Morris Jastrow

A strong element of magic, we have seen, was always present in the hymns and prayers of the Babylonians, and even in such as contained religious sentiments of an elevated and pure character. The finest prayer has almost invariably tacked on to it an incantation, or constitutes in itself an incantation. Accompanying the prayer were offerings to the deity addressed, or certain symbolical rites, or both, and the efficacy of the prayer was supposed to reside partly in the accompanying acts and partly in the mystic power of the words of the prayer as such. In large measure this indissoluble association of prayer and incantation is due to the circumstance that both Babylonians and Assyrians addressed their deities only when something was desired of the latter,—the warding off of some evil or the expectation of some favor. Even in the penitential psalms, that merit the term 'sublime,' the penitent pours out his soul at the shrine of grace in order to be released from some misfortune that has come over him or that is impending. Mere praise of the gods without any ulterior motive finds no place in the Babylonian or Assyrian ritual. The closest approach to this religious attitude may perhaps be seen in the prayers attached by the kings to their commemorative or dedicatory inscriptions. One feels that the rulers are impelled to do this from a certain sense of love and devotion to their protecting deities. Nebuchadnezzar's prayers form a conspicuous example of the strength which pure love and attachment to the gods acquired in Babylonia; but even in these specimens, a request of some kind—usually for long life and prosperity—is made. The spiritualization of the Babylonian religion has in this way most definite limitations imposed upon it. There is a point beyond which it could not go without giving rise to a totally changed conception of the gods and their relationship to men. Prayer in its higher form, as the result of an irresistible prompting of the emotions, without any other purpose than the longing to come into closer communion with a superior Power, involves such a change in religious conceptions, and hence is conspicuous in the Babylonian ritual by its absence.

A request of some kind being thus the motive that lies behind the Babylonian prayers, it follows that the means taken to ascertain the will or intention of the gods with regard to that request formed an essential feature of the ritual. Indeed, to ascertain the will of a deity constituted one of the most important functions of the priest—perhaps the most important function. The prayer was of no use unless it was answered, and the priest alone could tell whether the answer was afforded. The efforts of the priest were accordingly directed towards this end—the prognostication of the future. What was the intention of the deity? Would the hoped-for deliverance from evil be realized? Would the demon of disease leave the body? Would the symbolical acts, burning of effigies, loosening of knots, and the like, have the desired effect? Upon the success of the priest in performing this function of prognostication everything depended, both for himself and for the petitioner.

The natural and indeed necessary complement to the priest as exorciser is the priest as the forecaster of the future. Since no one, not even the king, could approach a deity directly, the mediation of the priest was needed on every occasion of a religious import. The ordinary means at the disposal of the priest for ascertaining the divine will or caprice were twofold,—directly through oracles or indirectly by means of omens derived from an examination of the sacrifices offered. A complete Babylonian ritual therefore required, besides the appeal made by the petitioner through the priests or with their assistance, an incantation introduced in some form, an offering, certain symbolical acts and omens. The offerings and the symbolical acts, as a matter of fact, appear to have preceded[491] the prayer and the incantation, but in the prayers they are referred to again, and generally just before the interpretation of the omens. The omens constituted the ulterior end in view. Because of the looked-for omens the offering was brought, the symbolical acts performed, the incantations recited. All these rites formed the preparation for the grand finale. The worshipper waited anxiously for the decision of the priest. Attached, therefore, to the prayers we frequently find directions intended for the priests as to the signs to which his attention should be directed, certain peculiarities exhibited in parts of the animal sacrificed from which certain conclusions may be drawn. The observation of these signs grows to the dimensions of a science equal in extent to the observation of the heavenly bodies whose movements, as indeed the whole of the natural world, were supposed to exert an influence over the fate of mankind.

It does not of course follow that in the case of every prayer an elaborate ritual was observed. Many of the prayers to the gods in their present form do not embody omens, as indeed many contain no reference to offerings or symbolical acts. While no conclusion can be drawn from this circumstance, since the omission may be due to the point of view from which in a given case a collection of prayers was made by the priest, still we may well believe that for the exorcising of evil spirits the utterance of sacred formulas was often considered quite sufficient. In the earlier stages of the Babylonian religion the priest's function may have ended when he had exorcised the demons by means of magic words. The demons were forced to yield. If they nevertheless held out, so much the worse for them or—for the priest, who, it was concluded, must have lost his power over the spirits through some error committed by him. The resort to omens has wider aspects, as will presently be shown, than the connection with prayers and offerings, and a most reasonable view is that omens were first introduced into prayers on occasions when a worshipper wished to ascertain the will of a deity for a certain purpose, and to regulate his own conduct accordingly. In petitioning the deity a sacrifice was naturally offered. Through the sacrifice, which was rendered acceptable to the deity by the mediation of the priest, the desired answer to a question was obtained. From being resorted to in such instances, omens would naturally come to form part of the ritual for almost any occasion when a deity was appealed to, both in connection with incantations and symbolical acts when the omens would form a supplement to the magic element in the ritual, as well as in cases where no specific incantations are introduced. In both cases the omens would constitute the means resorted to for ascertaining whether the petitioner might look for a favorable reply to a request proffered or, in a more general way, find out anything that it may be important for him to know. The occasions for consulting the deity would be of a public or private character. How far it became customary for the general public to secure the mediation of a priest for securing aid from the gods in matters appertaining to personal welfare we have no means of definitely determining. We find, for example, a son consulting an oracle on behalf of his father in order to ascertain what day would be favorable for undertaking some building operation,[492] and he receives the answer that the fourth of the month will be propitious; and so there are other occasions on which private individuals consult the priests, but in general it was only on occasions of real distress that an individual would come to the sanctuary,—to seek relief from bodily ills, to ward off blows of adversity, to pacify a deity who has manifested his or her displeasure. The expense involved—for the worshipper was not to appear empty-handed—would of itself act as a deterrent against too frequent visits to a sanctuary.

The public welfare occupied a much larger share in the Babylonian worship. In order to ensure the safety of the state, occasions constantly arose when the deities had to be consulted. It is no accident that so many of the prayers—the hymns and psalms—contain references to kings and to events that transpired during their reigns. In these references the occasions for the prayers are to be sought. Remarkable as is the expression which the consciousness of individual guilt finds in the religious literature of Babylonia, the anger of the deity against his land is much more prominently dwelt upon than the manifestation of his wrath towards an individual. It could not be otherwise, since the welfare of the state conditioned to so large an extent the happiness of the individual. The startling phenomena of nature, such as an eclipse, a flood, a storm, while affecting individuals were not aimed directly at them, but at the country viewed as the domain of a certain god or of certain gods. Blighted crops, famine, and pestilence had likewise a public as well as a private aspect. On all such occasions the rulers would proceed to the sanctuaries in order, with the assistance of the priests, to pacify the angered god. It was not sufficient at such times to pronounce sacred formulas, to make fervent appeals, but some assurances had to be given that the words and the symbolical acts would have the desired effect. Omens were sought for from the animals offered. There were other occasions besides those stated, when for the sake of the public welfare oracles were sought at the sanctuaries. If a public improvement was to be undertaken, such as the building of a palace, or of a temple, of a canal, or a dam, it was of the utmost importance to know whether the enterprise was acceptable to the deity. A day had to be carefully chosen for laying the foundations, when the god would be favorably disposed towards his subjects,—the kings under whose auspices such work was carried on. Similar precautions had to be taken to select a favorable day for the dedication. This again was determined by means of omens either derived from offerings or in some other way. The Babylonians and Assyrians believed, as did the Jews upon their return from the Babylonian exile, that 'unless the lord assists, the builders work in vain.' When we come to military campaigns where the individual disappears altogether in the presence of the majestic figure of the state, the will and disposition of the gods had to be consulted at every step,—regarding the plans of the enemy, at the enemy's approach, before the battle, in the midst of the fray, and at its termination.

The frequency with which the gods were approached in the interests of the state and the public weal, plied with questions upon which the fate of the land depended, is shown by the stereotyped form which such official solicitations in the course of time acquired. Dating from the reigns of Esarhaddon and Ashurbanabal we have an elaborate series of prayers addressed to the sun-god, all dealing with questions of a political import. These prayers, so admirably edited and analyzed by Knudtzon,[493] are all arranged according to a single pattern. Each one opens with a question or series of questions which Shamash, the sun-god, is asked to answer. The god is then implored not to be angry, but to lend his aid against any errors unwittingly committed in the sacrificial rites. For a second time the same question is put in a somewhat varying form. Another appeal is made, and the various omens derived from the inspection of animals are interpreted as a guide to the priests. According to the application of these omens to the sacrifice before the priest, a decision is rendered. It will be sufficient for our purposes to present a single specimen of such a fixed ritual.[494] Esarhaddon, being hard pressed by a group of nations to the northeast of Assyria, led by a certain Kashtariti, and among whose followers the Gimirrites, the Medes, and Manneans are the most prominent, asks for an oracle from Shamash as to the outcome of the situation. The priest, acting as mediator, addresses[495] the god:

O Shamash! great lord! As I ask thee, do thou in true mercy answer me.

From this day, the 3d day of this month of Iyar[496] to the 11th day of the month of Ab[497] of this year, a period of one hundred days and one hundred nights is the proscribed term for the priestly activity.[498]

Will within this period, Kashtariti, together with his soldiery, will the army of the Gimirrites, the army of the Medes, will the army of the Manneans, or will any enemy whatsoever succeed in carrying out their plan, whether by strategy (?) or by main force, whether by the force of weapons of war and fight or by the ax, whether by a breach made with machines of war and battering rams[499] or by hunger, whether by the power residing in the name of a god or goddess,[500] whether in a friendly way or by friendly grace,[501] or by any strategic device, will these aforementioned, as many as are required to take a city, actually capture the city Kishassu, penetrate into the interior of that same city Kishassu, will their hands lay hold of that same city Kishassu, so that it falls into their power? Thy great divine power knows it.[502]

The capture of that same city, Kishassu, through any enemy whatsoever, within the specified period, is it definitely ordained by thy great and divine will, O Shamash! Will it actually come to pass?[503]

It will be observed that, much as in a legal document, all contingencies are enumerated. In other prayers, still more are mentioned. A definite answer is required, and care is taken not to leave any loophole open by means of which the deity may escape from the obligation imposed upon him to manifest his intention. Shamash might answer that the city will not be captured, with the mental reservation that it will surrender, or he might throw Esarhaddon off his guard by announcing that "not by might nor by strength" will the city be taken, and the king may be surprised some morning to learn that the catastrophe has been brought about through the power residing in the 'word.' These precautions were taken, not so much because it was supposed that the gods and priests were tricky, but because all conditions had to be carefully fulfilled in order to ensure an answer, and, if at all possible, of course a favorable answer. To the same end, great care had to be taken that in the preparation of the offering which accompanied the prayer no mistake should be made. The sacrificial animal—in the case before us a lamb—had to be guarded against all imperfections, impurities, and contaminations. The priest had to be careful to put on the proper dress, to speak the proper words, and to be himself free from any ritualistic impurity. Before proceeding to the inspection of the animal, in order to forecast the future, the priest had to take care that nothing might happen to interfere with the proper observation of the rites. This section of the prayer is characterized by the word "ezib" repeated at the beginning of every line, and which conveys the appeal that what follows may be precluded from happening.[504] The priest first prays to Shamash:

Preclude that after the specified period [the catastrophe may not come to pass],

Preclude whatever they [i.e., the enemies] may plan may not be carried out (?),

Preclude them from making a slaughter and from plundering....

Whether the decision of this day be good or bad, ward off a stormy day with pouring rain.

This last phrase, which is somewhat obscure, seems to be a request made in the contingency of an unfavorable omen being received. The sun-god is asked, at all events, not to hide his countenance under clouds and rain on the decisive day of battle. Coming after these preliminary requests to the sacrifice, the priest continues:

Prevent anything unclean from defiling the place of inspection,[505]

Prevent the lamb of thy divinity, which is to be inspected, from being imperfect and unfit.

Guard him who takes hold of the body of the lamb, who is clothed in the proper sacrificial dress, from having eaten, drunk, or handled anything unclean.

Make his hand firm (?), guard the seer, thy servant, from speaking a word hastily.[506]

The priest thereupon repeats his question to the sun-god:

I ask thee, O Shamash! great lord! whether from the 3d day of this month of Iyar, up to the 11th day of the month of Ab of this year, Kashtariti, with his soldiers, whether the Gimirrites, the Manneans, the Medes, or whether any enemy whatsoever will take the said city, Kishassu, enter that said city, Kishassu, seize said city, Kishassu, with their hands, obtain it in their power.

The various terms used in describing the taking of a city are once more specified, so as to fulfill all the demands of definiteness in the question.

The priest is now ready to proceed with an examination of the animal before him. A varying list of omens are introduced into the prayers under consideration. That they are so introduced is a proof of the official character of these texts. The omens were not, of course, intended to be recited. They are enumerated as a guide to the priests. The various signs that may be looked for are noted, and according to what the priest finds he renders his decision. Knudtzon has made the observation[507] that in the prayers published by him, the signs found on the animal are noted but not interpreted. This rather curious omission is again naturally accounted for on the assumption that these prayers in their present form are part of a ritual compiled solely for the benefit of priests attached to a Shamash sanctuary. Full directions were not required. All that the priest needed was to know what to look for. For the rest, he depended upon tradition or his own knowledge or judgment. The omens themselves, or rather the signs, refer to the condition in which certain parts of the animal are found or to peculiarities in the composition of the animal.

The priest is instructed to observe whether 'at the nape on the left side' there is a slit; whether 'at the bottom on the left side of the bladder' some peculiarity[508] is found or whether it is normal; whether 'the nape to the right side' is sunk and split or whether the viscera are sound. The proportions, too, in the size of the various parts of the body appear to have been of moment; and in this way, a large number of points are given to which the priest is to direct his attention. From a combination of all peculiarities and signs in a given instance, he divines the disposition of the god addressed, whether it is favorable or not. The whole ceremony is brought to a close by another appeal to the god to send an answer to the question put to him. The priest prays:

By virtue of this sacrificial lamb, arise and grant true mercy, favorable conditions of the parts of the animal, a declaration favorable and beneficial be ordained by thy great divinity. Grant that this may come to pass. To thy great divinity, O Shamash! great lord! may it[509] be pleasing,[510] and may an oracle be sent in answer!

In some of the prayers a second series of omen indications are given. What the oracle announced we are, of course, not told. The ritual is not concerned with results.

From the analysis just given it will be seen that the consultation of a deity was often entailed with much ceremony. No doubt the priests did all in their power to add to the solemnity of such an occasion. The kings on their side showed their lavishness in furnishing victims for the sacrifice. Again and again does Esarhaddon solicit Shamash to reveal the outcome of the military campaigns in which the king was engaged. The same individual, Kashtariti, and the Gimirrites, Medes, etc., are mentioned in many other prayers prepared in the course of the campaign; and elsewhere other campaigns are introduced. What Esarhaddon did, no doubt his successors also did, as he himself followed the example set by his predecessors. We are justified, then, in concluding that a regular 'oracle and omen ritual' was developed in Babylonia and Assyria—how early it is of course impossible to say. There is every reason to believe that in some form such a ritual existed in Babylonia before the rise of Assyria, but it is also evident that in a military empire like Assyria, there would be more frequent occasion for securing oracles than in Babylonia. The ritual may therefore have been carried to a greater degree of perfection in the north. The Assyrian conquerors, if we may judge from examples, were fond of asking for an oracle at every turn in the political situation. The king intends to send an official to a foreign land, but he is uncertain as to the wisdom of his decision. Accordingly, he puts the case before the god. If this decision is taken, he asks, Will the envoy carry out the orders of the king?

Thy great divinity knows it.

Is it commanded and ordained by thy great divinity,

O Shamash? Is it to come to pass?[511]

In a similar way, questions are asked with reference to the course of a campaign. Will the Assyrian king encounter the king of Ethiopia, and will the latter give battle? Will the king return alive from the campaign? is a question frequently asked. Even for their quasi-private affairs, the kings sought for an oracle. Before giving his daughter in marriage to a foreign potentate, Esarhaddon desires to know whether the one seeking this favor, Bartatua, the king of Ishkuza,[512]

is to be trusted, will he fulfill his promises, will he observe the decrees of Esarhaddon, the king of Assyria, and execute them in good faith?

Again, when the king is about to associate his son with himself in the government, he first inquires whether this is agreeable to the deity.[513] The king fears lest his son may cause trouble, may provoke dissensions. Past experience prompts him to be careful before following his inclination.

Is the entrance of Siniddinabal, the son of Esarhaddon, the king of Assyria, whose name is written on this tablet, into the government in accord with the command of thy great divinity? Is it to come to pass?

The reference to the writing of the name is interesting. It would appear that the question is actually written by the priest and placed before the deity. The Greeks similarly put their questions to the Delphian oracle in writing. May it be that among the Babylonians the answer of the god was at times also handed down on a tablet, as the Greek and Roman oracles were communicated in writing on the leaves of a tree?

If sickness entered the royal house, an oracle was likewise sought. The king is sick. Is it ordained that he will recover? We are told in one case that[514]

NikÂ, the mother of Esarhaddon, the king of Assyria, is sick. She sees the hand of the goddess Nan of Uruk laid heavily upon her.... Is it ordained that this hand will be lifted off from the sufferer?

The occasions, it is evident, were exceedingly numerous when the Assyrian rulers appealed to the priests for oracles. Naturally, this appeal was not in all cases made with the elaborate formality illustrated by Esarhaddon's petitions to Shamash. At times the monarch, as the individual, would content himself with sending to the priest for an answer to a question, and the priest would reply in an equally simple and direct manner. Quite a number of such messages, sent by priests to their master, are included in the valuable publication of 'Assyrian Letters,' begun by Professor R. F. Harper.[515] The king's son wishes to set out on a journey. The father sends to the astrologers Balasi and Nabu-akheirba, and receives the reply:[516]

As for Ashur-mukinpalea, about whom the king, our lord, has sent to us, may Ashur, Bel, Nabu, Sin, Shamash, and Ramman bless him. May the king, our lord, witness his welfare (?). Conditions are favorable for the journey. The second day is favorable, the fourth day very favorable.

Similarly, the astrologers send reports regarding the appearance and position of the moon and the stars, and of various phenomena that had to be taken into account in moments where decisive action had to be taken.

Before leaving the subject, it may be of interest to point out that among the literary remains of the Assyrian period there are "blank formulas" for oracles, the names in each instance to be filled out by the officiating priest. Such formulas were prepared, no doubt, for cases of common occurrence. Thus Esarhaddon, before appointing a person to a responsible position, took the precaution of ascertaining from some deity whether the appointment was a wise one. The name of the individual being written down, the priest asks the deity in a general way:[517]

Will the man whose name appears on this tablet, and whom he [the king] is about to appoint to such and such a position, keep good faith, or will he manifest hostility towards the king, inciting to rebellion?

Esarhaddon may have had a special reason for using precautions against his officials, and even his sons. He came to the throne during a rebellion which involved the assassination of his father. Esarhaddon's own brothers were the murderers. We may well suppose that he trembled at every step he took, but his position is after all characteristic of the Assyrian rulers in general, many of whom came to the throne by violence and maintained themselves through force.

Other texts enable us to study the form of the oracles themselves. As yet, no oracle texts have been found belonging to the older Babylonian period, but we have again every reason to believe that what holds good for the days of Assyrian power applies to a much earlier period, though at the same time the greater frequency with which Assyrian rulers were wont to ply their gods with questions would increase the number of those whose special business it was to pronounce the oracles. The manifold duties of the priesthood would tend towards a differentiation of the priests into various classes. The priest, as exorciser, would become distinct from the priest as the inspector of omens; and the latter different again from the pronouncer of oracles. From the fact that Marduk was regarded as the special god of oracles by the Assyrians as well as the Babylonians,[518] we may conclude that this differentiation of the priestly classes took place already in the south, or at all events that oracle-giving as a distinct priestly function was recognized in Babylonia and carried over to the northern empire. If we may draw a general conclusion from the state of affairs in Esarhaddon's days, this function was largely in the hands of women. We know from other evidence that women were attached to the temple service from ancient times.[519] As sorceresses, too, they occupied a quasi-priestly position, since their help could be invoked in driving evil spirits into the person of one's enemy. The oracle-giver and the sorcerer or sorceress are correlated personages in religion. For various reasons—in part, perhaps, because of her physical differences from man—woman was invested with a certain mystery by ancient nations.[520] Hence the fact that among so many nations witchcraft is associated with woman, and similarly among many nations women perform the functions of the oracle. In a series of eight oracles addressed to Esarhaddon,[521] six are given forth by women. These oracles, it so happens, all issue from the goddess Ishtar of Arbela. The cult of this goddess at Arbela stood in high favor in the eighth century B.C. An influential body of priests congregated there, and the eight oracles in question appear to be a part of a more extensive collection made by the theologians of Arbela, of whose intellectual activity there are other traces. Arbela appears to have developed a special school of theology, marked by the attempt to accord a superior position to the great goddess Ishtar. The one who pronounces the oracle speaks on behalf of Ishtar, and therefore employs the first person. The oracles all have reference to political events. They cannot, of course, be the answers to the questions asked in the prayers analyzed above, since these were addressed to the sun-god; but we may feel certain that the oracles of the Shamash priests or priestesses were much of the same order, varying only in minor particulars. The goddess invariably encourages the king. The priest, it would appear, hears the voice of the deity in the wind.

Fear not! The wind which speaks to thee—

Comes with speech from me, withholding nothing.[522]

Thine enemies, like the ... of Siwan,[523]

At thy feet will be poured out.

The great mistress am I.

I am Ishtar of Arbela, who forces thine enemies to submission.

Is there any utterance of mine that I addressed to thee upon which thou couldst not rely?

I am Ishtar of Arbela.

Thine enemies, the Ukkites (?), I give to thee, even I, Ishtar of Arbela.

In front and behind thee I march.

Fear not!

This oracle, we are told in the subscript, was pronounced by a certain Ishtar-la-tashiat, a son [i.e., a native] of Arbela. The dignity of the diction is very marked. The very frequent assurance 'fear not' and the solemn repetition of 'I am Ishtar' lend impressiveness to the message. The oracle, it will be seen, deals in general phrases. This indefiniteness characterizes most of them; and the more impressive the diction, the greater vagueness in the statements made. So an oracle, coming from Ishtar and Nabu and uttered by a woman Baya, a native of Arbela, announces:

Fear not, Esarhaddon,

I, the lord, to thee do I speak.

The beams of thy heart I strengthen as thy mother,[524]

Who gave thee life.

Sixty great gods are with me[525]

Drawn up to protect thee.

The god Sin is on thy right, Shamash on thy left.

Sixty great gods are round about thee

Drawn up in battle array in the center of the citadel.

On men do not rely.

Lift up thine eyes to me. Look up to me!

I am Ishtar of Arbela.

Ashur is gracious to thee.

Thy weakness I will change to strength (?).

Fear not! glorify me!

Is not the enemy subdued

Who has been handed over to thee?

I proclaim it aloud,

What has been will be.[526]

I am Nabu, the lord of the willing tablet,

Glorify me.

A message of this kind could hardly have been satisfactory except as a general encouragement.

The popularity of the Nabu cult in Assyria, it will be recalled, is an offset against the supremacy of Marduk in the south. The Assyrian kings found it to their interest to incorporate as much of the Babylonian cult as was possible into their own religious ritual. To Shamash they assigned the rÔle played by Marduk. There was no danger in paying homage to Nabu, the son of Marduk. Ishtar they regarded as their own goddess quite as much as Ashur. These four deities, therefore, Ishtar, Shamash, Nabu, and Ashur, are the special gods of oracles recognized by the Assyrian rulers. Marduk, who is the chief source of oracles in the south, is more rarely appealed to in the north, though of course recognized as powerful. He could not be expected to regard with favor an empire that so seriously threatened his supremacy in the pantheon.

The occasion when an oracle was announced was often one of great solemnity. Just as the prayers in which the questions of the kings were embodied were carefully written out, so that the priest in reciting them might not commit any mistakes, so the answer to the prayers were transmitted to the king in writing. Among the oracles of the days of Esarhaddon, there is one coming from Ashur in which the ceremonies accompanying the deliverance are instanced.[527] The oracle deals with the Gimirrites, the same people in regard to whom Esarhaddon so often consults the sun-god. It is marked by the more definite character of its announcements when compared with others. The text is in the form of a communication made to the king, and, like other official documents, it begins with a salutation. The gods give Esarhaddon greeting.[528]

Ashur has given him the four ends of the earth.

In the house where he shines and is great,[529] the king has no rival.

Like the rising sun he shines.

This is the greeting from Bel Tarbasi[530] and the assembled gods.

The god Ashur himself now addresses the king:

As for those enemies that plot against thee, that force thee to march out,

Thou didst open thy mouth [saying], "Verily I implore Ashur."

I have heard thy cry.

Out of the great gate of heaven I proclaim aloud,

'Surely I will hasten to let fire devour them.Thou shall stand among them.

In front of thee I shall rise up.[531]

Up onto the mountain I bring them.

There to rain down upon them destructive stones.

Thine enemies I hew down,

With their blood I fill the river.

Let them behold and glorify me,

For Ashur, the lord of gods, am I.'

This important and striking message, coming direct from Ashur we are told, is to be formally presented and read in the presence of the king. Instructions are added to the priests to pour out a libation of precious oil. Sacrifices of animals and waving of incense are to accompany the presentation.

The oracle, as the god's answer to the king's questions, thus gave rise to a ritual as elaborate as the rites connected with the preparations for the answer. The oracles were not always trustworthy, as we can well believe, and often they were not definite enough. If we may judge from an expression in one of the divine messages to Esarhaddon, the king appears to have entered a complaint against a former oracle, which was not to his liking. Ishtar accordingly sends the following message:[532]

The former word which I spoke to thee,

On it thou didst not rely.

Now, then, in the later one you may have confidence.

Glorify me!

Clearly, the Assyrian kings believed that the oracles existed to announce what they wanted to hear. They probably did not hesitate to follow their own judgment whenever they considered it superior to the advice given to them by the gods. There would, of course, be no difficulty in accounting for failures brought about through obedience to the oracles. The priests, hemmed in on every side by minute ceremonial observances, forfeited their power as mediators by the slightest failure in the observance of these rites. An error or a mishap would entail most serious consequences. A misleading oracle, therefore, and to a certain extent, unfavorable omens, would be the fault of the priests. The deity would send 'a lying message'[533] or bring about unfavorable omens as a sign of his or her displeasure. On the other hand, the priests in turn would not hesitate—speaking of course in the name of the gods—to accuse the kings of neglecting Ishtar or Nabu or Shamash, as the case may be. In an oracle addressed to Esarhaddon,[534] Ishtar of Arbela is represented as complaining that the king has done nothing for her, although she has done so much for him. Such a state of affairs cannot go on.

Since they do nothing for me,

I will not give anything to thee.

The king promptly responds by copious offerings, and the goddess appears to be pacified.

There is another feature connected with the oracles that must be touched upon before passing on. The oracles stand obviously in close relationship to the penitential psalms. It was, naturally, in times of political distress that the kings would be particularly zealous in maintaining themselves on good terms with the powerful gods. Without their aid success could not be expected to crown any efforts. Guiding their steps by frequent consultations of the priests, the appeals of the kings would increase in earnestness and fervor as the campaign progressed and assumed more serious aspects. When disaster stared them in the face, they would be forced to conclude that the gods were angered, and there was only one way left of averting the divine wrath—a free confession of sins, accompanied, of course, by offerings and magic rites. The Assyrian kings do not tell us in their annals of discomfitures that they encountered. The penitential psalms supply this omission. We have such a psalm written in the days of Ashurbanabal,[535] in which that proud monarch humbles himself before the great god Nabu, and has the satisfaction in return of receiving a reassuring oracle. He prays:

I confess to thee, Nabu, in the presence of the great gods,

[Many[536] (?)] are my sins beyond endurance?[537]

[Lord (?)] of Nineveh, I come before thee, the warrior among the gods, his brothers.

[Prolong (?)] the life of Ashurbanabal for a long period.

... At the feet of Nabu I prostrate myself.

The god reassures the king:

I will grant thee life, O Ashurbanabal, even I,

Nabu, to the end of days

Thy feet shall not grow weary, nor thy hands weak (?),

These lips of thine shall not cease to approach me,

Thy tongue shall not be removed from thy lips,

For I give thee a favorable message.

I will raise thy head, I will increase thy glory in the temple of E-babbara.[538]

The reference to the temple of Shamash at Sippar reveals the situation. Babylonia was the cause of much trouble to Ashurbanabal, owing chiefly to the intrigues of his treacherous brother Shamash-shumukin.[539] Ashurbanabal at one time was not merely in danger of losing control over the south, but of losing his life in the rebellion organized by his 'faithless brother.' A successful rebellion is a clear sign of a god's displeasure. Marduk, as we have seen, was not often appealed to by the Assyrian kings, but Nabu seemed always ready to help them. Hence the king confesses his sins and makes an appeal to the great Babylonian god and not to Ashur. He is encouraged by the promise that his life will be spared, and that his supremacy will be recognized in Babylonia. The great sanctuary of Sippar is here employed figuratively for the temples of Babylonia in general. To be glorified in that famous temple was equivalent to a recognition of royal authority.

That these oracles served a practical purpose is definitely proved by the manner in which they are introduced by the kings in their annals. Ashurbanabal tells us that in the course of one of his campaigns against Elam, he addressed a fervent prayer to Ishtar of Arbela, and in reply the message comes, as in the texts we have been considering, "Fear not"; and she adds, "Thy hands raised towards me, and thy eyes filled with tears, I look upon with favor."[540]

Dreams.

It is, of course, not necessary to assume that the oracles of the gods were always delivered in the same formal manner, accompanied by elaborate ceremonies. The gods at times reveal themselves in a more direct manner to their favorites. In visions of the night they appear to encourage the Assyrian army by an oracle. On one occasion, when the army of Ashurbanabal approached a rushing stream which they were afraid to cross, Ishtar makes her appearance at night, and declares, "I walk in front of Ashurbanabal, the king who is the creation of my hands."[541] The army, thus reassured, crosses the river in safety. On another occasion, Ashurbanabal, when threatened by the king of Elam, receives a message from Ishtar revealed to a seer in a dream at night. The seer—no doubt a priest—reports to the king:[542] 'Ishtar, dwelling in Arbela, came with quivers hung on her right and left side, with a bow in her hand, and girded (?) with a pointed, unsheathed sword. Before thee [i.e., the king] she stood, and like the mother that bore thee.[543] Ishtar, supreme among the gods, addressed thee, commanding: "Be encouraged[544] for the fray. Wherever thou art, I am."'

In connection with the importance that the Babylonians and Assyrians, in common with all ancient nations, attached to dreams, divine messages thus revealed had a special significance fully on a par with the oracles that were formally delivered with an accompaniment of elaborate rites. A god appearing to one in a dream was a manifestation, the force of which could not be disputed. It mattered little to whom the dream was sent. Ashur, on one occasion, chose to reveal himself to an enemy of Ashurbanabal with a message. He appears in a dream before Gyges, the king of Lydia, and tells him,[545] "Pay homage to Ashurbanabal, the king of Assyria, and by the power of his name conquer thine enemies." Gyges obeys and sends a messenger to the Assyrian monarch to inform him of the dream. Occasionally in this way a deity might appear to a king, but in general it was to the professional 'dreamer' rather than to the laity to whom oracles were thus sent. The message was not necessarily delivered in person by the deity. Sin, the moon-god, on one occasion writes his message on the moon's disc:

Against all who have evil designs

And hostile sentiments towards

Ashurbanabal, the king of Assyria,

Will I send a miserable death.[546]

Every dream was of course sent by some god, but the dreams of others than those who acted as mediators between the gods and men were of a different character. They were omens. The gods would reveal themselves indirectly by means of pictures or symbols, and it would require the services of a priest again to interpret such symbols or omens. The gods were asked to send such dreams as might receive a favorable interpretation,[547] and when a dream came unsolicited, the gods were implored to convert the dream into a favorable omen.

In the case of dreams, it will be apparent, the dividing line between oracles proper and omens becomes exceedingly faint and it is very doubtful whether the Babylonians or Assyrians recognized any essential difference between the two. The suggestion has already been thrown out that there is a wider aspect to omens in the Babylonian religion than their employment in connection with sacrificial offerings. We have reached a point when it will be proper to take up this wider aspect.

FOOTNOTES:

[491] See King, Babylonian Magic, p. xxx.

[492] Harper's Assyrian Letters, no. 219.

[493] Assyrische Gebete an den Sonnengott fÜr Staat und KÖnigliches Haus (Leipzig, 1893, 2 vols.).

[494] Knudtzon, no. 1.

[495] That the priest recites the prayer and not the king is shown by the frequent introduction of the king's name in the 3d person. See, e.g., Knudtzon, nos. 40-47.

[496] 2d month.

[497] 5th month.

[498] I.e., the priest is only asked for an oracle regarding the events of the next one hundred days.

[499] Various machines are mentioned. The precise meaning of the technical terms employed is not known.

[500] By invoking the assistance of the gods.

[501] Peacefully, by mutual agreement and the promise of favors.

[502] One is reminded of the Arabic phrase "Allah alone knows it," so frequently introduced in Mohammedan writings.

[503] Lit., 'Seen will it be seen, heard will it be heard?' The emphatic construction is identical with the one frequently employed in Biblical Hebrew.

[504] Knudtzon (p. 25) did not grasp the negative force of ezib. The word is a request that something might not happen.

[505] Where the animal is to be inspected, probably the altar itself.

[506] In the Jewish ritual and many others, stress is laid upon pronouncing the words of a prayer clearly and deliberately, especially such words as have a particularly sacred value.

[507] Assyrische Gebete, p. 50.

[508] Exactly of what nature cannot be ascertained. The text (Knudtzon, no. 29, rev. 15) is defective at this point.

[509] The prayer or the lamb.

[510] Lit., 'proceed.'

[511] Knudtzon, no. 66. Other examples are furnished in George Smith's History of Ashurbanabal, pp. 184, 185.

[512] A district to the northeast of Assyria; Knudtzon, no. 29.

[513] Ib. no. 107.

[514] Ib. no. 101.

[515] Four volumes comprising several hundred letters have already appeared under the title, Assyrian Letters of the K. Collection (London, 1896). For a good summary of the character of the Assyrian epistolary literature, see Johnston's article in the Journal of the American Oriental Society, xviii. 1, pp. 125-134.

[516] Harper, no. 77.

[517] E.g., Knudtzon, no. 124.

[518] Zimmern, Busspsalmen, p. 32. The popularity of the sun-cult in Assyria in connection with omens and oracles is probably due also in part to the influence of Marduk, who was, as we have seen, a solar deity.

[519] Lehman, Samassumukin, p. 42.

[520] See Ploss, Das Weib, pp. 594-606; also above, p. 267.

[521] IVR. pl. 61.

[522] I.e., Ishtar sends the wind with a clear message.

[523] 3d month.

[524] Perhaps a proverbial phrase, having the force of 'I nurture thee as thy own mother did.'

[525] Constituting the host of Ishtar, which is elsewhere referred to, e.g., IVR. 2d Ed. pt. 61, col. i. 27.

[526] Lit., 'the future or later things like the former.'

[527] Published by S. A. Strong, BeitrÄge zur Assyriologie, ii. 627-33.

[528] The opening lines, containing a reference to the Gimirrites, are imperfectly preserved.

[529] I.e., he is the greatest scion of the reigning dynasty.

[530] 'Lord of the court'—a title of Ashur.

[531] As a protection, just as Jahwe appears in a pillar of cloud to protect his people.

[532] IVR. 2d Ed. 61, col. vi. 47-52.

[533] See I Kings, xxii. 23.

[534] Strong, BeitrÄge zur Assyriologie, ii. 628, 629.

[535] Published and translated by S. A. Strong, Transactions of the Ninth International Oriental Congress (1893), ii. 199-208.

[536] Supplied from the context, through comparison with similar compositions.

[537] Lit., 'my soul cannot overcome.'

[538] The composition continues in this strain, Ashurbanabal and Nabu speaking alternately.

[539] See Tiele, Babyl.-Assyr. Geschichte, pp. 371 seq.

[540] George Smith, Annals of Ashurbanabal, p. 121.

[541] Rassam Cylinder, VR. col. v. ll. 95-103.

[542] George Smith, Annals of Ashurbanabal, pp. 119-121.

[543] With maternal kindness.

[544] Lit., 'look up.'

[545] Rassam Cylinder, col ii. ll. 98 seq.

[546] Ib. col. iii. ll. 122-124.

[547] E.g., IVR. 59, no. 2, 21b.

rly phenomenon brought home to the minds of the Babylonians, a picture of primaeval chaos.

In the schools of theology that arose with the advance of culture, these two notions—water as the first element and a general conception of chaos—were worked out with the result that Apsu and TiÂmat became mythical beings whose dominion preceded that of the gods. Further than this the questionings of the schoolmen did not go. They conceived of a time when neither the upper firmament nor the dry land existed and when the gods were not yet placed in control, but they could not conceive of a time when there was 'nothing' at all. This cosmological theory which we may deduce from the fragment of the first tablet of the creation series is confirmed by the accounts that have come down to us—chiefly through Damascius—of the treatment of the subject by Berosus.[695] Damascius explicitly places the Babylonians among those nations who fail to carry back the universe to an ultimate single source. There is nothing earlier than the two beings—Apsu and TiÂmat.[696]

The massing together of the primaeval waters completes the picture of chaos in the cuneiform account. From the popular side, the commingling corresponds to the TÔhÛ wa BÔhÛ of the Book of Genesis, but for the Babylonian theologians, this embrace of Apsu and TiÂmat becomes a symbol of 'sexual' union.[697] As the outcome of this union, the gods are produced. This dependence of the gods upon Apsu and TiÂmat is but vaguely indicated. Another theory appears to have existed according to which the gods were contemporaneous with primaeval chaos. The vagueness may therefore be the result of a compromise between conflicting schools of thought. However this may be, the moment that the gods appear, a conflict ensues between them and Apsu-TiÂmat. This conflict represents the evolution from chaos to order. But before taking up this phase of the epic, a few words must be said as to the names of the gods mentioned, and as to the order in which they occur.

There are three classes of deities enumerated. The first two classes consist, each, of a pair of deities while the third is the well-known triad of the old Babylonian theology. Between the creation of each class a long period elapses—a circumstance that may be regarded as an evidence of the originally independent character of each class. Now it has recently been shown[698] that Lakhamu is the feminine of Lakhmu. The first class of deities is, therefore, an illustration again of the conventional male and female principles introduced into the current theology. While there are references to Lakhmu and Lakhamu in the religious texts,[699] particularly in incantations, these two deities play no part whatsoever in the active pantheon, as revealed by the historical texts. In popular tradition,[700] Lakhmu survived as a name of a mythical monster.

Alexander Polyhistor[701] quotes Berosus as saying in his book on Babylonia that the first result of the mixture of water and chaos—i.e., of Apsu and TiÂmat—was the production of monsters partly human, partly bestial. The winged bulls and lions that guarded the approaches to temples and palaces are illustrations of this old notion, and it is to this class of mythical beings that Lakhmu belongs. The schools of theology, seizing hold of this popular tradition, add again to Lakhmu a female mate and convert the tradition into a symbol of the first step in the evolution of order out of the original chaos. Lakhmu and Lakhamu are made to stand for an entire class of beings that are the offspring of Apsu and TiÂmat. This class does not differ essentially from Apsu and TiÂmat, nor from the 'Leviathan,' the 'Dragon,' the winged serpents, and the winged bulls that are all emanations of the same order of ideas. Accordingly, we find Lakhmu and Lakhamu associated with TiÂmat when the conflict with the gods begins. They are products of chaos and yet at the same time contemporary with chaos,—monsters not so fierce as TiÂmat, but withal monsters who had to be subdued before the planets and the stars, vegetation and man could appear.

The introduction of Anshar and Kishar as intermediate between the monsters and the triad of gods appears to be due entirely to the attempt at theological systematization that clearly stamps the creation epic as the conscious work of schoolmen, though shaped, as must always be borne in mind, out of the material furnished by popular tradition. In connection with the etymology and original form of the chief of the Assyrian pantheon,[702] the suggestion was made that the introduction of Anshar into the creation epic is a concession made to the prominence that Ashur acquired in the north. We are now able to put this suggestion in a more definite form. The pantheon of the north, as we have seen, was derived from the south. Not that all the gods of the south are worshipped in the north, but those that are worshipped in the north are also found in the south, and originate there. The distinctive features of Ashur are due to the political conditions that were developed in Assyria, but the unfolding of the conceptions connected with this god which make him the characteristic deity of Assyria, indeed, the only distinctive Assyrian figure in the Assyrian pantheon, does not preclude the possibility, of the southern origin of Ashur.

If, as has been made plausible by Hommel, Nineveh, the later capital of the Assyrian empire, represents a settlement made by inhabitants of a Nineveh situated in the south, there is no reason why a southern deity bearing the name Anshar should not have been transferred from the south to the north. The attempt has been made[703] to explain the change from Anshar to Ashur. The later name Ashur, because of its ominous character, effectually effaced the earlier one in popular thought. The introduction of the older form Anshar, not merely in the first tablet of the creation series, but, as we shall presently see, elsewhere, confirms the view of a southern origin for Ashur, and also points to the great antiquity of the Anshar-Ashur cult. It is not uncommon to find colonies more conservative in matters of religious thought and custom than the motherland, and there is nothing improbable in the interesting conclusion thus reached that Ashur, the head of an empire, so much later in point of time than Babylonia, should turn out to be an older deity than the chief personage in the Babylonian pantheon after the days of Hammurabi.

But while Anshar-Ashur under this view is a figure surviving from an ancient period, he is transformed by association with a complementary deity Kishar into a symbol, just as we have found to be the case with Lakhmu. By a play upon his name, resting upon an arbitrary division of Anshar into An and Shar, the deity becomes the 'one that embraces all that is above.' The element An is the same that we have in Anu, and is the 'ideographic'[704] form for 'high' and 'heaven.' Shar signifies 'totality' and has some connection with a well-known Babylonian word for 'king.' The natural consort to an all-embracing upper power is a power that 'embraces all that is below'; and since Ki is the ideographic form for 'earth,' it is evident that Ki-Shar is a creation of the theologians, introduced in order to supply Anshar with an appropriate associate. The two in combination represent a pair like Lakhmu and Lakhamu. As the latter pair embrace the world of monsters, so Anshar and Kishar stand in the theological system for the older order of gods, a class of deities antecedent to the series of which Anu, Bel, and Ea are the representatives. Besides the antiquity of Anshar and the factor involved in the play upon the name, the prominence of the Ashur cult in the north also entered into play (as already suggested) in securing for Anshar-Ashur, a place in the systematized cosmology. The Babylonian priests, while always emphasizing the predominance of Marduk, could not entirely resist the influences that came to them from the north. Ashur was not accorded a place in the Babylonian cult, but he could not be ignored altogether. Moreover, Assyria had her priests and schools, and we are permitted to see in the introduction of Anshar in the creation epic, a concession that reflects the influence, no doubt indirect, and in part perhaps unconscious, but for all that, the decided influence of the north over the south. The part played by Anshar in the most important episode of the creation epic will be found to further strengthen this view.[705]

Kishar, at all events, forms no part of either the Babylonian or of the active Assyrian pantheon. She does not occur in historical or religious texts. Her existence is purely theoretical—a creation of the schools without any warrant in popular tradition, so far as we can see. A tablet is fortunately preserved[706] (though only in part) which enables us to come a step nearer towards determining the character of the series of powers regarded as antecedent to the well-known deities. In this tablet, no less than ten pairs of deities are enumerated that are expressly noted as 'Father-mother of Anu,' that is, as antecedent to Anu.[707] Among these we find Anshar and Kishar, and by their side, such pairs as Anshar-gal, i.e., 'great totality of what is on high,' and Kishar-gal, i.e., 'great totality of what is below,' Enshar and Ninshar, i.e., 'lord' and 'mistress,' respectively, of 'all there is,' Du'ar and Da'ur, forms of a stem which may signify 'perpetuity,' Alala, i.e., 'strength,' and a consort Belili. Lakhmu and Lakhamu are also found in the list. While some of the names are quite obscure, and the composition of the list is due to the scholastic spirit emanating from the schools of theology, the fact that some of the deities, as Alala, Belili, Lakhmu and Lakhamu, occur in incantations shows that the theologians were guided in part by dimmed traditions of some deities that were worshipped prior to the ones whose cult became prominent in historic times. Anshar, Alala, Belili, Lakhmu, and Du'ar were such deities. To each of these an associate was given, in accord with the established doctrine of 'duality' that characterizes the more advanced of the ancient Semitic cults in general. Others, like Anshar-gal and Enshar, seem to be pure abstractions—perhaps only 'variants' of Anshar, and the number ten may have some mystical significance that escapes us. So much, at all events, seems certain that even the old Babylonian pantheon, as revealed by the oldest historical texts, represents a comparatively advanced stage of the religion when some still older gods had already yielded to others and a system was already in part produced which left out of consideration these older deities. This is indicated by the occurrence of the triad Anu, Bel, and Ea as early as the days of Gudea,[708] and it is this triad which in the creation epic follows upon the older series symbolized by Anshar and Kishar. The later 'theology' found a solution of the problem by assuming four series of deities represented by Apsu and TiÂmat, by Lakhmu and Lakhamu, by Anshar and Kishar, and by the triad Anu, Bel, and Ea.

In a vague way, as we have seen, Apsu and TiÂmat are the progenitors of Lakhmu and Lakhamu. The priority, again, of Lakhmu and Lakhamu, as well as of Anshar and Kishar, is expressed by making them 'ancestors' of Anu, Bel and Ea. While in the list above referred to, Lakhmu and Lakhamu are put in a class with Anshar and Kishar, in the creation epic they form a separate class, and Delitzsch has justly recognized,[709] in this separation, the intention of the compilers to emphasize an advance in the evolution of chaos to order, which is the keynote of the Babylonian cosmology. Lakhmu and Lakhamu represent the 'monster' world where creatures are produced in strange confusion, whereas Anshar and Kishar indicate a division of the universe into two distinct and sharply defined parts. The splitting of 'chaos' is the first step towards its final disappearance.

The creation of Anshar and Kishar marks indeed the beginning of a severe conquest which ends in the overthrow of TiÂmat, and while in the present form of the epic, the contest is not decided before Anu, Bel, and Ea and the chief deities of the historic pantheon are created, one can see traces of an earlier form of the tradition in which Anshar—perhaps with some associates—is the chief figure in the strife.

Of the first tablet, we have two further fragments supplementing one another, in which the beginnings of this terrible conflict are described. With Apsu and TiÂmat there are associated a variety of monsters who prepare themselves for the fray. The existence of these associates shows that the 'epic' does not aim to account for the real origin of things, but only for the origin of the order of the universe. At the beginning there was chaos, but 'chaos,' so far from representing emptiness (as came to be the case under a monotheistic conception of the universe) was on the contrary marked by a superabundant fullness.

Through Alexander Polyhistor,[710] as already mentioned, we obtain a satisfactory description of this period of chaos as furnished by Berosus. At the time when all was darkness and water, there flourished strange monsters, human beings with wings, beings with two heads, male and female, hybrid formations, half-man, half-animal, with horns of rams and horses' hoofs, bulls with human faces, dogs with fourfold bodies ending in fish tails, horses with heads of dogs, and various other monstrosities.

This account of Berosus is now confirmed by the cuneiform records. The associates of TiÂmat are described in a manner that leaves no doubt as to their being the monsters referred to. We are told that

Ummu-Khubur,[711] the creator of everything, added

Strong warriors, creating great serpents,

Sharp of tooth, merciless in attack.

With poison in place of blood, she filled their bodies.

Furious vipers she clothed with terror,

Fitted them out with awful splendor, made them high of stature(?)

That their countenance might inspire terror and arouse horror,Their bodies inflated, their attack irresistible.

She set up basilisks (?) great serpents and monsters[712]

A great monster, a mad dog, a scorpion-man

A raging monster, a fish-man, a great bull,

Carrying merciless weapons, not dreading battle.

In all, eleven monstrous beings are created by TiÂmat for the great conquest. At their head she places a being Kingu, whom she raises to the dignity of a consort.

The formal installation of Kingu is described as follows:

She raised Kingu among them to be their chief.

To march at the head of the forces, to lead the assembly.

To command the weapons to strike, to give the orders for the fray.

To be the first in war, supreme in triumph.

She ordained him and clothed him with authority (?).

TiÂmat then addresses Kingu directly:

Through my word to thee, I have made thee the greatest among the gods.

The rule over all the gods I have placed in thy hand.

The greatest shalt thou be, thou, my consort, my only one.

TiÂmat thereupon

Gives him the tablets of fate, hangs them on his breast, and dismisses him.

'Thy command be invincible, thy order authoritative.'[713]

The plan of procedure, it would appear, is the result of a council of war held by Apsu and TiÂmat, who feel themselves powerless to carry on the contest by themselves. The portion of the tablet[714] in which this council is recounted is in so bad a condition that but little can be made out of it. Associated with Apsu and TiÂmat in council, is a being Mummu, and since Damascius expressly notes on the direct authority of Berosus that Apsu and TiÂmat produced a son Moumis,[715] there is every reason to believe that Mummu represents this offspring. In the subsequent narrative, however, neither Apsu nor Mummu play any part. TiÂmat has transferred to Kingu and the eleven monsters all authority, and it is only after they are defeated that TiÂmat—but TiÂmat alone—enters the fray.

The rage of TiÂmat is directed against Anshar, Kishar, and their offspring. Anu, Bel, and Ea, while standing at the head of the latter, are not the only gods introduced. When the contest begins, all the great gods and also the minor ones are in existence.

The cause of TiÂmat's rage is indicated, though vaguely, in the portions preserved. In the opening lines of the epic there is a reference to the time 'when fates were not yet decided.' The decision of fates is in the Babylonian theology one of the chief functions of the gods. It constitutes the mainspring of their power. To decide fates is practically to control the arrangement of the universe—to establish order. It is this function which arouses the natural opposition of TiÂmat and her brood, for TiÂmat feels that once the gods are in control, her sway must come to an end. On the part of the gods there is great terror. They are anxious to conciliate TiÂmat and are not actuated by any motives of rivalry. Order is not aggressive. It is chaos which manifests opposition to 'order.' In the second tablet of the series, Anshar sends his son Anu with a message to TiÂmat:

Go and step before TiÂmat.

May her liver be pacified, her heart softened.

Anu obeys, but at the sight of TiÂmat's awful visage takes flight. It is unfortunate that the second tablet is so badly preserved. We are dependent largely upon conjecture for what follows the failure of Anu's mission. From references in subsequent tablets, it seems certain that Anshar sends out Ea as a second messenger and that Ea also fails. TiÂmat is determined upon destroying the gods, or at least upon keeping from them the 'decision of fates.' Anshar, it will be seen, stands at the head of the pantheon, and it seems natural that he, and not one of his offspring, should be the final victor. This indeed appears to have been the original form of the myth or at least one form of it. In a second form it was Bel to whom the victory was ascribed, and this Bel of the triad, we have seen, was En-lil, the chief god of Nippur; but both Anshar and Bel must give way to the patron deity of the city of Babylon—Marduk. Anshar-Ashur, the head of the Assyrian pantheon, could not be tolerated by the Babylonian priests as a power superior to Marduk. On the other hand, Anshar could not be set aside, for he survived in popular tradition. The result is a compromise. Marduk gains the victory over TiÂmat, but is commissioned to do so by the assembly of the gods, including Anshar. As for the older Bel, he voluntarily transfers to Marduk his name. In this way, the god Bel of the triad becomes one with Marduk.

Perhaps in one religious center and at a time when Ea was the chief god, still another version existed which assigned the triumph to Ea, for as will be pointed out, traditions waver between assigning to Ea or to Bel-Marduk so fundamental a function as the creation of mankind. In short, the present form of the creation epic is 'eclectic' and embodies what the Germans call a tendenz. To each of the great gods, Anshar, Anu, Bel, and Ea, some part in the contest is assigned, but the greatest rÔle belongs to Marduk.

The second tablet closes with Anshar's decision to send his son Marduk against TiÂmat:

Marduk heard the word of his father.

His heart rejoiced and to his father he spoke.

With joyous heart he is ready to proceed to the contest, but he at once makes good his claim to supreme control in case he is victorious. He addresses the assembled gods:

When I shall have become your avenger,

Binding TiÂmat and saving your life,

Then come in a body,

In Ubshu-kenna,[716] let yourselves down joyfully,

My authority instead of yours will assume control,

Unchangeable shall be whatever I do,

Irrevocable and irresistible, be the command of my lips.

The declaration foreshadows the result.

The third tablet is taken up with the preliminaries for the great contest, and is interesting chiefly because of the insight it affords us into Babylonian methods of literary composition. Anshar sends Gaga[717] to the hostile camp with the formal announcement of Marduk's readiness to take up the cause of the gods. Gaga does not face TiÂmat directly, but leaves the message with Lakhmu and Lakhamu:

Go Gaga, messenger (?) joy of my liver,

To Lakhmu and Lakhamu I will send thee.

The message proper begins as follows:

Anshar your son has sent me,

The desire of his heart he has entrusted to me.

TiÂmat, our mother is full of hate towards us,

With all her might she is bitterly enraged.

The eleven associates that TiÂmat has ranged on her side are again enumerated, together with the appointment of Kingu as chief of the terror-inspiring army. Gaga comes to Lakhmu and Lakhamu and delivers the message verbatim, so that altogether this portion of the narrative is repeated no less than four times.[718] The same tendency towards repetition is met with in the Gilgamesh epic and in the best of the literary productions of Babylonia. It may be ascribed to the influence exerted by the religious hymns and incantations where repetition, as we have seen, is also common, though serving a good purpose.

The message concludes:

I sent Anu, he could not endure her[719] presence.

Ea[720] was afraid and took to flight.

Marduk has stepped forward, the chief of the gods, your son,

To proceed against TiÂmat, he has set his mind.

Marduk's declaration is then repeated.

Upon hearing the message Lakhmu and Lakhamu and "all the Igigi"[721] are distressed, but are powerless to avert the coming disaster. The formal declaration of war having been sent, the followers of Anshar assemble at a meal which is realistically described:

They ate bread, they drank wine.

The sweet wine took away their senses.

They became drunk, and their bodies swelled up.

With this description the third tablet closes.

The meal symbolizes the solemn gathering of the gods. At its conclusion, so it would seem, Marduk is formally installed as the leader to proceed against TiÂmat. The gods vie with one another in showering honors upon Marduk. They encourage him for the fight by praising his unique powers:

Thou art honored among the great gods,

Thy destiny is unique, thy command is Anu.[722]

Marduk, thou art honored among the great gods,

Thy destiny is unique, thy command is Anu,

Henceforth thy order is absolute.

To elevate and to lower is in thy hands,

What issues from thee is fixed, thy order cannot be opposed,

None among the gods may trespass upon thy dominion.

Thy weapons will never be vanquished; they will shatter thy enemies.

O lord! grant life to him who trusts in thee,

But destroy the life of the god who plots evil.

As a proof of the power thus entrusted to Marduk, the gods give the latter a 'sign.' Marduk performs a miracle. A garment is placed in the midst of the gods.

Command that the dress disappear!

Then command that the dress return!

Marduk proceeds to the test.

As he gave the command, the dress disappeared.

He spoke again and the dress was there.

This 'sign,' which reminds one of Yahwe's signs to Moses as a proof of the latter's power,[723] is to be regarded as an indication that "destruction and creation" are in Marduk's hands. The gods rejoice at the exhibition of Marduk's power. In chorus they exclaim, "Marduk is king." The insignia of royalty, throne, sceptre, and authority are conferred upon him.

Now go against TiÂmat, cut off her life,

Let the winds carry her blood to hidden regions.[724]

Marduk thereupon fashions his weapons for the fray. Myth and realism are strangely intertwined in the description of these weapons. Bow and quiver, the lance and club are mentioned, together with the storm and the lightning flash. In addition to this he

Constructs a net wherewith to enclose the life of TiÂmat.

The four winds he grasped so that she could not escape.[725]

The south and north winds, the east and west winds

He brought to the net, which was the gift of his father Anu.

His outfit is not yet complete.

He creates a destructive wind, a storm, a hurricane,

Making of the four winds, seven[726] destructive and fatal ones;

Then he let loose the winds he created, the seven,

To destroy the life[727] of TiÂmat, they followed after him.

Marduk, taking his most powerful weapon in his hand,[728] mounts his chariot, which is driven by fiery steeds. The picture thus furnished of the god, standing upright in his chariot, with his weapons hung about him and the seven winds following in his wake, is most impressive.

He makes straight for the hostile camp. The sight of the god inspires terror on all sides.

The lord comes nearer with his eye fixed upon TiÂmat,

Piercing with his glance (?) Kingu her consort.

Kingu starts back in alarm. He cannot endure the 'majestic halo' which surrounds Marduk. Kingu's associates—the monsters—are terrified at their leader's discomfiture. TiÂmat alone does not lose her courage.

Marduk, brandishing his great weapon, addresses TiÂmat:

Why hast thou set thy mind upon stirring up destructive contest?

He reproaches her for the hatred she has shown towards the gods, and boldly calls her out to the contest:

Stand up! I and thou, come let us fight.

TiÂmat's rage at this challenge is superbly pictured:

When TiÂmat heard these words

She acted as possessed, her senses left her;

TiÂmat shrieked wild and loud,

Trembling and shaking down to her foundations.

She pronounced an incantation, uttered her sacred formula.

Marduk is undismayed:

Then TiÂmat and Marduk, chief of the gods, advanced towards one another.

They advanced to the contest, drew nigh for fight.

The fight and discomfiture of TiÂmat are next described:

The lord spread out his net in order to enclose her.

The destructive wind, which was behind him, he sent forth into her face.

As TiÂmat opened her mouth full wide,

He[729] drove in the destructive wind, so that she could not close her lips.

The strong winds inflated her stomach.

Her heart was beset,[730] she opened still wider her mouth,[731]

He seized the spear and plunged it into her stomach,

He pierced her entrails, he tore through her heart,

He seized hold of her and put an end to her life,

He threw down her carcass and stepped upon her.

The method employed by Marduk is so graphically described that no comment is necessary. After having vanquished TiÂmat, the valiant Marduk attacks her associates. They try to flee, but he captures them all—including Kingu—without much difficulty and puts them into his great net. Most important of all, he tears the tablets of fate from Kingu and places them on his breast. This act marks the final victory. Henceforth, the gods with Marduk—and no longer TiÂmat and her brood—decree the fate of the universe. There is great rejoicing among the gods, who heap presents and offerings upon Marduk. As the vanquisher of chaos, Marduk is naturally singled out to be the establisher of the fixed form and order of the universe. The close of the fourth tablet describes this work of the god, and the subject is continued in the following ones. Unfortunately, these tablets are badly preserved, so that we are far from having a complete view of the various acts of Marduk. He begins by taking the carcass of TiÂmat and cutting it in half.

Previous to this he had trampled upon her and smashed her skull, as we are expressly told, so that the comparison of the monster, thus pressed out, to a flattened fish is appropriate.

He splits her lengthwise.

It is evident that the canopy of heaven is meant. Such is the enormous size of TiÂmat that one-half of her body flattened out so as to serve as a curtain, is stretched across the heavens to keep the 'upper waters'—'the waters above the firmament' as the Book of Genesis puts it—from coming down. To ensure the execution of this design, a bolt is drawn in front of the canopy and a guardian placed there, like at a city wall, to prevent any one or anything from coming out.

This act corresponds closely to the creation of a "firmament" in the first chapter of Genesis. The interpretation is borne out by the statement of Alexander Polyhistor who, quoting from Berosus, states that out of one-half of TiÂmat the heavens were made.[732] The further statement that out of the other half the earth was fashioned is not definitely stated in our version of the creation. The narrative proceeds as follows:

To understand this phrase, we must consider the general character of the "epic," which is, as we have already seen, a composite production, formed of popular elements and of more advanced speculations. The popular element is the interpretation of the storms and rains that regularly visit the Euphrates Valley before the summer season sets in, as a conflict between a monster and the solar deity Marduk. After a struggle, winds at last drive the waters back; TiÂmat is vanquished by the entrance of the 'bad wind' into her body. The sun appears in the heavens and runs across the expanse, passing in his course over the entire vault. The conflict, which in the scholastic system of the theologians is placed at the beginning of things, is in reality a phenomenon of annual occurrence. The endeavor to make Marduk more than what he originally was—a solar deity—leads to the introduction of a variety of episodes that properly belong to a different class of deities. For all that, the original rÔle of Marduk is not obscured. Marduk's passage across the heavens is a trace of the popular phases of the nature myth, and while in one sense, it is appropriately introduced after the fashioning of the expanse, it more properly follows immediately upon the conflict with TiÂmat. In short, we have reached a point in the narrative where the nature myth symbolizing the annual succession of the seasons blends with a cosmological system which is the product of comparatively advanced schools of thought, in such a manner as to render it difficult to draw the line where myth ends and cosmological system begins. For the moment, the nature myth controls the course of the narrative. The sun, upon running its course across the heavens, appears to drop into the great ocean, which the Babylonians, in common with many ancient nations, imagined to surround and to pass underneath the earth.

Hence the next act undertaken by Marduk is the regulation of the course of this subterranean sea. The name given to this sea was Apsu. Marduk however does not create the Apsu. It is in existence at the beginning of things, but he places it under the control of Ea.

This Apsu, as we learn from other sources,[735] flows on all sides of the earth, and since it also fills the hollow under the earth, the latter in reality rests upon the Apsu. Ea is frequently called "the lord of Apsu," but the creation epic, in assigning to Marduk the privilege of preparing the dwelling of Ea, reverses the true order of things, which may still be seen in the common belief that made Marduk the son of Ea. Marduk, the sun rising up out of the ocean, becomes the offspring of Ea, and even the political supremacy of Marduk could not set aside the prerogatives of Ea in the popular mind. In the cosmological system, however, as developed in the schools, such an attempt was made. While recognizing the 'deep' as the domain of Ea, the theologians saved Marduk's honor by having him take a part in fixing Ea's dwelling and in determining its limitations.

With the carcass of TiÂmat stretched across the upper firmament and safely guarded, and with the Apsu under control, the way is clear for the formation of the earth. This act in the drama of creation is referred to in the following lines, though in a manner, that is not free from obscurity. The earth is pictured as a great structure placed over the Apsu and corresponding in dimension with it—at least in one direction.

Esharra is a poetical designation of the earth and signifies, as Jensen has satisfactorily shown, "house of fullness"[737] or "house of fertility." The earth is regarded as a great structure, and placed as it is over the Apsu, its size is dependent upon the latter. Its measurement from one end to the other cannot exceed the width of the Apsu, nor can it be any narrower. The ends of the earth span the great Apsu. The following line specifies the shape given to Esharra:

The earth is not a sphere according to Babylonian ideas, but a hollow hemisphere having an appearance exactly like the vault of heaven, but placed in position beneath the heavenly canopy. As a hemisphere it suggests the picture of a mountain, rising at one end, mounting to a culminating point, and descending at the other end. Hence by the side of Esharra, another name by which the earth was known was Ekur, that is, 'the mountain house.'

Diodorus Seculus, in speaking of the Babylonian cosmology, employs a happy illustration. He says that according to Babylonian notions the world is a "boat turned upside down." The kind of boat meant is, as Lenormant recognized,[738] the deep-bottomed round skiff with curved edges that is still used for carrying loads across and along the Euphrates and Tigris, the same kind of boat that the compilers of Genesis had in view when describing Noah's Ark. The appearance in outline thus presented by the three divisions of the universe—the heavens, the earth, and the waters—would be that of two heavy rainbows, one beneath the other at some distance apart, resting upon a large body of water that flows around the horizons of both rainbows, and also fills the hollow of the second one.[739] The upper 'rainbow' is formed by one-half of the carcass of TiÂmat stretched across in semi-circular shape; the lower one is the great structure Esharra made by Marduk, while the Apsu underneath is the dwelling of Ea. The creation epic, it may be noted once more, takes much for granted. Its chief aim being to glorify Marduk, but little emphasis is laid upon details of interest to us. The parcelling out of these three divisions among Anu, Bel, and Ea is therefore merely alluded to in the closing line of the fourth tablet:

The narrative assumes what we know from other sources, that the heavens constitute the domain of Anu, Esharra belongs to Bel, while Apsu belongs to Ea.

The mention of the triad takes us away from popular myth to the scholastic system as devised by the theologians. The establishment of the triad in full control marks the introduction of fixed order into the universe. All traces of TiÂmat have disappeared. Anu, Bel, and Ea symbolize the eternal laws of the universe.

There are, as we have seen, two factors involved in the rÔle assigned to Marduk in the version of the creation epic under consideration,—one the original character of the god as a solar deity, the other the later position of the god as the head of the Babylonian pantheon. In the 'epic,' the fight of Marduk with TiÂmat belongs to Marduk as a solar deity. The myth is based, as was above suggested,[741] upon the annual phenomenon witnessed in Babylonia when the whole valley is flooded and storms sweep across the plains. The sun is obscured. A conflict is going on between the waters and storms, on the one hand, and the sun, on the other hand. The latter finally is victorious. Marduk subdues TiÂmat, fixes limitations to the 'upper and lower waters,' and triumphantly marches across the heavens from one end to the other, as general overseer.

This nature myth was admirably adapted to serve as the point of departure for the enlargement of the rÔle of Marduk, rendered necessary by the advancement of the god to the head of the pantheon. Everything had to be ascribed to Marduk. Not merely humanity, but the gods also had to acknowledge, and acknowledge freely, the supremacy of Marduk.

The solar deity thus becomes a power at whose command the laws of the universe are established, the earth created and all that is on it. In thus making Marduk the single creator, the theologians were as much under the influence of Marduk's political supremacy, as they helped to confirm that supremacy by their system. With this object in view, the annual phenomenon was transformed into an account of what happened 'once upon a time.'

What impressed the thinkers most in the universe was the regular working of the laws of nature. Ascribing these laws to Marduk, they naturally pictured the beginnings of things as a lawless period. Into the old and popular Marduk-TiÂmat nature myth, certain touches were thus introduced that changed its entire character. This once done, it was a comparatively simple matter to follow up the conflict of Marduk and TiÂmat by a series of acts on Marduk's part, completing the work of general creation. The old nature myth ended with the conquest of the rains and storm and the establishment of the sun's regular course, precisely as the deluge story in Genesis, which contains echoes of the Marduk-TiÂmat myth, ends with the promulgation of the fixed laws of the universe.[742] What follows upon this episode in the Babylonian epic is the elaboration of the central theme, worked out in the schools of Babylonian thought and intended, on the one hand, to illustrate Marduk's position as creator and, on the other, to formulate the details of the cosmological system.

With the fifth tablet, therefore, we leave the domain of popular myth completely and pass into the domain of cosmological speculation. Fragmentary as the fifth tablet is, enough is preserved to show that it assumes the perfection of the zodiacal system of the Babylonian schools and the complete regulation[743] of the calendar. In this zodiacal system, as has been intimated and as will be more fully set forth in a special chapter, the planets and stars are identified with the gods. The gods have their 'stations' and their 'pictures' in the starry sky. The stars are the 'drawings' or 'designs of heaven.' It is Marduk again who is represented as arranging these stations:

An epitome of the astronomical science of the Babylonians is comprised in these lines. The gods being identified with stars and each of the latter having its place in the heavens 'to establish the stations for the great gods' is equivalent to putting the stars in position. The regulation of the year forms part of the astronomical science. The three stars that constitute 'divisions' to aid in marking off the months are Nibir, Bel, and Ea. That the Babylonians had such a system as is here outlined is confirmed by Diodorus Seculus.[750] The position of Nibir, or Jupiter, whose course keeps closer to the ecliptic than that of any other planet, served as an important guide in calendrical calculations. The stars are represented as clinging to their course through maintaining their relationship to Nibir, while at the side of Nibir and as additional guides, Bel is identified with the north pole of the equator and Ea with a star in the extreme southern heavens, to be sought for, perhaps, in the constellation Argo. The description concludes:

The heavens are thus made firm by two gates, fastened with bolts and placed at either end. Through one of these gates the sun passes out in the morning, and at evening enters into the other. But the most important body in the heavens is the moon. Its functions are described in an interesting way:

The passage is made clear by a reference to the Book of Genesis, i. 16, where we are told that the moon was created 'for the rule of night.' A distinction between the Biblical and the cuneiform cosmology at this point is no less significant. While according to Babylonian ideas, the moon alone, or at most the moon with the stars, regulates the days, the Hebrew version makes the moon and sun together the basis for the regulation of the 'days and years.' The sun according to Babylonian notions does not properly belong to the heavens, since it passes daily beyond the limits of the latter. The sun, therefore, plays an insignificant part in the calendrical system in comparison with the moon.

Marduk addresses the moon, specifying its duties, what position it is to occupy towards the sun at certain periods during the monthly course, and the like. The tablet at this point becomes defective, and before the address comes to an end, we are left entirely in the lurch. To speculate as to the further contents of the fifth tablet and of the sixth (of which nothing has as yet been found) seems idle. Zimmern supposes that after the heavenly phenomena had been disposed of, the formation of the dry land and of the seas was taken up, and Delitzsch is of the opinion that in the sixth tablet the creation of plants and trees and animals was also recounted. I venture to question whether the creation of the 'dry land and seas' was specifically mentioned. Esharra, the earth, is in existence and the Apsu appears to include all waters, but that the epic treated of the creation of plant and animal life and then of the creation of man is eminently likely. We have indeed a fragment of a tablet[755] in which the creation of the 'cattle of the field, beasts of the field, and creeping things of the field' is referred to; but since it is the 'gods who in unison' are there represented as having created the animal kingdom, it is hardly likely that the fragment forms part of our 'epic' in which all deeds are ascribed to Marduk. It belongs in all probability to a different cosmological version, but so much can be concluded from it, that the Babylonians ascribed the creation of animals to some divine power or powers; and that therefore our 'epic' must have contained a section in which this act was assigned to Marduk.

A similar variation exists with reference to the tradition of the creation of mankind. There are distinct traces that the belief was current in parts of Babylonia which made Ea the creation of mankind.[756] Ea, it will be recalled, is the 'god of humanity' par excellence, and yet in the seventh (and probably closing) tablet of the series, Marduk is spoken of as the one "who created mankind."[757]

Variant traditions of this kind point to the existence of various centers of culture and thought in rivalry with one another. The great paean to Marduk would have been sadly incomplete had it not contained an account of the creation of mankind—the crowning work of the universe—by the head of the Babylonian pantheon. It is possible, therefore, that a tablet containing the address of a deity to mankind belongs to our series[758] and embodies orders and warnings given by Marduk after the creation of man, just as he addresses the moon after establishing it in the heavens. Purity of heart is enjoined as pleasing to the deity. Prayer and supplication and prostration are also commanded. It is said that

The tablet continues in this strain. It is perhaps not the kind of address that we would expect Marduk to make after the act of creation, but for the present we must content ourselves with this conjecture, as also with the supposition that the creation of mankind constituted the final act in the great drama in which Marduk is the hero.

When Marduk's work is finished, the Igigi gather around him in adoration. This scene is described in a tablet which for the present we may regard[759] as the close of the series. No less than fifty names are bestowed upon him by the gods, the number fifty corresponding according to some traditions to the number of the Igigi. Marduk accordingly absorbs the qualities of all the gods. Such is the purpose of this tablet. The diction is at times exceedingly impressive.

The gods recall with gratitude Marduk's service in vanquishing TiÂmat. Marduk is also praised for the mercy he showed towards the associates of TiÂmat, whom he merely captured without putting them to death.

A later fancy identified the 'captured gods' with eleven of the heavenly constellations.[763]

Mankind is enjoined not to forget Marduk

Among other names assigned to him are 'the one who knows the heart of the gods,' 'who gathers the gods together,' 'who rules in truth and justice.' In allusion again to his contest with TiÂmat, he is called 'the destroyer of the enemy and of all wicked ones,' 'who frustrates their plans.'

With the help of a pun upon his having 'pierced' TiÂmat; he is called Nibir, i.e., the planet Jupiter.[764]

But the climax is reached when, upon hearing what the Igigi have done, the great gods, father Bel and father Ea cheerfully bestow their own names upon Marduk.

The historical background to this transference of the name of Bel has been dwelt upon in a previous chapter.[767] This "Marduk hymn" is to justify the transference of the rÔle of the older Bel of Nippur to the younger god Marduk. Throughout, the tablet describing the contest of Marduk with TiÂmat, Marduk is called Bel,[768] and while this name is used in the generic sense of "lord," the transference of the name of Bel to Marduk is evidently introduced to account for his assuming the prerogatives belonging to another god. The original 'lord' was En-lil of Nippur. The sacred significance of ancient Nippur made its patron deity the most important rival of Marduk. Bel could not be disposed of as Ea, who by virtue of his mythological relationships to Marduk—a solar deity—could be retained as the father of Marduk. There was nothing left but for Marduk to take the place of Bel. The constant introduction of the epithet 'Bel' into the TiÂmat story points to an older version in which Bel was the hero. In popular traditions, Bel continued to be pictured as armed with mighty weapons,[769] and, though ready to inflict severe punishment for disobedience to his commands, he engages in contests for the benefit of mankind. The earth being his special sphere of action, what more natural than that he should have had a prominent share in adapting it as a habitation for mankind. He would be directly interested in fighting the powers of darkness.

In the weapons that Marduk employs, particularly the lightning and the winds which belong to an atmospheric god rather than a solar deity, we may discern traces of the older narrative which has been combined with the Marduk-TiÂmat nature myth.[770] It may be that Kingu represents Bel's particular rival. In the narrative, it will be recalled, the contest with TiÂmat is sharply separated from that with Kingu and his associates. The division that thus suggests itself between Marduk and TiÂmat, on the one hand, Bel and the monsters with Kingu at their head, on the other, may certainly be termed a natural one. The solar deity Marduk disposed of the storms and rains of the winter, whereas, a god of "that which is below,"[771] i.e., the earth and the atmosphere immediately above the earth, would appropriately be represented as ridding the earth of the monsters in order to prepare it as a habitation for mankind. Ea was not such a serious rival to Marduk as the older Bel. Political rivalry between Nippur and Babylonia probably contributed towards the disposition to have Marduk completely absorb the rÔle of Bel, whereas, this rivalry being absent in the case of Eridu (the original seat of Ea worship) and Babylon, the mythological relations between Ea and Marduk led, as already pointed out, in a perfectly natural way to making Marduk the son of Ea. Still, while cheerfully acknowledged by Ea as his equal, it is evident that in older traditions Ea was far superior to Marduk, and the latter replaces Ea as he does Bel. The real creator of mankind, according to certain traditions, is Ea, just as in all probabilities a third tradition existed which arose in Nippur giving to Bel that distinction. It is necessary, therefore, for Ea to declare that Marduk's name (i.e., his power) is the same as Ea. The alteration of the traditions is thus justified by a harmonistic theology. Marduk has triumphed over Bel and Ea. The god of Babylon reigns supreme, his sway acknowledged by those whom he supplants. Marduk's declaration that in the event of his vanquishing TiÂmat he will assume authority over all the gods is thus formally confirmed. The epic closes grandiloquently:

The compiler has added to the epic what Delitzsch appropriately designates an 'epilogue,'—a declaration of affection for Marduk. The epilogue consists of three stanzas. All mankind—royalty and subjects—are called upon to bear in mind Marduk's glorious deeds, achieved for the benefit of the world.

Marduk's anger, the poet says in closing, terrifies even the gods, but he is a god upon whose mercy one may rely, though he punishes the evil-doer.

Bearing in mind the general nature of the creation epic we have discussed, we must of course in our conclusions distinguish between those elements in it which reflect the intent of the compiler or compilers to glorify Marduk at the expense of other gods and such parts as bear the stamp of being generally accepted beliefs. Setting aside, therefore, the special rÔle assigned to Marduk, we find that the Babylonians never developed a theory of real beginnings. The creatio ex nihilo was a thought beyond the grasp even of the schools. There was always something, and indeed there was always a great deal—as much perhaps at the beginning of things as at any other time. But there was no cosmic order. Instead of a doctrine of creation, we have a doctrine of evolution from chaos to the imposition of eternal laws. The manifestation of these laws was seen first of all in the movements of the heavenly bodies. There was a great expanse, presenting the appearance of a stretched-out curtain or a covering to which the stars and moon were attached. Along this expanse the wandering stars moved with a certain regularity. The moon, too, had its course mapped out and the sun appeared in this expanse daily, as an overseer, passing along the whole of it. This wonderful system was the first to be perfected, and to the solar deity,[774] which seemed to control everything, was ascribed the distinction of having introduced the heavenly order. This notion we may well believe was of popular origin, though elaborated in the schools to conform to a developed astrological science.

The stars and moon never passed beyond certain limits, and, accordingly, the view was developed which gave to the canopy of heaven fixed boundaries. At each end of the canopy was a great gate, properly guarded. Through one of these the sun passed in rising out of the ocean, through the other it passed out when it had run its course. Learned speculation could not improve upon this popular fancy. As the heavens had their limitations, so also the great bodies of water were kept in check by laws, which, though eternal, were yet not quite as inexorable as those controlling the heavenly bodies. The yearly overflow of the Euphrates and Tigris was too serious a matter to be overlooked, and we shall see in a following chapter[775] how this phenomenon was interpreted as a rivalry between Bel and Ea, deliberately caused by the former in anger toward mankind. Still, as a general thing, the 'deep,' presided over by Ea, kept within the limits assigned to it. The waters above the canopy were under rigid control, and the lower waters flowed around the earth and underneath it, and bordered the canopy of heaven at its two ends.

The earth itself was a vast hollow structure, erected as a "place of fertility" under the canopy of heaven and resting on the great 'deep.' Its vegetation was the gift of the gods. 'Fertility' summed up the law fixed for the earth. Much as in the Book of Genesis, "to multiply and increase" was the order proclaimed for the life with which the earth was filled.

The creation of mankind was the last act in the great drama. Assigned in some traditions to Ea, in others as it would seem to Bel, the transfer of the traditions to Marduk is the deliberate work of the schools of theological thought. The essential point for us is that mankind, according to all traditions, is the product of the gods. In some form or other, this belief was popularly held everywhere. Its original form, however, is obscured beyond recognition by the theory which it is made to serve.

A second version of the course of creation[776] agrees in the main with the first one, but adds some points of interest. In this version, likewise, Marduk is assigned the most important rÔle—an evidence that it was produced under similar influences as the larger epic. So far as preserved, the second version differs from the first in its brevity and in the prominence given to such themes as the development of animal life and the growth of civilization. It fills out to a certain degree the gaps in the first version, due to the fragmentary condition of the fifth tablet and the loss of the sixth. The brevity of the second version is due in part to the fact that it is introduced into an incantation text, and, what is more, incidentally introduced.

It begins as does the larger epic with the statement regarding the period when the present phenomena of the universe were not yet in existence, but it specifies the period in a manner which gives a somewhat more definite character to the conception of this ancient time.

Again it will be observed that neither popular nor scholastic speculation can picture the beginning of things in any other way than as an absence of things characteristic of the order of the universe.

The bright[784] house of the gods corresponds to Eshara and the canopy of heaven in the first version. The gods are again identified with the stars, and it is in the heavens—the bright place—that the gods dwell.[785] The reference to the absence of vegetation agrees closely with the corresponding passage in the larger creation epic. The limitations of the cosmological speculations of the Babylonians find a striking illustration in the manner in which the beginnings of human culture are placed on a level with the beginnings of heavenly and terrestrial phenomena. Nippur, Erech, and Eridu, which are thus shown to be the oldest religious centers of the Euphrates Valley, were indissolubly associated in the minds of the people with the beginning of order in the universe. Such was the antiquity of those cities as seats of the great gods, Bel, Ishtar, and Ea, that the time when they did not exist was not differentiated from the creation of the heavens and of plant life. This conception is more clearly emphasized by the parallelism implied between Eridu and the 'deep.' The 'formation' of Apsu corresponds to the 'structure' made by Marduk according to the first version, as the seat of Ea. The waters were not created by Marduk, but they were confined by him within a certain space. In a vague way, the 'deep' itself rested in a vast tub. The waters flowed freely and yet not without limitation.

The contest with TiÂmat is not referred to in this second version, and this may be taken as an indication that the 'nature' myth was not an ingredient part of cosmological speculations, but only introduced into the first version because of its associations with Marduk.

The appearance of dry land is described somewhat vaguely as follows:

The mention of the channel appears to imply that the waters were permitted to flow off in a certain direction.

The conception would then be similar to the view expressed in Genesis, where the dry land appears in consequence of the waters being 'gathered' into one place.[789] The temple at Eridu is regarded as synonymous with the city, as the temples E-Kur and E-Anna are synonymous with Nippur and Erech respectively. Eridu at the head of the Persian Gulf, which for the Babylonians was the beginning of the great 'Okeanos' surrounding the world,[790] is the first dry land to appear and hence the oldest place in the world. At this point in the narrative a line is interpolated which clearly betrays the lateness of the version. The mention of E-Sagila suggests to a Babylonian, naturally, the great temple of Marduk in the city of Babylon—'the lofty house.' Local pride and the desire to connect Babylon with the beginning of things leads to the insertion:

With this mention of Babylon, the connecting link is established which leads easily to the glorification of Babylon and Marduk. The thought once introduced is not abandoned. The rest of the narrative, so far as preserved, is concerned with Marduk. Eridu alone is beyond his jurisdiction. Everything else, vegetation, mankind, rivers, animals, and all cities, including even Nippur and Erech, are Marduk's work.

The 'glorious city' is Eridu, though the compiler would have us apply it to Babylon.

With the founding of Eridu, a limit was fixed for the 'deep.' The rest of the dry land is formed according to the theory of the writer by the extension of this place.

Marduk constructed an enclosure around the waters,

He made dust and heaped it up within the enclosure.[793]

The naÏvetÉ of the conception justifies us in regarding it as of popular origin, incorporated by the theologians into their system.

But this land is created primarily for the benefit of the gods.

Naturally not all of the gods are meant,—perhaps only the Anunnaki,—for the great gods dwell in heaven. The creation of mankind is next described, and is boldly ascribed to Marduk.

In the following line, however, we come across a trace again of an older tradition, which has been embodied in the narrative in a rather awkward manner. Associated with Marduk in the creation of mankind is a goddess Aruru.

We encounter this goddess Aruru in the Gilgamesh epic,[796] where she is represented as creating a human being,—Eabani; and, curiously enough, she creates him in agreement with the Biblical tradition, out of a lump of clay. It has already been pointed out that according to one tradition Ea is the creator of mankind,[797] and the conjecture has also been advanced that at Nippur, Bel was so regarded. In Aruru we have evidently a figure to whom another tradition, that arose in some district, ascribed the honor of having created mankind. The Gilgamesh story is connected with the city of Erech, and it is probable that the tale—at least in part—originated there. It becomes plausible, therefore, to trace the tradition ascribing the creation of man to Aruru to the same place. A passage in the Deluge story, which forms an episode of the Gilgamesh epic, adds some force to this conjecture. After the dreadful deluge has come, Ishtar breaks out in wild lament that mankind, her offspring, has perished: "What I created, where is it?"[798] She is called 'the mistress of the gods,'[799] and if Jensen is correct in an ingenious restoration of a defective text,[800] Aruru is given the same epithet in a lexicographical tablet. The Ishtar occurring in the Gilgamesh story is the old Ishtar of Erech. I venture to suggest, therefore, that Aruru and Ishtar of Erech are one and the same personage. Ishtar is, of course, as has been pointed out, merely a generic name[801] for the 'great goddess' worshipped under many forms. The more specific name by which Ishtar of Erech was known was NanÂ, but Nan again is nothing but an epithet, meaning, as the Babylonians themselves interpreted it, the 'lady' par excellence. Have we perhaps in Aruru the real name of the old goddess of Erech? At all events, the occurrence of Aruru in this second 'creation' story points to her as belonging to the district of which Erech was the center. In this way, each one of the three most ancient sacred towns of Babylonia would have its 'creator,'—Bel in Nippur, Ea in Eridu, and Aruru in Erech. The chief deity of Erech, it will be recalled, was always a goddess,—a circumstance that supports the association of Aruru with that place. Aruru being a goddess, it was not so easy to have Marduk take up her rÔle, as he supplanted Bel. Again, Erech and Babylon were not political rivals to the degree that Nippur and Babylon were. Accordingly a compromise was effected, as in the case of Marduk and Ea. Aruru is associated with Marduk. She creates mankind with Marduk, and it would seem to be a consequence of this association that the name of Marduk's real consort, Sarpanitum, is playfully but with intent interpreted by the Babylonian pedants as 'seed-producing.'[802]

Our second version thus turns out to be, like the first, an adaptation of old traditions to new conditions. Babylon and Marduk are designedly introduced. In the original form Nippur, Eridu, and Erech alone figured, and presumably, therefore, only the deities of these three places. Among them the work of creation was in some way parceled out. This distribution may itself have been the result of a combination of independent traditions. In any early combination, however, we may feel certain that Marduk was not introduced.

After this incidental mention of Aruru, the narrative passes back undisturbed to Marduk.

The text at this point becomes defective, but we can still make out that the clay as building material is created by Marduk, and that he constructs houses and rears cities. Corresponding to the opening lines, we may supply several lines as follows:

Here the break in the tablet begins.

The new points derived from this second version are, (a) the details in the creation of the animal and plant world, (b) the mention of Aruru as the mother of mankind, and (c) the inclusion of human culture in the story of the 'beginnings.'

Before leaving the subject, a brief comparison of these two versions with the opening chapters of Genesis is called for. That the Hebrew and Babylonian traditions spring from a common source is so evident as to require no further proof. The agreements are too close to be accidental. At the same time, the variations in detail point to independent elaboration of the traditions on the part of the Hebrews and Babylonians.

A direct borrowing from the Babylonians has not taken place, and while the Babylonian records are in all probabilities much older than the Hebrew, the latter again contain elements, as Gunkel has shown, of a more primitive character than the Babylonian production. This relationship can only be satisfactorily explained on the assumption that the Hebrews possessed the traditions upon which the Genesis narrative rests long before the period of the Babylonian exile, when the story appears, indeed, to have received its final and present shape. The essential features of the Babylonian cosmology formed part of a stock of traditions that Hebrews and Babylonians (and probably others) received from some common source or, to put it more vaguely, held in common from a period, the limits of which can no longer be determined. While the two Babylonian versions agree in the main, embodying the same general traditions regarding the creation of the heavenly bodies and containing the same general conception of an evolution in the world from confusion and caprice to order, and the establishment of law, the variations in regard to the terrestrial phenomena must not be overlooked. According to the first version, mankind appears as the last episode of creation; in the second, mankind precedes vegetation and animal life.

If we now take up the two versions of creation found in Genesis, we will see that the same differences may be observed. According to the first, the so-called Elohistic version,[803] mankind is not created until the last day of creation; according to the second,[804] the so-called Yahwistic version, mankind is first created, then a garden is made and trees are planted. After that, the beasts of the field and the birds of heaven are called into existence. The resemblance of the second Babylonian version to the Yahwistic version extends even to certain phrases which they have in common. The opening words of the Yahwist—

might serve almost as a translation of the second line of the Babylonian counterpart. The reference to the Tigris and Euphrates in the second Babylonian version reminds one of the four streams mentioned in the Yahwistic version, two of which are likewise the Tigris and Euphrates. Again, TiÂmat is mentioned only in the first Babylonian version, and T'hÔm similarly only in the Elohistic version; while, on the other hand, the building of cities is included in the Yahwistic version,[805] as it forms part of the second Babylonian version. The points mentioned suffice to show that the Elohistic version is closely related to the larger creation epic of the Babylonians, while the Yahwistic version—more concise, too, than the Elohistic—agrees to an astonishing degree with the second and more concise Babylonian record.

The conclusion, therefore, is justified that the variations between the Babylonian versions rest upon varying traditions that must have arisen in different places. The attempt was made to combine these traditions by the Babylonians, and among the Hebrews we may see the result of a similar attempt in the first two or, more strictly speaking, in the first three chapters of Genesis. At the same time, the manner in which both traditions have been worked over by the Hebrew compilers of Genesis precludes, as has been pointed out, the theory of a direct borrowing from cuneiform documents. The climatic conditions involved in the Hebrew versions are those peculiar to Babylonia. It is in Babylonia that the thought would naturally arise of making the world begin with the close of the storms and rains in the spring. The Terahites must therefore have brought these cosmological traditions with them upon migrating from the Euphrates Valley to the Jordan district.

The traditions retained their hold through all the vicissitudes that the people underwent. The intercourse, political and commercial, between Palestine and Mesopotamia was uninterrupted, as we now know, from at least the fifteenth century before our era down to the taking of Jerusalem by Nebuchadnezzar, and this constant intercourse was no doubt an important factor in maintaining the life of the old traditions that bound the two peoples together. The so-called Babylonian exile brought Hebrews and Babylonians once more side by side. Under the stimulus of this direct contact, the final shape was given by Hebrew writers to their cosmological speculations. Yahwe is assigned the rÔle of Bel-Marduk, the division of the work of creation into six days is definitely made,[806] and some further modifications introduced. While, as emphasized, this final shape is due to the independent elaboration of the common traditions, and, what is even more to the point, shows an independent interpretation of the traditions, it is by no means impossible, but on the contrary quite probable, that the final compilers of the Hebrew versions had before them the cuneiform tablets, embodying the literary form given to the traditions by Babylonian writers.[807] Such a circumstance, while not implying direct borrowing, would account for the close parallels existing between the two Hebrew and the two Babylonian versions, and would also furnish a motive to the Hebrew writers for embodying two versions in their narrative.

FOOTNOTES:

[777] Clay, it will be recalled, was the building material in Babylonia.