CHAPTER V

THE WORLD OF SPIRITS

+Awe.+--A fundamental sense of awe was felt in the presence of anything

unusual or contrary to experience, and man's instinctive philosophy

shaped his ideas from the suggestions of daily life, accounting for all

cases of causation by assimilating them to the intentional acts of

voluntary agents like himself. There was no doubt of the existence and

influence of surrounding unseen powers; they must be cajoled, appeased,

bribed and rewarded. Some were inevitably malevolent; with others man

could enter into relations which were mutually beneficial. Even at the

present day there is no clear distinction between what we should call

the natural and the supernatural; a demon or a saint can appear in

human or animal form; and the marvel or miracle is that which happens

to lie outside the intellectual horizon of the individual. The modern

phenomena can be traced back through {51} early sources and appear now

in grosser and now in more elevated forms; even the presence of any

advanced material culture, or of more spiritual conceptions of the

Godhead does not annihilate that lower supernaturalism which flourishes

uncontrolled among more rudimentary races. It would be unreasonable to

suppose that the religion of our period was more free from imprecision

than that of more progressive peoples: the whole routine of life

brought the individual into constant contact with unseen agencies, and

the world of spirits involved a medley of beliefs, more embarrassing to

the modern inquirer who seeks to systematise them, than to the Oriental

mind which has always been able and willing to accept the incredible

and the contradictory.

Man's relations with the spirits whom he shuns or seeks are illustrated

in magical practices; _e.g._ incantation, symbolic magic (p. 34).

+Charms,+ on the other hand, possess a magical virtue which is

effective without interference on the part of the possessor. Many

little objects of this character have been unearthed: pendants of red

coral (still a prophylactic against the evil eye), beads (still

supposed to possess curative properties), small articles cut out of

bone {52} (especially the heads of human femora, sawn off and

perforated). Here may be included the occasional jewels (_e.g._ a

silver pendant crescent)--amulets and ornaments were closely

associated, and the latter continue to convey ideas which could be

regarded as idolatrous (compare Gen. xxxv. 4). The representations of

Egyptian gods and the 'Horus-eyes' should also be mentioned here.

'Eyes' are still on sale in the East, they are expected to be on the

watch for evil influences. But the anxiety to avert evil and to

procure favour need not involve an intelligent interest in the means

employed, and some of the objects (when not originally possessed by

Egyptian settlers) may have as much bearing upon the question of

Egyptian influence upon the religion of Palestine as the use of foreign

(Phoenician?) formulæ in Egyptian magical texts.

+Oracles+ are obtained at those places where supernatural beings have

manifested themselves, or from their symbols or their human

representatives. In the stone enclosures at Serabit Professor Petrie

would recognise the sacred places visited by those who worked the mines

and hoped for useful dreams. The value attached to visions of the

night needs no telling, and when the {53} Egyptian king Merneptah saw

in his sleep the god Ptah offering him the sword of victory, or when

the god Ashur directed the Lydian Gyges to 'lay hold of the feet' of

Ashurbanipal (_i.e._ place himself under his protection), we perceive

among relatively advanced societies important factors in the growth of

all religions. Divine advice and help could be granted by the statues

of the gods: a cuneiform tablet from Taanach refers to an omen given by

the finger of the goddess Ashirat, and the writer asks for the sign and

its interpretation. As in the 'nodding' of the gods in Egyptian

records the _modus operandi_ must not be too closely examined. Some of

the old caverns of Palestine were certainly used for magical or

religious purposes, and when we find them connected by small and curved

passages, it is not improbable that they were the scenes of oracles,

theophanies, and the like (p. 15 _sq._). As Mr. Macalister has

observed, apropos of such caverns in the lowlands of Judah and at

Gezer, mysterious responses and wonders could be easily contrived, and

would be as convincing to the ignorant as the Miracle of the Holy Fire

is to the modern Russian pilgrim in the Church of the Holy Sepulchre at

Jerusalem. The association of caves and other hidden resorts with the

{54} worship of deities and oracles is well-known in other fields

(_e.g._ Greece). Susa also had a god of oracles who dwelt in secret

retreats, and other deities whose remote haunts were burned by

Ashurbanipal when he carried them off.

+The representatives of the supernatural powers+ include prophets,

priests, and even kings; they are also the possessors of supernatural

qualities, the one involved the other. Between the modern Palestinian

_majnūn_ ('possessed by the jinn') and fakir, and the prophet of

old--contemptuously called 'madman'--the difference is one of degree.

The frenzied utterer is capable of incalculable good or harm, and often

enjoys a respect out of all keeping with his merits. His very sanctity

places him in a class by himself, and he is allowed a licence which

would not be tolerated in others. An early example of inspiration

appears in the story of Wenamon of Egypt who visited Zakarbaal of

Byblos, probably in the reign of Ramses XII. (about 1100 B.C.).

Although the envoy had with him the statue of the great Egyptian god

Amon, for nineteen days he received scant courtesy and was unable to

obtain the desired interview. At length, as the king was sacrificing

to his gods, one of his noble youths {55} was seized with ecstasy which

lasted the whole night, and in this state he demanded that 'the

messenger of Amon' be summoned (for the sequel see below, p. 74 _sq._).

Prophecy, as Dr. Frazer has shown, by means of numerous examples, is 'a

phenomenon of almost world-wide occurrence,' and it is important to

remember that the relations between man and the spirit-world are not to

be estimated in the light of modern preconceptions. There were

orthodox and unorthodox relations, legitimate and illegitimate

communion, true and false representatives of the supernatural powers;

distinctions were maintained although the evidence is often

insufficient for us to appreciate older standpoints. Broadly speaking,

it may be affirmed that the test lay in the communal aspect of religion

(whether of clan, tribe, or people) which was opposed to practices

which were private or independent of the official cult.

+The dead,+ in their turn, depart into the mysterious unseen which

looms so largely in the thoughts of the living, and burial and mourning

rites are shaped by many different principles depending upon theories

of the nature of spirits, affection for the dead, the safety of his

soul, fear of malignant influences, etc. But the {56} interpretation

of the religious rites which attended every crisis in life becomes

unusually difficult when the community suffer a loss, and perhaps no

other study stands so much in need of careful 'comparative' treatment.

Unfortunately Palestine has furnished no funerary texts, and little

direct evidence; the dead 'go to their fate,' the king of Mitanni fasts

on the day he hears of the death of Amenhotep III., and Zakarbaal of

Byblos offers to show Wenamon the tomb where the members of a former

embassy sleep (_lit._ lie, or pass the night). A people accustomed to

the annual death and revival of nature might easily formulate theories

of the survival of the dead, and care is accordingly taken to provide

for the needs of the deceased (p. 35). But the same thoughts are not

necessarily symbolised by the same rites. Thus, cremation, the earlier

custom, may have been intended to sever the soul from the body, to

destroy the haunting spirit, or to prevent contamination and contagion.

However, the subsequent use of the Gezer crematorium by those who

practised inhumation involved a continuity of thought, albeit with some

adaptation and adjustment, since identical conceptions of death and the

dead scarcely encircled the two distinct customs. This is instructive

for the growth of {57} complex ideas, and the subsequent prohibition in

Palestine of certain mourning rites may find a probable explanation in

their association with cults which were regarded as illegitimate.

The attitude of the living towards the dead raises the problem of

ancestor-worship and the relation between deified ancestors and gods.

In the absence of contemporary evidence from Ancient Palestine, we may

notice the inscription of King Panammu of North Syria (eighth century),

where he acknowledges his indebtedness to his gods, especially Hadad,

to whose honour he erects a colossal statue of the deity. The text

invokes the god's blessing upon the successor to the throne, provided

that the latter when he sacrifices makes mention of Panammu's soul with

Hadad or prays that Panammu's soul may eat and drink with the god.

Should these duties be neglected, Hadad is besought not to accept the

sacrifices, to refuse his requests; and sleeplessness and other

troubles are called down upon the unfilial descendant. It appears from

this, therefore, that while the dead relies upon the attentions of the

living, and it was necessary that his name should be kept fresh; the

dead could only exert an indirect influence, and the soul or vital

principle, apart from the body, could be {58} regarded as potent only

through its companionship with the deity. This may be supplemented

from Egypt in the account of the relations between Ramses II. and his

dead father, Sety I. The latter is reminded of the benefits which his

son had conferred upon him, his statue, and his _ka_ or vital force.

These he may still continue to enjoy, and, since he now has the

companionship of the gods, Ramses beseeches him to influence them to

grant him a long reign. The deceased king acknowledges the bread and

water which had been regularly offered to him; and relates that he has

become a god more beautiful than before; he now mingles with the great

gods, and he declares that he has successfully interceded on his son's

behalf.

The dead relied upon his descendants and upon the benevolence of future

generations, and Egyptian kings (at least) hoped to partake of the food

offered to the recognised deities. Religious and other works were

undertaken that the 'name' might 'live.' Promises and threats were

freely made to ensure due attention, and were usually respected by the

living; but the frequent acts of desecration would indicate that fear

of the dead was not necessarily a predominating or lasting feeling, at

all events outside a man's {59} own family. The above-mentioned

Panammu and Ramses are somewhat exceptional cases since individuals,

distinguished by rank, sanctity, or even more ordinary qualifications,

readily acquire distinguished positions in after-life. Moreover,

Ramses, at all events, was already a god, in his life-time, in

accordance with Egyptian belief, and all those who had had the

advantage of being representatives of the supernatural powers scarcely

lost this relative superiority. The protection afforded by famous

tombs and the virtues of the dust taken from such sacred spots are

recognised to the present day. The venerated shrines regularly found

their justification in the traditions which encircled the illustrious

occupant: to violate them was not merely an insult, it struck a blow at

one of the centres of cult and prosperity. Unfortunately for the

problem, by the side of the tendency to elevate an illustrious ancestor

must be placed the very human and inveterate weakness of tracing for

oneself a noble ancestry. Like the claim of the modern Palestinian

peasant to be descended from the alleged occupant of the local shrine

which he venerates, every apparent case of ancestor-worship stands in

need of a critical examination. As in most problems of religion,

ambiguity of terminology (viz. 'worship') {60} is responsible for much

confusion. It must be admitted that there would be a natural

inclination for every individual to regard his dead ancestor in the

spirit-world as more powerful and influential than himself. If this

were so even when there were recognised gods, it is obvious that

allowance must be made for the crucial stages, before the deities

gained that recognition, and after they had lost it.

Space prevents any adequate reference to the part which +animism+ has

held in the history of Palestinian religion; without a recognition of

this fundamental factor in all religions much of our evidence would be

unintelligible.[1] When we take the ideas which are associated with

the _name_, we find that it has magical powers, its use enlists or

confers protection or possession; it is the nature or essence of the

thing which bears it--indeed, almost identical with it (comp. Is. xxx.

27). Hence the meaning of names is always instructive. The

supposition that the child who bears an animal-name will acquire

something of the quality of the animal in question (whatever be the

original {61} motive) preserves more than metaphor, and indicates a

stage when man saw little difference between animals and himself. Even

at the present day it is still believed that the soul of an ancestor

can reappear in an animal (comp. p. 50). In like manner, the personal

names of our period which denote kinship with a deity point to a belief

in a physical relationship as natural as the conviction of the modern

native when he refers to Allah in terms which imply that man is in

every detail the literal image of the Almighty. A difference between

human and superhuman is scarcely recognised at the present day. The

women of the land continue to visit the holy sites to obtain offspring,

and it is freely acknowledged that welis and spirits of the dead can be

physical fathers. This absence of any clear dividing-line between

natural and supernatural is inveterate. The Egyptian Pharaoh of old

was both a god and the son of a god, and a record is preserved of the

visit of the god Amon to queen Ahmose in the form of her husband. The

halo of divinity was perhaps not so distinct as in earlier times, but

in their king the people still saw the earthly likeness of the deity.

[1] It must suffice to refer to works dealing with primitive religion,

see E. Clodd, _Animism, the Seed of Religion_ (London, 1905), A. C.

Haddon, _Magic and Fetishism_ (1906), in this series.

+The Divinity of kings+ was a fundamental belief {62} which reveals

itself in a variety of forms through Western Asia and Egypt. The

inscriptions of Gudea, the code of Khammurabi, the Assyrian records and

the praises of the Pharaohs reflect conceptions which are materialised

now in the insignia of the kings, and now in their costume and toilet.

In a Babylonian myth the royal ornaments lay before the supreme god

awaiting the monarch; in Egypt the king is the god's _ka_, his

first-born; chosen, created and crowned by the divine father. The

kings stood in the closest relationship to the gods; they were not only

the heads of the state, they were also (in early Assyria) priest-kings,

and in Egypt theoretically all offerings for the living and the dead

were made by the Pharaoh. All this was neither mere empty formality

nor an isolated eccentricity. It is quite in accordance with the

powers commonly ascribed to divine representatives, that the control of

the rain and storm is held to depend upon the influence of Ramses II.

with the weather-god. It is equally intelligible (from anthropological

evidence) when the same king caused the gods to take up their abode in

the images which had been prepared for them!

Khammurabi could declare that he carried in his bosom the people of

Sumer and Akkad, and {63} the Pharaoh could call himself the husband of

Egypt, while Egypt was 'the only daughter of Re (the sun-god) whose son

sits upon the throne.' Not only was he the incarnation and the son of

the deity (or of all the recognised deities), but he was the cause of

the land's fruitfulness, prosperity, and protection. The Pharaoh, 'the

god of all people' (as he is once called), received the adoration of

his subjects, and one could sometimes believe that he was more

essentially a deity than the gods themselves, were it not that the

subordinate gods always maintained their hold upon the people locally.

With all allowance for the difference between conventional and

practical religion, the fundamental relations between land, people,

ruler and the deity persisted in many related though varying forms,

which are extremely interesting in any consideration of the social

changes at the rise of a monarchy and after its downfall.

This digression is necessary, because, although the practical working

of such beliefs as these may perplex us, the fact remains that they

were shared in Palestine. The petty rulers in the Amarna letters

thoroughly recognise the divine nature of the king who was a god and

had the god for his father (see p. 78 _sq._). Later, when Palestine

had its {64} own king, the 'Lord's anointed' was almost as the deity

himself (Ex. xxii. 28, cp. 2 Sam. xiv. 17); king and cult were one

(Hos. iii. 4), and the king's death could be regarded as the extinction

of the nation's lamp (2 Sam. xxi. 17). Not to mention other details,

the Messianic ideals of the divinely-begotten son and of the ruler

whose origin was of aforetime preserve the inveterate belief in the

divine ancestry of rulers, an honour which in other lands continued to

be conferred upon rather than claimed by them.

+Recognised gods.+--It is very important to find that the

representatives or possessors of divine powers are the worshippers of

their deity in life and his inferiors in death. The recognised gods

have their definite circles of clients, and if their human

representatives are subsequently worshipped or even deified, this is a

not unnatural development, especially as the official deities are apt

to be at the mercy of political and religious changes. The older gods

can be degraded and sink to the rank of demons (from newer

stand-points), but the petty deities and the lower supernatural beings

are as little influenced by external vicissitudes as the lower ranks of

humanity with whom they always stand in closer relationship. {65}

Their persistence in popular belief is as typical as the descent of the

more august beings, although even the latter are understood to retain

an influence which those of more recent introduction have not yet

acquired or are unable to exert. While the general fundamental

conceptions remain virtually unchanged, they are shaped by the social

and political institutions, for religious and political life formed

part of the same social organism.

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The Religion of Ancient Palestine in the Second Millenium B.C. · 第 5 / 8 章