CHAPTER XXV.

THE VIEWS OF LIFE AFTER DEATH.

The problem of immortality, we have seen, engaged the serious attention

of the Babylonian theologians. While the solutions they had to offer

could hardly have been satisfactory either to themselves or to the

masses, it must not be supposed that the denial of immortality to man

involved the total extinction of conscious vitality. Neither the people

nor the leaders of religious thought ever faced the possibility of the

total annihilation of what once was called into existence. Death was a

passage to another kind of life, and the denial of immortality merely

emphasized the impossibility of escaping the change in existence brought

about by death. The gods alone do not pass from one phase of existence

to the other. Death was mysterious, but not more mysterious than life.

The Babylonian religion does not transcend the stage of belief,

characteristic of primitive culture everywhere, which cannot conceive of

the possibility of life coming to an absolute end. Life of some kind and

in some form was always presupposed. So far as man was concerned,

created by some god,--Bel, Ea, Aruru, or Ishtar, according to the

various traditions that were current,[1112]--no divine fiat could wipe

out what was endowed with life and the power of reproduction.

No doubt, the impossibility for the individual to conceive of himself as

forever deprived of consciousness, was at the bottom of the primitive

theory of the perpetuity of existence in some form. Among ancient

religions, Buddhism alone frees itself from this theory and unfolds a

bold doctrine of the possibility of a complete annihilation. The

question, however, whether the continuity of existence was a blessing or

a curse was raised by many ancient nations. The Babylonians are among

these who are inclined to take a gloomy view of the passage from this

world to the existence in store for humanity after death, and the

religious leaders were either powerless or disinclined to controvert

this view.

Location and Names of the Gathering Place of the Dead.

We have already had occasion[1113] to refer to the great cave underneath

the earth in which the dead were supposed to dwell, and since the earth

itself was regarded as a mountain, the cave is pictured as a hollow

within, or rather underneath, a mountain. A conception of this kind must

have arisen among a people that was once familiar with a mountainous

district. The settlers of the Euphrates Valley brought the belief with

them from an earlier mountain home. The cave, moreover, points to

cave-dwelling and to cave-burial as conditions that prevailed at one

time among the populace, precisely as the imitation of the mountain with

its caves in the case of the Egyptian pyramids, is due to similar

influences. To this cave various names are assigned in the literature of

the Babylonians,--some of popular origin, others reflecting scholastic

views. The most common name is Aralu.[1114] We also find the term 'house

of Aralu.'[1115] The etymology of the term is obscure. Aralu was

pictured as a vast place, dark and gloomy. It is sometimes called a

land, sometimes a great house. The approach to it was difficult. It lay

in the lowest part of the mountain that represented the earth, not far

from the hollow underneath the mountain into which the 'Apsu' flowed.

Surrounded by seven walls and strongly guarded, it was a place to which

no living person could go and from which no mortal could ever depart

after once entering it. To Aralu all went whose existence in this world

had come to an end. Another name which specifies the relationship of

Aralu to the world is Ekur or 'mountain house' of the dead. Ekur is one

of the names for the earth,[1116] but is applied more particularly to

that part of the mountain, also known as Kharsag[1117]-kurkura, _i.e._,

'the mountain of all lands' where the gods were born. Before the later

speculative view was developed, according to which the gods, or most of

them, have their seats in heaven,[1118] it was on this mountain also

that the gods were supposed to dwell. Hence Ekur became also one of the

names for temple,[1119] as the seat of a god. The dwelling of the dead

was regarded as a part of the 'great mountain.' It belonged to Ekur, and

the fact that it was designated simply as Ekur,[1120] is a valuable

indication that the dead were brought into close association with the

gods. This association is also indicated by the later use of Aralu as

the designation of the mountain within which the district of the dead,

Aralu proper, lay[1121]--synonymous, therefore, with Ekur. We shall see

in the course of this chapter that the dead are placed even more than

the living under the direct supervision of the gods.

A third name for the nether world which conveys an important addition to

the views held regarding the dead, was Shualu. Jensen, it is true,

following Bertin, questions the existence of this term in

Babylonian,[1122] but one does not see how the evidence of the passages

in the lexicographical tablets can be set aside in the way that he

proposes. Zimmern[1123] does not appear to be convinced by Jensen's

arguments and regards the question as an open one. Jensen's method of

disposing of Shualu, besides being open to serious objections, fails to

account for the fact that Shualu is brought into association with

various Babylonian terms and ideographs for the grave.[1124] This cannot

be accidental. That the term has hitherto been found only in

lexicographical tablets need not surprise us. Aralu, too, is of rare

occurrence in the religious texts. The priests appear to avoid the names

for the nether world, which were of ill omen, and preferred to describe

the place by some epithet, as 'land without return,' or 'dark dwelling,'

or 'great city,' and the like. Of such descriptive terms we have a large

number.[1125] The stem underlying Shualu signifies 'to ask.' Shualu is a

place of inquiry,[1126] and the inquiry meant is of the nature of a

religious oracle. The name, accordingly, is an indication of the power

accorded to the dead, to aid the living by furnishing them with answers

to questions, just as the gods furnish oracles through the mediation of

the priests.[1127] The Old Testament supplies us with an admirable

illustration of the method of obtaining oracles through the dead. Saul,

when he desires to know what the outcome of a battle is to be, seeks out

a sorceress, and through her calls up the dead Samuel[1128] and puts the

question to him. Similarly, in the Gilgamesh epic, the hero, with the

aid of Nergal, obtains a sight of Eabani[1129] and plies him with

questions. The belief, therefore, in this power of the dead was common

to Babylonians and Hebrews, and, no doubt, was shared by other branches

of the Semites. It is natural, therefore, to find the Babylonian term

Shualu paralleled by the Hebrew Sheol, which is the common designation

in the Old Testament for the dwelling-place of the dead.[1130] How

widespread the custom was among Babylonians of inquiring 'through the

living of the dead'[1131] it is difficult, in default of satisfactory

evidence, to say. The growing power of the priests as mediators between

men and gods must have acted as a check to such practices. The priests,

as the inquirers,[1132] naturally proceeded direct to the particular god

whose representative they claimed to be, and the development of an

elaborate ceremonial in the temples in connection with the oracles[1133]

was a further factor that must have influenced the gradual abandonment

of the custom, at least as an element of the _official_ cult. Moreover,

the belief itself belongs in the domain of ancestor worship, and in

historical times we find but little trace of such worship among the

Babylonians. We may, therefore, associate the custom with the earliest

period of the Babylonian religion. This view carries with it the

antiquity of the term Shualu. Like Aralu and the designation Ekur, it

embodies the close association of the dead with the gods. The dead not

only dwell near the gods, but, like the gods, they can direct the

affairs of mankind. Their answers to questions put to them have divine

justification. From this view of the dead to the deification of the

latter is but a short step. It does not, of course, follow, from the

fact that Shualu or Sheol is the place of 'oracles,' that all the dead

have the power to furnish oracles or can be invoked for this purpose.

Correspondingly, if we find that the Babylonians did deify their dead,

it does not mean that at one time all the dead were regarded as gods.

Popular legends are concerned only with the heroes, with the popular

favorites--not with the great masses. Eabani, who appears to Gilgamesh,

is a hero, and so is Samuel. As a matter of fact, we have so far only

found evidence that the ancient rulers whose memory lingered in the

minds of the people were regarded by later generations as gods. So the

names of Dungi and Gudea[1134] are written on tablets that belong to the

centuries immediately following their reign, with the determinative that

is placed before the names of gods. Festivals were celebrated in honor

of these kings, sacrifices were offered to them, and their images were

placed in temples.[1135] Again, Gimil-Sin (c. 2500 B.C.), of the second

dynasty of Ur, appears to have been deified during his lifetime, and

there was a temple in Lagash which was named after him.[1136] No doubt

other kings will be found who were similarly honored. We may expect to

come across a god Hammurabi some day. Gilgamesh is, as we have seen, a

historical personage whose career has been so thoroughly amalgamated

with nature-myths that he ends by becoming a solar deity who is invoked

in incantations.

The tendency to connect legendary and mythical incidents with ancient

rulers is part and parcel of this process of deification. Of an ancient

king, Sargon,[1137] a story was related how he was exposed in a boat,

and, 'knowing neither father nor mother,' was found by a ferryman. The

exploits of this king and of his successor, Naram-Sin, were incorporated

in an omen text[1138]--a circumstance that again illustrates how the

popular fancy connected the heroes of the past with its religious

interests. Still, there is no more reason to question the historical

reality of Sargon[1139] than to question the existence of Moses, because

a story of his early youth is narrated in Exodus[1140] which forms a

curious parallel to the Sargon legend, or to question the existence of a

personage by the name of Abraham, because an Abrahamitic cult arose that

continues to the present day.[1141]

This close association of the dead with the gods, upon which the

deification of the dead rests, may be regarded as a legacy of the

earliest period of the Babylonian religion, of the time when the

intercourse between the gods and the living was also direct. The belief

and rites connected with the dead constitute the most conservative

elements in the religion of a people. The organized cult affects the

living chiefly. So far as the latter are concerned, the rise of a

priesthood to whom the religious needs of the people are entrusted,

removes the living from that immediate contact with the gods which we

note in the traditions of every people regarding the beginnings of

mankind. The priests have no power over the dead. The dead require no

'mediator.' Hence, those who dwell in Aralu return to the early state of

mankind when gods and mankind 'walked together.'

Another name that is of frequent occurrence in religious texts is

Kigallu, which describes the nether world as a district of great extent,

situated within the earth.[1142] The chief goddess of the nether world

is commonly known as the 'queen of Kigallu.' Furthermore, Irkalla, which

was interpreted by the Babylonian theologians as 'great city' (or

'district'), is used both as a designation for the dwelling-place of the

dead and for the consort of the queen of Aralu.[1143]

Beside the names for the nether world above discussed, a large number of

epithets and metaphors are found in the religious texts. The place to

which the dead go is called the 'dark dwelling,' 'the land from which

there is no return,' 'house of death,' 'the great city,' 'the deep

land,' and, since Nergal, the ruler of the lower world, was the patron

of the city Cuthah[1144] (or Kutu), the name Cuthah was also used as a

designation for Aralu. Lastly, it is interesting to note that in

poetical usage the words for 'grave'[1145] were also employed to

describe the nether world. The question raised by this metaphor as to

the relationship between the grave and the lower world can best be

discussed when we come to consider the funeral rites.[1146]

The Condition of the Dead and the Impossibility of an Escape from Aralu.

Among the remains of Babylonian literature there is a remarkable

production, which furnishes us with an admirable view of the fate in

store for those who have left this world.[1147] The composition is based

upon a nature-myth, symbolizing the change of seasons. Ishtar, the great

mother goddess, the goddess of fertility who produces vegetation, is, as

we saw in the Gilgamesh epic,[1148] also the one who brings about the

decline of vegetation. The change in nature that takes place after the

summer solstice is passed and the crops have ripened was variously

interpreted. According to one, and, as it would seem, the favorite,

tradition, the goddess is represented as herself destroying the solar

deity, Tammuz, whom she had chosen as a consort. Repentant and weeping,

Ishtar passes to the lower world in search of her youthful husband,--the

symbol of the sun on its approach to the summer solstice. While Ishtar

is in the lower world, all fertility ceases, in the fields, as well as

in the animal kingdom. At last Ishtar reappears, and nature is joyous

once more. In the Semitic Orient there are only two seasons:[1149]

winter, or the rainy season, and summer, or the dry season. The myth

was, therefore, a symbol of the great contrast that the two seasons

presented to one another. Under various forms and numerous disguises, we

find the myth among several branches of the Semites, as well as in Egypt

and among Aryans who came into contact with Semitic ideas.[1150] A

festival celebrated in honor of Tammuz by the Babylonians is one

expression of many that the myth received. The designation of the sixth

month as "the mission of Ishtar"[1151] is another. This myth was adapted

by the theologians to illustrate the doctrines that were developed

regarding the kind of existence led by the dead. The literary method

adopted is the same that characterizes the elaboration of the Adapa myth

and of the myths incorporated into the Gilgamesh epic. The story forms

the point of departure, but its original purport is set aside to a

greater or less degree, necessary modifications are introduced, and the

moral or lesson is distinctly indicated. In the case of the production

that we are about to consider, the story of Ishtar's visit to the nether

world is told--perhaps by a priest--to a person who seeks consolation. A

dear relative has departed this life, and a survivor,--a brother,

apparently,--is anxious to know whether the dead will ever come back

again. The situation reminds one of Gilgamesh seeking out Eabani,[1152]

with this difference: that, whereas Gilgamesh, aided by Nergal, is

accorded a sight of his friend, the ordinary mourner must content

himself with the answer given to him. But what Gilgamesh is not

permitted to hear,[1153] the mourner is told. A description is given him

of how the dead fare in Aralu.

The problem, however, is somewhat different in the story of the descent

of Ishtar, from the one propounded in the twelfth tablet of the

Gilgamesh epic. The question uppermost in the mind of the mourner is

"Will the dead return?" The condition of the dead, which is most

prominent in Gilgamesh's mind, is secondary. Both questions, however,

are answered, and both answers are hopelessly sad. The nether world is

joyless. Even the goddess Ishtar is badly treated upon entering it. The

place is synonymous with inactivity and decay; and, though the goddess

returns, the conclusion drawn is that the exception proves the

inexorable rule. A goddess may escape, but mortals are doomed to

everlasting sojourn, or rather imprisonment, in the realm presided over

by Allatu and her consort Nergal. The tale begins with a description of

the land to which Ishtar proceeds:

To the land whence there is no return, the land of darkness (?)[1154]

Ishtar, the daughter of Sin, turned her mind,

The daughter of Sin turned her mind;

To the house of darkness, the dwelling of Irkalla,

To the house whence no one issues who has once entered it.

To the road from which there is no return, when once it has been

trodden.

To the house whose inhabitants[1155] are deprived of light.

The place where dust is their[1156] nourishment, their food clay.

They[1157] have no light, dwelling in dense darkness.

And they are clothed like birds, in a garment of feathers;

Where over gate and bolt, dust is scattered.

Ishtar, it will be observed, is here called the daughter of the

moon-god, whereas in the Gilgamesh epic she appears as the daughter of

Anu, the god of heaven. Both designations reflect the views developed in

the schools, and prove that the story has been produced under scholastic

influences. The goddess has her place in the heavens, in the planet

bearing her name, and the designation of this planet as the daughter of

Sin can only be understood in connection with the astronomical system,

in which the moon plays so prominent a role[1158] and becomes the father

of all the great gods (except Shamash) who constitute the lesser

luminaries of the night.

Irkalla is one of the names[1159] for a god of the nether world, who is

regarded as the associate of Allatu. The dwelling is elsewhere spoken of

as a 'great palace' in which Allatu and her consort Nergal have their

thrones. A gloomier place than the one described in these opening lines

of the story cannot well be imagined. The picture reflects the popular

views, and up to this point, the doctrines of the school are in

agreement with the early beliefs. The description of the lower world is

evidently suggested by the grave or the cave in which the dead were

laid. The reference to dust and clay as the food of the dead shows that

the doctrine taught in the Gilgamesh epic,[1160] of man's being formed

of clay and returning to clay, was the common one. This view helps us to

understand how the words for grave came to be used as synonyms for the

nether world. The dead being placed below the earth, they were actually

conveyed within the realm of which Aralu was a part, and since it became

customary for the Babylonians to bury their dead together, the cities of

the dead that thus arose could easily be imagined to constitute the

kingdom presided over by Allatu and Nergal. At this point, however, the

speculations of the schools begin to diverge from the popular notions.

We may well question whether the Babylonian populace ever attempted to

make clear to itself in what form the dead continued their existence. It

may be that the argument from dreams, as the basis for the primitive

belief in the continuation of life, in some form, after death has been

too hard pressed,[1161] but certainly the appearance of the dead in the

dreams of the living must have produced a profound impression, and since

the dead appeared in the same form that they had while alive, the

conclusion was natural that, even though the body decayed, a vague

outline remained that bore the same relation to the _corpus_ as the

shadow to the figure casting it. Two remarkable chapters in the Old

Testament[1162] illustrate this popular view prevailing in Babylonia, as

to the condition of the dead in the nether world. The prophets Isaiah

and Ezekiel both portray the dead as having the same form that they

possessed while alive. The kings have their crowns on their heads; the

warriors lie with their swords girded about them. The dead Eabani, it

will be recalled, appears to Gilgamesh and is at once recognized by the

latter. What distinguishes the dead from the living is their inactivity.

They lie in Aralu without doing anything. Everything there is in a state

of neglect and decay. The dead can speak, but the Babylonians probably

believed, like the Hebrews, that the dead talk in whispers, or chirp

like birds.[1163] The dead are weak,[1164] and, therefore, unless others

attend to their needs, they suffer pangs of hunger, or must content

themselves with 'dust and clay' as their food. Tender care during the

last moments of life was essential to comparative well-being in

Aralu.[1165] The person who goes to Aralu in sorrow and neglect will

continue sorrowful and neglected.

The theologians, while accepting these views in general, passed beyond

them in an important particular. They could not reconcile the evident

dissolution of the body with a continuation of even a shadowy outline.

When a man died, the 'spirit,' which, according to the animistic theory,

lodged somewhere within the body and produced the manifestations of

life, sought for refuge in some other substance. The ease with which

birds moved from one place to another suggested these beings as the ones

in which the dislodged spirit found a home. The Babylonian thinkers were

not alone in developing the view that the dead assumed the form of

birds. Parallels to the pictures of the dead in the story of Ishtar's

descent may be found in Egypt and elsewhere.[1166] But what is important

for our purposes is the consideration that, in Babylonia at least, the

view in question is not the popular one, but the result of speculations

about a problem that appeals only to those who make the attempt, at

least, to clarify their ideas regarding the mystery of death. The next

section of the story affords us a picture of the entrance to Aralu:

When Ishtar arrived at the gate of the land without return,

She spoke to the watchman of the gate:

Ho! watchman--open thy gate.

Open thy gate that I may enter.

If thou dost not open the gate, if thou refusest me admission,

I will smash the door, break the bolt.

I will smash the threshold, force open the portals.

I will raise up the dead to eat the living

Until the dead outnumber the living.

The entrance to the nether world is strongly guarded. From other sources

we learn that there was a 'spy'--perhaps identical with the

watchman--stationed at the portal of the lower world, who reports all

happenings to the queen Allatu through Namtar, the god (or spirit) of

pestilence. The watchman is to prevent the living from entering, and

also the dead from escaping.

The violence of Ishtar is an interesting touch in the narrative. As a

goddess, she resents any opposition to her desires. Her anxiety to enter

Aralu indicates that the original form of the myth, which must have

represented the descent as forced and not voluntary, has been modified

by the introduction of a new factor,--the search for her dead consort,

Tammuz. The character of Ishtar as the goddess of war[1167] may also

have influenced this portrayal of her rage. In her violence, she

threatens a conflict between the dead and the living. The former will

destroy[1168] the latter, as a victorious army butchers the hostile

host. The watchman endeavors to pacify the enraged Ishtar:

The watchman opened his mouth and spoke.

Spoke to the great Ishtar:

Hold, O mistress, do not destroy them.[1169]

I will go and mention thy name to the queen Allatu.

Allatu is grieved upon hearing the news of Ishtar's arrival, for

Ishtar's disappearance from the world means death.

I must weep for the masters who forsake their consorts.

I must weep for the wives who are torn from their husbands' side.

For the children I must weep who are snatched away (?) before their

time.

Go, watchman, open thy gate.

Deal with her according to the ancient laws.

The scene that follows embodies, again, views of the nether world as

developed in the schools. Corresponding to the seven zones surrounding

the earth,[1170] the nether world is pictured as enclosed by seven

gates. Through these Ishtar must pass, before she is ushered into the

presence of Allatu.

The watchman went and opened his gate.

Enter, O mistress, welcome in Cuthah.[1171]

The great house[1172] of the land without return greets thee.[1173]

Through the first gate he led her, and boldly removed the great crown

from her head.

Why, O watchman, dost thou remove the great crown from my head?

Enter, O mistress, such are the laws of Allatu.

At the second gate, he removes the earrings of the goddess; at the

third, her necklace is taken away, and, similarly, at each succeeding

gate, a portion of her dress, the ornaments on her breast, her belt of

precious stones, her bracelets, until, when the seventh gate is reached,

the covering over her loins is removed, and she stands naked before

Allatu. At each gate Ishtar asks the same question, why the watchman

strips her, and the same answer is given.

The removal of one ornament after the other symbolizes, evidently, the

gradual decay of vegetation, not, as has been supposed, that the dead

enter Aralu naked.

Allatu calls upon her messenger, Namtar, to strike the goddess with

disease in all parts of her body. The disease expresses the same idea as

the removal of the ornaments,--decay of strength. There follows a

description of the desolation on earth during Ishtar's sojourn with

Allatu. Productivity comes to a standstill.

The ox does not mount the cow, the ass does not bend over the she-ass.

Among mankind, likewise, fertility ceases. The gods lament the absence

of Ishtar and the fate that overtook her. The astronomical conception of

Ishtar as the planet Venus, at this point, is apparent. The gods

complain.

Ishtar has descended to the earth, and has not come up.

As a planet, Ishtar's seat is in the heavens. The disappearance of the

planet has been combined with the nature-myth of the decay of

vegetation. As the evening star, Venus dips down into the west, to

reappear after a long interval in the east. The astral character of

Ishtar dominates the latter half of the story in its present form. It is

not the goddess of love and fertility nor the goddess of war who is

rescued from her prison by Ea, but the planet Ishtar. Shamash is

informed of the disaster by his servant, Pap-sukal.[1174] The sun-god

proceeds for aid to Sin and Ea. The latter furnishes relief. The sun

enters Ea's domain every evening, and, since it is in the west that the

planet sinks like the sun, the association of ideas becomes apparent

which suggests Ea as the savior and the sun as the mediator.

Ea created in his wisdom a male being.

He formed Uddushu-namir, a divine servant.

Go, Uddushu-namir, to the gate of the land without return, turn thy

face.

The seven gates of the land without return will be opened before thee.

Allatu will see thee and welcome thee

After her heart is pacified, her spirit[1175] brightened.

Invoke against her the name of the great gods.

Raise thy countenance, to Sukhal-ziku direct thy attention.

Come, mistress, grant me Sukhal-ziku, that I may drink[1176]

therefrom.

Ea appears here again in the role of Creator.[1177] The name of the

mysterious being created by Ea signifies 'renewal of light.' The

incident, it will be seen, is wholly symbolical. A touch of mysticism

has also been introduced. Sukhal-ziku is a compound of a word meaning

'to sprinkle' and another which may mean 'grotto.'[1178] Sukhal-ziku

appears, therefore, to be the name for a mysterious fountain, the waters

of which restore the dead to life.

Uddushu-namir having pronounced the name of the gods before Allatu, and

having thus secured their aid, his request is in the nature of an order.

But the request must not be interpreted literally, as though the waters

were intended for him. It is for the sake of Ishtar that he desires to

have the use of Sukhal-ziku. Allatu understands Uddushu-namir's speech

in this sense, and is enraged at the order to yield up Ishtar.

Allalu, upon hearing this,

Smote her sides and bit her finger.[1179]

Thou hast demanded of me a request that should not be requested.

Come, Uddushu-namir, I will curse thee with a terrible curse.

Food from the gutters of the city be thy nourishment.

The sewers (?) of the city be thy drink.

The shadow of the wall be thy seat.

The threshold be thy dwelling.

Exile and banishment break thy strength.

The force of the curse lies in the closing words. Uddushu-namir is to be

an outcast. He will not be permitted to enter either city or house, but

must remain at the wall or stop at the threshold. Properly prepared food

and drink are to be denied him. He shall starve or perish miserably.

But the mission of Uddushu-namir has been accomplished. Allatu may curse

as she pleases; the order of Ea must be obeyed.

The goddess Allalu opened her mouth and spoke.

To Namtar, her messenger, she addressed an order:

Go, Namtar, smash the true palace.[1180]

Break down the threshold, destroy the door-posts (?).

Bring out the Anunnaki and place them on golden thrones.

Besprinkle Ishtar with the waters of life and take her from me.

Namtar obeys the order. Ishtar is led through the seven gates. At each

one, the articles taken from her on her entrance are returned: at the

first, the loin cloth; at the second, the bracelets and ankle rings, and

so on, until she emerges in her full beauty.

The close of the story thus brings to our gaze once more Ishtar as

goddess of fertility, who gradually brings vegetation, strength, and

productivity back again. This curious mixture in the story of the astral

Ishtar,--the creation of the astronomers,--and the popular Ishtar, is a

trait which shows how the old nature-myth has been elaborated in passing

through the hands of the _literati_. The various steps in the process

can still be seen. In the original form, the goddess must have been

forced into an exile to the nether world, the exile symbolizing the

wintry season when fertility and productivity[1181] come to an end.

Ishtar is stripped of her glory. She comes to Allatu, who grieves at her

approach, but imprisons her in the 'great house,' and refuses to yield

her up, until forced to do so by order of the gods. A similar story must

have been told of Tammuz, the sun-god, who is also the god of

vegetation. The two stories were combined. Ishtar marries Tammuz, and

then destroys him. The goddess produces fertility, but cannot maintain

it. Tammuz goes to the nether world. Ishtar repents, bewails her loss,

and goes to seek for her consort and to rescue him. In rage she advances

to Allatu, threatens to smash the door and break the lock unless

admitted. The story in this form must have ended in the restoration of

Tammuz. The identification of Ishtar with the planet Venus introduced a

new factor. The disappearance of the planet fitted in well with the

original nature-myth. The combination of the Ishtar-Tammuz story with

this factor resulted in the tale as we have it now. The enraged Ishtar

is the one who seeks for her consort. The Ishtar who is forced to give

up her ornaments is the old goddess who falls into the hands of Allatu.

During her absence, production comes to a standstill; decay sets in. The

Ishtar who is rescued by Ea through the mediation of the 'Renewal of

Light' is the astral Ishtar, as developed by the astronomers, and,

finally, the Ishtar who receives her ornaments back again and comes to

the upper world, is once more the goddess of vegetation, rescued from

her exile to new glory. Up to this point, Tammuz has not been mentioned

in the story. In the advice, however, that is given at the conclusion of

the tale to mourners, the consort of Ishtar is introduced.

If she[1182] will not grant her redemption,[1183] turn to her[1184]

[thy countenance?]

To Tammuz, her youthful consort,

Pour out pure waters, costly oil [offer him?].

The mourners are furthermore instructed to institute a formal

lamentation. The Ukhati,[1185] the priestesses of Ishtar, are to sing

dirges; flutes are to accompany the song. The thought intended,

apparently, to be conveyed is that if Allatu will not give up the dead,

the surviving relatives should endeavor to secure the good grace of

Ishtar and Tammuz, who succeeded in subduing Allatu.

The closing lines are rendered obscure by a reference to the goddess

Belili, who appears to be the sister of Tammuz. The reference assumes

the knowledge of a tale in which the goddess was represented as breaking

a costly vessel adorned with precious stones, in sign of her grief for

the lost Tammuz. Suitable mourning for Tammuz, therefore, will secure

the sympathy of Belili also. The story thus ends with a warning to all

who mourn for their dead to remember Tammuz, to observe the rites set

aside for the festival celebrated in his honor.

Bearing in mind the tentative character of any interpretation for the

closing lines, we may mention Jeremias'[1186] supposition that it is a

deceased sister who addresses her sorrowing brother at the end of the

story.

My only brother, let me not perish.

On the day of Tammuz, play for me on the flute of lapis lazuli,

together with the lyre[1187] of pearl play for me.

Together let the professional dirge singers, male and female, play

for me,

That the dead may arise and inhale the incense of offerings.

The lines impress one as snatches from a dirge, sung or recited in

memory of the dead, and introduced here as an appropriate illustration

of the conclusion to be drawn from the tale. At all events, the

consolation that the mourner receives lies in this thought,--the dead

can hear the lamentation. The survivors are called upon not to forget

the dead. When the festival of Tammuz comes, let them combine with the

weeping for the god, a dirge in memory of the dead. Let them pray to

Ishtar and Tammuz. If remembered by the living, the dead will at least

enjoy the offerings made to them, regain, as it were, a temporary sense

of life; but more cannot with certainty be hoped for.

The outlook for the dead, it will be seen, is not hopeful. Their

condition is at best a tolerable one. What we may glean from other

sources but confirms the general impression, conveyed by the opening and

closing lines of the Ishtar story, or makes the picture a still gloomier

one. The day of death is a day of sorrow, 'the day without mercy.' The

word for corpse conveys the idea that things have 'come to an end.'

Whenever death is referred to in the literature, it is described as an

unmitigated evil. A dirge introduced into an impressive hymn to

Nergal[1188] laments the fate of him who

... has descended to the breast of the earth,

Satiated,[1189] [he has gone] to the land of the dead.

Full of lament on the day that he encountered sorrow,

In the month which does not bring to completion the year,[1190]

On the road of destruction for mankind,

To the wailing-place (?),

The hero [has gone], to the distant invisible land.

We must not be misled by an epithet bestowed upon several gods, Marduk,

Ninib, and Gula, of 'the restorer of the dead to life,' into the belief

that the dead could be brought back from Aralu. These epithets appear

chiefly in incantations and hymns addressed to the gods for some

specific purpose, such as deliverance of a sufferer from disease. The

gods are appealed to against the demons, whose grasp means death. Ninib

and Gula are viewed as gods of healing.[1191] To be cured through their

aid was to be snatched from the jaws of death. Moreover, Ninib and

Marduk, as solar deities, symbolize the sun of spring, which brings

about the revivification of nature. The return of vegetation suggests

the thought that Ninib and Marduk have filled with new life what

appeared to be dead. The trees that seemed entirely dead blossom forth;

the bare earth is covered with verdure. Similarly, the suffering

individual stricken with disease could be awakened to new life. It is

this 'restoration' which lies in the power of the gods, but once a man

has been carried off to Aralu, no god can bring him back to this earth.

An apparent exception to the rule, according to which all mankind

eventually comes to Aralu, is formed by Parnapishtim and his wife, who

dwell in a place vaguely described as 'distant,' situated at the

'confluence of the streams.' The place, as was pointed out in a previous

chapter,[1192] lies in the vicinity of the Persian Gulf, and, since it

can only be reached by water, the natural conclusion is that it is an

island. The temptation is strong to compare the dwelling of Parnapishtim

with the belief found among the Greeks and other nations, of 'an island

of the blessed.' This has been done by Jeremias[1193] and others.

However, we must bear in mind that the point in Parnapishtim's narrative

is that he and his wife do _not die_. They are removed to the distant

place by the gods and continue to live there. Again, we do not learn of

any other person who inhabits this island. If to these considerations we

add, that the name Parnapishtim signifies 'offspring of life,' that his

wife's name is not mentioned, that we are not told what becomes of his

family and servants, who are also saved from the deluge, it is evident

that the incident of Parnapishtim's escape is an allegory, introduced

into the story as a dramatic means of teaching the doctrine which we

have seen dominates the tale,--that man, ordinarily, cannot secure

immortal life.

If there is any connection between the island where Parnapishtim dwells

and the Greek conception of 'an island of the blessed,' it is a trace of

foreign influence in Babylonian mythology. There is nothing to show that

among the Babylonians, either among the populace or in the schools, a

belief arose in a 'paradise' whither privileged persons were transported

after death, nor is any distinction made by them between the good and

the bad, so far as the future habitation is concerned. All mankind,

kings and subjects, virtuous and wicked, go to Aralu. Those who have

obtained the good will of the gods receive their reward in this world,

by a life of happiness and of good health. The gods can ward off

disease, or, rather, since disease (as all ills and misfortunes) is a

punishment sent by some god or demon, forgiveness can be secured, the

proof of which will consist in the restoration of the sick to health,

but the moment that death ensues the control of the gods ends. To the

Babylonians, the words of the Psalmist,[1194] "who praises thee, O God,

in Sheol?" came home with terrible force. They expressed, admirably, the

Babylonian view of the limitations of divine power. The dead do not

praise the gods, simply because it would be useless. The concern of the

gods is with the living.

We are fortunate in possessing a pictorial representation of the nether

world that confirms the view to be derived from a study of the religious

literature. A number of years ago, Clermont-Ganneau directed attention

to a remarkable bronze tablet which was purchased at Hamath in northern

Syria.[1195] The art was clearly Babylonian, and there was no reason to

question the genuineness of the production. Quite recently a duplicate

has been found at Zurghul, in Babylonia,[1196] so that all suspicions

are removed. The bronze tablet contains on the one side, the figure of a

monster with a lion-like face and body, but provided with huge wings.

Standing erect, his head rises above the tablet, his fore legs rest on

the edge, and the demon is thus represented in the attitude of looking

over to the other side of the tablet. At the side of the monster, are

two heads of hideous appearance.

The illustrations on the reverse are devoted to a portrayal of a funeral

ceremony, and of the general aspects of the nether world. There are five

distinct divisions,[1197] marked off from one another by four heavy

lines drawn across the tablet. In the first division appear the symbols

of the chief gods of the Assyrian pantheon, Marduk, Nabu, Sin, Ishtar,

Shamash, Ramman, etc.[1198] These gods, as inhabiting the heaven, are

placed at the head of the tablet. Next come seven evil spirits figured

as various animals,[1199] who, as inferior to the gods, and perhaps also

as messengers of the latter, are assigned a place midway between heaven

and earth. In the third section, there is pictured the funeral ceremony

proper. A dead body lies on a couch. Two rather strange figures, but

apparently priests, have taken up a position, one at each end of the

funeral bier, performing some rite of purification. One of the priests

has a robe of fish scales and is bearded; the other is smooth-faced and

clothed in a long garment. Censers are placed near the priests. The

latter appear at the same time to be protecting the body against two

demons whose threatening gestures suggest that they are endeavoring to

secure possession of the dead.[1200] These demons may be the special

messengers of the gods of the nether world, who have brought about the

death of their victim. Below this scene, we come to a view of the nether

world. The division is much larger than any of the others. Two hideous

figures dominate the scene, both of fantastic shape, and evidently so

portrayed as to suggest the horror of the nether world. One of these

figures[1201] stands erect in a menacing attitude; the other is resting

in a kneeling position on a horse.[1202] The second figure is a

representation of the chief goddess of the nether world--Allatu. The

demon at her side would then be the special messenger of this goddess,

Namtar. The goddess has her two arms extended, in the act of strangling

a serpent. The act symbolizes her strength. Her face is that of a

lioness, and she is suckling two young lions at her breasts. If it be

recalled that Nergal, the chief god of the lower world, is also pictured

as a lion,[1203] it seems but natural to conclude that the monster

covering the one side of the tablet is none other than the consort of

Allatu, the heads on either side of him representing his attendants. At

the left side of Allatu are a series of objects,--a jar, bowl, an

arrowhead (?), a trident, which, as being buried with the dead, are

symbols of the grave. The goddess and the demon at her side direct their

gaze towards these objects.

The nether world reaches down to the Apsu,--the 'deep' that flows

underneath the earth. This is indicated in the design by placing the

horse, on which the goddess rests, in a bark. The bark, again, is of

fantastic shape, the one end terminating in the head of a serpent, the

other in that of some other animal,--perhaps a bull. The bark reaches

into the fifth division,[1204] which is a picture of flowing water with

fish swimming from the left to the right, as an indication of the

direction in which the water flows. At the verge of the water stand two

trees.[1205] What these trees symbolize is not known, and there are

other details in the third and fourth sections that still escape us. For

our purposes, it is sufficient to note: (_a_) that the sections

represent in a general way the divisions of the universe, the heavens,

the atmosphere, the earth, the nether world, and the deep;[1206] (_b_)

that the nether world is in the interior of the earth, reaching down to

Apsu; and (_c_) that this interior is pictured as a place full of

horrors, and is presided over by gods and demons of great strength and

fierceness.

Such being the view of the nether world, it is natural that the living

should regard with dread, not only the place but also its inhabitants.

The gloom that surrounded the latter reacted on their disposition. In

general, the dead were not favorably disposed towards the living, and

they were inclined to use what power they had to work evil rather than

for good. In this respect they resembled the demons, and it is

noticeable that an important class of demons was known by the name

_ekimmu_, which is one of the common terms for the shades of the dead.

This fear of the dead, which is the natural corollary to the reverence

felt for them, enters as an important factor in the honors paid by the

living to the memory of the deceased. To provide the dead with food and

drink, to recall their virtues in dirges, to bring sacrifices in their

honor,--such rites were practised, as much from a desire to secure the

favor of the dead and to ward off their evil designs as from motives of

piety, which, of course, were not absent. The dead who was not properly

cared for by his surviving relatives would take his revenge upon the

living by plaguing them as only a demon could. The demons that infested

graveyards were in some way identified with the 'spirits,' or perhaps

messengers, of the dead, who, in their anger towards the living, lay in

wait for an attack upon those against whom they had a grudge.

The Pantheon of Aralu.

We have seen how the mystery coupled with death led to the view which

brought the dead into more direct relationship with the gods. Closely

allied with this view is the power ascribed to the dead to work evil or

good and, like the gods, to furnish oracles. This power once

acknowledged, it was but a short step to the deification of the dead,

or, rather, of such personalities who in life exercised authority, by

virtue of their position or innate qualities. On the other hand, the

gloominess of the nether world, the sad condition of its inhabitants,

the impossibility of an escape or a return to this world, necessarily

suggested to the Babylonians that the gods worshipped by the living had

no control over the fate of the dead. The gods, to be sure, were at

times wrathful, but, on the whole, they were well disposed towards

mankind. When angry, they could be pacified, and it was impossible to

believe that they should deliberately consign their creatures to such a

sad lot as awaited those who went down to Aralu. The gods who ruled the

dead must be different from those who directed the fate of the living. A

special pantheon for the nether world was thus developed. Such deities

as Marduk, Ea, Nabu, Shamash, or Ashur, who acted, each in his way, as

protectors of mankind, could find no place in this pantheon; but a god

like Nergal, who symbolized the midday sun, and the sun of the summer

solstice that brought misery and fever to the inhabitants of the

Euphrates Valley; Nergal, who became the god of violent destruction in

general, and, more particularly, the god of war, the god whose emblem

was the lion, who was cruel and of forbidding aspect,--such a god was

admirably adapted to rule those who could only look forward to a

miserable imprisonment in a region filled with horror. Nergal,

therefore, became the chief god of the pantheon of the lower world.

In the religious texts, the cruel aspects of this god are almost

exclusively emphasized. He is the one god towards whom no love is felt,

for he is a god without mercy. The fierce aspects of the solar Nergal

are accentuated in Nergal, the chief of the pantheon of Aralu. He

becomes even more ferocious than he already was, as a god of war. His

battle is with all mankind. He is greedy for victims to be forever

enclosed in his great and gloomy domain. Destruction is his one and

single object; nothing can withstand his attack. Armed with a sword, his

favorite time for stalking about is at night, when he strikes his

unerring blows. Horrible demons of pestilence and of all manner of

disease constitute his train, who are sent out by him on missions of

death. The favorite titles by which he is known appear in a hymn[1207]

addressed to him, as god of the lower world. He is invoked as the

Warrior, strong whirlwind, sweeping the hostile land,[1208]

Warrior, ruler of Aralu.

Another hymn[1209] describes him as a

Great warrior who is firm as the earth.

Superior as heaven and earth art thou,

...

What is there in the deep that thou dost not secure?

What is there in the deep that thou dost not clutch?

While references to the local character of the god as patron of Cuthah

survive, the name Cuthah itself becomes synonymous with the nether

world. The old solar deity is completely overshadowed by the terrible

ruler of the lower world. It is due to this that the real consort of the

local Nergal, the goddess Laz, is rarely mentioned in the religious

literature. The priests, when they spoke of Nergal, had in mind always

the companionship with Allatu. But the association of ideas which thus

led to assigning a god who was originally a solar deity, a place in the

lower world bears the impress of the schools. The popular development of

Nergal ceased, when he became the local god of Cuthah. It is only as an

outgrowth of the systematized pantheon that we can understand the

transformation involved in making of a local deity, the head of a

pantheon that is itself an outcome of the later phases assumed by the

religion.

The problem suggested by this transformation was recognized by the

theologians. A curious tale was found among the El-Amarna tablets which

endeavors to account for Nergal's presence in the world of the dead.

Unfortunately, the tablet on which the story is inscribed is so badly

mutilated that we can hardly gather more than the general

outlines.[1210] A conflict has arisen between the gods on high and a

goddess who has her seat in the lower world. This goddess is none other

than Allatu. She is described as Eresh-Kigal,[1211] _i.e._, queen of

Kigal or of the nether world. The scene reminds us of the contest

between the gods and Tiamat, as embodied in the creation epic. The gods

choose Nergal as their leader. Assisted by fourteen companions, whose

names--'fever,' 'fiery heart,' 'lightning sender'--remind us again of

the eleven monsters that constitute Tiamat's assistants,[1212] Nergal

proceeds to the lower world, and knocks at the gate for admission.

Namtar, the plague-demon, acts as the messenger. He announces the

arrival of Nergal to Allatu. The latter is obliged to admit Nergal, just

as in the story of Ishtar's descent, she is forced to receive Ishtar.

Fourteen gates of the lower world are mentioned. At each one, Nergal

stations one of his companions and passes on to the house of Allatu. He

seizes the goddess, drags her from her throne, and is about to kill her

when she appeals for mercy. She breaks out in tears, offers herself in

marriage if Nergal will spare her.

You shall be my husband and I will be your wife.

The tablets of wisdom I will lay in your hands.

You shall be master and I mistress.

Nergal accepts the condition, kisses Allatu, and wipes away her tears.

One cannot resist the conclusion that the tale is, as already suggested,

an imitation of the Marduk-Tiamat episode. Allatu is a female like

Tiamat. Nergal acts for the gods just as Marduk does. The attendants of

Nergal are suggested by the monsters accompanying Tiamat; the tables of

wisdom which Nergal receives, correspond to the tablets of fate which

Marduk snatches from Kingu.[1213] But while the conflict between Marduk

and Tiamat is an intelligible nature-myth, symbolizing the annual

rainstorms that sweep over Babylonia, there is no such interpretation

possible in the contest between Nergal and Allatu. The story is not even

a glorification of a local deity, for Nergal appears solely in the role

of a solar deity. The attendants given to him--heat, lightning, and

disease--are the popular traits in the story; but with the chief

characters in the old nature-myth changed,--Marduk or the original Bel

replaced by Nergal, and Tiamat by Allatu,--the story loses its popular

aspect, and becomes a medium for illustrating a doctrine of the schools.

If this view of the tale be correct, we would incidentally have a proof

(for which there is other evidence) that as early as the fifteenth

century, the Marduk-Tiamat story had already received a definite shape.

But the most valuable conclusion to be drawn from the Nergal-Allatu tale

is that, according to the popular conceptions, the real and older head

of the pantheon of the lower world was a goddess, and not a god.

Allatu takes precedence of Nergal. In the story of Ishtar's descent to

the lower world, a trace of the earlier view survives. Allatu is

introduced as the ruler of the lower world. Nergal plays no part. Viewed

in this light, the design of the tale we have just discussed becomes

still more evident. It was inconsistent with the prominence assigned to

male deities in the systematized pantheon, that the chief deity of the

lower world should be a female. Allatu could not be set aside, for the

belief in her power was too strongly imbedded in the popular mind; but a

male consort could be given her who might rule with her. Another factor

that may have entered into play in the adaptation of the Marduk-Tiamat

story to Nergal and Allatu, and that gave to the adaptation more

plausibility, was the disappearance of the summer sun after he had done

his work. Nergal did not exert his power during the whole year, and even

as the sun of midday, he was not in control all day. When he

disappeared, there was only one place to which he could go.

As of Tarmmuz and of other solar deities,[1214] it was probably related

of Nergal, also, that he was carried to the lower world. This popular

basis for the presence of Nergal in the lower world may have served as a

point of departure for the scholastic development of Nergal. However,

the tale of Nergal and Allatu goes far beyond the length of popular

belief in making Nergal conquer Allatu, and force himself, in a measure,

into her place. Before Nergal appears on the scene, a god, Ninazu, was

regarded as the consort of Allatu.[1215]

The conception which gives the Babylonian Hades a queen as ruler is of

popular origin, in contrast to the scholastic aspect of Nergal as the

later king of the lower region. Jensen is of the opinion that the

feminine gender of the word for earth in Babylonian superinduced the

belief that the ruler of the kingdom situated within the earth was a

woman. Allatu would, according to this view, be a personification of the

'earth.' But a factor that also enters into play is the notion of

productivity and fertility which gave rise to the conception of the

great mother-goddess, Ishtar.[1216] Allatu is correlated to Ishtar. From

the earth comes vegetation. The origin of mankind, too, is traced to the

earth, and to the earth mankind ultimately returns.[1217] Hence, the

receiver of life is a goddess equally with the giver of life, and

indeed, Ishtar and Allatu are but the two aspects of one and the same

phenomenon.[1218] Allatu signifies 'strength.' The name is related to

the Arabic _Allah_ and the Hebrew _Eloah_ and _Elohim_. The same

meaning--strength, power, rule--attaches to many of the names of the

gods of the Semites: Adon, Etana, Baal, El, and the like.[1219] It is

interesting to note that the chief goddess of Arabia is _Allat_[1220]--a

name identical with our Allatu.

The bronze relief above described furnished us with a picture of this

queen of the lower world. The gloom enveloping the region controls this

picture. Allatu is of as forbidding an aspect as Tiamat. She is warlike

and ferocious. When enraged, her anger knows no bounds. Her chief

attendants are the terrible Namtar and a scribe--also a female--known as

Belit-seri. Of these two personages, Namtar, the personification of

disease, is a popular conception, whereas the addition of a scribe

points again to the influence of the schools. Marduk, the chief god of

the living, has a scribe who writes down, at the god's dictation, the

fate decreed for individuals. Corresponding to this, the ruler of the

lower world has a scribe who writes down on the tablets of wisdom the

decrees of the goddess, and, at a later stage, the decrees of Nergal as

well. Belit-seri, whose name signifies 'mistress of the field,' was

originally a goddess of vegetation, some local deity who has been

reduced to the rank of an attendant upon a greater one; and it is

significant that almost all the members of the nether-world pantheon are

in some way connected with vegetation.

Tammuz, of whose position in this pantheon we have already had occasion

to speak, is the god of spring vegetation. Another solar deity,

Nin-gishzida,[1221] who is associated in the Adapa legend with Tammuz,

is the deity who presides over the growth of trees. En-meshara, who also

belongs to the court of Nergal and Allatu, appears to represent

vegetation in general. To these may be added Girra (or Gira), who

originally, as it would appear, a god of vegetation, is eventually

identified with Dibbarra,[1222] Gil, whom Jensen[1223] regards as 'the

god of foliage,' and Belili, the sister of Tammuz.[1224] Of this group

of deities, Tammuz and Nin-gishzida are the most important. In the Adapa

legend, it will be recalled, they are stationed as guardians in heaven.

As solar deities, they properly belong there. Like Nergal, they have

been transferred to the nether world; and in the case of all three, the

process that led to the change appears to have been the same. The trees

blossom, bear fruit, and then decay; the fields are clothed in glory,

and then shorn of their strength. The decay of vegetation was popularly

figured as due to the weakness[1225] of the god who produced the

fertility. Tammuz has been deceived by Ishtar; Nin-gishzida has been

carried off to the lower world. In the month of Tebet,--the tenth

month,--there was celebrated a festival of mourning for the lost

En-meshara. It is the time of the winter solstice. A similar fate must

have overtaken Belit-seri, Girra, and Gil. For a time, at least, they

are hidden in the realm of Allatu. Of all these deities, stories were no

doubt current that formed so many variations of one and the same theme,

symbolizing their disappearance and the hoped-for return, the same story

that we encounter in the myth of Venus and Adonis, in the myth of

Osiris, and, in some guise or other, among many other nations of the

ancient world. Of Girra, it may be well to remember that he is viewed

merely as a form of Nergal in the later texts. Belili, it will be

recalled, is associated with Tammuz in the story of Ishtar's

journey.[1226] She is not, however, the consort of the god, but his

sister. The antiquity of her cult follows from the occurrence of her

name in the list of gods antecedent to Anu,[1227] and where Alala is

entered as her consort. Whatever else the relationship of 'sister' to

Tammuz means, it certainly indicates that Belili belongs to the deities

of vegetation, and it may be that she will turn out to be identical with

Belit-seri, which is merely the designation of some goddess, and not a

real name.[1228] One is inclined also to suspect some, albeit remote,

connection between Alala, the consort of Belili, and the Alallu bird who

is spoken of in the Gilgamesh epic as having been deprived of her

pinions by Ishtar.[1229] In the tale, Tammuz, the Alallu bird, a lion,

and a horse are successively introduced as those once loved and then

deceived by Ishtar. The lion is, as has been several times indicated,

the symbol of Nergal; the horse appears in the Hades relief above

described as the animal upon which Allatu is seated, and it seems

legitimate, therefore, to seek for Alallu also in the nether world.

While it may be that a long process intervened, before such a species of

symbolization was brought about as the representation of an ancient

deity in the guise of a bird, still, if it will be recalled that Zu is a

deity, pictured as a bird,[1230] there is every reason to interpret the

bird Alallu merely as the symbol of some deity, just as the lion is

certainly such a symbol.

Jensen would add Etana to the list of gods of vegetation who form part

of Allatu's court. While the etymology he proposes for the name is not

acceptable, there is no doubt that to Etana, like Gilgamesh, the

character of a solar deity has been imparted. His presence in the nether

world is due to the story of his flight with the eagle and the

fall.[1231] If he falls from heaven, he naturally enters the realm of

Allatu, and it is possible that the story in its original form was

suggested by a myth illustrating the change of seasons. The question,

however, must for the present remain an open one.

A god associated with the nether world who again appears to be a solar

deity is Nin-azu. His name points to his being 'the god of healing.' A

text states[1232] that Allatu is his consort. Such a relationship to the

chief goddess of the nether world may be regarded as a survival of the

period when Nergal had not yet been assigned to this place. The

introduction of a distinctly beneficent god into the pantheon of the

lower world, and as second in rank, shows also that the gloomy

conception of the lower world was one that developed gradually. Tammuz,

Nin-gishzida, and the like are held enthralled by Allatu, and remain in

the nether world against their will; but if Allatu chooses as her

consort a 'god of healing,' she must have been viewed as a goddess who

could at times, at least, be actuated by kindly motives. The phase of

the sun symbolized by Nin-azu is, as in the case of Tammuz and others,

the sun of the springtime and of the morning. If it be recalled that

Gula, the great goddess of healing, is the consort of Ninib,[1233] it

will be clear that Nin-azu must be closely related to Ninib--and is,

indeed, identified with the latter.[1234] With Nergal in control,

Nin-azu had to yield his privilege to be the husband of Allatu. The

substitute of the fierce sun of the summer solstice for the sun of

spring is a most interesting symptom of the direction taken by the

Babylonian beliefs, regarding the fate of the dead. It may be that in

the earlier period, when more optimistic views of Aralu were current,

Gula, who is called the one 'who restores the dead to life,' may have

had a place in the pantheon of the lower world; not that the Babylonians

at any time believed in the return of the dead, but because the living

could be saved from the clutches of death. Ninib and Gula, as gods of

spring, furnished the spectacle of such a miracle in the return of

vegetation. In this sense, we have seen that Marduk, the god of spring,

was also addressed as 'the restorer to life.' But while the

revivification of nature controls the conception of gods of healing,

like Nin-azu, Ninib, and Gula, the extension of the idea would lead,

naturally, to the association of these gods with the ruler of the nether

world, at a time when it was still believed that this ruler could be

moved by appeals to loosen her hold upon those whom she was about to

drag to her kingdom. But it is important always to bear in mind that

beyond this apparent restoration of the dead to life, the Babylonians at

no time went.

In the Ishtar story[1235] a god Irkalla is introduced. Jeremias[1236]

takes this as one of the names of Allatu, but this is unlikely.[1237]

From other sources[1238] we know that Irkalla is one of the names of the

nether world. It is in some way connected with Urugal,[1239] _i.e._,

'great city,' which is also a common designation for the dwelling-place

of the dead. Hence, Irkalla is an epithet describing a deity as 'the god

of the great city.' The Babylonian scholars, who were fond of plays upon

words, brought the name Nergal, as though compounded of Ne-uru-gal

(_i.e._, 'ruler of the great city'), into connection with Uru-gal, and

thus identified Irkalla with Nergal. But, originally, some other god

must have been meant, since Allatu appears as the sole ruler of the

lower world in the Ishtar story, unless, indeed, we are to assume that

the name has been introduced at a late period as a concession to Nergal.

It is more plausible that a god like Nin-azu was understood under 'the

god of the great city.' Besides these gods, there is another series of

beings who belong to Allatu's court,--the demons who are directly

responsible for death in the world. Of this series, Namtar is the chief

and the representative. As the one who gathers in the living to the dark

abode, it is natural that he should be pictured as guardian at the gates

of the great palace of Allatu. But by the side of Namtar stand a large

number of demons, whose task is similar to that of their chief. A

text[1240] calls the entire group of demons,--the demon of wasting

disease, the demon of fever, the demon of erysipelas,[1241] and the

like,--'the offspring of Aralu,' 'the sons and messengers of Namtar, the

bearers of destruction for Allatu.' These demons are sent out from Aralu

to plague the living, but once they have brought their victims to Aralu,

their task is done. They do not trouble the dead. The latter stand, as

we have seen, under the direct control of the gods.[1242]

The story of Ishtar's descent to the lower world[1243] shows us that the

group of spirits known as the Anunnaki, also, belong to the court of

Nergal and Allatu. Ramman-nirari I. already designates the Anunnaki as

belonging to the earth,[1244] though it is an indication of the

vagueness of the notions connected with the group that in hymns, both

the Anunnaki and the Igigi are designated as offspring of Anu,--the god

of heaven.[1245] They are not exclusively at the service of Nergal and

Allatu. Bel, Ninib, Marduk, and Ishtar also send them out on missions.

Evidently, the fact that their chief function was to injure mankind

suggested the doctrine which gave them a place in the lower world with

the demons. The distinction between Anunnaki and the Igigi is not

sharply maintained in the religious literature. Though Ramman-nirari

places the Igigi in heaven, it is not impossible that a later view

transferred them, like the Anunnaki, to the lower world. There were, of

course, some misfortunes that were sent against mankind from on

high--Ramman was a god who required such messengers as the Igigi, and

besides the Igigi, there were other spirits sent out from above. But, as

in the course of time the general doctrine was developed which made the

gods, on the whole, favorably inclined towards man, while the evil was

ascribed to the demons[1246]--as occupying the lower rank of divine

beings--we note the tendency also to ascribe the ills that humanity is

heir to, to the forces that dwell under the earth,--to Nergal and Allatu

and to those who did their bidding. Probably, Lakhmu and Lakhamu were

also regarded, at least by the theologians, as part of Allatu's court,

just as Alala and Belili[1247] were so regarded.

The confusion resulting from the double position of Nergal in the

religious literature, as the deity of the summer solstice and as the

chief of the nether-world pantheon, raises a doubt whether some gods who

are closely associated with Nergal are to be placed on high with the

gods or have their seats below with Nergal. Among these, three require

mention here: Dibbarra, Gibil, and Ishum. Of these, the first two are

directly identified with Nergal in the systematized pantheon[1248],

while Ishum is closely associated with Nergal, or appears as the

attendant of Dibbarra[1249]. These gods, symbolizing violent destruction

through war and fire, are evidently related to the Nergal of the upper

world,--to Nergal, the solar deity; but in the later stages of the

religion, the Nergal of the lower world almost completely sets aside the

earlier conception. It is, therefore, likely that deities who stand so

close to the terrible god as those under consideration, were also

regarded as having a position near his throne in the lower world.

The pantheon of Aralu thus assumes considerable dimensions. At the same

time, we observe the same tendency towards concentration of power in

this pantheon as we have seen was the case in the pantheon of the upper

world[1250]. As in Babylonia there are practically only a few

gods,--Marduk, Nabu, Ishtar, Shamash, and Sin,--who exercised

considerable control; and, as in Assyria we find this tendency still

more accentuated in the supreme rank accorded to Ashur, so in the lower

world Nergal and Allatu are the real rulers. The other gods, and,

naturally, also the demons, occupy inferior positions. As messengers,

guardians, spies, or attendants, they group themselves around the throne

of the two rulers. A noticeable feature, however, in the pantheon of the

lower world consists in the high position held by the consort of the

head of the pantheon. Allatu does not sink to the insignificant rank of

being merely a pale reflection of Nergal, as do the consorts of Marduk,

Shamash, Ashur, and the like[1251]. As a trace of the earlier supreme

control exercised by her, she continues to reign with her husband. In

the popular mind, indeed, despite the influence of theological

doctrines, Allatu continues to be more prominent than Nergal. Nergal is

obliged to abide by the compact he made with Allatu. He rules _with_

her, but not over her. The theology of the schools did not venture to

set Allatu aside altogether; and this limitation in the development of

the doctrine that elsewhere gave the male principle the supremacy over

the female, may be taken as a valuable indication of the

counter-influence, exercised by deeply rooted popular beliefs, over the

theoretical elaboration of the religion at the hands of the religious

guides.

The Tombs and the Burial Customs.

Our knowledge of the customs observed by the Babylonians and Assyrians

in disposing of their dead leaves much to be desired. Most of the graves

discovered in the ruins of Babylonian cities belong to the Persian or to

the Greek period. In some cases,[1252] where we have reason to believe

that older graves have been found, it is almost impossible to estimate

their age. Recently, the expedition of the University of Pennsylvania to

Nippur has unearthed remains that appear to belong to an older period,

though nothing can be dated with any degree of certainty earlier than

2500 B.C.[1253] Still, with proper caution, even the material belonging

to a later period may be used for the older periods. Burial customs, as

has already been emphasized, constitute the most conservative elements

in a religion. Such rites are much less liable to change than the cult

of the gods. Foreign invasion would not affect the funeral rites, even

where other religious customs are altered. Even so violent a change as

that produced by the introduction of Mohammedanism into Mesopotamia has

not removed traces of the old Babylonian religion. Dr. Peters has shown

that the district in the Euphrates Valley selected by the modern Arabs

and Persians for the interment of their dead[1254] derives its sanctity

from the days of the old Babylonian kingdom, and many of the customs

observed by the modern Moslems tally with the funeral rites of ancient

Babylonia.[1255] That the dead were always buried, and that cremation

was practically unknown, may now be regarded as certain. The conception

of Aralu, which, we have seen, belongs to the most ancient period of

religion, is only intelligible upon the assumption that burial was the

prevailing custom. On one of the oldest monuments of Babylonian

art,--the stele of vultures,--earth-burial is represented.[1256] A few

years ago, some German scholars[1257] claimed to have furnished the

proof that the Babylonians cremated their dead. But, in the first place,

the age of the tombs found by them was not clearly established; and,

secondly, it was not certain whether the charred remains of human bodies

were due to intentional burning or accidental destruction by fire, at

the time that the city explored by the German scholars was destroyed.

The fact that, as the explorers themselves observed, the bodies were not

completely burned argues in favor of the latter supposition. The

explanation offered by Koldewey[1258] for this peculiar condition of the

remains--that the burning was symbolical, and, therefore, not

complete--is unsatisfactory in every particular. There can be no doubt

that some, at least, of the tombs discovered at Warka by Loftus[1259]

belong to the period before the conquest of the country by Cyrus, and

this is certainly the case with many of the tombs discovered at Nippur.

Nowhere do we find traces of burning of bodies.[1260] If it should turn

out that cremation prevailed for a certain period, the fashion, we may

feel certain, was due to foreign influences, but it is more than

questionable whether it was ever introduced at all. Certainly,

earth-burial is the characteristically Babylonian (and general Semitic)

method of disposing of the dead.

The characteristic feature of the Babylonian tombs is their simplicity.

The dead body, which was often covered with palm woods, was placed

generally on the side--though occasionally on the back--on a board of

wood, or wrapped in a mat of reeds or palm fibers, and covered with a

tub-shaped clay dish. On the dish there was frequently an ornamental

design, but beyond this, there was no attempt at decoration. The body

was frequently pressed together in order to be brought within the

compass of the dish. Sometimes, the knees were pulled up or the body

placed in a semi-sitting posture, and there are indications that the

bodies were often divided into two or three parts prior to burial. On

the stele of vultures,[1261] representing the triumph of Eannatum over

his enemies, attendants are seen building a mound over the symmetrically

arranged bodies of the king's soldiers slain in battle. The monument

belongs to the most ancient period of Babylonian history, and we are

justified, therefore, in regarding this method of earth-burial as the

oldest in vogue. The dead, it would seem, are placed on the ground, or

near the surface, and covered with a mound. This custom would account

for the use of a dish to cover the body after it became customary to

place the dead in small houses or vaults built for the purpose. The

shape of the dish, or tub, recalls the earth-mound over the dead, and

the tenacity of conventional methods is apparent in the modern custom,

even among Western nations, of raising a mound over the grave, even

though the body is placed at a depth of six feet and more below the

surface. A modification of the form of coffin was the jar into which the

body was forced. To do this, still greater violence had to be employed.

Instead of one jar, two were also used, the body placed partly in one,

partly in the other, and the two were then joined with bitumen. In the

Persian period, a slipper-shaped coffin was used, into which the body

was inserted through an aperture at one end; but there is no evidence

that the Babylonians employed this method. With the bodies, various

objects were interred, many of which had a special significance. Except,

perhaps, at a very early period[1262] the dead were not buried naked,

but covered with a garment. The seal cylinder, which, as Herodotus tells

us,[1263] every person of position carried about his person, and which,

when impressed on a clay tablet, served as his signature, was buried

with the dead as an ornament that had a personal value. The staff which

the man was in the habit of carrying is found in the grave, and also

such weapons as arrowheads and spears. Various ornaments of copper,

iron, gold, and stone, rings, necklaces or bands of gold were probably

placed with the dead as a sign of affection, not because of any belief

that the deceased needed these objects. Toys, too, are found in the

graves, and we may assume that these were placed in the tombs of

children. The frequent presence of shells in the tombs is still

unexplained. On the other hand, remains of food, dates, grain, poultry,

and fish, that have been found in graves belonging to various periods,

may be regarded as a proof for the existence of the belief that the dead

could suffer pangs of hunger. The closing lines of the Gilgamesh

epic,[1264] where the fate of the neglected dead is portrayed, confirms

this view. But such remains are more frequent in the early graves than

in those of a later time. Animal sacrifices at the grave appear to be

very old.[1265] Offerings of food and water were made to the dead, not

only at the time of the burial, but afterwards by surviving relatives.

The son performs the office of pouring out water to the memory of his

father.[1266] The close of the legend of Ishtar's journey suggests that

the festival of Tammuz was selected as an 'All-Souls' day. The weeping

for the lost Tammuz served as an appropriate link for combining with the

mourning for the god the lament for the dead. The water jar is never

absent in the old Babylonian tombs, and by the side of the jar the bowl

of clay or bronze is found, and which probably served the same purpose

as a drinking utensil for the dead. How early it became customary to

bury the dead together we do not know. It may be that at one time they

were buried beneath the dwellings that they occupied when alive, under

the threshold or in the walls;[1267] but the conception of Aralu as a

great gathering-place of the dead would hardly have arisen, unless the

'city of the dead' by the side of the 'city of the living' had become an

established custom. We are, therefore, justified in assuming that as the

villages grew into towns, the huddling together of the living suggested

placing the dead together in a portion of the town set aside for the

purpose. In comparison with the elaborate constructions in the Egyptian

cities of the dead, the Babylonian necropolis was a shabby affair.

Vaults, rarely more than five feet high, served as the place where the

dead were deposited. These vaults were constructed of bricks, and an

extended series of them gave to the necropolis the appearance of little

houses, suggestive of primitive mud huts. This simplicity, due in the

first instance to the lack of stone as building material in Babylonia,

corresponded to the very simple character which the dwelling-house

retained. The one-story type of dwelling, with simple partitions,

prevailed to the latest period. It was only in the temples and palaces

that architectural skill was developed. In Assyria, although soft stone

was accessible, the example of Babylonia was slavishly followed. It is

due to this that so few traces of private houses have been found in the

Mesopotamian explorations,[1268] and the almost primitive character of

the graves--more primitive, by virtue of the strength of the

conservative instinct in everything connected with the dead, than the

dwellings of the living--readily accounts for their nearly complete

destruction. Simple as the houses of the dead were, they were yet

carefully guarded against the invasion of air and dust; and even after

centuries of neglect the contents are found to be perfectly dry.

The explorations at Nippur show that the tub and bowl forms of the

coffin continued to be used during the period extending from Hammurabi

to Nabonnedos. In later times, it would appear, the custom of placing

food and drink with the dead fell into disuse.[1269] We may perhaps find

that, as was the case in Egypt, symbolical representations of food--a

clay plate with the food modeled in clay--took the place of the old

custom. Fewer utensils, too, are found in the graves of the later

period; but, on the other hand, ornaments increase, until, when we reach

the Persian and Greek periods, mirrors are quite common, and golden

veils are placed over the dead, while handsome earrings, breastpins, and

necklaces indicate the growth of this luxurious display. The clay

coffins, too, are beautifully glazed and ornamented with elaborate

designs. A trace of foreign--perhaps Graeco-Egyptian--influence may be

seen in the human head modeled on the coffin. Naturally, at all times

the different ranks occupied by the dead involved more or less

modifications of the prevailing customs. The rich were placed in more

carefully built vaults than the poor. The coverings and ornaments varied

with the station of the deceased; but in general it may be said that,

during the earlier periods of Babylonian-Assyrian history, simplicity

was the rule, and the objects placed in the tombs were more carefully

chosen with reference to the needs of the dead and the career that he

led while living, while the tendency in later times was away from the

religious beliefs that gave rise to the funeral customs, and in the

direction of luxury and display. This development, however, is

independent of _proper_ burial, upon which, as we have already had

occasion to see, great stress was at all times laid. The greatest

misfortune that could happen to a dead person was for his body to remain

overground, or to be removed from the tomb and exposed to the light of

day. In the early monument of Babylonian art,--the 'stele of

vultures,'[1270]--already referred to, the dead foes are punished by

being stripped of their clothing and exposed to the attack of vultures,

who are seen carrying off human heads, legs, and arms. To emphasize the

contrast, the king's soldiers are portrayed as being buried in

symmetrical rows, the head of each body being covered by the feet of the

body in the row above. When the Babylonian and Assyrian kings wish to

curse the one who might venture to destroy the monuments set up by them,

they know of nothing stronger than to express the hope

That his body may be cast aside,

No grave be his lot.[1271]

The kings punished their enemies by leaving their bodies to rot in the

sun, or they exposed them on poles as a warning to rebels. Ashurbanabal

on one occasion speaks of having scattered the corpses of the enemy's

host 'like thorns and thistles' over the battlefield.[1272] The corpses

of the Babylonians who had aided in the rebellion against the king were

given 'to dogs, swine, to the birds of heaven, to the fish of the sea'

as food.[1273] The same king takes pleasure in relating that he

destroyed the graves of Elamitic kings and dragged the bodies from their

resting-place[1274] to Assyria. Their shades, he adds, were thus

unprotected. No food could be tendered them and no sacrifices offered in

their honor. Sennacherib, after he has crushed a rebellion that broke

out in Babylonia, takes a terrible revenge upon the instigator of the

opposition, Mardukbaliddin, by removing the bodies of the latter's

ancestors from the vaults wherein they were deposited. The bones of an

enemy are enumerated by Ashurbanabal among the spoil secured by

him.[1275] The mutilation of the dead body was also a terrible

punishment to the dead,[1276] and we are told that the person who

disturbed a grave is not to be permitted to enter the temple. The

desecration of the grave affected not only the individual whose rest was

thus disturbed, and who, in consequence, suffered pangs of hunger and

other miseries, but reached the survivors as well. The unburied or

disentombed shade assumed the form of a demon,[1277] and afflicted the

living.

Of the ceremonies incidental to burial, the bronze tablet above

described affords us at least a glimpse. The dead were placed on a bier

and wrapped in some kind of a cover. Priests were called in to perform

rites of purification. One of the priests, it will be recalled,[1278] is

clad in a fish costume. The fish is the symbol of Ea, the god of the

deep, who becomes the chief deity appealed to in incantations involving

the use of water. The priest assumes the role of Ea, as it were, by the

symbolical dress that he puts on. The rites appear to consist of the

burning of incense and the sprinkling of water. It does not of course

follow that everywhere the same custom was observed, but we may at least

be certain that the priest played an important part in the last honors

paid to the dead. The purification was intended to protect the dead from

the evil spirits that infest the grave. The demons of disease, it is

true, could no longer trouble him. They had done their work as

messengers of Allatu. But there were other demons who were greedy for

the blood and flesh of the dead. Though the dead had passed out of the

control of the gods, the latter had at least the power to restrain the

demons from disturbing the peace of the grave.

In the earlier days, when the bodies were placed on the ground or only a

short distance below it, the building of the grave-mound was a ceremony

to which importance was attached. In the stele of vultures, attendants

are portrayed--perhaps priests--with baskets on their heads, containing

the earth to be placed over the fallen soldiers.[1279] These attendants

are bare to the waist. The removal of the garments is probably a sign of

mourning, just as among the Hebrews and other Semites it was customary

to put on the primitive loin-cloth[1280] as a sign of grief. In somewhat

later times, we find sorrowing relatives tearing their clothing[1281]--

originally tearing off their clothing--and cutting their hair as signs

of mourning.

The formal lament for the dead was another ceremony upon which stress

was laid. It lasted from three to seven days.[1282] The professional

wailers, male and female, can be traced back to the earliest days of

Babylonian history. Gudea speaks of them.[1283] It would appear that at

this early period persons were engaged, as is the case to this day in

the Orient, to sing dirges in memory of the dead.[1284] The function is

one that belongs naturally to priests and priestesses; and, while in the

course of time, the connection with the temple of those who acted as

wailers became less formal, it is doubtful whether that connection was

ever entirely cut off. The 'dirge singers, male and female,' referred to

in the story of Ishtar's journey[1285] were in the service of some

temple. The hymns to Nergal[1286] may be taken as samples of the

Babylonian dirges.

The praise of Nergal and Allatu was combined with the lament for the sad

fate of the dead. Gilgamesh weeping for his friend Eabani[1287]

furnishes an illustration. Gilgamesh is described as stretched out on

the ground. The same custom is referred to in the inscriptions of

Cyrus,[1288] and it is interesting to note that a similar mode of

manifesting grief still prevails in the modern Orient. In the Babylonian

dirges, it would seem, the references to the virtues of the deceased

(which are prominently introduced into the dirges of the present day)

were few. The refrain forms a regular feature of these dirges,--an

indication that, as is still the case in the Orient, there was a leader

who sang the dirge, while the chorus chimed in at the proper moment. The

principle of the stanza of two lines, one long and one short, that, as

Budde has shown,[1289] controls the wailing songs in the Old Testament

(including the Book of Lamentations, which is based upon this very

custom of lamenting the dead), may be detected in the Babylonian

compositions. The accompaniment of musical instruments to the dirges

also appears to be a very old custom in Babylonia. In the story of

Ishtar's journey the wailers are called upon to strike their

instruments. What kind of instruments were used in ancient times we do

not know. In the Assyrian period, the harp and flute appear to be the

most common.[1290]

At the time that food and drink were placed with the dead in the grave,

some arrangements must have been made for renewing the nourishment.

Entrances to tombs have been found,[1291] and Koldewey[1292] is of the

opinion that the clay drains found in quantities in the tombs, served as

well to secure a supply of fresh water for the dead. The wailing for the

dead took place not only immediately after death, but subsequently.

Ashurbanabal speaks of visiting the graves of his ancestors. He appears

at the tomb with rent garments, pours out a libation to the memory of

the dead, and offers up a prayer addressed to them. We have every reason

to believe that the graves were frequently visited by the survivors. The

festival of Tammuz became an occasion[1293] when the memory of those who

had entered Aralu was recalled.

While there are many details connected with the ceremonies for the dead

still to be determined, what has been ascertained illustrates how

closely and consistently these ceremonies followed the views held by the

Babylonians and Assyrians regarding the life after death. Everything

connected with death is gloomy. The grave is as dark as Aralu; the

funeral rites consist of dirges that lament not so much the loss

sustained by the living as the sad fate in store for the dead. Not a ray

of sunshine illumines the darkness that surrounds these rites. All that

is hoped for is to protect the dead against the attack of demons greedy

for human flesh, to secure rest for the body, and to guard the dead

against hunger and thirst.

It is almost startling to note, to what a degree the views embodied in

Old Testament writings regarding the fate of the dead, coincide with

Babylonian conceptions. The descriptions of Sheol found in Job, in the

Psalms, in Isaiah, Ezekiel, and elsewhere are hardly to be distinguished

from those that we have encountered in Babylonian literature. For

Job,[1294] Sheol is

The land of darkness and deep shadows.

The land of densest gloom and not of light.

Even where there is a gleam, there it is as dark night.[1295]

The description might serve as a paraphrase of the opening lines in the

story of Ishtar's journey. The Hebrew Sheol is situated, like the

Babylonian Aralu, deep down in the earth.[1296] It is pictured as a

cavern. The entrance to it is through gates that are provided with

bolts. Sheol is described as a land filled with dust. Silence reigns

supreme. It is the gathering-place of all the living, without exception.

He who sinks into Sheol does not rise up again.

He does not return to his house.

His place knows him no more.[1297]

It is, clearly, 'a land without return,' as the Babylonians conceived

it. The condition of the dead in Sheol is sad, precisely as the

Babylonians pictured the life in Aralu. The dead are designated by a

name[1298] that indicates their weak condition. They can only talk in

whispers or they chirp like birds. Their gait is unsteady. In general,

they are pictured as lying quiet, doomed to inactivity. Death is

lamented as an evil. The dead have passed out of the control of Yahwe,

whose concern is with the living. Yahwe's blessings are meted out in

this world, but not in Sheol. These blessings consist chiefly of long

life and plenty of offspring. The dead need not praise Yahwe.

Ecclesiastes--although a late composition--expresses the old popular

view in the summary of the fate of the dead,[1299] when it is said that

the dead know nothing of what is going on. Their memory is gone; they

neither love nor hate, and they are devoid of any ambition. There is no

planning, no wisdom, no judgment in Sheol.

Like the Babylonians, the Hebrews also believed that the condition of

the individual at the time of death was an index of the condition in

store for him in Sheol. He who goes to Sheol in sorrow is pursued by

sorrow after death. Jacob does not want to go down to Sheol in

sorrow,[1300] because he knows that in that case sorrow will be his fate

after death. To die neglected by one's family was fatal to one's

well-being in Sheol. Life in Sheol was a continuation, in a measure, of

the earthly existence. Hence, the warrior is buried with his weapons;

the prophet is recognized by his cloak; the kings wear their crowns; the

people of various lands are known by their dress.[1301] Even

deformities, as lameness, follow the individual into the grave. On the

other hand, while the dead were weak and generally inactive, although

capable of suffering, they were also regarded by the Hebrews as

possessing powers superior to those of the living. As among the

Babylonians, the dead stand so close to the higher powers as to be

themselves possessed of divine qualities. Schwally aptly characterizes

this apparent contradiction by saying 'that the dead are _Refa'im_

(weak), but, at the same time, _Elohim_, _i.e._ divine beings.'[1302]

Yahwe has no power over the dead, but they receive some of his

qualities. They are invoked by the living. The dead can furnish oracles,

precisely as Yahwe can. They not only appear to the living in dreams,

but their shades can be raised up from Sheol. A certain amount of

worship was certainly paid to the dead by the ancient Hebrews.

Naturally, these popular views were subjected to considerable

modification with the development of the religion of the Hebrews. While

many features remained, as is shown by the occurrence of the primitive

conception of Sheol in comparatively late productions, in one important

particular, more especially, did the spread of an advanced ethical

monotheism lead to a complete departure from the Babylonian conceptions.

While, in the popular mind, the belief that there was no escape from

Sheol continued for a long time, this belief was inconsistent with the

conception of a Divine Being, who, as creator and sole ruler of the

universe, had control of the dead as well as the living. As long as

Yahwe was merely one god among many, no exception was made of the rule

that the concern of the gods was with the living; but Yahwe as the one

and only god, could not be pictured as limited in his scope. He was a

god for the dead, as well as for the living. The so-called song of

Hannah[1303] expresses the new view when it praises Yahwe as the one

'who kills and restores to life, who leads to Sheol, and who can lead

out of it.' Such a description of Yahwe is totally different from the

Babylonians' praise of Ninib, Gula, or Marduk as the 'restorer of the

dead to life,' which simply meant that these gods could restrain Allatu.

The power to snatch the individual from the grasp of Sheol was also

ascribed to the national god, Yahwe. Elijah's restoration of the widow's

child[1304] to life is an instance of this power, and Jonah,[1305] who

praises Yahwe for having delivered him when the gates of Sheol already

seemed bolted, may not have had anything more in mind than what the

Babylonians meant; but when the Psalmist, to indicate the universal rule

of Yahwe, exclaims

If I mount to heaven, thou art there,

If I make Sheol my couch, thou art there,[1306]

the departure from the old Hebrew and Babylonian views of the limitation

of divine power is clearly marked. The inconsistency between the view

held of Yahwe and the limitation of his power was not, however, always

recognized. Hence, even in late portions of the Old Testament, we find

views of the life after death that are closely allied to the popular

notions prevailing in the earlier productions. It is not, indeed, till

we reach a period bordering close on our era that the conflict between

the old and the new is brought to a decided issue in the disputes of the

sects that arose in Palestine.[1307] The doctrines of retribution and of

the resurrection of the dead are the inevitable consequences of the

later ethical faith and finally triumph; but the old views, which bring

the ancient Hebrews into such close connection with the Babylonians,

left their impress in the vagueness that for a long time characterized

these doctrines, even after their promulgation. The persistency of the

old beliefs is a proof of the strong hold that they acquired, as also of

the close bond uniting, at one time and for a long period, Hebrews and

Babylonians. What applies to the beliefs regarding the dead holds good

also for the rites. Many a modern Jewish custom[1308] still bears

witness to the original identity of the Hebrew and Babylonian methods of

disposing of and caring for the dead.

There is but one explanation for this close agreement,--the same

explanation that was given for the identity of traditions regarding the

creation of the world, and for the various other points of contact

between the two peoples that we have met with. When the Hebrew clans

left their homes in the Euphrates Valley, they carried with them the

traditions, beliefs, and customs that were current in that district, and

which they shared with the Babylonians. Under new surroundings, some new

features were added to the traditions and beliefs, but the additions did

not obscure the distinctive character impressed upon them by Babylonian

contact. We now know that relations with Babylonia were never entirely

broken off by the Hebrews. The old traditions survived all vicissitudes.

They were adapted to totally changed phases of belief, but the kernel

still remained Babylonian. Beliefs were modified, new doctrines arose;

but, with a happy inconsistency, the old was embodied in the new. Hence

it happens, that in order to understand the Hebrews, their religion,

their customs, and even their manner of thought, we must turn to

Babylonia.

Further discoveries beneath the mounds of Mesopotamia and further

researches in Babylonian literature will add more evidence to the

indebtedness of the Hebrews to Babylonia. It will be found that in the

sacrificial ordinances of the Pentateuch, in the legal regulations, in

methods of justice and punishment, Babylonian models were largely

followed, or, what is an equal testimony to Babylonian influence, an

opposition to Babylonian methods was dominant. It is not strange that

when by a curious fate, the Hebrews were once more carried back to the

'great river of Babylon,'[1309] the people felt so thoroughly at home

there. It was only the poets and some ardent patriots who hung their

harps on the willows and sighed for a return to Zion. The Jewish

population steadily increased in Babylonia, and soon also the

intellectual activity of Babylonian Jews outstripped that of

Palestine.[1310] The finishing touches to the structure of Judaism were

given in Babylonia--on the soil where the foundations were laid.

FOOTNOTES:

[1112] See above, p. 448.

[1113] See pp. 487, 489, 511, 512.

[1114] Or Arallu.

[1115] IIR. 61, 18. Jensen, _Kosmologie_, p. 220, takes this as the name

of a temple; but, since Aralu was pictured as a 'great house,' there is

no reason why the designation should not refer to the nether world.

[1116] See the admirable argument in Jensen, _Kosmologie_, pp. 185-195.

[1117] Or, more fully, Kharsag-gal-kurkura, 'great mountain of all

lands.'

[1118] See above, p. 458.

[1119] See the following chapter.

[1120] See the passages in Jeremias' _Die Babylonisch-Assyrischen

Vorstellungen vom Leben nach dem Tode_, p. 62.

[1121] Sargon Annals, I. 156. Jensen's interpretation of the passage

(_Kosmologie_, p. 231) is forced, as is also his explanation of IIR. 51,

11a, where a mountain Aralu is clearly designated.

[1122] _Kosmologie_, pp. 222-224.

[1123] Gunkel's _Schoepfung und Chaos_, p. 154, note 5.

[1124] In an article on 'Shualu' published in the _American Journal of

Semitic Languages_ (xiv.), I have set forth my reasons for accepting

this word as a Babylonian term for the nether world.

[1125] In the later portions of the Old Testament, the use of Sheol is

also avoided. See the passages in Schwally, _Das Leben nach dem Tode

nach den Vorstellungen des Alten Israels_, pp. 59, 60.

[1126] Not 'Ort der Entscheidung,' as Jeremias, _ib._ p. 109, proposes.

[1127] See above, p. 329.

[1128] I Sam. xxviii. 11.

[1129] See p. 511.

[1130] See Schwally, _ib._ pp. 59-63.

[1131] Isaiah, viii. 19.

[1132] One of the names for the priest in Babylonia is Sha'ilu, _i.e._,

'inquirer,' and the corresponding Hebrew word Sho'el is similarly used

in a few passages of the Old Testament; _e.g._, Deut. xviii. 11; Micah,

vii. 3. See an article by the writer on "The Stem Sha'al and the Name of

Samuel," in a forthcoming number of the _Journal of the Society of

Biblical Literature_.

[1133] See above, pp. 333 _seq._

[1134] See p. 167.

[1135] See above, p. 167, and Scheit, _Le Culte de Gudea_, etc.

(_Recueil des Travaux_, xviii. 64 _seq._)

[1136] Thureau-Dangin, _Le Culte des Rois dans la periode

Prebabylonienne_ (_Recueil des Travaux_, etc., xix. 486).

[1137] See above, p. 36. The text is published IIIR. pl. 4, no. 7.

Recently, Mr. Pinches has published a variant version of this story

(_Proc. Soc. Bibl. Arch._ xviii. 257, 258).

[1138] IVR. 34.

[1139] In view of recent discussions of the subject, it is important to

note that Tiele already fifteen years ago recognized that Sargon was a

historical personage. See his remarks, _Babyl. Assyr. Gesch._, p. 112.

[1140] Chapter ii.

[1141] See Winterbotham, "The Cult of Father Abraham," in the

_Expositor_, 1897, pp. 177-186.

[1142] See Jensen's _Kosmologie_, p. 215, and Meissner,

_Altbabylonisches Privatrecht_, p. 21. The word is used for the

foundation of a building, and is an indication, therefore, of the great

depth at which the nether world was placed.

[1143] See below, p. 567, and Jensen's _Kosmologie_, p. 259.

[1144] See pp. 65, 66.

[1145] _Kabru_ and _Gegunu_ ('dark place').

[1146] See also below, pp. 566, 567.

[1147] Published IV Rawlinson (2nd edition), pl. 31.

[1148] See p. 483.

[1149] The Old Testament recognizes only two seasons, summer and winter.

See, _e.g._, Gen. viii. 22.

[1150] See the discussion in Robertson Smith's _Religions of the

Semites_, pp. 391-394; and also Farnall, _The Cults of the Greek

States_, ii. 644-649.

[1151] See above, p. 484.

[1152] See above, p. 510.

[1153] _I.e._, according to one version (p. 511). Another version of

this part of the Gilgamesh epic, which, however, is influenced by the

tale of Ishtar's visit, is published in Haupt's _Nimrodepos_, pp. 16-19.

In this version Eabani gives Gilgamesh a description of Aralu, which

tallies with the one found in the Ishtar tale.

[1154] Text defective. Jeremias' suggestion, "the land that thou

knowest," misses the point. The person addressed does not know the land.

'Decay' is Schrader's conjecture (_Die Hoellenfahrt der Istar_, p. 24).

See Haupt's _Nimrodepos_, pp. 17, 40, and Delitzsch's _Assyr.

Woerterbuch_, p. 321, note.

[1155] Lit., 'the one who has entered it.'

[1156] _I.e._, of the inhabitants.

[1157] The inhabitants.

[1158] See p. 461.

[1159] See below, p. 591.

[1160] See pp. 502, 511.

[1161] Particularly by Herbert Spencer and his followers.

[1162] Isaiah, xiv 9-20, and Ezekiel, xxxii. 18-31. In Isaiah, the

Babylonian Aralu is specifically described, while Ezekiel writes under

the influence of Babylonian ideas.

[1163] Isaiah, viii. 19.

[1164] The Hebrew word for 'the dead,' _refaim_, conveys this idea.

[1165] See p. 512.

[1166] See Sara Y. Stevenson, "On Certain Symbols used in the Decoration

of Some Potsherds from Daphne and Naukratis" (Philadelphia, 1892), p. 8.

[1167] See above, p. 83.

[1168] 'Eating' appears to be a metaphor for destruction in general.

[1169] The portals (?).

[1170] Jensen, _Kosmologie_, pp. 173 _seq_.

[1171] Here used as an epithet of the nether world. See above, p. 563.

[1172] Or 'palace.' The lower world, it will be recalled, is pictured as

a house or a country. Here the two terms are combined. See Delitzsch,

_Assyr. Woerterbuch_, p. 341.

[1173] The phrases used are the ordinary terms of greeting. See, _e.g._,

VR. 65, 17b.

[1174] Gibil-Nusku may be meant. See the hymn, p. 278. Pap-sukal is a

title of Nabu (p. 130), but also of other gods.

[1175] Lit., 'liver.'

[1176] For the translation of these lines see Jensen, _Kosmologie_, p.

233.

[1177] See above, p. 441.

[1178] So Jeremias' _Vorstellungen_, etc.; see p. 39. _Zikutu_ from the

same stem means a 'drinking bowl.'

[1179] A biting of the lips is elsewhere introduced as a figure. See the

author's monograph, "A Fragment of the Babylonian Dibbarra Epic," p. 14.

[1180] See Delitzsch, _Assyr. Woerterbuch_, p. 341.

[1181] So far as the domestic animals are concerned, it is true that

they throw off their young in the spring. The reference to a similar

interruption in the case of mankind (see above, p. 571) may embody the

recollection of a period when a regular pairing season and breeding time

existed among mankind. See Westermarck, _The History of Human Marriage_,

pp. 27 _seq._

[1182] Allatu.

[1183] _I.e._, of the dead person.

[1184] Ishtar.

[1185] See p. 475.

[1186] _Vorstellungen_, pp. 6-8.

[1187] Some instrument is mentioned.

[1188] IVR. 30, no. 3, obverse 23-35.

[1189] The word is explained by a gloss, 'Shamash has made him great.'

[1190] _I.e._, the month in which one dies.

[1191] See p. 175.

[1192] See pp. 505, 506.

[1193] _Vorstellungen_, p. 81.

[1194] Psalms, vi. 6.

[1195] _L'Enfer Assyrien_ (_Revue Archaeologique_, 1879, pp. 337-349).

See also Perrot and Chiplez, _History of Art in Chaldaea and Assyria_,

I. 349 _seq._

[1196] Described by Schell in the _Recucil de Travaux_, etc., xx. nos. 1

and 2. Schell regards the Zurghul duplicate as older than the other.

[1197] Only four on the Zurghul duplicate.

[1198] For the interpretation of these symbols, see Luschan,

_Ausgrabungen in Sendschirli_, pp. 17-27, and Scheil's article. On the

Zurghul tablet there are eight symbols, while the other contains nine.

[1199] See pp. 263, 264. A text IVR. 5, col. i. compares each of the

seven spirits to some animal. On the duplicate six demons are placed in

the second division and the seventh in the third.

[1200] On the duplicate those two demons do not occur.

[1201] Schell thinks that the face is that of a dog.

[1202] On the Zurghul duplicate the horse is not pictured.

[1203] See p. 529.

[1204] This division is not marked in the duplicate from Zurghul.

[1205] Not occurring on the duplicate.

[1206] Scheil questions whether the divisions have this purpose. While

perhaps not much stress is laid by the artist upon this symbolism, its

existence can hardly be questioned. Note the five divisions of the

universe in Smith's _Miscellaneous Texts_, p. 16. The water certainly

represents the Apsu. Allatu rests upon the bark. We do not find among

the Babylonians (as Scheil supposes) the view that the dead are conveyed

across a sheet of water to the nether world. The dead are buried, and by

virtue of this fact enter Aralu, which is in the earth. Egyptian

influence is possible, but unlikely.

[1207] IVR. 26, no. 1.

[1208] _I.e._, the nether world.

[1209] IVR. 30, no. 1; obverse 5, 14.

[1210] See Jensen's valuable articles, "The Queen in the Babylonian

Hades and her Consort," in the _Sunday School Times_, March 13 and 20,

1897. The text is published, Winckler and Abel, _Der Thontafelfund von

El-Amarna,_ iii. 164, 165.

[1211] Written phonetically _e-ri-ish_. The word is entered as a synonym

of _sharratum_, 'queen,' VR. 28, no. 2; obverse 31. This phonetic

writing furnishes the reading for _Nin_ in Nin-Klgal.

[1212] See pp. 418, 419.

[1213] See p. 428.

[1214] See below, p. 588 _seq._

[1215] See below, p. 590.

[1216] See above, p. 79.

[1217] See pp. 448, 511.

[1218] See Farnell, _The Cults of the Greek States_, ii. 627.

[1219] See the reference in note 3 to p. 519.

[1220] Wellhausen, _Reste Arabischen Heidenthums_, pp. 28, 29. That the

Syro-Arabian _Allat_ resembles Ishtar rather than Allatu, points again

to the original identity of the two goddesses.

[1221] See p. 546 _seq._

[1222] See below, p. 594, note 1, and Jensen's _Kosmologie_, pp. 145,

480, 483, 487.

[1223] _Sunday School Times_, 1897, p. 139.

[1224] See p. 574.

[1225] See Frazer, _The Golden Bough_, i. 240 _seq._ and 274, 275.

[1226] See p. 574.

[1227] See p. 417.

[1228] Cheyne (_Expository Times_, 1897, pp. 423, 424) ingeniously

regards _Belili_ as the source of the Hebrew word _Beliyaal_ or

_Belial_, which, by a species of popular etymology, is written by the

ancient Hebrew scholars as though compounded of two Hebrew words

signifying 'without return.' The popular etymology is valuable as

confirming the proposition to place Belili in the pantheon of the lower

world. From its original meaning, the word became a poetical term in

Hebrew for 'worthless,' 'useless,' and the like, _e.g._, in the

well-known phrase "Sons of Belial."

[1229] See p. 482.

[1230] See p. 537.

[1231] See above, p. 523.

[1232] IIR. 59; reverse 33-35.

[1233] See above, p. 175.

[1234] IIR. 57, 51a, a star, Nin-azu, is entered as one of the names of

the planet Ninib.

[1235] See above, p. 565. The name occurs also in Haupt's _Nimrodepos_,

pp. 19, 29.

[1236] _Vorstellungen_, p. 68.

[1237] The name of the goddess is written throughout the story

Nin-Kigal; _i.e._, 'queen of the nether world.' Nin-Eresh. See p. 584,

note 2.

[1238] Smith, _Miscellaneous Texts_, p. 16.

[1239] Jensen, _Kosmologie_, p. 259, note.

[1240] IVR. 1, col. i. 12; col iii. 8-10.

[1241] _Te'u_. See IVR. 22, 512, and Bartels, _Zeitschrift fuer

Assyriologie_, viii. 179-184.

[1242] See above, pp. 183, 560.

[1243] Obverse ll. 33, 37.

[1244] See above, p. 185.

[1245] See p. 186.

[1246] See p. 183.

[1247] See pp. 417, 598.

[1248] Jensen's _Kosmologie_, pp. 483, 484. In the new fragment of the

Deluge story discovered by Scheil (referred to above, p. 507, and now

published in the _Recueil de Travaux_, xix. no. 3) the word

_di-ib-ba-ra_ occurs, and the context shows that it means 'destruction.'

In view of this, the question is again opened as to the reading of the

name of the god of war and pestilence. The identification of this god

with Girra (pp. 528, 588) may belong to a late period.

[1249] See p. 529.

[1250] See pp. 111, 171, 190.

[1251] See chapter v.

[1252] So at Zurghul (or Zerghul) and el-Hibba. See Koldewey in

_Zeitschrift fuer Assyriologie_, ii. 403-430.

[1253] See the valuable chapter in Peters' work on _Nippur_, ii.

214-234.

[1254] _Proceedings of the American Oriental Society_, 1896, p. 166. The

dead are often conveyed hundreds of miles to be interred in Nejef and

Kerbela.

[1255] Peters' _Nippur_, ii. 325, 326.

[1256] See below, p. 597.

[1257] Koldewey, _Zeitschrift fuer Assyriologie_, ii. 406 _seq._

[1258] _Ib._

[1259] _Travels and Researches in Chaldaea and Susiana_, chapter xviii.

[1260] Peters' _Nippur_, ii. 234. Other mounds examined by Peters

between Warka and Nippur bear out the conclusion.

[1261] De Sarzec, _Decouvertes en Chaldee_, pl. 3.

[1262] On the stele of vultures, the dead are naked.

[1263] Book I, Sec. 195.

[1264] See p. 512.

[1265] Such sacrifices are pictured on the stele of vultures.

[1266] IIIR. 43, col. iv. l. 20; Belser, _Beitraege zur Assyriologie_,

ll. 175, 18; Pinches, _Babylonian Texts_, p. 18.

[1267] For this custom see Trumbull, _The Threshold Covenant_, p. 25;

Peters' _Nippur_, ii. 202, 203.

[1268] Recently, Scheil has discovered some private dwellings at

Abu-Habba, which will be described in his forthcoming volume on his

explorations at that place. See also Peters' _Nippur_, ii. 200, 201.

[1269] Peters' _Nippur_, ii. 220.

[1270] See p. 597. The date of the monument is prior to Sargon; _i.e._,

earlier than 3800 B.C.

[1271] VR. 61, col. vi. ll. 54, 55.

[1272] Rassam Cylinder, col. iii. l. 40.

[1273] Rassam Cylinder, col. iv. ll. 74-76.

[1274] _Ib._ col. vi. ll. 70-76.

[1275] Rassam Cylinder, col. iii. l. 64. The favorite mutilation was the

cutting off of the head. On one of the sculptured slabs from the palace

of Ashurbanabal, a pyramid of heads is portrayed. The cutting off of the

hands, the lips, the nose, and the male organ, as well as the flaying of

the skin, were also practised. (See Sennacherib's account IR. 42, col.

vi. ll. 1-6; Rassam Cylinder (Ashurbanabal), ii. 4 and iv. 136.)

[1276] Rassam Cylinder, col. vii. ll. 46-48.

[1277] _ekimmu_. See p. 580.

[1278] See p. 578.

[1279] Heuzey offers another explanation of the scene which is less

plausible. (See De Sarzec, _Decouvertes en Chaldee_, p. 98.)

[1280] Hebrew word _Sak_. The other rite of mourning among the Hebrews,

the putting of earth on the head (_e.g._, I Sam. iv. 12; II Sam. i. 2

and xv. 32; Neh. ix. 1), is a survival of the method of burial as

portrayed in the 'stele of vultures.' The earth was originally placed in

a basket on the head and used to cover the dead body.

[1281] The mourning garb mentioned in the Adapa legend (p. 546) is

probably a 'torn' garment.

[1282] Hagen, _Cyrus-Texte_ (_Beitraege zur Assyriologie_, ii. 219, 223).

[1283] Inscription B, col. v. ll. 3-5.

[1284] Lane, _Modern Egyptians_, ll. 286.

[1285] See p. 575.

[1286] _Ib._

[1287] See p. 487.

[1288] Hagen, _Cyrus-Texte_, _ib._ and p. 248.

[1289] "The Folk-Song of Israel," _The New World_, ii. 35; also his

article "Das Hebraeische Klagelied," _Zeitschrift fuer Alttestamentliche

Wissenschaft_, ii. 1-52.

[1290] In Egypt at present the tambourine is used to accompany the

dirges (Lane, _ib._ p. 278).

[1291] Peter's _Nippur_, ii. 173, and elsewhere.

[1292] _Zeitschrift fuer Assyriologie_, ii. 414.

[1293] See above, p. 575.

[1294] Job, x. 21, 22.

[1295] _I.e._, the darkness is so dense that no light can remove it.

[1296] See the references in Schwally, _Das Leben nach dem Tode nach den

Vorstellungen des Alten Israels_, pp. 59-68, and Jeremias'

_Vorstellungen_, pp. 106-116.

[1297] Job, vii. 10.

[1298] _Refa'im_.

[1299] Chapter ix. 5-10.

[1300] Gen. xlii. 38.

[1301] Incidentally, a proof that the dead were not buried naked.

[1302] _Das Leben nach dem Tode_, etc, p. 67.

[1303] I Sam. ii. Recognized by the critics as an insertion. See Budde,

_Die Buecher Richter und Samuel_, p. 197.

[1304] I Kings, xvii. 21, 22.

[1305] Chapter ii. 7.

[1306] Psalms, cxxxix. 8; a very late production.

[1307] Schuerer, _A History of the Jewish People in the Time of Jesus

Christ_, vol. II. Division li. pp. 38, 39, 179-181.

[1308] _E.g._, the custom still in vogue among Orthodox Jews of placing

the body wrapped in a shroud upon a board, instead of in a coffin.

[1309] Professor Haupt has recently shown (in a paper read before the

American Oriental Society, April, 1897, and before the Eleventh

International Congress of Orientalists, September, 1897) that such is

the meaning of the phrase, Psalms, cxxxvii. 1, which is ordinarily

translated 'rivers of Babylon.'

[1310] The Talmud of Babylonia, and not the Talmud of Palestine, became

the authoritative work in the Jewish Church.