Monotheism.

As the matter of Babylonian monotheism has been publicly touched upon by Fried. Delitzsch in his “Babel und Bibel” lectures, a few words upon that important point will be regarded in all probability as appropriate. It has already been indicated that the giving of the names of “the gods his fathers” to Merodach practically identified them with him, thus leading to a tendency to monotheism. That tendency is, perhaps, hinted at in a letter of Assur-bani-apli to the Babylonians, in which he frequently mentions the Deity, but in doing so, uses either the word ilu, “God,” Merodach, the god of Babylon, or Bel, which may be regarded as one of his names. The most important document for this monotheistic tendency, however (confirming as it does the tablet of the fifty-one names), is that in which at least thirteen of the Babylonian deities are identified with Merodach, and that in such a way as to make them merely forms in which he manifested himself to men. The text of this inscription is as follows:

“. . . is Merodach of planting. Lugal-aki-. . . is Merodach of the water-course. Nirig is Merodach of strength. Nergal is Merodach of war. Zagaga is Merodach of battle. Bel is Merodach of lordship and domination. Nebo is Merodach of trading(?). Sin is Merodach the illuminator of the night. Samas is Merodach of righteous things. Addu is Merodach of rain. Tispak is Merodach of frost(?). Sig is Merodach of green things(?). Suqamunu is Merodach of the irrigation-channel.”

Here the text breaks off, but must have contained several more similar identifications, showing how at least the more thoughtful of the Babylonians of old looked upon the host of gods whom they worshipped. What may be the date of this document is uncertain, but as the colophon seems to describe it as a copy of an older inscription, it may go back as far as 2000 years B.C. This is the period at which the name Yaum-ilu “Jäh is God,” is found, together with numerous references to ilu as the name for the one great god, and is also, roughly, the date of Abraham, who, it may be noted, was a Babylonian of Ur of the Chaldees. It will probably not be thought too venturesome to say that his monotheism was possibly the result of the religious trend of thought in his time.

Dualism.

Damascius, in his valuable account of the belief of the Babylonians concerning the Creation, states that, like the other barbarians, they reject the doctrine of the one origin of the universe, and constitute two, Tauthe (Tiawath) and Apason (Apsu). This twofold principle, however, is only applicable to the system in that it makes of the sea and the deep (for such are the meanings of the two words) two personages the female and the male personifications of primaeval matter, from which all creation sprang, and which gave birth to the gods of heaven themselves. As far as the physical constituents of these two principals are concerned, their tenets might be described as having “materialistic monism” as their basis, but inasmuch as they believed that each of these two principals had a mind, the description “idealistic monism” cannot be applied to it it is distinctly a dualism.

And Monism.

Divested of its idealistic side, however, there would seem to be no escape from regarding the Babylonian idea of the origin of things as monistic. This idea has its reflection, though not its reproduction, in the first chapter of Genesis, in which, verses 2, 6, and 7, water is represented as the first thing existing, though not the first abode of life. This divergency from the Babylonian view was inevitable with a monotheistic nation, such as the Jews were, regarding as they did the Deity as the great source of everything existing. What effect the moving of the Spirit of God upon the face of the waters was supposed by them to have had, is uncertain, but it is to be noted that it was the land (v, 12) which first brought forth, at the command of God.

The future life.

The belief in a future life is the natural outcome of a religious belief such as the Babylonians, Assyrians, and many of the surrounding nations possessed. As has been shown, a portion of their creed consisted in hero-worship, which pre-supposes that the heroes in question continued to exist, in a state of still greater power and glory, after the conclusion of their life here upon earth.

“The god Bel hates me I cannot dwell in this land, and in the territory of Bel I cannot set my face. I shall descend then to the Abyss; with Aa my lord shall I constantly dwell.” It is with these words that, by the counsel of the god Aa, Ut-napistim explained to those who questioned him the reason why he was building the ship or ark which was to save him and his from the Flood, and there is but little doubt that the author of the story implied that he announced thereby his approaching death, or his departure to dwell with his god without passing the dread portals of the great leveller. This belief in the life beyond the grave seems to have been that which was current during the final centuries of the third millennium before Christ when a man died, it was said that his god took him to himself, and we may therefore suppose, that there were as many heavens places of contentment and bliss as there were gods, and that every good man was regarded as going and dwelling evermore with the deity which he had worshipped and served faithfully during his lifetime.

Gilgames, the half-divine king of Erech, who reigned during the half-mythical period, on losing his friend and counsellor, Enki-du, set out to find him, and to bring him back, if possible, from the underworld where he was supposed to dwell. His death, however, had not been like that of an ordinary man; it was not Namtaru, the spirit of fate, who had taken him, nor a misfortune such as befalls ordinary men, but Nerigal’s unsparing lier-in-wait yet though Nerigal was the god of war, Enki-du had not fallen on the battlefield of men, but had been seized by the earth (apparently the underworld where the wicked are is meant) in consequence, seemingly, of some trick or trap which had been laid for him.

The gods were therefore prayed, in turn, to bring him back, but none of them listened except Ea, who begged him of Nerigal, whereupon the latter opened the entrance to the place where he was the hole of the earth and brought forth “the spirit (utukku) of Enki-du like mist.” Immediately after this come the words, “Tell, my friend, tell, my friend the law of the land which thou sawest, tell,” and the answer, “I will not tell thee, friend, I will not tell thee if I tell thee the law of the land which I saw, . . . sit down, weep.” Ultimately, however, the person appealed to apparently the disembodied Enki-du reveals something concerning the condition of the souls in the place of his sojourn after death, as follows:

“Whom thou sawest [die] the death(?) [of] . . . [I see] In the resting-place of . . . reposing, pure waters he drinketh. Whom in the battle thou sawest killed, I see His father and his mother raise his head, And his wife upon [him leaneth?]. Whose corpse thou hast seen thrown down in the plain, I see His edimmu in the earth reposeth not. Whose edimmu thou sawest without a caretaker, I see The leavings of the dish, the remains of the food, Which in the street is thrown, he eateth.”

It is naturally difficult to decide in a passage like this, the difference existing between a man’s utukku and his edimmu, but the probability is, that the former means his spiritual essence, whilst the latter stands for the ghostly shadow of his body, resembling in meaning the ka of the Egyptians. To all appearance the abode described above is not the place of the punishment of the wicked, but the dwelling of those accounted good, who, if lucky in the manner of their death, and the disposal of their bodies, enjoyed the highest happiness in the habitation of the blest. The other place, however, is otherwise described (it occurs in the account of Istar’s descent into Hades, and in the seventh tablet of the Gilgames series the latter differing somewhat):

“Upon the land of No-return, the region of . . ., [Set] Istar, daughter of Sin, her ear. The daughter of Sin set then her ear . . . Upon the house of gloom, the seat of Irkalla Upon the house whose entrance hath no exit, Upon the path whose way hath no return, Upon the house whose enterers are deprived of light, Where dust is their nourishment, their food mud, Light they see not, in darkness they dwell, Clothed also, like a bird, in a dress of feathers. Upon the door and bolt the dust hath blown.”

Seven gates gave access to this place of gloom, and the porter, as he let the visitor in, took from her (the goddess Istar in the narrative) at each an article of clothing, until, at the last, she entered quite naked, apparently typifying the fact that a man can take nothing with him when he dieth, and also, in this case, that he has not even his good deeds wherewith to clothe himself, for had they outweighed his evil ones, he would not have found himself in that dread abode.

On the arrival of Istar in Hades, Ères-ki-gal commanded Namtaru, the god of fate, to smite Istar with disease in all her members eyes, sides, feet, heart, and head. As things went wrong on the earth in consequence of the absence of the goddess of love, the gods sent a messenger to effect her release. When he reached the land of No-return, the queen of the region threatened him with all kinds of torments the food of the gutters of the city were to be his food, the oil-jars of the city (naptha?) his drink, the gloom of the castle his resting-place, a stone slab his seat, and hunger and thirst were to shatter his strength. These were evidently the punishments inflicted there, but as the messenger threatened was a divine one, they were probably not put into execution, and he obtained his demand, for Istar was set free, receiving back at each gate, in reverse order, the clothing and ornaments which had been taken from her when she had descended thither. It is uncertain whether Tammuz, for whom she had gone down, was set free also, but as he is referred to, it is not improbable that this was the case.