, as was the case with Marduk and the other great gods. His usual emblem was a standard consisting of a pole surrounded by a winged disc to which is attached an archer with drawn bow. It is impossible to say the exact time when a military standard came to be regarded as the natural and fitting symbol of the patron god of the country, but the nature of the symbol itself makes it quite clear that Ashur was regarded as a god of war. Indeed the patron deity of a people as warlike as the Assyrians, could not but reflect the military spirit of his people. The Assyrian warriors were the “troops of Ashur,” their enemies being his enemies and their friends his friends. Ashur’s spouse was B[=e]lit (==“the Lady”), but the same goddess sometimes appears as the consort of Bel186 and sometimes also as the wife of Ea, in the Assyrian inscriptions, while at other times again B[=e]lit is merely a designation of Ishtar. The last-named goddess occupies a very prominent place in the Assyrian pantheon, only coming second to Ashur himself. There were indeed no less than three Ishtars in Assyria—Ishtar of Nineveh, Ishtar of Arbela, and Ishtar of Kidmuru, but the Assyrians do not appear to have preserved any definite distinction between them, so that for all practical purposes we only have one goddess to consider in this connection.

It is hardly to be wondered at that Ishtar, the goddess of war as well as of love, should have been held in high reverence by the Assyrians, who not unnaturally accentuated her warlike attributes. But the Assyrians were not responsible for the origin of Ishtar’s warlike character; she had been regarded in this light at least as early as the time of Khammurabi,187 while her fighting spirit is strongly painted in the early Gilgamesh epic, but it remained for the Assyrians to develop this aspect of her character to the virtual exclusion of all other aspects. As the Assyrians extended their sway on every side, the power of Ishtar the B[=e]lit, or “lady” of battles, advanced also; she is the goddess of kings and people alike; in times of danger she vouchsafes her counsel and her timely words of encouragement to the king through the medium of dreams. She is “perfect in courage” and incomparable in splendour; her appearance is like unto flames of fire, and she rains streams of fire upon the enemies of Ashur-bani-pal. Unlike other goddesses she reigns in her own right, and not in virtue of her position as the spouse, counterpart, or reflection of any of the important gods. She is their equal in rank, power and dignity, while her very name becomes almost a synonym for “goddess,” and in later times all goddesses, whether native or foreign, came to be regarded as so many forms or manifestations of Ishtar.

But apart from the advancement to honour of the warlike deities of Babylonia, and the further development of the military character which they already bore, the Assyrian religion varies but little from that of the mother-country. The civilization and culture of the Assyrians was imported en bloc from Babylonia, and this wholesale appropriation of the manners and customs of the people of the south displays itself in Assyrian art, religion, law and architecture. Their temples and palaces were more or less faithful copies of those erected in Babylonia; their beliefs, rites and ceremonies were derived from the same source, while their literature shows hardly any originality at all. When Ashur-bani-pal resolved to collect a library in his royal palace at Nineveh he was obliged to dispatch his scribes to the south to make search in the archives of the ancient temples which contained the prayers and hymns addressed to the gods, the legends and epics of the remote past, the astronomical reports and medical formulÆ of the immediate present. A large part of Ashur-bani-pal’s library consisted in practically verbatim copies of these original texts, but the debt which we owe to Ashur-bani-pal’s bibliographical propensities must not be measured by the originality of the volumes of his library, but by the large contribution which they make to the Babylonian and Assyrian literature now at our disposal. In a great many cases the Babylonian originals have not been recovered, and we are entirely dependent on the copies of Ashur-bani-pal’s scribes, and but for this great king’s assiduity in this direction we should be in entire ignorance regarding the contents of a large part of the Babylono-Assyrian literature.

In all religions, whether ancient or modern, material representation forms the connecting link between the natural and the supernatural, the physical and the spiritual. The medium sometimes assumes the shape of an image of a naturally or unnaturally conceived deity, at other times it takes the form of an emblem, astronomical or otherwise, with which the god is associated. We have had abundant evidence of the prominent part played by images in the worship of the Babylonians and Assyrians, and it will perhaps not be unfitting to devote two or three pages to a brief consideration of some of the emblems of the deities to whom reference has been made.

The chief sources for the study of Assyrian and Babylonian symbolism are the cylinder-seals, the Babylonian Boundary-Stones, and the monoliths of Assyrian kings. In a brief review of Mesopotamian cylinder-seals we have had occasion to observe the frequent occurrence of emblems, many of which are also found on the monoliths of Assyrian kings, e.g. Sargon, Sennacherib and Esarhaddon. Among those of which the signification is certain we may mention the crescent, obviously emblematic of the Moon-god Sin, and the star of Ishtar, while the deity armed with thunderbolts is certainly Adad. The winged disc which occurs on a stele of Esarhaddon, as well as on other Assyrian monuments, is clearly symbolic of Ashur, though in earlier times it apparently emblematized Shamash, the Sun-god,188 and if this be the case we have a useful piece of evidence in support of the theory of a solar origin for Ashur.

Fig. 113.	Fig. 114.
Fig. 113.	Fig. 114.

But the Babylonian kudurrus or boundary-stones provide far more material for the study of Babylonian symbolism than do the Assyrian royal sculptures, for the emblems of the gods, as well as the gods themselves, were for the most part borrowed from Babylonia and adopted with variations by the people of the north. We have the emblems which are scattered about sporadically on the Babylonian cylinder-seals collected together in more or less large groups on the boundary stones. On one of these boundary stones (cf. Fig. 113) the name of the god with whom the emblem is associated is inscribed by the side, thus giving us definite data instead of hypothetical conjecture upon which to base our investigation. Unfortunately all the names inscribed on this kudurru are not legible, but among those which are certain, the following should be noted: Shamash the Sun-god who is represented by a circle within which are four rays of light alternating with four streams of water. Ishtar is represented by a star, and Sin the Moon-god by a crescent as usual. Ea is symbolized by a ram’s head on a column, the column being set on a rectangular throne beneath which lies the fish-tailed capricorn. Marduk is represented likewise by a column, the top of which however is shaped like a lance. Nergal, the god of the dead, is symbolized by a lion-headed column, while the seated goddess is Gula, who has been identified with Bau.

Another important monument in this connection is the rock-relief of Sennacherib near Bavian (cf. Fig. 114). The inscription mentions twelve gods, and the same number of emblems, presumably corresponding to the twelve gods, are sculptured on the rock. But the important point is that not only does the number of emblems portrayed tally with the number of gods mentioned, but there are definite indications that the order of sequence is the same in both cases.189 Thus the crescent which obviously symbolizes the moon-god occurs fifth, the same place occupied by Sin in the list of names. Again, the star, the undoubted emblem of Ishtar, similarly comes eleventh, the name of the goddess also being eleventh in the list. Lastly, the thunderbolt, which is the certain symbol of Adad, occupies the seventh place and corresponds with that occupied by the god in the inscription. These three coincidences can hardly be regarded as accidental, and it is reasonable to assign the remaining symbols to the corresponding gods in the list. Following out this method we can provisionally assign the emblems as follows: Ashur, Anu and Bel are represented by horned hats; Ea by a column with a ram’s head; Sin by a crescent; Shamash by a winged disc; Adad by a thunderbolt; Marduk by a column with a pine-apple termination; NabÛ by a simple column; Ninib (?) by a column surmounted by two lions’ (or two bulls’) heads; Ishtar by a star; and Igigi by seven dots.

Probably the finest specimen of a Babylonian stele of this character is that of Nebuchadnezzar I (circ. 1120 B.C.) (cf. Fig. 115). In the upper register we have the crescent, disc and star of Sin, Shamash and Ishtar respectively, the second register being occupied with a row of three emblems each consisting in a divine seat surmounted by a horned turban. The last-named seemingly represent Anu, Bel and either Ashur or Ea.190 Next in succession we appear to have the emblems of Marduk and Nebo, while in the fourth register we have the double-headed column of Ninib, a horse’s head resting on a seat and surmounted by a vaulted arch, (this is Fig. 115. Fig. 115. of particular interest, as according to Ward, it is probably the earliest representation of the horse in Babylonian art); an eagle on the top of a column, and another column surmounted by a hawk’s head and representing Zamama. In the fifth register is the goddess Gula seated on a throne and accompanied by a dog; a scorpion-man or Sagittarius; while last of all we have the thunderbolt of Adad over a calf, a tortoise which is possibly an alternative emblem for Ea,191 a scorpion, and the lamp of Nusku, the god of fire. Finally the whole of one side of this remarkable stele is traversed by a gigantic serpent. Other monuments exhibit different varieties of the same emblems, while among those not included here, are the club, the arrow, the sparrow and plough, the sheaf, the vase, the bull, the goose, the man-fish, the dove, the rod and ring (cf. Pl. XIV), and the coiffure and knife of the goddess Ninkharshag, for a full and exhaustive study of which the reader should refer to Ward, Cylinder-Seals, pp. 389 ff. Of the burial customs of the Babylonians and Assyrians, so far as they are known, we have treated elsewhere (cf. pp. 62, 69, etc.), but it will perhaps not be superfluous for us to briefly consider their eschatology.

(E) BABYLONIAN ESCHATOLOGY

Man’s ideas and thoughts are very largely determined by his environment, so too his beliefs regarding the next world have as their material basis and setting the world in which he now lives; the unknown but vaguely guessed at, can only be defined, or rather depicted in terms of the known, the unseen in terms of the seen, heaven in the terms of earth, God in the terms of Man—in short, the doctrine of the Incarnation underlies all religion and all religious systems. As we have already seen, the early Babylonians in all probability came from the mountainous country of Elam, for they used the same picture-sign or ideogram for both “mountain” and “country”; the earth was therefore conceived by them under the form of a mountain, and if this world be shaped like a mountain, the world beyond must also doubtless bear a similar shape, hence one of their names for the other world was E-kur, which signifies “mountain-house,” the same name being also applied to the present world. In the early days of Babylonian mythology, the gods themselves were believed to inhabit E-kur, the mountain-house of the world, and it is perhaps not unnatural to find the gods so intimately associated with mother-earth, when one recalls that the Babylonians believed the gods themselves to have been evolved from the same watery chaos from which the earth as it were emerged—the gods and the earth were children of the same parent, and were brought into being in the same way.

But this mountain-theory with regard to the other world in no way excluded or apparently even collided with other views of quite a different character; indeed the most popular conception of the next world, as the realm of the dead, was that of a hollow, or cave situated underneath the earth, which was believed to be shaped somewhat after the fashion of an inverted saucer: this cave was called “Aralu,” and was poetically described as “ir?itum la tarat”—“the land without return”—a description which is strangely negative, and which illustrates how little the Babylonian concerned himself with the life after death compared with the Egyptian, who may with some truth be said to have devoted his attention more to the life beyond than to the life which now is. The locality of Aralu under the earth may also be inferred from the story of Ishtar’s descent into Hades; this practically universal conception is so natural a one that it hardly calls for an explanation. The association of the realm of the dead with the grave beneath the earth where the remains of the dead were deposited—is almost inevitable, and the corresponding association of the abode of the gods, or heaven with the regions of light and brightness above this earth—the ever-visible sun and moon being gods themselves—is equally natural, but in passing, it must be remarked that in the system—for lack of a better word—which set the abode of the gods in the regions of the sky, the heaven which they inhabited was not accessible to mortal man, be he ever so good or virtuous; it was apparently only in earlier times when the home of the gods was located in or on the earth that the souls of the departed are regarded as dwelling with or near them.

This is further corroborated by the application of the term E-kur—“mountain-house”—to the earth itself as well as to the abode of the gods and the realm of the dead, while at the same time it was used to designate the earthly abodes or temples of the gods; the theory which located the home of the gods upon the E-kur is probably the earlier, and it was only in later times, when Babylon had made herself more or less supreme in the Euphrates valley, and had thereby gained for her god Marduk a similar supremacy, that the circumstances seemed to demand, as it were, a more universal and less local home for the god whose sway thus extended all over the country; if Marduk confines himself to his temple-home in Babylon, how can he watch over the fortunes and receive the homage of his devotees all over the empire?

Moreover, as has been already stated, on grounds independent of this the temptation to assign a heavenly or sky-home to the gods has been yielded to almost universally; this view of course did not exclude the possibility of the god’s presence in the temples erected to his honour, it only excluded the idea of his exclusive presence in the temple.

But there were yet other names besides Aralu and E-kur, used to designate the abode of the dead, one of which was “Shualu”; this term signifies “enquiry” and comes from the same root as that from which the proper name “Saul” (“asked for”) is derived, itself being the equivalent of the Hebrew “Sheol” which the Greeks rendered “Hades,” and English translators unfortunately rendered “hell”; the world of the dead is accordingly regarded as a place of enquiry, the enquiry being presumably of the nature of an oracle. The dead are thus supposed to be endowed with the power of answering questions addressed to them by people on earth; and in this capacity they resemble the gods, the only difference being that the gods grant oracles through the hands of their priests, while the dead use necromancers as their mediums, as was the case when Samuel manifested himself to Saul through the agency of the necromancing witch of Endor. Thus in connection with the E-kur home of the gods and of the dead, it will be observed that the dead are not only regarded as with, or near the gods, but, like the gods they are also empowered to assist earthly mortals with their oracular utterances; this presupposes that the dead are endowed with a greater knowledge than the living, and accordingly however gloomy Aralu, Shualu or E-kur (as the home of the dead) may be, the dead are at all events drawn nearer to the gods in this respect, and partake more freely of the Tree of Knowledge than the living.

Having arrived thus far, the deification of the dead is but a short step, which the Babylonian found no great difficulty in taking; as however the deification of the departed was the exception rather than the rule, the exceptional cases of such deification must have had a special raison d’Être of their own, and that raison d’Être was probably the power of granting oracles which the Babylonian attributed to those highly-favoured individuals, whose heroic achievements on earth had won for them the greatest honour accorded to mankind in antiquity. The kings indeed were often deified after death and even during their lifetime, but that was the natural corollary of the belief that the next world is similar in order and in its mode of government to this world, albeit it was much more gloomy and also of a comparatively negative character.

But though the dead are thus regarded as more akin to the gods than the living, and more the objects of their special care, yet their very affinity to the gods seems to place them more beyond the power and control of the latter, and the priests whose delegated divine authority is paramount over the living, have no right of influence whatever over the dead.

Another name for the under-world was “Ki-gallu” which signifies “great land,” “Ki” being the regular ideogram for “earth” generally, or “land” specifically, the two being to the early oriental mind practically synonymous; this term, like E-kur, thus associates the abode of the dead with the abode of the living, the abode of the living being on the earth, and the abode of the dead being under or within the earth. Other epithets applied to the under-world were—“the dark dwelling,” “the house of death,” “the grave,” “the great city,” “the deep land,” and the above-mentioned “ir?itum la tarat,” “the land whence there is no return,” the latter occurring in the well-known story of Ishtar’s descent into Hades, where the nether-world is further described as a house of darkness in which the dead, clothed in feathers like birds, depend upon dust and clay for their nourishment. This account of the world beyond the grave tallies well with the account given by Ea-bani, when called up from the realms of the dead to speak to his friend Gilgamesh; Ea-bani shrinks from paining his friend by describing the horrors of the under-world, but is at last prevailed upon to do so, and his description of Hades is that of “a place where the worm devours and all is cloaked in dust”—“Dust thou art, and unto dust shalt thou return.” The idea of the dead being clothed with feathers like birds recalls the characteristically Mesopotamian monsters of composite form, half-bird and half-man, themselves apparently connected directly or indirectly with the nether-world.

It was believed however that the pitiable lot of the dead could be to some extent mitigated by acts of devotion and charity practised by those that remain; thus it was of primary importance to the deceased that he should receive a respectable and decent burial, and furthermore his needs did not stop there, for in E-kur—whether the term be applied to the earth as the home of mortals, or to the land of the dead, man requires both food and drink for his sustenance. The condition of the hapless man who receives no burial and is provided with none of the necessaries of life in the next world is described at the close of the Gilgamesh Epic, where we are informed that such an one is consumed by gnawing hunger and has perforce to satisfy his appetite with the offal on the streets; but not only was the unburied shade a curse to himself so to speak, he also became a curse to the living by assuming the form of an “ekimmu” or demon, possessed with malignant intentions towards mankind, and furthermore endowed with the regrettable power of carrying those intentions into good effect; it therefore behoved the living to attend to the requirements of the dead from the point of view of self-defence quite apart from any considerations of pious charity.

There was no distinction made between the faithful and unfaithful departed in the halls of Aralu, the only difference there was, lay between the lot of those who received the rites of burial and the means of sustenance at the hands of their surviving friends and relatives, and the lot of those to whom were denied the last rites and offices; it should however be observed that the future life of those who perished on the battle-field was believed to be fraught with greater happiness, or at least less unhappiness than that of the generality of mankind.

Thus to the Babylonian the sting of death was very far from being removed, and their funeral dirges consisted chiefly in lamentations on account of the pitiful plight of the departed one rather than for their own personal loss; for them there was no swallowing up of Death in Victory, the only possibility of future bliss lying in immunity from death, an immunity which had only been offered to one or two mortals, and of which only one had apparently succeeded in availing himself, that single exception being ?it-napishtim whose exaltation to the godhead apparently exonerated him from the necessity of dying. The prevailing note was thus one of pessimism, a pessimism from which “the dwellers in Mesopotamia” have never succeeded in entirely emancipating themselves, a pessimism which is moreover discernible in the sacred writings of the Hebrews long after their emigration from Babylonia to the land of Canaan. To Job the lot of a tree is preferable to that of humanity, for “it hath hope, if it be cut down, it will sprout again; but man lieth down and riseth not; till the heavens be no more, they shall not awake nor be raised out of their sleep”; so too the Psalmist begs that he may be allowed to recover his strength—“before I go hence and be no more,” the general inference being that to the Hebrew mind the life beyond the grave resembled bare existence rather than a life with positive activities and positive functions to perform.

The tendency to regard the unknown with suspicion and doubt is incidental to the laws of our nature, and history demonstrates that only a courageous buoyancy won through the ceaseless efforts of mankind to combat the Mother who bore them, can overcome this as all other tendencies inherent in human nature. To the peoples of antiquity the world beyond was unknown and dark, for primitive man perforce regards as dark a state of existence concerning which he is in the dark, just as he has invariably attributed the causes of physical phenomena outside his ken to the powers of darkness, but the very darkness of the other world so far from diminishing the reality of its existence in his primitive mind, seems to have contrariwise, intensified it; he regarded the unseen through the medium of a mental telescope—to him it loomed dark but big; seeing was by no means the necessary condition of his believing, he believed where he did not see, and his imagination proved quite adequate to the occasion. In the twentieth century on the other hand there is an inclination to regard the unknown as ipso facto non-existent, but it must be confessed that the tendency exhibited by early man to accredit the unknown with an even greater reality than the known, accords more closely with the archetypal idealism of Plato and others whose mental development is at least of no mean order, and whose theories have not as yet stood convicted at the bar of Logic.