 |
[866] Heuzey, Sceaux inedits des Rois d'Agade (Revue d'Assyriologie, iv. 3, p. 9).
[867] See above, p. 448.
[868] Anu here used in the generic sense of 'lofty,' 'divine.' The phrase is equivalent to the Biblical 'image of God.'
[869] A phrase in some way again indicative of Eabani's likeness to a deity.
[870] That Gilgamesh undertakes this, and not the gods acting in the interest of Uruk (as Jeremias and others assume), follows from a passage in Haupt's edition, pp. 10, 40.
[871] Eabani.
[872] Identical with our own word "harem."
[873] Perhaps "ensnarer."
[874] So in the "Dibbarra" legend. See p. 531 and Delitzsch, Handwoerterbuch, p. 41.
[875] Sixth tablet, ll. 184, 185.
[876] Book 1. Sec.Sec. 181, 182, 199.
[877] See Jeremias' Izdubar-Nimrod, pp. 59, 60; Nikel, Herodot und die Keilschriftforschung, pp. 84-86.
[878] The protest of the Pentateuch (Deut. xxiii. 18) against the K'desha, as also against the 'male devotee' (Kadesh), shows the continued popularity of the rites.
[879] It is to be noted that in the Yahwistic narrative, Adam is in close communication with the animals about him (Gen. ii. 20). It is tempting also to connect the Hebrew form of Eve, Khauwa (or Khauwat) in some way with Ukhat, not etymologically of course, but as suggestive of a dependence of one upon the other,—the Hebrew upon the Babylonian term. Professor Stade (Zeits. f. Alttest. Wiss., 1897, p. 210) commenting upon Gen. ii. 20, points out that Yahwe's motive for asking Adam to name the animals was the hope that he would find a 'helpmate' among them. In the light of the Babylonian story of Eabani living with animals, Stade's suggestion receives a striking illustration.
[880] See Trumbull, The Threshold Covenant, p. 239.
[881] Kharimtu. In Arabic the word is likewise used for 'woman' in general.
[882] The temple at Uruk is meant.
[883] Jeremias translates 'seeks a friend,' and refers the words to Gilgamesh, but there is nothing in the narrative to justify us in assuming that Eabani was thinking of the hero.
[884] It is used as a synonym of tappu 'associate,' Delitzsch, Handwoerterbuch, p. 10. Ideographically, it is composed of two elements, 'strength' and 'acquire.' 'Companion in arms' is the fellowship originally meant.
[885] The Hebrew verb (Gen. ii. 22) expresses sexual union and precisely the same verb is used in the cuneiform narrative when Eabani comes to Ukhat (Haupt's edition, p. 11, l. 21).
[886] We can still distinguish (Haupt, 12, 47) 'I will fetch him.' Jeremias' rendering, "I will fight with him," is erroneous.
[887] Haupt, 13, 7-8.
[888] Cf. Gen. iii. 5 and 21.
[889] The text of the following lines restored by combining Haupt, p. 13, with a supplementary fragment published by Jeremias' Izdubar-Nimrod, pl. 3.
[890] I.e., he will be told about thy dream through the wisdom given to him.
[891] See, e.g., Jeremias' Izdubar-Nimrod, p. 21.
[892] So, e.g., Hommel (Altisraelitische Ueberlieferung, p. 35). He is certainly not a native of Babylonia.
[893] Gilgamesh.
[894] Haupt, p. 26.
[895] A city Ganganna is mentioned in the first tablet (Haupt, pp. 51, 6).
[896] So Haupt, Beitraege zur Assyriologie, i. 112.
[897] I.e., again and again.
[898] This is the general sense of the three terms used.
[899] I.e., an army's march of fourteen hours. See pp. 490, 503, 521.
[900] The same word appears in incantation texts as a term for a class of demons.
[901] See, e.g., Jeremias' Izdubar-Nimrod, p. 26.
[902] I.e., to the bull.
[903] Chapter XXV.
[904] Ez. viii. 14.
[905] See above, p. 475.
[906] See p. 267.
[907] See above, p. 234.
[908] Trumbull, The Threshold Covenant, chapter vii.
[909] See p. 536.
[910] Or as a third dream. It will be recalled that in a previous portion of the epic (p. 481), Gilgamesh has three dreams in succession.
[911] Haupt, pp. 45, 53.
[912] Attitude of despair.
[913] I.e., 'offspring of life.' I adopt Delitzsch's reading of the name. Zimmern and Jensen prefer Sitnapishtim, but see Haupt's remarks on the objections to this reading in Schrader, Keilinschriften und das Alte Testament (3d edition) a. l. At the recent Eleventh International Congress of Orientalists, Scheil presented a tablet dealing with the deluge narrative. If his reading is correct, the evidence would be final for the form Pirnapishtim, formerly proposed by Zimmern (Babylonische Busspsalmen, p. 26). See p. 507, note 1.
[914] "Client of Marduk." The name Marduk appears here under the ideographic designation Tutu. The identification with Marduk may be due to later traditions.
[915] Jeremias' suggestion (Indubar-Nimrod, p. 18) that the fight with the lion belongs to the first tablet, where mention is made of a wild animal of some kind, is not acceptable.
[916] I.e., inner side.
[917] The name of the cave underneath the earth where the dead dwell.
[918] See above, p. 443.
[919] See, e.g., Jeremias' Izdubar-Nimrod, p. 28.
[920] See the passages in Delitzsch, Wo Lag das Paradies, pp. 242, 243.
[921] See above, p. 39, and Hommel's full discussion, Altisraelitische Ueberlieferung, chapter iii.
[922] Hommel (Altisraelitische Ueberlieferung, pp. 35, 37) suggests a migration of Cassites from Elam to Eastern Africa.
[923] Haupt, pp. 12, 67.
[924] Attitude of despair.
[925] I.e. 'servant of Ea.' The reading Ardi-Ea is preferable to Arad-Ea.
[926] Lit., 'sailor.'
[927] See above, p. 443.
[928] Haupt, pp. 64, 36; 65, 1.
[929] Altisraelitische Ueberlieferung, p. 35.
[930] Tum is the feminine ending.
[931] A large measure.
[932] Of the week? Hommel and others interpret that Gilgamesh accomplishes the 'forty-five days' journey' in three days.
[933] This I take to be the meaning of the numbers introduced at this point.
[934] The text is badly mutilated.
[935] There is no limit to the rule of death. Death alone is 'immortal.'
[936] As Haupt correctly interprets.
[937] This appears to be the sense of this rather obscure line.
[938] Read [sir-la]-am?
[939] See below, p. 507.
[940] The restored text in Haupt's edition of the Nimrodepos, pp. 134-149.
[941] Zimmern ingeniously suggests la bir, "not pure," instead of the rendering 'old.'
[942] Isaiah i. 1.
[943] See Jensen's remarks, Kosmologie, p. 387. There is no reference to Shurippak in IIR. 46, 1, as Haupt has shown (see his note in the 3rd edition of Schrader's Keilinscriften und das Alte Testament).
[944] Gen. xix.
[945] Hughes, Dictionary of Islam, sub "Ad" and "Salih".
[946] See above, p. 488, note 2.
[947] Lit., 'construct a house'; house is used for any kind of structure in general.
[948] I.e., let your property go and save your family.
[949] See above, p. 53.
[950] L. 45.
[951] Jensen, Kosmologie, p. 368; Jeremias, Izdubar-Nimrod, p. 37.
[952] See above, p. 496, note 6.
[953] Or decks (so Haupt).
[954] Of each story or deck.
[955] Poles are used to this day to propel the crafts on the Euphrates.
[956] The largest measure.
[957] The same word (kupru) is used as in Gen. vi. 14.
[958] Some part of the outside of the structure is designated.
[959] Haupt translates "Sesammeth."
[960] "Puzur" signifies 'hidden,' 'protected.' "Shadu rabu," i.e., 'great mountain,' is a title of Bel and of other gods (see above, pp. 56 and 278). Here, probably, Shamash is meant.
[961] Lit. 'great house' or 'palace.'
[962] I.e., 'king,' frequently found as a title of Marduk in astronomical texts (Jensen, Kosmologie, p. 145).
[963] The god of war and pestilence.
[964] "Tar-gul-le," some mischievous forces.
[965] The highest part of heaven.
[966] I.e., has been destroyed.
[967] Lit., 'spoken' or 'ordered.'
[968] Lit., 'my mankind.'
[969] I.e., Mankind.
[970] From which they were made. See pp. 448 and 511.
[971] See p. 482, note 4.
[972] Haupt and Delitzsch render ikkal, 'ate,' as though from akalu, but this is hardly in place. I take the stem of the word to be nakalu.
[973] To have a share in it.
[974] Jensen and Haupt translate "inconsiderately," but this rendering misses the point.
[975] Lit., 'my humanity.'
[976] Not destroy it altogether.
[977] Lit. 'the god Dibbarra.'
[978] I.e., the 'very clever' or 'very pious,' an epithet given to Parnapishtim. The inverted form, Khasis-adra, was distorted into Xisusthros, which appears in the writers dependent upon Berosus as the name of the hero of the Babylonian deluge. See, e.g., Cory's Ancient Fragments, pp. 52, 54, 60, etc. The epithet appears also in the Legend of Etana (pp. 523, 524), where it is applied to a 'wise' young eagle.
[979] I.e., mortal.
[980] I.e., immortal. Cf. Gen. iii. 22.
[981] Wo Lag das Paradies (Ueber Land und Meer, 1894-95, no. 15).
[982] The Hebrew account, it must be remembered, consists of two narratives dovetailed into one another. According to the one version—the Yahwistic—the rainstorm continued for forty days and forty nights; according to the other—the priestly narrative—one hundred and fifty days pass before the waters began to diminish and a year elapses before Noah leaves the ark. The Yahwistic narrative lays stress upon the ritualistic distinction of clean and unclean animals, but on the whole, the Yahwistic version approaches closer to the Babylonian tale. Evidence has now been furnished that among the Babylonians, too, more than one version of the tradition existed. At the Eleventh International Congress of Orientalists (September, 1897), Scheil presented a tablet, dating from the days of Hammurabi, in which the story of a deluge is narrated in a manner quite different from the Gilgamesh epic. The tablet also furnishes the phonetic reading pi-ir, and Scheil is of the opinion that these two syllables form the first element in the name of the hero. Unfortunately, the tablet is badly mutilated at this point, so that the question of the reading is not absolutely certain. See p. 488, note 2. [The reading Ut-napishtim is now generally adopted.]
[983] Gen. xix.
[984] Note the phrase in Gen. xix. 31, "there is no one on earth," and see Pietschman, Geschichte der Phonizier, p. 115.
[985] That the story was current as early as Hammurabi is now established by Scheil's fragment (see note 2 on preceding page).
[986] The word used is tu which means a charm or incantation in general.
[987] Made of the charm root.
[988] Gilgamesh.
[989] I.e., 'old age,' the name given to some plant of magic power.
[990] Tu.
[991] Lit., 'good.'
[992] Utukku—the name, it will be recalled, given to a class of demons. See p. 260.
[993] See p. 518.
[994] Haupt, Beitraege zur Assyriologie, i. 318, 319, has made it plausible that pp. 16-19 of his edition belong to the twelfth tablet of the epic, though perhaps to a different edition of the epic, as Jeremias suggests (Izdubar-Nimrod, p. 43).
[995] See above, p. 474.
[996] Haupt's edition, pp. 67, 12.
[997] Lit., 'thou hast seen it, I have seen it.'
[998] Text defective. Jeremias conjectures "kneeling."
[999] Ekimmu, another name for a class of demons. See p. 260.
[1000] The correct translation of these lines we owe to Haupt (Beitraege zur Assyriologie, i. 69, 70).
[1001] The reference to the killing of a panther in the tenth tablet (Haupt, p. 71, 6) is too obscure to be taken into consideration. Gilgamesh's fight with a 'buffalo' (so Ward, "Babylonian Gods in Babylonian Art," Proc. Amer. Or. Soc., May, 1890, p. xv) is pictured on seal cylinders. No doubt, various deeds of Gilgamesh were recounted in the missing portions of the epic, and it is also quite likely that besides the stories in the epic, others were current of Gilgamesh to which a literary form was never given.
[1002] The Parnapishtim episode passed on to the Arabs, where the hero of the deluge appears under the name of Khadir—a corruption of Adra-Khasis. See Lidzbarski, "Wer ist Chadir?" Zeits. f. Assyr. vii. 109-112, who also suggests that Ahasverus, 'the Wandering Jew,' is a corruption of Adrakhasis.
[1003] It will be recalled that Nimrod is termed a 'mighty hunter' (saeid). This suggests a comparison with Sadu, 'the hunter,' in the Gilgamesh epic. See above, p. 475.
[1004] Originally suggested by H. C. Rawlinson.
[1005] The ending on is an emphatic affix—frequent in proper names.
[1006] Euripides' Herakles, Einleitung.
[1007] On this subject see the Introduction to Berard's De l'origine des cultes Arcadiens, and for a further discussion of the relationships between Izdubar and Hercules, see Jeremias' Izdubar-Nimrod, pp. 70-73, or his article in Roscher's Ausfuehrliches Lexicon der Griechischen und Roemischen Mythologie, ii. 821-823.
[1008] Meissner, Alexander und Gilgamos (Leipzig, 1894), pp. 13-17.
[1009] In the Greek and other versions, the mountain Musas or Masis is mentioned,—that is, Mashu, as in the Gilgamesh epic. See p. 488.
[1010] See especially Budge, The Life and Exploits of Alexander the Great (London, Introduction, 1896); Noeldeke, Beitraege zur Geschichte des Alexander-Romans (Vienna, 1890) and Gaster, An Old Hebrew Romance of Alexander (Journal Royal Asiat. Soc., 1897, pp. 485-498).
CHAPTER XXIV.
MYTHS AND LEGENDS.
Not many years ago the impression appeared to be well founded that the Semites were poor in the production of myths and legends as compared, for example, to the Hindus or Greeks. The religious literature of the Babylonians, originating undoubtedly with the Semitic inhabitants of the Euphrates Valley, reverses the impression. The 'creation' and 'Gilgamesh' epics suffice, not merely for what they contain, but for what they imply, to accord to Babylonian mythology a high rank; but in addition to these epics we have a large number of tales of gods, demigods, demons, and spirits that illustrate the capacity of the Babylonians for the production of myths. Indeed, there is no longer any reason for doubting that the Babylonian mythology exercised considerable influence upon that of the Greeks. Further discoveries and researches may show that distant India also felt at an early period the intellectual stimulus emanating from the Euphrates Valley. At all events, many of the features found in Babylonian myths and legends bear so striking a resemblance to those occurring in lands lying to the east and west of Babylonia, that a study of Aryan mythology is sadly deficient which does not take into account the material furnished by cuneiform literature. How extensive the Babylonian mythology was must remain for the present a matter of conjecture, but it is easier to err on the side of underestimation than on the side of exaggeration. If it be remembered that by far the smaller portion only of Ashurbanabal's library has been recovered, and that of the various literary collections that were gathered in the religious centers of the south, scarcely anything has as yet been found, it is certainly remarkable that we should be in possession of an elaborate tale of a demi-god, Etana, of an extensive legend recounting the deeds of the war and plague-god Dibbarra, and of two genuine storm myths, while the indications in Dr. Bezold's catalogue of the Kouyunjik collection justify us in adding to the list several other myths and legends, among the still unpublished tablets of the British Museum.[1011] These myths and legends have a twofold value for us, a direct value because of the popular religious ideas contained in them, and an indirect value by virtue of the interpretation given to these ideas by the compilers. In the literary form that the popular productions received, the influence of those who guided the religious thought into its proper channels is to be clearly seen.
The Etana Legend.
It will be recalled that we came across a hero Etana in the Gilgamesh epic.[1012] The name of the hero is Semitic, and signifies 'strong.'[1013] An identical name appears in the Old Testament,[1014] and it is possible that the Babylonian Etana represents, like Gilgamesh, some ancient historical person of whom a dim tradition has survived among other nations besides the Babylonians. The deeds recounted of him, however, place the hero entirely in the domain of myth. His patron is Shamash, the sun-god, and in popular tradition he becomes a member of the pantheon of the nether world.
In the portions of the Etana legend preserved,[1015] two episodes are detailed in the hero's career, one regarding the birth of a son, the other a miraculous journey. The former episode justifies the assumption of a historical starting-point for the legend of Etana.[1016] Among many nations the birth of a hero or of a hero's son is pictured as taking place under great difficulties. Etana's wife is in distress because she is unable to bring to the world a child which she has conceived. Etana appeals to Shamash. Through the mediation of the priests he has offered sacrifices, and he now prays to Shamash to show him the "plant of birth."
The oracles[1017] have completed my sacrifices, They have completed my free-will offerings to the gods. O Lord, let thy mouth command, And give me the plant of birth, Reveal to me the plant of birth, Bring forth the fruit, grant me an offspring.
Of Shamash's reply only one line is preserved intact, in which he tells Etana:
Take the road, ascend the mountain.
It is presumably upon the mountain that the plant grows whose magical power will insure the happy delivery of the expected offspring. Harper calls attention to a remarkable parallel to this incident which is found in the Armenian and Mandaean legends of the birth of Rustem, the son of Sal. The latter's wife is unable to deliver her child because of its size. Sal, who was reared by an eagle, has in his possession a pinion of the eagle, by means of which he can, when in distress, invoke the presence of the bird. The father throws the pinion into the fire, and the eagle appears. The latter gives the mother a medicinal potion, and the child is cut out of the womb. Etana, like Rustem, is accompanied by an eagle, and it would appear that the eagle aids Etana in obtaining the plant.[1018] The eagle, in many mythologies, is a symbol of the sun, and it is plausible to conclude that the bird is sent to Etana at the instigation of Shamash. Who the son is that Etana expects we are not told, and naturally from a single episode like this—and one so fragmentarily preserved—no safe conclusions may be drawn. But the epic (if we may apply this term) must have recounted some achievements of Etana, and as the 'strong' one, his deeds must have borne some resemblance to those of Gilgamesh. The birth of the son, it is furthermore fair to presume, took place towards the end of Etana's career, when his own life was drawing to a close. If a fragment[1019] of the tale were only better preserved, we would have an episode of Etana's earlier career. But such is the condition of this fragment that, at the most, it can be said that Etana is engaged in some conflict against a city, in which Ishtar, Bel, the Anunnaki, the Igigi, and some minor gods, as En-ninna, Sibittum, are involved. The Etana series, as we learn from the colophon to this fragment, was known by a designation in which a city[1020] occurs, and it may be that this is the city against which Etana, aided by the gods, proceeds. Leaving this aside, it is fortunate that we have at least another episode in Etana's career which enables us to establish the connecting link between the hero as an historical personage and as a god or demi-god. As Gilgamesh offers an insult to Ishtar, so Etana encounters the ill-will of the great goddess, though through no direct offense. The eagle tempts Etana to mount with him into the upper regions. Etana is represented as giving, in part, an account of this adventure, in the first person. The gates of the upper regions are opened, and Etana is terrified at the majestic sight which greets him. He sees a throne, and throws himself on his countenance in terror. The gates are significantly designated as the gate of Anu, Bel, and Ea, and the gate of Sin, Shamash, Ramman, and Ishtar. The introduction of the two classes of the theological triads[1021] reveals the influence of a scholastic elaboration of some popular myth. The eagle reassures Etana, and addresses him as follows:
My friend lift up (?) [thy countenance], Come and let me carry thee to the heaven [of Anu]. On my breast place thy breast, On my pinion place thy palms, On my side place thy side.
Etana obeys, and thus, securely attached to the eagle, begins the daring journey. They fly for the space of a double hour,[1022] when
The eagle addresses Etana: Look, my friend, how the earth appears; Look at the sea and at its side, the house of wisdom;[1023] The earth appears as a mountain, the sea has become a pool (?). A second double hour he (i.e., the eagle) carried him on high. The eagle spoke to Etana: Look, my friend, how the earth appears; The sea is a mere belt (?) around the earth. A third double hour he carried him on high. The eagle spoke to Etana: Look, my friend, how the earth appears; The sea is a mere gardener's ditch.[1024]
In this way they reach the gate of Anu, Bel, and Ea in safety, where they take a rest. The eagle is not yet satisfied, and urges Etana to follow him to the domain of Ishtar.
Come, my friend [let me carry thee to Ishtar], With Ishtar, the mistress [of the gods, thou shall dwell], In the glory of Ishtar, the mistress of the gods, [thou shall sit?]. On my side place thy side, On my pinion place thy palms.
The gods, it will be seen, dwell on high in accordance with the view developed by astronomical speculations.[1025] Anu, Bel, and Ea are here evidently identified with the fixed stars bearing their names,[1026] while under Ishtar the planet Ishtar-Venus is meant. Etana yields to the eagle's suggestion. They mount still higher. Earth and ocean grow still smaller, the former appearing only as large as 'a garden bed,' the latter like 'a courtyard.' For three double hours they fly. Etana appears to warn the eagle to desist from his rash intention, but the warning comes too late. Etana and the eagle are thrown down from the lofty regions. With lightning speed the descent takes place, until the two reach the ground. The further course of the narrative is obscure. Was Etana punished by being sent to the nether world, where we find him in the Gilgamesh epic?[1027] There is a reference, unfortunately quite obscure, to the death of Etana, and perhaps to his shade,[1028] in a portion of the tablet. One certainly expects both Etana and the eagle to be punished for their rash act, but until we can determine with certainty what became of both, and with what purport the tale is introduced into the career of Etana, the question must be left open, as also the possibility of a connection between this flight of Etana and the similar Greek myth of Ganymede. The introduction of the eagle points clearly to the mythological character of the tale, but flights of eagles occur so frequently in the myths and legends of various nations that no great stress is to be laid upon further parallels that might be adduced.[1029] The story found in Aelian and which has already been referred to[1030] alone calls for mention here. According to this story, Gilgamesh, whose birth is feared by his cruel grandfather Sokkaros, king of Babylonia, is thrown from the tower where his mother was imprisoned and in which he was born, but in falling is caught by an eagle and taken to a gardener who rears the child. The eagle being the associate of Etana, the suspicion is justified that the child thus miraculously saved is in reality Etana and not Gilgamesh. At all events, there must be some connection between the story of Aelian and the Babylonian legend under consideration. The fate of the eagle is recounted in another tablet of the Etana series,[1031] which again furnishes an episode paralleled in the mythologies of other nations.
The eagle has lost favor with Shamash. Enmity has arisen between the eagle and the serpent, and, curiously enough, the latter stands under the protection of the sun-god. What the cause of the enmity between eagle and serpent was, may have been recounted in a missing portion of the tablet. The eagle forms a plan of destroying the serpent's brood. He is warned against this act by a young eagle, who is designated as a 'very clever young one.'
Do not eat, O my father, the net of Shamash is laid (?); The trap, the ban of Shamash, will fall upon thee and catch thee. Who transgresses the law of Shamash, from him Shamash will exact revenge.
But the eagle, we are told, paid no heed to the warning.
He descended and ate of the young of the serpent.
The serpent appeals to Shamash. He tells the sun-god of the cruel deed of the eagle:
See, O Shamash, the evil that he has done to me. Help (?), O Shamash, thy net is the broad earth. Thy trap is the distant heavens. Who can escape thy net?[1032] Zu,[1033] the worker of evil, the source of evil [did not escape?[1034]].
Shamash responds to the appeal:
Upon his hearing the lament of the serpent, Shamash opened his mouth and spoke to the serpent: Go and ascend the mountain; The carcass of a wild ox make thy hiding-place. Open him, tear open his belly. Make a dwelling place [of his belly]. All the birds of heaven will come down; The eagle with them will come down.
...
Upon penetrating to the meat he will hastily proceed, Making for the hidden parts.[1035] As soon as he has reached the inside,[1036] seize him by his wing, Tear out his wing, his feather (?), his pinion, Tear him to pieces, and throw him into a corner, To die a death of hunger and thirst.
This devilish plan is successfully carried out. With considerable skill the narrative describes how the eagle, suspecting some mischief, did not join the other birds, but when he saw that they escaped without harm felt reassured. He tells his brood:
Come, let us go and let us also pounce down upon the carcass of the wild ox and eat, we too.
The eagle is again warned by his "very clever" offspring. The rest of his brood join in the appeal, but
He did not hearken to them, and obeyed not the advice of his brood, He swooped down and stood upon the wild ox.
Still, he is not entirely free from suspicion, and the narrative continues:
The eagle inspected the carcass, looking carefully to the front and behind him. He again inspected the carcass, looking carefully to the front and behind him.
Detecting nothing to justify his suspicions, he digs his beak into the carcass, but scarcely has he done so when the serpent seizes hold of him. The eagle cries for mercy, and promises the serpent a present of whatever he desires. The serpent is relentless. To release the eagle would be to play false to Shamash.
If I release thee ... Thy punishment will be transferred to me.
Thus the serpent justifies what he is about to do. In accordance with the instructions of the sun-god, the eagle is stripped of his wings and feathers, and left to die a miserable death. In its present form this tale of the eagle and serpent forms part of the Etana story.[1037] Jeremias is right in questioning whether it originally had anything to do with Etana.[1038] Two distinct stories have been combined, much as in the Gilgamesh epic several tales have been thrown together. The association of Etana with the eagle suggests the introduction of the episode of the eagle's discomfiture. If one may judge of the two episodes related of Etana, he is not a personage regarded with favor by the compilers. In both episodes we find him in distress. His flight with the eagle is regarded as a defiance of the gods, though more blame attaches to the eagle than to him. Shamash can hardly have regarded with favor the ambition of a human being to mount to the dwelling of the gods. Gilgamesh makes no such attempt, and Parnapishtim is not carried on high, but to "the confluence of the streams." Gilgamesh, it will also be recalled, is unable to pass to the nether world where Eabani is placed, and in the following chapter we will come across a tale intended to illustrate the impossibility of any one ever returning from the hollow under the earth where the dead dwell. The story of Etana appears, therefore, to emphasize the equal impossibility for any mortal to ascend to the dwelling of the gods. Etana is deified, but he belongs permanently to the region where all mortals go after their career on earth is ended,—the nether world. One gains the impression, therefore, that Etana is a hero of antiquity who is not approved of by the Babylonian priests. Similarly, the conflict between the eagle and the serpent suggests an opposition to the view which makes the eagle the symbol and messenger of Shamash. The eagle recalls the winged disc, the symbol of Ashur,[1039] and the eagle occurs also as a standard among the Hittites,[1040] with whom, as we know, the Babylonians came into contact. The story of Shamash, himself, laying the trap for the eagle looks like a myth produced with some specific intent, an illustration of legitimate sun-worship against rival cults. As a matter of course, in the case of such a myth, it is difficult to say where its popular character ends and the speculative or scholastic theory begins. But whatever may have been the original purport of the tale, for our purposes its significance consists in the view unfolded of Shamash as the one who wreaks vengeance on the evil-doer. Shamash appears in the episode in the role of the just judge that characterizes him in the hymns and incantations. Etana's reliance upon the eagle leads to disgrace and defeat. In a representation of the hero's flight on a seal cylinder,[1041] the disapproval of the act is indicated by the addition of two dogs in a crouching position, their gaze directed towards the bird. The dogs are a symbol of the solar-god Marduk.[1042]
The Legend of Dibbarra.
Of more direct religious import is a story recounted in a series comprising five tablets of the deeds of the war and plague-god whose name is provisionally read Dibbarra.[1043] He is a solar deity identified in the theological system of the Babylonians with Nergal, but originally distinct and in all probability one of the numerous local solar deities of Babylonia like Nin-girsu and Nin-gishzida, Ishum and others, whose roles are absorbed by one or the other of the four great solar deities,—Shamash, Marduk, Ninib, and Nergal. Nergal representing the sun of midday and of the summer solstice, which brings in its wake destruction of various kinds, it was appropriate that a god who came to be specifically viewed as the god who causes disease should be regarded as an aspect of the terrible Nergal. In the legend that we are about to consider, Dibbarra appears as the god of war. He is designated as the 'warrior.' The name of the god is written ideographically with a sign that has the meaning of 'servant' and 'man.' To this sign the phonetic complement ra is added. In view of a passage in a lexicographical tablet, according to which the name of the god is designated as the equivalent of the god Gir-ra, Jensen concluded that the name was to be read Gira, and Delitzsch[1044] is inclined to follow him. A difficulty, however, arises through the circumstance that the element Gir in the name Gir-ra is itself an ideograph. In any case, the designation of the god as a 'servant' shows that he is described here by an epithet,[1045] and not by his real name, which is to be sought rather in the sense of 'strong,' that is one of the meanings of the ideograph gir. The epithet 'servant' belongs to the period when the god took his place in the theological system as one of the attendants of the great Nergal, just as the plague-god is himself accompanied by a god Ishum, who acts as a kind of messenger or attendant to him. It should be added that what little evidence there was for the conventional reading Dibbarra[1046] has now been dispelled, so that but for the desire to avoid useless additions to the nomenclature of the Babylonian deities, the form Gir-ra would have been introduced here, as for the present preferable.
Where the cult of Dibbarra centered we do not know, but that he presided over a district that must have played a prominent part at some period of Babylonian history is shown by the elaborate legend of his deeds for which, as in the case of Gilgamesh and Etana, we are justified in assuming an historical background. In fact, the legend of Dibbarra is naught but a poetic and semi-mythical disguise for severe conflicts waged against certain Babylonian cities by some rival power that had its seat likewise in the Euphrates Valley.
Of the five tablets, but four fragments have as yet been found in such a condition as to be utilized. The longest of these contains an address to Dibbarra by his faithful attendant Ishum, in which the power of the war-god is praised and some of his deeds recounted.
[The sons of] Babylon were (as) birds And thou their falconer. In a net thou didst catch them, enclose them, and destroy them, O! Warrior Dibbara, Leaving the city,[1047] thou didst pass to the outside, Taking on the form of a lion, thou didst enter the palace. The people saw thee and drew (?) their weapons.
The reference in these lines is to an attack upon the city of Babylon. The war-god is pictured as striking out in all directions, imprisoning the inhabitants of Babylon within the city walls, working havoc outside of the city, and not stopping short at entering the palace. The metaphor of the war-god taking on the form of a lion confirms the identification of Dibbarra with Nergal, who is generally pictured as a lion.
In the following lines the enemy who makes this attack on Babylon is introduced. He is designated as a 'governor,' and Dibbarra is represented as giving him certain instructions to carry out. The title 'governor' given to this enemy may be taken as an indication that the epic deals with the rivalry existing among the states of Babylonia, each represented by its capital. Ishum continues his address to Dibbarra:
The heart of the governor, intent upon taking vengeance on Babylon, was enraged, For capturing the possessions of the enemy, he sends out his army, Filled with enmity towards the people.
Dibbarra is represented as addressing this governor:
In the city whither I send thee, Thou shall fear no one, nor have compassion. Kill the young and old alike, The tender suckling likewise—spare no one. The treasures of Babylon carry off as booty.
Ishum continues his narrative:
The royal host was gathered together and entered the city. The bow was strung, the sword unsheathed. Thou didst blunt[1048] (?) the weapons of the soldiers, The servitors of Anu and Dagan. Their blood thou caused to flow like torrents of water through the city's highways. Thou didst tear open their intestines, and cause the stream to carry them off.
Dagan is here used for Bel,[1049] and the phrase 'servitors of Anu and Dagan' embraces the inhabitants of Babylon. Marduk, the lord of Babylon, is enraged at the sight, but apparently is powerless.
The great lord Marduk saw it and cried "Alas!" His senses left him. A violent curse issued from his mouth.
At this point the tablet is defective, and when it again becomes intelligible we find Ishum describing an attack of Dibbarra upon another of the great centers of the Euphrates Valley—the city of Uruk. Uruk is called the 'dwelling of Anu and Ishtar,' the city of the Kizreti, Ukhati, and Kharimati[1050]—the sacred harlots. Uruk suffers the same fate as Babylon:
A cruel and wicked governor thou didst place over them, Who brought misery upon them, broke down (?) their laws. Ishtar was enraged and filled with anger because of Uruk.
Her opposition, however, is as powerless to stem Dibbarra's attack as was Marduk's grief at the onslaught on Babylon.
Dibbarra's greed is insatiable. Ishum continues his address to him:
O warrior Dibbarra, thou dost dispatch the just, Thou dost dispatch the unjust, Who sins against thee, thou dost dispatch, And the one who does not sin against thee thou dost dispatch.
The following lines reveal the purpose of Ishum's long speech. A war more terrible even than the conflicts recounted is planned by Ishum, one that is to involve all creation and extend to the higher regions. Ishum asks Dibbarra's consent to the fearful destruction held in view:
The brightness of Shul-pauddu[1051] I will destroy. The root of the tree I will tear out That it no longer blossom; Against the dwelling of the king of gods, I will proceed.... The warrior Dibbarra heard him.[1052] The speech of Ishum was pleasant to him as fine oil, And thus the warrior Dibbarra spoke: Sea-coast [against] sea-coast, Subartu against Subartu, Assyrian against Assyrian, Elamite against Elamite, Cassite against Cassite, Sutaean against Sutaean, Kuthaean against Kuthaean, Lullubite against Lullubite, Country against country, house against house, man against man. Brother is to show no mercy towards brother; they shall kill one another.
The lines remind one of the description in the Gilgamesh epic of the terror aroused by the deluge,[1053] and one might be tempted to combine Dibbarra's speech with the preceding words of Ishum, and interpret this part of the Dibbarra legend as another phase of the same nature myth, which enters as a factor in the narrative of the Deluge. However, the continuation of Dibbarra's speech shows that a great military conflict is foretold. The countries named are those adjacent to Babylonia, and the intention of the writer is evidently to imply that the whole world is to be stirred up. This fearful state of hostility is to continue until
After a time the Akkadian will come, Overthrow all and conquer all of them.
Akkad, it will be recalled, is a name for Babylonia. The triumph of Babylon is foretold in these lines. The Akkadian is, therefore, none other than Hammurabi, who succeeds in obtaining the supremacy over the entire Euphrates Valley, and whose successors for many centuries claimed control of the four quarters of the world.
It is evident from this 'prophecy' that the Dibbarra legend received its final shape under influences emanating from Babylon, precisely as we found to be the case in the 'creation' story and in the Gilgamesh epic. The hostility that precedes the coming of Hammurabi points to the violence of the conflicts in which that warrior was engaged, while the exaggeration of this hostility shows how strong and permanent the impression of Hammurabi's achievements must have been. The designation of the conqueror as the Akkadian gives him to a certain extent the character of a Messiah, who is to inaugurate an era of peace, and whose coming will appease the grim Dibbarra. It is by no means impossible that Hebrew and Christian conceptions of a general warfare which is to precede the golden age of peace are influenced by the Babylonian legend under consideration.
Dibbarra gives his consent to Ishum's plan:
Go, Ishum, carry out the word thou hast spoken in accordance with thy desire.
Ishum proceeds to do so. The mountain Khi-khi is the first to be attacked.
Ishum directed his countenance to the mountain Khi-khi. The god Sibi,[1054] a warrior without rival, Stormed behind him. The warrior[1055] arrived at the mountain Khi-khi. He raised his hand, destroyed the mountain. He levelled the mountain Khi-khi to the ground. The vineyards in the forest of Khashur he destroyed.
In a geographical list[1056] a mountain Khi-khi, belonging to the Amoritic country, is mentioned, and a mountain Khashur described as a cedar district. There can be, therefore, no doubt that some military expedition to western lands is recounted in our tablet. The continuation of the narrative is lost, all but a small fragment,[1057] which tells of the destruction of a city—otherwise unknown—called Inmarmaru. At the instigation of Dibbarra, Ishum enters this city and destroys it. The outrages committed are described at some length. Ea, the god of humanity, hears of the havoc wrought. He is 'filled with wrath.' Unfortunately, the fragment is too mutilated to permit us to ascertain what steps Ea takes against Dibbarra. Marduk is also mentioned in this connection. Under the circumstances, one can only conjecture that in the missing portions of this tablet, and perhaps also in two others, the wars preceding the advent of the Akkadian[1058] are recounted in poetic and semi-mythical form. If this conjecture is justified, the main purport at least of the Dibbarra legend becomes clear. It is a collection of war-songs recalling the Hebrew anthology, "Battles of Yahwe,"[1059] in which the military exploits of the Hebrews were poetically set forth.
The closing tablet of the Dibbarra legend is preserved,[1060] though only in part. It describes the appeasement of the dreadful war-god. All the gods, together with the Igigi and Anunnaki, are gathered around Dibbarra, who addresses them:
Listen all of you to my words. Because of sin did I formerly plan evil, My heart was enraged and I swept peoples away.
He tells how he destroyed the flocks and devastated the fruits in the fields, how he swept over the lands, punishing the just and the wicked alike, and sparing no one. Ishum takes up the strain and urges Dibbarra to desist from his wrath:
Do thou appease the gods of the land, who were angry, May fruits (?) and corn[1061] flourish, May mountains and seas bring their produce.
The era of peace and prosperity is thus inaugurated, and the legend closes with solemn assurances from Dibbarra that he will bless and protect those who properly honor him.
He who glorifies my name will rule the world. Who proclaims the glory of my power Will be without a rival. The singer who sings [of my deeds] will not die through pestilence. To kings and nobles his words will be pleasing. The writer who preserves them will escape from the grasp of the enemy. In the temple where the people proclaim my name I will open his ear;[1062] In the house where this tablet is set up, though war[1063] may rage, And god Sibi work havoc, Sword and pestilence will not touch him—he will dwell in safety. Let this song resound forever and endure for eternity. Let all lands hear it and proclaim my power. Let the inhabitants of all places learn to glorify my name.
This closing address represents a late addition to the poem that somewhat modifies its original import. Wars did not cease with the establishment of Babylon's control. Many conflicts arose, but on the whole, Babylonia was an empire of peace. The people were inclined towards a life of ease, and the development of commerce served as a wholesome check against too frequent military disturbances. The war-songs, as a glorification of the nation's past, retained their popularity, but the lesson drawn from the songs was the great blessing that peace and freedom from turmoil brought with them. For the warlike Assyrians, Dibbarra enraged may have been a more popular figure, but to the peace-loving Babylonian, the appeased Dibbarra appealed with greater force. The story of Dibbarra's deeds became in this way in the course of time an object lesson, a kind of religious allegory handed down from one generation to the other as an illustration of the horrors of war and of violence in general. With the tendency—so characteristic of the Babylonian religion[1064]—for great gods to absorb the roles of minor ones, Nergal became the god of war par excellence, while Dibbarra, Ishum, and Sibi were chiefly viewed as powers responsible for such forms of violence as pestilence and distress. To ensure the favor of a god of pestilence was of importance for every individual, and one of the safest means of obtaining this favor was to sing his praises, to recall his power,—to glorify him and thus to keep him, as it were, in good humor. What better means of accomplishing this than to have the record of his deeds constantly before one's eyes? The British Museum contains two specimens of tablets on which a portion of the Dibbarra legend is inscribed, and which are pierced with holes in a manner as to leave no doubt[1065] that the tablets were intended to be hung up in houses with a view of securing protection from Dibbarra and his associates. The reference in the closing lines of the story:
The house where this tablet is set up,
thus becomes clear. As the Hebrews were commanded, in order to secure the protection of Yahwe, to write his law
On the doorposts of the house,[1066]
so the Babylonians were instructed by their priests to hang tablets in their homes—probably at the entrance—on which Dibbarra was glorified. Naturally, it was impossible to inscribe the whole story on a little tablet, just as it was impossible to place the entire law of Yahwe on the doorposts. In both cases a significant extract served as a part, representative of the whole. In the case of the Dibbarra legend, the closing portion was selected, which emphasized the necessity of keeping the deeds of Dibbarra and the greatness of his power in mind. Like the Gilgamesh epic, so the Dibbarra legend was to be taught by the father to his son. The scribes were enjoined to teach the story to the people. The poets were to make it the subject of their songs, and kings and nobles were not exempt from the obligation to listen to the tale.
The Myth of the Storm-God Zu.
Birds and bulls were to the Babylonians the symbols of storms and clouds. In the Gilgamesh epic, it will be recalled, Anu sends a divine bull to engage in a contest with Gilgamesh.[1067] The text of the epic being unfortunately defective, we have no definite indication of the character of the attack to be made upon the hero by the messenger from the god of heaven; but since storms and disease are the two chief weapons in the hands of the gods, and inasmuch as Gilgamesh in a later section of the epic is struck down by disease, it is more than likely that the bull represents a storm that is to sweep the hero and his companion off the earth. The winged bulls placed at the entrance of palaces embody the same idea, and in addition to the explanation for these fantastic figures above[1068] suggested, it is noteworthy that the two types of animals chosen for this symbolical decoration of edifices, the bull and the lion, again illustrate the same two means at the disposal of the gods for the punishment of man, the bull representing the storms, and the lion being the symbol of Nergal, who is the god of pestilence, as well as of war and of violent destruction in general.
A storm-god symbolized under the form of a bird is Zu. The underlying stem of the word conveys the notion of strength and violence. How bulls came to be chosen as symbols of storms is not altogether clear. Possibly the element of "strength" formed the connecting link in the chain of the association of ideas. In the case of birds, on the other hand, the association is to be sought in the appearance of the clouds during a storm moving across the heavens like a flock of birds. In the Etana legend, a reference occurs to Zu, who, as it would appear, is unable to escape from the control of the supreme judge Shamash.[1069] Zu is there called the chief worker of evil—a kind of arch satan. A story has been found which illustrates an attempt made by the bird Zu to break loose from the control of the sun. A storm was viewed as a conflict between the clouds and the sun, much as an eclipse symbolized a revolt in the heavens. The myth represents the conflict as taking place between Zu and En-lil, the Bel of Nippur. The latter holds in his possession the tablets of fate, by means of which he enjoys supreme authority over men and gods. Zu's jealousy is aroused, and he plans to tear these tablets from En-lil. The tablets of fate, it will be recalled, play an important part in the Marduk-Tiamat episode.[1070] Kingu—the symbol of chaos, like Tiamat—wears them on his breast, but he is obliged to yield them to the conqueror of Tiamat and of her brood, who replaces 'chaos' by 'order.' This conqueror was originally Bel of Nippur, and the Zu myth in representing En-lil as holding the tablets of fate confirms the view above set forth,[1071] according to which the original Tiamat tale has been modified by the substitution of Marduk for the old Bel. But the story, while thus admitting the legitimacy of En-lil's claim to supreme power, is yet so constructed as to contribute to the glory of Marduk. The attack of the Zu-bird was suggested—as the Tiamat myth—by the annual storms that work such havoc in Babylonia. The forces of 'chaos' are let loose, and an attempt is made to overthrow the 'order' of the world, symbolized by the tablets of fate which En-lil holds in his possession. Whoever has these tablets is invincible. But En-lil is unable to resist the attack of Zu. The tablets are taken away from him, and it is left for Marduk to recapture them. The tablets once in Marduk's possession, En-lil's supremacy comes to an end, and the triumph of Marduk is complete. To substantiate this interpretation of the myth, an analysis of the text is necessary. The beginning of the story is unfortunately missing. It appears to have been devoted to a glorification of the god who controls the fate of the universe. The second column opens as follows:
And the oracles of all the gods he determined.
From the context it is clear that Bel of Nippur is meant. Up to this point, the myth reflects the old view according to which it was En-lil who succeeded in overcoming Tiamat or at any rate, in snatching the tablets of fate from the breast of Kingu. Nippur's god lays claim to being the one who established 'order' in the universe. His authority could only be threatened if he were robbed of the tablets which symbolize absolute control over the course of affairs. Zu boldly attempts this:
His eyes saw the mark of rulership, The crown of his[1072] sovereignty, the garment of his[1072] divinity. Zu saw the divine tablets of fate. He looked at the father of the gods, the god of Dur-an-ki,[1073] Desire for rulership seizes hold of his heart.[1074] 'I will take the tablets of the gods And decree the decisions [of all the gods.] I will establish my throne, I will proclaim laws. I will give all orders to all the Igigi.'
Zu proceeds to the dwelling-place of En-lil and waits for a favorable moment to make an attack.
His heart was bent on the contest. With his gaze directed toward the entrance of the dwelling,[1075] he awaits for the beginning of day. As En-lil poured forth the brilliant waters, Took his seat on his throne and put on his crown, He[1076] snatched the tablets of fate out of his hands, Seized the authority—the promulgation of laws. Thereupon Zu flew off and hid himself in his mountain.
On seal cylinders a god is frequently pictured pouring forth streams of water from jars placed on his shoulders. This is generally the sun-god, but the symbol also seems to belong to other deities[1077] and is appropriate to Bel of Nippur, who as the god of the atmosphere above the earth, controls the upper waters. As long as these are poured out by him, they are beneficent; but once beyond his control, the blessing of rain is turned into the curse of a deluge and storm, flooding the fields and sweeping away the habitations of men. This misfortune happens when Zu robs En-lil of the tablets by means of which law and order are established. En-lil is powerless. The bold act of Zu causes consternation among the gods. Anu calls upon some one to pursue Zu and capture him. The bird dwells in an inaccessible recess in the mountains, and the gods are afraid to approach his nest. The scene that ensues reminds us of the episode of the creation epic, where Anshar calls upon Anu, Bel, and Ea in turn to subdue Tiamat.
Anu opens his mouth and speaks, Addressing the gods his children: 'Who will force Zu to submit And thus make his name great among the inhabitants of the whole world?'
Ramman the storm-god par excellence is first called upon by the assembled gods:
'Ramman the chief,' they cried, 'the son of Anu.' Anu communicated to him[1078] the order.[1079] 'Go, my son Ramman, conqueror who yields to no one, Subdue Zu with thy weapon,[1080] That thy name be glorified in the assembly of the great gods. Thou shall be without a rival among the gods thy brothers.'
Anu furthermore promises Ramman that if he triumphs, lofty shrines will be erected in his honor in many cities.
'Temples will be built in thy honor, In all quarters of the world thy cities[1081] will be situated, Thy cities[1082] will reach up to Ekur.[1083] Show thyself strong among the gods, so that thy name be powerful.'
Ramman, however, is afraid of the contest.
Ramman answered the speech, Addressing his father Anu: 'My father, who can proceed to the inaccessible mountain? Who is there like Zu among the gods, thy children?'
He furthermore pleads that Zu, who has the tablets of fate in his hands, is invincible. He has the power to decree the fates of the gods, and all must bow to his will. At this point, unfortunately, the text becomes defective. Anu calls upon two other gods to take up the contest with Zu. The name of one of these is altogether lost; the second is called Bar,[1084] and is designated as an offspring of Ishtar. Both these deities decline, answering Anu in precisely the same manner as Ramman. What finally happens we are left to conjecture. Harper[1085] supposes that Shamash is finally called upon by Anu and accepts the challenge. He bases this opinion upon the passage in the Dibbarra legend[1086] where the serpent, appealing to Shamash, extols the sun-god's power by declaring that even Zu could not escape the net of Shamash. There are, however, grave objections to this view. In the first place, the passage in question occurs in a defective part of the text, and Harper himself[1087] is not certain of the restoration that he proposes.[1088] Secondly, if Shamash conquers Zu, we should expect the sun-god to have the tablets of fate in his possession. Such, however, is not the case, and the only god besides En-lil who is represented in the religious literature of the Babylonians as holding the tablets is Marduk. Moreover, in a hymn to Marduk, which Harper himself quotes,[1089] the bird Zu is referred to as among the evil forces captured by Marduk. In view of this, there seems no reason to question that, in the present form of the Zu myth, Marduk was introduced as the hero, precisely as, in the present form of the Tiamat episode, Marduk successfully carries out a deed from which the other gods shrink in fear. The theological purport of the myth thus becomes clear. It is to account for the fact that Marduk holds the tablets which were originally in the hands of En-lil. Marduk supplants the old Bel. In the Tiamat episode his name is substituted for that of En-lil, and the latter is represented as giving his consent to the transfer of his name to the god of Babylon. In the Zu myth, En-lil's claim to the supreme control of the laws and fate of the universe is freely acknowledged, but, En-lil being unable to resist the attack of Zu, it was left for Marduk to capture the bird and thus acquire by his own efforts what the old Bel had lost through lack of strength. Babylon replaces Nippur as the center of power in the Euphrates Valley, and the god of Babylon, naturally, was imbued by his worshippers with prerogatives that originally belonged to the rival god of Nippur.[1090]
If this view is correct, Harper's interpretation must be abandoned. The Zu myth does not represent, as he supposes, an attack upon Marduk as the symbol of the early morning sun, but upon En-lil, the Bel of Nippur, as the one who, by virtue of having the tablets of fate in his possession, controls the laws of the universe and fixes the fate of the gods and of mankind. The annual rain-storm passing apparently beyond the control of the gods is viewed as a revolt against En-lil's authority. It is left for Marduk to reestablish order, and in return, he retains control of the precious tablets. That the conception of Marduk as a solar deity constitutes a factor in the myth is not, of course, to be denied, precisely as in the Tiamat myth, the solar character of Marduk plays an important part. The sun triumphs over the storms. Rain and wind are obliged at last to yield their authority to the former. But for the theologians of Babylon, the position of Marduk as the head of the pantheon was a much more important factor. The myth served to show how Marduk came to supplant the role of the old Bel of Nippur.
Viewed in this light, the Zu myth appears in more senses than one as a pendant to the Marduk-Tiamat episode. Not only do both symbolize the same natural phenomenon, but in both, Bel of Nippur was originally the central figure of the pantheon, and in both Marduk replaces Bel. The Zu myth is made to account in a somewhat more respectful, conciliatory manner for the position of Marduk as the head of the pantheon. Instead of setting aside En-lil altogether, as was done by the compilers of the Tiamat myth, Marduk conquers for himself the supremacy that his followers claimed for him. The contradictions between the two myths need not disturb us. As variant versions of a tale intended to account for one and the same fact,—the supremacy of Marduk,—they may well have arisen even in the same place. Such inconsistencies as the assumption, in the Zu version of the nature myth, that En-lil is the original establisher of order in the world, as against the Tiamat version where Marduk snatches the tablets of fate directly from Kingu, are inevitable when stories that arose among the people are taken in hand by theologians and modified and adapted to serve doctrines developed under scholastic influences.
The Adapa Legend.
The myths and legends that we have so far considered—including the creation and Gilgamesh epics—will have illustrated two important points: firstly, the manner in which historical occurrences were clothed in mythical form and interwoven with purely legendary tales, and, secondly, the way in which nature myths were treated to teach certain doctrines. The story of Gilgamesh is an illustration of the hopelessness of a mortal's attempt to secure the kind of immortal life which is the prerogative of the gods. Popular tales, illustrative of the climatic conditions of Babylonia, serve as a means of unfolding a doctrine of evolution and of impressing upon the people a theological system of beliefs regarding the relationship of the gods to one another. A collection of war-songs is given a semi-mythical form, and the original purport of the collection is modified to serve as a talisman against misfortunes. In the case of these legends it is necessary and, as we have seen, also possible to distinguish between their original and present form and to separate the story, as in the case of the Gilgamesh epic, into its component parts.
The legend that we are about to consider proves that this process of the adaptation of popular myths begins at a very early period. The text was found on the cuneiform tablets discovered at El-Amarna in Egypt.[1091] Since the El-Amarna tablets date from the fifteenth century B.C., we have a proof of the compilation of the legend in question at this date. The legend is again suggested by the storms which visited Babylonia, but instead of a pure nature-myth, we have a tale which concerns the relationship between the gods and mankind. In its present form, it is an object lesson dealing with the same problem that we came across in the Gilgamesh epic and that we will meet again in another form,—the problem of immortality.
The beginning of the story, as in the case of the Zu myth, is missing, but we are in a position to restore at least the general context. A fisherman, Adapa, is engaged in plying his trade when a storm arises. Adapa is designated as the son of Ea. The place where he is fishing is spoken of as 'the sea.' The Persian Gulf is meant, and this body of water (as the beginning of the great Okeanos) being sacred to Ea,[1092] the description of Adapa as the son of Ea is a way of conveying the idea that, like Parnapishtim, he stands under the protection of Ea. The story, like most legends, assumes a period of close intercourse between gods and men, a time when the relationship involved in being 'a son of a god' had a literal force which was lost to a more advanced generation. Adapa, accordingly, is portrayed as fishing for the 'house of his lord,' i.e., for Ea. When the storm breaks loose the fisherman, though a mortal, subdues the fierce element. The storm comes from the south, the direction from which the most destructive winds came to Babylonia. The south wind is pictured, as in the Zu myth, under the form of a bird. The wind sweeps Adapa into the waters, but, since this element is controlled by Adapa's father,—the god Ea,—Adapa succeeds in mastering the south wind, and, as we learn from the course of the narrative, in breaking the wings of the storm-bird. When the tablet becomes intelligible we find Adapa engaged in this contest with the south wind.[1093]
The south wind blew and drove him[1094] under the water. Into the dwelling-place[1095] [of the fish] it engulfs him. 'O south wind, thou hast overwhelmed me with thy cruelty (?). Thy wings I will break.'
Adapa's threat is carried out.
Even as he spoke the wings of the south wind were broken. For seven days the south wind did not blow across the land.
Seven is to be interpreted as a round number, as in the Deluge story, and indicates a rather long, though indefinite, period. Anu, the god of heaven, is astonished at this long-continued disappearance of the south wind, and asks a messenger of his, who is called the god Ilabrat, for the cause. Anu inquires:
"Why has the south wind not blown for seven days across the land?" His messenger Ilabrat answered him: "My lord! Adapa, the son of Ea, has broken the wings of the south wind."
Of this god Ilabrat nothing is known. The interpretation of his name is doubtful.[1096] He probably is one of the numerous local gods who was absorbed by some more powerful one and who thus came to have a position of inferior rank in the pantheon.
Anu, upon hearing the news, is enraged, and cries for 'help' against an interference in his domain. He denounces Adapa in solemn assembly, and demands his presence of Ea, in whose domain Adapa has taken refuge. The text at this point is defective, but one can gather that Ea, who constitutes himself Adapa's protector, warns the latter, as he warned Parnapishtim. He advises him to present himself at the throne of Anu for trial, and to secure the intervention of two gods, Tammuz and Gishzida, who are stationed at the gate of heaven, Anu's dwelling-place. To accomplish this, Adapa is to clothe himself in garments of mourning, and when the doorkeepers ask him the reason for his mourning, he is to answer:
... Two gods have disappeared from our earth, therefore do I appear thus.
And when he is asked:
"Who are the two gods who have disappeared from the earth?"
Tammuz and Gishzida will look at one another; they will sigh and speak a favorable word before Anu, and the glorious countenance of Anu they will show thee.
Tammuz and Gishzida will know that they are meant. The mourning of Adapa will be regarded as a sign of reverence for the two gods, whose sympathy and good-will will thus be secured.
The introduction of Tammuz and Gishzida introduces a widely spread nature-myth into the story. Gishzida is identical with Nin-gishzida, a solar deity whom we came across in the old Babylonian pantheon.[1097] Tammuz similarly is a solar deity. Both represent local solar cults. At a later period, Nin-gishzida is entirely absorbed by Ninib, but the Adapa legend affords us a glimpse of the god still occupying an independent, though already inferior, position. The Babylonian calendar[1098] designates the fifth month as sacred to Gishzida, while the fourth month is named for Tammuz. The two deities, therefore, take their place in the systematized pantheon as symbolical of the phases of the sun peculiar to its approach to the summer solstice. The disappearance of the two gods signifies the decline of the year after the summer solstice. Of Tammuz, the popular myth related that it was Ishtar,[1099] represented as his consort, who carried him off. Since the disappearance of Gishzida embodies precisely the same idea as that of Tammuz, it was natural that the story should in time have been told only of the one. The annual mourning for Tammuz was maintained in Babylonia to a very late period. The Adapa legend shows us that at one time the festival was celebrated in honor of the two related deities. The Tammuz festival was celebrated just before the summer solstice set in, so that the mourning was followed immediately by rejoicing at the reappearance of the god whose coming heralded the culmination of vegetation.
The destructive storms take place during the winter, when Tammuz and Gishzida have disappeared. Adapa's mourning is thus an indication of the season of the year when his encounter with the south wind took place. Since Adapa succeeds in overcoming the destructive wind, the wintry season has passed by. Summer is approaching. The time for celebrating both the fast and the festival of the two solar deities has arrived. Tammuz and Gishzida, the gods of spring, accordingly stand at Adapa's side, ready to plead his cause before Anu. So much being clear, we may advance a step further in the interpretation of the legend. By the side of Tammuz and Gishzida, there is still a third solar deity who belongs to the spring of the year,—Marduk, who, by virtue of his later position as the head of the pantheon, sets aside his two fellows and becomes the solar god of spring par excellence. Marduk, it will be recalled, is commonly designated as the son of Ea,[1100] and we have seen that, apart from political considerations, the sun rising out of the ocean—the domain of Ea—was a factor in this association. Adapa dwells at the sea, and is forced into the ocean by the south wind, in the same way that the sun dips into the great 'Okeanos' every evening. The identification of Adapa with Marduk[1101] thus becomes apparent, and as a matter of fact the Babylonian scribes of later times[1102] accepted this identification.
The basis of the Adapa legend is, therefore, the nature-myth of the annual fight of the sun with the violent elements of nature. At the same time, other ideas have been introduced into it, and Adapa himself, while playing the role of Marduk, is yet not entirely confounded with this god. His name is never written with the determinative for deity. Moreover, the nature-myth is soon lost sight of, in order to make room for an entirely different order of ideas. The real purport of the legend in its present form is foreshadowed by the further advice that Ea offers to Adapa:
When thou comest before Anu they will offer thee food of death. Do not eat. They will offer thee waters of death. Do not drink. They will offer thee a garment. Put it on. They will offer thee oil. Anoint thyself. The order that I give thee do not neglect. The word that I speak to thee take to heart. The messenger of Anu approached.[1103] 'Adapa has broken the wings of the south wind. Deliver him into my hands....'
Ea obeys the order, delivers up Adapa, and everything happens as was foretold.
Upon mounting to heaven and on his approach to the gate of Anu, Tammuz and Gishzida were stationed at the gate of Anu. They saw Adapa and cried 'Help,[1104] Lord! Why art thou thus attired? For whom hast thou put on mourning?'[1105]
Adapa replies:
'Two gods have disappeared from the earth, therefore do I wear a mourning garment.'
'Who are the two gods who have disappeared from the earth?'
Tammuz and Gishzida looked at one another, broke out in lament. 'O Adapa! Step before King Anu.' As he approached, Anu saw him and cried out to him:
'Come, Adapa, why hast thou broken the wings of the south wind?'
Adapa answered Anu: 'My lord! For the house of my lord[1106] I was fishing in the midst of the sea. The waters lay still around me, when the south wind began to blow and forced me underneath. Into the dwelling of the fish it drove me. In the anger of my heart [I broke the wings of the south wind].'
Tammuz and Gishzida thereupon intercede with Anu on behalf of Adapa, and succeed in appeasing the god's wrath. If the story ended here, we would have a pure nature-myth—the same myth in a different form that we encountered in the Creation epic, in the Deluge story, and in the Zu legend. Adapa would be merely a designation of Marduk and nothing more. The sun triumphs over the storms, and the only objectionable feature in the tale—to a Babylonian—would be the degradation involved in obliging Marduk to secure the intercession of other gods. But this feature of itself suggests that the nature-myth has been embodied in the legend, but does not constitute the whole of it. A second element and one entirely independent in its character has been added to the myth.
Anu is appeased, but he is astonished at Ea's patronage of Adapa, as a result of which a mortal has actually appeared in a place set aside for the gods.
Why did Ea permit an impure mortal to see the interior of heaven and earth? He made him great and gave him fame.[1107]
The privilege accorded to Adapa appears to alarm the gods. As among the Greeks and other nations, so also the Babylonian deities were not free from jealousy at the power and achievements of humanity. Adapa, having viewed the secrets of heaven and earth, there was nothing left for the gods but to admit him into their circle. The narrative accordingly continues:
'Now what shall we grant him? Offer him food of life, that he may eat of it.' They brought it to him, but he did not eat. Waters of life they brought him, but he did not drink. A garment they brought him. He put it on. Oil they brought him. He anointed himself.
Adapa follows the instructions of Ea, but the latter, it will be recalled, tells Adapa that food and water of death will be offered him. It is Ea, therefore, who, although the god of humanity, and who, moreover, according to the tradition involved in the Adapa legend, is the creator of mankind, who prevents his creatures from gaining immortality. The situation is very much the same that we find in the third chapter of Genesis, when God, who creates man, takes precautions lest mortals eat of the tree of life and 'live forever.' The problem presented by the Hebrew and Babylonian stories is the same: why should not man, who is descended from the gods, who is created in the likeness of a god, who by virtue of his intellect can peer into the secrets of heaven and earth, who stands superior to the rest of creation, who, to use the psalmist's figure, is only 'a scale lower than god,' why should he not be like the gods and live forever? The Hebrew legend solves the problem in a franker way than does the Babylonian. God, while as anxious as Ea to keep man from eating of the tree of life, cautions Adam against the act, whereas Ea practises a deception in order to prevent man from eating. That in both tales eternal life is contained in food points again (as we have found to be the case with the Biblical narratives of Creation and of the Deluge) to a common source for the two traditions. Similarly the phrase 'waters of life' is a figure of speech of frequent occurrence in Biblical literature in both the Old and the New Testaments. It is no argument against a common source for the Hebrew and Babylonian stories explaining how man came to forego immortality, that the waters of life should be found in the one and not in the other. If we assume with Gunkel[1108] that the stories embodied in the first chapters of Genesis were long current among the Hebrews before they were given a permanent form, the adaptation of old traditions to an entirely new order of beliefs involves a casting aside of features that could not be used and a discarding of such as seemed superfluous. The striking departures in the case of the Hebrew legends from their Babylonian counterparts are as full of significance as the striking agreements between the two. The departures and agreements must both be accounted for. For both there are reasons. So, to emphasize only one point, in a monotheistic solution of the problem under consideration, there was no place for any conflict among the gods. In Genesis God simply wills that man should not eat of the tree of life. In the Adapa legend the gods, including Anu, are willing to grant a mortal the food and water of life, simply because they believe that Ea, the creator of man, wishes him to have it. Accordingly, Anu and his associates are represented at the close of the legend as being grieved that Adapa should have foregone the privilege.
Anu looked at him[1109] and lamented over him. 'Come, Adapa, why didst thou not eat and not drink? Now thou canst not live.'
Adapa replies, unconscious of the deception practised on him:
'Ea, my lord, commanded me not to eat and not to drink.'
Adapa returns to the earth. What his subsequent fate is we do not know, for the tablet here comes to an end. It is possible that he learns what Ea has done, and that the god gives him the reason for the deception practised. A scene of this kind could not find a place in the Hebrew version that emphasizes the supreme authority of a power besides whom none other was recognized. God acts alone.
Adam, it will be recalled, after eating of the fruit of the tree of knowledge, makes a garment for himself. There can be no doubt that there is a close connection between this tradition and the feature in the Adapa legend, where Adapa, who has been shown the 'secrets of heaven and earth,'—that is, has acquired knowledge,—is commanded by Ea to put on the garment that is offered him. The anointing oneself with oil, though an essential part of the toilet in the ancient and modern Orient, was discarded in the Hebrew tale as a superfluous feature. The idea conveyed by the use of oil was the same as the one indicated in clothing one's nakedness. Both are symbols of civilization which man is permitted to attain, but his development stops there. He cannot secure eternal life.
On the other hand, in comparing the Hebrew and Babylonian versions of the problem of knowledge and immortality, one cannot help being struck by the pessimistic tone of the former as against the more consolatory spirit of the latter. God does not want man to attain even knowledge.[1110] He secures it in disobedience to the divine will, whereas Ea willingly grants him the knowledge of all there is in heaven and earth. In this way the Hebrew and Babylonian mind, each developed the common tradition in its own way.
Leaving the comparison aside and coming back for a moment to the Adapa story, it is interesting to observe that as we have two tales, both intended to explain the position of Marduk at the head of the pantheon, the one by making him the conqueror of Tiamat and forcing from Kingu the tablets of fate, the other by representing him as recovering from Zu the tablets which En-lil, who originally held them, could not protect against the storm-bird, so we have two solutions offered for the problem of immortality. The one in the Gilgamesh epic, where the hero is told of the plant of life, succeeds in finding it, but as he is about to eat the 'food' loses his grasp upon it. The exertions of man are in vain. True, there is Parnapishtim, a mortal who with his wife has obtained immortal life. He is the exception that proves the rule. Moreover, it is Bel, and not Ea, who places Parnapishtim 'at the confluence of streams,' there to live forever, and Bel does this as a proof of his pacification, a kind of indemnity offered to Ea for having destroyed the offspring of the god of humanity. The Adapa legend attacks the problem more seriously. Ea, the same god who has created man, endowed him with wisdom, bestowed all manner of benefits upon him, Ea, who protects humanity against Anu, against Bel, and other gods, Ea himself deceives man. Evidently the lesson that the Babylonian theologians intended to teach through the Adapa legend was, that it was not good for man to 'live forever.' Ea himself prevents it. That is the point of the story. Anu and the other gods are satisfied, but Ea does not desire it, and Ea's decision cannot be to the disadvantage of mankind, so dearly beloved by him. With this conclusion humanity must be content—and be resigned to the inevitable.
Of the various legends that we have been considering, the story of Adapa is perhaps the most significant, and none the less so for the manner in which a philosophical problem has been grafted on to a nature-myth. Adapa is made to play the role of Marduk, and it is nothing short of remarkable that at so early a period as the one to which the existence of the story can be traced back, a nature-myth should have been diverted from its original purpose and adapted to the end that the Adapa story serves in its present form. The process involved in this adaptation is a complicated one. The story serves as an evidence of the intellectual activity displayed in the schools of theological thought that must have flourished for many centuries before a story like that of Adapa could have been produced out of a nature-myth. Hardly less remarkable is it that the theologians and scribes of later times no longer understood the story, for otherwise they would not have identified Adapa with Marduk through the superficial circumstance that he is introduced into the story instead of Marduk, or some other solar deity allied to Marduk.
The Adapa legend takes us back to the beginning of man's career—to the time when, as in the early chapters of Genesis, man stood closer to the gods than at a later time, the time when there was a constant intercourse between man and the gods, and more especially between man and his protector, Ea. The story forms part of a stock of traditions of which we have another specimen in the Eabani-Ukhat episode, incorporated in the Gilgamesh epic.[1111] No doubt when the treasures still existing in the British Museum shall have been thoroughly examined and as additional remains of the religious literature of the Babylonians will be brought to light, we will find further traces of these early traditions as well as of other myths. Those that we have discussed in this and in the preceding chapters illustrate the system adopted by the priests in elaborating these traditions and myths and in adapting them to serve as illustrations of certain doctrines and beliefs. We may also feel tolerably confident that the religious ideas conveyed through these various epics and legends and myths fairly represent both the popular and the advanced thought, as it unfolded itself in the course of time. By the aid of these specimens of the religious literature, we have been enabled to analyze the views of the Babylonians regarding the creation of the world, its structure, and government. We have obtained an insight into the problems of life and death which engaged the Babylonian thinkers, and we have noted some of the solutions offered for these problems. In a consideration of the views held by the Babylonians and Assyrians of the life after death, to which we now turn, it will again be a specimen of the religious literature that will serve as our main guide.
FOOTNOTES:
[1011] Some of these were already indicated (but only indicated) by George Smith in his Chaldaeische Genesis (German translation), pp. 136-142. It is the merit of Dr. E. J. Harper to have prepared an excellent publication of the material contained in Smith's work, pp. 103-120, under the title "Die Babylonischen Legenden von Etana, Zu, Adapa und Dibbarra" (Delitzsch and Haupt's Beitraege zur Assyriologie, ii. 390-521). Additional material is furnished by two publications of mine: (a) a monograph, "A Fragment of the Dibbarra Epic" (Boston, 1891), and (b) "A New Fragment of the Babylonian Etana Legend" (Delitzsch and Haupt's Beitraege zur Assyriologie, iii. 363-381). See also Friedrich Jeremias in Chantepie de la Saussaye's Lehrbuch der Religionsgeschichte (2nd edition), i. 218-221.
[1012] See above, p. 511.
[1013] See my remarks in Delitzsch and Haupt's Beitraege zur Assyriologie, iii. 376.
[1014] I Kings, v. 11.
[1015] Harper in Delitzsch and Haupt's Beitraege zur Assyriologie, ii. 391-408.
[1016] Ib. pp. 405 seq.
[1017] Lit., 'the Inquirers,' a designation of the priests in their capacity of oracle-seekers.
[1018] The matter is not certain because of the sad condition of the fragments.
[1019] K. 2606, Harper, ib. pp. 399, 400.
[1020] Only a part of the name, I-si, is preserved.
[1021] See pp. 108, 163.
[1022] I.e., an army's march of two hours.
[1023] The dwelling of Ea. See Meissner, Alexander and Gilgamos, p. 17.
[1024] I.e., still smaller.
[1025] See above, p. 458.
[1026] See p. 460.
[1027] See p. 511.
[1028] Harper, ib.. p. 404, note.
[1029] See Harper, ib.. pp. 406, 407.
[1030] See above, p. 469.
[1031] Harper, pp. 392-394.
[1032] I.e., one cannot escape from Shamash, since he traverses all space.
[1033] A personification of the storm. See below, pp. 537 seq. The line is very obscure owing to the break in the tablet.
[1034] So Harper, but see pp. 541, 542.
[1035] I.e., he will dig his beak into the juicy part of the meat.
[1036] Of the carcass.
[1037] As shown by the colophon of K. 2606, and also by the fact that K. 1547, which contains on the obverse the tale, contains on the reverse Etana's prayer to Shamash.
[1038] De la Saussaye's Lehrbuch der Religionsgeschichte (2nd edition), i. 218.
[1039] See above, p. 195.
[1040] Perrot and Chiplez, History of Art in Sardinia, Phoenicia, Judea, Syria, and Asia Minor, ii. 176.
[1041] Pinches, Babylonian and Assyrian Cylinders, etc., of Sir Henry Peak, no. 18. Cf. Harper, ib. p. 408.
[1042] A lexicographical tablet, IIR. 56, col. iii. 22-35, mentions four dogs of Marduk.
[1043] See p. 232.
[1044] See Harper, ib. p. 426.
[1045] The ra is either a phonetic complement to the ideograph or is perhaps added to suggest to the reader the identification with Gir-ra.
[1046] Namely, the connection with Hebrew deber, 'pestilence.' Cf. Harper, ib. p. 426.
[1047] Babylon.
[1048] Text obscure. "Sharpen badly" seems to be the idiomatic phrase used.
[1049] See above, p. 154.
[1050] See p. 475.
[1051] A solar deity. See p. 99.
[1052] Ishum.
[1053] See above, p. 501.
[1054] I.e., seven. A collective personification of the seven evil spirits.
[1055] Ishum.
[1056] IIR. 51, 19c and 4a. Khashur is also used as a name for the cedar. See Delitzsch, Assyr. Handwoerterbuch, p. 295a.
[1057] The one published by the writer.
[1058] Hammurabi is the conqueror of Palestine mentioned in Gen. xlv. under the name Amraphel. See, e.g., Hommel, Altisraelitische Ueberlieferung, p. 106.
[1059] Num. xxi. 14. The 'song of Deborah' (Judges, v.) belongs to this collection. For further specimens of Babylonian war-songs, see Hommel, ib. pp. 180-190,—all dealing with the memorable Hammurabi period.
[1060] K. 1282, Harper, ib., pp. 432 seq., and King's fragment, Zeitschrift fuer Assyriologie, xl. 60, 61.
[1061] The gods of vegetation are mentioned.
[1062] I.e., give wisdom to the one who honors me.
[1063] Text 'Dibbarra.'
[1064] See above, p. 114.
[1065] As Mr. King has shown (Zeitschrift fuer Assyriologie, xi. 53). See above, p. 269.
[1066] Deut. vi. 9.
[1067] See p. 483.
[1068] See p. 263.
[1069] See p. 525.
[1070] See p. 420, 428.
[1071] See pp. 439 seq.
[1072] I.e., En-lil's.
[1073] I.e., 'the bond of heaven and earth,' the name probably of a temple-tower in Nippur, sacred to En-lil.
[1074] Zu's heart. These two lines are repeated.
[1075] The word Kissu applies more especially to the dwelling places of the gods. Delitzsch, Assyr. Handwoerterbuch, p. 349b.
[1076] Zu.
[1077] See e.g., Ward, Seal Cylinders of the Metropolitan Museum of Art, p. 12.
[1078] Ramman.
[1079] These two lines are repeated.
[1080] The thunderbolt.
[1081] Cities sacred to thee.
[1082] I.e., the sacred edifices in these cities.
[1083] The lofty dwelling of the gods is here meant. See chapter xxvii.
[1084] Ideographic reading—the ideograph signifies 'shrine.' The verbal stem bararu means 'to shine.'
[1085] See p. 414.
[1086] See p. 525.
[1087] See p. 400.
[1088] It is quite possible that the line in question declares that Zu is in collusion with the eagle, against whom the serpent seeks the assistance of Shamash.
[1089] See p. 417.
[1090] It is hardly possible that the illustration on seal cylinders mentioned by Ward, ib. pp. 13, 14, represents the Zu bird brought before a deity for punishment; and certainly not before Shamash, who only enters into the story in so far as Marduk is a solar deity.
[1091] Published by Winckler and Abel, Der Thontafelfund von El-Amarna, iii. 166a, b; translated also by Harper, ib. pp. 420, 421.
[1092] See above, p. 63.
[1093] My rendering is given in continuous lines. The legend is in narrative, not in poetic form.
[1094] Adapa.
[1095] Lit., 'house.'
[1096] Neither Delitzsch's suggestion 'god of dwellings' nor Harper's 'god thou art strong' is acceptable.
[1097] See p. 99.
[1098] See p. 462.
[1099] See the following chapter.
[1100] See pp. 139 seq.
[1101] First suggested by Zimmern.
[1102] Of the eighth century. See Harper, ib. p. 424.
[1103] To Ea.
[1104] Anu, it will be recalled, utters the same cry. See p. 546.
[1105] Referring to his garments of mourning.
[1106] I.e., Ea.
[1107] I follow Zimmern's rendition of the line.
[1108] Schoepfung und Chaos, pp. 168 seq.
[1109] Adapa.
[1110] The phrase 'knowledge of good and evil' (Gen. ii. 17) is simply an expression equivalent to our 'everything,' or to the Babylonian 'secrets of heaven and earth.'
[1111] See pp. 476 seq. Sayce has even gone so far as to suggest an identification of Adapa (by reading Adawa) with the Biblical Adam, but this conjecture is untenable.
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. |
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