{"collection":"myth-cosmogony","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_71562/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_71562","id":"gutenberg_71562","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/71562","summary":null,"tags":["Assyro-Babylonian religion","Category: Archaeology & Anthropology","Category: History - Ancient","Category: Religion/Spirituality","Greece -- Religion","Mythology, Assyro-Babylonian","Mythology, Greek"],"text":"GREECE and BABYLON\n\n A COMPARATIVE SKETCH OF\n MESOPOTAMIAN, ANATOLIAN\n AND HELLENIC RELIGIONS\n\n BY\n LEWIS R. FARNELL, D.Litt., M.A.\n FELLOW OF EXETER COLLEGE, OXFORD\n AUTHOR OF\n \u201cCULTS OF THE GREEK STATES,\u201d \u201cEVOLUTION OF RELIGION,\u201d\n \u201cHIGHER ASPECTS OF GREEK RELIGION\u201d (HIBBERT LECTURES)\n\n\n\n\n Edinburgh: T. & T. CLARK, 38 George Street\n 1911\n\n\n\n\n [IMPRINT.]\n\n _Printed by_\n Morrison & Gibb Limited,\n FOR\n T. & T. CLARK, EDINBURGH.\n LONDON: SIMPKIN, MARSHALL, HAMILTON, KENT, AND CO. LIMITED.\n NEW YORK: CHARLES SCRIBNER\u2019S SONS.\n\n\n\n\n [DEDICATION.]\n\n TO\n Dr. HENRY WILDE\n THE FOUNDER OF THE WILDE LECTURESHIP\n IN NATURAL AND COMPARATIVE RELIGION\n IN THE UNIVERSITY OF OXFORD\n THESE FIRST-FRUITS OF HIS ENDOWMENT\n ARE DEDICATED\n BY\n THE FIRST WILDE LECTURER\n\n\nExeter College, Oxford,\n\n_November_ 1911.\n\n\n\n\nCONTENTS.\n\n{vii}\n\n CHAPTER I.\n Inaugural Lecture\n\n CHAPTER II.\n Statement of the Problem and the Evidence.\n\nIndebtedness of primitive Greek religion to Mesopotamian\ninfluences--Various kinds of evidence to be considered: Texts and\nMonuments of Mesopotamia, Syria, Canaan, Hittite Kingdom, Asia-Minor\ncoast, Minoan-Mycenaean area--Necessity of determining when the\nNorth-Aryan tribes entered Greece, and what they brought with\nthem--Influences from Mesopotamia on Greece of the second millennium\nat least not direct--Precariousness of theory of religious\nborrowing--Special lines that the inquiry will pursue\n\n CHAPTER III.\n Morphology of the Compared Religions.\n\nDistinction between nature religions and ethical religions\nunsound--The degree of personality in the cult-objects a better\ncriterion--The earliest system known in Mesopotamia a polytheism with\npersonal deities, but containing certain products of animism and\npolydaimonism--Other Semitic and non-Semitic peoples of Asia Minor,\nthe Minoan-Mycenaean races, the earliest Greek tribes, already on the\nplane of personal theism in the second millennium B.C.\n\n CHAPTER IV.\n Anthropomorphism and Theriomorphism in Anatolia and the Mediterranean.\n\nMesopotamian religious conception generally anthropomorphic, but the\nanthropomorphism \u201cunstable\u201d--Theriomorphic {viii} features, especially\nof daimoniac powers--Mystic imagination often\ntheriomorphic--Individuality of deities sometimes indistinct--Female\nand male sometimes fused--The person becomes the Word--Similar\nphenomena in other Semitic peoples--Theriolatry more prominent in\nHittite religion, though anthropomorphism the prevalent idea--The\nMinoan-Mycenaean religion also mainly anthropomorphic--The evidence of\ntheriolatry often misinterpreted--The proto-Hellenic religion partly\ntheriomorphic--Some traces of theriolatry even in later period, in\nspite of strong bias towards anthropomorphism\n\n CHAPTER V.\n Predominance of the Goddess.\n\nImportance of the phenomenon in the history of religions--In\nMesopotamia and other Semitic regions the chief deity male, except\nAstarte at Sidon--Evidence from Hittite kingdoms doubtful, but at\npoints on the Asia-Minor coast, such as Ephesos, and notably in\nPhrygia, the supremacy of the goddess well attested--The same true on\nthe whole of Cretan religion--The earliest Hellenes, like other Aryan\ncommunities, probably inclined to exalt the male deity, and did not\ndevelop the cult of Virgin goddesses--Therefore Athena and Artemis\nprobably pre-Hellenic\n\n CHAPTER VI.\n The Deities as Nature-Powers.\n\nShamash the sun-god derives his personal character from the\nnature-phenomenon; but the Babylonian deities develop their\npersonality independently of their nature-origin, which is often\ndoubtful--Importance of Sin, the moon-god--Star-worship in Babylonian\ncult--No clear recognition of an earth-goddess--Tammuz a\nvegetation-power--Western Canaanites worship nature-deities in the\nsecond millennium, probably with moral attributes--The Hittites a\nthunder-god and corn-god--The Phrygians a mother-goddess of the earth\nand lower world--On the whole, pre-Homeric Hellas worships ethical\npersonalities rather than nature-powers--Distinguished from\nMesopotamia by comparative insignificance of solar, lunar, astral\ncults--Also by the great prominence of the earth-goddess and the\nassociation of certain eschatological ideas with her\n\n{ix}\n\n CHAPTER VII.\n The Deities as Social-Powers.\n\nThe religious origin of the city--Slight evidence from Mesopotamia,\nmore from early Greece--Early Mesopotamian kingship of divine\ntype--The king inspired and occasionally worshipped--The Hittite\nmonuments show the divine associations of the king--Proto-Hellenic\nkingship probably of similar character--Social usages protected by\nreligion in the whole of this area--No family cult of the hearth at\nBabylon--The code of Hammurabi--Comparatively secular in its\nenactments concerning homicide--Religious feeling perceptible in the\nlaws concerning incest--The legal system attached to religion at\ncertain points, but on the whole, independent of it--In early Hellas\nthe religion an equally strong social force, but many of its social\nmanifestations different--Religion tribal and \u201cphratric\u201d in Greece;\nnot so in Babylon--Purification from bloodshed could not have been\nborrowed from Mesopotamia\n\n CHAPTER VIII.\n Religion and Morality.\n\nThe deity conceived on the whole as beneficent and righteous, but the\ndivine destructive power more emphasised in Babylonia--Every\nBabylonian deity moralised, not every Hellenic--In both societies\nperjury a sin, untruthfulness only in Babylonian religious\ntheory--International morality--The ethics of the family very vital in\nboth societies, but more complex in Babylonia--Ritualistic tabus a\nheavier burden on the Babylonian conscience--Morality more daimonistic\nthan in Greece--In the Babylonian confessional stress laid on unknown\ninvoluntary sin, hence tendency to pessimism--In Greece less timidity\nof conscience, less prominence of magic--Mercifulness a prominent\ndivine attribute in both religions--More pantheistic thought and a\nclearer sense of the divinity of all life in Babylonian theology, as\nin the Tammuz-myth\n\n CHAPTER IX.\n Purity a Divine Attribute.\n\nRitual purity generally demanded--Babylonian mythology far purer than\nthe Greek--Character of Ishtar--Virginity a divine attribute--Mystic\nconception of a virgin-mother, the evidence examined in East and West\n\n{x}\n\n CHAPTER X.\n Concept of Divine Power and Ancient Cosmogonies.\n\nNeither in Babylon nor Greece any clear and consistently maintained\ndogma of divine omnipotence--Yet the divinities collectively the\nstrongest power in the universe--No developed theory of dualism--The\ndivine power combined with magic in Babylonia, but not in Greece--No\nearly Hellenic consciousness of the Word as a creative force--The\nmagic power of the divine name felt by the Hellenes, but not realised\nas a creative force--Babylonian cosmogonies not traceable in the\nearliest Greek mythology, nor in Hesiod, but the myth of Typhoeus\nprobably from Babylonian sources--Babylonian myths concerning creation\nof man not known in early Greece--Organisation of the polytheism into\ndivine groups--Evidence of Trinitarian idea and of monotheistic\ntendency--No proof here of Greek indebtedness to Mesopotamia\n\n CHAPTER XI.\n The Religious Temperament of the Eastern and Western Peoples.\n\nThe relation of the individual to the deity more intimate in\nMesopotamia than in Greece--The religious temper more ecstatic, more\nprone to self-abasement, sentimentality, rapture--Humility and the\nfear of God ethical virtues in Babylonia--The child named after the\ngod in both societies--In some Semitic communities the deity takes a\ntitle from the worshipper--Fanaticism in Mesopotamian religion, entire\nabsence of it in the Hellenic\n\n CHAPTER XII.\n Eschatologic Ideas of East and West.\n\nGeneral resemblances between Mesopotamian and early Hellenic rites of\ntendance of dead--Mesopotamian theory of the lower world gloomier--The\nterror of the spectre stronger in the East than in the West; yet both\nfear the miasma of the dead--In both, the literary evidence clashes\nsomewhat with the evidence from the graves--Certain important\ndifferences in tendance of dead--Water essential in later Babylonian,\nwine and the triple libation in early Hellenic--Hero-cult strong in\nearly Hellas, at least very rare in Mesopotamia--Hellenic idea of\nre-incarnation not {xi} yet found in Babylonian records--The evocation\nof ghosts, and the periodic meals with or in memory of the dead,\ncommon to both peoples--General All Souls\u2019 festival--But in Babylonia\nno popular belief in posthumous punishments and rewards--The powers of\nthe lower world more gloomy and repellent than in Hellas--No mysteries\nto develop the germs of a brighter eschatologic faith\n\n CHAPTER XIII.\n Comparison of the Ritual.\n\nIn the second millennium all Semitic communities had evolved the\ntemple, and Babylonia the idol--In Greece, temple-building was coming\ninto vogue, but the cults still aniconic--The pillar and the phallic\nemblem common in early Greece, very rare in Mesopotamia--Sacrifice\nboth in East and West of two types, the blood-sacrifice and the\nbloodless, but in Hellas \u03bd\u03b7\u03c6\u03ac\u03bb\u03b9\u03b1 \u1f31\u03b5\u03c1\u03ac in early vogue, not yet found in\nthe East--Incense unknown to the pre-Homeric Greeks--The distinction\nbetween Chthonian and Olympian ritual not found at\nBabylon--Communion-sacrifice and sacrament in early Greece, not found\nas yet in Mesopotamia--Vicarious piacular sacrifice common to both\nregions, but human sacrifice rife in early Greece, not found in\nMesopotamia--Mystic use of blood in Greek ritual, immolation or\nexpulsion of the scape-goat not yet discovered in Mesopotamia--The\ndeath of the divinity in Babylonian ritual--Mourning for Tammuz--In\nother Semitic communities--In Hittite worship, Sandon of Tarsos--Attis\nof Phrygia--Emasculation in Phrygian ritual, alien to Babylonian as to\nHellenic religious sentiment--Death of divinity in Cretan ritual, and\nin Cyprus--In genuine Hellenic religion, found only in agrarian\nhero-cults, such as Linos, Eunostos; these having no connection with\nTammuz--Babylonian liturgy mainly a service of sorrow, Greek mainly\ncheerful--A holy marriage at Babylon, on Hittite relief at\nBoghaz-Keui, in Minoan and Hellenic ritual--A mortal the consort of\ndivinity, an idea found in many races widely removed--Greek\nevidence--Consecrated women in Mesopotamia, two types--Their functions\nto be distinguished from the consecration of virginity before marriage\nmentioned by Herodotus--Other examples of one or the other of these\ncustoms in Asia Minor--Various explanations of these customs offered\nby anthropology--Criticism of different views--Their religious\nsignificance--Ritual of purification--Cathartic use of water and\nfire--Preservation of peace during public purification--Points of\nagreement between Hellas and {xii} Babylonia--Points of difference,\nBabylonian confessional--Value of Homer\u2019s evidence concerning early\nHellenic purification--Babylonian magic in general contrast with\nGreek--Astrologic magic--Magic value of numbers, of the\nword--Babylonian exorcism--Magic use of images--No severance in\nMesopotamia between magic and religion--Babylonian and Hellenic\ndivination\n\n CHAPTER XIV.\n Summary of Results.\n\n INDEX OF NAMES AND SUBJECTS.\n\n ENDNOTES.\n\n\n\n\n GREECE AND BABYLON.\n\n{1}\n\n CHAPTER I.\n Inaugural Lecture.\n\nThe newly-elected holder of a University professorship or\nlectureship, before embarking on the course of special discussion that\nhe has selected, may be allowed or expected to present some outlined\naccount of the whole subject that he represents, and to state\nbeforehand, if possible, the line that he proposes to pursue in regard\nto it. This is all the more incumbent on me, as I have the honour to\nbe the first Wilde Lecturer in Natural and Comparative Religion--the\nfirst, that is, who has been officially charged by the University to\ngive public teaching in the most modern and one of the most difficult\nfields of study, one that has already borne copious fruit, and will\nbear more in the future. I appreciate highly the honour of such a\ncharge, and I take this opportunity of expressing my deep sense of the\nindebtedness of our University and of all students of this subject to\nDr. Wilde for his generous endowment of this branch of research, which\nas yet has only found encouragement in a few Universities of Europe,\nAmerica, and Japan. I feel also the responsibility of my charge. Years\nof study have shown me the magnitude of the subject, the pitfalls that\nhere--more, perhaps, {2} than in other fields--beset the unwary, and\nthe multiplicity of aspects from which it may be studied. Having no\npredecessor, I cannot follow, but may be called upon rather to set, a\nprecedent.\n\nOne guidance, at least, I have--namely, the expressed wishes of the\nfounder of this post. He has formulated them in regard to Comparative\nReligion in such a way that I feel precluded, in handling this part of\nthe whole field, from what may be called the primitive anthropology of\nreligion. I shall not, therefore, deal directly with the embryology of\nthe subject, with merely savage religious psychology, ritual, or\ninstitutions. It is not that I do not feel myself the fascination of\nthese subjects of inquiry, and their inevitableness for one who wishes\nwholly to understand the whole of any one of the higher\nworld-religions.\n\nBut we have in the University one accomplished exponent of these\nthemes in Mr. Marett, and until recently we have been privileged to\npossess Professor Tylor; and Dr. Wilde has made his wishes clear that\nthe exposition of Comparative Religion should be mainly an elucidation\nand comparison of the higher forms and ideas in the more advanced\nreligions. And I can cheerfully accept this limitation, as for years I\nhave been occupied with the minute study of the religion of Greece, in\nwhich one finds much, indeed, that is primitive, even savage, but much\nalso of religious thought and religious ethic, unsuspected by former\ngenerations of scholars, that has become a rich inheritance of our\nhigher culture. He who wishes to succeed in this new field of arduous\ninquiry should have studied at least one of the higher religions of\nthe old civilisation _au fond_, and he must have studied it by the\ncomparative method. He may then make this religion the point of\ndeparture for wide {3} excursions into outlying tracts of the more or\nless adjacent religious systems, and he will be the less likely to\nlose himself in the maze and tangle of facts if he can focus the\nvarying light or doubtful glimmer they afford upon the complex set of\nphenomena with which he is already familiar.\n\nAnd the Greek religion serves better than any other that I know for\nsuch a point of departure, the influences being so numerous that\nradiated upon it. It had its own special inheritance, which it\nfruitfully developed, from the North, from its proto-Aryan past, and\nwhich we shall be able to define with greater clearness when\ncomparative religion has done its work upon the religious records of\nthe early Aryan peoples. Also, the Hellene had many intimate points of\ncontact with earlier and alien peoples of the ancient Mediterranean\nculture whom he conquered and partly absorbed, or with whom he entered\ninto intellectual or commercial relations. Therefore the religions of\nthe Minoan Age, of the Anatolian peoples, of Egypt, and finally of\nBabylon and Persia, come inevitably to attract the student of the\nHellenic.\n\nAs far, then, as I can see at present, I may have to limit my\nattention in the lecture-courses of these three years during which I\nfill this post, to the phenomena of the Mediterranean area, and these\nare more than one man can thoroughly elucidate in a lifetime, as the\nmanifold activity in various departments of this field, attested by\nthe Transactions of our recent Congress of the History of Religions,\nwill prove to those who read them. And I shall endeavour in the future\nto follow out one main inquiry through a short series of lectures, as\nthis is the best method for a reasoned statement of consecutive\nthought. But I propose in this lecture to sketch merely in outlines\nthe salient features of some {4} of the religions of the Mediterranean\narea, and hope thereby to indicate the main problems which the student\nof comparative religion must try to solve, or the leading questions he\nmust ask, and thus, perhaps, to be able to suggest to others as well\nas to myself special lines of future research and discussion.\n\nWhat, then, are the questions which naturally arise when we approach\nthe study of any religion that has advanced beyond the primitive\nstage? We wish to discover with definiteness what is the idea of\ndivinity that it has evolved, in what forms and with what concepts\nthis idea is expressed--whether, for instance, the godhead is\nconceived as a vague \u201cnumen,\u201d or as a definite personality with\ncomplex character and functions, and whether it is imagined or\npresented to sense in anthropomorphic forms.\n\nThe question whether the religion is monotheistic or polytheistic is\nusually answered at a glance, unless the record is unusually\ndefective; but in the case of polytheism careful inquiry is often\nneeded to answer the other morphological questions that press\nthemselves upon us, whether the polytheism is an organised system of\nco-ordinated and subordinated powers or a mere medley of uncorrelated\ndeities. If the former, whether the unifying tendency has developed in\nthe direction of monotheism or pantheism.\n\nAgain, the study of the attributes and functions ascribed and the\ntitles attached to the deity will enable us to answer the questions\nconcerning his relation to the world of Nature, to the social sphere\nof law, politics, and morality; and in this quest we may hope to gain\nfruitful suggestions concerning the interaction of religion, social\norganisation, and ethics. We shall also wish to know whether the\nreligion is dogmatic or not--that is {5} to say, whether it lays\nstress on precise theological definitions; whether it claims to\npossess sacred books or a revelation; whether it contains the idea of\nfaith as a cardinal virtue. Further, it is always interesting to\nconsider whether it has engendered a cosmogony, a theory of the\ncosmos, its origin, maintenance, and possible dissolution; and whether\nit is instinctively favourable or antagonistic to the growth of the\nscientific spirit, to the free activity of the intellect; and,\nfinally, whether it gives prominence to the belief in the immortality\nof the soul and to the doctrine of posthumous rewards and punishments.\n\nThere are also certain special questions concerning the nature and\npowers of the divinity that are found to be of importance. The\ndistinction of sex in the anthropomorphic religions, the paramountcy\nof the god or the goddess, is observed to produce a singular effect in\nreligious psychology, and may be associated with fundamental\ndifferences in social institutions, with the distinction, for\ninstance, between a patrilinear and a matrilinear society. As regards\nthe powers attributed to the divinity, we may endeavour to discern\ncertain laws of progress or evolution in progressive societies--an\nevolution, perhaps, from a more material to a more spiritual\nconception, or, again, from a belief in divinities finite and mortal\nto a dogma that infinity, omniscience, and immortality are their\nnecessary attributes. On this line of inquiry we are often confronted\nwith the phenomenon of the death of the god or goddess, and no single\nfact in the history of religions is of more interest and of more\nweight. Also, we frequently find an antagonism between malevolent and\nbenevolent powers, whence may arise a philosophic conception of\ndualism in Nature and the moral world.\n\n{6}\n\nThere are, further, the questions concerning ritual, often very\nminute, but of none the less significance. What are the forms of\nworship, sacrifice, prayer, adoration? As regards sacrifice, is it\ndeprecatory merely, a bribe to avert wrath, or is it a gift to secure\nfavour, or is it a token of friendly trust and affection, or a mystic\nact of communion which effects between the deity and the worshipper a\ntemporary union of body and soul? In the study of ritual we may\nconsider the position of the priesthood, its power over the religion,\nand through the religion over the State, and the sources of that\npower.\n\nThis enumeration of the problems is long, but I fear by no means\nexhaustive. I have not yet mentioned the question that may\nlegitimately arise, and is the most perplexing of all--that which is\nasked concerning the vital power and influence of a certain religion,\nits strength of appeal, its real control of the people\u2019s thoughts and\nacts. The question, as we know, is difficult enough when we apply it\nto modern societies; it may be quite hopeless when applied to an\nancient State. It is only worth raising when the record is unusually\nample and varied, and of long continuity; when we can believe that it\nenshrines the thoughts of the people, not merely of the priest or of\nthe philosopher. We are more likely to believe this when the record is\nrich not only in literature, but in monuments.\n\nIt may also be demanded that the history of religions should include a\nhistory of their decay, and, in his brilliant address at the recent\nCongress, Professor Petrie has formulated this demand as one that\nEgyptology might fulfil. Certainly it belongs to the scientific\ntreatment of our subject to note the circumstances and operative\ncauses that induced a certain people to abandon their ancestral\nbeliefs and cults; but whether from the {7} careful study of each\nspecial case certain general laws will emerge by process of induction\nmay be doubted. It will depend partly on the completeness of our\nrecords and our skill in their interpretation.\n\nI will conclude this sketch of an ideal programme, which I, as least,\ncan never hope to make actual, with one last query--Is it the main\nobject of this comparative study to answer the inquiry as to the\nreciprocal influences of adjacent religions, to distinguish between\nthe alien and the native elements in any particular system--to\nestimate, for instance, what Greece owed to Babylon, to Egypt, to\nIndia? Certainly the problem is proper to our province, is attractive,\nand even hopeful, and I have ventured to approach it myself. But I\nshould hesitate to allow that it is the main one, and that the value\nof our study is to be measured by our success in solving it; for,\nwhatever answer we finally give to such questions, or if we abandon in\ndespair the attempt to answer them precisely, it is none the less\nfruitful to compare the Babylonian, Indo-Iranian, Egyptian, and\nHellenic systems of belief--for instance, to consider the Orphic\neschatology in relation to the Buddhistic, even if we reject the\ntheory that Buddhistic influences could have penetrated into early\nOrphism.\n\nI will now sketch what I have perceived to be the higher elements or\nmore developed features in Hellenic religion, and will consider in\nregard to each of these how it contrasts with or resembles the cults\nof the other leading peoples of this area. The Hellenic high divinity\nis, in the first place, no mere shadowy \u201cnumen,\u201d no vague spirit-power\nor semi-personal divine force, such as the old Roman belief often\nseems to present us with, nor is he usually conceived as a divine\nelement immanent in certain things; but he appears as a concrete\npersonal {8} individual of definite physical traits and complex moral\nnature. Vaguer and cruder ideas no doubt survived right through the\nhistoric period, and the primitive ancestor of the Hellene may once\nhave lived in the religious phase of thought in which the personal god\nhas not yet emerged or not yet been detached from the phenomenon or\nthe world of living matter. But I believe that the Greek of the\nhistoric, and even of the Homeric, period had left this phase far more\nremotely behind him than certain modern theorists have lightly\nsupposed, and I am convinced that the proto-Hellenic tribes had\nalready before the conquest of Greece developed the cult of certain\npersonal deities, and that some, at least, of these were the common\nheritage of several tribes. It is quite possible that before they\ncrossed the northern frontier of Greece they found such divinities\namong their Aryan kinsfolk of Thrace, and it is certain that this was\nthe type of religion that they would mainly find among the peoples of\nthe Minoan-Mycenaean culture.\n\nWe discern it also, where the record allows us to discern anything,\namong the nearer and remoter stocks of the Asiatic side of the\nMediterranean area. In the Zend-Avesta, the sacred books of the\nPersian religion, Ahura-Mazda is presented as a noble ethical figure,\na concrete personal god, like Jahw\u00e9 of Israel, whatever his original\nphysical significance may have been. Marduk of Babylon, whom\nHammurabi, the consolidator of the Babylonian power, raised to the\nrank of the high god, may once have been a sun-god, but he transcended\nhis elemental nature, and appears in the records of the third\nmillennium as a political deity, the war-god, and leader of the\npeople, as real a personality as Hammurabi himself. The same is true\nof Asshur, once the local {9} deity of the aboriginal land of the\nAssyrians, but later raised by the imperial expansion of this people\nalmost to the position of a universal god, the guardian of the land,\nthe teacher and the father of the kings; nor can we discern that he\nwas ever an elemental god.\n\nSpeaking generally, in spite of many important differences, we may\nregard the religious structure to which the cults of Anatolia and\nEgypt belonged as morphologically the same as that which I am defining\nas Hellenic. Also, among all these peoples, by the side of the few\nhigher deities who have developed moral personalities, we find special\nelemental divinities, as, in Hellas, we find Helios and the deities of\nthe wind, Hephaistos the fire-god.\n\nThe distinction between the religions of the Hellenes and \u201cthe\nbarbarians,\u201d which Aristophanes defines as the difference between the\nworship of ideal divine personages, such as Zeus, Apollo, and Demeter,\nand the direct worship of elementary powers, such as sun and moon, is\nnot borne out by modern research. Where we find sun-worship or\nmoon-worship in the East, it does not appear to have been directed\nimmediately to the thing itself regarded as a living or animate body,\nbut to a personal god of the sun or the moon--Bel, Shamash, or Sin. We\ncan only distinguish the Greek from the Oriental in respect of\nNature-religion by the lesser degree of devotion that the Hellene\nshowed to it. Only those of his divinities whose names connoted\nnothing in the material or natural world, could develop into free\nmoral personalities, and dominate the religious imagination of the\npeople. Nowhere, for instance, had Helios any high position in the\nGreek world except at Rhodes, where we must reckon with pre-Hellenic,\nMinoan, and later with Semitic influences. Therefore, when, shortly\n{10} before and after the beginning of the Graeco-Roman period, a wave\nof sun-worship welled from the East over the West, it may have brought\nwith it religious ideas of high spirituality and ethical purity, yet\nby the race-consciousness of the Hellenes it must have been judged to\nbe a regress towards a barbaric past.\n\nThe instinct of the Greek in his creation of divine forms shows always\na bias towards the personal and the individual, an aversion to the\namorphous and vague, and herein we may contrast him with the Persian\nand Egyptian. A certain minor phenomenon in these religions will\nillustrate and attest this. All of them admitted by the side of the\nhigh personal deities certain subordinate personages less sharply\nconceived, divine emanations, as we may sometimes call them, or\npersonifications of moral or abstract ideas. Plutarch specially\nmentions the Persian worship of Truth, Goodwill, Law-abidingness,\nWisdom, emanations of Ahura-Mazda, which in the light of the sacred\nbooks we may, perhaps, interpret as the Fravashis or Soul-powers of\nthe High God; and in certain Egyptian myths and religious records we\nhear of a personification of Truth, whose statue is described by the\nsame writer. But at least in the Persian system we may suspect that\nsuch divine beings had little concrete personality, but, rather, were\nconceived vaguely as daimoniac forces, special activities of divine\nforce in the invisible world. Now the Greek of the period when we\nreally know him seems to have been mentally unable to allow his\nconsciousness of these things or these forces to remain just at that\npoint. Once, no doubt, it was after this fashion that his ancestors\ndimly imagined Eros, or the half-personal Curse-power \u1f08\u03c1\u03ac; but he\nhimself could only cherish Eros under the finished and concrete form\nof a {11} beautiful personal god, and the curse was only vitalised for\nhim when it took on the form of the personal Erinys. This topic is a\nfruitful one, and I hope to develop it on a later occasion.\n\nIt suggests what is now the next matter I wish to touch on--the\ncomparison of the Mediterranean religions in respect of their\nanthropomorphism. Philosophically, the term might be censured as\nfailing to distinguish any special type of religion; for we should all\nadmit that man can only envisage the unseen world in forms\nintelligible to his own mind and reflecting his own mental structure.\nBut, apart from this truism, we find that religions differ essentially\nand vitally according as this anthropomorphism is vague and indefinite\nor sharply defined and dominating; according as they picture the\ndivinity as the exact though idealised counterpart of man, and\nconstruct the divine society purely on the lines of the human, or\nrefrain from doing this either through weakness and obscurity of\nimagination or in deference to a different and perhaps more elevated\nlaw of the religious intellect. Now, of the Hellenic religion no\nfeature is salient as its anthropomorphism, and throughout its whole\ndevelopment and career the anthropomorphic principle has been more\ndominating and imperious than it has ever been found to be in other\nreligions.[11.1] At what remote period in the evolution of the\nHellenic mind this principle began in force, what were the influences\nthat fostered and strengthened it, in what various ways it shaped the\nreligious history of the Hellenic people, are questions that I may be\nable to treat more in detail in the future. {12} But there are two\nimportant phenomena that I will indicate now, which we must associate\nwith it, and which afford us an illuminating point of view from which\nwe may contrast the Greek world and the Oriental. In the first place,\nthe anthropomorphic principle, combining with an artistic faculty the\nhighest that the world has known, produced in Greece a unique form of\nidolatry; and, in the second place, in consequence chiefly of this\nidolatry, the purely Hellenic religion remained almost incapable of\nthat which we call mysticism.\n\nNow, much remains still to be thought out, especially for those\ninterested in Mediterranean culture, concerning the influence of\nidolatry on religion; and not only the history, but the psychology of\nreligion, must note and estimate the influence of religious art. It\nmay well be that the primitive Greeks, like the primitive Roman, the\nearly Teuton, and Indo-Iranian stocks, were non-idolatrous, and this\nappears to have been true to some extent of the Minoan culture.\nNevertheless, the Mediterranean area has from time immemorial been the\ncentre of the fabric and the worship of the eikon and the idol. The\nimpulse may have come from the East or from Egypt to the Hellene; he\nin his turn imparted it to the Indian Aryans, as we now know, and in\ngreat measure at least to the Roman, just as the Assyrian-Babylonian\ntemple-worship imparted it to the Persian. Nowhere, we may well\nbelieve, has the influence of idolatry been so strong upon the\nreligious temperament as it was upon that of the Hellenes; for to it\nthey owed works of the type that may be called the human-divine, which\nsurpass any other art-achievement of man.\n\nI can here only indicate briefly its main effects. It {13} intensified\nthe perception of the real personal god as a material fact. It\nincreased polytheism by multiplying the separate figures of worship,\noften, perhaps, without intention. It assisted the imagination to\ndiscard what was uncouth and terrifying in the Hellenic religion, and\nwas at once the effect and the cause of the attachment of the Hellenic\nmind towards mild and gracious types of godhead. The aniconic emblem\nand uncouth fetich-formed figures were here and there retained,\nbecause of vague ideas about luck or for superstitious fetichistic\nreasons; but the beautiful idol was cherished because it could arouse\nthe enthusiastic affection of a sensitive people, and could bring them\nto the very presence of a friendly divine person. The saying that the\nOlympian deities died of their own loveliness means a wrong\ninterpretation of the facts and the people. But for a beautiful\nidolatry, Hellenic polytheism would have passed away some centuries\nbefore it did, the deities fading into alien types or becoming fused\none with the other. Nor was its force and influence exhausted by the\nintroduction of Christianity, for it shaped the destinies of the Greek\nChurch, and threw down a victorious challenge to the iconoclastic\nEmperors.\n\nIf now we were to look across the Mediterranean, and could survey the\nreligious monuments of Persia, Assyria and Babylonia, Phoenicia, and\nthe Hittite people, we should find a general acceptance of the\nanthropomorphic idea. The high personal deities are represented mainly\nin human form, but the art is not able to interpret the polytheistic\nbeliefs with skilfully differentiated types. In Chaldaic and Assyrian\nart one type of countenance is used for various divinities, and this\nsuch as might inspire awe rather than affection. And the\nanthropomorphism is unstable. Often animal traits {14} appear in parts\nof the divine figure. Nergal has a lion\u2019s head; even the warrior\nMarduk is invoked in the mystic incantations as \u201cBlack Bull of the\nDeep, Lion of the dark house.\u201d[14.1] In fact, over a large part of\nanterior Asia, anthropomorphism and theriomorphism exist side by side\nin religious concept and religious art. We may say the same of Egypt,\nbut here theriomorphism is the dominating factor.\n\nAs regards the explanation of this phenomenon, many questions are\ninvolved which are outside my present province. I would only express\nmy growing conviction that these two distinct modes of representing\nthe divine personage to the worshipper are not necessarily prior and\nposterior, the one to the other, in the evolution of religion. They\ncan easily, and frequently do, coexist. The vaguely conceived deity\nshifts his shape, and the same people may imagine him mainly as a\nglorified man of human volition and action, and yet think of him as\ntemporarily incarnate in an animal, and embody his type for purposes\nof worship or religious art in animal forms.\n\nI would further indicate here what I cannot prove in detail--that\ntheriomorphism lends itself to mysticism, while the anthropomorphic\nidolatry of Greece was strongly in opposition to it. The mystic\ntheosophy that pervaded later paganism, and from which early\nChristianity could not escape, originated, as Reitzenstein has well\nshown, mainly in Egypt, and it arose partly, I think, in connection\nwith the hieratic and allegorical interpretation of the theriomorphic\nidol. There was nothing mystic about the Zeus of Pheidias, so far as\nthe form of the god was concerned. The forms were {15} entirely\nadequate to the expression of the physical, moral, and spiritual\nnature of the god. The god was just that, and there was nothing\nbehind, and, as the ancient enthusiast avers, \u201chaving once seen him\nthus, you could not imagine him otherwise.\u201d But when a divinity to\nwhom high religious conceptions have already come to attach is\npresented, as it might be in Egyptian religious art, with the head of\na jackal or an ape, the feeling is certain to arise sooner or later in\nthe mind of the worshipper that the sense-form is inadequate to the\nidea. Then his troubled questioning will receive a mystic answer, and\nthe animal type of godhead will be given an esoteric interpretation.\n\nPlutarch, in the _De Iside et Osiride_,[15.1] is one of our\nwitnesses. He finds a profounder significance for theosophy in the\nbeetle, the asp, and the weasel than in the most beautiful\nanthropomorphic work of bronze or marble. He here turns his back on\nhis ancestors, and goes over to the sect of the Egyptian mystic.\n\nBut the most curious testimony to my thesis is borne by an inscription\non an Egyptian lamp--an invocation of the God Thoth: \u201cO Father of\nLight, O Word (\u03bb\u03cc\u03b3\u03bf\u03c2) that orderest day and night, come show thyself\nto me. O God of Gods, in thy ape-form enter.\u201d[15.2] Here the\nassociation of so mystic a concept as the \u201cLogos,\u201d the divine Reason,\nan emanation of God with the form of an ape, is striking enough, and\nsuggests to us many reflections on the contrast between the Egyptian\ntheriomorphism and the human idolatry of the Greek. The Hermes of\nPraxiteles was too stubborn a fact before the people\u2019s eyes to fade or\nto soar into {16} the high vagueness of the \u201cLogos,\u201d too stable in his\nbeautiful humanity to sink into the ape.\n\nBut before leaving this subject I would point out a phenomenon in the\nHellenic world that shows the working of the same principle. The\nOrphic god Dionysos-Sabazios-Zagreus was \u03c0\u03bf\u03bb\u03cd\u03bc\u03bf\u03c1\u03c6\u03bf\u03c2, a shape-shifter,\nconceived now as bull, now as serpent, now as man, and the Orphic\nsects were penetrated with a mystic theosophy; and, again, they were a\nforeign element embedded in Greek society and religion.\n\nWhile we were dealing with the subject of anthropomorphism, we should\nconsider also the question of sex, for a religion that gives\npredominance to the god is certain to differ in some essential\nrespects from one in which a goddess is supreme. Now, although the\nconception of an All-Father was a recognised belief in every Greek\ncommunity, and theoretically Zeus was admitted to be the highest god,\nyet we may believe Athena counted more than he for the Athenians, and\nHera more for the Argives. And we have evidence of the passionate\ndevotion of many urban and village communities to the mother Demeter\nand her daughter Kore, to whom the greatest mysteries of Greece, full\nof the promise of posthumous salvation, were consecrated. Also, in the\nadjacent lands of earlier culture we mark the same phenomenon. In\nEgyptian religion we have the commanding figure of Isis, who, though\nby no means supreme in the earlier period, seems to dominate the\nlatter age of this polytheism. In the Assyrian-Babylonian Pantheon,\nthough the male deity is at the head, Ishtar appears as his compeer,\nor as inferior only to Asshur. Coming westward towards Asia Minor, we\nseem to see the goddess overshadowing the god. On the great Hittite\nmonument at Boghaz-Keui, {17} in Cappadocia, skilfully interpreted by\nDr. Frazer, we observe a great goddess with her son coequal with the\nFather-God. In the lands adjacent to the coast a Mother-Goddess,\nsometimes also imagined as virgin, Kybele of Phrygia, Ma of\nCappadocia, Hipta of Lydia, Astarte of Askalon, Artemis of Ephesos who\nwas probably a blend of Hellenic and Oriental cult-ideas, appears to\nhave been dominant from an immemorial antiquity; and Sir Arthur Evans\nhas discovered the same mysterious feminine power pre-eminent in the\nMinoan religion. We may even affirm that she has ruled a great part of\nthe Mediterranean down to the present day.\n\nThe various questions suggested by this predominance of\ngoddess-worship are fascinating and subtle. The sociological one--how\nfar it is to be connected with a system of counting descent through\nthe female, with a matrilinear society--I have partly discussed\nelsewhere.[17.1] I may later be able to enter on the question that is\nof more interest for the psychology of religion--the effect of such\nworships on the religious sentiment. Here I can merely point to the\nphenomenon as a natural and logical product of the principle of\nanthropomorphism, but would call attention to the fact that in the\nEast it sometimes developed into a form that, from the anthropomorphic\npoint of view, must be called morbid and subversive of this principle;\nfor the rivalry of divine sex was here and there solved by the fusion\nof the two natures in the divinity, and we find a bisexual type--a\nmale Astarte, a bearded Ishtar.[17.2] The healthy-minded\nanthropomorphism of the Hellene rejects this Oriental extravagance.\n\n{18}\n\nIf we now could consider in detail the various moral conceptions\nattached to the high State divinities of Greece and the East, we\nshould be struck with a general similarity in the point of view of the\nvarious culture-stocks. The higher deities, on the whole, are ethical\nbeings who favour the righteous and punish transgressors; and the\nworship of Greece falls here into line with the Hebraic conceptions of\na god of righteousness. But in one important particular Hellenic\nthought markedly differs from Oriental, especially the Persian. In the\npeople\u2019s religion throughout Hellas the deities are, on the whole,\nworshipped as beneficent, as doing good to their worshippers, so long\nas these do not offend or sin against them. The apparent exceptions\nare no real exceptions. Ares may have been regarded as an evil god by\nthe poet or the philosopher, but we cannot discover that this was ever\nthe view of the people who cared to establish his cult. The Erinyes\nare vindictive; nevertheless, they are moral, and the struggle between\nthem and Apollo in the Aeschylean drama is only the contest between a\nmore barbaric and a more civilised morality. In the list of Greek\ndivine titles and appellatives, only one or two at most can be given a\nsignificance of evil.\n\nDoubtless, beneath the bright anthropomorphic religion lurked a fear\nof ghosts and evil spirits, and the later days of Hellenic paganism\nwere somewhat clouded with demonology. But the average Greek protected\nhimself sufficiently by purification and easy conventional magic. He\ndid not brood on the principle of evil or personify it as a great\ncosmic power, and therefore he would not naturally evolve a system of\nreligious dualism, though the germs from which this might grow may be\nfound in Orphic tradition and doctrine. Contrast this with the\nevidence from Egypt, Assyria, and {19} Persia. The Egyptian and\nAssyrian records bear strong impress of the prominence and power of\nthe belief in evil spirits. The high gods of Assyria were continually\nbeing invoked and implored by the worshipper to save him from the\ndemons, and one of these, Ira, a demon of pestilence, seems to have\nreceived actual worship; and much of Egyptian private ritual was\nprotective magic against them.\n\nBut nowhere did the power of evil assume such grand proportions as in\nthe old Mazdean creed of Persia, and the dualism between the good and\nevil principle became here the foundation of a great religion that\nspread its influence wide through the West. The religion had its\nprophet, Zarathustra, in whose historic reality we ought not to doubt.\nIn his system the faithful Mazdean is called upon to play his part in\nthe struggle between Ahura-Mazda and Angra-Mainyu, and this struggle\ncontinues through the ages till in the final cataclysm the Daevas, or\nevil demons, will be overthrown. We note here that this faith includes\nthe idea of a final Judgment, so familiar to Judaic and Christian\nthought, but scarcely to be found in the native Hellenic religion.\nFurther, it should be observed that the Mazdean dualism between good\nand evil has nothing in common with the Platonic antithesis between\nmind and sense, or St. Paul\u2019s between spirit and flesh, or with the\nhatred of the body that is expressed in Buddhism. The good Mazdean\nmight regard his body as good and pure, and therefore he escaped, as\nby a different way did the Greek, from the tyranny of a morbid\nasceticism. Only he developed the doctrine of purity into a code more\nburdensome than can be found, I think, elsewhere. The ideas of\nritual-purity on which he framed this code are found broadcast through\nthe East and in Egypt, and appear {20} in the Hellenic religion also.\nThe Greek, however, did not allow himself to be oppressed by his own\ncathartic system, but turned it to excellent service in the domain of\nlaw, as I have tried to show elsewhere.[20.1]\n\nGenerally, as regards the association of religion and morality, we\nfind this to be always intimate in the more developed races, but our\nstatistics are insufficient for us to determine with certainty the\ncomparative strength of the religious sanction of morals in the\nancient societies of the Mediterranean. The ethical-religious force of\nthe Zarathustrian faith seems to approach that of the Hebraic. We\nshould judge it to be stronger, at least, than any that was exercised\nin Hellas, for Hellas, outside the Orphic sects, had neither sacred\nbooks of universal recognition nor a prophet. Yet all Hellenic\nmorality was protected by religion, and the Delphic oracle, which\noccasionally was able to play the part of the father-confessor,\nencouraged a high standard of conduct--as high as the average found\nelsewhere in the ancient world. We may note, however, one lacuna in\nthe Hellenic code: neither Greek ethics, on the whole, nor Greek\nreligion, emphasised or exalted or deified the virtue of truth; but we\nhear of a goddess of Truth in Egypt, and it becomes a cardinal tenet\nand a divine force in the Zarathustrian ideal.\n\nAgain, in all ancient societies religion is closely interwoven with\npolitical, legal, and social institutions, and its influence on these\nconcerns the history of the evolution of society and law. It is only\nin modern society, or in a few most ideal creeds at periods of great\nexaltation, that a severance is made between C\u00e6sar and God. Save\nBuddhism, the religions of the ancient societies of the East and of\nEgypt were all in a sense political. Darius {21} regards himself as\nspecially protected by Ahura-Mazda, and we are told by\nHerodotus[21.1] that in the private Persian\u2019s prayers no separate\npersonal benefits were besought, but only the welfare of the King and\nthe Persian community. The gods of Assyria inspire counsel and order\nthe campaign; Shamash, the sun-god, is \u201cJust Ruler\u201d and the \u201cLord of\nLaw\u201d; and Ninib is styled the god \u201cwho lays for ever the\nfoundation-stone of the State,\u201d and who, like Zeus \u1f45\u03c1\u03b9\u03bf\u03c2, and the\nLatin Terminus, \u201cprotects the boundaries of the cornfield.\u201d The Syrian\ngoddess of Bambyke, Kybele of Phrygia, Astarte of Askalon, all wear\nthe mural crown, the badge of the city goddess. But I doubt if our\nmaterials are as yet rich enough to inform us in what precise way\nreligion played a constructive part in the oldest\ncivilisations,--namely, those of Assyria and Egypt. We may observe\nthat the code of Hammurabi, our oldest legal document, is curiously\nsecular and in many respects modern.\n\nThe question can be most fruitfully pursued in the study of the Greek\nsocieties; for no other religion of which we have any record was so\npolitical as the Hellenic, not even, as I should judge, the Roman, to\nwhich it bears the closest resemblance in this respect. The very\norigin of the \u03c0\u03cc\u03bb\u03b9\u03c2, the city-state, was often religious; for the name\nor title of the deity often gave a name to the city, and the temple\nwas in this case probably the centre of the earliest residence. In the\norganised and complex Greek societies, every institution of the\nState--the assembly, the council, the law-courts, the agrarian\neconomy, all the regulations of the family and clan--were consecrated\nand safeguarded by the supervision of some deity. Often he or she was\nworshipped as in a literal sense the {22} State ancestor, and in one\nof the temples might be found burning the perpetual fire which\nsymbolised the permanence of the city\u2019s life. And in Greece we find a\nunique phenomenon, which, though small, is of great significance--the\ndeity might here and there be made to take the office and title of a\ncivic magistrate. For instance, Apollo was \u03c3\u03c4\u03b5\u03c6\u03b1\u03bd\u03b7\u03c6\u03cc\u03c1\u03bf\u03c2 in Asia Minor\ncities, and in the later days of Sparta, as the recent excavations\nhave shown, the ghost of Lykourgos was elected as the chief inspector\nof the education of the young.\n\nTo the superficial observer, then, the Greek civic society might\nappear a theocracy. But such a view would imply ignorance of the\naverage character of the ancient Greek world. There can be no\ntheocracy where there is no theocrat. In Asia Minor the priest might\nbe a great political power, but in Greece this was never so. Here the\npolitical, secular, utilitarian interest dominates the religion. The\nhigh divinities become politicians, and immersed in secular affairs,\nand even take sides in the party strife, as some of the religious\ntitles attest. Thus Greek religion escaped morbidity and insanity,\nbecoming genial and human, and compensating by its adaptability to the\ncommon needs of social life for what it lacked of mystery and\naloofness. Therefore, also, in Greek invocations and hymns we do not\noften hear the echo of that sublimity that resounds in the Iranian,\nAssyrian, and still more in the Hebrew liturgies.\n\nAnother interesting point of comparison is the relation of religion to\nthe arts and sciences. Their association may be said to have been more\nintimate in Hellenism than it has been found to be in any other creed.\nWe can estimate what music and the drama owed to Apollo and Dionysos,\nand how the life of the {23} philosopher, artist, and poet was\nconsidered consecrated to certain divinities. We hear of the Delphic\noracle encouraging philosophic pursuits. The name \u201cMuseum\u201d is a\nlandmark in the religious history of education, and we know that the\ntemple of Asklepios in Kos was the cradle of the school of modern\nmedicine. The records of the other religions of this area show\nglimpses of the same association, and more extended research may throw\nfurther light on it. The Babylonian gods Nebo and Ea were divinities\nof wisdom and the arts, and to the former, who was the inventor of\nwriting, the library of Ashurbanapal was consecrated. Chaldean\nastronomy was evolved from their astrology, which was itself a\nreligious system. But demonology was stronger in Assyria, Persia, and\nEgypt than in Hellas, and demonology is the foe of science. In the\nZend-Avesta the priestly medicine-man, who heals by spell and\nexorcism, is ranked higher than the scientific practitioner. A chapter\nmight be written on the negative advantages of Greek religion, and\nnone was of greater moment than this--that it had no sacred books or\nauthoritative religious cosmogony to oppose to the dawn and the\ndevelopment of scientific inquiry. Asklepios had been a practitioner\nin the method of thaumaturgic cures, but he accepted Hippokrates\ngenially when the time came.\n\nAs regards the relation between Greek philosophy and Greek religion,\nsomething may remain to be discovered by any scholar who is equally\nfamiliar with both. It would be absurd to attempt to summarise the\nfacts in a few phrases here. I wish merely to indicate the absence in\npure Hellenic speculation of any elaborated system of theosophy, such\nas the late Egyptian \u201cgnosis,\u201d till we come to Neo-Platonism, when the\nGreek intellect is no longer pure. We discover {24} also a vacuum in\nthe religious mind and nomenclature of the earlier Greek: he had\nneither the concept nor any name to express the concept of what we\ncall \u201cfaith,\u201d the intellectual acceptance and confessional affirmation\nof certain dogmas concerning the divinity; and in this respect he\ndiffered essentially not only from the Christian, but also from the\nIranian and Buddhistic votary.\n\nA great part of the study of ancient religion is a study of ritual,\nand it is interesting to survey the Mediterranean area, so as to\ndiscern similarities or divergencies in the forms of religious\nservice. Everywhere we observe the blood-sacrifice of animals, and\nvery frequently the harmless offering of fruits and cereals, and now\none, now the other, in Greece as elsewhere, was regarded as the more\npious. The former is of the higher interest, for certain ideas which\nhave been constructive of higher religions--our own, for example--have\ngrown out of it. At first sight the animal oblation seems everywhere\nmuch the same in character and significance. The sacrificial ritual of\nLeviticus does not differ in any essential trait from that which\ncommended itself to the Greeks and the other peoples of these lands.\nCertain animals are everywhere offered, at times as a free and\ncheerful gift, at other times as an atonement to expiate sin and to\ndeprecate wrath. Certain other animals are tabooed, for reasons that\nmay repay searching out.\n\nIn most regions we have evidence of the practice of human sacrifice,\neither as an established system or as an occasional expedient. The\nmotives that prompted it present an important and intricate question\nto the modern inquirer. The two nations that grew to abhor it and to\nprotest against it were the Hebrew and the Greek, though the latter\ndid not wholly escape the taint {25} of it; for he had inherited the\npractice from his ancestral past, and he found it indigenous in the\nlands he conquered. Repellent as the rite may be, it much concerns the\nstudy of the religions of the cultured races.\n\nNow, an interesting theory concerning sacrifice was expounded and\nbrought into prominent discussion by Professor Robertson Smith in his\n_Religion of the Semites_, and in an earlier article in the\n_Encyclop\u00e6dia Britannica_--namely, that a certain type of ancient\nsacrifice was a mystic sacramental communion, the worshipper partaking\nof some sacred food or drink in which the spirit of the deity was\ntemporarily lodged. This mystic act, of which there is no clear trace\nin the Old Testament, is reported from Egypt,[25.1] and it appears to\nhave been part of the Attis ritual of Phrygia. We find doubtful traces\nof it in the Eleusinian and Samothracian mysteries; also a glimpse of\nit here and there in the public religion of Hellas. But it is best\nattested as a potent force in the Dionysiac worship, especially in a\ncertain savage ritual that we may call Thracian, but also in the\nrefined and Hellenised service as well.\n\nI cannot dwell here on the various aspects of this problem. The\nHellenic statistics and their significance I have partly collected and\nestimated in a paper published some years ago.[25.2] The application\nof the sacramental idea to the explanation of the Eleusinian\nmysteries, ingeniously attempted by Dr. Jevons, I have discussed in\nthe third volume of my _Cults of the Greek States_; and the Dionysiac\ncommunion-service is considered at length in the fifth.\n\nThe attractiveness of the mystic appeal of the {26} Sacrament appears\nto have increased in the later days of paganism, especially in its\nperiod of struggle with Christianity. That strangest rite of the\nexpiring polytheism, the \u03c4\u03b1\u03c5\u03c1\u03bf\u03b2\u03cc\u03bb\u03b9\u03bf\u03bd, or the baptism in bull\u2019s blood,\nin the worship of Kybele, has been successfully traced back by M.\nCumont to the worship of the Babylonian Anaitis. The sacramental\nconcept was the stronghold of Mithraism, but can hardly be regarded as\npart of its heritage from Persia, for it does not seem to have been\nfamiliar to the Iranian religion nor to the Vedic Indian. In fact, the\nreligious history of no other Aryan race discloses it with clearness,\nsave that of the Thraco-Phrygian and Hellenic. Was it, then, a special\nproduct of ancient \u201cMediterranean\u201d religious thought? It would be\nimportant to know, and Crete may one day be able to tell us, whether\nKing Minos took the sacrament. Meantime, I would urge upon those who\nare studying this phenomenon in the various religions the necessity of\nprecise definition, so as to distinguish the different grades of the\nsacramental concept, for loose statements are somewhat rife about it.\n\nApart from the ritual of the altar, there is another mode of attaining\nmystic union with the divinity--namely, by means of a sacred marriage\nor simulated corporeal union. This is suggested by the initiation\nformul\u00e6 of the mysteries of Attis-Kybele. The cult of Kybele was\nconnected with that of the Minoan goddess, and the strange legend of\nPasiphae and the bull-god lends itself naturally to this\ninterpretation. The Hellenic religion also presents us with a few\nexamples of the holy marriage of the human bride with the god, the\nmost notable being the annual ceremony of the union of the \u201cQueen,\u201d\nthe wife of the King Archon, at Athens, with Dionysos. And in the\nmysteries of {27} later paganism, as well as in certain forms and\nsymbolism of early Christianity, Professor Dieterich has traced the\nsurviving influence of this rite.\n\nAmong all the phenomena of ritual, none are more interesting or in\ntheir effects more momentous than the rites that are associated with\nthe dogma of the death of the divinity. That the high gods are\nnaturally mortal and liable to death is an idea that is certainly\nrare, though it may be found in Egyptian and old Teutonic mythology;\nbut the dogma of the annual or periodic death and resurrection of the\ndivinity has been, and is, enacted in much peasant ritual, and worked\nfor the purposes of agrarian magic in Europe and elsewhere. More\nrarely we find the belief attached to the mystic forms and faith of\nsome advanced religion, and it is specially in the Mediterranean area\nwhere it appears in a high stage of development. It is a salient\nfeature of the Egyptian worship of Isis; of the Sumerian-Babylonian\nritual, in which the dead Thammuz was bewailed, and which penetrated\nSyria and other parts of Asia Minor; of the worship of Attis and\nAdonis in Phrygia and the Lebanon; and of certain shrines of the\nOriental Aphrodite. It is associated often with orgiastic sorrow and\necstatic joy, and with the belief in human immortality of which the\nresurrection of the deity is the symbol and the efficacious means.\nThis idea and this ritual appears to have been alien to the native\nHellenic religion. The Hellenic gods and goddesses do not die and rise\nagain.\n\nOnly in one Aryan nation of antiquity, so far as I am aware, was the\nidea clear and operative--the Thraco-Phrygian, in the religion of\nDionysos-Sabazios. This alien cult, when transplanted into Greece,\nretained still some savagery in the rite that enacted the death of the\n{28} god; but in the Orphic sects the ritual idea was developed into a\ndoctrine of posthumous salvation, from which the later pre-Christian\nworld drew spiritual comfort and some fertile moral conceptions. This\nThracian-Dionysiac influence in Hellas, though chastened and sobered\nby the sanity of the national temperament, initiated the Hellene into\na certain spiritual mood that was not naturally evoked by the native\nreligion; for it brought into his polytheism a higher measure of\nenthusiasm, a more ecstatic spirit of self-abandonment, than it\npossessed by its own traditional bent. Many civilised religions appear\nto have passed beyond the phase of orgiastic fervour. It emerges in\nthe old Egyptian ritual, and most powerfully in the religion of\nPhrygia and of certain districts of Syria; but it seems to have been\nalien to the higher Semitic and the Iranian religions, as it was to\nthe native Hellenic.\n\nI have only been able here, without argument or detailed exposition,\nto present a short summary of the more striking phenomena in the\nreligious systems of our spiritual ancestors. Many of the problems I\nhave stated still invite further research, which may considerably\nmodify our theories. I claim that the subject possesses a masterful\ninterest both in its own right and for the light it sheds on ancient\nphilosophy, ancient art, and ancient institutions. And it ought in the\nfuture to attract more and more the devotion of some of our\npost-graduate students. Much remains to be done even for the Hellenic\nand Roman religions, still more for those of Egypt and Assyria. Here,\nin our University of Oxford, under whose auspices the Sacred Books of\nthe East were translated, and where the equipment for the study is at\nleast equal to that of any other centre of learning, this appeal ought\nnot to be made in vain.\n\n\n\n\n CHAPTER II.\n Statement of the Problem and the Evidence.\n\n{29}\n\nThe subject I have chosen for this course may appear over-ambitious;\nand the attempt to pass critical judgment upon the facts that arise in\nthis wide comparative survey may be thought premature. For not only is\nthe area vast, but large tracts of it are still unexplored, while\ncertain regions have yielded materials that are ample and promising,\nbut of which the true interpretation has not yet been found. We have,\nfor instance, abundant evidence flowing in with ever-increasing volume\nof the Sumerian-Babylonian religion, but only a portion of the\ncuneiform texts has as yet been authoritatively translated and made\navailable for the service of Comparative Religion. The Hittite\nmonuments are witnesses of primary value concerning Hittite religion:\nbut the Hittite script may reveal much more that is vital to our view\nof it, and without the help of that script we are not sure of the\nexact interpretation of those religious monuments; but though we have\nrecently heard certain encouraging expressions of hope, the\nmaster-word has not yet been found that can open the door to this\nburied treasure of knowledge. And again, the attempt to gauge\naccurately the relation and the indebtedness of Greek religion to that\nof the near East cannot be wholly successful, until we know more of\nthe Minoan-Mycenaean religion; {30} and our hope hangs here partly on\nthe discovery of more monuments, but mainly, I am convinced, on the\ndecipherment of the mysterious Minoan writing, to which great\nachievement Sir Arthur Evans\u2019 recent work on the _Scripta Minoa_ is a\nvaluable contribution. Therefore the time is certainly not yet ripe\nfor a final and authoritative pronouncement on the great questions\nthat I am venturing upon in this course.\n\nBut even the early premature attempts to solve a problem may\ncontribute something to the ultimate satisfying solution. And often in\nthe middle of our investigations, when new evidence continues to pour\nin, there comes a moment when it is desirable to look around and take\nstock, so to speak, to consider whether we can draw some general\nconclusions with safety, or in what direction the facts appear at this\nstage to be pointing. In regard to the religions of anterior Asia and\nSouth-Eastern Europe, and the question of their relationships, this is\nnow, I feel, a seasonable thing to do--all the more because the\nAsiatic region has been mainly explored by specialists, who have\nworked, as was profitable and right, each in his special province,\nwithout having the time or perhaps the training to achieve a\ncomparative survey of the whole. We know also by long experience the\npeculiar dangers to which specialists are prone; in their enthusiastic\ndevotion to their own domain, they are apt to believe that it supplies\nthem with the master-key whereby to unlock many other secret places of\nhuman history. This hope, soon to prove an illusion, was regnant when\nthe interpretation of the Sacred Vedic Books was first accomplished.\nAnd now certain scholars, who are distinguished specialists in\nAssyriology, are putting forward a similar claim for Babylon, and are\nchampioning the view that the {31} Sumerian-Assyrian religion and\nculture played a dominating part in the evolution of the Mediterranean\ncivilisation, and that therefore much of the religious beliefs and\npractices of the early Greeks and other European stocks must be traced\nback to Mesopotamia as their fountain-head.[31.1] This will be\nencouraging to that distinguished writer on Greek religion, Dr. O.\nGruppe, who almost a generation ago proclaimed in his _Griechische\nMythologie_ the dogma of the emanation of all religion from a single\ncentre, and the dependence of Greece upon the near East.\n\nNow there ought to be no prejudice _a priori_ against such a theory,\nwhich stands on a different footing from what I may call the Vedic\nfallacy: and it is childish to allow to the Aryan, or any other racial\nbias, any malignant influence in these difficult discussions. Those\nwho have worked for years upon the marvellously rich records of\nMesopotamian culture, whether at first hand or, like myself, at second\nhand, cannot fail to receive the deepest impression of its imperial\ngrandeur and its forceful vitality, and of its intensity of thought\nand purpose in the sphere of religion. Naturally, they may feel, such\nspiritual power must have radiated influence far and wide over the\nadjacent lands; and no one could maintain that South-Eastern Europe\nwas too remote to have been touched, perhaps penetrated, by it. For we\nknow that, under certain conditions, the race-barrier falls down\nbefore the march of a conquering and dominating religion. And now, in\nthe new light of a wider historical survey, instead of saying, as once\nwas said, \u201cWhat is more its own than a people\u2019s gods?\u201d we {32} may\nrather ask, \u201cWhat is less its own than a people\u2019s gods?\u201d always,\nhowever, remembering that race-tradition, inherited instinctive\nfeeling and thought, is very strong in these matters, and that a\npeople will, often unconsciously, cling to its ancestral modes of\nreligious consciousness and expression, while it will freely borrow\nalien forms, names, and ritual.\n\nThe inquiry indicated by the title of these lectures is naturally\ntwofold; it may be applied either to the earlier or the later periods\nof the Hellenic and Hellenic-Roman history. The question concerning\nthe later period, though much critical research is needed for its\nclear solution, is far simpler and more hopeful: for the evidence is\nimmeasurably fuller and more precise, and historical dates and\nlandmarks are there to help. The history of the invasion of the West\nby Mithraism has been masterfully stated by Cumont; the general\ninfluence of the Anatolian religions upon Graeco-Roman society is\npresented and estimated by the same writer in his _Religious\nOrientales_; by Toutain, in his _Les Cultes Paiens dans l\u2019Empire\nRomain_; by our own scholar, Samuel Dill, in _Roman Society in the\nlast Century of the Western Empire_; and more summarily by Salomon\nReinach in his _Orpheus_. Therefore I am not going to pursue the\ninquiry at this end, although I may have to notice and use some of the\nlater evidence. I am going to raise the question concerning the very\norigins of the Hellenic religious system, so as to test the recently\nproclaimed dogma of certain Assyriologists, and to determine, if\npossible, whether the Orient played any formative part in the organic\ndevelopment of Greek religion. For this is just the question which, I\nventure to maintain, has never yet been critically explored. From what\nI have said at the beginning, it is obvious that I cannot {33} promise\nfinal and proved results. It will be gain enough if we can dimly\ndiscern something behind the veil that shrouds the origins of things,\ncan reach to something that has the air of a reasoned scientific\nhypothesis, and still more if we can indicate the paths along which\none day light may come.\n\nWe may then begin at once with stating more clearly what are the\nnecessary conditions for a successful solution of the problem. First,\nwe must accomplish a thorough exploration of the religions of the\nAnatolian and Mesopotamian lands; secondly, we must explore the\nMinoan-Mycenaean religion, and estimate the strength of its influence\non the later period; thirdly, we must be able to decide what beliefs\nand practices the Hellenes brought with them from the North; lastly,\nbefore we can hope for any precision in our results, we must be able\nto answer with some degree of accuracy a burning chronological\nquestion: What was the date of the arrival through the Balkans from\nthe North of those Aryan-speaking tribes that by mingling with the\nSoutherners formed the Hellenic people of history? For only then shall\nwe be able to test the whole question, by considering the position of\nthe Eastern powers at this momentous epoch. The third of these\ninquiries, concerning the aboriginal religious ideas of the earliest\nAryan Hellenes, is perhaps the most troublesome of all. I may venture\nupon it at a later occasion, but it is far too difficult and extensive\nto combine it with the others in a short treatise. Nor can I do more\nthan touch lightly on the Minoan-Mycenaean period; for I wish to\ndevote the greater part of these lectures to the comparative survey of\nGreece, Anatolia, and Mesopotamia, as this task has never yet been\ncritically performed. Something like an attempt was made by {34} Tiele\nin his _Histoire des anciennes Religions_, but when that book was\nwritten much of the most important evidence had not yet come in.\n\nBut before beginning the exploration of any large area, whether for\nthe purposes of Comparative Religion, archaeology, or anthropology, we\nmust possess or acquire certain data of ethnography and secular\nhistory. We must, for instance, face the chronological question that\nI mentioned just above, before we can estimate the formative\ninfluences at work in the earliest phases of Hellenic development.\nRecent archaeological evidence, which I cannot here discuss, renders\nus valuable aid at this critical point of our inquiry. We can no\nlonger relegate the earliest Hellenic invasion of Greece to a very\nremote period of Mediterranean history. The arguments from the Minoan\nculture, combined with the still more striking evidence, of which the\nvalue is not yet fully appreciated, obtained by the recent excavations\nof the British School on the soil of Thessaly,[34.1] point to the\nconviction that this, the epoch-making event of the world\u2019s secular\nand spiritual life, occurred not much earlier than 1500 B.C. On this\nhypothesis, our quest becomes less vague. We can consider what\ninfluences were likely to be radiating from the East upon the opposite\nshores of the Aegean during those few centuries, in which the Hellenic\ntribes were passing from barbarism to culture, and the religious\nbeliefs and ritual were developing into that comparatively advanced\nand complex form of polytheism which is presented about 1000 B.C. in\nthe Homeric poems. By this date we may assert that the Hellenic spirit\nhad evolved certain definite traits and had acquired a certain\nautonomous power. While continuing always to be quickly responsive to\n{35} alien influence, it would not henceforth admit the alien product\nwith the submissive and infantine docility of barbarians In fact, when\nwe compare the Homeric religion with that of the fifth century, we\nfeel that in this particular sphere of the social and spiritual life\nthe Hellene in many essentials had already come to his own in the\nHomeric period. Therefore, in trying to track the earliest streams of\ninfluences that moulded his religious consciousness, what was\noperative before the tenth century is of more primary importance than\nwhat was at work upon him afterwards.\n\nNow the most recent researches into Mesopotamian history establish\nwith certainty the conclusion that there was no direct political\ncontact possible between the powers in the valley of the Euphrates and\nthe western shores of the Aegean, in the second millennium B.C. It is\ntrue that the first Tiglath-Pileser, near the end of the twelfth\ncentury, extended the Assyrian arms to the shores of South-Eastern\nAsia, to Cilicia and Phoenicia[35.1]; but there does not seem to have\nbeen any permanent Assyrian or Babylonian settlement on this littoral.\nThe city of Sinope in the north, which, as the legend attests and the\nname that must be derived from the Assyrian god Sin indicates, was\noriginally an Assyrian colony, was probably of later foundation, and\ngeographically too remote to count for the present inquiry. In fact,\nbetween the nascent Hellas and the great world of Mesopotamia, there\nwere powerful and possibly independent strata of cultures interposing.\nWe have to reckon first with the great Hittite Kingdom, which included\nCappadocia and Northern Syria, and was in close touch with Phrygia and\nmany of the communities {36} of the shore-line of Asia Minor; and\nwhich at the period of the Tel-el-Amarna correspondence was in\ndiplomatic relations and on terms of equality with the Assyrian and\nEgyptian powers. And the tendency of modern students, such as\nMesserschmidt in his _Die Hettiter_, is to extend this ethnic name so\nas to include practically all the Anatolian peoples who were other\nthan the Aryan and Semitic stocks. As far as I can discern, at the\npresent stage of our knowledge this is unscientific; and it is at\npresent safer to regard the pre-Aryan inhabitants of the Troad,\nPhrygia, Lycia, Caria, and Lydia, possibly Cilicia, as varieties of an\nancient Mediterranean stock to which the people of the Minoan-Aegean\nculture themselves belonged. At any rate, for the purposes of our\nreligious comparison, they are to be counted as a third stratum,\nthrough which as through the Hittite the stream of influence from\nMesopotamia would be obliged to percolate before it could discharge\nitself upon the Hellenic world. And these interjacent peoples are\nraces of great mental gifts and force; they were not likely to\ntransmit the Mesopotamian influence pure and unmingled with currents\nof their own religious life.\n\nTherefore this great problem of old-world religion is no light one;\nand fallacies here can only be avoided by the most critical\nintelligence trained on the best method of comparative religious\nstudy. We must endeavour to seize and comprehend the most essential\nand characteristic features of the Babylonian-Assyrian cults and\ntheology; we must discover all that is at present possible, and trust\nto the future for discovering more, concerning the Hittite religion;\nand then we must glean all we can of the earliest forms of cult in\nvogue among the other peoples of the Asia-Minor coast, {37} and in the\nearly world of the Minoan-Mycenaean culture.\n\nAnd if the phenomena of this area present us with certain general\nresemblances to the Hellenic, we must not too hastily assume that the\nWest has borrowed from the East. For often in comparing the most\nremote regions of the world we are struck with strange similarities of\nmyth and cult; and, where the possibility of borrowing is ruled out,\nwe must have recourse to the theory of spontaneous generation working\nin obedience to similar psychical forces. The hypothesis of borrowing,\nwhich is always legitimate where the peoples with whom we are\nconcerned are adjacent, is only raised to proof either when the\nlinguistic evidence is clear, for instance when the divine names or\nthe names of cult-objects are the same in the various districts, or\nwhen the points of resemblance in ritual or religious concept are\nnumerous, striking, and fundamental, or peculiar to the communities of\na certain area. This is all the more necessary to insist on, because\nmany superficial points of resemblance will be found in all religions\nthat are at the same stage of development.\n\nNow, in beginning this wide comparative survey, one\u2019s first difficulty\nis to arrange the material in such a way as to enable one to present a\ncomparison that shall be definite and crucial. It would be useless to\nattempt a mere synoptical outline of the Babylonian-Sumerian religion;\nthose whom that might content will find one in Dr. Pinches\u2019 handbook,\n_The Religion of Babylonia and Assyria_, or Mr. King\u2019s _Babylonian\nReligion_, while those who desire a more thorough and detailed\npresentation of it will doubtless turn to the laborious and critical\nvolumes of Prof. Jastrow, _Die Religion Babyloniens u. Assyriens_. But\nfor me to {38} try to present this complex polytheism _en bloc_ would\nbe useless in view of my present object; for two elaborate religious\nsystems cannot effectively be compared _en bloc_. A more hopeful\nmethod for those who have to pass cursorily over a great area, is to\nselect certain salient and essential features separately, and to see\nhow, in regard to each one, the adjacent religious systems agree or\ndiffer. And the method I propose to pursue throughout this course is\nas follows: Ignoring the embryology of the subject, that is to say,\nall discussions about the genesis of religious forms and ideas that\nwould contribute nothing to our purpose, I will try to define the\nmorphology of the Mesopotamian and Anatolian religions; and will first\ncompare them with the Hellenic in respect of the element of\npersonality in the divine perception, the tendency to, or away from,\nanthropomorphism, the relation of the deities to the natural world, to\nthe State, and to morality, and I will consider what we can deduce\nfrom the study of the famous law-code of Hammurabi. A special question\nwill arise concerning the supremacy of the goddess, a phenomenon which\nmay be of some importance as a clue in our whole inquiry. The\ncomparison will then be applied to the religious psychology of the\ndifferent peoples; and here it will be useful to analyse and define\nthat element of the religious temper which we call fanaticism, and\nwhich sometimes affords one of the crucial distinctions between one\nreligion and another.\n\nWe may also obtain evidence from a comparison of the cosmogonic ideas\nprevalent over this area, so far as the records reveal any, as well as\nof the eschatological beliefs concerning man\u2019s future destiny and his\nposthumous existence. Finally, we must compare the various\ncult-objects and forms of ritual, the significance of the {39}\nsacrifice; the position and organisation of the priesthood; and here\nit will be convenient to consider the ritual of magic as well as of\nthe higher service and the part played by magic within the limits of\nthe higher religion. If under each of these heads we have been able to\ndiscover certain salient points of divergence or resemblance between\nthe Hellene and the Mesopotamian, we may be able to draw a general\ndeduction of some probability concerning the whole question. In any\ncase we may be encouraged by the assurance that the comparison of two\ncomplex and highly developed religions is fruitful and interesting in\nitself, whether it yields us definite historical conclusions or not.\n\n\n\n\n CHAPTER III.\n The Morphology of the Compared Religions.\n\n{40}\n\nAs I said in a previous lecture,[40.1] \u201cwe must regard the\nreligious structure to which the cults of Anatolia and Mesopotamia\nbelonged as morphologically the same as the Hellenic.\u201d The grounds of\nthis judgment may be now briefly shown. In his _Histoire des anciennes\nReligions_, Tiele classifies most of these together under the category\nof Nature-Religions, which he distinguishes from the ethical: he is\nthinking of the distinction between that religious view in which the\ndivinity is closely associated, or even identified, with some natural\nobject, and that in which the divinity is a moral being merely, stript\nof all attributes that are derived from the world of nature. Serious\nobjection may be taken to the terms in which this classification of\nreligions is expressed. The only religions which would fall under the\nethical class would be the Judaic, the Moslem, and the Christian: and\nyet the Hebrews in the most exalted period of their religion prayed to\ntheir god for rain and crops, and the Christian Churches do the same\nto this day. A deity whose interest is purely ethical has only existed\nin certain philosophic systems: he has never had an established cult.\nOn the other hand, a nature-religion, at the stage when personal\ndeities have been somewhat developed, which is not also {41} moral,\nhas yet to be discovered. Religion, in its origin possibly non-moral,\nmust, as society advances, acquire the closest relations with the\nsocial moral code. A Sun-god or Thunder-god--Shamash, for instance, of\nBabylon, Mithras of Persia, Sol Invictus of the later Roman\nEmpire--may become a great divinity of an ethical cult and yet retain\nhis association with the element. And it is fruitless to classify\nhigher religions at least on such a basis of distinction as \u201cmoral\u201d\nand \u201cnon-moral.\u201d[41.1]\n\nIt is more to the purpose of our present comparison to employ as one\nof our test-standards the degree of personality in the cult-objects of\nthe different races. Is the popular imagination still on the level of\nanimism which engenders mere vaguely conceived daimones, shadowy\nagents, working perhaps in amorphous groups, without fixed names or\nlocal habitations or special individuality? Or has it reached that\nstage of religious perception at which personal deities emerge,\nconcrete individualities clothed with special attributes, physical,\nmoral, spiritual? The most superficial study of the cuneiform texts\nand the religious monuments of the Sumerian-Babylonian society does\nnot leave us in doubt how we should answer these questions in behalf\nof the peoples in the Mesopotamian valley. When the Semitic tribes\nfirst pushed their way into these regions, swarming probably, as\nusual, from Arabia, at some remotely early date, they found there the\nnon-Semitic Sumerian people possessed of a highly complex religious\npantheon. Bringing with them their own Shamash the sun-god, Adad the\nstorm-god, and the {42} great goddess Ishtar, and perhaps other\ndivinities, they nevertheless took over the whole Sumerian pantheon,\nwith its elaborate liturgy of hymns and incantations; and for the\nrecord of this great and fascinating hieratic literature the Sumerian\nlanguage--with interlinear Babylonian-Assyrian paraphrase--was\npreserved down to the beginning of our era. This religious system of\ndateless antiquity suffered little change \u201cfrom the drums and\ntramplings\u201d of all the conquerors from the time of Sargon 1st and the\nkings before Hammurabi to the day of the Macedonian Seleukos. And in a\nsketch of this system as it prevailed in the second millennium B.C. it\nis quite useless for our purpose to try to distinguish between\nSumerian and Semitic elements. It is more valuable to formulate this\nobvious fact, that a widespread belief in personal concrete\ndivinities, upon which an advanced polytheism was based, was an\nimmemorial phenomenon in this region. Tiele\u2019s hypothesis[42.1] that\nthe earliest Sumerian system was not so much a polytheism as a\npolydaimonism, out of which certain definite gods gradually emerged\nsome time before the Semitic period, is merely _a priori_ theorising.\nThe earliest texts and monuments reveal as vigorous a faith in real\ndivine personalities as the latest: witness[42.2] that interesting\nrelief recently found on a slab in the caravan route near Zohab, on\nwhich the goddess In-Hinni is bringing captives to the King\nAnnubanini: the evidence of the text accompanying it points to a\nperiod earlier than that of King Hammurabi. We may compare with this\nthe impressive relief which shows {43} us the stately form of\nHammurabi receiving his code of laws from the sun-god Shamash seated\non his throne[43.1]; and of a later date, the alabaster relief from\nKhorsabad showing a sacrifice to Marduk, a speaking witness to the\nstern solemnity of the Babylonian worship and to the strength of the\nfaith in personal divinity.[43.2] That this faith was as real in the\npolytheistic Babylonian as in the monotheistic Israelite is evinced\nnot merely by the monuments, but still more clearly and impressively\nby the Sumerian hymns and liturgies.\n\nNevertheless the phenomena of animism coexist in all this region with\nthose of developed theism. By the side of these high personal deities\nwe find vague companies of divine powers such as the Igigi and the\nAnunnaki, who are conceived more or less as personal but without\nclearly imagined individuality, the former being perhaps definable as\nthe daimones of heaven, the latter as the daimones of earth.\nSimilarly, in the Hellenic system we note such nameless companies of\ndivine agencies as the \u1f18\u03c1\u03b9\u03bd\u03cd\u03b5\u03c2 and \u03a0\u03c1\u03b1\u03be\u03b9\u03b4\u03af\u03ba\u03b1\u03b9, conceived independently\nof the concrete figures of the polytheism. But, further, in the\nMesopotamian religion we must reckon seriously with lower products of\npolydaemonism than these, the demons of evil and disease who so\ndominated the imagination and much of the religious life of the\nprivate person that the chief object of the elaborate ritual was, as\nwe shall see, to combat these. Only, as the curtain gradually rolls\naway from the remote past of this earliest home of human culture, it\nis not given us to see the gradual emergence of the divine\npersonalities, or trace--as perhaps we may elsewhere--the {44} process\nfrom polydaimonism to theism. The gods, as far as we can discern, were\nalways there, and at least it is not in the second millennium B.C.\nthat me may hope to find the origins of theistic religion.\n\nAs regards the other Semitic stocks, the cumulative evidence of early\ninscriptions, literary records, and legends is sufficient proof that\nthe belief in high personal divinities was predominant in this\nmillennium. It is not necessary to labour here at the details of the\nproof; the other lines of inquiry that I am soon going to follow will\ngive sufficient illustration of this; and it is enough to allude to\nthe wide prevalence of the designation of the high god as Baal or Bel,\nwhich can be traced from Assyria through Syria, in the Aramaean\ncommunities, in Canaan and Phoenicia, and in the Phoenician colonies:\nthe Moabite Stone tells us of Chemosh; the earliest Carthaginian\ninscriptions of Baal-Hammon and Tanit; from our earliest witness for\nArabian religion, Herodotus,[44.1] we learn that the Arabs named\ntheir two chief divinities, Orotal and Alilat, a god and a goddess,\nwhom he identifies with Dionysos and Aphrodite Ourania.\n\nIt is still more important for us to know the stage reached by the\nHittite religion in this early period; for in the latter half of the\nsecond millennium the influence of the Hittite culture had more chance\nof touching the earliest Greek societies than had that of the remote\nMesopotamia or of the inaccessible Canaanites. In the last thirty\nyears the explorers of Asia Minor, notably Sir William Ramsay and Dr.\nHogarth, have done inestimable service to the comparative study of the\nMediterranean area by the discovery and interpretation of the\nmonuments of Hittite art: and the greatest of them all, the rock-cut\nreliefs of Boghaz-Keui in Cappadocia, {45} has given material to Dr.\nFrazer for constructing an elaborate theory of Hittite sacrifice in\nhis \u2018_Attis, Adonis, Osiris_.\u2019 But, before dealing with the Hittite\nmonuments, the student should note the literary evidence which is\noffered by the treaty inscribed on a silver tablet (_circ._ 1290 B.C.)\nfound in Egypt, which was ratified between Ramses II. and the Hittite\nKing Chattusar;[45.1] the witnesses to the treaty are the thousand\ngods and goddesses of the Hittite land and the thousand gods and\ngoddesses of Egypt. We are certainly here not dealing with mere vague\npluralities of spirits, such as may be found in an animistic system of\nShamanism; the thousand is only a vague numeral for the plurality of\ndivinities in the Hittite and Egyptian polytheism; the difference of\nsex would alone suffice to prove that the Hittite had developed the\ncult of personal deities, and the document expressly quotes the great\nheaven-god of the Hittites, called by the Egyptian name Sutekh, and\nregarded as compeer of the Egyptian Ra. Other personal Hittite deities\nare alluded to in the document, and among them appears to be mentioned\na certain \u201cAntheret of the land of Kheta.\u201d[45.2] Possibly a witness\nof still earlier date speaks in the Tel-Amarna letters, the earliest\ndiplomatic correspondence in the world; one of these, written in\ncuneiform to Amenhotep III., in the fifteenth century B.C., is from\nTushratta, the King of the Mitani people.[45.3] Tushratta sends his\ndaughter in marriage to Pharaoh, and prays that \u201cShamash and Ishtar\nmay go before her,\u201d and that Amon may \u201cmake her correspond to my\nbrother\u2019s wish.\u201d He even dispatches a statue of Ishtar of Nineveh,\nthat \u201cshe may {46} exercise her beneficent power in the land of\nEgypt\u201d; for she had revealed her desire by an oracle--\u201cto Egypt to the\nland that I love will I go.\u201d\n\nThe Mitani chieftains bear names that show a convincingly Aryan\nformation, and we know from the momentous inscriptions found in 1907\nat Boghaz-Keui recording treaties between the king of the Hittites and\nthe king of the Mitani (B.C. 1400), that the dynasts of the latter\npeople had Aryan gods in their pantheon.[46.1] But the Mitani\nthemselves were not Aryans, and are assumed by Winckler and\nMesserschmidt to be Hittites.[46.2] If this were proved, the theory\nwhich it is the general aim of these lectures to consider, that the\nBabylonian religious system may have reached the Mediterranean in the\nsecond millennium, would receive a certain _vraisemblance_ from the\nfact revealed by the letter of King Tushratta, namely, that the Mitani\nof this period had adopted some of the Mesopotamian personal\ndivinities, and might therefore have transmitted them to the coast of\nAsia Minor. Yet the Hittites had their own local divine names; from\nthe cuneiform inscriptions written in the Hittite language found at\nVan in Armenia, we gather the names of various Hittite gods, Teshup,\nfor instance, who appears on a column found at Babylon holding the\nlightning, and in his right hand a hammer, which, from the analogy of\nother religions, we may interpret as the fetich-emblem of the\nthunder.[46.3]\n\nIn fact, apart from the literary evidence, the Hittite {47} monuments\nwould be proof sufficient of the high development of personal religion\nin these regions. A relief with Hittite inscriptions, found near\nIbriz, the old Kybistra, near the Cilician gates north of Tauros,\nshows us a deity with corn and grapes, and a priest adoring;[47.1] he\nis evidently conceived, like Baal by the Semites of Canaan, as a local\ngod of the earth and of vegetation. But the most striking of all the\nHittite monuments, and one that is all-sufficient in itself for our\npresent purpose, is the great series of reliefs on the rock at\nBoghaz-Keui in Cappadocia, not far from the site of the ancient\nPteria.[47.2] Here is revealed a great and probably mystic pageant of\nan advanced polytheism with an elaborate ritual and a clear faith in\nhigh gods and goddesses: the whole procession seems to be passing\nalong the narrowing gorge towards a Holy of Holies, the inner\ncave-shrine of the Mystery.\n\nAs we draw nearer to the Mediterranean, the facts are too well known\nto need reiteration here. Everywhere we find proofs of a personal\ntheism reaching far back into prehistoric times: whether it be the\ncult of a high god such as the Cilician divinity, called Zeus or\nHerakles by the later Greeks, or the Lycian \u201cApollo,\u201d or a great\ngoddess such as Ma of Comana, Cybele of Phrygia and Lydia. And now to\nall this testimony we can add the recently discovered monuments of a\ndeveloped Minoan-Mycenaean religion with the elaborate ritual and\nworship of personal divinities, anthropomorphically imagined on the\nwhole.\n\nSuch was the religious world lying before the feet of the Aryan\nHellenes descending from the north; {48} and when their expansion\nacross the islands to the Asiatic shores began, they would find\neverywhere a religion more or less on the same plane of development.\nTherefore if, as some students appear to imagine, the aboriginal\nHellene had not developed personal gods before he arrived,[48.1] it\nwould be irrational to conclude that Babylon had taught him to worship\nsuch beings in place of the vague and flitting daimon. His immediate\nteachers would be the Minoan-Mycenaean peoples; and that their\ntheistic system was derived from Babylon is a theory lacking both\npositive evidence and _a priori_ probability, as I may afterwards\nindicate. But that the proto-Hellenic peoples were in that backward\ncondition of religious thought, is in the highest degree improbable.\nWe must suppose that early in the second millennium they were slowly\npushing their way down through the Balkans and through the country\nthat is afterwards Thrace. So far as the earliest myths and records of\nthis region throw some light on its prehistoric darkness, it appears\nto have been dominated by a great god. When the Thraco-Phrygian race,\nand possibly their kinsmen the Bithynoi, penetrated into the same\nregion, they brought with them a father-god, who accompanied members\nof these stocks into Asia Minor, and settled in Phrygia, Pontus, and\nBithynia by the side of an earlier goddess. Their cousins of the\nIndo-Iranian stock had certainly reached the stage of personal\npolytheism before 1400 B.C., as the epoch-making discovery of the\nHittite-Mitani inscriptions at Boghaz-Keui, referred to above,\nsufficiently indicates.[48.2] We cannot believe that the Hellenes of\nthe earliest {49} migration were inferior in culture to those\nThracians, Bithynians, or even Indo-Iranians; for various reasons we\nmust believe the reverse. And we now know from modern anthropology\nthat peoples at a very low grade of culture, far lower than that which\nthe Aryan stocks had reached at the time of the great migrations, have\nyet attained to the idea of personal and relatively high gods. In\nfact, that scepticism of certain philological theorists who, a few\nyears ago, were maintaining that the Aryans before their separation\nmay have had no real gods at all, is beginning to appear audacious and\nuncritical. At any rate, in regard to the Hellenes, the trend of the\nevidence is to my mind weighty and clear, making for the conviction\nthat the different stocks not only possessed the cult of personal\ngods, but had already the common worship of certain deities when first\nthey entered Greece. Otherwise, when we consider the mutual hostility\nof the various tribes and the geographical difficulties in the way of\nintercourse in early Greece, it would be difficult to explain the\nreligious facts of the Homeric poems. We might, indeed, if Homer was\nour only witness, suspect him of representing what was merely local\nAchaean religion as common to all Greece. But we can check him by many\nother witnesses, by ancient myths and cults of diverse localities.\nZeus was worshipped by some, at least, of the main tribes, when they\nwere in the neighbourhood of Olympus: he is no more Thessalian than he\nis Dryopian. One of the earliest Hellenic immigrants were perhaps the\nMinyai, and their aboriginal god was Poseidon. The ritual of Apollo\npreserves the clearest reminiscence of his entry from the north, and\nhe is the high god of one of the oldest Hellenic tribes, the Dryopes,\nand the wide diffusion of his cult suggests that aboriginally it was a\n{50} common inheritance of several stocks. The force of the evidence\nthat may be urged for this view is ignored by Wilamowitz in his\nbrilliant but fallacious theory of the Lycian origin of the god. We\nmust reject the hypothesis of a proto-Hellenic godless period; but, on\nthe other hand, the mere fact that the early Greek religion appears on\nthe same plane as the Mesopotamian, in respect of the worship of\npersonal beings, gives no support at all to the theory of Oriental\ninfluence. If it is to be accepted, it must be sustained by more\nspecial evidence.\n\n\n\n\n CHAPTER IV.\n Anthropomorphism and Theriomorphism in Asia\n Minor and the Mediterranean.\n\n{51}\n\nA comparison made according to the test we have just applied is not\nso important as that which arises in the second stage of the inquiry.\nAssuming that the peoples on the east and west of the Aegean were\nalready on the same religious plane when the first glimmer of what may\nbe called history begins, can we discern certain striking resemblances\nor differences in their conception and imagination of divinity,\nsufficient to prove or disprove the theory of borrowing or of a\nmovement across large areas of certain waves of religious influence\nemanating from a fixed centre?\n\nThe comparison now becomes more complex, and can only be summarily\nattempted. The first leading question concerns the way in which the\npersonal divine being is imagined. In Mesopotamia was the religious\nperception dominatingly anthropomorphic, not merely in the sense that\nthe higher divine attributes were suggested by the higher moral and\nspiritual life of humanity, but in the more material sense that the\ndeity was imagined and represented habitually in human form? This\nquestion has been summarily treated in the first chapter. The\nMesopotamian cults are mainly anthropomorphic; in the earliest hymns\nand liturgies, as well as in the art-monuments, the divinities appear\nto have been {52} imagined as glorified human forms. The figure of\nShamash on the relief, where he sits enthroned inspiring\nHammurabi,[52.1] the form of Ninni bringing the captives to\nAnnabanini,[52.2] prove a very early dominance of anthropomorphic art\nin Mesopotamia. And the rule holds true on the whole of nearly all the\ngreat divinities of the Pantheon; the statue of Nebo the scribe-god in\nthe British Museum,[52.3] and the representation of him on the\ncylinders, are wholly anthropomorphic. The seven planetary deities on\nthe relief from Maltaija are human-shaped entirely;[52.4] we may say\nthe same of the procession of deities on the relief from a palace of\nNineveh published by Layard,[52.5] except that Marduk has horns\nbranching from the top of his head; just as on the alabaster relief\ncontaining the scene of worship noted above,[52.6] and on the\nwall-relief in the British Museum he is represented with wings; but\neven the rigorous anthropomorphism of Greece tolerated both these\nadjuncts to the pure human type. The types of Ramman the\nweather-god,[52.7] and the representations of a Babylonian goddess,\nwho is occasionally found with a child on her knee, and whom sometimes\nwe may recognise as Ishtar, show nothing that is theriomorphic. On the\nother hand, we must note exceptions to this general rule. In one of\nthe cuneiform inscriptions that describe certain types of deities, we\nread the following: \u201cHorn of a bull, clusters of hair falling on his\nback; human countenance, and strength of a\u2026; wings\u2026 and lion\u2019s body.\u201d\nAnd this description {53} agrees exactly, as Jeremias has pointed out,\nwith the winged colossal figures, half-lion, half-man, that guarded\nthe gate of the palace of Nineveh. And we must therefore interpret\nthem as gods, not as mere _genii_; and he gives some reason for\nregarding them as a type of Nergal, the god of the underworld.[53.1]\n\nFurther, we find in an inscription of Asarhaddon the following prayer:\n\u201cMay the gracious bull-god and lion-god ever dwell in that palace,\nprotecting the path of my royalty.\u201d[53.2]\n\nThere is some doubt in regard to the winged figures with eagles\u2019 heads\non the reliefs from Khorsabad, in the British Museum (pl. 38-40): they\nare represented holding pine-cones and a \u201ccista mystica\u201d on each side\nof the sacred tree, and might be _genii_ engaged in worship; but on\none of the reliefs Assur-nasir-Pal is standing before one of them in\nattitude of adoration.\n\nBut the most clear and definite evidence on this point is afforded by\nthe legend and monuments of the god whom Berosos calls Oannes,[53.3]\nbut whom modern Assyriology interprets as the ocean-born god Ea or Ae\nof Eridu, the god of all wisdom and science. According to Berosos, he\nhad entirely a fish body, but a human head had grown under the head of\nthe fish, human feet out of the fish\u2019s tail, and he spoke with human\nvoice: a statue of this type was still existing at Babylon according\nto this writer in the time of Alexander. Now the exact type is\npresented in the form that appears on various Babylonian cylinders;\nthere is one that presents the fish-man-god standing before the tree\nof Life--receiving a ray perhaps from the sun above:[53.4] and half\n{54} his form from the girdle downwards is preserved on a bas-relief\npublished by Layard,[54.1] showing him holding the bread of life in\none hand and in the other a vase containing the water of life. Here,\nthen, is theriomorphism struggling with anthropomorphism as we see it\nstrikingly in the religious monuments of Egypt.\n\nBut we have no need of the theory, dear to some anthropologists--that\nthe earliest period of Mesopotamian religion was purely theriomorphic,\nwhen the deities were imagined and represented merely as animals, and\nthat the human-shaped deities whom we find standing on lions in the\nBabylonian art had once been divine lions and nothing more, and had at\na later period emerged from the animal into divine manhood.\nTheriomorphism and anthropomorphism can and generally do confusedly\nco-exist: neither in the lowest savagery or at the highest culture is\nthere found a purely theriomorphic art or theriomorphic religion; on\nthe other hand, severe anthropomorphism among the ancient religions is\nto be found only in the Hellenic, and we may add in the Judaic, though\nhere with a quite different mode of expression and far more sternly\ncontrolled. In Mesopotamia we have nothing that points to a direct\nworship of animals,[54.2] but we discern that the anthropomorphism is\nunstable; {55} the religious artist mainly clung to it, except when he\nwas embodying forms of terror, the destructive demons, and especially\nthe powers of the lower world: for this purpose he selected the most\nportentous types of bestiality, such as we find on that bronze tablet,\nwhich used to be regarded as revealing an interesting glimpse into\nBabylonian eschatology: at least we may be sure that the lion-headed\nfemale above the horse in the canoe, at whose breasts two small lions\nare sucking, is the goddess of Hell.[55.1] It was probably through\nhis association with the world of death that Nergal acquired something\nof the lion\u2019s nature, and even the very human goddess Ishtar might\nassume a lion\u2019s head when she was unusually wroth, though this rests\non a doubtful text. We may say, then, with fair degree of accuracy,\nthat the theriomorphic forms of Babylonian religious art belong to\ndemonology; and in this domain the Babylonian artist has shown the\nsame powerful imagination as the Mycenaean: it is the former to whom\nwe are indebted for the attractively alarming type of the\nscorpion-man.\n\nThe phrase \u201cunstable anthropomorphism\u201d applies also to the religious\nliterature, to the Sumerian-Babylonian hymns. The imagination of the\npoets in their highest exaltation was certainly anthropomorphic on the\nwhole; the high divinities are conceived and presented with the\ncorporeal, moral, and spiritual traits of glorified humanity. But\noften in the ecstasy of invocation the religious poets felt the human\nimage too narrow and straightened for their struggling sense of the\nInfinite. Then the expression becomes mystic, and by virtue of a\ncurious law that I indicated above, it avails itself of theriomorphic\nimagery.[55.2] I quoted the hymn {56} to the warrior Marduk that\ninvokes him as \u201cBlack Bull of the deep, Lion of the Dark House.\u201d Of\nstill more interest is the invocation of Enlil, the earth-god of\nSumer: \u201cOverpowering ox, exalted overpowering ox, at thy word which\ncreated the world, O lord of lands, lord of the word of life, O Enlil,\nFather of Sumer, shepherd of the dark-haired people, thou who hast\nvision of thyself.\u201d[56.1] Seven times the words \u201coverpowering ox\u201d are\nadded in this mystic incantation. In another hymn Enlil is \u201cthe Bull\nthat overwhelms\u201d; Ea, \u201cthe Ram of Eridu.\u201d\n\nBut this is mystic symbolism, rather than a clear perception of divine\npersonality; and we may say the same of such vaguely picturesque\nphrases as \u201cBel, the great mountain,\u201d \u201cAsur, the great rock,\u201d an\nexpression parallel to our \u201cRock of Ages.\u201d[56.2]\n\nIt naturally happens in a religion of unstable anthropomorphism that\nthe different personalities are unfixed and may melt away one into the\nother, or may become conceived as metaphysical emanations, thus losing\nconcrete individuality. As Dr. Langdon remarks of Babylonian religious\nphraseology, \u201cthe god himself becomes mystified, he retires into the\nhazy conception of an all-pervading spirit, and his _word_ becomes the\nactive agent.\u201d[56.3] Thus even the strongly personal goddess \u201cNana\u201d\nis identified with the word of Enlil; she herself exclaims, \u201cOf the\nLord his word am I.\u201d His statement accords with the general impression\nthat the liturgies and monuments of this vast and complex religion\nmake upon the student. One discerns that the religious art, and to\nsome extent the religious poetry, developed {57} and strengthened the\nanthropomorphic faith and perception of the people, but not so\npowerfully as to preclude a mysticising tendency towards metaphysical\nspeculation that transcended the limits of a polytheism of concrete\npersonalities. Even Allatu, the goddess of Hell, she who was presented\nwith the dog\u2019s head and the lions at the breast, was half\nspiritualised by the epithet which is rendered \u201cspirit-wind of the\nconsecrate.\u201d[57.1]\n\nIn the other ancient Semitic communities we find the same phenomenon,\na prevailing anthropomorphism with some slight admixture of\ntheriomorphic idea. At Bambyke, the later Hierapolis, we have the\nrecord and tradition of Atargatis-Derketo, of human and fish-form\ncombined. In the cult of Esmun in Phoenicia, Baudissin[57.2] suspects\nthe incarnation of the god in a snake, which brought about his later\nidentification with Asklepios, and he suggests that the bronze serpent\nthat healed the Israelites in the desert was borrowed from a Canaanite\nidol of a healing snake. The Astarte-images found in prehistoric\nPalestine are mainly of human type, but one gives her the curving\nhorns of a ram, and a rude bronze was found at Tel Zakariya of an\namphibious goddess with human head and the tail of a fish.[57.3]\nSomething real underlies the statement of Sanchuniathon, quoted by\nEusebios, {58} that Astarte placed on her own head the head of a\nbull.[58.1]\n\nBut these are exceptional phenomena; and as the Hellenes in the later\nperiod were usually able to identify the leading Semitic deities with\ntheir own, we may see in this another proof that the Western and\nEastern religions were nearly on the same plane as regards their\nperception of divine personality.\n\nOnly, we discern signs in Canaan as in Mesopotamia, that the\nanthropomorphism is, as I have called it, unstable; for not only can\nthe divinity be imagined as embodied in other forms than the human,\nbut the demarcations of individuality tend at certain points to fall\naway: the most curious instance of this is that the female divinity\nseems at times to have been almost absorbed in the god. We must,\nhowever, distinguish here between what is real belief and what is mere\ntheologic phrasing. In a hymn of praise to Ishtar, composed for the\nKing Ashurbanapal, the equality of the goddess with the great Assyrian\ngod Asshur is quaintly expressed by the phrase, \u201clike Ashur, she wears\na beard\u201d; but Jastrow[58.2] protests against the inference that the\ngoddess was therefore really regarded as male in the Mesopotamian\nreligion. And indeed this is probably only a fantastic expression of\nthe idea that Ishtar is the compeer in power of the god, and has much\nof the masculine temperament. Even in the full vogue of an\nanthropomorphic religion which insists on the distinctions of sex, a\nmystical religious thinker could rise to the idea that the divinity\nmight assume the powers {59} of both natures, an idea of which we find\na glimpse in the later Greek and Greek-Egyptian theosophy. Thus a\nSumerian hymn to Enlil characterises him as \u201cLord of winds, father and\nmother who creates himself\u201d;[59.1] and a well-known hymn to Sin\nspeaks of him as \u201cMaternal Body that brings everything to birth,\u201d and\nin the next line as \u201cCompassionate, gracious father.\u201d[59.2]\n\nThe close approximation of the goddess to the god is more clearly\ndiscernible in the Canaanite religion. On the Moabite Mesha stone,\nAshtar-Chemosh appears as a double divinity; and one of the earlier\nCarthaginian inscriptions refers to a temple of Moloch-Astarte.[59.3]\nAgain Astarte, in the inscription on the sarcophagus of Eshmounazar of\nSidon, is called Astart-Shem-Baal, which signifies Astarte the Face of\nBaal; and in the Carthaginian inscriptions the same designation occurs\nfor Tanit. Renan has interpreted the phrase as expressing the dogma\nthat the goddess is an emanation of the god, but Dr. Langdon would\nexplain it as arising from the close opposition of the two statues\nface to face, Astart-Shem-Baal merely meaning, then, \u201cShe who fronts\nBaal.\u201d Whichever interpretation be correct, such close assimilation of\nthe pair might evolve here and there the concept of a bisexual\ndivinity. Unless the evidence of the classical writers is false, it\ndid so at a later period under Phoenician influences in Cyprus.\nMacrobius tells us that there was in that island a statue of a bearded\ndeity in female dress, regarded as bisexual, and he quotes Philochoros\nas witness to the fact, and to the curious phenomenon in the ritual in\nwhich the {60} men wore female dress and the women male. This explains\nCatullus\u2019 phrase \u201cduplex Amathusia\u201d of the bisexual goddess. Servius\nand the Christian fathers repeat the statement, and Joannes Lydus\nasserts that the Pamphylians at one time worshipped a bearded\nAphrodite;[60.1] if we trust his authority, we might explain the fact\nas due to late Semitic influence, which is somewhat attested by\ninscriptions on the coinage of Pamphylia under the Persian\ndomination.[60.2] But, at the most, we can only regard this cult as a\nlate phenomenon, a local eccentricity, and a morbid development of a\ncertain vague idea that was working sporadically in the old Semitic\nreligion. We have no right to assert, as some have occasionally\nventured, that the Semitic peoples generally accepted the dogma of a\nbisexual divinity.\n\nTurning now to the other great area of culture that lay between\nMesopotamia and the coast, that of the Hittite kingdoms, we find that\nthe Hittite deity is usually presented in human form. On the great\nrelief of Boghaz-Keui, the distinctions of the human family appear in\nthe divine forms, in whom we may recognise the father god, the mother\ngoddess with her young son, or it may be, as Dr. Frazer suggests, with\nher young lover. And the other Hittite representations of divinity to\nwhich I have referred above are of purely human form, and so also are\nthe small Hittite bronze idols in the Ashmolean Museum. Nevertheless\nhere, as in Mesopotamia, the theriomorphic fancy was active at the\nsame time. On the relief at Boghaz-Keui, nearest to the innermost\nshrine, the Holy of Holies, is an idol {61} of human visage with a\nbody composed of a bizarre arrangement of lion-forms; and in the\nprocession near to the main deities we note a strange representation\nof two bulls in mitred caps of Hittite fashion, and to these mystic\nbeasts we may apply the name theanthropic, which Robertson Smith\nsuggested for the sacrificial animal that was half-divine, half-human.\nAnd clearer evidence still is afforded by another relief found not far\nfrom this site at the palace of Euiuk, where a bull is represented on\na pedestal with worshippers approaching.[61.1] He is not here the\nsacrificial animal, for he and the altar before him are on a higher\nplane, while the priest and priestess below are raising their hands to\nhim as if in adoration, and are leading rams evidently as victims to\nthe bull-god. We may be sure, then, that there was some close\nassociation of the Hittite divinity with the bull, as there was with\nthe lions upon which both god and goddess are standing; and this is\nfurther illustrated by the horns that adorn the conical cap of the god\nat Ibriz,[61.2] to whom the grapes and corn were consecrated.\n\nAgain, the relief on the gate at Sinjerli[61.3] affords us another\nclear example of a divinity only partly anthropomorphic: a god with\nthe body of a man and the head of a lion; as he bears a hunting weapon\nin one hand and a hare in the other, and on each shoulder a bird is\nsitting, we may regard him as a deity of the chase. Finally, from\ncertain cuneiform texts found at Boghaz-Keui, and recently published\nand interpreted by Professor Sayce,[61.4] we gather that the eagle,\nprobably the double-headed {62} eagle which appears as an ensign on\nHittite monuments, was deified; for we appear to have a reference to\n\u201cthe house\u201d or temple \u201cof the eagle\u201d (Bit Id Khu), and this fact may\nhelp to explain the figure of a man\u2019s body with a bird\u2019s head on a\nrelief of Sinjerli.[62.1]\n\nAs regards the test, then, that we are at present applying, it seems\nthat the Hittite and the Mesopotamian religions were more or less on\nthe same plane, though we may suspect that theriolatry was stronger in\nthe former. It is also important for our purpose to register in\npassing the clear proof of certain religious approximations, probably\nin the second millennium B.C., between the Hittites and the\nAssyrian-Babylonian kingdom. The Hittite god Teshup, with the\ndouble-headed hammer or axe and the forked lightning in his hand, is\nof close kin and similar in type to the Canaanite, Syrian, and\nBabylonian Ramman-Adad, the god of storms.[62.2] But the evidence\ndoes not yet seem to me to make it clear which people or group of\npeoples was in this case the borrower, which the lender. And the same\ndoubt arises in respect of the striking art-type of the divinity\nstanding on the lion; we find it in the early Hittite monuments, such\nas the Boghaz-Keui sculptured slabs; and again on the relief of\nGargamich, on which is a winged male deity standing on a lion and a\npriest behind him, also on a lion;[62.3] and later among the Tarsos\nrepresentations of the Hittite Sandon: it was in vogue at the Syrian\nBambyke and at Babylon. The assumption of Perrot[62.4] is that it was\n{63} of Babylonian origin, but the art-chronology does not seem to\nspeak decisively in this matter. It is not necessary here to prejudge\nthis difficult problem: it does not directly affect our present\nquestion, as the type of the goddess with lions comes into Hellas only\nat a later period. As regards the other Anatolian peoples who came\ninto close contact with the Hellenes, we may find abiding influences\nof certain Hittite religious ideas and motives of religious art. We\nmay admit that the lion-borne goddess of Boghaz-Keui is the prototype\nof Kybele, even the crenelated headdress that she wears suggesting the\nturreted diadem of the later goddess: it is likely that the ancient\ntype of Teshup, the weather-god with hammer or axe and the lightning,\nsurvived in Commagene in the cult-figure that was afterwards\ninterpreted as Jupiter Dolichenus: and it may have influenced the\nideas about the thunder-god in Pontus, as a primitive relief of a god\nbrandishing a thunderbolt and holding a shield has been found near\nAmasia.[63.1] Speaking generally, we must pronounce the native\npre-Hellenic religious art of the Asia Minor littoral, of Phrygia,\nLydia, Caria, anthropomorphic, so far as it tried at all to embody the\nimagined form of the divinity. The record is generally blurred by the\nlater Hellenic influences. But we have at least in Phrygia rude images\nof the pre-Hellenic Cybele; the intention of these is anthropomorphic,\nand in the rough outline of the goddess\u2019s form as hewn out of the rock\nof Sipylos above Smyrna, the Hellenes could discern their sorrowing\nNiobe. Where the anthropomorphism fails, as in the Phrygian monument,\nwhich shows Cybele seated with a phiale and human-shaped in other\nrespects, but with a head fashioned like \u201cthe round capital of a {64}\npillar,\u201d[64.1] the influence of the aniconic fetich may be the cause.\nAt any rate, we have no clear trace of theriomorphism either in the\nlegend nor in the monuments of the great mother, the Kybele of\nPhrygia, or the M\u0101 of Cappadocia. The power of the mountain-goddess\nwas incarnate in the lions, but we have no ground for saying that she\nherself was ever worshipped as a lion.\n\nWe turn at last to the Minoan-Mycenaean and proto-Hellenic periods;\nfor our present purpose the two cannot well be kept apart, as much of\nthe evidence concerning the former is derived from records of myths\nand religious customs that were in vogue in the later period. Our\nfirst glimpse of the Minoan religion, which Sir Arthur Evans more than\nany one else has revealed to us,[64.2] gave us the impression of an\naniconic worship that had for its sacred \u201cagalmata\u201d such fetich\nobjects as the sacred pillar or double-headed axe, but which did not\nexpress its actual imagination of its divinities in any art-type. If\nthis were so, we should not be able to answer the question how far the\nMinoan religion was purely anthropomorphic until we have found the\ninterpretation of Minoan writing. But our store of monuments has been\nmuch enriched by later discoveries in the Palace of Knossos, and in\none of its private chapels in which the Cross was the central sacred\nemblem, Sir Arthur Evans found the interesting figure of the\nsnake-goddess--purely human, but holding snakes in her hands and\ngirdled with snakes, while before her stands a votary {65} brandishing\na snake:[65.1] again, a Minoan signet-ring published by him[65.2]\nrevealed the great mountain-goddess herself on the summit of a peak\nflanked by lions and holding a spear. These may be actual\nreproductions of cult-images; and many other gems and other works have\nnow been published by him and others proving that the people who\nbelonged to this great Aegean culture of the second millennium\nhabitually conceived of their gods in human form, even if they did not\nas a rule erect their idols in their temples. Thus on a gem which\nshows us an act of worship performed by a female votary before a\nsacred pillar, a human-shaped god with rays round his head and holding\na spear is hovering in the air above it;[65.3] and on the great\nsarcophagus of Praisos we have on the one side a complex scene of\nritual, conspicuous for the absence of any idol or eikon of the\ndivinity, and at the other end a human form of god, or it may be hero,\nstanding as if he had just come forth from his shrine or\nhero\u00f6n.[65.4] In fact, the Minoan-Mycenaean religious monuments have\nrevealed to us at least three personages, anthropomorphically\nconceived, of the popular religion of the period that we may call\npre-Hellenic: a great goddess, often represented as throned, with\nfruits and emblems of vegetation around her, or as standing on a\nmountain and associated with lions; a god who is sometimes conversing\nwith her or is descending from the sky armed with spear and\nshield,[65.5] and sometimes rayed; thirdly, the goddess with the\nsnake as her familiar. {66} To this extent, then, the Minoan-Mycenaean\npeoples were on the same plane of religion as those of Mesopotamia:\nand the record of the anthropomorphic divinity can be traced in the\nAegean area back to the fourth millennium B.C. by the nude figures in\nstone of a goddess of fecundity with arms pressed across her breasts,\na type belonging to the Neolithic period.\n\nIn passing, let us observe that neither the earliest prehistoric art\nof the Mediterranean nor the great religious types of the Minoan\ndivinities recall the art style of Mesopotamia.\n\nBut this developed anthropomorphism of the early Aegean civilisation\nis not the whole story. Modern research has accumulated evidence that\nseems to point to a theriomorphic religion in Crete and in Mycenaean\nGreece which has been supposed by some to have preceded the former in\norder of time and in the logical process of evolution, and which at\nany rate survived by the side of it. Traces of the same phenomenon\nhave been noted in the Hittite area, and more faintly in the valley of\nthe Euphrates. The first modern writer who proclaimed with emphasis\nthe theriomorphic elements in the prehistoric religions of Greece was\nMr. A. Lang in his _Custom and Myth_, connecting it with a theory of\ntotemism that does not concern us here. Afterwards, a systematic\ntreatment of the problem in the light of the monuments of the Cretan\nand Mycenaean periods was presented by Mr. Cook in a paper published\nin the _Hellenic Journal_ of 1894 on \u201cAnimal Worship in the Mycenaean\nAge\u201d; and again in 1895 by an essay on \u201cThe Bee in Greek Mythology\u201d: a\nvery full collection of the materials, with some exposition of\nimportant religious theory, will be found in De Visser\u2019s treatise, _De\nGraecorum Diis non referentibus speciem humanam_ {67} (1900). Miss J.\nHarrison has worked further along the same lines, and has published\nsome special results in her paper read before the Congress of the\nHistory of Religions, 1908, and published in its _Transactions_, on\n\u201cBird and Pillar Worship in relation to Ouranian Divinities.\u201d\n\nNow the material that forms the fabric of these researches is so\nintricate, the relevant facts so manifold and minute, that it is\nimpossible to consider them in detail within the limits of this\npresent inquiry, of which the leading object is an important question\nof history concerning the religious influence of the East on the West;\nand, again, the writers above mentioned are deeply concerned with\ntheories about the origins, or at least the earlier stages in the\nevolution of religion. And as I am only comparing East and West in a\nlimited and somewhat advanced period of their history, I am not\nnecessarily bound to deal with problems of origin. Nevertheless, a\nsummary survey of this group of facts may provide us with important\nclues towards the solution of our main question. But a few general\ncriticisms of the assumptions which, whether latent or explicit, are\ncommonly made in the writings just quoted, may be useful at the\noutset. First, one finds that the word \u201cworship\u201d is used very loosely\nby the ancients as well as by contemporary writers: and by its vague\nand indiscriminate employment an effort is made to convince us that\nthe pre-Hellenic and proto-Hellenic world worshipped the lion, the ox,\nthe horse, the ass, the stag, the wolf, the pig, the bird, especially\nthe dove, the eagle, and lastly even the cock. We should have to deal\nwith a savage religion rioting in theriolatry, and we should not need\nto trouble any longer about the theory of its Mesopotamian origin, for\nas we have seen theriomorphism played a very small part in the\nSumerian-Babylonian cult. But one {68} must ask more precisely, What\nis worship, and what does lion-worship, for instance, imply? Are we to\nbelieve that every one of these animals was worshipped, the whole\nspecies being divine? And does their \u201cworship\u201d mean that the\nsuperstitious people prayed to them, built altars or sacred columns,\nor even shrines to them, and offered them sacrifice? It has become\nurgent to reserve some such strict sense for the word as this, in\norder to preserve a sense of the distinction between our\nritual-service of a real personal divinity and the various, often\ntrifling, acts that may be prompted by the uneasy feeling or\nreverential awe evoked by the presence of a curious or dangerous\nanimal. Thus, to abstain from eating or injuring mice or weasels is\nnot to worship mice or weasels: to lament over a dead sea-urchin is\nnot to worship sea-urchins: to give a wolf a decorous funeral is not\nto worship wolves: to throw a piece of sacrificial meat to flies\nbefore a great sacrifice to some high divinity is not to worship\nflies. All these things the civilised Greeks could do, but they ought\nnot for that to be charged with worshipping whole species of animals\ndirectly as gods. Next let us bear well in mind that secular animals,\nlike secular things, can become temporarily sacred through contact\nwith the altar: thus the ox who voluntarily approached the altar and\nate of the grain or cakes upon it, might be believed by the Hellenes\nto become instantly divine, full of the life of the divinity, and most\nceremonious respect resembling worship might be meted out to him; but\nwe should not hastily believe that the Greeks who might feel like this\ntowards that particular ox worshipped all oxen; or that the society of\nKing Minos worshipped all axes wherever found, because in peculiar\ncircumstances and ritual an axe might become charged with {69}\ndivinity. Finally, I may again protest against the fallacy of\nsupposing that theriomorphism always precedes anthropomorphism: for an\never-increasing mass of evidence forces one to the conviction that\nthey are often co-existent and always compatible one with the other;\nif this is so, it is rash and unscientific to say, as is so easy to\nsay and is so often said, when one meets in the Mediterranean or\nelsewhere a human god or goddess accompanied by a lion or a cock, that\nthe anthropomorphic divinity has been evolved from the animal.\n\nLooking now directly to the Minoan-Mycenaean monuments, before we\nconsider the early Hellenic records, we must distinguish between those\nthat are obviously cult-scenes and those that are not obviously but\nonly hypothetically so, and this second class are those with which Mr.\nCook\u2019s papers mainly deal. The former have been treated masterfully by\nSir Arthur Evans in his paper on \u201cTree and Pillar Cult\u201d; from these we\ngather that the worshipper did not usually pray before an idol, but\nbefore a pillar or a sacred tree combined often with horns of\nconsecration or an axe; also that he imagined his deity generally in\nhuman form, the pillar serving as a spiritual conductor to draw down\nthe divinity from heaven. Therefore I may remark that the phrase\n\u201cpillar-cult\u201d here, and in Miss Harrison\u2019s paper quoted above, does\nnot express the inwardness of the facts. But the latter writer\nendeavours to prove the prevalence of a direct cult of birds in this\nperiod; and further maintains the dogma that \u201cin the days of pillar\nand bird anthropomorphism was not yet.\u201d The Minoan monuments on which\nshe relies are the great Phaistos sarcophagus, the trinity of\nterra-cotta pillars surmounted by doves found in an early shrine of\nthe Palace of Knossos,[69.1] with {70} which are to be compared the\ndove-shrine of Mycenae and the gold-leafed goddesses of Mycenae with a\ndove perched on their heads; and finally, the semi-aniconic idol of a\ndove goddess, with the dove on her head and her arms outspread like\nwings, found in another shrine of the palace of Knossos, and\ndescending from a pre-Mycenaean traditional type.[70.1] Whatever we\nmay think of these monuments, they cannot be quoted as the memorials\nof a time \u201cwhen anthropomorphism was not yet\u201d; for the earliest of\nthem, probably that mentioned last, is of later date than the type of\nthe naked human-formed goddess of the Neolithic Aegean period.\n\nThe question depends wholly on the true interpretation of the\nmonuments; as regards the Phaistos sarcophagus, the exact significance\nof the ritual is still a matter of controversy, to which I may return\nlater, when I compare the ritual of east and west; this much is clear,\nthat a holy service of blood-oblation is being performed before two\nsacred trees, into the top of which two axes are inserted and on the\naxes are two birds painted black. Is it immediately clear that \u201cthe\nbirds are objects of a definite cult,\u201d as Miss Harrison\nmaintains?[70.2] This may be strongly disputed; otherwise we must say\nthat the axe and the tree are equally direct objects of cult. But the\nilluminative scene on the signet-ring described above[70.3] suggests\nthat the function of the pillar was to serve as a powerful magnet to\nattract a personal divinity. And Sir Arthur Evans has well shown that\nthe tree and the pillar were of equal value as sacred objects in\nMinoan-Mycenaean religion. A sacrifice doubtless of mystic and magical\npower is {71} being performed before them here: the worshippers may\nwell believe that the combined influence of blood-offering, sacred\ntree, and sacred axe will draw down the divinity of the skies. In what\nform visible to the eye would he descend? The carver of that\nsignet-ring dared to show him above the pillar in human form, as the\nmind\u2019s eye though not the sense-organ of the worshipper discerned him.\nBut the artist of the Phaistos sarcophagus is more reserved. As the\nHoly Ghost descended in the form of a dove, so the unseen celestial\ndivinity of Crete might use any bird of the air as his messenger,\nperhaps by preference the woodpecker or dove. And this natural idea\nwould be supported by the fact that occasionally birds did alight on\nthe top of sacred columns, and they would then instantly be charged\nwith the sanctity of that object and would be regarded as a sign of\nthe deity\u2019s presence and as an auspicious answer to prayer and\nsacrifice. Thus many birds in Greece became sacred by haunting\ntemples; and Dr. Frazer has suggested that the swallows and sparrows\nthat nested on the temple or on the altar at Jerusalem acquired\nsanctity by the same simple religious logic.[71.1] But it is futile\nto argue that therefore the Hellenes and Hebrews once worshipped\neither the whole species of swallows and sparrows or any single one.\nAnd Sir Arthur Evans\u2019 own interpretation of the doves on the triple\ngroup of columns, as being merely \u201cthe image of the divine descent,\nand of the consequent possession of the bactylic column by a spiritual\nbeing,\u201d is sane and convincing.[71.2] This does not prove or\nnecessarily lead to \u201cbird-worship.\u201d Further, he suggests[71.3] that\nas the dove was originally posed on the top of the column {72} as a\ngracious sign of the divine presence, so when the human form was\nbeginning to take the place of the column the dove would then be seen\non the human head, as in the case of the statuettes of goddesses\nmentioned above, and as it appeared on the head of the golden image at\nBambyke, which some called Semiramis.[72.1] The close association of\nthe Mediterranean goddess and of the goddess of Askalon, Phoenicia,\nand Bambyke with doves may have been caused by several independent\nreasons; one may well have been the habitual frequenting of her temple\nby the birds. This would easily grow into a belief that the goddess\nwhen she wished to reveal something of her presence and power to the\nexternal eye would manifest herself in the bird. This we may call\ntheriomorphic imagination that goes _pari passu_ easily with the\nanthropomorphic. But none of these monuments come near to proving that\nthis Mediterranean race directly worshipped birds, nor do they suggest\nany such theory as that the human divinity emerged from the bird. We\nshall, in fact, find that evidence of this kind that I have been\nexamining, used recklessly in similar cases, leads to absurd\nresults.[72.2]\n\nHere it is well to remark in passing that the cult of {73} the\nDove-goddess is a test case for trying the question of Oriental\ninfluence on the west. It cannot be traced back to Babylon, and no one\nwould now maintain the old theory that the dove-shrines of Mycenae\nwere an import from the Phoenician Astarte cult. Sir Arthur Evans\u2019\ndiscoveries enable us to carry back this particular worship in the\nAegean to pre-Mycenaean times. We could with better right maintain\nthat the Syrians borrowed it from the Aegean or possibly from Askalon,\nwhere, as Dr. Evans has pointed out, Minoan influences were strong.\nBut the most reasonable view is that which he expresses that \u201cthe\ndivine associations of the dove were a primitive heritage of primitive\nGreece and Anatolia.\u201d[73.1]\n\nAs regards Mr. Cook\u2019s theory of Mycenaean animal-worship, it is not\nnow necessary to examine it at any length. It was based mainly on a\ncomparison of a fairly large number of \u201cMycenaean\u201d seals and gems from\nCrete and elsewhere showing monsters bearing animals on their\nshoulders or standing by them. He interpreted the \u201cmonsters\u201d as men\nengaged in a religious mummery, wearing the skins of lions, asses,\nhorses, bulls, stags, swine, that is, as ministers of a divine lion,\nass, etc., bringing sacrificial animals to these animal-deities, and\nhe raised the large questions of totemism and totemistic\ncult-practices. His theory presents a picture of zoolatric ritual that\ncannot be paralleled elsewhere in the world either among primitive or\nadvanced societies. And we begin to distrust it when it asks us to\ninterpret the figures in a gem-representation as an ass-man bearing\ntwo lions to sacrifice; for neither in Greece, Egypt, or {74} Asia is\nthere any record of a lion-sacrifice, a ceremony which would be\ndifficult to carry out with due solemnity. The more recent discovery\nof a set of clay-sealings at Zakro in Crete by Dr. Hogarth, who\npublished them in the _Hellenic Journal_ of 1902, has rendered Mr.\nCook\u2019s view of the cult-value of these \u201cmonsters\u201d now untenable. They\nare found in combinations too widely fantastic to be of any value for\ntotemistic or a zoolatric theory, and the opinion of archaeologists\nlike Sir Arthur Evans and Winter[74.1] that these bizarre forms arose\nfrom modifications of foreign types, such as the Egyptian hippopotamus\ngoddess, crossed at times with the hippokamp and the lion, has\nreceived interesting confirmation from the discovery of a shell relief\nat Phaistos showing a series of monsters with hippopotamus heads, and\nin a pose derived undoubtedly from a Nilotic type.[74.2] We may\nventure to say that the exuberant fancy of the Minoan-Mycenaean artist\nran riot and amused itself with wild combinations of monsters, men and\nanimals, to which no serious meaning was attached.\n\nOnly rarely, when the monsters are ritualistically engaged in watering\na sacred palm tree or column,[74.3] does the religious question\narise. And here we may find a parallelism in Assyrian religious art,\nin the representation of \u201cwinged genii fertilising the adult palms\nwith the male cones\u201d; but according to Sir Arthur Evans this motive is\nlater in the Eastern art than in the Mycenaean. Perhaps only one type\nof monster found on these gems and seals is derived from a real\ntheriomorphic figure of the contemporary religion, namely, the\nMinotaur {75} type. A few of the Zakro sealings show the sealed figure\nof a human body with bovine head, ears, and tail[75.1]; and a clay\nseal-impression found at Knossos presents a bovine human figure with\npossibly a bovine head sealed in a hieratic attitude before a warrior\nin armour.[75.2] Such archaeological evidence is precarious, but when\nwe compare it with the indigenous Cretan legends of the bull-Zeus and\nthe union of Pasiphae with the bull, we are tempted to believe that a\nbull-headed god or a wholly bovine deity had once a place in Minoan\ncult.\n\nTo conclude, this brief survey of the Minoan-Mycenaean monuments\npoints to a contemporary religion that preferred the aniconic agalma\nto the human idol, but imagined the divinity mainly as\nanthropomorphic, though this imagination was probably not so fixed as\nto discard the theriomorphic type entirely. Therefore this religion is\non the same plane with that of Mesopotamia rather than with that of\nEgypt.\n\nTurning now to the proto-Hellenic period, which, without prejudging\nany ethnic question, I have kept distinct from the Mycenaean, we have\nhere the advantage of literary records to assist the archaeological\nevidence. I have stated my conviction that the earliest Hellenes had\nalready reached the stage of personal polytheism before conquering the\nsouthern Peninsula; and the combined evidence of the facts of myths\nand cults justifies the belief that their imagination of the deity was\nmainly anthropomorphic. By the period of the Homeric poems, composed\nperhaps some five centuries after the earliest entrance of the\nHellenes, we must conclude that the anthropomorphism as a religious\n{76} principle was predominant in the more progressive minds that\nshaped the culture of the race: a minute but speaking example of this\nis the change that ensued in accordance with Homeric taste in the\nmeaning of the old hieratic epithet \u03b2\u03bf\u1ff6\u03c0\u03b9\u03c2; in all probability it\noriginally designated a cow-faced goddess, but it is clear that he\nintends it for ox-eyed, an epithet signifying the beauty of the large\nand lustrous human eye. The bias that is felt in the religious poetry\nof Homer comes to determine the course of the later religious art, so\nthat the religion, art, and literature of historic Greece may be\ncalled the most anthropomorphic or anthropocentric in the world. Yet\nwe have sufficient proof that in the pre-Homeric age the popular mind\nwas by no means bound by any such law, and that the religious\nimagination was unfixed and wavering in its perception of divinity:\nand the belief must have been general that the god, usually imagined\nas a man, might manifest himself at times in the form of some animal.\nApollo Lykeios, the wild god of the woods, was evidently in the habit\nof incarnating himself in the wolf, so that wolves might be\nsacramentally offered to him or sacrifice offered to certain\nwolves.[76.1] In the Artemis legend of Brauron and Aulis we detect\nthe same close communion of the goddess with the bear. Now, upon the\nfairly numerous indications in cult-legend and ritual that the deity\nwas occasionally incarnate in the animal, much fallacious\nanthropological theory has been built. It is not now my cue to pursue\nthis matter _au fond_. But it is necessary for my purpose to emphasise\nthe fact that there is fair evidence for some direct zoolatry in the\nproto-Hellenic period, though there is less than is often supposed,\nand it needs always careful criticism. {77} As I have already said,\nthe ancients of the later learned period were often vague and\nunprecise when they spoke of \u201cthe worship\u201d of animals. Thus Clemens\ninforms us[77.1] that the Thessalians \u201cworshipped\u201d ants, and on the\nauthority of Euphorion that the Samians \u201cworshipped\u201d a sheep: the word\nused in each case being \u03c3\u03ad\u03b2\u03b5\u03b9\u03bd. But accurate statements concerning\nreligious psychology demand the nicest discrimination: \u201ca little more,\nand how much it is.\u201d We may suspect that the word \u03c3\u03ad\u03b2\u03b5\u03b9\u03bd was as\nvaguely used in antiquity as the term \u201cworship\u201d in loose modern\nwriting: and it is to be remarked that when one authority uses this\nword, another may employ the verb \u03c4\u03b9\u03bc\u1fb6\u03bd, which does not imply so much.\nFor instance, Clemens states that the Thebans \u201chonoured\u201d the weasel;\nAelian, that they \u201cworshipped\u201d it.[77.2] We are nearly always left in\ndoubt how much is meant: whether the animal was merely treated\nreverentially and its life spared, or whether sacrifice and prayers\nwere offered to it: the former practice may be found in almost any\nsociety modern or ancient, the latter is savage zoolatry, and is a\nfact of importance for the religious estimate of a people.\n\nI cannot consider all the cases which are given with sufficient\nfullness in the work that I have cited by De Visser.[77.3] But the\ninstance cited above--the Samian worship of the sheep\n[\u03c0\u03c1\u03cc\u03b2\u03b1\u03c4\u03bf\u03bd]--shows us how little we have to build our theories on. It\nis quite possible that such a story arose from some ritual in which\nthe sheep was offered reverentially, treated as a theanthropic {78}\nanimal, half-human, half-divine, like the bull-calf of Tenedos in the\ncult of Dionysos,[78.1] an interesting form of sacrifice to which I\nshall have occasion to refer again. Clear records of actual sacrifice\nto animals in Greece are exceedingly rare. We have the quaint example\nof the so-called \u201cSacrifice\u201d to the flies before the feast of Apollo\non the promontory of Leukas; this I have discussed elsewhere,[78.2]\npointing out that it seems only a ritual trick to persuade the flies\nto leave the worshippers alone, and certainly does not suggest the\n\u201cworship\u201d of flies.[78.2] There is also a dim ritual-legend attaching\nto the temple of Apollo the wolf-god in Sikyon, which appears to point\nto some sacrifice to wolves in or near the temple at some early\nperiod.[78.3] The third case is more important: the \u201csacrifice to the\npig,\u201d which Athenaeus, quoting from Agathokles of Kyzikos, attests was\nan important service at Praisos in Crete, performed as a \u03c0\u03c1\u03bf\u03c4\u03b5\u03bb\u1f74\u03c2\n\u03b8\u03c5\u03c3\u03af\u03b1, that is, as a preliminary act in the liturgies of the higher\nreligion.[78.4] The ritual-legend explained the act as prompted by\nthe service that a sow had rendered to the infant Zeus; but it remains\nmysterious, and we would like to have had more clear information as to\nthe actual rite. Finally, we have the most important type of zoolatric\nritual in Greece, the worship of certain sacred snakes: various\nrecords attest this in the cult of Trophonios at Lebadeia and in the\ntemple of Athena Polias at Athens; in the cult of Zeus-Meilichios in\nthe Piraeus, in the sacred grove of Apollo in Epeiros, probably in the\nshrines of Asklepios at Epidauros and Kos, and elsewhere.\n\n{79}\n\nNow it is important to note that these ritual records nowhere suggest\nthat whole species of animals were worshipped, but that only certain\nindividuals of that species, haunting certain places to which a sense\nof religious mystery attached, such as a cave or a lonely grove, or\nelse found in or near some holy shrine, were thus marked out as\ndivine. Also, we observe that in all the examples just quoted, the\ncult of the animal is linked to the cult of some personal god or\ngoddess or hero: the snake, for instance, is the natural incarnation\nof the underworld divinity or hero. The only exception to this latter\nrule that may be reasonably urged is the prehistoric worship of Python\nat Delphi, which, as Dr. Frazer has pointed out, is curiously like the\nritual and cult of a fetich-snake in Dahomey.[79.1] Yet, for all we\nknow, Python, who in the earliest version of the story is of female\nsex, may at a very early time have been regarded not as a mere snake,\nbut as an incarnation of the earth-goddess Gaia, who ruled at Delphi\nbefore Apollo came. The question whether the ancestors of the Hellenes\nor the pre-Hellenic peoples with whom they mixed were ever on the\nlowest plane of theriolatry does not concern us here. What is\nimportant is, that the records, both Mycenaean and Hellenic, justify\nus in believing that the dominant religion in Greece of the second\nmillennium B.C. was the worship of personal divinities humanly\nconceived who could occasionally incarnate themselves in animal form,\nand that where animal worship survived it was always linked in this\nway to the cults of personal polytheism. From the Homeric period\nonward, the higher Hellenic spirit shows itself averse to the\ntheriomorphic fashion of religion; yet this never disappeared wholly\nfrom {80} the lower circles. Arcadia, the most backward and\nconservative of the Greek communities, never accepted the rigid\nanthropomorphic canon. This is shown by the record of the Phigaleian\nDemeter with the horse\u2019s head; the mysterious goddess Eurynome of\nPhigaleia, half-woman, half-fish; the Arcadian Pan, the daimon of the\nherds, imagined as with goat legs and sometimes with goat\u2019s head; and,\nfinally, by the Arcadian idols of the Roman period found at Lykosoura\nin 1898, representing the female form with the head of a cow.[80.1]\n\nThis r\u00e9sum\u00e9 of the facts, so far as it has gone, appears to justify\nthe theorem with which it started, that the \u201cMycenaean\u201d peoples and\nproto-Hellenes in the second millennium were on the whole, in respect\nof the morphology of their religion, on the same plane as those of the\nEuphrates valley; only it appears that theriomorphism played slightly\nmore part in the cults and legends of the West than in those of the\nSumerian-Babylonian culture. It is obvious to any student of\ncomparative religion that such general similarity which we have here\nobserved, and which we might observe if we compared early Greece with\nVedic India, neither proves nor disproves a theory of borrowing. And\nso far there seems no occasion for resorting to such a theory, unless\nthe type of the fish-goddess at Phigaleia be considered a reason for\nsupposing Semitic influences here at work and for tracing her ancestry\nto Derketo of Bambyke. For such transference of cult we might have to\ninvoke the help of Phoenicians, who arrive on the scene too late to\nhelp us in the present quest, and who are not likely to have been\nattracted into the interior of Arcadia.\n\n\n\n\n CHAPTER V.\n The Predominance of the Goddess.\n\n{81}\n\nThe next clue that I propose to follow in our general comparison is\nthe relative prominence of the goddess-cult in the areas that we are\nsurveying. The subject is of importance and interest, partly because\nit may throw some light on the question of the interdependence of the\nadjacent religions, partly because it brings into view certain\nstriking facts of religious psychology. A religion without a goddess\nis liable to differ markedly in tone and colour, and probably in\nritual, from those that possess one. Wherever anthropomorphism is\nallowed free play, the same instinct which evolves the father-god will\nevolve the mother-goddess; and when the religion is one of the type\nwhich Tiele calls \u201cNature-religions,\u201d one, that is, where ideas\nreflecting the forces of the natural world lie on the surface of the\nconception of the divine personality, some of these forces are so\nnaturally regarded as feminine that the evolution of a goddess appears\ninevitable; and the only world-religions that have rejected this idea\nare the Judaic, the Islamic, and Protestant Christianity. Now\ngoddess-cult is often found to exercise a powerful influence on the\nreligious emotion; and the religious psychology of a people devoted to\nit will probably differ from those who eschew it; often it will be\nlikely to engender a peculiar sentiment of tenderness, of\nsentimentality in {82} an otherwise austere and repellent religious\nsystem; and the clinging entreaty of the child is heard in the prayers\nor reflected in the ritual; and just as the mother frequently stands\nbetween the children and the father as the mild intercessor, so the\ngoddess often becomes the mediator of mercy to whom the sinners turn\nas their intercessor with the offended god. Such was Isis for the\nGraeco-Roman world; such at times was Athena for the Athenians; such\nis the Virgin for Mediterranean Christendom.\n\nOr the goddess may be more merciless than any god, more delighting in\nbloodshed, more savage in resisting progress: such often was Artemis\nfor the Greeks, such is Kala at this moment in India, a dangerous and\nliving force that threatens our rule. Again, the goddess may encourage\npurity in the sexual relations; this was the potential value of the\nideal of Artemis in Greece, and perhaps the actual value of Mariolatry\nin the Middle Ages. Or the goddess-cult may be the source of what to\nus appears gross licentiousness, as was the case in Babylon and some\nparts of Asia Minor. This discordance in the character of\ngoddess-cults may reflect the diversity of the masculine feeling\ntowards women, and also to some extent the position of women at\ndifferent stages of culture in the family and in the State. The whole\nsubject has many fascinating aspects, which relevance prevents me\npresenting in detail. I have considered elsewhere the sociologic\nquestions involved in goddess-cult;[82.1] and I must limit my\nattention here to its value as ethnic evidence.\n\nIn Mesopotamia the phenomenon presents itself at the very earliest\nperiod of which we have record. The {83} monument already\ndescribed[83.1] on which the goddess Nini is presenting captives to\nthe King Annabanini, attests the prevalence of goddess-cult in the\nthird millennium; and Tiele supposes--without, I think, sufficient\nevidence--that it was stronger in the Sumerian than in the Semitic\nperiod. At all events, the conquering Semites may have found the cult\nof goddesses well developed in the land; and in all probability they\nbrought at least one of their own with them, namely, Ishtar, whose\nname has its phonetic equivalents in Semitic Anatolia. Also at least\nby the second millennium B.C., the Babylonian pantheon was organised\nafter the type of the human family to this extent, that each male\ndivinity has his female consort; and it would not help us now to\nconsider the theorem put out by Jeremias and others that the various\nBabylonian goddesses are all emanations and varieties of one original\nAll-mother. Only the mighty Ishtar remains for the most part aloof\nfrom the marriage system, and her power transcends that of the other\ngoddesses. Originally the chief goddess of the Sumerian Erech, she was\nraised by the Assyrians to the highest position next to their national\ngod Asshur;[83.2] and for them she is the great divinity of war, who,\narmed with bow, quiver, and sword, orders the battle-ranks. In a\nfamous hymn,[83.3] perhaps the most fervent and moving of all the\nBabylonian collection, she seems exalted to a supreme place above all\nother divinities; another[83.4] displays the same ecstasy in\nadoration of the goddess Belit, imputing omnipotence to her, as one to\nwhom the very gods offer prayers. The same idea may be expressed in a\ndifficult {84} phrase in a hymn to Nebo[84.1] which contains his\ndialogue with Assurbanipal: \u201cNebo, who has grasped the feet of the\ndivine goddess, Queen of Nineveh,\u201d the goddess who came to be regarded\nas Ishtar.\n\nFrom such isolated indications we might conclude that the\nBabylonian-Assyrian religion was more devoted to the goddess than to\nthe god. We should certainly be wrong, as a more critical and wider\nsurvey of the facts, so far as they are at present accessible, would\nconvince us. These hymns imputing supreme omnipotence to the goddess,\nwhether Ishtar or another, may be merely examples of that tendency\nvery marked in the Babylonian liturgies, to exalt the particular\ndivinity to whom worship is at that moment being paid above all\nothers. The ecstatic poet is always contradicting himself. To the\nomnipotent Belit, in the last-mentioned hymn, a phrase is attached\nwhich Zimmern interprets as \u201cshe who carries out the commands of Bel,\u201d\nas if after all she were only a vicegerent. In the beautiful prayer to\nIshtar proffered by the Assyrian King Asurnasirabal (18th cent. B.C.)\nhe implores her to intercede for him, \u201cthe Priest-King, thy favourite\u2026\nwith Thy beloved the Father of the gods.\u201d[84.2] The beloved wife\nnaturally plays the Madonna part of the intercessor; thus Sanherib\nprays that Ninlil \u201cthe consort of Ashur, the mother of the great gods,\nmay daily speak a favourable word for Sanherib, the king of Assyria,\nbefore Ashur.\u201d[84.3] But the intercessor is not supreme; and in spite\nof the great power of Ishtar and the fervent {85} devotion she\naroused, the state-pantheon is predominantly masculine.\n\nNor can we, looking at the ancient records of the other Semitic\npeoples, which are often too scanty to dogmatise about, safely speak\nof the supremacy of the goddess in any Semitic community, except in\nSidon. All that we find everywhere, except among the Israelites, is a\ngoddess by the side of a god. According to Weber, in his treatise,\n\u201cArabien vor dem Islam,\u201d[85.1] the aboriginal god of all the Semites\nwhen they were in the nomadic condition was the moon-god; and the male\ndivinity is nowhere found to be displaced. He is prominent among the\npolytheistic Arabs under the name Athtar.[85.2] Some of the Arab\ndeities in North Arabia are revealed to us in an inscription dating\nprobably from the fifth century B.C., which mentions the gods Salm,\nSangala, Asira, and of these Salm was evidently a war-god, as he is\nrepresented on a relief with a spear.[85.3]\n\nThe Aramaic inscriptions only reveal the goddess Ishtar by the side of\nmany powerful gods such as Ramman, Adad the god of storms, Shamash the\nsun-god, Reshef the god of lightning and war, Baal-charran the Lord of\nHarran.[85.4] An eighth-century Aramaic inscription found at Sinjerli\nin North Syria, written in the reign of Tiglath-Pileser III., mentions\nno goddess, but regards the kings as under the protection of Hadad,\nElreshef, and Shamash.[85.5] Even in Canaan and Phoenicia we have no\nreason to say that Astarte rose above Baal; such an epithet as \u201cthe\nFace of Baal\u201d appears to maintain the supremacy of the God. In Moab we\nhave {86} the evidence of the Mesha stone, which mentions the divine\npair Ashtor-Chemosh, and in Numbers[86.1] the Moabites are called the\npeople of Chemosh. But we have Phoenician inscriptions of the period\nof Persian supremacy in which the king of Byblos, Jachumelek, speaks\nof himself as raised to the kingdom by the Baalat, the queen-goddess\nof that state; and he prays to her that the queen may give him favour\nin the eyes of the gods and in the eyes of the people of his\nland.[86.2] Astarte was _par excellence_ the city-goddess of Sidon,\nand on the later Imperial coinage we see her image drawn in a car. Two\nrepresentations of her have been found, in one of which she is seated\nin front of the king,[86.3] the other shows her embracing him.[86.4]\nKing Tabnit of Sidon, whose sarcophagus is in the Museum of\nConstantinople, styles himself \u201cpriest of Astarte, King of the\nSidonians.\u201d[86.5] But in the other Phoenician settlements, such as\nTyre, Cyprus, and Carthage, the memorials of the male divinity,\nwhether Baal, Baal Samin, Baal Ammon, Reshef Mikal, Esmun-Melqart, are\nat least as conspicuous. It is likely that at certain places in the\nMediterranean the Semites were touched by the influences of the\naboriginal Aegean goddess\u2019s cult; this may well have been the case at\nSidon, and still more probably at Askalon, and it may have penetrated\nas far as Bambyke.\n\nSpeaking generally, however, we may conclude that among the early\nSemites the male divinity was dominant. And if we could believe that\nthis is a reflection in their theology of the patriarchal system in\nsociety, let us observe that the earliest Babylonian {87} evidence\nproves that the patriarchal type of family was dominant in Babylonia\nin the third millennium.\n\nPassing over to the non-Semitic group of Anatolian cults, and\nconsidering first the Hittite, we have ample evidence in the great\nrelief of Boghaz-Keui of the importance of the goddess; and it may\nwell be, as Dr. Frazer has conjectured, that that monument, on which\nwe see the great god borne on the shoulders of his worshippers to meet\nthe goddess on the lion, gives us the scene of a Holy marriage.[87.1]\nWe find the male and female divinity united in a common worship on a\nrelief found near Caesarea in the middle of Cappadocia, on the left\nside of which is depicted a warrior-god standing before a\npillar-shaped altar, while a man in the guise of a warrior is pouring\na libation before him; on the right is a similar scene, making\nlibation before a seated goddess, on whose altar a bird is\nseated.[87.2] Besides this, we have another type of goddess shown us\non a Hittite votive-relief, on which is carved a large seated female\nfigure with a child on her knees; we may surely interpret this as a\n\u03b8\u03b5\u1f70 \u03ba\u03bf\u03c5\u03c1\u03bf\u03c4\u03c1\u03cc\u03c6\u03bf\u03c2.[87.3] Again, on two of the reliefs at Euzuk we find\na seated goddess holding a goblet and approached with prayers,\nlibations, and other offerings by priest and priestess,[87.4] and we\nmay venture to add to this list of Hittite types the mysterious veiled\ngoddess found by Von Oppenheim at Tel-Halaf in Mesopotamia on the\nChabur, a branch of Euphrates, with an inscription containing the name\nAsshur, a work which, on the evidence of other cuneiform inscriptions\nfound on the site, he would date near to {88} 900 B.C.[88.1] But this\nevidence in no way amounts to any proof or affords any suggestion of\nthe predominance of the goddess--and the Tel-El-Amarna correspondence\nof the Hittite kings implies that the male and female divinity were\nlinked in an equal union in the Hittite religion. The text of the\ntreaty between Rameses II. and the Kheta (_circ._ 1290 B.C.) includes\nvarious sun-gods, Sutekh, the Egyptian name for the Hittite war-god,\nand Antheret (possibly a form of the name Astoret), and other\ngoddesses called \u201cthe Queen of Heaven, the Mistress of the Soil, the\nMistress of Mountains.\u201d[88.2] Can we draw any conclusions from that\nextraordinary monument from Fassirlir[88.3] on the borders of\nLycaonia and Pisidia, representing a young god in a high cap that\nsuggests Hittite fashion, standing on the neck of a stooping goddess\nat whose side are two lions? This might seem a na\u00efve indication of\nmale supremacy; but the sex of the supporting figure does not seem\nclear.[88.4]\n\nComing now to the Asia-Minor shore, where in the first millennium B.C.\nthe Hellenic colonisation and culture flourished, we find the traces\nof a great goddess-cult discoverable on every important site; though\nrecorded only by later writers, as a rule, and interpreted to us by\nthe later Greek names, such as Artemis, Leto, Aphrodite, more rarely\nAthena, we can still discern clearly that she belongs to a\npre-Hellenic stock. The evidence of this can be gathered from many\nsources, and it is unnecessary {89} to detail it here. What is more\nimportant, and not so easy, is to detect clear proof of the\npredominance of the goddess over the god, a phenomenon that has not\nyet presented itself clearly in the Semitic communities, except at\nSidon and perhaps Byblos. We find goddess-cult in Cilicia, where\n\u201cArtemis Sarpedonia\u201d is a name that trails with it Minoan\nassociations;[89.1] but, as Dr. Frazer has pointed out,[89.2] at\nleast at Tarsos and Olba it appears that the male deity was the\ndominant power. At the former city a long series of coins attests the\nsupremacy of Baal-Tars and Sandon-Herakles. At Olba the ruling\npriesthood were called the \u03a4\u03b5\u03c5\u03ba\u03c1\u03af\u03b4\u03b1\u03b9, and claim descent from Teukros\nand Aias, but Greek inscriptions giving such names as \u201cTeukros\u201d the\npriest, son of Tarkuaris, support the view that Teukros is a\nHellenisation of the divine Hittite name Tarku. It is in Lycia where\nwe ought, in accordance with a popular theory, to find the clearest\nproof of goddess-supremacy; for we know that the Lycians had the\nmatrilinear family system, and this was supposed by Robertson Smith to\nlead logically to that religious product.[89.3] And recently we have\nheard Professor Wilamowitz[89.4] brilliantly expound the theory that\nLeto was the aboriginal mother-goddess of Lycia, called there in the\nLycian tongue \u201cLada,\u201d and worshipped as supreme with her son Apollo,\nboth of whom the Hellenes found there, and while they transformed Lada\n\u201cthe Lady-goddess\u201d into Leto, surnamed Apollo \u039b\u03b7\u03c4\u03bf\u03af\u03b4\u03b7\u03c2, in obedience\nto the Lycian rule of calling a son after his mother. And where a son\nis worshipped merely as the son of his {90} mother, we may regard the\nmother-goddess as supreme. The theory about Apollo\u2019s Lycian origin,\nwhich, I think, contradicts all the important facts, does not concern\nus here. It is his view that Leto is the aboriginal and paramount\ndivinity of Lycia which we would wish to test. So far as it rests on\nthe equation between Leto and Lada, its philology is bad; for, as Dr.\nCowley has pointed out on the evidence of Lycian-Greek transcribed\nnames, the Greeks would not have transcribed Lada as Leto.\nFurthermore, the geography of the Leto-cult gives no _vraisemblance_\nto the theory of its Lycian origin; neither have we any proof at all\nof the cult of any goddess in Lycia at an early period, though no\ndoubt it existed; the coin of Myra, showing a goddess emerging from\nthe split trunk of a tree,[90.1] is of the Imperial period, but\npreserves an ancient legend and an archaic idol-type. But the earliest\nfact of Lycian religion recorded is the predominance of Apollo, and\nthe Lycians maintained him as their chief divinity throughout their\nhistory and long after the very early influences of Hellenic\ncolonisation had waned. The inscriptions of Lycia that mention Leto\nare all of the later period; her temple near Xanthos and her two holy\ngroves on the coast that Strabo mentions[90.2] are just on the track\nalong which the earliest Hellenic influence travelled: and the most\ntenable view is that the Hellenes introduced her. In Caria, at\nLabranda, and again in the vicinity of Stratonikeia, we have proof of\nthe early supremacy of a great god whom the Hellenes called Zeus,\nattaching to him in the latter centre of cult the Carian name of\nPanamaros, and associating him with a native goddess called Hera or\n{91} Hekate, who did not claim to be the predominant partner.[91.1]\n\nIt is not till we come to the neighbourhood of Ephesos that we can\nspeak positively of goddess-supremacy. Artemis, as the Greeks called\nher here, is admittedly \u03c0\u03c1\u03c9\u03c4\u03bf\u03b8\u03c1\u03bf\u03bd\u03af\u03b1, the first in power and in place.\nHer brother Apollo himself served as the \u03c3\u03c4\u03b5\u03c6\u03b1\u03bd\u03b7\u03c6\u03cc\u03c1\u03bf\u03c2 of the Artemis\nof Magnesia, that is, as her officiating magistrate,[91.2] and\nArtemis of Magnesia we may take to be the same aboriginal goddess as\nthe Ephesian. Certain features of her worship will be considered later\nin a comparative survey of ritual and cult-ideas. I will only indicate\nhere the absence of any proof of the Semitic origins of the Ephesian\nArtemis,[91.3] and the associations that link her with the great\nmother-goddess of Phrygia. When we reach the area within which this\nlatter cult and its cognate forms prevailed, we can posit the\npredominance of the goddess as a salient fact of the popular religion\nimprinting indelible traits upon the religious physiognomy of the\npeople. The god Attis was dear to the aboriginal Phrygian as to the\nlater generations, but he was only the boy-lover, the young son who\ndied and rose again. The great goddess was supreme and eternal; and\nher power spread into Lydia, Cappadocia, Pontus, and Galatia, and far\nand wide in the later period across the sea. {92} Her counterpart in\nCappadocia was M\u0101, the great goddess of Comana, in whose worship we\nhear nothing of the male divinity. In this wide area, governed by the\nreligion of the Great Mother, we can trace a similar ritual and\nsomething of the same religious psychology in the various peoples:\norgiastic liturgy and ecstatic passion, a craving for complete\nidentification with the goddess that led to acts of sexual madness\nsuch as emasculation; also a marked tone of sorrow and tenderness in\nthe legends and religious service. In following back to its\nfountain-head the origins of this cult, we are led inevitably to\nMinoan Crete.\n\nThere are many links revealed both by legend and cult that associate\nCrete with the country adjacent to the Troad, with Lydia and Caria.\nAnd we may tentatively hold to the dogma that Kybele-Rhea, Hipta of\nLydia, who appears now as a virgin, now as a mother-goddess, M\u0101 who\nappears in Caria, but whose chief historic centre was Comana of\nCappadocia, were all descended from or specialised forms of an\naboriginal Aegean or Anatolian goddess whose cult was also maintained\nby the Hittites. Of her nature and ritual I may speak later. I am only\nconcerned here with the correctness of the view put forward by Sir\nArthur Evans.[92.1] \u201cIt is probable that in the Mycenaean religion as\nin the later Phrygian, the female aspect of divinity predominated,\nfitting on, as it seems to have, down to the matriarchal system. The\nmale divinity is not so much the consort as the son or the youthful\nfavourite.\u201d If we put aside the suggestion of a matriarchal theory\nhere, the main idea in this judgment accords generally with the\nevidence that the author of it has himself done most to accumulate and\nto present to us. It is {93} not insignificant that the earliest type\nof Aegean idol in existence is that of a goddess, not a god; and in\nthe more developed Minoan period the representations of the goddess\nare more frequent and more imposing than those of the god; while in\nthe few scenes of cult where the male deity appears in her company, he\nappears in a subordinate position, either in a corner of the field or\nstanding before her throne.[93.1] And a strong current of early Greek\nlegend induces us to believe that when the earliest Hellenes reached\nCrete they found a powerful goddess-cult overshadowing the island,\nassociated with the figure of a young or infant god: hence spread the\nCretan worship of Rhea and the \u039c\u03ae\u03c4\u03b7\u03c1 \u03c4\u1ff6\u03bd \u03b8\u03b5\u1ff6\u03bd, and hence there came to\na few places on the Hellenic mainland, where Minoan influence was\nstrong, the cult and the cult-legend of the infant Zeus.[93.2] Yet we\nmust not strain the evidence too far; besides the youthful or infant\nCretan god, there may have been the powerful cult of a father-god as\nwell. On three monuments we catch a glimpse of the armed deity of the\nsky.[93.3] What is more important is the prominence of the\ndouble-headed axe in the service of the Minoan palace; and this must\nbe a fetichistic emblem mystically associated with the thunder-god,\nthough occasionally the goddess might borrow it. The prominence and\ngreat vogue of this religious emblem detracts somewhat from the weight\nof the evidence as pointing to the supremacy of the female divine\npartner. It is Zeus, not Rhea, that inspired Minos, as Jahw\u00e9 inspired\nMoses, and Shamash Hammurabbi. Yet the view is probably right on the\nwhole that the mother-goddess was a more frequent figure in {94} the\nMinoan service, and was nearer and dearer to the people.\n\nMay we also regard her as the prototype of all the leading Hellenic\ngoddesses? The consideration of this question will bring this\nparticular line of inquiry to a close.\n\nIf we find goddess-supremacy among the early Hellenes, shall we\ninterpret it as an Aryan-Hellenic tradition, or as an alien and\nborrowed trait in their composite religion? If borrowed, are they more\nlikely to have derived it from the East or from their immediate\npredecessors in the regions of Aegean culture? The latter question, if\nit arises, we ought to be able to answer at last.\n\nWe might guard ourselves at the outset against the uncritical dogma\nwhich has been proclaimed at times that the goddesses in the various\nAryan polytheisms were all alien, and borrowed from the pre-Aryan\npeoples in whose lands they settled. Any careful study of the Vedic\nand old-Germanic, Phrygo-Thracian religions can refute this wild\nstatement: the wide prevalence in Europe of the worship of \u201cMother\nEarth,\u201d which Professor Dieterich\u2019s treatise establishes,[94.1] is\nsufficient evidence in itself. Nor could we believe that the early\nAryans were unmoved by an anthropomorphic law of the religious\nimagination that is almost universally operative. The Hellenic Aryans,\nthen, must be supposed to have brought certain of their own goddesses\ninto Greece, and perhaps philology will be able one day to tell us who\nexactly they were. On linguistic and other grounds, Dione and Demeter\nmay be accepted as provedly old Hellenic: on the same grounds,\nprobably, Hera; also the name and cult of Hestia is certainly\n\u201cAryan,\u201d[94.2] only we {95} dare not call her in the earliest, and\nscarcely at any period, a true personal goddess. Now, there is a\nfurther important induction that we may confidently make: at the\nperiod when the Aryan conquerors were pushing their way into Aegean\nlands and the Indo-Iranians into the Punjaub and Mesopotamia, they had\na religious bias making for the supremacy of the Father-God and\nagainst the supremacy of the goddess. We can detect the same instinct\nalso in the old Germanic pantheon.[95.1] Its operation is most\nvisible when the Thrako-Phrygian stock, and their cousins the\nBithynian, broke into the north of Asia Minor, and the regions on the\nsouth of the Black Sea. The god-cult they bring with them clashes with\nthe aboriginal and--as it proved--invincible supremacy of the goddess\nlinked to her divine boy: we hear of such strange cult-products as\nAttis-\u03a0\u03b1\u03c0\u03b1\u1fd6\u03bf\u03c2, Father Attis, and one of the old Aryan titles of the\nHigh God appears in the Phrygian Zeus \u0392\u03b1\u03b3\u03b1\u1fd6\u03bf\u03c2, Bagha in old Persian\nand Bog in Slavonic meaning deity. The Aryan hero-ancestor of the\nPhrygian stock, Manes, whom Sir William Ramsay believes to be\nidentical with the god Men, becomes the father of Atys;[95.2] also we\nhave later proof of the powerful cult of Zeus the Thunderer, Zeus the\nLeader of Hosts, in this region of the southern shore of the Black\nSea. Another induction that I venture, perhaps incautiously, to make,\nis that in no Aryan polytheism is there to be found the worship of an\nisolated or virgin-goddess, keeping apart from relations with the male\n{96} deity: the goddesses in India, Germany, Ireland, Gaul,[96.1]\nThrace, and Phrygia are usually associated temporarily or permanently\nwith the male divinity, and are popularly regarded as maternal, if not\nas wedded. Trusting to the guidance of these two inductions, and\nalways conscious of the lacunae in our records, we may draw this\nimportant conclusion concerning the earliest religious history of\nHellas: namely, that where we find the powerful cult of an isolated\ngoddess, she belongs to the pre-Hellenic population. The axiom applies\nat once and most forcibly to Artemis and Athena; the one dominant in\ncertain parts of Arcadia and Attica, the other the exclusive deity of\nthe Attic Acropolis. Their virginal character was probably a later\nidea arising from their isolation, their aversion to cult-partnership\nwith the male deity.[96.2] The Aryan Hellenes were able to plant\ntheir Zeus and Poseidon on the high hill of Athens, but not to\noverthrow the supremacy of Athena in the central shrine and in the\naboriginal soul of the Athenian people. As regards Hera, the question\nis more difficult: the excavations at the Heraeum have been supposed\nby Dr. Waldstein to prove the worship of a great goddess on that site,\ngoing back in time to the third millennium B.C.,[96.3] a period\nanterior to the advent of the god-worshipping Aryan Hellenes. And this\ngoddess remained {97} dominant through all history at Argos and Samos.\nBut we have no reason for supposing that her name was Hera in that\nearliest period. Phonetically, the word is best explained as \u201cAryan\u201d:\nif it was originally the name brought by the Hellenes and designating\nthe wife-goddess of the sky-god--and in spite of recent theories that\ncontradict it I still incline to this view--the Hellenes could apply\nit to the great goddess of the Argolid, unless her aversion to\nmatrimony was a dogma, or her religious isolation a privilege, too\nstrong to infringe. This does not seem to have been the case. The\ngoddess of Samian cult, a twin-institution with the Argive, was no\nvirgin, but united with the sky-god in an old \u1f31\u03b5\u03c1\u1f78\u03c2 \u03b3\u03ac\u03bc\u03bf\u03c2.\nNevertheless, throughout all history the goddess in Argos, and\nprobably in Samos, is a more powerful cult-figure than the god.\n\nAs regards Aphrodite, few students of Greek religion would now assign\nher to the original Aryan-Hellenic polytheism. Most still regard her\nas coming to the Greek people from the Semitic area of the Astarte\ncult. And this was the view that I formerly developed in the second\nvolume of my _Cults_. But at that time we were all ignorant of the\nfacts of Minoan-Mycenaean religion, and some of us were deceived\nconcerning the antiquity of the Phoenician settlements in Cyprus and\nHellas. The recently discovered evidence points, I think, inevitably\nto the theory that Sir Arthur Evans supports; that the goddess of\nCyprus, the island where the old Minoan culture lived longest, is one\nform of the great goddess of that gifted Aegean people, who had\ndeveloped her into various manifestations through long centuries of\nundisturbed religious life. Let us finally observe that it is just\nthese names, Artemis, Athena, Aphrodite, that have hitherto defied\nlinguistic {98} explanation on either Aryan or Semitic phonetic\nprinciples. We do not yet know the language of King Minos.\n\nA cursory and dogmatic answer may now be given to the two questions\nposed above. The Aryan Hellenes did not bring with them the supremacy\nof the goddess, for the idea was not natural to them: they did not\nborrow it from any Semitic people in the second millennium, for at\nthat time it was not natural to the Semites: they found it on the soil\nof the Aegean lands, as a native growth of an old Mediterranean\nreligion, a strong plant that may be buried under the deposits of\nalien creeds, but is always forcing its head up to the light again.\n\nTherefore in tracing goddess-cult from the Euphrates valley to the\nwestern Aegean shores, as a test of the influence of the East on the\nWest, we are brought up sharply at this point. The Western world is\ndivided from the Eastern by this very phenomenon that the older\nscholars used to regard as proving a connection. And it may well have\nbeen the Western cult that influenced the western Semites.\n\n\n\n\n CHAPTER VI.\n The Deities as Nature-Powers.\n\n{99}\n\nSo far as we have gone our main question must be still regarded as\nan open one. We may now compare the particular conceptions concerning\ndivinity that prevailed at the period to which our search is limited,\nin the valley of the Euphrates, and in the other communities that are\nin our route of comparison. Many striking points of general similarity\nwill present themselves, upon which we must not lay too much weight\nfor our argument, since all polytheisms possess a certain family\nlikeness: of more importance will be certain strikingly dissimilar\nfeatures, if we find any.\n\nFirst, in regard to the general concepts or characters of the\ndivinities, the same formula seems mainly applicable to the\nMesopotamian as to the Hellenic facts: the leading divinities have\nusually some distinct association with the world of nature; but the\nnatural phenomenon or elemental fact that may be there in the\nbackground of their personality, becomes overlaid and obscured by the\ncomplex ethical and mental traits that are evolved. Therefore the mere\nnature-fact rarely explains the fully-developed god, either of Babylon\nor of Hellas. A few salient examples will make this clear. It is only\nperhaps Shamash the sun-god of Sippar, and Sin the moon-god of Ur,\nthat retain their nature-significance rarely obscured. The hymn to Sin\nin Dr. Langdon\u2019s {100} collection reveals an intelligible lunar\nimagery throughout; but in another published by Zimmern,[100.1] his\npersonality becomes more spiritual and mystical; he is at once \u201cthe\nmother-body who bears all life, and the pitiful gracious father,\u201d the\ndivinity who has created the land and founded temples; under the\nAssyrian r\u00e9gime he seems to have become a god of war.[100.2] Shamash\neven surpasses him in grandeur and religious value, so far as we can\njudge from the documents; but his whole ethical and spiritual\ncharacter, clearly articulated as it is, can be logically evolved from\nhis solar. But in studying the characters of Marduk and Nergal, for\ninstance, we feel that the physical theories of their origin help us\nbut little, and are at times self-contradictory; and it might be well\nfor Assyriologists to take note of the confusion and darkness that\nsimilar theories have spread in this domain of Hellenic study. Thus we\nare told that the Sun in the old Sumerian-Babylonian system gave birth\nto various special personalities, representing various aspects of him:\nMarduk is the spring-sun, rejoicing in his strength, although his\nconnection with Shamash does not seem specially close; yet Jeremias,\nwho expresses this opinion,[100.3] believes also that Marduk is a\nstorm-god, because \u201chis word can shake the sea.\u201d Shall we say, then,\nthat Jahw\u00e9 is a storm-god \u201cbecause the voice of the Lord shaketh the\ncedar-trees\u201d? The phrase is quite innocent if we only mean by it that\nany and every personal God could send a storm; it becomes of doubtful\nvalue if it signifies here that Marduk is an impersonation of the\nstorm. The texts seem sometimes to contradict each other; Ninib, for\ninstance, {101} is regarded by Jeremias[101.1] as the rising sun, on\nthe ground of certain phrases in his hymn of praise; but the concept\nof him as a storm-god is more salient in the oldest texts, and thus he\nis pre-eminently a deity of destruction and death, and becomes\nspecially an Assyrian war-god. Does it help us if we imagine him\noriginally as the Storm-Sun, as Jensen would have us? or is it not\nallowable to suspect that solar terms of religious description became\na later Babylonian convention, and that any deity might attract them?\nNergal, again, the god of Kutha, has been supposed to have had a solar\norigin, as the god of the midday and destructive sun;[101.2] yet his\nspecial realm is Hades, where he ruled by the side of the goddess\nAllatu, and his name is doubtfully interpreted as the Lord of the\nGreat Habitation, and thus he is regarded as a god of disease and\ndeath. This did not hinder him from becoming with Ninib the great\nwar-god of the Assyrians and their god of the chase, nor a pious\nBabylonian poet from exalting him as \u201cGod of the little ones, he of\nthe benevolent visage.\u201d[101.3] In one of the Tel-El-Amarna texts he\nis designated by an ideogram, that almost certainly means \u201cthe god of\niron.\u201d[101.4] This last fact, if correct, is an illustration of that\nwhich a general survey of the Babylonian texts at last impresses upon\nus: the physical origin of the deity, if he had one, does not often\nshape and control his whole career; the high god grows into manifold\nforms, dilates into a varied spiritual personality, progresses with\nthe life of his people, reflects new aspects of life, altogether\nindependently of any physical idea of him that may have originally\nprevailed. Adad, the {102} god of storms, becomes a god of prophecy,\nand is addressed as a god of mercy in the fragment of a hymn.[102.1]\nEa the god of waters becomes _par excellence_ the god of wisdom, not\nbecause waters are wise, but probably because Eridu, the seat of his\ncult, was an immemorial home of ancient wisdom, that is to say, magic.\nAs for the great Nebo of Borsippa, Jeremias,[102.2] who is otherwise\ndevoted to solar theories, has some good remarks on the absence of any\nsign of his nature-origin: his ideogram designates \u201cthe prophet,\u201d in\nhis earliest character he is the writer, his symbol is the \u201cstilus\u201d of\nthe scribe. Yet he does not confine himself to writing: he is\ninterested in vegetation, and eulogised in one hymn as \u201che who openeth\nthe springs and causeth the corn to sprout, he without whom the dykes\nand canals would run dry.\u201d Surely this interest comes to him, not from\nthe planet Mercury,[102.3] but from his wisdom and his concern with\nBabylonian civilisation, which depended upon dykes and canals. We are\npresented here with a progressive polytheism, that is, one of which\nthe divinities show the power of self-development parallel with the\nself-development of the people.\n\nThe question we have just been considering, the physical character of\nthe Babylonian deities in relation to their whole personality,\nsuggests two last reflections. Their gods have a certain relation to\nthe planets, which is preserved even in our modern astronomy. That the\nearly Sumerians worshipped stars is probable,[102.4] as the Sumerian\nsign for divinity is a star; but that the Sumerian-Babylonian high\ngods were personal forms of the planets, is denied by leading modern\nAssyriologists,[103.1] {103} except in the case of the sun and the\nmoon, Shamash and Sin. It was only the Chaldaean astronomic theory\nthat came to regard the various planets in their varying positions as\nspecial manifestations of the powers of the different personal gods;\nand the same planet might be a manifestation, according to its\ndifferent positions, of different gods: the \u201cstar Jupiter at one point\nis Marduk, at another point Nebo\u201d; this dogma is found on a\nseventh-century tablet, which declares at the same time that \u201cMercury\u201d\nis Nebo.[103.2] This planetary association of the deities is well\nillustrated by the memorial relief of Asarhaddon found at Sinjerli,\nand the relief of Maltaija, showing stars crowning their\nheads;[103.3] but both these are later than the period with which we\nare here immediately concerned.\n\nLastly, we fail to observe in that domain of the old Babylonian\nreligion which may be called nature-worship, any clear worship of the\nearth regarded as a personal and living being, as the Hellenes\nregarded Gaia. The great goddesses, Ishtar, the goddess at once\nwarlike and luxurious, virgin and yet unchaste, terrible and merciful,\nthe bright virgin of the sky, Bau, the wife of Ninib, the \u201camorous\nlady of heaven,\u201d are certainly not of this character. Still less is\nAllatu, the monstrous and grim Queen of Hell, at whose breast the\nlions are suckled. It seems that if the early Sumerians conceived the\nearth as a personal divinity at all, they imagined it as a male\ndivinity. For in the inscriptions of Nippur, Enlil or Bel appears as a\nLord of the underworld, {104} meaning our earth as distinct from the\nheavens: he is hymned as the \u201clord of the harvest-lands, lord of the\ngrain-fields\u201d[104.1]--he is the \u201chusbandman who tends the fields\u201d;\nwhen Enlil is angry, \u201che sends hunger everywhere.\u201d In another hymn he\nis thus described: \u201cThe great Earth-Mountain is Enlil, the\nmountain-storm is he, whose shoulders rival the heavens, whose\nfoundation is the bright abyss\u201d;[104.2] and again, \u201cLord, who makest\nto abound pure oil and nourishing milk;\u2026 in the earth Lord of life art\nthou\u201d; \u201cto give life to the ground thou dost exist.\u201d[104.3] It is\nevident that Enlil is more than the personal earth regarded as a solid\nsubstance; he is rather the god of all the forces and life that move\non and in the earth, hence he is \u201cthe lord of winds.\u201d[104.4] He is\nmore, then, than the mere equivalent of Gaia. One might have expected\nto find a Sumerian counterpart for this goddess in Ninlil or Belit,\nthe wife and female double of Enlil or Bel: but in an inscription that\nis dated as early as 4000 B.C. she is styled \u201cThe Queen of Heaven and\nEarth,\u201d[104.5] and though in a hymn of lamentation addressed to\nher[104.6] she is described as the goddess \u201cwho causeth plants to\ncome forth,\u201d yet the ecstatic and mysticising Babylonian imagination\nhas veiled and clouded her nature-aspect.\n\nThis strange religious poetry which had been fermenting for thousands\nof years, was likely enough to transform past recognition the simple\naboriginal fact. It is only the lesser deities, the \u201cSonderg\u00f6tter\u201d of\nthe Sumerian pantheon, whose nature-functions might remain clear and\nunchanged: for instance, such a corn-deity as we see on a cylinder,\nwith corn-ears in {105} his hand and corn-stalks springing from his\nshoulders.[105.1] Even the simple form of Tammuz, the darling of the\nSumerian people, has been somewhat blurred by the poetry of passion\nthat for long ages was woven about him. As Zimmern has shown in a\nrecent treatise,[105.2] he was never the chief deity of any\nBabylonian or Assyrian state, but nevertheless one of great antiquity\nand power with the Sumerian people, and his cult and story were\ndoubtless spreading westward in the second millennium. In spite of all\naccretions and the obscurity of his name, which is interpreted to mean\n\u201creal son of the water-deep,\u201d[105.3] we can still recognise the form\nof the young god of vegetation who dies in the heat of the summer\nsolstice and descends to the world below, leaving the earth barren\ntill he returns. This idea is expressed by some of his names, \u201cthe\nLord of the land\u2019s fruitfulness, the Lord of the shepherd\u2019s dwelling,\nthe Lord of the cattle-stall, the God of grain,\u201d[105.4] and by many\nan allusion to his legend in the hymns, which are the most beautiful\nand pathetic in the old Sumerian psalmody: \u201cin his manhood in the\nsubmerged grain he lay\u201d; \u201chow long still shall the verdure be\nimprisoned, how long shall the green things be held in\nbondage?\u201d[105.5] An interesting title found in some of the\nincantation liturgies is that of \u201cthe shepherd,\u201d and like some other\nvegetation-powers he is at times regarded as the Healer. Though he was\nnot admitted {106} as the compeer of the high gods into the Babylonian\nor Assyrian pantheon, he may be said to have survived them all, and\nhis name and myth became the inspiration of a great popular religion.\nNo other of that vast fraternity of corn-spirits or vegetation-spirits\ninto which Dr. Frazer has initiated us, has ever had such a career as\nTammuz. In one of his hymns he is invoked as \u201cLord of the world of\nDeath,\u201d because for a time he descended into Hell.[106.1] If this\nidea had been allowed to germinate and to develop its full\npotentiality, it might have changed the aspect of Babylonian\neschatology. But, as we shall see, the ideas naturally attaching to\nvegetation, to the kindly and fair life of seeds and plants, were\nnever in Babylonia properly harmonised with those that dominated\nbelief concerning the lower world of the dead. The study of the\nTammuz-rites I shall reserve for a later occasion.\n\nWe have now to consider the other Anatolian cults from the point of\nview of nature-worship. The survey need not detain us long as our\nevidence is less copious. As regards the western Semites, our\ntrustworthy records are in no way so ancient as those that enlighten\nus concerning Mesopotamia. Philo of Byblos, the interpreter of the\nPhoenician Sanchuniathon, presents us only with a late picture of the\nCanaanite religion, that may be marred by their own symbolic\ninterpretations. Because we are told[106.2] that \u201cthe Phoenicians and\nEgyptians were the first to worship the sun and the moon and the\nstars,\u201d[106.2] or \u201cthe first to deify the growths of the\nearth,\u201d[106.3] we cannot conclude that in the second millennium the\nreligion of the Phoenicians was purely solar or astral, or merely the\ncult of vegetation-gods. {107} \u201cBaalshamin\u201d means the lord of the\nheavens, an Aramaic and Phoenician god, and Sanchuniathon explained\nhim as the sun;[107.1] but Robertson Smith gives good reason for the\nview that the earliest conception of the local Baal was of a deity of\nthe fertilising spring, a local divine owner of a well-watered plot,\nhence the giver of all life to fruits and cattle.[107.2] Nor are we\nsure what was the leading \u201cnature-aspect\u201d of the cult of Astarte. The\ntitle \u201cMeleket Ashamaim,\u201d \u201cthe Queen of the Heavens,\u201d which Ezekiel\nattaches to her, does not inform us precisely concerning her earliest\nand original character. From her close association with the Minoan\ngoddess of Cyprus, she was no doubt worshipped as the source of the\nlife of plants and animals and men. Also, it is of some value to bear\nin mind the later records concerning the worship of Helios at Tyre in\nthe Roman Imperial period, and of Helios and the thunder-god at\nPalmyra, where Adad-Rimmon, the storm-god who was in power among the\nwestern Semites in the earliest period, may have survived till the\nbeginning of Christianity. We may conclude from all this that in the\noldest period of the western Semite societies the cult of special\nnature-deities was a prominent feature of the religion. But even these\nmay already in the second millennium have acquired a complex of\npersonal attributes ethical and spiritual. In the later Carthaginian\nreligion, the personal deities are clearly distinguished from the mere\nnature-powers, such as the sun, earth, and moon; and this important\ndistinction may have arisen long before the date of the document that\nproves it.[107.3]\n\n{108}\n\nOf the Hittite gods we may say this much at least, that the monuments\nenable us to recognise the thunder-god with the hammer or axe, and in\nthe striking relief at Ibreez we discern the form of the god of\nvegetation and crops, holding corn and grapes. The winged disk, carved\nwith other doubtful fetich-emblems above the head of the god who is\nclasping the priest or king on the Boghaz-Keui relief, is a solar\nemblem, borrowed probably from Egyptian religious art. And the Hittite\nsun-god was invoked in the Hittite treaty with Rameses II.[108.1]\nWhether the mother-goddess was conceived as the personal form of Gaia\nis doubtful; her clear affinity with Kybele would suggest this, and in\nthe Hittite treaty with Rameses II. mentioned above, the goddess\nTesker is called the Mistress of the Mountains, the express title of\nthe Phrygian Mother, and another \u201cthe Mistress of the Soil.\u201d[108.2]\nYet evidently the Hittite religion is too complex to be regarded as\nmere nature-worship: the great relief of Boghaz-Keui shows a solemn\nand elaborate ritual to which doubtless some spiritual concepts were\nattached.\n\nAs regards the original ideas underlying the cults of those other\nAnatolian peoples who were nearer in geographical position and perhaps\nin race to the Aegean peoples, we have no explicit ancient records\nthat help us to decide for the second millennium. For some of these\nvarious communities the goddess was, as we have seen, the supreme\npower. The great Phrygian goddess Kybele is the cult-figure of most\nimportance for our purpose, and it is possible to divine her original\ncharacter with fair certainty.[108.3] In her attributes, functions,\nand form, we can discern nothing celestial, {109} solar or lunar; she\nwas, and remained to the end, a mother-goddess of the earth, a\npersonal source of and life of fruits, beasts, and man: her favourite\nhaunt was the mountains, and her earliest image that we know, that\nwhich the Greeks called Niobe on Mount Sipylos, seems like a human\nshape emerging from the mountain-side: she loved also the mountain\ncaverns, which were called after her \u03ba\u03cd\u03b2\u03b5\u03bb\u03b1; and according to one\nlegend she emerged from the rock Agdos, and hence took the name\nAgdestis. The myth of her beloved Attis is clear ritual-legend\nassociated with vegetation; and Greek poetry and Greek cult definitely\nlinked her with the Greek Gaia. We gather also from the legend of\nAttis and other facts that her power descended to the underworld, and\nthe spirits of the dead were gathered to her;[109.1] hence the snake\nappears as her symbol, carved as an akroterion above her sepulchral\nshrine, where she is sculptured with her two lions at Arslan\nKaya--\u201cthe Lion Rock in Phrygia\u201d;[109.2] and her counterpart, the\nLydian Mother Hipta, is addressed as \u03c7\u03b8\u03bf\u03bd\u03af\u03b7.[109.3]\n\nIn all her aspect and functions she is the double of the great Minoan\nmother-goddess described already, whose familiar animals are the lion\nand the serpent, who claims worship from the mountain-top, and whose\ncharacter is wholly that of a great earth goddess with power doubtless\nreaching down to the lower world of the dead. Only from Crete we have\nevidence which is lacking in pre-Aryan Phrygia of the presence of a\nthunder or sky-god by her side.[109.4]\n\n{110}\n\nTurning our attention now to the early Hellenic world, and to that\npart of its religion which we may call Nature-worship, we discern\ncertain general traits that place it on the same plane in some\nrespects with the Mesopotamian. Certain of the higher deities show\ntheir power in certain elemental spheres, Poseidon mainly in the\nwater, Demeter in the land, Zeus in the air. But of none of these is\nthe power wholly limited to that element: and each has acquired, like\nthe high gods of Assyria and Babylon and Jahw\u00e9 of Israel, a complex\nanthropomorphic character that cannot be derived, though the old\ngeneration of scholars wearily attempted to derive it, from the\nelemental nature-phenomenon. Again, other leading divinities, such as\nApollo, Artemis, Athena, are already in the pre-Homeric period, as far\nas we can discern, pure real personalities like Nebo and Asshur,\nhaving no discoverable nature-significance at all. Besides these\nhigher cults, we discern a vast number of popular local cults of\nwinds, springs, rivers, at first animistically and then\nanthropomorphically imagined. So in Mesopotamia we find direct worship\nof canals and the river. Finally, we discern in early Hellas a\nmultitude of special \u201cfunctional\u201d divinities or heroes,\n\u201cSonderg\u00f6tter,\u201d like Eunostos, the hero of the harvest: and it may be\npossible to find their counterparts in the valley of the\nEuphrates.[110.1] We have also the nameless groups of divine\npotencies in Hellas, such as the \u03a0\u03c1\u03b1\u03be\u03b9\u03b4\u03af\u03ba\u03b1\u03b9, \u039c\u03b5\u03b9\u03bb\u03af\u03c7\u03b9\u03bf\u03b9, these being\nmore frequent in the Hellenic than in the Mesopotamian religion, which\npresents such parallels as the Annunaki and the Igigi, nameless\ndaimones of the lower and upper world: and {111} these in both regions\nmay be regarded as products of animism not yet developed into theism.\n\nBut such general traits of resemblance in two developed polytheisms\ndeceive no trained inquirer; and it would be childish to base a theory\nof borrowing on them. What is far more important are the marked\ndifferences in the nature-side of the Greek polytheism, as compared\nwith the Sumerian-Babylonian. In the latter, the solar-element was\nvery strong, though perhaps not so omnipresent as some Assyriologists\nassure us. On the contrary, in the proto-Hellenic system it was\nstrikingly weak, so far as we can interpret the evidence. The earliest\nHellenes certainly regarded the Sun as a personal animate being,\nthough the word Helios did not necessarily connote for them an\nanthropomorphic god. But the insignificance of his figure in the\nHomeric poems agrees well with the facts of actual cult. As I have\npointed out in the last volume of my _Cults_,[111.1] it was only at\nRhodes that Helios was a great personal god, appealing to the faith\nand affections of the people, revered as their ancestor and the author\nof their civilisation, and descending, we may believe, from the period\nof the Minoan culture[111.2] with which Rhodes was closely associated\nin legend. And it appears from the evidence of legend and Minoan art\nthat sun-worship was of some power in the pre-Hellenic Aegean\ncivilisation. In the Mycenaean epoch he may have had power in Corinth,\nbut his cult faded there in the historic age before that of Athena and\nPoseidon. The developed Hellene preferred the more personal {112}\ndeity, whose name did not so obviously suggest a special phenomenon of\nnature. And if he inherited or adopted certain solar personages, as\nsome think he adopted a sun-god Ares from Thrace, he seems to have\ntransformed them by some mental process so as to obliterate the traces\nof the original nature-perception.\n\nEven more significant for our purpose is the comparison of the two\nregions from the point of view of lunar-cult. We have sufficiently\nnoted already the prominence of the moon-god Sin in the Babylonian\npantheon, an august figure of a great religion: and among all the\nSemitic peoples the moon was a male personality, as it appears to have\nbeen for the Vedic Indians and other Aryan peoples. The Hellenic\nimagination here presents to us this salient difference, that the\npersonal moon is feminine, and she seems to have enjoyed the scantiest\ncult of all the great powers of Nature. Not that anywhere in Greece\nshe was wholly without worship.[112.1] She is mentioned in a vague\nrecord as one of the divinities to whom \u03bd\u03b7\u03c6\u03ac\u03bb\u03b9\u03b1, \u201cwineless offerings,\u201d\nwere consecrated in Athens: she had an ancient place in the aboriginal\nreligion of Arcadia; of her worship in other places the records are\nusually late and insignificant. The great Minoan goddess may have\nattracted to herself some lunar significance, but this aspect of her\nwas not pronounced.\n\nHere, then, is another point at which the theory of early Babylonian\ninfluence in nascent Hellenic religion seriously breaks down. And in\nthis comparison of Nature-cults it breaks down markedly at two others.\nThe pantheon of Mesopotamia had early taken on an astral-character.\nThe primitive Hellenes doubtless had, like other peoples, their\nstar-myths; and their {113} superstitions were aroused and\nsuperstitious practices evoked by celestial \u201cteratology,\u201d by striking\nphenomena, such as eclipses, comets, falling stars.[113.1] But there\nis no record suggesting that they paid direct worship to the stars, or\nthat their deities were astral personations, or were in the early\nperiod associated with the stars: such association, where it arose, is\nmerely a sign of that wave of Oriental influence that moved westward\nin the later centuries. The only clear evidences of star-cult in\nHellenic communities that I have been able to find do not disturb this\ninduction: Lykophron and a late Byzantine author indicate a cult of\nZeus \u1f08\u03c3\u03c4\u03ad\u03c1\u03b9\u03bf\u03c2 in Crete, which cannot, even if real, be interpreted as\ndirect star-worship:[113.2] at Sinope, a city of Assyrian origin,\nnamed after the Babylonian moon-god, a stone with a late inscription\nsuggests a cult of Seirios and the constellations;[113.3] and an\nAttic inscription of the Roman Imperial epoch, mentions a priest of\nthe \u03c6\u03c9\u03c3\u03c6\u03cc\u03c1\u03bf\u03b9, whom we must interpret as stellar beings.[113.4] What,\nthen, must we say about the Dioskouroi, whom we are generally taught\nto regard as the personal forms of the morning- and the evening-star?\nCertainly, if the astral character of the great Twin-Brethren of the\nHellenes were provedly their original one, the general statement just\nput forth would have to be seriously modified. But a careful study of\ntheir cult does not justify the conventional view; and the theory that\nWide has insisted on[113.5] appears to me the only reasonable account\n{114} of them, namely, that originally they were heroic \u201cchthonian\u201d\nfigures, to whom a celestial character came later to be attached: it\nis significant that the astral aspect of them is only presented in\ncomparatively late documents and monuments, not in Homer or the\nHomeric hymn, and that their most ancient ritual includes a\n\u201clectisternium,\u201d which properly belonged to heroes and personages of\nthe lower world.\n\nLastly, the nature-worship of the Hellenes was pre-eminently concerned\nwith Mother-earth--with Ge-meter, and this divine power in its varied\npersonal forms was perhaps of all others the nearest and dearest to\nthe popular heart: so much of their ritual was concerned directly with\nher. And some scholars have supposed, erroneously, I think, but not\nunnaturally, that all the leading Hellenic goddesses arose from this\naboriginal animistic idea. We may at least believe this of Demeter and\nKore, the most winning personalities of the higher Hellenic religion.\nAnd even Athena and Artemis, whatever, if any, was their original\nnature-significance, show in many of their aspects and much of their\nritual a close affinity to the earth-goddess. But, as I have indicated\nabove, it is impossible to find in the early Mesopotamian religion a\nparallel figure to Ge: though Ishtar was naturally possessed of\nvegetative functions--so that, when she disappears below the world,\nall vegetation languishes--yet it would be hazardous to say that she\nwas a personal form of earth: we may rather suspect that by the time\nthe Semites brought her to Mesopotamia from the West, she had lost all\ndirect nature-significance, and was wholly a personal individual.\n\nFinally, the cleavage between the two groups of peoples in their\nattitude towards the powers of nature is still further marked in the\nevolution of certain moral and {115} eschatologic ideas. The concept\nof a Ge-Themis, of Earth as the source of righteousness, and of\nMother-earth as the kindly welcomer of the souls of the dead, appears\nto have been alien to Mesopotamian imagination, for which, Allatu, the\nQueen of the lower world, is a figure wholly terrible.\n\n\n\n\n CHAPTER VII.\n The Deities as Social-Powers.\n\n{116}\n\nThe next important section of our survey is the comparison of the\nsocial and ethical aspects of the religions in the eastern and western\nareas. Here again the former warning may be repeated, not to draw rash\nconclusions from the observance of mere general points of similarity,\nsuch as occur in the religious systems of all the more advanced\nsocieties of which we have any explicit record.\n\nThe idea that religion is merely a concern of the private individual\nconscience is one of the latest phenomena in all religious history.\nBoth for the primitive and the more cultured communities of ancient\nhistory, religion was by a law of its nature a social phenomenon, a\nforce penetrating all the institutions of the political life, law and\nmorality. But its precise contribution to the evolution of certain\nsocial products in the various communities is still a question\ninviting and repaying much research. It will be interesting to compare\nwhat may be gleaned from Assyriology and the study of Hellenism\nbearing on this inquiry, although it may not help us much towards the\nsolution of our main question.\n\nWe may assume of the Mesopotamian as of other peoples, that its\n\u201csocial origins\u201d were partly religious; only in the valley of the\nEuphrates, society had already {117} so far advanced in the fifth\nmillennium B.C. that the study of its origins will be always\nproblematic. The deities are already national, having developed far\nbeyond the narrow tribal limits before we begin to discern them\nclearly; we have not to deal with the divinities of clans, phratries,\nor septs, but of complex aggregates, such as cities and kingdoms. And\nthe great cities are already there before our knowledge begins.\n\nIn the Sumerian myth of creation, it is the high god himself who,\nafter settling the order of heaven and earth, immediately constructs\ncities such as Borsippa; a passage in Berosus speaks of Oannes, that\nis to say, Ea as the founder of cities and temples;[117.1] and the\nmyths may enshrine the truth that the origin of the Mesopotamian city\nwas often religious, that the temple was its nucleus. I cannot\ndiscover that this is indicated by the names of any other of the great\ncities, Babylon, Borsippa, Sippar, Kutha; but it is shown by the name\nof Nineveh and its connection with the Sumerian goddess Nin or Nina,\npossibly a form of Ishtar.[117.2] And in the inscription of Sargon\ngiving the names of the eight doors of his palace, all named after\ndeities, Ninib is described as the god \u201cwho lays the ground-stone of\nthe city for eternity\u201d;[117.3] also we find designations of\nparticular cities, as the city of such-and-such a deity.[117.4]\nFinally, it may be worth noting in this direction that Nusku the\nfire-god, who lights the sacrifices, is called \u201cthe City-Founder, the\nRestorer of Temples.\u201d[117.5]\n\nThe evidence of Anatolia is late, but it tells the same story: Sir\nWilliam Ramsay has emphasised the {118} importance for early political\nhistory of such names as Hieroupolis, the City of the Temple,\ndeveloping into Hierapolis, the Holy City.[118.1] In Hellas the\nevidence is fuller and older of the religious origin of some, at\nleast, of the \u03c0\u03cc\u03bb\u03b5\u03b9\u03c2, for some of the old names reveal the personal\nname or the appellative of the divinity. Such are Athenai (the\nsettlements of Athena); Potniai, \u201cthe place of the revered ones\u201d;\nAlalkomenai, \u201cthe places of Athena Alalkomene\u201d; Nemea, \u201cthe sacred\ngroves of Zeus\u201d; Megara, probably \u201cthe shrines of the goddess of the\nlower world\u201d; Diades, Olympia and others. The reason of such\ndevelopment is not hard to seek: the temple would be the meeting-place\nof many consanguineous tribes, and its sanctuary would safeguard\nintertribal markets, and at the same time demand fortification and\nattract a settlement. Mecca, the holy city of Arabia in days long\nbefore and after Islam, had doubtless this origin.[118.2] We have\ntraces of the same phenomenon in our English names: Preston, for\ninstance, showing the growth of a city out of a monastery. In the\nlater history of Hellenism the religious origin of the \u03c0\u03cc\u03bb\u03b5\u03b9\u03c2 is still\nmore frequently revealed by its name: the god who leads the colonists\nto their new home gives his name to the settlement; hence the very\nnumerous \u201cApolloniai.\u201d\n\nBut though it is not permissible to dogmatise about the origin of the\ngreat cities in the valley of the Euphrates, we have ample material\nsupplied by Babylonian-Assyrian monuments and texts of the close\ninterdependence of Church and State, to illustrate what I remarked\nupon in my inaugural lecture, the political character of the pantheon.\nThis emerges most clearly when we consider {119} the relations of the\nmonarch to the deity. Of all Oriental autocracies, it may be said with\ntruth that the instinctive bias of the people to an autocratic system\nis a religious instinct: the kingship is of the divine type of which\nDr. Frazer has collected the amplest evidence. And this was certainly\nthe type of the most ancient kingship that we can discover in the\nMesopotamian region. The ancient kings of the Isin dynasty dared to\nspeak of themselves as \u201cthe beloved consort of Nana.\u201d[119.1] But more\nusually the king was regarded as the son or fosterling of the\ndivinity, though this dogma need not have been given a literal\ninterpretation, nor did it clash with the well-established proof of a\nsecular paternity. An interesting example is the inscription of\nSamsuilina, the son of Hammurabi, who was reigning perhaps as early as\nthe latter part of the third millennium:[119.2] the king proclaims,\n\u201cI built the wall in Nippur in honour of the goddess Nin, the walls of\nPadda to Adad my helper, the wall of Lagab to Sin the god, my\nbegetter.\u201d The tie of the foster-child was as close as that of actual\nsonship; and Assurbanipal is regarded as the foster-child of the\ngoddess of Nineveh. Nebo himself says to him in that remarkable\nconversation between the god and the king that an inscription has\npreserved,[119.3] \u201cweak wast thou, O Assurbanipal, when thou sattest\non the lap of the divine Queen of Nineveh, and didst drink from her\nfour breasts.\u201d Similarly, the early King Lugalzaggisi declares that he\nwas nourished by the milk of the goddess Ninharsag, and King Gudea\nmentions Nina as his mother.[119.4] In an oracle of encouragement\n{120} given by the goddess Belit to Assurbanipal, she speaks to him\nthus, \u201cThou whom Belit has borne, do not fear.\u201d[120.1]\n\nNow a few isolated texts might be quoted to suggest that this idea of\ndivine parentage was not confined to the kings, but that even the\nprivate Babylonian might at times rise to the conception that he was\nin a sense the child of God. At least in one incantation, in which\nMarduk is commissioned by Ea to heal a sick man, the man is called\n\u201cthe child of his god\u201d;[120.2] and Ishtar is often designated \u201cthe\nMother of Gods and men\u201d and the source of all life on the earth,\nhuman, animal, and vegetative.[120.3] But the incantation points only\nto a vague spiritual belief that might be associated with a general\nidea that all life is originally divine. We may be sure that the\nfeeling of the divine life of the king was a much more real and living\nbelief than was any sense that the individual might occasionally\ncherish of his own celestial origin. The king and the god were\ntogether the joint source of law and order. The greatest of the early\nBabylonian dynasts, Lugalzaggisi, whose reign is dated near to 4000\nB.C., styles himself the vicegerent (Patesi) of Enlil, the earth-god\nof Nippur;[120.4] and in early Babylonian contracts, oath was taken\nin the names both of the god and the king.[120.5] Hammurabi converses\nwith Shamash and receives the great code from his hands, even as Moses\nreceived the law from Jahw\u00e9 or Minos from Zeus. Did any monument ever\nexpress so profoundly the divine origin of the royal authority and the\nState institutions as the famous {121} Shamash relief?[121.1] It is\nthe gods who endow Hammurabi with his various mental qualities: he\nhimself tells us so in his code, \u201cMarduk sent me to rule men and to\nproclaim Righteousness to the world\u201d;[121.2] and he speaks similarly\nof the sun-god Shamash: \u201cAt the command of Shamash, the great Judge of\nHeaven and Earth, shall Righteousness arise up in the land.\u201d[121.3]\nHe proclaims himself, therefore, the political prophet of the Lord;\nand curses with a portentous curse any one who shall venture to\nabolish his enactments. The later Assyrian kings have the same\nreligious confidence: Sargon (B.C. 722-705) proclaims that he owes his\npenetrating genius to Ea, \u201cthe Lord of Wisdom,\u201d and his understanding\nto the \u201cQueen of the crown of heaven.\u201d[121.4] We find them also, the\nAssyrian kings, consulting the sun-god by presenting to him tablets\ninscribed with questions as to their chances of success in a war, or\nthe fitness and loyalty of a minister whom they proposed to\nappoint.[121.5]\n\nAnd this religion affords a unique illustration of the intimacy of the\nbond between the king as head of the State and the divine powers. The\ngods are the rulers of destiny: and in the Hall of Assembly at Esagila\neach year the Council of the Gods under the presidency of Nebo fixed\nthe destiny of the king and the Empire for the ensuing year.[121.6]\nThis award must have signified the writing down of oracles concerning\nthe immediate future, and no doubt the questions were prepared by the\nking and the priests. The good king {122} who was devoted to the\nservice of the gods was glorified by the priesthood in much the same\nterms as are applied in the Old Testament to the king who was devoted\nto the service of Jahw\u00e9: in the cult-inscription of Sippar in the\nBritish Museum,[122.1] Nabupaladdin, who reigned 884-860 B.C., and\nwho re-established the cult of Shamash, is praised by the priest as\n\u201cthe called of Marduk, the darling of Anu and Ea, the man wholly after\nthe heart of Zarpanit.\u201d\n\nThe king, then, is the head of the church, himself a high-priest, as\nGudea was high-priest of Ningirsu, and as the Assyrian kings described\nthemselves as the priests of Asshur, the professional priesthood\nserving as their expert advisers and ministers. Was he actually\nworshipped in his life? This is maintained by some Assyriologists, and\ncertain evidence points to the practice. In the conversation between\nNebo and Assurbanipal, to which reference has been made, the god\npromises to the king, \u201cI will raise up thy head and erect thy form in\nthe temple of Bit-Mashmash\u201d;[122.2] the names of old Babylonian kings\nare marked with the ideogram of divinity, and Professor\nJastrow[122.3] mentions an inscription of the fourth millennium B.C.\nin which Gudea ordains sacrifices to his own statues. A document is\nquoted by Mr. Johns,[122.4] recording the dedication of a piece of\nland by a private citizen \u201cfor his life,\u201d that is to say, to bring a\nblessing on himself, to the King Lugalla who is called a god, and to\nhis consort. But Zimmern[122.5] considers that the direct deification\nof kings was a practice of the earliest period only, and was never\npushed so far as it was in Egypt. {123} There is reason to suppose\nthat the king or patesi who controlled Nippur had alone the right to\nbe deified, Nippur being the original centre of the Sumerian\nreligion.[123.1]\n\nThe sacred character of the king implied that he could exercise\nmiraculous functions or put forth divine \u201cmana\u201d on behalf of his\npeople. We find him in the earlier period reciting incantations in the\ndark of the moon to avert evil from the land.[123.2] One of the kings\nof the dynasty of Ur assumed the title \u201cthe exorciser of the holy tree\nof Eridu,\u201d which may point to certain magic functions performed by the\nking on the sacred tree.[123.3]\n\nThis political aspect of religion appears pronounced also in other\nearly communities of the Semitic race; the high god or goddess is the\nhead of the State; the people of Moab are the sons and daughters of\nChemosh; the goddess of Askalon and Sidon wears the mural crown. And\ndoubtless the early Semitic kingship was of the same sacred character\nelsewhere as in Mesopotamia. The King of Moab on the Mesha Stone calls\nhimself the son of Chemosh; and Ben-Hadad, King of Damascus, is the\nson of Hadad.[123.4] In the Aramaic inscription found at\nSinjerli,[123.5] the gods Hadad, El-Reschef, and Shamash are regarded\nas special protectors of the kings. One of the last kings of Sidon,\nTabnit, in the inscription on his sarcophagus, places his priestly\noffice before his royal title, \u201cI, Tabnit, priest of Astarte, King of\nthe Sidonians.\u201d[123.6] King of Byblos or Gobal, in {124} the fifth\ncentury B.C., regards himself as called to his high office by the\nBaalat, the goddess of the State, and prays that she may bless him and\ngive him length of days \u201cbecause he is a just king\u201d:[124.1] and\nmention has already been made of Phoenician monuments showing the King\nof Sidon seated with Astarte and embraced by her. The claim to actual\ngodship may have really been made by the King of Tyre, as the prophet\nEzekiel twice reproaches him with the blasphemy: \u201cThou hast said, I am\na God, I sit in the Seat of God, in the midst of the Seas.\u201d[124.2]\n\nThe Hittite monuments and the text of the Hittite treaty with Rameses\nII. reveal a religion of the same political type. The gods are not\nonly witnesses to the political contract, but the great Hittite god of\nheaven puts his own seal to it; and the last few lines of the text\ncontain a careful description of that seal, which reveals the\nsacrosanct character of the Hittite kingship; for the design chosen\nwas a group of the god and the Hittite king whom he is embracing. The\nsame significance belongs to certain scenes in the great relief of\nBoghaz-Keui: on one of the slabs we discern an armed god with his arm\nround the neck and his hand grasping the hand of a smaller figure,\nwhose emblem and dress suggest a sacerdotal rather than a royal\npersonality. But the happy coincidence of the description in the\nHittite-Egyptian treaty proves that this is no mere priest, but a\nHittite King[124.3] of sacred function and semi-divine {125}\ncharacter in affectionate union with his god; it suggests also a date\nnot far from the thirteenth century for the Boghaz-Keui relief; and it\nmakes unnecessary and improbable the mystic explanation of this scene\nthat Dr. Frazer has ventured.[125.1] At this early period of the\nHittite empire, the kingship may not yet have been detached from the\npriesthood; even later at Comana, in the same country of Cappadocia,\nthe priests and the kings were drawn from the same stock.[125.2] One\nmore detail bearing perhaps on the present subject may be noted in\nthis monument at Boghaz-Keui: the goddess wears a crenelated cap, that\nreminds us somewhat of the later mural or turreted crown borne by\nCybele and Astarte. May we suppose that this was the origin of those,\nand had the same political significance?\n\nAgain, it may be noted that in Phrygia itself, the land of the\ngoddess, we have vague evidence in the legend of Midas that the early\nkings called by that name were regarded as the sons of Kybele.[125.3]\n\nAs regards the Minoan-Mycenaean religion and its relation to the\nState, the excavations on the site of Knossos suggest that there at\nleast the whole of the state-cult was in the hands of the kings; for\nno public temples have been found, but only shrines in the palaces.\nThis is the strongest proof of the sacral power of the Minoan ruler,\nand we can well believe that he was deified after his death; nor need\nwe wholly discredit that vague statement of Tzetzes that the old kings\nof Crete were given the divine name of Zeus [\u0394\u03af\u03b5\u03c2].[125.4] {126}\nThere is value, then, in Homer\u2019s picture of Minos as the friend of God\nwho holds converse with him.\n\nThe political significance of Greek religion impresses itself upon us\nat a thousand points and under endless aspects. The deity belongs not\nto the individual but to the tribe; and as in the earliest Hellenic\nperiod the tribes were conscious of a certain community of blood,\ntheir earliest religion appears at many points to have transcended the\ntribal limits, and certain deities have developed a national\ncharacter. Now evidence--vague and legendary, it is true, but valuable\nwhen compared with the facts of other communities--compels us to\nconceive of the early Hellenic kings having the same character as\nthose that we have observed in Mesopotamia, Anatolia, and Crete; Homer\nregards them as the god-born, who can exercise religious functions,\nwhose decrees have the force of \u03b8\u03ad\u03bc\u03b9\u03c2. The fire that burnt on their\nhearth was sacred and embodied the life of the community; and in the\nlater period the perpetual fire that was maintained in the Prytaneum\nof the \u03c0\u03cc\u03bb\u03b9\u03c2 represented the ancient sacred hearth-fire of the\nking.[126.1] Also, when the monarchy was generally abolished, many of\nthe cities felt compelled to retain the title of \u03b2\u03b1\u03c3\u03b9\u03bb\u03b5\u03cd\u03c2 for the\npriest who carried on the religious functions as the shadow of the\nancient priest-king. But these similar phenomena are of little\nethnographic value. Primitive Hellenism was in these respects only\nmaintaining its own inherited traditions, and following the same lines\nof early social evolution as those of other communities. On the other\nhand, the distinctness of developed Hellenism is the secular\nindependence of its intellect; and even in its earliest {127} mythic\nperiod we can believe that the divine character of the Basileus was\nless impressively felt, his association with the divinity less\nintimate, than was the case in Mesopotamia. Neither Agamemnon nor his\npredecessors would speak, we may be sure, with the same astonishing\nself-consciousness of their divine inspiration as the earliest and\nlater kings of Babylon and Assyria.\n\nReturning to the Mesopotamian societies, we find much other evidence\nof the dependence of State-institutions upon cult and religious ideas.\nJustice and the integrity of the Law were virtues consecrated by old\nBabylonian religion. One of the most striking of the Shamash hymns\nexhibits the sun-god as the guardian of right judgment--\u201cthe wicked\njudge thou makest to behold bondage--him who receives not a bribe, who\nhas regard to the weak, shall be well-pleasing to Shamash, he shall\nprolong his life\u201d: \u201cShamash hates those who falsify boundaries and\nweights.\u201d[127.1] The respect for the rights of property to which the\nlatter phrase alludes, was maintained by the force of religious\nsanctions. The King Asurbanipal declares that he has restored to the\nBabylonians their fields that had been wrongfully taken away, \u201cfor\nfear of Bel and Nebo.\u201d[127.2] A number of inscribed Babylonian\nboundary-stones have been found with symbols of the various high gods\ncarved upon them, with invocations in their name to deter trespassers,\nor those who would remove their neighbour\u2019s landmark.[127.3] One of\nthese is marked with a curse as follows:[127.4] \u201cMay Ninib, the Lord\nof Boundaries, deprive him of {128} his son the water-pourer\u201d--meaning\nthat the man who violates the boundaries shall leave no son behind him\nto perform the funeral rites. Probably other examples of this practice\nare to be found in non-Hellenic Asia Minor; at present I can only\nquote one, a late Phrygian inscription, which, however, may testify to\nan early Phrygian religious function, on a slab with the divine name\n\u1f49\u03c1\u03bf\u03c6\u03cd\u03bb\u03b1\u03be, \u201cBoundary-guardian,\u201d inscribed beneath a carved\nrelief-figure of the god Men bearing a club.[128.1] In Greece, as is\nwell known, religion contributed the same aid to the evolution of the\nlaw of private property in land; the boundary is put under the\nprotection of Zeus \u1f4d\u03c1\u03b9\u03bf\u03c2, a power similar to the Latin Jupiter\nTerminus, or of Hermes \u1f19\u03c0\u03b9\u03c4\u03ad\u03c1\u03bc\u03b1\u03b9\u03bf\u03c2.[128.2] In this function they are\nregarded as nether-deities, whose divinity is latent in the soil. But\nthough Hellas may have borrowed from Babylon its system of\nland-measurement, it did not need to borrow this religious idea and\npractice. For these are widespread over the world: in the Teutonic\nnorth the rights of the owner were sanctified by carrying holy fire\nfrom the hearth round the boundary; and in savage modern societies by\nthe use of the terrible weapon of the tabu and by the erection of\nfetiches on the boundary mark which serve as \u1f00\u03c0\u03bf\u03c4\u03c1\u03cc\u03c0\u03b1\u03b9\u03b1.[128.3] We\nhave here a salient example of religion as a constructive force in\nframing a great social institution, while the motive desire is secular\nand purely human.\n\nBut we must not, I think, hope to be able to trace with any exactness\nthe part played by religion in constructing the various departments of\nthe social fabric {129} of Babylonia; for when we get our first\nglimpse of that society it is already so far advanced, so complex in\nits civilisation, in a sense so modern, that its embryology is likely\nto escape us. Nevertheless, it is interesting for our purpose to study\nthe earliest material, the code of Hammurabi, to watch what light it\nthrows on the correlation of religious and secular life.\n\nSome parts of it are missing, but we may be allowed to pass a\ntemporary judgment on that which is preserved, and which appears to be\nthe greater part of the whole corpus.[129.1] The code, as I have\nmentioned, is inspired by the god, safeguarded by the god, and the\nlegislation is in that sense theocratic; but as compared, for\ninstance, with the Jewish books of the Law, it impresses us as the\nwork of a cool-headed lawyer, of secular utilitarian principles,\nbringing legal acumen to bear on the problems of a complex society. At\ncertain points it is still on the barbaric plane: the principle of \u201can\neye for an eye\u201d is enacted; the sense of individual responsibility for\nwrong-doing is not yet so far developed but that vicarious punishment\nis still allowed; a man\u2019s son or daughter might be put to death for\nhis own offence. But in many respects it reveals an advanced moral and\nintellectual view, and the religious atmosphere is absent where we\nshould most expect to find an infusion of it. In the enactments\ndealing with the fees due to a physician, we seem to discern that\nmedicine has become a free and secular science. Still more important\nfor our purpose are the clauses concerning homicide, for it is\nparticularly in regard to homicide that religious feeling has been\nmost operative in the {130} early legislation of society, and the\nevolution of our modern morality concerning this offence has been at\ntimes retarded by religion. Only one clause in the code happens to\ndeal with deliberate murder, and only murder in special circumstances,\nthose in which Clytemnestra murdered Agamemnon: Hammurabi would have\nimpaled Clytemnestra: a few other clauses are concerned with culpable\nhomicide and unintentional. Hammurabi being himself a master-builder,\nis severe with bad architects who build houses so weakly that they\nfall in and kill the owners: in such a case he kills the architect.\nBut he is singularly equitable and mild with a man who is drawn into a\nquarrel in which blows are passed, and who unthinkingly wounds or\nkills his opponent; if he can take an oath that he acted \u201cwithout\nknowledge or without will,\u201d he has only to pay the physician if the\nman is wounded, and half a mina of silver if the man is killed and was\nof free birth. Here there is no mention of the blood-feud, and\nBabylonian society seems wholly to have escaped from that dangerous\nprinciple of tribal barbarism.[130.1] Neither is there any hint of\nthe inherent impurity of all bloodshed, whatever is the manner of the\nshedding; and it seems that this society was no longer in bondage to\nthat religious feeling, to which our modern moral sense concerning\nmurder is in many ways indebted, but which is often obstructive of\nlegal and ethical progress, and which coloured so deeply the early\nJudaic and Hellenic law of homicide. Further, we note that Hammurabi\u2019s\ncode has come to allow the consideration of motives {131} and\nextenuating circumstances; and in this vital respect it ranks with\nmodern civilised legislation. Between such a society and the\nproto-Hellenic community, at least in regard to the view of homicide,\nthere was a great gulf fixed.\n\nBut for the present let us pursue the code further. Another crime that\nearly society regards with religious horror, and of which religion\nalways takes cognisance, is incest. The enactments of the code deal\nonly with three cases: incest with daughter, mother, and stepmother;\nin the first, the sinner is driven from the land, probably into\nperpetual exile; in the second, both parties are burned alive; in the\nthird, he is merely driven from the paternal house. The first two\npunishments reveal, I think, religious feeling, stronger in the second\ncase than in the first: the sinner pollutes the land, therefore the\npollution must be purged by his flight, or when most deadly must be\npurged away by fire; for execution by burning had often the religious\nsignificance of a holocaust. Still it is only by surmise that we\ndetect religious colour in the code at this point: in fact, it emerges\nclearly only in a few clauses. We note that the code allows of\nexpurgation by oath-taking; so did the early Greeks and our own\nforefathers, and the practice is not distinctive of any particular\npeople or group. The code allows the ordeal in certain cases, as did\nthe Greek, and as probably every community has done at a certain stage\nof religious feeling; also civilised Babylon countenanced trials for\nwitchcraft, and enacted a similar water-ordeal to that which prevailed\nin England till fairly recent times.\n\nOne clause is of interest as showing that Hammurabi was not afraid of\nany opposition from the priesthood if he wished to tax Church\nproperty; for he enacts that {132} the ransom of his captured feudal\nfollowers (about whom he is particularly thoughtful) \u201cshall be paid\nout of the property of the temple nearest to the place where they were\ntaken prisoners.\u201d[132.1] But the most interesting part of the code\nfrom the religious point of view, are the enactments concerning a\nclass of women who are devoted to the service of religion, sisters or\nwives, as they are here called, of Marduk: but it will be more\nconvenient to consider these later on when the question of ritual is\ndealt with.\n\nApart from this great document, I do not know if further evidence is\nforthcoming of the precise influence of religion on the social system\nof Babylonia. The two spheres may once have been closely\ninterdependent; but we can see from the earliest legal contracts that\nlaw had already freed itself from religion in the main; the judge is a\nsecular authority;[132.2] the scribe who draws up the contracts is a\nprofessional notary, and it is not clear that he had any necessary\nconnection with the temples;[132.3] we only hear of certain elders\nwho assisted the judge, many of whom were temple officials or members\nof the guild of Shamash votaries;[132.4] also, we find trials taking\nplace in the temples, especially the temple of Shamash at Sippara,\nwhere the legal judgment was called \u201cthe judgment of Shamash in the\nhouse of Shamash.\u201d[132.5] Much light has yet to come, no doubt, from\nBabylon, and new light perhaps from Anatolia, to illuminate the part\nplayed by religion in the evolution of society. We would wish to know\nmore concerning the religious side of family institutions, whether,\nfor instance, there was any direct cult of the family hearth to which\nthe Hellenes owed so much. Robertson Smith definitely denies that\n{133} any of the Semitic races knew of such an institution; and he is\nvery probably right, for it belongs more naturally to the colder\nclimates, where the fixed and carefully placed hearth is a necessary\ncentre of the dwelling-room, than to the hotter, where the inhabitants\ncould be content in winter with a movable brazier. Yet one text at\nleast may be cited to prove, if rightly interpreted, that the hearth\ncould be occasionally deified in a Babylonian liturgy; for in a hymn\nto Nusku the fire-god, which contains a litany of absolution from\nsins, we find the phrase, \u201cMay the hearth of the house deliver you and\nabsolve you,\u201d[133.1] but the same litany speaks also of the canals as\ndeified. And we may value these two examples of that polydaimonism to\nwhich we could find parallels in early Hellas. But this evidence does\nnot point to any established and regulated hearth-worship which might\nserve as the religious bond of family morality. More than one\ninscription, however, attests the worship of a family house-god\n(ilu-biti), to whom it seems a small domestic chapel was\nconsecrated.[133.2] Similarly, we have in Hellas Zeus \u1f19\u03c1\u03ba\u03b5\u1fd6\u03bf\u03c2 and\n\u0396\u03b5\u1f7a\u03c2 \u039a\u03c4\u03ae\u03c3\u03b9\u03bf\u03c2. And the Babylonian ilu-biti is mentioned, in association\nwith a divinity of the street, ila-s\u00fbki,--a name which reminds us of\nApollo \u1f08\u03b3\u03c5\u03b9\u03b5\u03cd\u03c2. Only, these household and street-divinities in Babylon\nmay have been mere \u201cdaimones\u201d rather than \u03b8\u03b5\u03bf\u03af; nor is it clear\nwhether these family cults were ancestral, the heritage of a\nparticular clan, or whether they were merely consecrated to the\npersonal protective deity of the householder, or what part they played\nin the family organisation, for instance, in the {134}\nmarriage-ceremonies, births, and adoptions. So far as I have been able\nto study them, the Babylonian litanies and hymns seem rarely to\nreflect the religious side of the family life[134.1]; they are\nprompted by the needs of the city and the empire, or by the emotional\ncrises of the individual soul. The legal contracts preserved on the\nbrick tablets throw some light on the forms of the marriage ceremony,\nwhich appears to have been performed usually in a registration-office\nrather than a church. There must surely have been also some religious\nside to it; but the only evidence, so far as I am aware, is a very\ncurious and doubtful document that has been published by Dr. Pinches,\ncontaining details of a religious ceremony which appears to be part of\na bridal.[134.2] I will not quote the quaint and bizarre formulae, as\nthe renderings are said to be highly conjectural: if they prove\ncorrect, one may judge that the service belongs to a highly advanced\nreligion; but I cannot adduce any parallel to it from other peoples.\nAs for the ritual or religious feeling connected with adoption or\nbirth, I am not aware that the documents have so far disclosed\nanything: it is stated vaguely by Peiser, in his sketch of Babylonian\nsociety, that adoption at Babylon might be prompted by a religious\nmotive, namely, by the desire of the childless parents to have an heir\nwho might continue the ancestor-worship of the family. But no document\nis quoted in proof of this; and it is very doubtful if we ought to\nspeak of Babylonian ancestor-worship.[134.3] We may suspect that the\nwriter has been misled by the {135} well-known facts of Vedic,\nHellenic, and Roman family cult.\n\nIn this, as in other respects, we may feel how advanced, modern and\nsecular, was Babylonian society. No trace has appeared as yet of the\ntribal or phratric system; the family is the unit of the State, but\nindividualism is much developed.\n\nOn the other hand, the function of religion as a constructive force in\nearly Greek society, in the evolution of tribal and intertribal law,\nis more obvious and transparent, for in this land we are fortunate\nenough to catch glimpses of civilised society in its making, which are\ndenied to us in Mesopotamia. Hellenic religion penetrated every domain\nand department of Hellenic life to an even greater degree than did\nBabylonian religion the society of Babylon. And yet the Greek mind as\nit develops becomes pronouncedly secular, at least in comparison with\nthe Oriental. The contradiction is only apparent. The Hellene used\nreligion as an instrument for constructing his social order, for\nutilitarian ends, as a serviceable minister that could rarely, and\nnever for long, establish a tyranny. He even used it to assist and\nglorify his sports, yet he varied and arranged these according to his\npleasure. The detrimental tendency of religion to petrify custom was\nless marked in his midst than elsewhere; as usual, it often lagged\nbehind in the progress of the race, yet it followed the progress on\nthe whole, and often assisted it.\n\nI cannot here give a detailed account of the social functions of Greek\nreligion; and some of its more interesting phenomena I have tried to\nanalyse in detail in my _Hibbert Lectures_ and in various chapters of\nmy _Cults_: one of the most important of the special questions, the\nsocial or political influence of the cults of ancestors, {136} entered\ninto the course that I delivered last year. I will only attempt here a\nbrief indication of the salient facts that will repay special study,\nconfining myself as far as possible to those that belong to the\nproto-Hellenic period. Our knowledge, of course, of the relation of\nreligion to the social order of life, law, and morality in the second\nmillennium in Greece, is only dim and hypothetical: here and there\nHomer affords us glimpses; for the rest, we have legends and cult\nevidence which must be carefully and tactfully used. I have already\ntouched on the religious character of the ancient kingship, and the\nevidence of the religious origin of some of the Hellenic \u03c0\u03cc\u03bb\u03b5\u03b9\u03c2. It is\nprobable that some of the deities had already in the proto-Hellenic\nperiod a political character, as deities of the assembly or the\n\u201cagora.\u201d Thus Apollo \u1f08\u03b3\u03c5\u03b9\u03b5\u03cd\u03c2, at first a divine leader of the\ninvasion, becomes, when the conquerors settle on the land, at once a\ndivinity of the city; and some scholars would derive his very name\nfrom the \u1f00\u03c0\u03ad\u03bb\u03bb\u03b1, the political assembly. In order to ensure the\nsettlement and development of law, the debates and judgments in the\nmarket-place must be secured from armed disturbance such as frequently\nthreatened the peace of the Icelandic Thing: therefore, in pre-Homeric\ndays the market-place was consecrated as a holy place, and the elders\nwho give judgment \u201chold in their hands the sceptres of clear-voiced\nheralds.\u201d[136.1] These words probably refer to the \u03ba\u03b7\u03c1\u03cd\u03ba\u03b5\u03b9\u03bf\u03bd, the\nbadge of Hermes, the god of the market-place, which as a religious\namulet confers inviolability on the bearer. The same fetich-badge,\ngiving security to the herald and ambassador, assisted the development\nof international law; and the only spiritual sanction of treaties\n{137} and covenants with other communities was a religious one, the\nforce of the oath sworn and the ordeal-ritual which accompanied the\nconclusion of a treaty or contract. The temple on the borderland of\ndifferent tribes served as a secure place for intertribal intercourse,\ncommercial and festive, and might become the centre of an Amphictyony,\nor federal union of tribes. The constitution of the Delphic\nAmphictyony points back to the proto-Hellenic period. The oracles were\nbeginning in the second millennium to play a political part, as they\ndid with greater effect in the first. For Zeus was already at Dodona,\nand Apollo, the political god _par excellence_, at Pytho.\n\nOur indications are slight and dim; but the poet of the _Odyssey_\nseems to be aware that an \u1f40\u03bc\u03c6\u03ae or oracular deliverance might be used\nto dethrone a royal dynasty.[137.1] The dedication of a tithe of the\ncaptives taken in war to Apollo was a custom connected with the\nearliest settlements and migration, for Apollo disposed of his\ncaptives by colonising them on some vacant land. The practice appears\nto have been a very early one, for this is the legend of the\npre-Dorian settlement of the Dryopes in the Peloponnese;[137.2] also\nthere is evidence for the institution in pre-historic Greece of that\nreligious system of colonisation which the Latins called the Ver\nSacrum.[137.3] In fact, the religion of Apollo, especially the common\nworship of Apollo \u03a0\u03c5\u03b8\u03b1\u03b5\u03cd\u03c2, served more than any other cult as a bond\nof connection between the independent communities already--I\nbelieve--in pre-Homeric days; and to this earliest epoch may belong\nthat interesting ritual of the Hyperborean offerings brought by\nsacrosanct Hellenic pilgrims down from the north along the primeval\nroutes of the Aryan immigration.[137.4]\n\n{138}\n\nThe narrower systems of family and phratry tell the same story of the\nconstructive power of religion. The primitive grouping into septs and\nphratries and tribal subdivisions, of which the traces are not yet\ndiscovered in the civilisation of Babylon, has left its deep imprint\non historic Greek society; and religion is intimately interwoven with\nthe domestic and phratric cults, not only in that these are much\nconcerned with worship of heroes and ancestors, but that the high\ndivinities also, Zeus \u03a6\u03c1\u03ac\u03c4\u03c1\u03b9\u03bf\u03c2, Athena \u03a6\u03c1\u03b1\u03c4\u03c1\u03af\u03b1 and \u1f08\u03c0\u03b1\u03c4\u03bf\u03c5\u03c1\u03af\u03b1, take\nthese institutions under their charge. Hence all adoptions and\nadmissions of new members into the phratry had to be performed at the\naltar. The marriage ceremony was a religious ritual--in Attica, at\nleast, a religious communion like the Roman Confarreatio,[138.1] and\nthe mutual duties of parents and children, kinsmen and tribesmen, were\nconsecrated by the early ideas concerning the divine nature.[138.2]\n\nA festival such as the \u1f08\u03c0\u03b1\u03c4\u03bf\u03cd\u03c1\u03b9\u03b1, instituted to cement a social\norganisation, and to all appearances of great antiquity, has nothing\nlike it in the Babylonian festival calendar, so far as I am aware; and\nagain, to the many political and social titles of the Hellenic\ndivinities such as \u03a0\u03bf\u03bb\u03b9\u03b5\u03cd\u03c2, \u1f08\u03b3\u03bf\u03c1\u03b1\u1fd6\u03bf\u03c2, \u03a0\u03ac\u03bd\u03b4\u03b7\u03bc\u03bf\u03c2, \u0392\u03bf\u03c5\u03bb\u03b1\u1fd6\u03bf\u03c2, it would be\nhard to find parallels in the cult-terminology of Babylon.\n\nIn considering a religion under its social or legal aspects, the laws\nconcerning homicide will often yield telling evidence. There is a\nwhole aeon of development dividing the code of Hammurabi and the\nHomeric and pre-Homeric theory in this matter. The Babylonian had\narrived, as we have seen,[138.3] in some indefinitely {139} early\nperiod at the conception of murder as a crime against the whole State,\nat what we may call the advanced secular point of view. In Greece that\nconception is post-Homeric: the Homeric and pre-Homeric societies were\nstill in the stage of law in which homicide is treated as a private\naffair of the kinsmen, a matter to be settled by the blood-feud or\nweregild. Only in certain cases it was a sin, namely, when the slain\nperson was a suppliant or a kinsman. The religious feeling in respect\nof the first partly arises from the old Aryan Hearth-worship;[139.1]\nin respect of the second, it is associated with a primitive tribal\nhorror of shedding kindred blood: and, though the feeling of the\nreligious sanctity of the guest, the suppliant, and the kinsman was\nstrong in Semitic communities, I cannot find any special Babylonian\ncult that is analogous to that of Zeus \u039c\u03b5\u03b9\u03bb\u03af\u03c7\u03b9\u03bf\u03c2, or \u1f39\u03ba\u03ad\u03c3\u03b9\u03bf\u03c2, or\n\u039e\u03ad\u03bd\u03b9\u03bf\u03c2. I have traced elsewhere the development in the ninth and\neighth centuries of the more civilised legislation concerning homicide\nin Greece, and I have tried to indicate the precise part played by\nreligion in aiding the evolution:[139.2] to get to the facts one must\nspecially study the worship of Athena and Apollo. I have connected it\nwith a growing sense of the impurity of bloodshed, which might express\nitself in a definite religious way, as fear of the ghost or of the\noffended deity. It is open to us to explain this increased\nsensitiveness concerning purity as a mark of Oriental influence, which\nwas reaching Greece in the first millennium B.C. But at least we ought\nnot to derive it from Mesopotamia until we find evidence of\npurifications from bloodshed as a common ritual in Babylonian\nreligion, and the impurity of bloodshed an underlying {140} principle\nof the Babylonian law of murder. But, as we have seen, we discern here\nonly the secular result: the religious force that may have worked\ntowards it is too far removed in the background of the past.\nSummarily, we must conclude that the political application of Hellenic\nreligion seems wholly a native and independent product of the Hellenic\nspirit, and reflected the characteristically Hellenic forms of civic\nlife.\n\n\n\n\n CHAPTER VIII.\n Religion and Morality.\n\n{141}\n\nThe comparison must also consider the relation in these various\nsocieties between religion and morality, both social and individual.\nFrom this point of view, as we are dealing with the second millennium\nonly, it must be a comparison mainly between the Mesopotamian and the\nHellenic; for except for a few Hittite letters that reveal little,\nthere is no evidence concerning our races of the west of Asia Minor,\nsince monuments can scarcely be direct witnesses concerning ethics; at\nleast, the Asia Minor monuments are not, and we must await the further\ndiscovery and interpretation of Hittite literature. For the\nproto-Hellenic period also, it may be said, we have no explicit and\ndirect evidence. But we have Homer, whose poems belong to the end of\nthat period and the beginning of the second; and we cannot suppose\nthat the average morality that they represent had all grown up in the\ncentury before them, still less that Homer had discovered it as an\noriginal teacher. Therefore, cautiously and critically handled, his\npoems throw some light on the moral facts of the centuries behind\nthem. There is also some evidence to be gleaned from the rich field of\nGreek mythology and cult; only we must realise that we rarely can\ndetermine the date of the rise of an old Hellenic legend or the\ninstitution of an old Hellenic cult. The Mesopotamian evidence, {142}\nthen, is direct and explicit, depending solely on the right\ninterpretation of documents; the Hellenic evidence concerning the\nearliest period is indirect and often hypothetical.\n\nA careful study of all the sources will allow this induction, that the\ndeities of this period in both societies are on the side of whatever\nmorality is current, inspiring it, protecting it, and avenging the\nbreach of it; we are dealing, in fact, with a religion of personal\nmoral powers. Concerning the Mesopotamian, this is a trite observation\nto make; the most superficial glance of a few hymns confirms it.\nShamash is the great god of justice, the protector of the weak; Enlil\n\u201cdestroyeth the evil-minded\u201d;[142.1] Ishtar judges the cause\naccording to right--she maintains the right of the oppressed and the\ndowncast; Righteousness and Judgment are the sons of Shamash.\nGa-tum-duga, \u201cshe who produces good,\u201d is an appellative of\nBau.[142.2] And yet this is not the whole account. The destructive\nand evil character of some of the deities in Mesopotamia occasionally\nappears in the hymns, and is expressed apparently in certain titles.\nThis might be the case at times when those deities are addressed that\nwere powers of death and the lower world; for instance, Nergal, the\nlord of destruction; Isum, a little-known deity to whom a phrase is\nattached that is said to mean \u201cthe exalted murderer.\u201d[142.3] And this\nmight be explained by the fact that these powers personified, as it\nwere, the baneful forces of nature, or, as perhaps in the case of\nMartu, whom Jeremias cites as one of the evil gods, were\naliens.[142.4] {143} We find also the name of an obscure deity,\n\u201cIra,\u201d who was a god of pestilence, and at times identified with\nNergal;[143.1] but that a direct cult was attached to him in this\nbaneful character is not shown. And it is unlikely that any Babylonian\ndeity was worshipped definitely as an evil power: moral speculation\ncould always explain the evil that he appeared to work as a punishment\nfor sin or as righteous vengeance on the enemy; that is to say, the\nevil element becomes moralised, and the worshipper is always convinced\nthat the god can become good to him. Thus in the same context Nergal\nis called the \u201cLord of Destruction,\u201d and yet he is \u201cthe god of the\nlittle ones, he of the beneficent visage.\u201d[143.2] The dark storm-god\nAdad, before whose wrath the high gods rise up in terror, the pitiless\none, can yet be implored as \u201cthe merciful among the great\ngods.\u201d[143.3] This transformation, by which a destructive\nnature-power could become a benevolent being, follows a law of\nreligious psychology, which expresses itself in the quasi-magical\nphraseology of prayer. The worshipper wishes to get some good from his\ndeity or some mercy: therefore he calls him good and merciful, feeling\nthat such spell-words constrain the god to be so; and belief will\narise from the continual repetition of formulae. Therefore, by the\ntime our record begins, all the deities that the Babylonian and\nAssyrian worshipped are beneficent on the whole: the Epic of Creation\nsupposes the existence of primeval bad powers, but these had been\nconquered, and some pardoned, by Marduk. The evil personal agencies\nthat remained active were demons, and these {144} were not worshipped,\nbut exorcised or averted by the good gods.[144.1]\n\nAnd this may serve as a fairly accurate description of the moral\ncharacter of Greek religion at that stage of development where Homer\npresents it to us. The high deities are worshipped on the whole as\nmoral beings and as beneficent: that is, as the guardians of the\nsocial morality of the period, whatever that was. The usual popular\nwriter does not perceive this, because he is always liable to the\nerror of confusing mythology with worship, and supposing that if the\nmythology is licentious or immoral, the deity is worshipped in that\ncharacter. All students of mythology and religion are aware that this\nis false. We might be able to show that the religious imagination and\nstatement of Homer at times fall below the level of contemporary cult,\nat times rise above it. At any rate, he is evidently addressing a\nworld of religious-minded people, who impute their own moral ideals to\ntheir highest divinities, especially to their high god Zeus. \u039d\u03ad\u03bc\u03b5\u03c3\u03b9\u03c2,\nthe social feeling of indignation which is at the psychic basis of\nsocial morality, is the common emotion excited both in gods and men by\nthe same acts; and though much of Greek religion was still not yet\npenetrated with morality, the higher personal gods were generally\nregarded as on the side of righteousness. One or two Greek myths, such\nas that of Prometheus, as Hesiod narrates it, might suggest that the\ndeity was not necessarily conceived as the friend, but sometimes even\nas the enemy, of man. But Hesiod\u2019s narrative does not strike us as\nprimitive or {145} popular; and, at any rate, such a view is\ninconsistent with the earliest stage of worship that we can discover\nor surmise. The poets and philosophers might dislike Ares; but the\nHellenes, who worshipped him, did not worship him as an evil god, with\napotropaeic rites: nor is it proved or likely that any deity to whom\nactual service was paid, was regarded as in his nature maleficent by\nhis worshippers. The dread powers of the lower world were also givers\nof vegetation. The Erinyes had scarcely a recorded cult, and their\nwrath was moralised as righteous indignation; nor was ghost-cult, when\nit arose, merely a service of terror and aversion. It is a striking\nconfirmation of the view here expressed, that among the very long list\nof cult-appellatives attached to the Greek divinities, some of which\nhave a moral value, there are only two doubtful examples of an evil\nconnotation attaching to the word.[145.1]\n\nWe may affirm generally, then, that the Mesopotamian and Hellenic\nreligions are more or less on the same level of thought in respect of\nthe moral and beneficent character of the deities. But careful study\nof the Hellenic will give us the impression that the terrible and\ndestructive power of divinity is far less emphasised by cult than it\nwas in the Eastern Semitic world. Every deity might be dangerous if\nneglected, and certainly would be if insulted. The idea of the\n\u201cjealous god\u201d is non-moral, and can easily become immoral: that is, it\ntends to divorce the conception of the divine character from the\npurely human moral ideal. And this idea is palpable not only in the\nHellenic and Mesopotamian, but still more in the Judaic religion, and\nour own religion is not yet delivered from it. But apart {146} from\nthis, the Hellenic imagination, so far as we can discern it, even in\nits infancy, did not construct manifold forms of fear out of the\ndangerous powers in the nature-world, and worship them with the higher\nforms of cult. We do not come upon aboriginal thunder gods and storm\ngods _per se_ (I use the term \u201cgod\u201d advisedly): Zeus the thunderer had\nbeen civilised and moralised before Homer\u2019s time. Poseidon had always\nhis wild side as god of storms and earthquakes; and to the end he\nremains rather more a non-moral nature-power than the others; but\ndestructive force was certainly not the centre of his personality, and\nin the pre-historic days he had become the father of the Minyan and\nIonic people, and the guardian of their family life. The wind-powers\nmight develop into beneficent gods or ancestors; or might occasionally\nbe regarded from the lower standpoint of polydaimonism, and averted by\nmagical means. The higher Hellenic religion did not admit such beings\nas \u201cIra,\u201d the god of pestilence, or a special god of storms or\nearthquakes, and it is far less than the Babylonian a religion of\nfear. This difference will emerge more clearly in the study of ritual.\n\nOne more difference strikes us in comparing the ethical character of\nthe two religions. The Greek high divinity is a moral being, but not\nevery divinity was moralised to such an extent as were the higher\npowers of Mesopotamia. A few Hellenic deities remain ethically\nundeveloped and crude, Ares, for instance, and in a certain sense\nHestia. A salient example is the contrast between the fire-god\nHephaistos and the Babylonian-Sumerian Nusku or Girru.[146.1] Both\nare elemental powers of fire, both are therefore concerned with the\narts of metalwork; but Hephaistos remains a handicraftsman, and {147}\nhas little or nothing to do with moral life; whereas the Babylonian\ndeity acquires an exalted moral and spiritual character. Dionysos\nbecomes a most potent force in the later Hellenic world; yet an\nirrepressible vein of wildness and a spirit that refuses to conform to\nthe ethical ideal of Hellas remains in him. A god so highly placed at\nBabylon would have been clothed with moral attributes in many an\necstatic phrase of temple liturgy.\n\nIt would be interesting to go more into detail concerning the special\nmoral virtues consecrated by the two religions, or the various moral\nattributes specially attributed to the divinities. Such a study would\ndemand two long treatises on Greek and Babylonian ethics. I have only\ntime and power to indicate here a few points. The peoples of the old\nworld show many general points of resemblance with each other in their\nmoral ideas, and as compared with ourselves many salient points of\ndifference. And moral statistics have rarely any value for proving the\ninfluence of one race upon another. As the Babylonian society was more\ncomplex in the second millennium than was the Hellenic, so must its\nmorality have been; but it will not be found futile from the point of\nview of our main purpose to compare the two in respect of some special\nvirtues, as we have already compared them incidentally in regard to\nthe ideas about homicide.\n\nThe idea of the sin of perjury belongs to the earliest stage of\nreligious ethic, and is the starting-point of much moral evolution. It\nis magical in its origin; for the oath-taker enters into communion\nwith the divinity, by touching some sacred object or eating sacred\nfood charged with divine power, which, being now within him, will\nblast him if he forswears. This dangerous power becomes interpreted as\nthe anger {148} of the deity by whom the person swears falsely. Hence\nthe belief arose in early Mesopotamia and Greece, and generally in the\ncults of personal gods, that they punish perjury as a dire offence:\nsuch punishment will fall on the community or individual, and often on\nboth: therefore a social moral instinct arises against perjury. This\nmight develop into a moral idea among a progressive people that\ntruthfulness, quite apart from the ritual of the oath, was dear to God\nin any case, and was therefore a religious virtue. And of this\nreligious virtue attaching to truthfulness, however it came to attach,\nwe have evidence in a Babylonian ritual of confession; before the evil\ndemon can be exorcised, the priest asked certain questions of the\npenitent, and twice he asks, \u201cHas he said, yea for nay, and nay for\nyea?\u201d[148.1] But in no Hellenic record have I ever been able to find\na religious parallel to this. The Hellenic religious spirit was most\nsensitive in respect to perjury, and no religion ever reprobated it\nmore. In regard to ordinary truthfulness, Hellenic religion had\nnothing to say, no message to give, and Hellenic ethics very little.\nIn the poetic story, Athena smiles on the audacious mendacities of\nOdysseus, and Hermes loves the liar Autolykos. Not that the religion\nconsecrated mendacity, only it failed to consecrate truth.\n\nIt is only the great Achilles who hates with the hate of hell the man\nwho says one thing with his tongue and hides another thing in his\nheart.[148.2] This is the voice of northern honour, but it has no\nreligious import.\n\nThe ideas connected with perjury have this further value for the\nhistory of ethics, that they contributed much to the growth of\ninternational morality. It is {149} often supposed that the earliest\nmorality is merely tribal or clannish, and that in respect of the\nalien it is nonexistent; but this account of morality is false\nwherever perjury is found to be a sin. For one great occasion for\noath-taking is a treaty or a contract with an alien power. And Homer\nis our witness that it was considered an immoral act for either\nAchaeans or Trojans to break their mutual oath. And this early idea of\ninternational morality inspires the Tel-El-Amarna correspondence and\nthe Hittite treaty with Rameses. International morality also includes\nthe duty of hospitality, and the pre-Homeric world had developed this\nmoral sense strongly, and no doubt through the aid of religion; the\nstranger who puts himself into communion with Hestia, the holy hearth,\nor with Zeus Xenios, has a moral right to protection, and the\nabduction of Helen was regarded as a sin on the part of Paris against\nZeus the god of the guest-right. I have not yet been able to find a\ncult-concept in Babylonian religion parallel to that of Zeus Xenios,\nor any reference to hospitality as a sacred duty; yet we know that\nthis was and is as highly regarded by some Semitic races as it ever\nwas by the Hellenic. We may suspect, however, that as Babylonian\nsociety was in many respects very modern and complex, the religious\nsanction of hospitality had decayed.\n\nLooking now at the moral code as regulating the relations of members\nof the same tribe or community, we cannot doubt that clan-morality was\nalready highly developed in the proto-Hellenic period: the rights and\nduties of kinsmen are the basis of this morality, and these were\nconsecrated by the worship around the altar of Zeus \u201cin the\ncourtyard,\u201d which may have been a primitive religious gathering-place\nfor the kinsfolk of the early Aryan household. Homer is our first\nwitness for the {150} cult of Zeus \u1f19\u03c1\u03ba\u03b5\u1fd6\u03bf\u03c2,[150.1] but it is evident\nthat it had been long in existence before his time. The earliest moral\nduty that the tie of kinship imposes is the maintenance of peace and\ngoodwill, and as the kindreds grow into a political community, this\nbecomes the basis of political morality and the corner-stone of the\nreligion of the city. The Homeric age, and probably their\npredecessors, have attained this ethical religious idea; and though\nHomer is the first to give voice to it, we will not suppose that he\ndiscovered it: \u201coutcast from clan, from holy law, and holy hearth is\nhe who longs for bitter battle among the people of his own\ntownship.\u201d[150.2] And to this early age we must also impute the\nreligious morality of the monogamic family: the son fears the curse of\nthe father and of the mother, even of the elder brother: \u201cthou knowest\nthat the powers of judgment defend the right of the elder-born\u201d--Iris\nsays warningly to Poseidon.[150.3] The Erinyes are specially charged\nwith the preservation of the morality of the family and clan, and with\nthe punishment of the two chief offences against the sacred blood of\nthe kin, murder and incest. Of the first, enough has been said; the\nreligious view of the earliest Greeks concerning the second is first\nattested by Homer, who mentions \u201cthe woes of Oedipus that the Furies\nof his mother bring to pass for him\u201d;[150.4] he is thinking more of\nthe incestuous marriage than of the parricide. As regards ordinary\nadultery, it is only from the later period of Greek literature that we\nhear protests against it as a sin, though the sentiment of moral\nindignation against the adulterer is no doubt pre-Homeric. One or two\nGreek myths that may reflect very early thought express the severe\nreprobation on the part of the father of {151} unchastity in his\nunmarried daughter; myths telling of cruel sentences of death imposed\nfor the offence. But these suggest no religious feeling; the sentiment\nmay well have arisen from the fact that under the patriarchal system\nthe virgin-daughter was the more marriageable and commanded a higher\nbride-price.\n\nLooking at the code of family and social duties in the ethical\nreligion of Babylon, of which the private penitential hymns and\nconfessional ritual of exorcism are the chief witnesses, we find no\nfigures whose concept and function remind us at all of the Erinyes,\nthe curse-powers on the side of righteousness; but there is evidence\nin the literature of a family morality more advanced and more\narticulate than the primitive Greek. Among the sins mentioned in the\nritual of confession, alluded to above, those indicated by the\nfollowing questions are of interest: \u201cHas he caused variance between\nfather and son, mother and daughter, father-in-law and\ndaughter-in-law, brother and brother, friend and friend, partner and\npartner? Has he conceived hatred against his elder brother, has he\ndespised his father and mother, insulted his elder sister?\u201d[151.1]\nAll these acts of social misconduct are supposed to give a man into\nthe possession of the evil demon, which must be exorcised before God\nwill admit him to his fellowship again. Though magical ideas are\noperative in the ceremony, yet we discern here a high religious\nmorality. And among the other moral offences clearly considered as\nsins in the same formula are such as shedding one\u2019s neighbour\u2019s blood,\ncommitting adultery with one\u2019s neighbour\u2019s wife, stealing from one\u2019s\nneighbour. We find also a certain morality in the matter of property\nand commerce given a religious sanction in this text: \u201cThou shalt not\n{152} remove thy neighbour\u2019s landmark\u201d was a religious law in ancient\nBabylonian ethics as in our present liturgy; it would appeal to the\nHellene who reverenced Zeus \u1f4d\u03c1\u03b9\u03bf\u03c2; and there are reasons for believing\nthis cult-idea to have been in vogue very early in Greece. The\nBabylonian code also recognises the sin of using false measure or\nfalse coin. And the confessional liturgy agrees in many points with\nthe famous hymn to Shamash, where phrases occur such as \u201cShamash hates\nhim who falsifies boundaries and weights\u201d; \u201cShamash hates the\nadulterer.\u201d[152.1] It excites our envy also, by stamping as sins\ncertain unpatriotic acts, such as \u201cthe spreading a bad report\nconcerning one\u2019s city,\u201d or \u201cbringing one\u2019s city into evil repute.\u201d\n\nWe may say, then, that we find a high degree of morality in early\nGreece, a still higher at a still earlier period in Babylon, and both\nare obviously indigenous and natural products. And both reveal the\nphenomenon that marks an early stage of social morality: as the tribe\nor the family are one flesh, one corporate unit of life, so the\nmembers are collectively responsible, and \u201cthe sins of the fathers are\nvisited on the children.\u201d This was the familiar law of old Hellas, and\nwe may say of the ancient Mediterranean society; the first to make the\nmomentous protest against it, and to proclaim the responsibility of\nthe individual conscience, was Theognis for the Hellenes and Ezekiel\nfor the Hebrews. The Babylonian, advanced in moral thought as he was,\nhad not escaped the bondage of the older clan-faith: in an\nincantation-hymn to Marduk,[152.2] the man who is seeking deliverance\nprays \u201cmay the sins of my father, of my grandfather, my mother, my\ngrandmother, my family, {153} my whole circle of kindred, not come\nnear me, may they depart from my side.\u201d\n\nOne other characteristic of early moral thought and feeling is that\nthe sense of sin is not wholly ethical according to our modern\ncriteria, but is partly regarded as something external to the will and\npurpose, something inherent in certain acts or substances of which the\nperformance or the contagion renders a man a sinner. Thus in the\nBabylonian confessional liturgy and hymns of penitence, while there is\nmuch that would appeal to the most delicate moral consciousness, and\nis on the same level with the most spiritual passages in the Hebrew\npsalms, there is also a strong admixture of what is alien and\nnon-moral. The confessional formula[153.1] asks a man, for instance,\n\u201cwhether he has sat in the chair of a person under a ban,\u201d that is, \u201ca\nman forbid,\u201d a person impure and under a curse; \u201cwhether he has met\nhim, has slept in his bed, has drunk from his cup.\u201d In one of the\npenitential hymns that might be addressed to any god, \u201cto the god that\nI know, and to the god that I do not know,\u201d as the formula expresses\nit, we find such sorrowful confessions as \u201cwithout knowing it, I have\neaten of that which is abominable in the sight of my god: without\nknowing it, I have trodden on that which is filthy in the sight of my\ngoddess\u201d; \u201cmy sins are many, great is my transgression.\u201d[153.2] This\nmust be taken quite literally: contact with unclean things or with\nunclean persons, eating of forbidden food, is put in the same category\nwith serious offences against social morality, and all these expose a\nman equally to the power of the evil demon and to the loss of his\nGod\u2019s protection. And this is a half-civilised development in\nBabylonian psychology of the primeval savage {154} law of tabu: nor,\nas I think, is there yet any proof that the people of the Mesopotamian\nculture ever attained to the highest plane of ethical enlightenment;\nthe later Zarathustrian religion of the Persian domination is strongly\nfettered by this ritualistic morality, in which the distinction\nbetween that which is morally wrong and that which is physically\nunclean, is never clearly apprehended.\n\nThis mental attitude is supported in the older and later Mesopotamian\nsystem by a vivid polydaimonism; the evil demon is on the alert to\ndestroy the family and the individual; and where the demon is in\npossession the god departs. As the demon takes advantage of every\naccidental act, whether conscious or unconscious, the idea arises in\nthe over-anxious spirit that one cannot be sure when or how often one\nhas sinned, and all illness or other misfortune is attributed to some\nunknown offence.[154.1] The utterance of the Hebrew psalmist, \u201cwho\ncan tell how oft he offendeth: cleanse Thou me from my secret faults,\u201d\nmay express the intense sensitiveness of a very spiritual morality, or\nit may be merely ritualistic anxiety. This latter is certainly the\nexplanation of the strikingly similar phrases in a Babylonian\npenitential hymn--\u201cthe sins that I have done I know not; the trespass\nthat I have committed I know not.\u201d[154.2] The feeling of sin is here\ndeep and very moving--\u201ctake away from me my wickedness as a cloak\u2026 my\nGod, though my sins be seven times seven, yet undo my sins\u201d; yet the\ncontext that illustrates this passionate outpouring of the heart,\nshows that the sin might be such as the accidental stepping on filth.\nSuch ideas, allowed to obsess the mind, easily engender despondency\nand {155} pessimism; and this tone is heard and once or twice is very\nmarked in some of the most striking products of Babylonian religious\npoetry; for instance, in the penitential hymn just quoted from, the\npoet sorrowfully exclaims: \u201cMen are dumb, and of no understanding: all\nmen who live on the earth, what do they understand? Whether they do\nright, or wrong, they understand nothing.\u201d But the strangest example\nof this is a lyric of lamentation that reminds us vividly of the book\nof Job, found in the library of Assurbanipal, and of great antiquity\nand of wide vogue, as Zimmern shows.[155.1] It is a masterpiece of\nthe poetry of pessimism: the theme is the sorrow and tribulation of\nthe righteous who has served God faithfully all his life, and feels at\nthe last that he has had no profit of it; and his main thought is\nexpressed in the lines, \u201cIf I only knew that such things were pleasing\nbefore God; but that which seems good to a man\u2019s self, is evil in the\nsight of God: and that which according to each man\u2019s sense is to be\ndespised, is good in the sight of his God. Who can understand the\ncounsel of the Gods in heaven? A god\u2019s plan is full of darkness, who\nhath searched it out?\u201d\n\nIt is easy in all this to detect the intimate associations with\nBiblical thought and feeling; and we may trace back to Babylon the\ndaimonistic theory of morals that colours the New Testament, and has\nprevailed throughout the centuries of Christendom, and is only slowly\nlosing its hold. But at the same time all this sharply divides early\nBabylonian thought from what we can discern of the early Hellenic, and\nmore than any other evidence confirms the belief that the great\nEastern and Western races were not in close spiritual contact at the\ntime when Hellenism was in the making. Certain {156} external\nresemblances in the thought and feeling about these matters are to be\nfound in Hellas and in Mesopotamia; that is to say, the germs are\nidentical, for they are broadcast all over the world; but the\nintensity of their cultivation, and their importance in relation to\nother life-forces, are immeasurably different. In the earliest Greek\nlegend we discover the reflex of that external unpurposive morality\nthat I have tried to define above: the acts of Oedipus were not\naccording to our moral judgment ethically wrong, for they were wholly\nunintentional: yet in the oldest legend he is \u03c0\u1fb6\u03c2 \u1f04\u03bd\u03b1\u03b3\u03bd\u03bf\u03c2, as he calls\nhimself in Sophocles\u2019 play, and a sinner in the eyes of the gods; nor\ncould all the virtue and valour of Bellerophon save him from the wrath\nof heaven aroused by the accidental slaying of his brother. Certain\nacts were supposed to put upon a man a quasi-physical, quasi-spiritual\nmiasma, without reference to will or purpose, and render him hateful\nto God and man. But the bondage of the Greek mind to this idea was\nslighter and more temporary. And after all, the external sins in these\nlegends were parricide, incest, and fratricide, dreadful things enough\nin themselves. We do not hear of any Hellene\u2019s agony of remorse on\naccount of treading accidentally on filth, or eating malodorous food.\nHomer, indeed, is marvellously untroubled by any ritualistic pharisaic\ncode; we might even take him as a witness that there was none at all\nin earliest Hellas. We should be undoubtedly wrong. The early Greek\nmust have had, like all mankind, his \u201ctabus\u201d in plenty; for to suppose\nthat all that we find in Hesiod and in the later inscriptions were a\nsudden discovery, would be childish. I may be able to consider the\nevidence concerning early Greek tabus when I compare the ritual. I\nwill only say here that we have {157} reason to believe that at no\nperiod was the Hellene morbidly perturbed about these, or ever\nmoralised them up to that point where they could exercise a spiritual\ntyranny over his moral sense. He might object to touching a corpse or\nto approaching an altar with blood upon him; but it does not seem to\nhave occurred to him, as it did to the Persian, and with almost equal\nforce to the Babylonian, that accidental contact with an impure thing\ninstantly started into existence an army of demons, who would rush\nabroad to destroy the world of righteousness.[157.1]\n\nIn fact, Hellenic tabus and purification-laws, except, indeed, the law\nconcerning purification from bloodshed, had only this contact with\nreligion, that the breach of them might offend an irritable divinity,\nwhich it would be unwise to do; they were not religious, so far as we\ncan discern, in the sense that they were associated with a vivid\nbelief in evil spirits, as they were in the Babylonian and Persian\ncreeds. There were germs indeed which might have developed into a\nvigorous daimonistic theory in early Hellas. We hear even in Homer of\nsuch unpleasant things as \u201ca black K\u00e9r\u201d; and a mythic hero of Megara\nkills a monster called a \u03c0\u03bf\u03b9\u03bd\u03ae, almost, we may say, a devil. Certain\ndays, according to Hesiod, might be unlucky, because perhaps Erinyes\nor ghosts were walking about, though that popular poet is not clear\nabout this. But certainly not in early nor often in later Greece were\nmen habitually devil-ridden: nor did they see devils in food or blood\nor mud. Therefore, on the whole and comparatively, early Greek\nreligion, when we first catch a glimpse of it, appears bright and\nsane, a religion of the healthy-minded and of men in the open air. And\n{158} therefore, when secular philosophy arose, Greek moral theory\nmade no use of evil spirits except in certain Pythagorean circles\nwhere we may detect Oriental influence. Superstition and magic must\nhave been more rife in ancient Greece than the Homeric picture would\nlead us to suppose: yet the higher culture of the people, in the\nearliest period which we are considering, was comparatively free from\nthese influences and refused to develop by religious speculation or\nanxious brooding the germs of daimonism always embedded in the lower\nstratum of the national mind. The Universe could not, therefore, be\nviewed by the Hellene as it was by the Zarathustrian, and to some\nextent by the Babylonian, as the arena of a cosmic struggle between\nthe powers of good and the powers of evil. Nor could the Hellene\npersonify the power of evil majestically, in such a guise as Ahriman\nor Satan; he only was aware of certain little daemon-figures of death\nand disease, ghostly shadows rather than fully outlined personages; or\nsuch vaguely conceived personal agencies as Ate and Eris, which\nbelonged not to religion, but to the poetic-moral thought of the\npeople. When we compare the various rituals, we shall discern that the\nHellenic was by no means wholly bright or shallow, but that some of\nits most ancient forms were gloomy and inspired by a sense of sin or\nsorrow: nevertheless, it is just in respect of the comparative\nweakness of this sense that it differed most markedly from the\nBabylonian.\n\nThere are other aspects of the divine character interesting to compare\nin the religious theory of East and West. Despite the apparent\ngrimness of the Babylonian-Assyrian theology, no divine trait is more\nmovingly insisted on in the liturgies than the mercifulness {159} of\nthe deity: Nebo is \u201cthe merciful, the gracious\u201d;[159.1] Ishtar is\n\u201cthe mighty lady of the world, queen of humanity, merciful one, whose\nfavour is propitious, who hath received my prayer\u201d;[159.2] Sarpanitum\nis addressed as \u201cthe intercessor, the protectress of the\ncaptive\u201d;[159.3] Shamash as \u201cthe merciful god, who liftest up those\nthat are bowed down and protectest the weak\u201d;[159.4] Sin as \u201cthe\ncompassionate, gracious Father\u201d; and \u201cGamlat the merciful\u201d is\nmentioned as a descriptive general epithet of an unknown Assyrian\ndeity.[159.5]\n\nThese phrases may attest in the end a genuine and fervent faith; but\noriginally they were probably inspired by the word-magic of penitence,\nthe sinner believing that he can make the deity merciful by repeatedly\ncalling him so. At any rate, Babylonian religion catches thus the glow\nof a high ethical ideal; and as the deities were invoked and regarded\nas by nature merciful, so the private man was required at certain\ntimes to show mercy, as the confessional formula proves. The same\nidea, though a less fervent and ecstatic expression is given to it, is\nfound in the oldest record of Greek religion: \u201cEven the gods are moved\nto pity\u2026 them men turn aside from wrath by sacrifice, libation, and\ngentle prayers, when a man hath sinned and trespassed against them.\nFor prayers are the daughters of great God,\u2026 and if a man do them\nhonour when they come anigh him, to him they bring great blessings,\nand hear him when he prayeth.\u201d This Homeric utterance {160} in the\ngreat speech of Phoenix[160.1] is the voice of a high and civilised\nreligion; and the idea inspires the ancient cults of Zeus \u03bc\u03b5\u03b9\u03bb\u03af\u03c7\u03b9\u03bf\u03c2\nand \u1f31\u03ba\u03ad\u03c3\u03b9\u03bf\u03c2.\n\nThe Babylonian conception of divine mercy gave rise to an interesting\nphrase which is attached as a quasi-liturgical formula to many of the\nleading gods and goddesses--\u201cthe awakener of the dead,\u201d \u201cthou who\nraisest up the dead\u201d: a phrase which has erroneously been supposed to\nrefer to an actual resurrection of the dead:[160.2] various contexts\nattest its real significance as an expression of the divine grace\nshown in restoring the sick to health, in saving men from the hand of\ndeath. Hellenic religious vocabulary affords no parallel to this\nformula nor to that title of Enlil--\u201cLord of the breath of life of\nSumer\u201d;[160.3] or that of Bel, \u201cLord of the life of the\nLand.\u201d[160.4] In some passages of Babylonian literature we mark the\nglimmering of the idea that life in its varied forms on the earth is\na divine substance sustained by the personal deity. Ishtar is\ndescribed as the protectress of all animate existence, and all life\nlanguishes when she descends to the nether regions.[160.5] The\ngoddess of Erech, identified with Ishtar, speaking of her own\nfunctions, exclaims, \u201cIn the place of giving birth in the house of the\nbegetting mother, guardian of the home am I.\u201d[160.6] It is specially\nTammuz who, by the side of Ishtar, impersonates the life of the soil,\nas appears in the striking refrain recurring in his hymn of lament:\n\u201cWhen he slumbers, the sheep and the lambs slumber also; {161} when he\nslumbers, the she-goats and the kids slumber also\u201d;[161.1] and the\nsame thought may have inspired a phrase that is doubtfully translated\nat the end of the hymn: \u201cIn the meadows, verily, verily, the soul of\nlife perishes.\u201d Still more explicit is another Tammuz hymn, in which,\nwhile bewailing the departed god, they wail for all the life of the\nearth, \u201cthe wailing is for the herbs;\u2026 they are not produced: the\nwailing is for the grain, ears are not produced: the wailing is for\nthe habitations, for the flocks, the flocks bring forth no more. The\nwailing is for the perishing wedded ones, for the perishing children;\nthe dark-headed people create no more.\u201d\n\nIn all this we see the reflection of a pantheistic feeling that links\nthe living world and the personal divine power in a mystic sympathy.\nNow the idea of divinity immanent in living nature is inconsistent\nwith a severely defined anthropomorphic religion; hence we scarcely\nfind it in the earlier religion of Hellas. Zeus is called the father\nof men and gods, but in a reverential rather than in any literal\ncreative sense: nor is there found any trace of the idea that divine\npower is immanent in the life or soul of man, till we come to the\nlater period of philosophic speculation and Orphism. Only here and\nthere behind the anthropomorphism we discern in Hellenic myth or cult\nthe vaguer thought of diffused and immanent divinity; this reveals\nitself more than once in the myth and cult of Demeter, whose anger and\nsorrow at the loss of her daughter causes a sympathetic disappearance\nof the crops and the fruits of the earth; and it is embodied in the\nAttic cult on the Akropolis of Demeter \u03a7\u03bb\u03cc\u03b7,[161.2] which title\nexpresses the immanence in the verdure of {162} the life-giving\npotency of the goddess. The ancient folklore of Greece, and a few\ncult-records of the primitive village-communities, reveal figures that\nrecall faintly the lineaments of Tammuz, Eunostos of Tanagra, Skephros\nof Tegea, who may belong, as Linos certainly did, to that group of\nheroes of crop and harvest, who die and are bewailed in the fall of\nthe year, and whose life is sympathetically linked with the life of\nthe earth. But we find this type of personage in other parts of\nEurope, and there is every reason for believing that the western\nshores of the Mediterranean had not been touched by the Tammuz-myth\nand service in the second millennium B.C.\n\nThe evidence then suggests that the pregnant idea of the godhead as\nthe source of life was more prominent and more articulate in\nBabylonian than in Hellenic religion.\n\n\n\n\n CHAPTER IX.\n Purity a Divine Attribute.\n\n{163}\n\nWe may next consider the attribute of purity as a divine\ncharacteristic, to see whether in this respect the East differed\nmarkedly from the West. As regards ritual-law, all the religions of\nthe old world agree in demanding ritual-purity: the worshipper who\napproaches the deities must be free from physical taint and impurity:\nthis idea is so world-wide and so deeply embedded in primitive\nthought, that the mere presence of it is of no service for proving the\ninterdependence of any religions in the historic period. From this\nritual-law the concept naturally arises of \u201cpure gods,\u201d deities who\nthemselves are believed to be pure because they insist on purity in\ntheir worshippers. Marduk is called \u201cthe purifier\u201d in one of the\nincantation-texts, in allusion to his power of exorcising the evil\ndemon of sickness by cleansing processes.[163.1] The cathartic rules\nthat the law of ritual prescribes will differ according to the\ninstincts and prejudices of different societies. But the Babylonian\nservice demanded more than mere ritual-purity; for instance, in a\nfragment of a striking text published by Delitsch, we find this\ninjunction: \u201cIn the sight of thy God thou shalt be pure of heart, for\nthat is the distinction of the Godhead.\u201d[163.2]\n\n{164}\n\nAs regards the moral and spiritual sense of purity, the sense in which\nwe speak of \u201cpurity of heart,\u201d we should naturally include purity in\nrespect of sexual indulgence. But in applying this test to the\nMesopotamian religion we are confronted with a singular difficulty. In\nthe first place, the mythology is strikingly pure in our modern sense\nof the word, so far as the materials have as yet been put before us.\nIt agrees in this respect with the Hebraic, and differs markedly from\nthe Hellenic; the gods live in monogamic marriage with their\nrespective goddesses, and we have as yet found no licentious stories\nof their intrigues. It may be that generally the Babylonian\nimagination was restrained by an austerity and shy reverence that did\nnot control the more reckless and lighter spirit of the Hellene; or it\nmay be that the priestly and royal scribes, to whom we owe the whole\nof the Babylonian religious literature that has come down to us,\ndeliberately excluded any element of licentiousness that they may have\nfound in the lower folklore. But there is one curious exception. In\nthe Epic of Gilgamesh the hero repulses the proffered love of Ishtar,\nand taunts her with her cruel amours, giving a long list of her lovers\nwhom she had ruined: one of these is Tammuz, \u201cthe spouse of thy\nyouth,\u201d upon whom \u201cthou didst lay affliction every year\u201d: then he\nmentions her other lovers who suffered at her hands--a singular list:\na bird, a lion, a horse, a shepherd of the flock, some Babylonian\nParis or Anchises, whom Ishtar treated as Artemis treated Aktaion. We\nmust suppose these allusions are drawn from Babylonian folklore, of\nwhich nothing else has survived, concerning the amorous adventures of\nthe goddess. Hence modern accounts are apt to impute a licentious\ncharacter to Ishtar, as a goddess of violent {165} and lawless\npassion, and to connect with this aspect of her the institution in her\ntemple at Erech of the service of sacred prostitutes, attested by\ncertain cuneiform texts. In comparing the ritual of East and West, I\nshall give some consideration to this phenomenal practice. But this\nview of Ishtar is utterly contrary to that presented of her in the\nhymns and liturgies. Not only are certain hymns to Ishtar\ntranscendently noble and spiritual in tone, surpassing most of the\ngreatest works of Babylonian religious poetry, but certain phrases\nspecially exalt her as the virgin-goddess. In one of the lamentations\nwe read, \u201cVirgin, virgin, in the temple of my riches, am I.\u201d[165.1]\n\u201cThe spirit-maid, glory of Heaven: the Maiden Ishtar, glory of\nHeaven.\u201d[165.2] In a psalm to Nana, one of the by-names of Ishtar,\nshe is called \u201cVirgin-goddess of Heaven\u201d;[165.3] in another she\nspeaks of herself, \u201cshe of the pure heart, she without fear was\nI.\u201d[165.4] This virgin-character of hers must then be regarded as\nfixed by such epithets and phrases, of which more examples might no\ndoubt be found. Therefore the phrase attached to her in the Epic of\nGilgamesh,[165.5] \u201cKadisti Ilani,\u201d must not be translated as Dhorme\nwould translate it,[165.6] \u201cthe courtesan of the Gods,\u201d merely on the\nground that the same word is applied to her temple-harlots: for the\nword properly means \u201cpure\u201d from stain, hence \u201choly,\u201d[165.7] and in\nthis latter sense it could be applied to her consecrated votaries, in\nspite of their service, which seems to us {166} impure: the same word\n\u201cKedesh\u201d is used for the votaries of the same ritual in Phoenicia and\nSyria. This apparent contradiction in the conception of Ishtar\u2019s\ncharacter is sometimes explained[166.1] by the suggestion that she\nwas really a combination of two distinct goddesses, a voluptuous and\neffeminate goddess of Erech, and a pure and warlike Assyrian goddess\nof Nineveh. But there is no real contradiction; for in Babylonian\nreligious and liturgical literature the lower view of Ishtar is never\npresented at all. She is always worshipped as pure and holy; the\nlicentiousness of folklore, if there was any such in vogue, was not\nallowed to intrude into the temple-service. Therefore Ishtar is no\nreal exception to the rule that purity, even in our sense, is a\nprevailing characteristic of Babylonian divinity, as it was of the\nHebraic.\n\nBut now another phenomenon claims our interest: while being a\nvirgin-goddess, she is sometimes addressed as a mother. In the\ninscription of Sargon (722-705 B.C.) she is described as \u201cthe Lady of\nthe Heavenly Crown, the Mother of the Gods\u201d;[166.2] and in some of\nthe older hymns, which have already been quoted, she speaks of herself\nat one time as mother and at another as maid: \u201cMother who knows\nlamentation,\u201d and \u201cI am the Virgin-Goddess.\u201d[166.3] Similarly, in the\nhymn to Nana she is called in one place \u201cthe Virgin-Goddess of\nHeaven\u201d; in another, \u201cMother of the faithful breasts.\u201d[166.4] Another\ngoddess, Bau, who is eminently the mother or the wife-goddess, the\nspouse of Ningirsu or Ninib, is characterised in a hymn to the latter\ngod as \u201cthy spouse, the maid, the Lady of Nippur.\u201d[166.5]\n\n{167}\n\nFrom these phrases, then, seems to emerge the conception of a\nvirgin-mother. Only we must not press it too far, or suppose at all\nthat it crystallised into a dogma. It is characteristic of the\necstatic Babylonian imagination that in the swoon of rapture the\nintellect does not sharply hold contradictions apart, and the mystic\nenthusiasm reconciles contrary ideas as fused in one divine\npersonality. Thus even a divinity naturally and properly male, might\nbe mystically addressed as Father-Mother, for the worshipper craves\nthat the godhead should be all in all to him. Thus motherhood is the\nnatural function and interest of the goddess; therefore the Babylonian\nsupplicated his goddess as mother, even as mother of the gods, without\nthinking of any divine offspring or of any literal genealogy or\ntheogony. Virginity is also beautiful, and a source of divine power\nand virtue. Therefore the mother Bau might rejoice to be addressed\noccasionally as maid. As for Ishtar, she was aboriginally, perhaps, a\nmaid, in the sense that no god entered into her worship; and this idea\nshaped the early spiritual conception of her. But as a great goddess\nshe must show her power in the propagation of life; therefore she must\nbe recognised in prayer and supplication as a mother; the adorer\nwishing to give her the virtue of both states, probably without\ndogmatising or feeling the contradiction. This explanation appears\nmore likely, when we consider the psychologic temper of the Babylonian\npoetry, its often incoherent rapture, than the other obvious one that\nIshtar the virgin happened in many places to appropriate to herself\nthe cult of a mother-goddess, though this might easily happen.\n\nAs regards the other polytheistic Semitic races, we can infer that the\nsame religious ideas concerning ritual-purity {168} were in vogue; but\nour scanty records do not enable us to determine whether and how far\nthey were quickened by spiritual significance.[168.1] But we can\ntrace through Asia Minor the double concept of mother and virgin in\nthe personality of the goddesses; though it is difficult to decide\nwhether they ever coincided, and with what degree of definiteness, in\nthe same personage. Astarte must have been imagined generally as a\nmother-goddess, and she appears conspicuously as the female consort of\nBaal; thus her Hellenic equivalent is often given as Aphrodite; yet in\nanother aspect of her worship she must have appeared as virginal, for\nshe is also often identified with Artemis, just as a similar goddess\nAnath in Cyprus was identified with Athena.[168.2] The goddess\nAtargatis of Hierapolis, described by Lucian, was evidently a\nmother-goddess, bearing, according to him, a marked resemblance to\nRhea, and placed in the temple by the side of her husband, Bel or\nZeus. Among the Sabaean inscriptions of South Arabia, we find a\ndedication by some parents in behalf of their children to the goddess\nUmm-Attar, a name that signifies \u201cMother-Attar\u201d (or \u201cMother\nAstarte\u201d[168.3]; and a late record, too late to serve as witness for\nthe early period we are considering, speaks of a virgin-mother among\nthe Arabs.[168.4] Finally, the earliest Carthaginian inscriptions\nrecord the cult of the great goddess Tanit, addressed usually as the\n\u201cLady Tanit, the Face of Baal,\u201d and called in one dedication \u201cThe\nGreat Mother.\u201d[168.5] If she is the same as the divinity whom\nAugustine describes as the Virgo Caelestis, the {169} Heavenly\nVirgin,[169.1] then either the dual concept was mystically combined\nin the same personage, or the Carthaginian goddess was worshipped at\ndifferent times and at different seasons as the mother and then as the\nmaid. But the evidence is quite uncertain, and we must not combine too\nrashly the records of different ages.\n\nLooking at the non-Semitic races of Asia Minor, we have noted the\nmonumental evidence among the Hittites for the worship of a\nmother-goddess, who with her son figures in the procession on the\nreliefs at Boghaz-Keui. It may be she who appears on a Hittite votive\nrelief as a large seated female with a child on her knees,[169.2] a\ntype which the Greeks would call \u03ba\u03bf\u03c5\u03c1\u03bf\u03c4\u03c1\u03cc\u03c6\u03bf\u03c2. Her name may have been\nUmma; for this divine word is now given us among the names of Hittite\ndivinities in cuneiform texts recently discovered, which have been\npublished and interpreted by Professor Sayce in the _Journal of the\nRoyal Asiatic Society_.[169.3] He there connects the word with the\nAssyrian Umma = Mother, and regards this Hittite goddess as the\nancestress both by name and nature of the Cappadocian goddess M\u0101,\nfamous at Comana in the later period. Now the name M\u0101 designates \u201cthe\nmother,\u201d and yet the Hellenes identified this goddess not only with\nthe great mother Kybele, but freely with Artemis. I believe the\nexternal inducement to this latter assimilation was the isolation of\nM\u0101 in her cult, into which no god entered. From this late evidence it\nis too hazardous to infer an early Hittite virgin-mother, especially\nas the processional relief at Boghaz-Keui seems to present us with a\n\u1f31\u03b5\u03c1\u1f78\u03c2 \u03b3\u03ac\u03bc\u03bf\u03c2, the solemn union of a god and a goddess. As regards the\ngreat goddess of the Asia-Minor coast, it {170} has been somewhat\nhastily concluded that here and there her cult included the mystic\nidea of a virgin-mother. We have only some evidence from a late\nperiod, and in any case it would be a bold leap to argue back from it\nto the second millennium. But the evidence is weak. I have criticised\nit elsewhere, and I found it and still find it very frail.[170.1] I\nhave not been able to detect any clear consciousness of the idea in\nthe cult and cult-legends of Kybele: we must not build much on the\nPessinuntian story that Arnobius gives us concerning her resistance to\nthe love of Zeus, for certainly the general legend of Kybele and Attis\nis inconsistent with any dogma of the goddess\u2019s virginity, nor was she\never called \u03a0\u03b1\u03c1\u03b8\u03ad\u03bd\u03bf\u03c2 in cult. She was rather the mother-goddess, with\nwhom the worshipper himself in a mystic ritual might be united in\ncorporeal union.[170.2]\n\nIf we search the other parts of the Asia-Minor littoral, neither in\nthe prehistoric nor in the later periods before Christianity is the\nconcept we are seeking clearly to be traced. I cannot find the\nLeto-Artemis, the goddess who was at once essentially a virgin and a\nmother. What we discern in Crete is a great mother-goddess and a\nvirgin, \u1f08\u03c6\u03b1\u03af\u03b1 or Britomartis, \u201cthe Sweet Maid.\u201d That the prehistoric\nor later Cretans mystically combined {171} the two concepts in one\npersonality we do not know. When we examine legends and ritual,\nusually dateless, of early Hellas, we are aware that a goddess who was\nworshipped as a Maid in one locality might be worshipped as a Mother\nin another; or the same goddess at different times of the year might\nbe worshipped now under one aspect, now under another. Hera of Argos\nyearly renews her divinity by bathing in a certain stream. Kore, the\nyoung earth-goddess, was probably an early emanation from Demeter. How\npowerful in pre-Hellenic days was the appeal of the virginal aspect of\ncertain goddesses, is shown by the antiquity and the tenacity of the\ndogma concerning the virginity of Artemis and Athena. Yet the latter\nwas called \u039c\u03ae\u03c4\u03b7\u03c1 at Elis[171.1]. But it would be very rash to declare\nthat here at last the Virgin-Mother is found in old Greece. Athena has\nno offspring; there is neither loss nor miraculous preservation of her\nvirginity. Only the Elean women, wishing themselves to be mothers,\npray to the Virgin-goddess for offspring, and strengthen their prayer\nby applying a word to Athena of such powerful spell-efficacy as\n\u201cMother.\u201d It would be a misinterpretation of the method of ancient\nhieratic speech to suppose that Athena \u039c\u03ae\u03c4\u03b7\u03c1 was mystically imagined\nas herself both Virgin and Mother.[171.2]\n\nThe ritualistic value of purity was probably a postulate of the\nreligious feeling of early Hellas, though Homer gives us only faint\nglimpses of the idea. \u03a6\u03bf\u1fd6\u03b2\u03bf\u03c2 was an old cult-title of Apollo, and its\nroot-significance may well have been \u201cPure.\u201d We hear of Hagn\u00e9, \u201cthe\npure goddess,\u201d probably a reverential {172} name for Kore at the\nMessenian Andania:[172.1] and on the hilltop above the Arcadian\nPallantion, Pausanias records the cult of a nameless group of\ndivinities called \u03bf\u1f31 \u03ba\u03b1\u03b8\u03b1\u03c1\u03bf\u1f76 \u03b8\u03b5\u03bf\u03af,[172.2] a cult which, according\nto his account of it, appears to have descended from very ancient\ntimes. The question of purity in Greek ritual may be reserved for a\nlater stage in our comparative study. I will only remark here on the\nfact that Greek worship, early and late, was in marked antagonism in\nthis respect to Greek mythology, the former being on the whole solemn\nand beautiful, the latter often singularly impure. In fact, both in\nthe Phrygian and Hellenic popular imagination we detect an\nextraordinary vein of grossness, that seems to mark off these Aryan\npeoples sharply from the Mesopotamians, and equally, as far as we can\nsee, from the other Semites.\n\n\n\n\n CHAPTER X.\n The Concept of Divine Power and the\n Ancient Cosmogonies.\n\n{173}\n\nWe may profitably compare the Eastern and Western peoples according\nto their respective conceptions of the divine power. Looking carefully\nat the Babylonian hymns and liturgies, we cannot say that the idea of\ndivine omnipotence was ever an assured dogma, vividly present to the\nmind and clearly expressed. Any particular hymn may so exalt the\npotency of the particular deity to whom it is addressed that, in the\necstasy of prayer and adoration, the worshipper may speak as if he\nbelieved him or her to be powerful over all things in heaven and\nearth. But this faith was temporary and illusive. The power of the\ndeity in the popular creed, and indeed in the hieratic system, was\nbound up with his temple and altar. When Sanherib laid waste Babylon\nand the temples, the \u201cgods must flee like birds up to heaven.\u201d In the\nBabylonian epic the deities themselves are greatly alarmed by the\nflood. In one of the hymns of lamentation, Ishtar laments her own\noverthrow in her ruined city, where she \u201cis as a helpless stranger in\nher streets.\u201d[173.1] It is probable that the popular belief of\nBabylon agreed in this respect with that of all other nations of the\nsame type of religion; for the popular religious mind is incapable of\nfully {174} realising or logically applying the idea of divine\nomnipotence. But this at least is clear in the Babylonian system, that\nthe higher divinities acting as a group are stronger than any other\nalien principle in the Universe, from the period when Marduk, or\noriginally, perhaps Ninib, won his victory over Tiamit.[174.1] The\nevil power embodied in the demons remains indeed active and strong,\nand much of the divine agency is devoted to combating them. And the\ndemons are impressive beings, impersonating often the immoral\nprinciple, but they do not assume the grandeur of an Ahriman, or rise\nto his position as compeers of the high god. Thus the Babylonian\ntheology escapes the duality of the Zarathustrian; the god can always\nexorcise and overpower the demon if the demon-ridden man repents and\nreturns to communion with his deity by penance and confession.\n\nFurthermore, the ancient documents reveal the Babylonian deities as\nthe arbiters of destiny. Marduk is named by King Neriglassar \u201cthe\nLeader of Destiny\u201d;[174.2] and we have frequent allusions to the gods\nfixing the yearly fates at an annual meeting. Nebo the scribe is the\nwriter and the keeper of the \u201cDoomsbook\u201d of Heaven, and this book is\ncalled \u201cthe tablets that cannot be altered, that determine the bounds\n(or cycle) of Heaven and Earth.\u201d[174.3] Fate is neither personified\nnor magnified into a transcendent cosmic force overpowering and\nshaping the will of the gods.\n\nHow the other religions of polytheistic Asia Minor dealt with these\nmatters is not revealed; and the {175} comparison here, as in many\nother points, must be immediate between Mesopotamia and Hellas. Much\nthat has just been said of the former may be affirmed of the latter in\nthis respect. In Homer the pre-eminence, even the omnipotence, of Zeus\nis occasionally expressed as a dogma, and we must believe that this\ndeity had risen to this commanding position before the Homeric period,\nat least among the progressive tribes;[175.1] and throughout the\nsystematised theology of Greece his sovereignty was maintained more\nconsistently than, owing to the shifting of the powers of the cities,\nwas that of Marduk or Bel or Enlil in the Sumerian-Babylonian system.\nProbably the high idea of divine omnipotence was as vaguely and feebly\nrealised by the average primitive Hellene as we have reason to suspect\nthat it was by the average Babylonian. Also, as Hellas was far less\ncentralised than Babylonia, the efficacy of the local or village god\nor goddess or daimon might often transcend the influence of Zeus. But\nat least we have no Hellenic evidence of so narrow a theory, as that\nthe deity\u2019s power depended upon his temple or his image, or even upon\nhis sacrifice.\n\nIt has often been popularly and lightly maintained that the Hellenic\ndeities were subordinate to a power called Fate. This is a shallow\nmisjudgment, based on a misinterpretation of a few phrases in Homer;\nwe may be certain that the aboriginal Hellene was incapable of so\ngloomy an abstraction, which would sap the vitality of personal\npolytheism, and which only appears in strength in the latter periods\nof religious decay. Were it, indeed, a root-principle of Hellenic\nreligion, it would strongly differentiate it from the Mesopotamian.\n\n{176}\n\nIn thus comparing the two religions according to their respective\nconceptions of divine power, we note two striking phenomena in the\nEastern world. The Mesopotamian gods are magicians, and part of their\nwork is worked by magic. Marduk and Ea, the wise deity of Eridu, serve\nas exorcisers of demons in behalf of the other gods.[176.1] In a\npanegyric on the former, the strange phrase occurs, \u201cthe spittle of\nlife is thine,\u201d[176.2] which probably alludes to the well-known\nmagical qualities of the saliva. Eridu, the home of Ea, was also the\noriginal home of Chaldean magic. When in the early cosmic struggle\nbetween the powers of light and darkness, Tiamat, the mother and queen\nof the latter, selects her champion Qingou as leader, she proclaims,\n\u201cI have pronounced thy magic formula, in the assembly of the gods I\nhave made thee great.\u201d[176.3] In magic, great is the power of the\nspoken word, the \u03bb\u03cc\u03b3\u03bf\u03c2; and the Word, of which the efficacious force\narose in the domain of magic, has been exalted, as we are well aware,\nby higher religion to a great cosmic divine agency, sometimes\npersonified. It was so exalted in early Babylonian religion. The deity\nacts and controls the order of the world by the divine Word. Many of\nthe Sumerian hymns lay stress on its quasi-personal virtue or \u201cmana\u201d;\nand often on its terrible and destructive operation; and in one, as we\nhave seen, the goddess Nana is identified with the Word of\nEnlil.[176.4] In a great hymn to Sin,[176.5] the might of his Word\nis glorified in verses that recall the Psalmist\u2019s phrase: \u201cThe voice\nof the Lord is mighty {177} in operation.\u201d The Word of Bel-Marduk is\nsaid to be stronger than any exorciser or diviner, and is the theme of\na special hymn.[177.1] It is described in another as \u201ca net of\nmajesty that encompasseth heaven and earth.\u201d The Word of Marduk shakes\nthe sea,[177.2] as the Hebrew poet declares that \u201cthe voice of the\nLord shaketh the cedar-trees.\u201d \u201cThe spirit of the Word is Enlil\u2026 the\nWord which stilleth the heavens above\u2026 a prophet it hath not, a\nmagician it hath not,\u201d[177.3]--that is, no prophet can fully\ninterpret, no magician can control, the Word. A most potent word is\nthe name of the divinity, and the partial apotheosis of the name\nitself is a strange religious phenomenon, which also originated in the\ndomain of magic, and has played a momentous part in the Egyptian,\nJudaic, Christian, and other high religions.[177.4] It appears also\nin Mesopotamian religion. In a hymn to Enlil we find the phrase: \u201cat\nthy name, which created the world, the heavens were hushed of\nthemselves.\u201d[177.5] In the Babylonian poem of creation the primal\nstate of Chaos is thus described, \u201cno god had yet been created, no\nname had yet been named, no destiny fixed.\u201d[177.6] The gods name the\nfifty names of Ninib, and the name of fifty becomes sacred to him, so\nthat even in the time of Gudea a temple was actually dedicated to\nNumber Fifty.[177.7]\n\nNow, in the respects just considered, the earliest aspect of Greek\nreligion that is revealed to us presents a striking contrast. The\nrelations between magic and {178} religion are markedly\ndifferent.[178.1] Magic had doubtless the same hold on early Greece\nas it has on most societies at a certain stage of culture. We can\nconclude this from the glimpses of it revealed by Homer and some\nancient myths, such as the story of Salmoneus, as well as by the\nevidence of its practice in later Greece, and as such phenomena are\nnot of sudden growth we can safely believe that they were part of an\nancient tradition always alive among the people. But while Babylonian\nmagic proclaims itself loudly in the great religious literature and\nhighest temple ritual, Greek magic is barely mentioned in the older\nliterature of Greece, plays no part at all in the hymns, and can only\nwith difficulty be discovered as latent in the higher ritual. Again,\nBabylonian magic is essentially demoniac; but we have no evidence\nsuggesting that the pre-Homeric Greek was demon-ridden, or that\ndemonology and exorcism were leading factors of his consciousness and\npractice: the earliest mythology does not suggest that he habitually\nimputed his physical or moral disorders to demons, nor does it convey\nany hint of the existence in the early society of that terrible\nfunctionary, the witch-finder, or of the institution of witch-trials.\n\nHad Greek religion and mythology been deeply impregnated with\nBabylonian influences we should find it difficult to account for this\nmomentous difference.\n\nThe same reflection is forced upon us when we observe that the \u039b\u03cc\u03b3\u03bf\u03c2\nor Divine Word conceived as a cosmic power plays no part in the\nearliest Hellenic theology of which we have any cognisance (we are not\nhere concerned with the later history of the concept): nor can we find\nin the earliest Greek period the name of God exalted into the position\nof a divine creative force; {179} although, as I have shown elsewhere,\nthe earliest Hellene, as the later, was fully sensitive to the\nmagico-divine efficacy of names.[179.1]\n\nWe may also gather something for our present purpose from a comparison\nbetween the cosmogony or cosmic myths of East and West. Of these it is\nonly the Babylonian and Hebraic that can claim a great antiquity of\nrecord. What is reported of Phoenician belief concerning these matters\nis of late authority, Eusebios quoting from Sanchuniathon or Philo\nByblios, and this is too much permeated with later elements to be\nuseful here. As regards the Hellenic theory of the origin of the world\nand of man, putting aside a few scattered hints in the Homeric poems,\nwe have Hesiod for our first and insufficient witness. If we can\ndetect Babylonian influence in the Hesiodic system, we must not\nhastily conclude that this was already rife in the second millennium:\non the other hand, if Hesiod seems to have escaped it, it is far less\nlikely that it was strong upon the proto-Hellenes.\n\nFor early Babylonian cosmogony our main evidence is the epic poem of\ncreation, preserved on tablets found in the library of King\nAssurbanipal, which elucidates, and in the main corroborates, the\nfragments of the story given by Berosos in the third century B.C. Our\nearliest record, then, is actually of the seventh century, but\nAssyriologists have given reasons for the view that the epic copied\nfor Assurbanipal descends from a period as early as B.C. 2000; for\npart of it accords with an old Babylonian hymn that has been\ndiscovered.[179.2] The document is therefore ancient enough for the\npurposes of our comparison. It is well known through various {180}\npublications, and can be read conveniently in the detailed exposition\nof King in his handbook on Babylonian religion.[180.1]\n\nWhen we consider carefully the more significant features in this\ncosmogony, we are struck with its almost total unlikeness to anything\nthat we can discover or surmise in early Hellenic thought. It is true\nthat the Babylonian theory starts with the dogma that the earliest\ncosmic fact was the element of water. Apsu and Ti\u00e2mat are the first\npowers in an unordered universe, and these seem to be the personal\nforms of the upper and lower waters, the fresh and the salt. We find\nthe parallel thought in Homer, who speaks of Okeanos as \u201cthe source of\nall things,\u201d[180.2] including even the gods. But the value of such a\nparallelism is of the slightest, for the vague theory of a watery\norigin of created things appears widely diffused in the myths of\nremote peoples, for instance, North-American Indians, Aztecs, the\nVedic Aryans, and there is a glimmer of it in the old Norse.[180.3]\nNo conclusion, then, can be drawn from so slight a coincidence. If we\nknow anything of the cosmogony of the pre-Homeric society we know it\nfrom Hesiod, for Homer himself shows no interest and makes no\nrevelation on the subject. With certain reservations and after careful\ncriticism we may be able to regard some parts of the Hesiodic\nstatement as reflecting the thought of an age anterior to Homer\u2019s.\nTherefore it is of some present value to observe how little of\ncharacteristically Babylonian speculation appears in the Hesiodic\nTheogony or {181} _Works and Days_. Both systems agree with each\nother, and--it may be said--with all theogonies and religious\ncosmogonies, in regarding the primeval creative forces as personal\npowers who work either by the method of sexual generation or through\nmechanical processes of creation: the first of these methods, which\nthough mythical in form has more affinity with organic science, is\npredominant over the other in the Hesiodic narrative. But the personal\npowers are different in the two systems. In the Babylonian the\ngreatest of the primeval dynasts is Ti\u00e2mat, the sea, the mother of\nthe gods and also of all monsters: in the Hesiodic it is Gaia, the\nEarth-mother, who does not appear at all in the Eastern cosmogony, but\nwho claimed this position in the Hellenic through her deep-seated\ninfluence in the ancient religion. We note also that the Babylonian\nSea is decidedly evil, the aboriginal foe of the gods of light, a\nconception alien to ordinary Hellenic thought. Again, the Babylonian\ncreation of an ordered cosmos is a result of the great struggle\nbetween Marduk and Ti\u00e2mat, the power of light and the sovereign of\nchaos: it is preceded by hate and terror. In the Hellenic account the\ngeneration of the heavens, the mountains, the sea, and the early\ndynasty of Titan-powers is peaceful and is stimulated by the power of\nlove, Eros, who has his obvious double in the K\u0101ma or principle of\ndesire in a cosmogonic hymn of the Rig-Veda, but is not mentioned by\nthe Babylonian poet. (Nor does it concern us for the moment that this\nEros is in respect of mere literary tradition post-Homeric: we may\nsurmise at least that he was a pre-Homeric power in Boeotia.) Again,\nwhen we come to the theomachy in Hesiod, as an event it has no\ncosmogonic value at all: it has the air merely of a dynastic struggle\nbetween elder and younger divinities, {182} and the myth may really\nhave arisen in part from the religious history of a shifting of cults\ncorresponding to a shifting of population: nor are the Titans more\nrepresentative of evil or of a lower order of things than the Olympian\ndeities; and cosmic creation, so far as Hesiod treats of it at all,\nseems over before the struggle begins. On the other hand, after Marduk\nhas destroyed Ti\u00e2mat he constructs his cosmos out of her limbs, and\nthen proceeds to assign their various stations to the great gods, his\ncompeers. Thus the struggle of the god with the principle of disorder\nhas a cosmic significance which is not expressed in the Titanomachy.\nThe curious conception also that the universe was compacted out of the\ndismembered limbs of a divine personage, which reminds us of the Vedic\nstory of the giant Purusa[182.1] and of the Norse legend of Ymir, is\nnot clearly discoverable in Hellenic mythology: for the Hesiodic myth\nof the forms and growths that spring from the blood of the mutilated\nOuranos is no real parallel. And there is another trait in the\nBabylonian theory of a world-conflict that distinguishes it from the\nHellenic myths of a Titanomachy or Gigantomachy; it was sometimes\nregarded not as a single event, finished with once for all, but as a\nstruggle liable to be repeated at certain periods.[182.2] On the\nother hand, Hesiod\u2019s narrative of the oppression of Gaia\u2019s children by\nOuranos and the outrage inflicted on him by Kronos has its parallels\nin Maori and savage legend,[182.3] but none in Mesopotamian, so far\nas our knowledge goes at present.\n\nA different Babylonian mythological text from the library of\nAssurbanipal speaks of another battle waged {183} by Marduk against\nLabbu, a male monster imagined mainly as a huge snake; and Marduk is\ndescribed as descending to the conflict in clouds and\nlightning:[183.1] the legend has no obvious significance for\ncosmogony, for it places the event after the creation of the world and\nof men and cities. But it has this interest for us, that it may be the\nprototype for the legend of Zeus\u2019 struggle with Typhoeus, which is\nknown to Homer, and which he places in the country of the Arimoi,\nregarded by many of the ancient interpreters, including Pindar, as\nCilicia.[183.2] Now, the story of this conflict in Hesiod\u2019s theogony\nhas no connections with the Titanomachy or the Gigantomachy, nor is it\nthere linked by any device to any known Hellenic myth; nor is it\nderived, like the legend of Apollo and Python, from genuine Hellenic\ncult-history. It has an alien air and character. Typhoeus is on the\nwhole regarded as a monstrous dragon, but one of his voices is that of\na lion, another that of a bull. The resemblance of this narrative to\nthe Babylonian one just mentioned is striking, and becomes all the\nmore salient when we compare certain Babylonian cylinders which\npicture Marduk in combat with a monster, sometimes of serpent form,\nsometimes with the body of a lion or a bull.[183.3] The\nTyphoeus-legend belongs also essentially to the Asia-Minor shores, and\nif Cilicia was really the country whence it came to the knowledge of\nthe Homeric Greeks, it is a significant fact that it was just this\ncorner of the Asia-Minor coast that felt the arms of the earliest\nAssyrian conquerors in the fourteenth century B.C.; and it is just\nsuch myths that travel fast and far.\n\n{184}\n\nIf the hypothesis of Assyrian origin is reasonable here, many will\nregard it as still more reasonable in regard to the Deukalion\nflood-story. Certain details in it remind us, no doubt, of the\nBabylonian flood-myth; and as this latter was far diffused through\nAsia Minor, it was quite easy for it to wander across the Aegean and\ntouch Hellas. But if it did, we have no indication that it reached the\nHellenes in the early period with which we are here concerned, as\nHesiod is our earliest authority for it.\n\nThe last theme of high interest in the cosmogonic theory of ancient\nBabylonia is the creation of man. According to Berosos, this momentous\nact was attributed to Bel, who, after the victory over Chaos,\ncommanded one of the gods to cut off his head and to make men and\nanimals out of earth mixed with his own blood, and this story is\npartly corroborated by an old cuneiform text that is derived from the\nbeginning of the second millennium.[184.1] This interesting theory\nwas not universally accepted, for another and independent text\nascribes the creation of man to Marduk and a goddess called Aruru,\nsimply as a mechanical act of power.[184.2] The idea implicit in the\nformer account, of the blood-relationship of man to god, is of the\ngreater potentiality for religious metaphysic, and a similar notion is\nfound, developed into a high spiritual doctrine, in the later Orphic\nZagreus-mystery. But there is no trace of it in genuine Hellenic\nthought or literature. We have no provedly early Greek version of the\norigin of man: only, in the _Works and Days_, we are told that the\nImmortals or Zeus made the men of the five ages, the third generation,\nout of ash-trees: it may be that the story of Prometheus {185} forming\nthem out of clay was known to Hesiod, as Lactantius Placidus\nattests;[185.1] in any case we may judge it to be of great antiquity\non account of its wide vogue in the later period, and its occurrence\nin other primitive folklore. But nothing like it has as yet been found\nin the \u1f31\u03b5\u03c1\u1f78\u03c2 \u03bb\u03cc\u03b3\u03bf\u03c2 of Mesopotamia.\n\nGenerally we may say that the Hesiodic cosmogony bears no significant\nresemblance to the Babylonian, and this negative fact makes against\nthe theory of Mesopotamian influence upon pre-Homeric Hellas.\n\nAs a divine cosmogony implies some organic theory of the Universe, so\nthe polytheisms that attempted such speculations would be confronted\nalso with the problem of finding some principle of order by which they\nmight regulate the relations of the various divinities, one to the\nother. We find such attempts in Mesopotamian religion. Certain deities\nare affiliated to others, Marduk to Ea, Nebo to Marduk, though such\ndivine relationships are less clear and less insisted on than in\nHellenic theology; and the grouping of divinities shifts according to\nthe political vicissitudes of the peoples and cities. We may discern a\ntendency at times to use the triad as a unifying principle, giving us\nsuch trinities as Anu, Bel, Ea, or Sin, Shamash, Adad;[185.2] we have\nglimpses of a trinitarian cult in early Carthage,[185.3] and slight\nindications of it in the Minoan-Mycenaean pillar-ritual.[185.4] But I\ncannot find anything to suggest that among the cultured or uncultured\nSemites it was ever in the ancient period a powerful and constructive\nidea, able {186} to beget a living dogma that might capture the\npopular mind and spread and germinate in adjacent lands.[186.1] We\nhave perhaps as much right to regard the number seven as a grouping\nprinciple of Babylonian polytheism, in the later period at least, when\nwe find a group of seven high deities corresponding to the seven\nplanets.[186.2] We might discover a Hittite trinity of Father,\nMother, and Son if we concentrated our attention on the Boghaz-Keui\nreliefs; but the other Hittite evidence, both literary and monumental,\ngives no hint of this as a working idea in the religion. In fact, in\nmost polytheisms of the Mediterranean type it is easy to discover\ntrinities and easy to deceive oneself about them.\n\nThe human family reflected into the heavens naturally suggests the\ndivine trio of Father, Mother, Child. And this may be found on the\nAsia-Minor shore and in Hellas. It would be more important if we could\ndiscover the worship of this triad in an indissoluble union from which\nthe mystic idea of a triune godhead might arise. This is not\ndiscernible clearly in the older period on either side of the Aegean.\nThe cult-complex of Zeus, Semele, and Dionysos does not belong to\nancient Hellas and is rare at any period; that of Hades Demeter Kore\nis occasionally found in cults of doubtful antiquity, but usually the\nmother and daughter were worshipped without the male deity. The\nHomeric triad so often invoked in adjurations of Zeus, Athena, and\nApollo, which misled Mr. Gladstone, is due probably to the exigencies\nof hexameter verse, and is not guaranteed by genuine cult. No divine\ntriad in Hellas can be proved to have descended from the earliest\nperiod of {187} Greek religion, except probably that of the Charites\nat Orchomenos.[187.1] We have later evidence of a trinity of Zeus,\nPoseidon, and Hades, expressing the triad that Nature presents to us\nof sky, sea, and earth. But probably one of these figures is an\nemanation of Zeus himself; the sky-god having become \u201cchthonian\u201d in a\nvery early period.[187.2] We cannot say, then, that the earliest\nperiod of Hellenic religion shows a trinitarian tendency; and if it\nwere so, we could not impute it to early Mesopotamian influence, for\nthe idea of a trinity does not appear in the Eastern religion with\nsuch force and strength as to be likely to travel far.\n\nAs for the artificial group of the twelve Olympians, we should\ncertainly have been tempted to connect this with Babylonian lore, the\nnumber twelve being of importance in astronomical numeration; only\nthat the divine group of twelve does not happen to occur in Babylonian\nreligious records at all. Nor does the complex cult of the \u0394\u03ce\u03b4\u03b5\u03ba\u03b1 \u03b8\u03b5\u03bf\u03af\nappear to belong to the earliest period of Greek religion.[187.3] And\nso far I have been able to discern nothing that justifies the\nsuggestion[187.4] that the principle of unification or divine\ngrouping in early Mediterranean polytheism came from Babylon.\n\nA severely organised polytheism with one chief divinity, to whom all\nthe others were in definite degrees subordinated, might evolve a\nmonotheism. And in Babylonian literature we can mark certain\ntendencies making in this direction. One tablet contains an\ninscription proclaiming all the high gods to be forms of Marduk,\nNergal the Marduk of war, Nebo the Marduk {188} of land.[188.1] That\nall the deities were mere forms or emanations of the Eternal might\nhave been an esoteric doctrine of certain gifted minds, though it was\ndifficult thus to explain away and to de-individualise the powerful\nself-asserting personality of Ishtar, for an attractive goddess-cult\nis always a strong obstacle to pure monotheism. A particular king\nmight wish at times to exalt the cult of a particular god into a\nmonotheistic ideal; the attempt was seriously made in Egypt and\nfailed. It may have been seriously intended by King Rammannirari III.\n(B.C. 811-782), who introduced the cult of Nebo, always one of the\nmost spiritual figures of the Pantheon, into Kelach; hence comes a\nlong inscription on two statues now in the British Museum, set up by a\ngovernor in honour of the king, which is valuable for its ethical\nimport, and still more interesting for its monotheistic exhortation at\nthe close:[188.2] \u201cOh man, yet to be born, believe in Nebo, and trust\nin no other gods but him.\u201d Here is the seed that might have been\ndeveloped by a powerful prophet into pure monotheism. But the ecstatic\nBabylonian votary is always falling into contradiction, for in the\nearlier part of this hymn he has called Nebo, \u201cThe beloved of Bel, the\nLord of Lords.\u201d What, then, must the congregation think of Bel?\n\nIn Greek religion the germs of monotheistic thought were still weaker\nand still less likely to fructify. The earliest Hellenic tribes had\nalready certain deities in common, and the leading stocks at least\nmust have regarded Zeus as the supreme god. They must have also\nadopted many indigenous deities that they found powerful in their new\nhomes, whose cult could not be {189} uprooted even if they wished to\ndo so. We must therefore imagine the pre-Homeric societies as\nmaintaining a complex polytheism, with some principle of divine\nhierarchy struggling to assert itself. Homer, if it is ever true to\nspeak of him as preaching, seems certainly the preacher of the\nsupremacy of Zeus. How far this idea was accepted in the various\nlocalities of cult we have not sufficient material for deciding: much\nwould depend on the degree to which the individuals were penetrated by\nthe higher literature, which from Homer onwards proclaimed the same\nreligious tenet.[189.1] We can at the same time be sure that in many\nlocalities the countryfolk would be more under the spell of some\nancient deity of the place than of the sky-father of the Aryan\nHellenes. And though his cult was high placed by the progressive\nraces, and his personality powerfully pervading in the realm of nature\nand human society, so that the higher thinkers entered on a track of\nspeculation that leads to monotheism, the masses did not and could not\nfollow them, having, in fact, the contrary bias. The popular\npolytheism showed itself most tenacious of divine personalities; and\nowing partly to the sacred power of divine names, the various titles\nof a single divinity tend occasionally to engender distinct divine\nentities. I have also already indicated that art contributed to the\nsame effect through multiplying idols. So far, then, from displaying\nmonotheistic potentialities, Greek polytheism, from the pre-Homeric\nperiod we may suspect, and certainly after the Homeric age, tended to\nbecome more polytheistic.\n\n\n\n\n CHAPTER XI.\n The Religious Temperament of the\n Eastern and Western Peoples.\n\n{190}\n\nA more interesting and fruitful ground of comparison is that which\nlooks at the inward sentiment or psychic emotion of the different\nreligions, at the personal emotional relation of the individual\ntowards the godhead. As I observed before, a clear judgment on this\nquestion is only possible when the religious memorials of a people are\nnumerous, varied, and personal, so that some of them at least may be\nregarded as the expression of the individual spirit. Even if the\npriest or the ritual dictates the expression, the pious and frequent\nvotary may come to feel genuinely what is dictated to him. Hence we\ncan gather direct testimony concerning the ancient Babylonian as we\ncan of the ancient Hebrew religious temper and emotion; for though\nmost of the Mesopotamian documents are concerned with the royal\nceremonial, which does not usually reveal genuine personal feeling,\nyet in this case the royal inscriptions, whether religious narrative\nor liturgies or prayers, are unusually convincing as revelations of\nself. And besides these, we have many private hymns of penance and\nformulae of exorcism.\n\nOn the other hand, the ancient Western world and even historic Greece\nis singularly barren of this kind of religious testimony. We know much\nabout the {191} State religion, but we have very few ritual formulae\nor public or private prayers. Our evidence is mainly the religious\nutterances of the higher poetry and literature and a few lyric hymns\ncomposed not for the solitary worshipper, but for common and tribal\nritual-service. But we have also the mythology and the art and the\ngeneral manifestations of the Hellenic spirit in other directions that\nenable us to conclude something concerning the religious psychology of\nthe average man in the historic periods, and if we find this markedly\ndifferent from that of the oriental, we shall find it hard to believe\nthat the Babylonian spirit could have worked with any strong influence\non the proto-Hellene.\n\nA sympathetic study of the Babylonian-Assyrian documents impresses us\nwith certain salient traits of the Mesopotamian religious spirit, some\nof which are common to other members of the great Semitic race. In a\ncertain sense the Babylonian might be described as \u201cein\nGott-betrunkener Mensch\u201d: as one possessed with the deepest\nconsciousness of the ineffable greatness of God, of his own utter\ndependence, and at the same time of the close personal association\nbetween himself and the divinity. The ecstatic adoration we have\nmarked in the liturgies is the result of a purely mental\ncontemplation, will-power, and conviction, not of mystic\ninitiation--for Babylonia had no mysteries--nor of orgiastic rites\nthat could afford a physico-psychic stimulus. The individual seems to\nhave regarded himself at times as the son, more often as the\nbond-slave, of his own tutelary divinity, who is angry when he sins\nand becomes favourable and a mediator in his behalf with other gods\nwhen he repents. In private letters of the time of Hammurabi we find\nthe greeting, \u201cMay thy protecting god keep thy head well.\u201d A {192}\ncommon formula occurs in the incantations: \u201cI, whose god is so-and-so,\nwhose goddess is so-and-so.\u201d[192.1] In the penance-liturgy the priest\nspeaks thus of the suppliant sinner, \u201cThy slave who bears the weight\nof thy wrath is covered with dust,\u2026 commend him to the god who created\nhim.\u201d[192.2] With this we may compare certain phrases in a well-known\npenitential psalm, \u201cOh mighty Lady of the world, Queen of mankind.\u2026\nHis god and goddess in sorrow with him, cry out unto thee.\u2026 As a dove\nthat moans I abound in sighings.\u201d[192.3] Abject remorse, tears and\nsighing, casting-down of the countenance, are part of the ritual that\nturns away the anger of the deity: hence fear of God and humility are\nrecognised religious virtues. Merodach-Baladin of Babylon, in Sargon\u2019s\ninscription, is described as a fool \u201cwho did not fear the name of the\nLord of Lords,\u201d[192.4] and the idea is shaped in a general ethical\nmaxim in another inscription, \u201cHe who does not fear his god is cut\ndown like a reed.\u201d[192.5] \u201cI love the fear of God,\u201d says Nebukadnezar\nin the record of his life.[192.6]\n\nSuch emotion and mental attitude is consonant with the Hebraic and\nwith much of the modern religious temper; but entirely out of harmony\nwith all that we know of the Hellenic. The religious habit of the\nHellene strikes us by comparison as sober, well-tempered, often\ngenial, never ecstatically abject, but even--we may\nsay--self-respecting. Tears for sin, lamentations {193} and sighs, the\ncountenance bowed to the ground, the body cleaving to the pavement,\nthese are not part of his ritual; the wrath of God was felt as a\ncommunal more often than as an individual misfortune, and in any case\nwas averted, not by emotional outpourings of the individual heart, but\nby ritual acts, solemn choruses, soothing sacrifice and songs, or by\nspecial piacular lustrations that wiped off the taint of sin. Tears\nare never mentioned,[193.1] except indirectly in the fictitious\nlamentations for some buried hero, annually and ceremoniously\nlamented, such as Achilles. Nor can we find in earlier Hellenic ethic\nthe clear recognition of fear and humility among the religious\nvirtues,[193.2] while both are paraded in the inscriptions of the\nlater Babylonian kings, even in those that reveal a monstrous excess\nof pride.[193.3] The Hellenic god might punish the haughty and\nhigh-minded, he did not love the grovelling, but rather the man of\nmoderate life, tone, and act. Such is God for the civic religion of\nthe free man; while the Babylonian liturgy reflects the despotic\nsociety. The Hellene, for instance, does not try to win for himself\nthe favour of the divinity by calling himself his slave. And the\ncommon phrase found on the Greek Christian tombs, \u1f41 \u03b4\u03bf\u1fe6\u03bb\u03bf\u03c2 \u03c4\u03bf\u1fe6 \u0398\u03b5\u03bf\u1fe6,\nhas passed into Christianity from Semitic sources.[193.4] This single\nfact illustrates, perhaps better than any other, {194} the different\ntemper of the old Oriental and old European religions; and there is a\ncurious example of it in the bilingual Graeco-Phoenician inscription\nfound in Malta,[194.1] commemorating a dedication to Melkarth or to\nHerakles \u1f08\u03c1\u03c7\u03b7\u03b3\u03ad\u03c4\u03b7\u03c2: the Phoenicians recommend themselves to the god as\n\u201cthy slaves,\u201d the Greeks use neither this nor any other title of\nsubservient flattery. In this connection it is well to note the\nsignificance of marking the body of the worshipper by branding,\ncutting, or tattooing with some sign that consecrated him as slave or\nfamiliar follower to the divinity. The practice, which may have been\nof great antiquity, though the evidence is not earlier than the sixth\ncentury B.C., was in vogue in Syria, Phrygia, and in early Israel, and\nwas adopted by some Christian enthusiasts, but no proof of it has yet\nbeen adduced from Mesopotamia. It was essentially un-Hellenic, but was\napparently followed by some of the Dionysiac thiasoi as a Thracian\ntradition.[194.2]\n\nIn fact, it is only in the latest periods that we find in Hellas an\nindividual personal religion approaching the Babylonian in intensity.\nThe older cult was communal and tribal rather than personal; even the\nhousehold gods, such as Zeus \u039a\u03c4\u03ae\u03c3\u03b9\u03bf\u03c2 and \u1f19\u03c1\u03ba\u03b5\u1fd6\u03bf\u03c2, the gods of the\ncloset and storehouse, the hearth-goddess, were shared by the\nhouseholder in common with the nearest circle of kindred. These cults\nwere partly utilitarian, and the moral emotion that they quickened was\nthe emotion of kinship: they do not appear to have inspired a high\npersonal and emotional faith and trust. Nor usually had the average\nHellene of the {195} earlier period the conception of a personal\ntutelary divinity who brought him to life, and watched over his\ncourse, preserving, rebuking, and interceding for him. The Babylonian\nfancy of the great king sitting in infancy on the lap of the goddess\nand drinking milk from her breasts would not commend itself to the\nreligious sense in Greece.\n\nIn Mesopotamia and in the other Semitic communities the fashion of\nnaming a child after the high god or goddess was very common--commoner\nI am inclined to think than in Hellas, though in the latter country\nsuch names as Demetrios, Apollodoros, Zenon, Diogenes, point to the\nsame religious impulse; but they appear to have arisen only in the\nlater period. The Hellenic language did not admit, and Hellenic\nthought would not have approved of, those mystic divine names, which\nexpress as in a sacred text some quality or action of the divinity,\nsuch as we find in the Bible (\u201cthe Lord will provide\u201d), and in\npre-Islamitic inscriptions of Arabia, Ili-kariba, \u201cMy God hath\nblessed\u201d; Ili-azza, \u201cMy God is mighty\u201d; Ili-padaja, \u201cMy God hath\nredeemed.\u201d[195.1] Such names served as spells for the protection of\nthe child, and are speaking illustrations of the close personal\ndependence of the individual upon the god.\n\nThis is also illustrated by another fashion, possibly ancient, of\nSemitic religious nomenclature: not only was the individual frequently\nnamed after the deity, but the deity might sometimes receive as a\ncult-title the name of the individual. Of this practice among the\npolytheistic Semites the only examples of which I am aware come from a\nlate period and from the region of Palmyra: Greek inscriptions of the\nlate Imperial era give such curious forms as \u0398\u03b5\u1f78\u03c2 \u1f08\u1f50\u03bc\u03bf\u1fe6, \u0398\u03b5\u1f78\u03c2 {196}\n\u039f\u1f50\u03b1\u03c3\u03b5\u03ac\u03b8\u03bf\u03c5, \u0398\u03b5\u1f78\u03c2 \u1f08\u03bc\u03ad\u03c1\u03bf\u03c5:[196.1] and these descriptive names in the\ngenitive must designate the principal worshipper or founder of the\ncult; they are mostly un-Greek, as the religious custom certainly is,\nwhich is illustrated by such ancient Biblical expressions as \u201cthe God\nof Abraham,\u201d \u201cthe God of Jacob.\u201d We may find an example of the same\npoint of view in the Phrygian title of \u039c\u1f74\u03bd \u03a6\u03b1\u03c1\u03bd\u03ac\u03ba\u03bf\u03c5 in Pontus, if we\ntake the most probable explanation, namely, that it is derived from\nthe Persian Pharnakes, the founder of the cult;[196.2] and again in a\nCarian dedication to Zeus Panamaros \u1f08\u03c1\u03b3\u03cd\u03c1\u03bf\u03c5, as \u1f0c\u03c1\u03b3\u03c5\u03c1\u03bf\u03c2 is found in\nthe same neighbourhood as the name of a living man.[196.3]\n\nThe only parallel that Hellenic religion offers is the doubtful one,\nAthena \u0391\u1f30\u03b1\u03bd\u03c4\u03af\u03c2, whose temple is recorded at Megara:[196.4] it may be\nthat the goddess took her title from the hero because his grave was\nonce associated with the temple. In any case, it is not so striking\nthat the mythic hero should stand in this intimate relation with the\ndeity as that the living individual should.\n\nThe ecstatic and self-prostrating adoration of divinity which is\ncharacteristic of the Babylonian temper might manifest itself at times\nin that excess of sentiment that we call sentimentality: we catch this\ntone now and again in the childlike entreaties with which the\nsupplicator appeals to the deity as his father or mother; in the\npoetic pathos of the hymns to Tammuz, which sometimes remind us of the\nsentimentality {197} of some of our modern hymns: he is called \u201cLord\nof the tender voice and shining eyes\u201d; \u201che of the dove-like\nvoice.\u201d[197.1] Such language may be called \u201chypokoristic,\u201d to use a\nGreek phrase; it belongs to the feminine sentiment in religion, and we\nare familiar with it in our own service. No echo of it is heard in the\nolder Greek religious literature nor in any record of Greek liturgy.\nWe can, indeed, scarcely pronounce on the question as to the tone to\nwhich primitive Greek wailing-services were attuned. We have only a\nfew hints of some simple ancient ritual of sorrow: the pre-Homeric\nGreek may have bewailed Linos and Hyakinthos, as we hear that the\nElean women in a later period bewailed Achilles; but if, indeed, the\nfragment of a Linos-threnody that the Scholiast on Homer has preserved\nfor us is really primitive,[197.2] it has some pathos, but much\nbrightness and nothing of the Babylonian sentimentality. The spirit of\nthe Greek religious lyric strikes us as always virile, and as likely\nto be unsympathetic with the violent and romantic expression of sorrow\nor with endearing ecstasy of appeal.\n\nThe other trait that should be considered here in the religious spirit\nof the Mesopotamian Semites is fanaticism, an emotional quality which\noften affords a useful basis of comparison between various religions.\nThis religious phenomenon is best known by its deadly results; but in\nitself it is most difficult to define, as are other special moral\nterms that imply blame and are highly controversial. It is only found\namong those who feel their religion so deeply as to be relatively\nindifferent to other functions of life. We impute fanaticism {198}\nwhen the tension of religious feeling destroys the moral equilibrium\nor stunts development of other parts of our nature, or prompts to acts\nwhich, but for this morbid influence, would excite moral indignation.\nIt may display itself in the artistic and intellectual sphere, as by\niconoclasm or the suppression of arts and sciences; or in the\ndiscipline of individual life, as by over-ascetic self-mortification.\nIts coarsest and most usual manifestation is in war and the\ndestruction of peoples of alien creed. A war or a slaughter is called\nfanatical, if its leading motive is the extermination of a rival\nreligion, not for the sake of morality or civilisation, but as an act\nin itself acceptable to one\u2019s own jealous god. The ascetic type of\nfanaticism is specially a product of the Far East: the murderous type\nis peculiar to the Semitic spirit, when unchastened by a high ethical\nsympathy or a sensitive humanism; for the chief record of it is in the\npages of the history of Israel, Islam, and Christianity, so far as\nthis last religion has been in bondage to certain Semitic influence.\nIt is a question of interest whether we find fanaticism of this type\nin the Mesopotamian area and in the ancient polytheistic communities\nof the Western Semites. We might expect to find it because of the\nintensity of the religious spirit that seems to have been a common\ninheritance of all these stocks. The more fervent the worship, the\nmore is the likelihood that the dangerous idea of a \u201cjealous\u201d god will\nemerge, especially when races are living under the illusion of the\n\u201cfallacy of names.\u201d By a fatal logic of devotion, the jealous god may\nbe thought to favour or ordain the destruction of those who worship\nthe deity under other names, which meant, for the old world, other\ngods. Only this must be carefully distinguished from the other more\ninnocent {199} idea, proper to all tribal religions, that the deity of\nthe tribe, like a good citizen, will desire victory for his people\u2019s\narms.\n\nAs regards Mesopotamia, in his _History of Ancient Religions_ Tiele\nfinds in Assyrian history the same traces of murderous fanaticism as\nin Israelitish.[199.1] So far as I have been able as yet to collect\nthe evidence, this statement appears to contain some exaggeration. For\nI have not found any record of a war that an Assyrian or Babylonian\nruler undertakes at the command of a \u201cjealous god\u201d against a people\nwhose only offence is an alien worship. The motives for a war appear\nto be of the ordinary human and secular kind; Palestine, for instance,\nis attacked, not because Marduk or Asshur personally hates Jahw\u00e9, but\nbecause the country holds the key of the route to Egypt. Such Biblical\nnarratives as the destruction of Jericho, Ai, and the Amalekites find\nno real parallel in Mesopotamian chronicles. Yet in these also the\ntemper of homicidal religion is strong enough to be dangerous. Neither\nin the Babylonian nor in the Assyrian divinities is there any spirit\nof mercy to the conquered. On that early relief of Annabanini of the\nthird millennium B.C., the goddess leads to the king the captives by a\nhook in their noses to work his will upon them.[199.2] And in the\nlater records of the great Assyrian Empire, the deities appear\nprominently as motive forces, and the most cruel treatment of captives\nis regarded as acceptable to them. The worst example that Tiele quotes\nis the great inscription of Assurbanipal, who, after speaking of\nhimself as \u201cthe Compassionate, the King who cherishes no\ngrudge,\u201d[199.3] na\u00efvely proceeds to narrate how he tore out the\ntongues {200} of the rebels of Babylon, hewed their flesh into small\npieces, and flung it to the dogs, swine, and vultures; and \u201cafter I\nhad performed these acts, I softened the hearts of the Great Gods, my\nLords.\u201d But the lines that follow suggest that what \u201csoftened their\nhearts\u201d was not so much the tortures and massacres, which they might\napprove of without directly commanding, but the religious measures\nthat Assurbanipal immediately undertook for the purification of\nBabylon, whose temples had been polluted with corpses. Again,\nTiglath-Pileser III. speaks of himself as the Mighty One \u201cwho in the\nservice of Asshur broke in pieces like a potter\u2019s vessel all those who\nwere not submissive to the will of his god\u201d;[200.1] and a little\nlater, Sargon recounts how \u201cMerodach-Baladin, King of the Chaldaeans,\u2026\nwho did not fear the name of the Lord of Lords\u2026 broke the statues of\nthe great gods and refused his present to me.\u201d[200.2] Yet it would be\na misunderstanding to speak of these, as Tiele does, as if they were\nwars of religion, like the Crusades or the war against the Albigenses.\nAsshur sends the king to the war invariably, but rather for the sake\nof the king\u2019s profit and glory than for the propagation of Asshur\u2019s\nreligion; for his enemies are very frequently of the same religion as\nhimself. The above phrases must be understood probably in a political\nsense rather than a religious; the god and the king are so intimately\nassociated that whoever insults or injures one, insults or injures the\nother. We may suspect that Merodach-Baladin\u2019s breach of the divine\nstatutes consisted in his omitting to send his usual tribute to\nSargon. When two men had spoken scornfully of the gods of\nAssurbanipal, both the king and the gods would wish to avenge the\ninsult:[200.3] it was natural, therefore, for Assurbanipal {201} to\ntorture and flay them. In warring against an alien people, the king is\nwarring against alien gods; therefore if he sacks the alien city he\nmay capture and take away, or--more rarely--destroy, the city\u2019s gods.\nThus Asarhaddon had taken away the idols of Hazailu, King of Arabia,\nand of Laili, King of Iadi; but when these kings had made submission\nand won his favour he returned to them the holy images, having first\ninscribed them with his own ideogram and a mark of the might of\nAsshur:[201.1] thus the gods, having the brandmark of the great king\nand the imperial deity, become tributary divinities. Or if he wished\nto wipe a people out, the Assyrian conqueror might break their idols\nto dust. Thus Assurbanipal broke in pieces the gods of the\nElamites--the most deadly foes of Babylon--and thereby \u201ceased the\nheart of the Lord of Lords.\u201d[201.2] But many of the Elamite deities\nhe led away; and of one of them he speaks in terms of reverence,\nSa\u0161inak, the god of destiny, \u201cwho dwells in hidden places, whose\nworking no one sees.\u201d[201.3] It is more difficult to understand why\nSanherib should boast to have destroyed the deities of Babylon after\nhis capture of the city; for the leading Babylonian divinities\ncertainly belonged to the Assyrian Pantheon.\n\nThe evidence here quoted justifies us in attributing fanaticism to the\nreligious temper of Babylonia and Assyria; not because the wars were\nevangelising, undertaken in the service of religion, but because the\nsavage cruelty that accompanied them is deemed, as it is in the early\nHebraic view, acceptable to the national gods. The idea of divine\nmercy is potent in the liturgies; but neither morality nor religion\nwould appear to have inculcated any mercy towards the alien foe; and\nthis lack {202} of moral sympathy may be termed a passive fanaticism.\nThe same fanatic temper might be traced in the savagery of the\npunishments for offences against the State-religion, and was reflected\nalso at times in the legal code.[202.1]\n\nFrom other polytheistic Semitic communities we have no record, so far\nas I am aware, that bears on the phenomenon that we are considering,\nexcept the famous Moabite Stone, of which the style is in this respect\nstrikingly Biblical. Mesha regards himself as sent by his god Ch\u0115mosh\nto take Nebo from Israel, and he explains why he slaughtered all\nwithin the walls, man, woman, and child, \u201cfor I had devoted it to\nCh\u0115mosh.\u201d Fanaticism does not so naturally belong to polytheism as to\nmonotheism; yet it seems that at times the polytheistic Semites could\nbe as prone to this vice of the religious temper as the monotheistic\nIsraelites.\n\nSpeaking generally, and in comparison with the ancient Semitic and the\nmediaeval and even later spirit of Europe, we must pronounce the\nHellenic temperament of the earlier and classical period as wholly\ninnocent of fanaticism. The history of Hellas is not stained by any\n\u201cwar of religion\u201d; and no religious hierarchy in Hellas ever possessed\nthe power or displayed the will to suppress art or persecute science\nand thought. It might occasionally happen that individuals were in\ndanger of punishment if they insulted or openly flouted the civic\nworship or introduced new deities; but that the State should protect\nitself thus is not fanaticism. The least tolerant of cities was the\nenlightened Athens. But her record in this matter is a spotless page\ncompared {203} with the history of any later European State. Hellas\nowed this happy immunity to her cooler religious temper, to the\nequilibrium of the other life-forces within her, and to her\ncomparative freedom from dark and cruel superstitious fears.\n\nIt is specially in regard to such salient features of the religious\ntemperament as we have been considering that the early Hellene\nasserted his spiritual independence of the East.\n\n\n\n\n CHAPTER XII.\n Eschatologic Ideas of East and West.\n\n{204}\n\nReligions are often found to differ fundamentally in their\nconceptions of the fate of the departed spirit of man, and in the\nprominence and importance they assign to the posthumous life. There\nis, in fact, a group of religions which we might term \u201cother-worldly,\u201d\nbecause certain dogmas concerning the world after death are made the\nbasis on which their aspirations and ideals of conduct are\nconstructed; to this group belong Christianity, Buddhism, Islam, and\nthe old Egyptian creed. There are other religions, also of a highly\ndeveloped type, in which eschatologic doctrine plays no forcible or\nconstructive part either in the theology or in the ethics. Such were\nthe Mesopotamian, primitive Judaism, and the early Hellenic.\n\nOur question concerning the evidences in the second millennium of\nMesopotamian influences on the Western Aegean demands, then, at least\na brief comparison of the Sumerian-Babylonian, and Hellenic\neschatology. Our knowledge of the former is derived from certain epic\npoems, the Epic of Gilgamesh, \u201cThe Descent of Ishtar,\u201d and the poem\ndealing with the marriage of Nergal and Erishkigal, the Queen of the\ndead; secondly, from a few inscriptions of various periods, alluding\nto burial or the status of the dead; thirdly, and this is the most\nimportant source, from the recent excavations {205} of certain\n\u201cnecropoleis.\u201d[205.1] The Hellenic facts have been sufficiently set\nforth for the present purpose in a former series of lectures.\n\nIn the picture of the lower world presented by the two literatures, a\ncertain general agreement is discoverable, but none closer than they\nreveal with the conceptions of other peoples. Both accept as an\nundoubted fact the continued existence of the soul after death, and\nboth imagine this existence as shadowy, profitless, and gloomy. Both\nalso vaguely locate the abode of the soul under the earth, with a\ndownward entrance somewhere in the west.[205.2] In both we find the\nidea of a nether river to be crossed, or \u201cthe waters of\ndeath\u201d;[205.3] of a porter at the gates of \u201chell,\u201d and of a god and\ngoddess as rulers of the lower world; while the mountain of the\nBabylonian underworld on which the gods were supposed to have been\nborn was unknown to Hellenic mythology.[205.4] Such coincidences are\nno criterion of a common origin of belief; for these traits recur in\nthe death-lore of many and widely scattered races.\n\nAs against them, we must take into account certain salient\ndifferences. The lot of the departed in the Babylonian epic account\nappears drearier even than {206} in the Homeric, just as the\nBabylonian religious poetry inclines to the more sombre tones and the\nmore violent pathos. The dead inhabit \u201cthe house wherein he who enters\nis excluded from the light, the place where dust is their bread, and\nmud their food. They behold not the light, they dwell in darkness, and\nare clothed, like birds, in a garment of feathers; and over door and\nbolt the dust is scattered.\u201d[206.1] This is more hopeless than the\nHomeric meadow of Asphodel, where the souls still pursue the shadow of\ntheir former interests, and some tidings of the earth may penetrate to\ngive them joy. Also, the demoniac terrors of the lower world are more\nvividly presented in Babylonian than in Hellenic literature and art.\nThe demons of disease that perform the bidding of Allatu, the Queen of\nHell, are closely connected with the ghost-world; we learn from the\nformulae of exorcism that the haunting demon that destroyed a man\u2019s\nvital energies might be a wandering spectre. \u201cO Shamash, a horrible\nspectre for many days hath fastened itself on my back, and will not\nloose its hold upon me.\u2026 he sendeth forth pollution, he maketh the\nhair of my head to stand up, he taketh the power from my body, he\nmaketh my eyes to start out, he plagueth my back, he poisoneth my\nflesh, he plagueth my whole body\u2026 whether it be the spectre of my own\nfamily and kindred, or the spectre of one who was murdered, or whether\nit be the spectre of any other man that haunteth me.\u201d[206.2]\n\nNow it is possible that the curse of the demon was powerful both in\nthe earlier and later periods of ancient, as it is powerful to-day in\nmodern, Greece; the demon might be a ghost or a _revenant_. And it has\n{207} been the ambition of a small group of scholars in this country\nto prove that the higher literature and art of Greece, that reveals so\nfair and sane an imagination of the unseen world, is only a thin veil\ndrawn over much that was grotesque and ghastly in the popular\nsuperstition. Even Homer reveals forms of terror in Hades; and we have\nugly tales of demons sucking blood, and ravaging the land like the\n\u03a0\u03bf\u03b9\u03bd\u03ae of Megara. It is not necessary to labour this point. Probably\nevery ancient race has been sorely tried at one time or other by the\nburden of demonology; even our hardy ancient kinsmen of Iceland had\ntheir vampires and strangling ghosts, that figure occasionally in\ntheir saga. But the great peoples of our Western civilisation are\nthose who have struggled free from this obsession into the light of\nprogressive secular life. Such also--we have the right to believe--was\nthe early Greek. To draw the distinction too sharply between the\ncultured and the uncultured strata may be a source of fallacy,\nespecially when it is ancient Hellas that we are dealing with, where\nthe artist was usually a man of the people and the people certainly\ndelighted in the work of their poets, and were strangely susceptible\nto the healing influences of music. If Greek poetry, then, and art\nstrove to banish the ugliest forms of the demon-world, and thereby\nworked with purifying and tranquillising influence on the temperament,\nso much the better for the Greek peasant. It is probably wrong,\ntherefore, to regard the average Hellene as a nightmare-ridden man.\nBut we might dare to say this of the Babylonian; and his imaginary\nterrors were fostered by his religious liturgical poetry, and to some\nextent by his art. For most of his hymns are formulae of exorcisms,\nincantations against demons and spectres. But such liturgy played\nrelatively a very small part in {208} Greek ritual; and this is one of\nthe strongest facts that can be brought to witness against the theory\nof early Babylonian influence.\n\nYet both the Greek and the Babylonian feared the miasma of the dead.\nIshtar\u2019s threats at the portal of Hell, a tremendous outburst of\ninfernal poetry, is a strong witness to this feeling: \u201cThou warder,\nopen thy door, open thy door that I may enter in. If thou openest not\nthy door that I may not enter, I will crash thy door into splinters, I\nwill burst the bolt, I will splinter the threshold and tear up the\nwings of the door: I will lead forth the dead that they shall eat and\ndrink: the dead shall keep company with the living.\u201d What lends part\nof its force to this great passage is the dreadful thought that the\nliving should be haunted by the multitude of the ghosts that would\npollute the living person and the light of day.\n\nShamash the sun-god is the natural enemy of ghosts, and is therefore\nappealed to in the incantation quoted just above to drive away the\ndemon-spectres. He seems to stand here in the same relation of\nantipathy to the ghost-world as the \u201cpure\u201d Apollo stood for the Greek.\n\nThe mode and the place of burial will often throw light on the\nfeelings of the living in regard to the departed. The peoples of the\nMinoan-Mycenaean culture interred their dead, Homeric society cremated\nthem, while the recent excavations have revealed that both systems\nwere in vogue side by side throughout an indefinite period in\nMesopotamia;[208.1] and such being the facts, we cannot safely deduce\nfrom them any marked difference in spiritual beliefs. More\nilluminating is the fact that the pre-Homeric society in Greek lands\nappears generally to have buried its dead in or near their\nhabitations, {209} as if they desired the companionship of the\nspirits, agreeing in this respect with the people of Gezer in\nPalestine.[209.1] In Mesopotamia, though in very ancient times the\ndead were sometimes buried in temples, the fashion generally prevailed\nof establishing a necropolis outside the city, as was the rule also in\npost-Homeric Greece. This difference alone suggests that the fear of\nthe ghost was less powerful in pre-Homeric Greece than in Mesopotamia.\n\nIt is clear, however, that the Babylonian, like the Hellene, desired\nat times to enter into communion with the departed family-ghost; for\nin Mesopotamia, as in Hellas, we have clear trace of \u201cparentalia,\u201d\ncommunion-meals to which the ancestral spirits were invited to feast\nwith the family. In the Babylonian phrase this was called \u201cbreaking\nbread with\u201d the dead:[209.2] the parallel facts in Hellas are\nfamiliar to students.\n\nMoreover, a certain general resemblance in the funeral ceremonies can\nbe detected between the Eastern and Western peoples whom we are\ncomparing. When we examine these, we discover that neither the Homeric\nnor the Babylonian epic-picture of the desolateness and futility of\nthe life in Hades corresponded altogether with the popular faith as\nexpressed in tomb-ritual. It is true to say of all races that burial\ncustoms and eschatological theory are never wholly harmonised by any\ncoherent logic, and generally reveal discord between the dogma and the\nritual. We can note this in ancient Hellas and among ourselves; and\nthe discovery of Babylonian graves reveals it in Mesopotamia. The\nthings found in these, toys for children, cosmetics for girls,[209.3]\n{210} show that the ideas so powerfully expressed in \u201cThe Descent of\nIshtar\u201d about the barrenness and nakedness of the land of the dead\nwere either not universally admitted or not acted upon.\n\nThose who equip the dead with some of the things that were of use and\ndelight to the living must believe that the departed soul preserves a\ncertain energy and power of enjoyment, though a gloomy poet among them\nmay enlarge impressively on the emptiness of death. The unknown\nAssyrian king who describes in an inscription the sumptuous burial\nthat he gave his father may not have been of the same mind as the poet\nof the Ishtar-epic concerning the laws of the Queen of Hell:\n\n \u201cWithin the grave\n The secret place\n In kingly oil\n I gently laid him.\n The grave-stone\n Marketh his resting-place.\n With mighty bronze\n I sealed its [entrance],\n I protected it with an incantation.\n Vessels of gold and silver,\n Such as my father loved,\n All the furniture that befitteth the grave,\n The due right of his sovereignty,\n I displayed before the Sun-God,\n And beside the father who begat me,\n I set them in the grave.\n Gifts unto the princes,\n Unto the spirits of the earth\n And unto the gods who inhabit the grave,\n I then presented.\u201d[210.1]\n\nWhat is the meaning of the act of exposing the gold and silver vessels\nto the sun-god Shamash before placing them on the grave? Was it done\nto purify them by the aspect of the pure god and thus to fit them for\nthe use {211} of the glorified dead? The evidence of the deification\nof kings has been collected above. But the ceremony in question is\nunique, as far as I am aware.\n\nNo doubt in ordinary Semitic burials there was great variety in the\ngrave-offerings: in the graves of Gezer in Palestine, weapons, jewels,\nostrich-eggs, seals, scarabs, amulets, small figures in human or\nanimal form have been found.[211.1]\n\nIn these practices the primitive Hellene and Semite were on the same\nlevel, nor is it likely that either was the pupil of the other. One\nimportant difference, important at least for our purpose, we can mark,\nwhich is connected with the difference between Hellenic and Oriental\nclimate. The Hellenic ghost might take water among his offerings, and\nthe neglected soul might be pitied for being \u1f04\u03bd\u03c5\u03b4\u03c1\u03bf\u03c2[211.2]; he might\nalso eat his porridge in the Anthesteria; but he preferred wine, and\nthe offerings of blood--the \u03b1\u1f31\u03bc\u03b1\u03ba\u03bf\u03c5\u03c1\u03af\u03b1--and especially the sacrifice\nof animals. And we may gather from the painting on the Phaistos\nsarcophagus that the blood-oblation to the dead was part of the\npre-Hellenic ritual in Crete. The triple-libation, also, that Homer\nmentions, of wine, honey-mead, and water, and which the later Greeks\nretained, may be regarded as a Minoan tradition, for its great\nantiquity among the Aegean people is attested by the libation-table\nfound by Sir Arthur Evans in the cave of Zeus on Mount Dickte. Here\nthere is no trace of the teaching of the Babylonian priest: nor in the\nblood-offerings to the dead. For the Babylonian ghost, parched with\nthirst in the intolerable heat of Mesopotamia, craved not\nblood--which, as far as I know, is never mentioned in the description\nof his funeral-rites--but {212} beer in the earliest period,[212.1]\nand in the later specially water. It is water that was supposed to\nmake the deceased comparatively happy:\n\n \u201cOn a couch he lieth\n And drinketh pure water,\n The man who was slain in battle.\n His father and his mother [support] his head,\n And his wife [kneeleth] at his side.\u201d[212.2]\n\nThis is the lore that in the Epic of Gilgamesh is imparted to the hero\nby the ghost of his beloved Eabani, concerning the advantages of the\nman who gets due burial over him whose corpse is thrown out into the\nfield, and whose soul wanders restlessly eating \u201cthe dregs of the\nvessel, the leavings of the feast, and that which is cast out upon the\nstreet.\u201d\n\nThe spirit\u2019s need of water has been an ancient tradition of Semitic\ngrave-tendance. It is expressed on one of the cylinders of\nGudea;[212.3] and in the Curse of Hammurabi, which is a postscript to\nhis code of laws, he swears that if a man breaks them \u201chis spirit in\nthe world below shall lack water.\u201d[212.4] Clay-cylinders in the\nmuseums of Paris and Berlin, that doubtless come from Mesopotamian\ngraves, contain inscriptions expressing a blessing on the man who\nrespects the dead, \u201cmay his departed spirit in the world below drink\nclear water.\u201d[212.5] The old idea survives in the belief of modern\nIslam that the soul of the dead yearns for nothing so much as that the\nrains or dews of heaven should fall refreshingly on the grave.\n\nThese simple differences in the oblations incline {213} us to suppose\nthat the primitive grave-ritual of Greece was developed independently\nof Babylon.\n\nAgain, in Greece this tendance of the spirits, in the case of the\ngreat ones of the community--the king, the hero, or the priest--was\nundoubtedly linked at an early period with apotheosis of the dead; and\nactual hero-cults and actual cults of ancestors became, as we have\nseen, a salient phenomenon of Greek religion.\n\nBut if this phenomenon is to be noted at all in the Babylonian, it\ncertainly was not salient. We know that under certain circumstances\nthe king might be worshipped in his lifetime and after, but we do not\nyet know that the departed head or ancestor of the family received\nactual cult; where this is asserted by modern scholars,[213.1] it may\nbe that they have not paid sufficient attention to the important\ndifference that has been defined between the tendance and the worship\nof the dead.[213.2] This at all events, on the evidence already\nplaced before us, may be said: in respect of the frequency and force\nof hero-worship, Mesopotamia stands at the opposite pole to Greece,\nand in testing the question of primitive religious influences of East\non West this fact must be weighed in the scale.\n\nEvidence has been adduced pointing to an early Greek belief that the\nspirit of the departed ancestor might reincarnate itself in a\ndescendant: a belief fairly common among savage peoples. I have not\nbeen able to find any indication of it in Babylonian records, nor am I\naware of any trace of it among other Semitic peoples except, possibly,\na late {214} Phoenician inscription from the tomb of Eshmunazar, King\nof Sidon about B.C. 300: in the curse which he invokes against the\nviolator of his tomb he prays that such a man\u2019s posterity may be\nrooted out: \u201cMay they have no root in the world below, nor fruit\nabove, nor any bloom in the life under the sun.\u201d[214.1] These strange\nwords contain the idea of a family-tree; the fruit and the bloom are\nthe living members who are in the light of the sun: the root are the\nancestral spirits. If the figure is to be interpreted literally, we\nmust regard these latter as the source of the life that is on the\nearth, and the curse would mean \u201cmay the departed ancestors no longer\nhave the power to reappear in the living.\u201d But we cannot feel sure how\nmuch sense we can press into the words.\n\nSo far, it appears that there was little or no communion according to\nBabylonian belief between the dead and the living, except at the\nfamily sacramental meal held after the funeral. Only the vexed and\nneglected soul of the unburied or the unhallowed dead returned to\ndisturb the living. And perhaps at times the Babylonians, as the\nIsraelites, resorted to \u201cnecromancy,\u201d the evocation of the dead by\nspells, so as to question them concerning the future. One evidence of\nthis is the passage in the Epic of Gilgamesh, where the hero is able\nto evoke the spectre of his friend Eabani and question it. This was\nprobably suggested by an actual practice, which is attested by such\npriestly titles as \u201che who leads up the dead,\u201d \u201che who questions the\ndead.\u201d[214.2] In ancient Greece we have the further evidence, which\nis lacking in the Babylonian record, of actual \u03bd\u03b5\u03ba\u03c5\u03bf\u03bc\u03b1\u03bd\u03c4\u03b5\u1fd6\u03b1 or shrines\nwhere the dead were {215} consulted, and some of these may have\ndescended from the pre-Homeric period; for the evocation of ghosts\nseems to have been specially practised in Arcadia, where so much\nprimitive lore survived.\n\nAs regards the higher eschatology, it would seem that the Babylonian\nof the earlier period had not advanced even as far as the Homeric,\npossibly the pre-Homeric, Greek. For even in Homer\u2019s picture of Hades\nand the after-life[215.1] there already is found this important\ntrait--certain notorious sinners are punished, certain privileged\npersons like Menelaos may be wafted to blessedness; while in Hesiod\nthe idea is outspoken that many of the righteous and distinguished men\nof the past enjoy a blessed lot hereafter.[215.2] Moreover, this\nimportant dogma of posthumous punishments and rewards is not confined\nto the world of mythic fancy in the Homeric epic, to personages such\nas Tantalos, Tityos, Menelaos: the average man in the Homeric period\nmight not hope for happiness after death; but if Homer is his\nspokesman he could fear special punishment, and the threat of it was\nalready a moral force.\n\nThere are two striking passages in the _Iliad_, of which the\nimportance for our present question is often ignored: in iii. 278\nthere is reference to the two divinities whom, with Aristarchus, we\nmust interpret as Hades and Persephone, who punish oath-breakers after\ndeath: in xix. 259 the same function of executing judgment in the\nnether world upon the souls of the perjured is ascribed to the\nErinyes: the context in both passages {216} suggests that the poet is\ngiving voice to a common popular belief.\n\nAnd in regard to posthumous happiness, early Greece may have believed\nmore than Homer reports. For who can determine how early this\neschatologic hope came into the Eleusinian mysteries?\n\nThe \u201cthreats of hell and hopes of Paradise\u201d were never wholly\nmoralised even by later Greek thought; but here are the germs\ndiscernible in the earliest stage of the religion from which a higher\nmoral teaching and a new moral force might emanate. But those who have\ntried to discover similar ideas in the records of Babylonian\neschatology have hitherto entirely failed. Certain phrases and certain\nmythic data may be, and have been, pressed to support the theory that\nBabylonian religion and ethics were not without some belief in\njudgment and resurrection;[216.1] but it is overpressure, and the\nphrases may easily be misunderstood. No clear evidence points to\nBabylonian belief in posthumous judgment; the title \u201cgod of judgment\u201d\nattached to Nergal might have merely a political significance. Again,\n\u201cawakener of the dead\u201d is a fairly frequent epithet of many\ndivinities; but no context where it occurs suggests for it an\neschatologic intention.[216.2] In the story of Adapa, much of which\nis recovered from the Tel-El-Amarna tablets, we find reference to the\n\u201cFood of Life\u201d and the \u201cWater of Life,\u201d[216.3] that the God of Heaven\nmight have given to Adapa and thereby made him immortal; and in the\nstory of Ishtar\u2019s descent, it is said that Allatu kept the waters of\nlife in {217} hell wherewith Ishtar was restored. But nowhere as yet\nhas any hint been found that these waters of life were available for\nany mortal man, and even Adapa, the son of a god, missed getting them.\nIn the mythology of Babylon only one mortal, Utnapishtim, the\nBabylonian Noah, passes without death to some happy land and becomes\nimmortal; after the deluge Bel spake thus: \u201cHitherto hath Utnapishtim\nbeen of mankind, but now let Utnapishtim be like unto the gods, even\nus, and let Utnapishtim dwell afar off at the mouth of the\nriver.\u201d[217.1] Again, as the kings might be considered divine in\nlife, there was no difficulty in supposing that they joined the\ncompany of the gods after death, as was supposed in Egypt. The prayers\noffered to deities of the lower world by the Assyrian king on behalf\nof his father, in the tablet quoted above, may be thus explained; the\nnether powers are entreated to offer no obstacles to his apotheosis.\nOther Semitic nations may have had the same belief concerning the\nfuture blessedness of the king; at least an inscription of King\nPanammu of North Syria, vassal of Tiglath-Pileser III., points to\nthis, for his successor is urged to pray that \u201cthe soul of Panammu\nshall eat and drink with the good Adad.\u201d[217.2]\n\nBut no evidence has as yet been gathered that the ordinary Babylonian\nexpected any such distinguished lot. Nor does it appear that prayers\nwere ever offered for his soul, as they might be for the king\u2019s, and\nas they habitually were for the ordinary Athenian\u2019s in the\nAnthesteria. For the Babylonian, on the whole, the only distinction of\nlot between one person and another after death was between him whose\nghost was well {218} cared for by surviving relatives and him who died\nan outcast and was neglected. And this was no moral distinction, nor\none that was likely to engender the belief in a righteous judgment.\nThe duty to the dead was a family duty merely; nor can I find in the\nMesopotamian records any indication of that tender regard of the alien\ndead which leads in Greece to a certain higher morality, and which\ninforms Homer\u2019s pregnant phrase--\u201cit is not righteous to vaunt oneself\nover the slain.\u201d We find Assyrian kings revenging themselves by\nmutilation and exposure of their enemies\u2019 corpses;[218.1] and Semitic\nferocity and Hellenic \u03b1\u1f30\u03b4\u03ce\u03c2 are nowhere more vividly contrasted than\nin this matter.\n\nFinally, there appears a difference in character between the\nMesopotamian and the Hellenic deities who were concerned with the\nsurveillance of the world below. In the religion of the Western\npeople, the latter are as essentially concerned with life as with\ndeath; and Demeter, Kore-Persephone, Plouton, Zeus \u03a7\u03b8\u03cc\u03bd\u03b9\u03bf\u03c2, are benign\ndivinities whose sombre character is only the reverse of the picture;\nthere is a chance of development for a more hopeful creed when the\ndead are committed to the care of the gentle earth-goddess: and it was\nthrough this double aspect of Demeter-Kore that the eschatologic\npromise of the Greek mysteries was confirmed. But the Babylonian Queen\nof Hell, Allatu, is wholly repellent in character and aspect, nor do\nwe find that she was worshipped at all; the only indication of a\nsofter vein in her is the passage in \u201cThe Descent of Ishtar,\u201d which\ndescribes the sorrow of Allatu for the sufferings brought upon men\nthrough the departure of the goddess of life and love. Nergal, who is\nprobably an usurper of the older supremacy of Allatu, has indeed a\ncelestial character {219} as the upper god of Kutha, but even in the\nupper world his nature was regarded as terrible and destructive. Only\nonce or twice is the gentler Greek conception concerning the rulers of\nthe lower world found in Babylonian literature.[219.1] Enmesharra--a\nname that may be a synonym for Nergal[219.2]--is hailed as \u201cLord of\nEarth, of the land from which none returns (Aralu), great Lord,\nwithout whom Ningirsu allows nothing to sprout in field and canal, no\ngrowth to bloom.\u201d[219.3] Tammuz himself also is once at least styled\n\u201cthe Lord of the lower world.\u201d[219.4] And if Ningirsu is another name\nof the underworld-god, which is possible, it is significant that in an\nold Babylonian document the cultivator of the soil is called \u201cthe\nservant of Ningirsu.\u201d[219.5] These isolated utterances, if they had\npenetrated the popular religious thought, might have engendered a\nsofter and brighter sentiment concerning the world of death. But it is\ndoubtful if they were potent enough to effect this.[219.6] If the\ngentle Tammuz had displaced Allatu and Nergal as the Lord of death,\nBabylonian eschatology might have had a different career. But it does\nnot appear that he ever did. Deeply beloved as he was, he never\nreached the position of a high god either in heaven or the lower\nworld.[219.7] Nor did his resurrection from the {220} dead evoke any\nfaith, as far as we see at present, that might comfort the individual\nconcerning his own lot. The personality and the rites of Attis, \u201cthe\nPhrygian shepherd,\u201d are closely akin to those of Tammuz, and may be\npartly of Babylonian origin: and from these were evolved a higher\neschatologic theory that became a powerful religious force in later\nPaganism. On the other hand, in Babylonia the germs of higher religion\nin the Tammuz-ritual seem to have remained unquickened; possibly\nbecause they were not fostered and developed by any mystic society.\nFor it is perhaps the most salient and significant difference between\nHellenic and Mesopotamian religions that in the latter we have no\ntrace of mysteries at all, while in the former not only were they a\nmost potent force in the popular religion, but were the chief agents\nfor developing the eschatologic faith.\n\nThis exposition of the Eastern and Western ideas concerning death and\nthe ritual of the dead is merely a slight sketch of a great subject;\nbut may serve the present purpose, the testing the question of early\nreligious contact. We have noted much general resemblance, but only\nsuch as is found among various races of the world: on the other hand,\ncertain striking differences, both in detail and general conception,\nthat argue strongly against the theory of contact or borrowing in the\nsecond millennium. Nor can we discover in the earliest Greek mythology\na single Mesopotamian name or myth associated with the lower\nworld.[220.1]\n\n\n\n\n CHAPTER XIII.\n Babylonian, Anatolian, and Aegean Ritual.\n\n{221}\n\nA comparison of the forms observed in these regions, both in regard\nto the minute details and to the general underlying ideas, ought to\ncontribute independent evidence to the solution of our question. The\ntransmission of precise rules of ritual from one people to another,\nimplies an intercourse of some duration, and more or less regulated;\nfor while the name of a god or a single myth is volatile, and can be\nwafted down remote routes by an itinerant trader, or nomad, or hunter,\nthe introduction of any organised ritual implies, as a rule, the\npresence of the missionary or the foreign priest. If, then, there is\nany evidence suggesting that Greece in its earliest period learnt its\nritual from Babylon, the importance of this for the ethnic history of\nreligion will be great indeed. Therefore it may seem that a detailed\ncomparison of the Eastern and Western ritual is forced upon us at this\npoint: but it would be premature to expect at present any finality in\nthe result, because the Mesopotamian documents have only been very\nincompletely examined and published by the linguistic experts.\nHowever, the material that they have presented to us reveals certain\nsalient facts of immediate value for our present purpose that cannot\nbe wholly illusory, however much we may have to modify our\ninterpretation of them in the light of future discovery.\n\n{222}\n\nAs regards the Greek evidence, we are not without fairly ample\ntestimony concerning the earliest period. The Homeric poems present us\nwith the contemporary religious practices of at least a portion of the\npopulation whom we may conveniently call the Achaeans; though we have\nno right to suppose that they give us a complete account even of\nthose. Again, as ritual does not spring up in a day, and has a\nsingular longevity, we may be sure that much of Homeric ritual is a\ntradition of the second millennium. Furthermore, we can supplement\nHomer by later testimony, of which the lateness of date is no argument\nagainst the primitiveness of the fashions that it may attest.\n\nThe first superficial comparison of Mesopotamian and Aegean ceremonies\nexhibits a general similarity in the mechanism of religion; an\nestablished priesthood, temples, images, altars, prayers, sacrifice,\nreligious music, holy days, consultation of the gods by methods of\ndivination, a certain ceremonious tendance of the dead, these are\ncommon features of East and West. But if we were comparing Hellenic\nwith Egyptian or Vedic, or even Mexican and Peruvian religion, we\nshould be able to point to the same general agreement in externals,\nand many of these institutions are found broadcast over the modern\nworld of savage society. It will be more important for the present\nquestion, if when we examine the Babylonian, Anatolian, and Hellenic\nritual more minutely we discern salient differences, especially if\nthese are found in certain organic centres of the religious life such\nas was the sacrifice. And we must first try to determine whether the\nHellas of the pre-Homeric days already possessed all those religious\ninstitutions roughly enumerated above. We can deal to some extent with\nboth these problems together.\n\n{223}\n\nThe erection of temples is an important stage in the higher\ndevelopment of anthropomorphic religion. By the beginning of the\nsecond millennium B.C. this had become an immemorial tradition of\nMesopotamia. But we are not sure at what period the other polytheistic\nSemites first evolved the architectural shrine, or how long they were\ncontent to use the natural cave as the house of a divinity, or a high\nplace or \u201ctemenos\u201d with altar or sacred pillar. The recent excavations\nat Gezer have revealed a glimpse into the religion of the prehistoric\nSemites of Canaan; and one shrine that seems nothing more than a row\nof sacred monoliths, but also another that has more the appearance of\nan elaborate building of a sacred character.[223.1] Of still greater\nantiquity was the shrine that Professor Petrie has discovered at\nSerabit in the Sinaitic peninsula, an original cave-temple complicated\nwith the addition of porticoes and chambers, which he believes to have\nbeen devoted to a double cult, the Egyptian and Semitic.[223.2] At\nall events, we may conclude that before 1000 B.C. most of the more\ncultured Semitic communities in Asia Minor had come to house their\ndivinities in more or less elaborated shrines.\n\nAs regards the other race that dominated the early period of Anatolian\nhistory, the Hittite, we have the priceless evidence of the\nBoghaz-Keui monuments: these reveal a complex temple hewn out of and\ninto the rocky ravine with a \u201cHoly of Holies\u201d and what appears to be a\nsleeping-chamber for the god.[223.3] In Phrygia, the artificial\nshrine may have been late in supplanting the natural cavern or hole in\nthe rock that was once the sufficient home of the cult of the great\ngoddess.[223.4] From {224} the coast of Asia Minor we have no\nevidence concerning the site of any ancient temple that carries us\nback to the early period with which we are dealing.[224.1] But the\nHomeric poems alone are sufficient proof that the Greeks, for whom\nthey were composed, were beginning to be familiar with some\narchitectural type of the deity\u2019s habitation. Apollo Smintheus already\nhas his shrine and professional priest.[224.2] We hear of the temple\nand priestess of Athena in Troy,[224.3] of her shrine at Athens,\nwhich she shared with Erechtheus,[224.4] and the stone-threshold of\nApollo at Delphi, that guarded already many treasures within\nit.[224.5] And we also know from the excavations of the last few\nyears that the Aryan invaders from the North, the proto-Hellenes,\nwould find temples on some at least of the sites of the Minoan\nculture. Crete has preserved certain shrines of the second millennium;\nbut except the temple-cave on Dikte all of them so far are found to be\nmerely domestic chapels in the king\u2019s palace, as though the king were\npersonally responsible for the religion of the community: and so at\nMycenae, Tiryns, and Athens, the oldest temples have been found on the\nfoundations of \u201cMycenaean\u201d palaces.[224.6] But the temples of Hera on\nthe public hill of Argos and at Olympia are now dated near to 800\nB.C.[224.7]\n\nWe have, then, proof sufficient of temple-construction in Greece and\nthe Aegean islands before the period of Homer; and if we must have\nrecourse to the theory that the peoples of the Minoan-Mycenaean\nculture took {225} their cue in this important evolution from some\nforeign civilisation, we should look to Egypt rather than to Assyria,\nas nearer and more closely in touch with early Crete.\n\nWe may mark here a difference between Eastern and Western thought in\nthe religious conception of the temple. It was naturally regarded\neverywhere as sacrosanct, because permeated with the virtue of the\ndivine presence; but Babylonia developed this idea with greater\nintensity of conviction than the Hellene, and actually deified the\ntemple itself: the King Nabopolassar (_circ._ 625 B.C.) prays to it in\nsuch words as these, \u201cOh, temple, be gracious to the king thy\nrestorer, and if Marduk enters thee in triumph, report my piety to\nhim.\u201d[225.1] Such exaggeration is not found in Greek\nreligion.[225.2]\n\nAs regards the emblem of divinity, the cult-object set up in the\nshrine to attract and to mark the presence of the deity, the\nMesopotamian religion had, as we have seen, already evolved the eikon\nor image at some period considerably earlier than the second\nmillennium, and the statue of the god or goddess had become an\nimportant factor of early ritual: only the emblem of Asshur remained\naniconic.[225.3] Of equally early vogue was the image, whether human\nor theriomorphic, in Egyptian cult. Again, the early Hittite monuments\nreveal it clearly, though aniconic fetiches appear also on the reliefs\nof Boghaz-Keui. But it is probable that the Western Semites, and the\ntribes of Arabia before 1200 B.C., {226} and many of them for\ncenturies after, preferred the aniconic emblem, the \u201cAshera\u201d or post,\nor heap of stones or pillar, to the iconic statue; in fact, that\ntemple idolatry in its developed forms as it presents itself in later\nMediterranean history was alien to the old and genuine tradition of\nSemitic public worship. Iconic representations of divinities may\nindeed be found in Western Semitic regions, and some of these may be\nof great antiquity; such as the silver statue that Thutmose III. (of\nthe fifteenth century B.C.) carried off from Megiddo and the\nLebanon,[226.1] or the \u201cAstarte\u201d-plaques found on the site of Gezer.\n\nBut in Semitic communities of the earlier period such objects belonged\nrather to the private religion, and the public service centred round\nthe sacred pillar or stone, as was the case at Mecca both before and\nafter Islam arose: the evidence for this has been carefully given and\nestimated by Robertson Smith and Sir Arthur Evans.[226.2]\n\nThe same statement holds of many of the non-Semitic peoples of Western\nAnatolia; in Phrygia, for instance, the earliest emblem of Kybele was\nthe rude pillar or cone-shaped stone, and this survived down to late\ntimes in the worship of the Anatolian goddess in some of the Greek\ncities on the Asiatic coast.\n\nThe recent discoveries in the regions of the Minoan and Mycenaean\nculture reveal the same phenomenon: the cults in this area of the\nAegean in the second millennium were in the main aniconic, the\nfavourite emblem being {227} the pillar or tree-trunk, while in\nancient Crete the axe and even the cross has been found.[227.1] Where\nthe divinity appears in full human shape, as the snake-goddess in the\nchapel of the cross, the lion-guarded goddess or the god descending in\nthe air above the pillar on the Minoan seals, these figures cannot, or\nneed not, be interpreted as actual temple-idols. And students of the\nreligion of classical Greece are familiar with the ample evidence of\nthe aniconic tradition in the \u03bb\u03af\u03b8\u03bf\u03b9 \u1f00\u03c1\u03b3\u03bf\u03af, and the cone-shaped pillars\nand stocks that served as divine emblems in the later temples of\nGreece.[227.2]\n\nNow the ethnic question concerning pillar-cult has been critically\ndiscussed by Sir Arthur Evans in his treatise mentioned above; and the\nconclusion at which he arrives, that the striking parallelisms in\nSemitic Anatolian and Aegean ritual monuments are not to be explained\nas the result of direct borrowing from one or the other group of\npeoples, but as the abiding influence of a very early Mediterranean\ntradition, commends itself as the most reasonable. It is legitimate to\nmaintain that the earliest Hellenes took over much of this aniconic\ncult from the earlier Minoan and Mycenaean civilisation; but we must\nnot overlook the fact that they also possessed their own, as a\ntradition derived from Central Europe.[227.3] The most futile\nhypothesis would be to assume that the early Greeks derived it from\nBabylon, where it is less in evidence than in any other Semitic\ncommunity.[227.4]\n\n{228}\n\nThe iconic impulse whereby the tree-trunk and pillar were gradually\nsupplanted by the fully human statue was beginning to work by the time\nthat the Homeric poems received their present form; for we have in the\n_Iliad_[228.1] an undoubted reference to a seated statue of Athena in\nher temple on the Akropolis of Troy. We see here the working of an\ninstinct that was partly religious, partly, perhaps, aesthetic in its\norigin. If we are to connect it with foreign influences, Egypt is at\nleast a more \u201cproximate cause\u201d than Babylon.\n\nThis comparison of the cult-objects set up in shrines or holy places\nmust take into account the phallic emblem also. This was much in vogue\nin the worship of Hermes and Dionysos, and was not unknown even in the\nritual of Artemis.[228.2] Herodotus maintains that it was adopted by\nthe Hellenes from \u201cthe Pelasgians,\u201d but, as I have tried to show\nelsewhere,[228.3] we cannot attach real value to his induction. It\nmay have descended from an old tradition of European cult, and it was\nindigenous among other Aryan nations. As regards the Mediterranean\nraces, we find traces of its use in the Samothracian mysteries and in\nthe grave-cult of Phrygia; while some of the records of the Sabazian\nmysteries suggest that a phallic character attached to them. The\nMinoan-Mycenaean culture has been regarded as innocent of this, since\nthe phallic emblem does not appear among the monuments yet found; and\nthis opinion is somewhat corroborated by its absence in the ritual of\nAphrodite, who may be regarded as a direct descendant of the great\nCretan goddess; for only a late and somewhat doubtful text attests the\ndedication of phalloi to the {229} Cyprian Aphrodite.[229.1] But the\nevidence from the Phrygian religion, that has many ethnic affinities\nwith Crete, and from such ritual-stories as that of Pasiphae, ought to\nmake us hesitate.\n\nIn Semitic ritual the emblem was certainly not commonly in public use,\neven if it occurred at all; the evidence for it, at present\nforthcoming, is at least very doubtful; two of the pillars found at\nGezer have been supposed to possess phallic attributes;[229.2] but\nRobertson Smith has well protested against the foolish tendency to\ninterpret sacred pillars generally as phalloi,[229.3] and even\nregards Lucian\u2019s assertion of the phallic significance of the two\nsacred pillars, each three hundred feet in height, that flanked the\npropylaea of the temple at Hierapolis,[229.4] as a mistake suggested\nto him by the later Hellenic misinterpretation. Other statements of\nLucian in that treatise may cause us to believe that a phallic\ncharacter attached to some part of the ritual of the Syrian goddess;\nbut, if it did, we could not safely regard it as originally Semitic,\nsince so many ethnic strains are mingled in that complex religion.\n\nIt is doubtful whether we can recognise the emblem anywhere in the\nreligious monuments of the Hittites, though Perrot would give this\ninterpretation to one of the cult-objects carved on the relief of\nBoghaz-Keui.[229.5]\n\nFinally, its vogue in Babylonia seems to have been confined to private\nsuperstition; from the second millennium onwards it was employed as an\namulet, {230} and one of the royal chronicles, about 1110 B.C., is\ninscribed on a tablet that represents a phallos; but we cannot argue\nfrom this or any other evidence yet adduced, so far as I am aware,\nthat the emblem was used in public ritual.\n\nSo far as we can discern at present, then, the Babylonian and Hellenic\nphenomena are divergent in respect of pillar-cult and phallic\nritual.[230.1]\n\nThe most interesting part of our present inquiry is the comparison of\nthe ceremonies and the concept of sacrifice in East and West. At the\nfirst glance we note, as usual, a certain general similarity. In the\nearliest period we find various animals, both wild and domestic,\noffered upon the altars, but in Babylonia no special rules concerning\ntheir sex, such as were prescribed by ancient Greek and Judaic ritual.\nIn all these countries, again, bloodless offerings of cereals and\nfruits were in common vogue; and in the earliest Babylonian period,\nthese were of great variety, an inscription of Gudea mentioning\nbutter, honey, wine, corn with milk, figs, dates, as the food of the\ngods, \u201cuntouched by fire.\u201d[230.2] We note here the distinction\nfamiliar in Greek ritual, between \u1f14\u03bc\u03c0\u03c5\u03c1\u03b1 and \u1f04\u03c0\u03c5\u03c1\u03b1 \u1f31\u03b5\u03c1\u03ac; only in\nBabylonia it does not seem to have been of religious importance, nor\nto have been developed, as it was in Hellas, into a ceremonial law\nthat might engender an important variation in the moral ideas and\nreligious concepts of the worshipper; for instance, the altar of {231}\nApollo at Delos was called \u03ba\u03b1\u03b8\u03b1\u03c1\u03cc\u03c2, \u201cthe pure altar,\u201d because no blood\ncould be shed upon it, the sacrifices of Athena Lindia at Rhodes, and\nof Zeus in certain mystic rites of Crete, were \u1f04\u03c0\u03c5\u03c1\u03b1, or \u201cfireless,\u201d\nwhich was the technical name for the oblations of fruits and cereals;\nand this fact of ritual suggested to later Greek philosophy the\nethical-religious view that the \u201cpure,\u201d that is to say, bloodless,\noffering was the more acceptable oblation, and was a tradition of the\nage of man\u2019s innocence. This pregnant idea has not yet been discovered\nin Mesopotamian or in any other old Semitic religion; the Babylonian\ndeities received both kinds, and perhaps simultaneously, though in\ncertain special ceremonies the sacred cake, or the liquid offerings of\nmilk, honey, wine, and oil, might suffice;[231.1] while, according to\nthe ancient Hebraic view, as the legend of Cain and Abel indicates,\nthe deity appears to prefer blood-sacrifice, though each species is\nrecognised in the pre-exilic sacral literature.[231.2]\n\nThere is another distinction observed in Greek ritual, that becomes of\nsome importance in the later history of ascetic purity, that between\nwineless offerings (\u03bd\u03b7\u03c6\u03ac\u03bb\u03b9\u03b1) and those accompanied with wine: the\nformer being preferred by the powers of the lower world,[231.3]\nthough not invariably, and certainly not by the departed hero. However\nthis distinction arose--and no single hypothesis explains all the\ncases--it was not a Semitic tradition, taught in early days to Hellas.\nFor the {232} Semitic divinities, including Jahw\u00e9, have a genial\nliking for wine \u201cwhich cheereth God and man\u201d;[232.1] nor have we any\nSemitic example of a taboo on it, except possibly a late Nabataean\ninscription from the neighbourhood of Palmyra, mentioning \u201cthe god who\ndrinks no wine.\u201d[232.2] Such a phrase would certainly not apply to\nthe deities of Babylon; even the sun-god, who in Hellas appears to\nhave been a total abstainer, is offered wine in the Babylonian\nservice,[232.3] and, according to one verse in the _Epic of\nCreation_, the deities actually get drunk,[232.4] a grossness which,\nin the mythic imagination of Hellas, is only imagined as possible for\nDionysos.\n\nWe have the right to say, then, that the avoidance of wine in certain\nreligious services of Hellas helps to confirm the impression of its\nearly independence of Semitic influences. The Hellenic rule may, in\ncertain cases, have been derived from an older Aegean tradition; for\ntwo of the deities to whom it was applied, Helios and Aphrodite, may\nbe believed to have been bequeathed to Greece by the Minoan-Mycenaean\nreligion; and wine appears to have been prohibited in certain\nceremonies of the Phrygian goddess,[232.5] and of a goddess of\nCaria.[232.6]\n\nThese are differences of some importance, and doubtless of great\nantiquity between the ritual of East and West; more insignificant, yet\nof considerable value for {233} our present question, is the fact that\nincense was a regular accompaniment of the Babylonian sacrifice, but\ndid not come into religious use in Greece till some time after the\nperiod of Homer. The fact itself we may consider as proved, both by\nHomer\u2019s silence about it, and by the Homeric use of the word \u03b8\u03cd\u03bf\u03c2,\nwhich means \u201cvictim,\u201d and never \u201cincense,\u201d as in later Greek it came\nto mean. Had the influence of the Mesopotamian culture been as strong\non Greece in the second millennium as it came to be from 800 B.C.\nonwards, we should certainly have expected that the religious use of\nincense, which is very attractive and spreads easily from one race to\nanother, would have been adopted by Greek ritual before the time of\nHomer.\n\nA more essential point is the sharp contrast preserved in the Greek\nrites between the Olympian and the Chthonian ritual; a contrast that\ndemanded a difference of terminology and dictated different sacral\nlaws concerning time, manner, place of sacrifice, and choice of\nvictim. So far, I have not been able to discover any hint of this\nimportant bifurcation of ritual in any Mesopotamian record. The only\nnether-world power who was worshipped at all was Nergal, whether under\nthis or other names; and it does not appear that his worship differed\nin any essential respect from that of any other high god. In fact, the\ndualism between powers of the upper and powers of the lower world,\nwhich has been generally remarked, and sometimes exaggerated in\nHellenic polytheism, only appears slightly in the Babylonian, and\nseems to have left no impress on the divine service at all.\n\nAs regards the animals of sacrifice, the only striking divergence that\nHellenic and Semitic custom presents is in respect of the swine. The\nsanctity or horror with {234} which this animal was regarded by most\nSemitic societies[234.1] is not reflected in any record of early\nGreek feeling. Being the Hellene\u2019s common food, he offered it freely\nto the deity, though in local cults there might occasionally be a\ntaboo on this as elsewhere on other victims, such as sheep or goat.\nBut it is possible that some of the predecessors of the Hellene in\nCrete and Asia Minor, if not in Greece itself, shared the Semitic\nsentiment in regard to the pig; and the reverence paid to it in Crete,\nand especially at Praisos in later times,[234.2] may have been a\nlegacy of Minoan religion; also the Carian worship of Hemithea in\nwhich swine were tabooed may have had ancient links with\nCrete.[234.3] But the facts of swine-sacrifice or swine-reverence,\nthough they serve to distinguish the Hellenic from the ordinary\nSemitic community, do not bear directly on our present problem, the\nproofs of early Mesopotamian influence on the proto-Hellenic race. For\nthe usual Semitic taboo has not yet been found in Mesopotamia. The pig\nis mentioned in a religious text as one of the animals that might be\noffered to the gods as a vicarious piacular sacrifice, nor is there\nany hint that the animal is being offered as an unclean\nanimal.[234.4] Certainly, other animals are mentioned much more\nfrequently as victims; and I am not aware of any other text that\nmentions swine-sacrifice. It was associated in some way with the god\nNinib, one of whose appellatives means \u201cswine\u201d;[234.5] but no\nevidence is yet forthcoming that it was offered to him.\n\n{235}\n\nA question now arises of greater moment both for our present purpose\nand for the wider interests of Comparative Religion. Was the purport\nand significance of the sacrificial act the same in the Western\nsociety as that which is revealed in the sacred literature of\nBabylonia? No part of the ancient religious system has been the theme\nof so much study and speculation in recent years as the ancient\nsacrifice. Robertson Smith in his epoch-making book, _The Religion of\nthe Semites_, was the pioneer of a new theory; which has since been\ndeveloped or modified by certain English and a few Continental\nscholars following on his track. The result of these labours has been\nto formulate and define various forms of sacrifice that prevailed in\nthe Mediterranean area. Three main types appear to emerge: (_a_) the\ngift sacrifice, where an oblation is given over entirely to the deity,\nwhether generally to win his favour, or in special circumstances--for\ninstance, after sin has been committed--to appease his wrath, or as a\nthank-offering for favour received; (_b_) the communion sacrifice,\nwhere the community or the individual eat with the deity,\nstrengthening their feeling of fellowship by a common meal; (_c_) the\nsacramental type, where the community or the individual may be said to\n\u201ceat the god,\u201d that is, to partake of food or drink made sacred by the\ninfusion of the divine spirit or personality, which is thus\ncommunicated to the partaker. It is best for the present to regard\nthese three as separate and independent, without trying to determine\nwhich is prior and which posterior.[235.1]\n\nThe first type, which is almost ubiquitous in the human societies that\nhave arrived at the belief in personal {236} deities, is sufficiently\nattested by Homer of the early Greeks, who promise and perform the\nsacrifice partly as an offering to please or to appease the deity.\nWhat is more important is the evidence, which I have dealt with\nelsewhere,[236.1] that Homeric society was familiar also with the\nmore genial conception of the sacrifice as a communion-meal where the\nworshipper and the deity meet around the altar; this emerges clearly\nin the accounts that Homer has given us of an Achaean sacrificial\nfeast.[236.2] Even the germs are already visible of the idea from\nwhich the third or more mystic type of sacrifice, what I have called\nthe sacramental type, might be evolved; for special significance\nattaches to the acts described in the phrases \u03bf\u1f50\u03bb\u03bf\u03c7\u03cd\u03c4\u03b1\u03c2 \u03c0\u03c1\u03bf\u03b2\u03ac\u03bb\u03bf\u03bd\u03c4\u03bf and\n\u03c3\u03c0\u03bb\u03ac\u03b3\u03c7\u03bd\u1fbd \u1f10\u03c0\u03ac\u03c3\u03b1\u03bd\u03c4\u03bf, \u201cthey threw forward the barley-shreddings\u201d and \u201cthey\ntasted the entrails\u201d: the first phrase is not wholly clear, but it may\nsignify that stalks of barley are first placed on the altar, and\nthereby consecrated or filled with the divine virtue that is inherent\nthere, and then the beast is touched with these on the forehead and\nthereby becomes himself filled with the spirit of godhead;[236.3] the\nsecond is also a mystic act, for the \u03c3\u03c0\u03bb\u03ac\u03b3\u03c7\u03bd\u03b1 specially contain the\nlife, which is now infused with divinity, and by tasting them the\nworshippers partake of the divine life. All this arises solely from\nthe extraordinary degree of supernatural force or \u201cMana\u201d which the\naltar itself possesses, a force which may have {237} been an\ninheritance from long ages of pillar-worship, if we believe the altar\nto have been evolved from the sacred pillar.[237.1] It explains other\ndetails in the old Hellenic sacrificial act; such as the casting the\nhairs of the victim into the altar-flame,[237.2] which established a\ncommunion between the animal and the deity, the practice of solemnly\nconsecrating the lustral water by ceremoniously carrying it round the\naltar,[237.3] and charging it with a still more potent infusion of\ndivinity by plunging into it a lighted brand from the\naltar-fire.[237.4]\n\nThe communion sacrifice must then have been in vogue in pre-Homeric\ntimes; and the idea that gave it its meaning never wholly faded from\nthe State-ritual; for the rule, expressed by such formulae as \u03bf\u1f50\u03ba\n\u1f00\u03c0\u03bf\u03c6\u03bf\u03c1\u03ac, \u03b4\u03b1\u03b9\u03bd\u03cd\u03c3\u03b8\u03c9\u03bd \u03b1\u1f50\u03c4\u03bf\u1fe6, bidding the worshipper conclude the feast\nround the altar and take none of the flesh home, seems to arise partly\nfrom the feeling that the ceremony was meaningless unless he feasted\nwholly with the deity.[237.5] But it was most vividly realised in the\nreligious services of the \u03b8\u03af\u03b1\u03c3\u03bf\u03b9, the later religious orders or\nfraternities devoted each to the cult of its special divinity; for\nthese a common religious meal formed the chief binding-tie.[237.6]\n\nApart from the Homeric evidence, we have the record of the Attic\nBouphonia as attestation of the great antiquity of this type of\nsacrifice in Greece. To {238} the actual statement of the details\ngiven us by Theophrastos and Pausanias, much is added by the curious\naetiological legends that grew up around it.[238.1] We see the ox\nmarking himself for sacrifice by voluntarily going up to the altar and\neating the corn upon it, being thus called, as it were, by the god\ninto communion with himself. As he is thus full of the spirit of the\ngod, it is regarded a sacrilegious act to slay him; but all the\ncitizens partake of his flesh, and even the stranger who eats becomes\nhimself a citizen, as through this feast he enters into kinship with\nZeus Polieus. All this can be explained by the belief that Zeus\nPolieus is in the altar; and we need not resort to such theories as\nthat the ox is a totem-animal or the spirit of vegetation.\n\nWe must, however, beware of concluding that because the victim was\nthus temporarily possessed with godhead and in this holy state\ndevoured, he was therefore literally regarded as the full incarnation\nof the god, or that the worshipper consciously believed he was eating\nhis own deity who died in the sacrifice. For religious consciousness\nby no means always draws the full logical corollaries of a religious\nact. The more mystic idea, that has played a great part in the\nreligion of Europe, can only be detected or suspected, apart from\nwritten direct ancient testimony, where the animal is treated with\nreverence apart from and before his association with the altar, or is\nregarded as the habitual incarnation of the deity. The immolation and\ndevouring of such a victim would be of the true sacramental type,\nwhich Robertson Smith believed was the aboriginal form of all\nsacrifice. But we have no clear example of it from the earliest period\nof genuine Hellenic religion, unless we {239} force the evidence or\nexaggerate its meaning.[239.1] We have only certain myths that we may\ndoubtfully venture to interpret by means of this hypothesis. And these\nare no myths about animals, but about human victims devoured in\nsacrifice: the most significant is the story of the cannibalistic\nfeast held by King Lykaon, who cooked his own son and offered the\nflesh to Zeus, a ritual of which some survival, whether mimetic or\nhalf-real, was witnessed by Pausanias himself on Mount Lykaon.[239.2]\nThis would point to sacramental cannibalism, if we assume that King\nLykaon was the human incarnation of Zeus Lykaios and that his son was\ntherefore a divine infant. But it is possible that the story enshrines\nthe remembrance of the more ordinary clan-sacrifice of the life of a\nclansman to procure them communion with the clan-god by the common\npartaking of his flesh: the kinsman is offered rather than the animal,\nnot so much that the sacrificers may eat their god, but that the god\nby consuming their most valued life may be more closely incorporate\nwith them.\n\nAgain, in one of the darkest and most perplexing of Greek legends, the\nstory of Klumenos of Argos and his incestuous love of his daughter\nHarpalyke, who revenges herself by slaying her own child and offering\nit to the father in a sacrificial meal, we may discern the glimmer of\na remembrance of a cannibal sacrament. The associations of the story\ndimly indicate a Thracian origin.[239.3] And it is in the range of\nthe Greek Dionysiac {240} cult, which according to the most probable\nview was adopted from Thrace, that we find imprinted on legend and\nritual the tradition of a savage type of sacrament, in which the human\nor animal incarnation of the god was devoured. Such is the\nsignificance that we may fairly attach to the Titan-story of the\nmurder of the infant Dionysos, to the \u03c3\u03c0\u03b1\u03c1\u03b1\u03b3\u03bc\u03cc\u03c2 of the goat or bull or\nsnake periodically practised by the Bacchoi or Bacchae, and to the\ndeath of Pentheus.[240.1] And in later Greek ritual the consciousness\nhere and there survived that the victim offered to Dionysos incarnated\nthe very deity, even before it acquired the temporary mystic afflatus\nfrom contact with the altar. The record of the ritual of Tenedos, in\nwhich a sacred pregnant cow was tended reverently and the calf that\nshe bore was dressed in the buskins and then sacrificed to Dionysos,\n\u201cthe render of men,\u201d is the most piquant example.[240.2]\n\nThis Dionysiac tradition reaches back undoubtedly to the second\nmillennium in Greece; the evidence of a similar sacramental ritual in\npurely Hellenic worship is shadowy and slight, for the critical\nexamination of the Eleusinian mysteries does not clearly reveal it;\nand the growth and diffusion of the idea in later Paganism does not\nconcern us now.\n\nBut the consideration of the early Hellenic sacrifice, of which the\nsalient features have been slightly sketched above, is of signal value\nfor our present purpose. For it reveals at once a marked contrast to\nBabylonian ideas so far as these at present are revealed to us. The\nBabylonian-Assyrian liturgies, epics, and chronicles have failed to\ndisclose any other theory of the sacrifice than that which is called\nthe gift-theory. A general {241} term for the Babylonian sacrifice is\n\u201ckishtu\u201d or \u201cpresent.\u201d[241.1] The deities are supposed to eat what is\ngiven them; in the Epic of the Deluge the na\u00efve phrase occurs, \u201cThe\ngods smell the savour, the delightful savour, the gods swarm like\nflies around the sacrificer.\u201d No evidence is as yet forthcoming that\nthe sacrificer was supposed or was allowed to eat with the deity, as\nin the Hellenic communion-sacrifice. On the contrary, certain texts\ncan be quoted which seem expressly to forbid such a thing.[241.2] The\ndocument already cited that was found in Assurbanipal\u2019s library,\ncontaining the Job-like lament of the good man who had found no profit\nin goodness, contains a verse in which he compares himself with the\nsinner who neglects all religious ordinances, and who has even \u201ceaten\nthe food of God.\u201d And so we find that among the various evil or impure\nor unlucky deeds that could bring a man under the ban of the gods, the\n\u201cdevouring of sacrificial flesh\u201d is expressly mentioned.[241.3]\n\nUnless, then, documents yet to be revealed contradict this positive\nand negative evidence, we have here a fact of great weight to set\nagainst the theory that we are discussing. Whencesoever the Hellenes\nderived their genial conception of the sacrifice as a communion-meal,\nthey did not derive it from Babylon. And all Robertson Smith\u2019s\nspeculations concerning the inner significance of the Semitic\nsacrifice cannot yet be applied to Mesopotamia, whence he was not able\nto glean any evidence. In Babylonia the sacrificer got no share of the\nvictim. He might eat with the spirits of the dead in certain ritual,\nbut he was not, it appears, privileged {242} to eat with the god or\ngoddess. The deity took the victim, or the sacrifice of cereals and\nfruits, as a present, and the priest got his share. But we are not\ntold that the priest ate with the god, or where he ate; nor can we say\nthat the priest represented the worshipper.\n\nIf a true sacrament is yet to be discovered in Babylonian religion, it\nwill probably be found in some document of the Tammuz ritual. For it\nis probable that Tammuz was identified with the corn as with other\nparts of vegetation, and that the mourning for him was accompanied\nwith abstinence from bread. His resurrection ended the fast, and if in\ntheir joy the worshippers ceremoniously broke bread, they may have\nsupposed they were eating the body of their risen lord. But such a\nreconstruction of the old Tammuz ritual rests at present only on the\nindirect evidence of the later records of Attis-Adonis cult and of the\nTammuz-worship among the heathen Syrians of Harran in the tenth\ncentury of our era.[242.1]\n\nIt belongs to the Babylonian conception of the sacrifice as a gift,\nthat the animal was often regarded as a ransom for the man\u2019s own life;\nthat is to say, when sin had been committed, the deity might be\nplacated by the gift of an agreeable victim, and be persuaded to\naccept it in place of the sinner whose life was properly forfeit. For\ninstance, a sick man is always supposed to have sinned; and the priest\nwho is performing an animal sacrifice in his behalf uses the prayer,\n\u201cTake his present, take his ransom\u201d;[242.2] and the formula of a\nsacrifice offered by way of exorcism is very explicit: \u201cA male sheep,\na female sheep, a living sheep, a dead {243} sheep shall die, but I\nshall live.\u201d[243.1] Another inscription[243.2] throws further light\non the ritual of the vicarious sacrifice: \u201cTo the high-priest may one\ncry out: the kid of substitution for the man, the kid for his soul he\nhath brought: place the head of the kid to the head of the man, place\nthe neck of the kid to the neck of the man, place the breast of the\nkid to the breast of the man.\u201d Whether this solemn manipulation was\nperformed after or before the sacrifice, its object must have been to\nestablish by contact a communion between the man and the victim, so\nthat the kid might be his most efficacious representative. It thus\nbecame part of the higher ethical teaching of Babylon that \u201csacrifice\nbrings life,\u201d just as \u201cprayer takes away sin,\u201d a doctrine expressed in\na fragmentary tablet that contains a text of striking spiritual\nimport.[243.3]\n\nThe type of sacrifice that may be called vicarious must have been an\nancient as well as a later tradition in Greece; for the legends\nassociated with many sacrifices clearly attest it, explaining certain\nanimal victims as substitutes for a human life that was formerly\ndemanded by the offended deity, the vicarious sacrifice usually\ncarrying with it the ideas of sin and atonement.[243.4] The\nsubstitution might occasionally {244} be apologised for by a legal\nfiction, as, for instance, when in the ritual of the Brauronian\nArtemis the angry goddess demanded the life of a maiden, and the\nAthenian parent sacrificed a goat, \u201ccalling it his daughter.\u201d[244.1]\n\nBut though this idea is common to the Mesopotamian and Hellenic\ncommunities, they differ widely in respect of the evidence they\nafford, of the prevalence of human sacrifice. As regards ancient\nGreece, the evidence is indubitable, though much that has been brought\nby modern scholars is due to false interpretation of ritual, such as\nthe scourging of the Spartan boys; later, the human sacrifice became\nrepugnant to the advancing ethical thought of the nation, but\naccording to one authority did not wholly die out till the age of\nHadrian. On the other hand, no literary text nor any monument has yet\nbeen found that proves the existence of such a ritual in Babylonia. In\none of his biographical inscriptions Assurbanipal proclaims that he\n\u201csacrificed\u201d prisoners of war to avenge his murdered father on the\nspot where his father was slain.[244.2] He boasts of worse things\nthan this; and we can well believe that he murdered them in cold\nblood. But the {245} words by no means suggest a ceremonious\ntomb-ritual with human sacrifice.\n\nSlightly more important is a passage in a legal document, to which Mr.\nJohns[245.1] calls attention; whence it appears that a forfeit for\nreopening an already adjudicated cause was the consecration of one\u2019s\neldest child by fire to a god or goddess; and, as incense and\ncedar-wood are mentioned in the same context as concomitants of the\nthreatened ceremony, the conclusion seems natural that this was once\nat least a real threat of human sacrifice inflicted as a legal\npunishment. This legal clause gives us the right to conclude that in\nthe earliest period the Semites and Sumerians of Mesopotamia\noccasionally resorted to this rite. They would be indeed a peculiar\npeople and a favoured nation if they had always been innocent of it.\nIt is sufficiently attested by direct evidence, either of record or\nexcavation, or by the suggestion of legend, of the Arabs, Syrians, the\nearly Canaanites,[245.2] the Israelites, the Phoenicians; also of the\nPhrygians and other non-Semitic peoples of Anatolia. Yet it must be\nput to the credit of the Babylonian culture of the second millennium,\nthat the Mesopotamians had either completely or almost abandoned it.\nAt this time it was doubtless in full vogue in Greece; and certainly\nBabylon could not have been their evil teacher in this matter. But\nthey needed no teachers in what was an ancient tradition of their\nnorthern ancestors, and of the people with whom they mingled. Yet only\ntwenty years ago a distinguished writer on Greek ritual could say, \u201cIt\nis certain that the {246} Hellenes borrowed the practice of human\nsacrifice from the Orientals.\u201d[246.1]\n\nAs we discover no trace of the idea of communion in the ordinary\nBabylonian sacrifice, we are the less surprised that scarcely any hint\nis given by the sacred literature or monuments of any mystic\napplication of the blood of the victim, which was used for so many\npurposes of communion-ritual by the early Hellenes and Hebrews. I can\nfind no other evidence for this in Mesopotamia except one passage\nquoted by Zimmern,[246.2] in which the sacrificer is ordered to\nsprinkle some part of the door with the blood of the lamb. It is not\nprobable that the Babylonians were incapable of the notion that by\nphysical contact with certain sacred objects a temporary communion\ncould be established between the mortal and the divinity: it appears,\nfor instance, in one of the formulae of the purification-ritual--\u201cMay\nthe torch of the Fire-god cleanse me\u201d[246.3]--in the yearly practice\nof the king grasping the hands of the idol of the god, perhaps in the\ncustom of attaching the worshipper to the deity with a cord,[246.4]\nand in the diviner\u2019s habit of grasping the cedar-staff, which is\ncalled \u201cthe beloved of the gods.\u201d[246.5] But it may be that they\nnever applied this notion to the sacrifice, so as to evolve the\ninstitution of the communion-meal; or they may have evolved it in\nearly times, and through long ages {247} of power the priests may have\nbecome strong enough to suppress it and to substitute for it the\ngift-ritual, which would be more profitable for themselves. It accords\nwith this absence of any mystic significance in the sacrifice that we\ndo not find in the Babylonian service any mystic use of the\nsacrificial skins, of which some evidence can be gathered from various\ndetails of Greek ritual.[247.1]\n\nAgain, the Babylonian records have so far failed to reveal any\nevidence for any such public ceremony as the sending forth of the\nscapegoat, whether human or animal, charged with the sins of the\ncommunity. This ritual was common to the Hellenes, Egyptians, and\nHebrews, and probably to other Semitic communities.[247.2] The idea\nof sin-transference on which it rests was familiar enough to the\nancient Babylonian; but he seems only to have built upon this a\nprivate system of exorcism and purgation of sin and disease for the\nindividual. As far as we know, it did not occur to him to effect by\nthis method a solemn annual expulsion of all the sins of the nation.\n\nOn the other hand, there is another type of sacrifice common to\nBabylonia and Greece, by which an oath or an engagement might be\ncemented: the animal is slaughtered with an imprecation that the same\nfate may befall him who breaks his oath or violates the compact.\nZimmern quotes a good example of this, relating to the compact made\nbetween the Assyrian king Assurnirari {248} and Mati\u2019ilu, prince of\nArpad:[248.1] a sheep is sacrificed and the formula pronounced: \u201cThis\nhead is not the head of a sheep, it is the head of Mati\u2019ilu, of his\nsons, of his great ones, of the people of his land. If Mati\u2019ilu breaks\nthis oath, the head of Mati\u2019ilu will be cut off, like the head of this\nsheep.\u201d The same idea underlies the oath-sacrifice in the\n_Iliad_,[248.2] though it is not expressed with such na\u00efve\nmake-believe or such logic in the detail; but as the beast is\nslaughtered or wine poured, a curse is uttered invoking on the\nperjured a similar fate, or with a prayer that \u201chis brains may be\npoured out like this wine.\u201d The original idea is magical: the symbolic\nexplanation is later. Another parallel is the Latin oath over the\nstone.[248.3]\n\nSuch resemblance in special forms by no means weakens the impression\nthat we receive from the striking differences discernible in the\nBabylonian and Hellenic significance of sacrifice. To those already\nnoted we may add yet another, which concerns the association of\nsacrifice with divination. It is Professor Jastrow\u2019s opinion[248.4]\nthat the chief motive of the Babylonian sacrifice was the inspection\nof the liver of the victim, from the markings of which the skilled\nexpert could interpret the future by a conventional system revealed to\nus in certain ancient Babylonian documents. This superstition is so\nelaborate and artificial that if we find it in adjacent countries, it\nis more reasonable to suppose that one borrowed it from the other,\nthan that it was developed independently in each. We find it in later\nGreece, Etruria, and Rome; but the evidence of the Homeric poems\nsuggests that it was unknown to the {249} Hellenes of the earlier\nperiod. They are very likely to have borrowed it from Babylonian\nsources in post-Homeric times; and we note here, as in other cases\nwhere the influence of Babylon upon Greece can be reasonably posited,\nit reaches the western shores of the Aegean at a post-Homeric rather\nthan a pre-Homeric epoch.\n\nThe comparative study of Mesopotamian and Hellenic sacrifice confronts\nus finally with another problem belonging to the history of religions,\nand one of the greatest, the dogma of the death of the divinity and\nthe origin and significance of that belief. For where the mystic type\nof communion-sacrifice is found, where the animal that is slain for\nthe sacrament is regarded as the incarnation of the deity, the\ndivinity may be supposed himself to die temporarily, doubtless to rise\nagain to life, either immediately or at some subsequent festival. This\nmomentous conclusion need not always have been drawn, for religious\nlogic is not often persistently thorough, nor does the evolution of\nthe idea belong necessarily to the sphere of totemism, as Robertson\nSmith supposed, and M. Reinach is still inclined to maintain. It is\nnot my concern here to discuss the totemistic hypothesis, but I may\npoint out that in the rare examples where the totem-animal is slain,\nit is not clear that it is slain as a divinity.\n\nAgain, the belief in the periodic death of a deity might arise\nindependently of the sacrifice, namely, from the essential idea of the\ngodhead itself, when the divine life is identified with the annual\nlife of vegetation: the phenomena of nature in autumn and spring may\nsuggest to the worshipper the annual death and resurrection of the god\nor goddess. It is important to note that in this, as in the other\nsource of the belief, the conclusion need not always have been drawn,\nfor the vegetation-deity {250} might be supposed not to die in autumn\nor winter, but merely to disappear, and the story of his or her\ndisappearance need not carry the same religious consequences as the\nstory of the divine death.\n\nThe immolation of the divine victim in a communion-service, wherein\nthe worshippers partake symbolically or realistically of the divine\nflesh and blood, though suggested by a thought that we must call\nsavage, may be pregnant with consequences momentous for higher\nreligion, as the history of Christian dogma attests. And even the\nannual death of the nature-god may be raised to a higher significance\nthan its mere nature-meaning, and may be linked with the promise of\nhuman immortality.\n\nWe may note, finally, that a religion which expresses in its ritual\nthe idea of the deity\u2019s death and resurrection is likely to be charged\nwith a stronger emotional force than one that lacks it; for the two\nevents will excite an ecstasy of sorrow and of joy in the believer.\n\nAs the phenomenon, then, is of such importance, it is necessary to be\ncritical and unbiased in the collection of statistics. Our present\nfield of inquiry is the Eastern and Western Mediterranean area; and\nhere our conspicuous example is the ancient Sumerian-Babylonian ritual\nof Tammuz,[250.1] a folk-service of lamentation and rapture,\npsychologically akin in many respects to Christianity, and of most\npowerful appeal.\n\nThe Tammuz hymns preserved to us are of the highest Babylonian poetry,\nand though they are chiefly litanies of lamentation, sorrowing over\nthe death of the young god, yet one or two echoes are heard at their\nclose of the rapturous rejoicing over his resurrection.[251.1] {251}\nWith them is associated the story of the descent of his consort\nIshtar, or of his goddess-sister; another great motive of the\nreligious imagination which neighbouring peoples and faiths were quick\nto capture and adapt to their own religious use. We have seen[251.2]\nthat the evidence is clear that the life of Tammuz is the life of the\ncrops and fruits; and we discern a pure nature-religion unmoralised\nand without dogma, but evoking a mood and a sentiment that might\nsupply the motive force to more complex and more spiritual creeds. It\nwas not suited to the religious atmosphere of the Assyrian and\nBabylonian courts; but its influence spread far through Asia Minor. It\ncaptivated the other polytheistic Semites, and at times, as Ezekiel\nshows us, the women of Israel, revealing to these latter, no doubt, a\nvein of religious sentiment unknown in the austere Mosaic monotheism.\nThe ritual of Adonis is mainly borrowed from the Tammuz service. For\ninstance, the rite of planting the short-lived \u201cgarden of Adonis,\u201d of\nwhich possibly the earliest record is in Isaiah xvii. 10, appears to\nbe alluded to in a verse of a Tammuz hymn.[251.3] The figure of\nTammuz is primevally Sumerian; therefore the diffusion of his cult\namong the various Semitic communities does not enable us to conclude\nthat the death and resurrection of a divinity is an aboriginal Semitic\ntradition. As regards other evidence on the strength of which this\ndogma has been attributed to them by some scholars, it is of late\nauthority and of doubtful validity. Josephus[251.4] tells us that at\nTyre the {252} resurrection of Herakles was once celebrated by Hiram;\nbut this might well be a derivative of the non-Semitic Sandon cult of\nTarsos, which will be considered below. And the legend of the death of\nDido at Carthage, even if there is no doubt that the queen was\noriginally the great goddess of Tyre, is no sufficient proof of a\nPhoenician ritual in which the divinity died annually.\n\nBut as regards the non-Semitic peoples of anterior Asia, the question\nof borrowing is more difficult to answer with certainty.\n\nNo Hittite monument nor any Hittite text has as yet revealed to us any\nfigure that we can identify with Tammuz. But certain indications\nincline us to believe that the idea of the death of the god was not\nunfamiliar to the Hittite religion or to some of the communities under\nHittite influence. On the Boghaz-Keui relief we have noted the\npresence in the religious procession of those mysterious animals,\ncalves, or bulls, wearing caps of peculiar Hittite fashion.[252.1]\nAre not these \u201ctheanthropic animals\u201d to be sacrificed as a\ncommunion-link between man and God? We know that the bull was\nworshipped as an incarnation of a Hittite deity; and therefore from\nthe sacrifice of the bull might emerge the dogma that the deity\nceremoniously died at certain periods. From the sanctity of the bull\nin ancient Hittite cult-centres may have descended the mystic\ncommunion {253} rite of the Taurobolion or Tauropolion, which Cumont\nhas shown good reason for supposing to have arisen in the worship of\nthe Persian Anahita, and to have been adopted into the service of\nKybele.[253.1]\n\nMore direct evidence is to be gleaned from the cult of Sandon or\nSandes of Tarsos, a city which was once within the area of Hittite\nculture. The god of Tarsos comes later to be identified with the\nTyrian Baal and the Hellenic Herakles; and the legend of the death of\nthe latter hero may be an echo of a \u1f31\u03b5\u03c1\u1f78\u03c2 \u03bb\u03cc\u03b3\u03bf\u03c2 of Tarsos, inspired by\nan annual rite in which the god of the city was consumed on a funeral\npyre, and was supposed to rise again from the flames in the form of an\neagle.[253.2] The later Tarsian coins display the image of the god,\nthe pyre, the eagle, the double-headed axe, and the lion;[253.3] and\nthe last three of these symbols belong to the oldest religious art of\nthe Hittites. The proof would be complete if it could be shown that\nthe name Sandon or Sandes belongs to the Hittite language. All we know\nat present is that it is not a Babylonian or Sumerian word, or found\nin the vocabulary of any Semitic people. Prof. Sayce believes himself\nto have found it in a cuneiform inscription of Boghaz-Keui. This would\nbe the direct proof that we require; but the word that he\ntransliterates as Sandes is said to be the ideogram of Hadad, the\nSyrian Semitic god, and that Hadad is used as the Semitic equivalent\nof Sandes is merely a conjuncture.[253.4]\n\nA still clearer and more striking example of the phenomenon with which\nwe are dealing is the Phrygian {254} and Lydian cult and legend of\nAttis. The various and often conflicting details in the story of his\nbirth, life, and death, the various elements in his cult, are known to\nus from late sources; the consideration of the whole question would\nnot be relevant here; but it is necessary for our purpose to\ndetermine, if possible, what are the aboriginal motives of the myth\nand cult. It seems likely that the earliest form of the Phrygian\nreligion was the worship of the great mother-goddess, coupled with a\nson or lover,[254.1] a young and beautiful god who dies prematurely,\nand whose death was bewailed in an annual ritual, whose resurrection\nwas presented in a subsequent or accompanying service. Of the death\nand the lamentation we have older evidence than for the resurrection\nand the rejoicing, but the one seems to be a necessary complement of\nthe other. The family likeness of Attis to Tammuz strikes us at first\nsight. As Tammuz appears as a young vegetation deity, identified\npartly with the life of trees, partly with the corn, so Attis in the\nPhrygian legend and ritual is presented as a tree-divinity, and in the\nverse of a late hymn, which is inspired by an ancient tradition, is\ninvoked as \u201cthe corn cut by the reaper.\u201d\n\nAnd these two personalities of the Sumerian and Phrygian religions\nevoked the same psychologic sentiment, sorrowful, romantic, and\nyearning. The hypothesis naturally suggests itself that the more\nWestern people borrowed the cult from Mesopotamia, and that this had\nhappened as early as B.C. 1500.[254.2] All scholars are agreed at all\nevents that the figure of Attis belongs to the older pre-Aryan stratum\nof the population of {255} Phrygia; modern speculation is sometimes\ninclined to regard this as Hittite, and we know that the Hittites\nadopted some part of the Babylonian religion. But the name Attis\nitself is a stumbling-block to the hypothesis of borrowing from\nMesopotamia. Believing Adonis to be a Western-Semitic form of Tammuz,\nwe can explain the name as meaning merely \u201cthe Lord,\u201d a natural\nappellative of the Sumerian god. But we cannot so explain \u201cAttis.\u201d It\nis non-Semitic, and must be regarded as belonging to an Anatolian\nlanguage-group, nor can we yet discover its root-meaning.\n\nAgain, there are many features of the Attis-worship and legend that\nare not found in the corresponding Sumerian, and one at least that\nseems essentially alien to it. The death of the vegetation-god,\noriginally suggested by the annual phenomenon of nature, may be\nexplained by various myths, when the personal deity has so far emerged\nfrom his nature-shell that he is capable of personal drama. The death\nof Tammuz does not appear to have been mythologically explained at\nall. We may suppose that the killing of Adonis by the boar was\nborrowed from the Attis legend, for in Phrygia, and also in Lydia--as\nthe Herodotean Ates story proves--this animal was sometimes regarded\nas the enemy that slew the god. It is a reasonable belief that the\nboar came to play this part in the story through a misunderstanding of\ncertain ritual, in which this victim was annually offered as\nincarnating the deity, or was reverentially spared through a\nsacrificial law of tabu. If this is an original fact of Attis-cult, it\ncounts somewhat against the hypothesis of derivation from Mesopotamia,\nfor the pig does not appear to have played any such part, positive or\nnegative, in Mesopotamian, as in the ritual of the Western Semites and\n{256} on the shores of Asia Minor; nor can any connection at present\nbe discovered between Tammuz and this animal.\n\nBut another version of the death of Attis, current at some time among\nhis worshippers, was that he died from the effects of self-mutilation,\na motive suggested by the emasculation of the Phrygian Galloi. We have\nhere a phenomenon in the cult and myth that was alien to the religious\nhabits of the Mesopotamian communities. The eunuch as a secular\nfunctionary is a figure belonging to an immemorial social tradition of\nthe East; but the eunuch-priest is the morbid product of a very few\nreligions, and there is no trace of such in Mesopotamia. The\nBabylonian church-law demanded an unblemished priesthood of strong\nvirility, agreeing in this respect with the Judaic and the Hellenic,\nand according with an ancient sentiment that the vigour of the priest\nwas the pledge of that continued flow of divine power which supported\nthe vigour of the community. Self-emasculation was penalised in the\nreligious rule of Jahw\u00e9, and the Gallos was excluded from\ntemple-worship by the ritual code of Lesbos. The records of modern\nsavagery and the history of asceticism, whether in modern and\nmediaeval India or in early Christianity, afford us varied\nillustration of the wildest excesses of self-inflicted cruelty against\nthe human body, but not--so far as I am aware--of this particular form\nof self-destruction.[256.1]\n\nAs a religious practice it is a special characteristic of Phrygia, a\nland always fascinating to the student on account of its strange\nfreaks of religious psychology; and from Phrygia the practice spread\ninto some adjacent communities, such as Bambyke. One may be allowed\n{257} to pause a little to consider the original motive that prompted\nit. At first sight one is tempted to explain it as due to a morbid\nexaggeration of the craving for purity. But elsewhere, where this\nimpulse was most powerful, for instance, in the later Orphic and Isis\ncults, and in early and mediaeval Christianity, it produced many\nmental aberrations but not this particular one. Nor, again, have we\nany reason for supposing this craving to have been strong in the\ndevotees of Phrygia; the Galloi of Bambyke, according to Lucian, were\npossessed by strong though impotent sexual desires and were allowed\nfull license with women. The form of communion most ardently sought\nwith the Phrygian goddess and with the later Sabazios was a marriage\nsymbolised by a sexual act; and Greek and Latin writers, both pagan\nand Christian, agree in reprobating the obscenities of Kybele-Attis\nworship; we may note also that Phrygian sacred mythology is somewhat\ngrosser than the Hellenic.\n\nWe are compelled to seek another explanation, and I can suggest none\nother than that which I have hazarded elsewhere; namely, that Phrygian\nreligious emasculation was an act performed in a frenzy of exaltation\nby the priest or _mystes_ desirous of assimilating himself as far as\npossible to the female nature of the great divinity.[257.1] {258} The\nworship was under male ministration for the highest part; but for the\nfull exercise of divine power the male priest must become quasi-female\nand wear a female dress, the latter part of the r\u00f4le being common\nenough in primitive \u201ctheurgy.\u201d The priest is himself at times the\nincarnation of the young god, and is called Attis. Therefore Attis was\nhimself supposed to have performed the same act, even at the cost of\nhis life. How early was this institution of a eunuch priesthood in\nPhrygia we have no direct evidence to prove. It may be a \u201cHittite\u201d\ntradition; for figures that Perrot reasonably interprets as\neunuch-priests are seen on the reliefs of Boghaz-Keui.\n\nReturning to the topic of the death of the divinity, we may assume\nthat in Phrygia this was a very ancient tradition, enacted yearly by a\nceremonious laying out of the vegetation puppet on a bier, or the\nsuspension of it on a pine-tree. We have no direct or otherwise trusty\nevidence for the immolation of the priest who incarnates the god;\ndoubtless the stories about the death of Marsyas and the\nharvest-sacrifice of Lityerses point to a ritual of human-sacrifice;\nwhom Marsyas stands for is doubtful, but in the Lityerses legend it is\nmerely the passing stranger who is slain, and neither of these\ntraditions is explicitly linked with Attis-cult.\n\nFinally, we may pronounce the hypothesis of the derivation of the\nPhrygian cult from Mesopotamia to be unproved and unnecessary.\n\nPursuing this phenomenon further afield, we come to the area of\nMinoan-Mycenaean culture. If the legend of the death of the Minotaur\ncould be safely interpreted as arising from the periodic immolation of\na bull-god, the idea that we are in quest of would be proved to belong\nto the Minoan Cretans; but the {259} frescoes of Knossos present that\nevent with such a gay and sporting _entourage_ that one feels shy of\nforcing a solemn religious significance into it. More important for\nour purpose is the traditional Zeus-legend of Crete. It is generally\nfelt to be alien to the genuine Hellenic tradition concerning their\nhigh god, as something adopted by the immigrant Hellenes from an\nearlier Eteocretan ritual and creed.[259.1] We have a glimpse of a\nritual in which the deity is born, is worshipped as an infant, and\nthen as a boy--\u03ba\u03bf\u1fe6\u03c1\u03bf\u03c2, as he is invoked in the new fragment of the\nhymn of the Kouretes--and especially as the son of a great mother, not\nas a mature independent personality. Again, there appears an orgiastic\nemotion and passion in the ritual that strikes a note in harmony with\nthe Phrygian Kybele-Attis worship. The very early associations of\nCrete and the countries adjacent to the Troad are now being revealed\nby accumulating evidence, and may point to an affinity of stock. It\nmay well have been, then, that the Minoan Cretans had their\ncounterpart to Attis, a young god who was born and died periodically,\nwhom they may have named Velchanos, the name of the young deity seen\nsitting under a tree on a Cretan coin of the fifth century. Though in\nage and character so unlike the Hellenic Zeus, we may suppose that the\nincoming Hellenes named him so because they found him the chief god of\nthe island. We can also understand why the later Bacchic mystery\nflourished so fruitfully in Crete, if it found here already the ritual\nof a young god who died and rose again, and why in later times the\ninhabitants celebrated with such enthusiasm the Hilaria,[259.2] the\nEaster festival of the resurrection of the Phrygian divinity.\n\n{260}\n\nThis attempt to reconstruct a portion of old Cretan religion on the\nlines of the early Phrygian has only a precarious value, until some\nmore positive evidence is forthcoming from the Minoan art-record,\nwhich hitherto has revealed to us nothing concerning an annual divine\nbirth and death. The ritual-legend is incomplete: we hear sufficiently\nof the birth, and we may argue _a priori_ that a periodic ritual of\nthe god\u2019s birth implies a periodic death. Unfortunately all that we\nglean from ancient literature is that there was a grave of Zeus,\nperhaps in the Idaean cave, on which Pythagoras is said to have\nwritten an epitaph.[260.1] But a sceptical doubt arises here from the\nfact which was pointed out by Rohde, that the grave of a divine\npersonage was often a misnomer of the underground sanctuary of a\nchthonian deity; and either the Idaean cave or the great cavern on\nMount Dikte, whence the interesting relics of an immemorial cult have\nrecently been gathered,[260.2] might at a later period have come to\nbe regarded as a grave. Still, we may ask, could the phrase \u201cthe grave\nof Zeus\u201d have become prevalent among a people with whom the worship of\nthis god was still a living creed, unless the faith also prevailed\nthat the god who died rose again to power? In that case the \u201cgrave of\nZeus\u201d could be a name for a sanctuary where the ritual of the death\nwas enacted preliminary to the ritual of the birth.\n\nThis reconstruction then, and the _a priori_ deduction emphasised\nabove, may claim to be at least legitimate.\n\nFinally, some evidence may be added from Cyprian cult for the view\nthat the Minoan civilisation was {261} cognisant of the dogma of the\ndeath of the divinity. We hear of the grave of Ariadne-Aphrodite which\nwas shown in later times in Cyprus,[261.1] and the Cretan and\nCypriote legends of the maidens called Gorgo, Parakuptousa, and\nGalatea[261.2] reveal to us an Aphrodite who died periodically and\nwas laid out on a bier and revived. The Aphrodite of Cyprus is most\nprobably of \u201cMinoan\u201d origin; and, being a goddess of vegetation, the\nidea of periodic death and resurrection might naturally attach to her,\nand might be associated with another type of ritual also, the annual\ncasting of her puppet into the sea, which probably gave rise to such\nstories as the leap of Britomartis or Derketo into the waves.[261.3]\n\nWe can now deal with the purely Hellenic evidence. Confining our view\nfirst to the cults and legends of the higher divinities of Hellas, we\ncannot affirm that the death and resurrection of the deity is a\nprimitive tradition of the Hellenes. We may suspect it to have been a\nleading motive in some of the local Arcadian cults of Artemis, if, for\ninstance, we interpret the Arcadian Kallisto as a form of the great\ngoddess herself; but it is very probable that Artemis in Arcadia and\nmany other of her cult-centres represents the pre-Hellenic divinity of\nbirth and fruitfulness. What we may dare to call the Hellenic spirit\nseems to speak in the answer given by Xenophanes to the people of Elea\nwhen they asked him whether they ought to sacrifice to Leukothea and\nbewail her: \u201cIf you regard her as a deity, do not bewail her; if as\nhuman, do not sacrifice.\u201d[261.4]\n\nBut when we descend from the higher religion to {262} the old Hellenic\nagrarian cults associated with the heroes or daimones of the soil and\nfield, we find evidence of sorrowful rites, ceremonies of bewailing,\nwhich belong to the same type as that of Tammuz; and in the Greek, as\nin the Babylonian, the personage to whom they are attached is a\nyouthful hero or heroine of vegetation: such are Linos, perhaps the\nearliest theme of a melancholy harvest-song of pre-Homeric days;\nHyakinthos, the \u201cyouth\u201d of the Laconian land who may or may not have\nbeen Hellenic, to whom the greater part of the Hyakinthia were\nconsecrated; Eunostos of Tanagra; Erigone, \u201cthe early-born,\u201d of\nIkaria. The life of all these passes away as the verdure passes, or as\nthe crops are gathered in; and to one of them at least, Hyakinthos,\nand perhaps to the others, the idea of an annual resurrection was\nattached. But none of these came like Tammuz to play a world-part;\nthey remain the na\u00efve, half-realised forms of poetic folk-religion.\nLike to them is Bormos of Bithynia,[262.1] whose death was bewailed\nat the harvest-time with melancholy songs, accompanied by sad\nflute-music, and Lityerses of Phrygia, whom the reapers lamented\naround the threshing-floor.\n\nShall we say that all these are merely reflections cast afar by the\ngreat cult-figure of Babylon?\n\nThen we must say the same of the peasant-hero \u201cGerman\u201d whom the modern\nBulgarians adore and bewail, of the Russian Yarilo,[262.2] and our\nown John Barleycorn. And at this point we shall probably fall back on\nthe theory of independent similar developments, and shall believe that\npeasant religion in different parts of the world is capable of\nevolving strikingly parallel {263} figures in obedience to the\nstimulus of similar circumstances and needs.\n\nWe have no surety, then, for a belief that Tammuz, or any shadow of\nTammuz, was borne to the western shores of the Aegean in the days\nbefore Homer. And we know that Adonis, his nearest Anatolian\nrepresentative, only arrived late in the post-Homeric period.\nMeantime, whatever view we may hold concerning prehistoric religious\ncommerce between East and West, this vital difference between\nMesopotamian and Hellenic religion must be strongly emphasised:\nBabylonian liturgy is mainly a service of sorrow, and part of that\nsorrow is for Tammuz; Hellenic worship was mainly cheerful and social,\nand only in a few chthonian cults is a gloomier tone discernible, nor\ncan we anywhere hear the outbursts of violent and ecstatic grief. In\nthis respect, and in its remoteness from any idea of the death and\nresurrection of the deity, Hellenic religion was further removed from\nthat of Catholic Europe than was the old Phrygian or the Sumerian.\n\nThe Babylonian temple-service was complex and varied, and offers many\nproblems of interest to the comparative student. We gather that a Holy\nMarriage was part of a religious drama perhaps performed annually; for\ninstance, we find reference to the solemn nuptials of Ninib and Bau,\nand to the marriage presents given to Bau.[263.1] In every\nanthropomorphic polytheism, especially when idolatry provides images\nthat could be used for religious drama, this ritual act is likely to\noccur. It is recorded of the southern Arabians in the days before\nIslam, an ancient inscription speaking of the marriage ceremony of\nAthtar.[263.2] It is a marriage of the great God {264} and Goddess\nthat according to the most reasonable interpretation is represented on\nthe Hittite reliefs of Boghaz-Keui. We may conjecture that it was a\nceremony of Minoan worship; a Mycenaean signet-ring shows us a seated\ngoddess with a young god standing before her and joining his forearm\nto hers, while both make a peculiar gesture with their fingers that\nmay indicate troth-plighting;[264.1] also, the later legends and the\nlater ritual commemorating the marriages of Aphrodite and Ariadne may\ndescend from the pre-Hellenic religious tradition. Finally, we have\nfairly full evidence of the same religious act in purely Hellenic\ncult. The \u1f31\u03b5\u03c1\u1f78\u03c2 \u03b3\u03ac\u03bc\u03bf\u03c2 of Zeus and Hera was enacted in many communities\nwith certain traits of primitive custom;[264.2] the nuptials of Kore\nand the lower-world god might be found in the ceremonies of certain\ntemples;[264.3] while the central scene of the Eleusinia, the greater\nif not the lesser, included a Holy Marriage.[264.4] The Roman\nreligion, in the original form of which there may have been no\nmarrying or giving in marriage, no family ties or genealogies of\ndivinities, no doubt borrowed its \u201cOrci nuptiae\u201d from the Greek. But\nfor the other cases, there is no need to resort to any theory of\nborrowing to explain a phenomenon so natural at a certain stage of\nreligion.\n\nNor is it an important phenomenon, so long as the ceremony was enacted\nmerely by puppets or idols, as in the Boeotian Daidala.[264.5] It\nonly begins to be of higher significance for the history of religious\npractice and thought, when the part of one of the divinities in this\ndrama is played by a human representative. For not only does this\noffer indefinite possibilities of exaltation {265} for the mortal, but\nit may engender the mystic ideal and practice of communion with the\ndivinity through sexual intercourse, which played a great part in\nPhrygian religion, and left a deep impress on early Christian\nsymbolism. The question whether the Mesopotamian religion presents us\nwith evidence of a \u201choly marriage\u201d solemnised between a mortal and the\ndivinity must finally involve the more difficult question as to the\nfunction and purpose of that strange Mesopotamian institution of\ntemple-prostitutes. But, leaving this latter alone for the moment, we\nfind explicit testimony in Herodotus to the fact with which we are\nimmediately concerned. In describing the great temple of Bel at\nBabylon,[265.1] he asserts, on the authority of his \u201cChaldean\npriests,\u201d that the deity chose as his nightly partner some native\nwoman, who was supposed to pass the night on the couch with him, and\nwho was obliged to abstain from all other intercourse with men; and he\ncompares a similar practice of belief found in the temple of Zeus in\nEgyptian Thebes, and in the oracular shrine of Apollo at Patara in\nLycia. Now Herodotus\u2019 trustworthiness in this matter has been doubted\nby Assyriologists;[265.2] nevertheless, a phrase used in the code of\nHammurabi concerning a holy woman dedicated to temple service, calling\nher \u201ca wife of Marduk,\u201d seems to give some colour to the Herodotean\nstatement.[265.3] Only, this term might have merely a\nspiritual-symbolic significance, like the designation of a nun as \u201cthe\nbride of Christ\u201d; for the original Babylonian documents have supplied\nas yet, so far as I am aware, no evidence of a woman fulfilling the\nr\u00f4le of Belit, the wife of Bel.\n\n{266}\n\nAs regards the adjacent religions, the idea that a mortal might enter\ninto this mode of communion with the divinity was probably an ancient\nheritage of the Phrygian religions, for it crops up in various forms.\nThe priest of Attis was himself called Attis, and, therefore, probably\nhad loving intercourse with the goddess, and the later mysteries of\nKybele extended this idea and offered to every votary the glory of a\nmystic marriage;[266.1] it was the unconscious stimulus of an\nimmemorial tradition that prompted the Phrygian heresiarch Montanus to\ngive himself out as the husband of the Virgin Mary.[266.2] It also\nappears as a fundamental tenet of the Sabazian mystery and of the\nHellenistic-Egyptian Hermetic theosophy. The simple ritual-fact,\nnamely, that a woman serves as the bride of the god, could probably be\ntraced far afield through many widely distant peoples. According to\nSahagun,[266.3] the human sacrifices of the Mexicans had sometimes\nthe purpose of sending away a woman victim into divine wedlock. In\npre-Christian Sweden we find a priestess generally regarded as the\nwife of the god Freyr, and enjoying considerable power from the\nconnection.[266.4] Similar examples can be quoted from modern savage\ncommunities. Therefore if we find the same institution in the\nMediterranean, we shall not think it necessary to suppose that it was\nan import from Babylon or from any Semitic people. As regards the\nMinoan worship, it is legitimate at least to regard the legend of\nPasipha\u00eb and her amour with the bull-god as an unfortunate {267}\naetiologic myth distorting the true sense of a ritual in which a\nmortal woman enjoyed this kind of divine communion, and here again we\nshould mark a religious affinity between Crete and Phrygia. And it is\nlikely that the idea was not unfamiliar to the Hellenes, though the\nrecord of it is scanty and uncertain. According to the early Christian\nfathers, the inspiration of the Pythia of Delphi was due to a\ncorporeal union with Apollo akin at least to--if not identical\nwith--sexual intercourse. Of more value is Herodotus\u2019 definite\nassertion that the priestess of Patara gained her inspiration by her\nnuptial union with Apollo. In the rare cases where the cult of a\nHellenic god was administered by a priestess we may suspect that a\n\u1f31\u03b5\u03c1\u1f78\u03c2 \u03b3\u03ac\u03bc\u03bf\u03c2 was part of the temple-ritual; in the two examples that I\nhave been able to find, the cults of Poseidon at Kalaureia and of\nHeracles at Thespiai, the priestess must be a maiden, as on this\ntheory would be natural.[267.1] The maiden-priestesses of the\nLeukippides, the divine brides of the Dioskouroi at Sparta, were\nthemselves called Leukippides; in all probability because they were\ntheir mortal representatives in some ceremony of holy\nmarriage.[267.2] But the most salient and explicitly recorded example\nis the yearly marriage of the Queen-Archon at Athens with Dionysos,\nthe bull-god, in the feast of Anthesteria, the significance of which I\nhave discussed elsewhere.[267.3] It seems that the Queen by uniting\nher body with the god\u2019s, unites to him the whole Athenian state and\nsecures its prosperity and fruitfulness; this historic fact may also\nexplain the myth of the union {268} of Althaia, Queen of Kalydon, with\nthe same god. Finally, let us observe that nothing in any of these\nHellenic records suggests any element of what we should call impurity\nin the ritual; we are not told that these holy marriages were ever\nconsummated by the priest as the human representative of the god; or\nthat the ceremony involved any real loss of virginity in the\nmaiden-priestess. The marriage could have been consummated\nsymbolically by use of a puppet or image of the deity. We may believe\nthat the rite descends from pre-Homeric antiquity; the ritual which\nthe Queen-Archon performed might naturally have been established at\nthe time of the adoption into Athens of the Dionysiac cult, and there\nare reasons for dating this event earlier than 1000 B.C.[268.1]\n\nWe now come to a very difficult and important question concerning the\nposition of women in the old Mesopotamian temple-ritual. Our first\ndocument of value is the code of Hammurabi, in which we find certain\nsocial regulations concerning the status of a class of women\ndesignated by a name which Winckler translates doubtfully as\n\u201cGod\u2019s-sisters,\u201d regarding it, however, as equivalent to consecrated,\nwhile Johns translates it merely as \u201cvotary.\u201d[268.2] At least, we\nhave proof of a class of holy women who have certain privileges and\nare under certain restrictions. They were the daughters of good\nfamilies dedicated by their fathers to religion; they could inherit\nproperty, which was exempt from the burden of army-tax; they could not\nmarry, and were prohibited from setting-up or even entering a\nwine-shop under penalty of death. It is something to know even as much\nas this about them, {269} but we would very gladly learn more. Is it\nto their order that the personage described as \u201cthe wife of\nMarduk\u201d[269.1] belongs, who has been considered above? Is it from\namong them that the priestesses of Ishtar were chosen, who interpreted\nthe oracles of the goddess?[269.2] It seems clear that a father could\ndedicate his daughter to any divinity, that their position was\nhonourable, and that they are not to be identified with the\ntemple-prostitutes of Babylon or Erech, who excited the wonder and\noften the reprobation of the later Greek world. This peculiar order of\ntemple-harlots is also recognised--according to some of the best\nauthorities[269.3]--in Hammurabi\u2019s code, where they are mentioned in\nthe same context with the \u201cconsecrated\u201d or the \u201cGod-sisters,\u201d and yet\nare clearly distinct from them; another clause seems to refer to male\nprostitutes (\u00a7 187). Certain rules are laid down concerning their\ninheritance of property, and concerning the rearing of their children,\nif they had any, who might be adopted into private families. Evidently\nthese \u201cQadishtu\u201d were a permanent institution, and there is no hint of\nany dishonour. There may be other references in Babylonian literature\nto these temple-women; in the Epic of Gilgamesh, the courtesan who won\nover Eabani evidently belongs to the retinue of Ishtar of Erech.\n\nFrom these two institutions we must distinguish that other, for which\nHerodotus is our earliest authority:[269.4] according to his explicit\nstatement, once in her lifetime every Babylonian woman, high or low,\nhad to stand in the temple-precincts of the goddess Mylitta--probably\na {270} functional appellative of Ishtar, meaning \u201cthe helper of\nchildbirth\u201d--and to prostitute herself to any stranger who threw money\ninto her lap and claimed her with the formula, \u201cI invoke the goddess\nMylitta for you.\u201d Herodotus hastens to assure us that this single act\nof unchastity--which took place outside the temple--did not afterwards\nlower the morality of the women, who, as he declares, were otherwise\nexemplary in this respect. But he is evidently shocked by the custom,\nand the early Christian and modern writers have quoted it as the worst\nexample of gross pagan or Oriental licentiousness. Some devoted\nAssyriologists have tried to throw doubt on the historian\u2019s\nveracity:[270.1] the wish is father to the thought: and it is indeed\ndifficult for the ordinary civilised man to understand how an ancient\ncivilisation of otherwise advanced morality could have sanctioned such\na practice. But Herodotus\u2019 testimony ought not to be so impugned; nor\nis it sufficient evidence for rejecting it that no reference to the\ncustom which he describes has been found hitherto in the cuneiform\nliterature. Strabo merely repeats what Herodotus has said; but\nindependent evidence of some value is gathered from the apocryphal\nEpistle of Jeremias:[270.2] \u201cThe women also with cords about them sit\nin the ways, burning bran for incense; but if any of them, drawn by\nsome that pass by, lie with them, she reproacheth her fellow that she\nwas not thought as worthy as herself, nor her cord broken.\u201d The\ncontext is altogether religious, and this is no ordinary secular\nimmorality; certain details in the narrative remind us of Herodotus,\nand make it clear that the writer has in mind the same social usage\nthat the historian vouches for. This usage may be described as the\nconsecration to the goddess of {271} the first-fruits of the woman\u2019s\nvirginity before marriage; for, though Herodotus does not explicitly\nsay that it was a rite preliminary to marriage, yet the records of\nsimilar practices elsewhere in Asia Minor assure us on this point.\n\nWe have now to begin the comparative search in the adjacent regions,\nkeeping distinct the three types of consecration which I have\nspecified above, which are too often confused.[271.1]\n\nThe first type has its close analogies with the early Christian,\nmediaeval, and modern conventual life of women. The code of Hammurabi\npresents us with the earliest example of what may be called the\nreligious sisterhood; the Babylonian votaries were dedicated to\nreligion, and while the Christian nuns are often called the brides of\nChrist, their earliest prototypes enjoyed the less questionable title\nof \u201cGod\u2019s-sisters.\u201d We find no exact parallel to this practice in\nancient Greece; from the earliest period, no doubt, the custom\nprevailed of consecrating individual women of certain families as\npriestesses to serve certain cults, and sometimes chastity was\nenforced upon them; but these did not form a conventual society; and\nusually, apart from their occasional religious duties, they could lead\na secular life. In fact, the monastic system was of Eastern origin and\nonly reached Europe in later times, being opposed {272} to the civic\ncharacter of the religion of the old Aryan states.\n\nThe second class of consecrated women served as temple-harlots in\ncertain cult-centres of Asia Minor. We cannot say that the custom in\nall cases emanated from Babylon; for there is reason to think that it\nwas a tradition attaching to the cult of the goddess among the\npolytheistic Semitic stocks. We have clear allusions in the Bible to\ntemple-prostitution practised by both sexes in the Canaanite\ncommunities adjacent to the Israelites, who were themselves sometimes\ncontaminated by the practice.[272.1] We hear of \u201chierodouli\u201d among\nthe pagan Arabs,[272.2] of women \u201cof the congregation of the people\nof Astarte\u201d at Carthage,[272.3] of numbers of dedicated slave women\nin the cult of Aphrodite at Eryx,[272.4] which was at least\nsemi-Semitic; and it is likely that some of these at least were\ndevoted to the impure religious practice. As regards non-Semitic\nworships, it is only clearly attested of two, namely, of the worship\nof M\u0101 at Comana in Pontos,[272.5] and of Aphrodite Ourania in\nCorinth.[272.6] In these cases we have the right to assume Semitic\ninfluences at work; for we do not find traces of this practice in the\nancient cult of Kybele; and Ma of Cappadocia and Pontus, who had\naffinities with her, was partly contaminated with Anahita, a Persian\ngoddess, who had taken on Babylonian fashions. Nor can we doubt that\nthe practice gained recognition at Corinth in post-Homeric times\nthrough its Oriental trade; for it was attached to the cult of\nAphrodite {273} Ourania, whose personality, partly at least, was\nidentical with that of the Semitic goddess. The practice survived in\nLydia in the later period of the Graeco-Roman culture. For a woman of\nTralles, by name Aurelia Aemilia, erected a column with an inscription\nthat has been published by Sir William Ramsay,[273.1] in which she\nproclaims with pride that she had prostituted herself in the temple\nservice \u201cat the command of an oracle,\u201d and that her female ancestors\nhad done likewise. Finally, we may find the cult-practice reflected in\ncertain legends; in the legend of Iconium, for instance, of the woman\nwho enticed all strangers to her embraces and afterwards slew them,\nbut was herself turned to stone by Perseus, and whose stone image gave\nthe name to the State.[273.2]\n\nThe other custom recorded by Herodotus of Babylon, the consecration of\nthe first-fruits of virginity to the goddess before marriage, which I\nhave considered as distinct from the foregoing, may often have been\ncombined or confused with it; for the temple-harlotry, carried on for\nsome considerable period, might be occasionally a preliminary to\nmarriage. The most exact parallels to the Babylonian custom are found\nin the records of Byblos, Cyprus, and the Syrian Heliopolis or\nBaalbec. Lucian attests the rule prevailing at Byblos, that in the\nfestival of Adonis women exposed themselves for purchase on one single\nday, and {274} that only strangers were allowed to enjoy them; but\nthat this service was only imposed upon them if they refused to cut\noff their hair in lamentation for Adonis.[274.1] Similarly the\nByzantine historian Sozomenos declared that at Heliopolis (Baalbec),\nin the temple of Astarte, each maiden was obliged to prostitute\nherself before marriage, until the custom and the cult were abolished\nby Constantine.[274.2] The statements about Cyprus, though less\nexplicit, point to the same institution: Herodotus, having described\nat length the Babylonian practice, declares that it prevailed in\nCyprus also, and Justin[274.3] that it was a custom of the Cyprians\n\u201cto send their virgins before marriage on fixed days to the shore, to\nearn their dowry by prostitution, so as to pay a first-offering to\nVenus for their virtue henceforth (pro reliqua pudicitia libamenta\nVeneri soluturas).\u201d The procession to the shore may indicate the rule\nthat intercourse was only allowed them with strangers,[274.4] and\nnothing points to prolonged prostitution. It is probably the same rite\nthat the Locrians of the West vowed to perform in honour of Aphrodite\nin the event {275} of deliverance from a dangerous war.[275.1] But in\nthe worship of Anaitis at Akilisene in Armenia, according to\nStrabo,[275.2] the unmarried women served as temple-harlots for an\nindefinite time until they married; and Aurelia Aemilia of Tralles may\nhave been only maintaining the same ancient ritual in Lydia. In these\ntwo countries, then, it seems as if there had been a fusion of two\ninstitutions that elsewhere were distinct one from another,\nharlot-service for a prolonged period in a temple, and the\nconsecration of each maiden\u2019s virginity as a preliminary to marriage.\n\nSuch institutions mark the sharpest antagonism between the early\nreligious sentiment of the East and the West. Of no European State is\nthere any record, religious or other, that the sacrifice before\nmarriage of a woman\u2019s virginity to a mortal was at any time regarded\nas demanded by temple ritual. Such a rite was abhorrent to the genuine\nHellenic, as it was to the Hebraic, spirit; and only in later times do\nwe find one or two Hellenic cult-centres catching the taint of the\nOriental tradition: while such legends as that of Melanippos and\nKomaitho and the story of Laokoon\u2019s sin express the feeling of horror\nwhich any sexual licence in a temple aroused in the Greek.[275.3]\n\n{276}\n\nIt is imperative to try to understand the original purpose or\nsignificance of the Semitic and Anatolian rites that we have been\ndealing with. To regard them as the early Christian and some modern\nwriters have done, as mere examples of unbridled Oriental lust\nmasquerading in the guise of religion, is a false and unjust view.\nAccording to Herodotus, the same society that ordained this sacrifice\nof virginity upon the daughters of families maintained in other\nrespects a high standard of virtue, which appears also attested by\nBabylonian religious and secular documents. Modern anthropology has\nhandled the problem with greater insight and seriousness; but certain\ncurrent explanations are not convincing. To take the rite described by\nHerodotus first, which is always to be distinguished from the\npermanent institution of \u201chierodulai\u201d in the sense of temple-harlots:\nMannhardt, who was the first to apply modern science to the problem,\nexplained it as a development of vegetation-ritual.[276.1] Aphrodite\nand Adonis, Ishtar and Tammuz, represent vegetation, and their yearly\nunion causes general fertility; the women are playing the part of the\ngoddess, and the stranger represents Adonis! The Babylonian rite,\nthen, is partly religious \u03bc\u03b9\u03bc\u03b7\u03c3\u03b9\u03c2, the human acting of a divine drama,\npartly religious magic good for the crops. But in spite of Mannhardt\u2019s\ngreat and real services to science, his vegetation-theory leads him\noften astray, and only one who was desperately defending a thesis\nwould explain that stranger, a necessary personage in the ritual at\nBabylon, Byblos, Cyprus, and Baalbec, as the native god. There is no\nkind of reason for connecting the Babylonian rite with Tammuz, or for\nsupposing that the women were representing {277} the goddess,[277.1]\nor that their act directly influenced the crops, except in the sense\nthat all due performance of religious ceremonies has been considered\nat certain stages of belief as favouring the prosperity of the land.\nSir William Ramsay, in his _Cities and Bishoprics of Phrygia_,[277.2]\nwould explain the custom as preserving the tradition of the communism\nof women before regular marriage was instituted. Dr. Frazer, who has\ndealt more fully with the question, accepts this explanation,[277.3]\nas he also accepts Mannhardt\u2019s in full; and, while he associates--as I\nthink, wrongly--the Babylonian rite with general temple-prostitution,\nhe adds a third suggestion, prompted by his theory of kingship: the\nking himself might have to mate with one or more of the temple-harlots\n\u201cwho played Astarte to his Adonis\u201d:[277.4] such unions might serve to\nmaintain the supply of human deities, one of whom might succeed to the\nthrone, and another might be sacrificed in his father\u2019s stead when\nreligion demanded the life of the royal man-god. I do not find this\ntheory coherent even with itself; and, like the others, it fails to\nexplain all the facts, and, on the other hand, it imagines data which\nare not given us by the records.\n\nThat state of communism when sexual union was entirely promiscuous is\nreceding further and further into the anthropological background: it\nis dangerous to predicate it of the most backward Anatolian State in\nany period which can come into our ken. When the Byzantine Sokrates\ngravely tells us that the men of Heliopolis {278} had their wives in\ncommon, he does not know what he is saying. And if this sacrifice of\nvirginity before marriage was a recognition of the original rights of\nall the males of the community, why did not some representative of the\ncommunity take the virginity, the priest or some head-man? This\nill-considered sociologic hypothesis shipwrecks on that mysterious\nstranger.[278.1]\n\nProf. Westermarck, in his _Origin and Development of the Moral\nIdeas_,[278.2] regards the Mylitta-rite as intended to ensure\nfertility in women through direct appeal to the goddess of fertility,\nand he explains the formula which the stranger uttered--\u1f10\u03c0\u03b9\u03ba\u03b1\u03bb\u03ad\u03c9 \u03c4\u03bf\u03b9\n\u03c4\u1f74\u03bd \u03b8\u03b5\u1f78\u03bd \u039c\u03cd\u03bb\u03b9\u03c4\u03c4\u03b1--as signifying generally \u201cMay the goddess Mylitta\nprosper thee.\u201d Obviously the phrase, \u201cI invoke the goddess for thee,\u201d\ncould as naturally mean, \u201cI claim thee in the name of the goddess,\u201d\nthe stranger basing his right to the woman on this appeal. But his\ngeneral theory appears not so unsound as those which have just been\nnoted.\n\nThe comparative method ought to help us here; and though we have no\nexact parallel, as far as I am aware, recorded of any people outside\nthe Mediterranean area to the Babylonian custom, we find usages\nreported elsewhere that agree with it in one essential. Lubbock quotes\ninstances from modern India of the rule imposed upon women of\npresenting themselves before marriage in the temple of Juggernaut for\nthe purpose--as he implies--of offering up their virginity, though no\nsuch custom is recorded in the Vedic period of religion;[278.3] cases\nalso are chronicled of the rule prevailing among {279} uncultured or\nsemi-cultured tribes that the medicine-man or the priest should take\nthe virginity of the bride before the marriage ceremony.[279.1] These\nare probably illustrations of the working of the same idea as that\nwhich inspired the Babylonian custom. Marriage involves the entering\nupon a new state; change of life is generally dangerous, and must be\nsafeguarded by what Van Gennep has called \u201crites de passage\u201d; more\nespecially is the sexual union with a virgin dangerous and liable to\nbe regarded with awe by primitive sentiment; before it is safe to\nmarry her, the tabu that is upon her must first be removed by a\nreligious act securing the divinity\u2019s sanction for the removal; just\nas the ripe cornfield must not be reaped before religious rites, such\nas the consecration of first-fruits, have loosened the tabu upon it:\nwe may believe that Hellenic marriage ritual secured the same end as\nthe Babylonian by what seems to us the more innocent method of\noffering the \u03c0\u03c1\u03bf\u03c4\u03ad\u03bb\u03b5\u03b9\u03b1. So the Babylonian safeguards the coming\nmarriage by offering the first-fruits of his daughter to the goddess\nwho presides over the powers and processes of life and birth. Under\nher protection, after appeal to her, the process loses its special\ndanger; or if there is danger still, it falls upon the head of the\nstranger.[279.2] For I can find no other way of accounting {280} for\nhis presence as a necessary agent, in the ritual of at least four\nwidely separate communities of Semitic race: this comparative ubiquity\nprevents us explaining it as due to some capricious accidental impulse\nof delicacy, as if the act would become less indelicate if a stranger\nwho would not continue in the place participated in it.\n\nIn his essay on the question, Mr. Hartland explains the Babylonian\nrite as belonging to the class of puberty-ceremonies; nor would this\naccount of it conflict with the view here put forth, if, as he\nmaintains, primitive puberty-ceremonies to which girls are subjected\nare usually preliminary to the marriage which speedily\nfollows.[280.1] But puberty-ceremonies are generally performed at\ninitiation-mysteries, and none of the rites that we are considering\nappear to have been associated with mysteries except, perhaps, at\nCyprus, where the late record speaks of mysteries instituted by\nKinyras that had a sexual significance, and which may have been the\noccasion of the consecration of virginity that Justin\ndescribes;[280.2] but the institution of mysteries has not {281} yet\nbeen proved for any purely Semitic religion. In any case, Mr.\nHartland\u2019s statement does not explain why the loss of virginity should\nbe considered desirable in a puberty-ceremony or as a preliminary to\nmarriage.\n\nThe significance of the action, as I have interpreted it, is negative\nrather than positive, the avoidance of a vague peril or the removal of\na tabu rather than the attainment of the blessing of fertility, as Dr.\nWestermarck would regard it. And this idea, the removal of a tabu,\nseems expressed in the phrase of Herodotus[281.1] by which he\ndescribes the state of the woman after the ceremony--\u1f00\u03c0\u03bf\u03c3\u03b9\u03c9\u03c3\u03b1\u03bc\u03ad\u03bd\u03b7 \u03c4\u1fc7\n\u03b8\u03b5\u1ff7; and the parallel that I have suggested, the consecration of the\nfirst-fruits of the harvest to remove the tabu from the rest of the\ncrop, is somewhat justified by the words of Justin already\nquoted--\u201cpro reliqua pudicitia libamenta Veneri soluturas.\u201d\n\nAs regards the other institution, the maintenance of \u201chierodoulai\u201d in\ntemples as \u201cconsecrated\u201d women, \u201ckadeschim,\u201d unmarried, who for a\nperiod of years indulged in sexual intercourse with visitors, the\noriginal intention and significance of it is hard to decide. We may be\nsure that it did not originate in mere profligacy, and the inscription\nof Tralles shows that even in the later Roman period it had not lost\nits religious prestige.[281.2] Such a custom could naturally arise in\na society that allowed freedom of sexual intercourse among young\nunmarried persons--and this is not uncommonly found at a primitive\nlevel of culture--and that was devoted to the worship of a goddess of\nsexual fertility. The rituals in the temples of Ishtar of Erech,\nAnaitis of {282} Armenia, M\u0101 of Comana, must have been instituted for\nsome national and social purpose; therefore Mr. Hartland\u2019s suggestion,\nthat the original object of the Armenian rite was to give the maidens\na chance of securing themselves a suitable husband by experience,\nseems insufficient. Dr. Frazer\u2019s theory, that connects the institution\nwith some of the mystic purposes of kingship,[282.1] floats in the\nair; for there is not a particle of evidence showing any relation\nbetween these women and the monarch or the royal harem or the\nmonarchical succession or the death of a royal victim. A simpler\nsuggestion is that the \u201chierodoulai,\u201d or temple-women, were the human\nvehicles for diffusing through the community the peculiar virtue or\npotency of the goddess, the much-coveted blessing of human fertility.\nThus to consecrate slaves or even daughters to this service was a\npious social act.\n\nThe significance of the facts that we have been examining is of the\nhighest for the history of religious morality, especially for the\nvaried history of the idea of purity. We call this temple-harlotry\nvile and impure; the civilised Babylonian, who in private life valued\npurity and morality, called the women \u201ckadistu,\u201d that is, \u201cpure\u201d or\nclean in the ritualistic sense, or as Zimmern interprets the ideogram,\n\u201cnot unclean.\u201d[282.2] In fact, the Mediterranean old-world religions,\nall save the Hebraic, agreed in regarding the processes of the\npropagation of life as divine, at least as something not alien or\nabhorrent to godhead. But the early Christian propagandists, working\nhere on Hebraic lines, intensified the isolation of God from the\nsimple phenomena of birth, thereby engendering at times an anti-sexual\nbias, and preparing a discord between any possible biological {283}\nview and the current religious dogma, and modern ethical thought has\nnot been wholly a gainer thereby.\n\nThe subject that has been discussed at some length is also connected\nwith the whole question of ritual-purity and purification. The\nprimitive conception of purity had at an early stage in its evolution\nbeen adopted by higher religion; and the essential effect of impurity\nwas to debar a person from intercourse with God and with his\nfellow-men. Hence arises a code of rules to regulate temple-ritual. So\nfar as I am aware, the Babylonian rules for safeguarding the purity of\nthe shrines were not conspicuously different from the Greek or the\nHebraic.[283.1] The taint of bloodshed and other physical impurities\nwas kept aloof; and it is in the highest degree probable that the\nfunction of the \u201chetairai\u201d was only performed outside the temple, for\nHerodotus specially tells us that this rule was observed in the\nMylitta-rite. The cathartic methods of East and West agree in many\npoints. The use of holy water for purifying purposes was known to the\nearly Greeks.[283.2] It was still more in evidence in the Babylonian\nritual: the holy water of the Euphrates or Tigris was used for a\nvariety of purposes, for the washing of the king\u2019s hands before he\ntouched the statues, for the washing of the idol\u2019s mouths,[283.3]\n{284} perhaps also for baptism. For we hear of some such rite in a\nhymn to Enlil translated by Dr. Langdon[284.1]--the line that he\nrenders \u201cSon whom in the sacred bowl she baptized,\u201d seems to refer to\na human child. Ablution was prominent also in the exorcism-ritual, and\nthe \u201cHouse of Washing\u201d or \u201cHouse of Baptism\u201d was the centre of a\nliturgy that had for its object deliverance from demons.[284.2] The\nwhole State was at times purified by water.[284.3] And in all this\nritual the water must itself be of a peculiar purity--rain-water, for\ninstance,[284.4] or the water of the Euphrates, whence came probably\nthe Water of Life that was kept in Marduk\u2019s temple with which the Gods\nand the Annunaki washed their faces, and which was used in the feast\nof the Doom-fixing.[284.5] According to the Babylonian view ordinary\nwater was naturally impure (we may well believe that it was so at\nBabylon, where the river and canals were so pressed into the service\nof man), and a person incurred impurity by stepping over a puddle or\nother unpurified water.[284.6] The Greek did not need to be so\nscrupulous, for most water in his land was naturally pure, being\nspring or brook; yet in his cathartic rules we find often that only a\nspecial water was suitable for the religious purpose, running water\nespecially, or sea-water, or in a particular locality one sacred\nfountain only.[284.7] But though it was to him as to most {285}\npeoples, the simple and natural means of purification, he did not\napply it to such various cathartic purposes as the Babylonian. Nor as\nfar as we can discover had he developed in old days the interesting\nrite of baptism: we hear of it first in the records of the fifth\ncentury, and in relation to alien cults like that of the Thracian\ngoddess Kotytto.[285.1]\n\nEqually prominent in the cathartic ritual of Mesopotamia was the\nelement of fire: in the prayer that followed upon the\npurification-ceremonies we find the formula, \u201cMay the torch of the\ngleaming Fire-God cleanse me.\u201d[285.2] The Fire-God, Nusku, is\nimplored \u201cto burn away the evil magicians,\u201d[285.3] and we may believe\nthat he owes his development and exalted position as a high spiritual\ngod to the ritual use of fire, just as in the Vedic religion did Agni.\nThe conception of fire as a mighty purifying element, which appears in\nthe Old and New Testaments and in Christian eschatology, has arisen,\nno doubt, from the cathartic ritual of the ancient Semites. Doubtless\nalso the spiritual or magic potency of this element was known in\nancient Europe: it is clearly revealed in the primitive ceremonies of\nthe old German \u201cNotfeuer,\u201d with which the cattle, fields, and men were\npurified in time of pestilence.[285.4] And there are several\nindications of its use in Greek cathartic ritual; a noteworthy example\nis the purification of Lemnos by the bringing of holy fire from\nDelos;[285.5] the curious Attic ritual of running with the new-born\nbabe round the {286} hearth, called the Amphidromia, may have had a\nsimilar intention;[286.1] even the holy water, the \u03c7\u03ad\u03c1\u03bd\u03b9\u03c8, seems to\nhave been hallowed by the insertion of a torch;[286.2] and in the\nlater records fire is often mentioned among the usual implements of\ncleansing.[286.3] The Eleusinian myth concerning Demeter holding the\ninfant Demophon in the flame to make him immortal was suggested\nprobably by some purificatory rite in which fire was used. Finally,\nthe fire-ordeal, which was practised both in Babylonia and\nGreece,[286.4] may have been associated at a certain period with the\ncathartic properties of fire. Nevertheless, the Hellenic divinities\nspecially concerned with this element, Hestia and Hephaistos, had\nlittle personal interest in this ritual, and did not rise to the same\nheight in the national theology as Nusku rose in the Babylonian.\n\nWe might find other coincidences in detail between Hellenic and\nAssyrian ritual, such as the purificatory employment of salt, onions,\nand the sacrificial skin of the animal-victim.[286.5] One of the most\ninteresting phenomena presented by the cathartic law of old Babylonia\n{287} is a rule that possessed an obvious moral value; we find,\nnamely, on one of the cylinders of Gudea, that during the period when\nGudea was purifying the city the master must not strike the slave, and\nno action at law must be brought against any one; for seven days\nperfect equality reigned, no bad word was uttered, the widow and the\norphan went free from wrong.[287.1] The conception underlying this\nrule is intelligible: all quarrelling and oppression, being often\naccompanied with bloodshed and death, disturbs the general purity\nwhich is desired to prevail; and I have indicated elsewhere a similar\nlaw regulating the conduct of the Eleusinian mysteries and the\nDionysiac festival at Athens, both ceremonies of cathartic\nvalue,[287.2] and I have pointed out a similar ordinance observed\nrecently by a North-American Indian tribe, and formerly by the\nPeruvians; to these instances may be added the statement by\nLivy,[287.3] that in the Roman \u201clectisternia,\u201d when a table with\nofferings was laid before the gods, no quarrelling was allowed and\nprisoners were released, and the historian gives to the institution of\nthe lectisternia a piacular significance.\n\nWe must also bear in mind certain striking differences between the\nHellenic and the Babylonian cathartic systems. In certain\npurification-ceremonies of Hellas, those in which the homicide was\npurged from his stain, the washing with the blood of the piacular\nvictim was the most potent means of grace.[287.4] We may find\nanalogies in Vedic, Roman, and Hebraic ritual, but hitherto none have\nbeen presented by the religious documents {288} of Babylon, where, as\nhas been already pointed out, scarcely any mystic use appears to have\nbeen made of the blood of the victim.[288.1] Again, the Babylonian\npurification included the confession of sins, a purgation unknown and\napparently unnatural to the Hellene;[288.2] and generally the\nBabylonian, while most of its methods, like the Hellenic, are modes of\ntransference or physical riddance of impurity, had a higher spiritual\nand religious significance; for it includes lamentations for sin and\nprayers to the divinity that are not mentioned in the record of any\nGreek \u201ckatharsis.\u201d\n\nA long ritual-document is preserved containing the details of the\npurification of the king:[288.3] certain forms agree with the\nHellenic, but one who was only versed in the latter would find much\nthat was strange and unintelligible both in the particulars and in\ngeneral atmosphere. We discern an interesting mixture of magic and\nreligion. The gods are partly entreated, partly bribed, partly\nconstrained; and at the end the evil is physically expelled from the\npalace. The purifier puts on dark garments, just as the ministers of\nthe underworld-deities did occasionally in Greece. The king himself\nperforms much of the ceremony, and utters words of power: \u201cMay my sins\nbe rent away, may I be pure and live before Shamash.\u201d The ordering of\nthe cathartic apparatus is guided partly by astrology. It is curious\nalso to find that every article used in the process is identified by\nname with some divinity: the cypress is the god Adad, the fragrant\nspices the god Ninib, the censer the god Ib, etc.; and the commentary\nthat accompanies the ritual-text explains that these {289} substances\ncompel the deities thus associated with them to come and give aid.\n\nIn fact, the differences between East and West in this religious\nsphere are so important that we should not be able to believe that the\ncathartic system of Greece was borrowed from Babylonia, even if the\npoints of resemblance were much more numerous and striking than they\nare. For it would be possible to draw up a striking list of\ncoincidences between Hellenic and Vedic cathartic rites, and yet no\none would be able on the strength of it to establish a hypothesis of\nborrowing.\n\nIn any case, it may be said, the question of borrowing does not arise\nwithin the narrow limits of our inquiry, which is limited to the\npre-Homeric period, since all Greek \u201ckatharsis\u201d is post-Homeric. The\nlatter dictum is obviously not literally true, as a glance through the\nHomeric poems will prove. Homer is aware of the necessity of\npurification by water before making prayer or libation to the gods:\nAchilles washes his hands and the cups before he pours forth wine and\nprays to Zeus,[289.1] Telemachos washes his hands in sea-water before\nhe prays to Athena[289.2]; and there is a significant account of the\npurification of the whole Achaean host after the plague;[289.3] as\nthe later Greeks would have done, the Achaeans throw away into the sea\ntheir \u03bb\u03cd\u03bc\u03b1\u03c4\u03b1, the infected implements of purification, wool or\nwhatever they used, that absorbed the evil from them. But it has been\ngenerally observed that Homer does not appear to have been aware of\nany need for purification from the stain of bloodshed or from the\nghostly contagion of death. It is true that Odysseus purifies his hall\nwith fire and sulphur after slaying the suitors, but we are not sure\nthat the act had any further significance than {290} the riddance of\nthe smell of blood from the house. Sulphur is there called \u03ba\u03b1\u03ba\u1ff6\u03bd\n\u1f04\u03ba\u03bf\u03c2,[290.1] \u201ca remedy against evil things\u201d; but we cannot attach any\nmoral or spiritual sense to \u03ba\u03b1\u03ba\u1f70, nor is Homeric \u03ba\u03ac\u03b8\u03b1\u03c1\u03c3\u03b9\u03c2 related, as\nfar as we can see, to any animistic belief. There is one passage where\nHomer\u2019s silence is valuable and gives positive evidence; Theoklumenos,\nwho has slain a man of his own tribe and fled from his home, in\nconsequence approaches Telemachos when the latter is sacrificing and\nimplores and receives his protection: there is no hint of any feeling\nthat there is a stain upon him, or that he needs purification, or that\nhis presence pollutes the sacrifice.[290.2] All this would have been\nfelt by the later Greek; and in the post-Homeric period we have to\nreckon with a momentous growth of the idea of impurity and of a\ncomplex system of purification, especially in regard to homicide,\nleading to important developments in the sphere of law and morality\nwhich I have tried to trace out on other occasions.[290.3] But Homer\nmay well be regarded as the spokesman of a gifted race, the Achaeans,\nas we call them, on whom the burden of the doctrine of purification\nlay lightly, and for whom the ghostly world had comparatively little\nterror or interest. Besides the Achaeans, however, and their kindred\nraces there was the submerged population of the older culture who\nenter into the composition of the various Hellenes of history.\nTherefore the varied development in the post-Homeric period of\ncathartic ideas may be only a renaissance, a recrudescence of forces\nthat were active enough in the second millennium. {291} Attica may\nhave been the home where the old tradition survived, and cathartic\nrites such as the Thargelia and the trial of the axe for murder in the\nBouphonia have the savour of great antiquity. May not the Minoan\nreligion of Crete have been permeated with the ideas of the impurity\nof bloodshed and the craving for purification from sin? For at the\nbeginning of the historic period Crete seems to have been the centre\nof what may be called the cathartic mission; from this island came\nApollo Delphinios, the divine purifier _par excellence_, to this\nisland the god came to be purified from the death of Python; and in\nlater times, Crete lent to Athens its purifying prophet\nEpimenides.[291.1] If we believe, then, that the post-Homeric\nblood-purification was really a recrudescence of the tradition of an\nolder indigenous culture, we should use this as another argument for\nthe view that the Greece of the second millennium was untouched or\nscarcely touched by Babylonian influence. For, as we have seen,\npurification by blood or from blood appears to have been wholly alien\nto Babylonian religious and legal practice.\n\nThe ritual of purification belongs as much to the history of magic as\nreligion. Now, the student of religion is not permitted to refuse to\ntouch the domain of magic; nor can we exclude its consideration even\nfrom the highest topics of religious speculation. Some general remarks\nhave already been made[291.2] concerning the part played by magic\nboth in the worship and in the {292} social life of the peoples that\nwe are comparing. Any exact and detailed comparison would be fruitless\nfor our present purpose; for, while the knowledge of early Babylonian\nmagic is beginning to be considerable, we cannot say that we know\nanything definite concerning the practices in this department of the\nHellenic and adjacent peoples in the early period with which we are\ndealing. From the Homeric poems we can gather little more than that\nmagic of some kind existed; and that Homer and his gifted audience\nprobably despised it as they despised ghosts and demons. It is only by\ninference that we can venture to ascribe to the earliest period of the\nGreek race some of the magic rites that are recorded by the later\nwriters. It would require a lengthy investigation and treatise to\nrange through the whole of Greek ritual and to disentangle and expose\nthe magic element which was undoubtedly there, and which in some\nmeasure is latent in the ritual of every higher religion yet examined.\nBy way of salient illustration we may quote the ceremonies of the\nscapegoat and the \u03c6\u03b1\u03c1\u03bc\u03b1\u03ba\u03cc\u03c2,[292.1] modes of the magic-transference of\nsin and evil; the strewing of sacred food-stuff that is instinct with\ndivine potency over the fields in the Thesmophoria; the rain magic\nperformed by the priests of Zeus Lykaios;[292.2] we hear at Kleonai\nof an official class of \u201cMagi\u201d who controlled the wind and the weather\nby spells, and occasionally in their excitement gashed their own\nhands, like the priests of Baal;[292.3] such blood-magic being\nexplicable as a violent mode of discharging personal energy upon the\nouter objects which one wishes to subdue to one\u2019s will. Another and\nmore {293} thrilling example of blood-magic is the process of\nwater-finding by pouring human blood about the earth, a method\nrevealed by an old legend of Haliartos in Boeotia about the man who\ndesired water, and in order to find it consulted Delphi, and was\nrecommended by the oracle to slay the first person who met him on his\nreturn; his own young son met him first, and the father stabbed him\nwith his sword; the wounded youth ran round about, and wherever the\nblood dripped water sprang up from the earth.[293.1] No one will now\nventure to say that all these things are post-Homeric; the natural\nview is that they were an inheritance of crude and primitive thought\nindigenous to the land. Many of them belong to world-wide custom; on\nthe other hand, some of the striking and specialised rites, such as\nthe blood-magic and the ritual of the \u03c6\u03b1\u03c1\u03bc\u03b1\u03ba\u03cc\u03c2, are not found at\nBabylon.\n\nBut before prejudging the question, some salient and peculiar\ndevelopments of Babylonian magic ought to be considered. One great\nachievement of Mesopotamian civilisation was the early development of\nastrology, to which perhaps the whole world has been indebted for good\nand for evil, and which was associated with magic and put to magic\nuses. Astrological observation led to the attachment of a magic value\nto numbers and to certain special numbers, such as number seven.\nWhether the Judaic name and institution of the Sabbath is of\nBabylonian origin or not, does not concern our question. But it\nconcerns us to know that the seventh days, the 14th, the 21st, and\n28th of certain months, if not of all, were sacred at Babylon, and\nwere days of penance and piacular duties when ordinary occupation was\nsuspended.[293.2] We can discern the origin of the sanctity of this\nnumber: the observation of the {294} seven planets, and the division\nof the lunar month into four quarters of seven days. The early Greeks,\ndoubtless, had their astrological superstitions, as most races have\nhad; the new moon is naturally lucky, the waning moon unlucky; but no\none can discover any numerical or other principle in the Hesiodic\nsystem, which is our earliest evidence of Hellenic lucky and unlucky\ndays. His scheme is presented in na\u00efve confusion, and he concludes\nhumorously, \u201cone man praises one day, one another, and few know\nanything about it.\u201d[294.1] His page of verse reflects the anarchy of\nthe Greek calendars; and we should find it hard to credit that either\nHesiod or the legislators that drew up those had sat attentively at\nthe feet of Babylonian teachers. But a few coincidences may be noted.\nHesiod puts a special tabu on the fifth day of the month; in fact, it\nis the only one in his list that is wholly unlucky, a day when it\nwould seem to be best to do nothing at all, at least outside the\nhouse, for on this day the Erinyes are wandering about.[294.2] Now, a\nBabylonian text published by Dr. Langdon contains the dogma that on\nthe fifth day of Nisan \u201che who fears Marduk and Zarpanit shall not go\nout to work.\u201d[294.3] This Babylonian rule is the earliest example of\nwhat may be strictly called Sabbatarianism, abstinence from work\nthrough fear of offending the high god. Such would probably not be the\ntrue account of Hellenic feeling concerning the \u201cforbidden days,\u201d\nwhich were called \u1f00\u03c0\u03bf\u03c6\u03c1\u03ac\u03b4\u03b5\u03c2 or \u03bc\u03b9\u03b1\u03c1\u03b1\u03af.[294.4] The high god had issued\nto the Hellene no moral commandment about \u201ckeeping the Sabbath-day\nholy\u201d; his reluctance to do certain work on certain days rested on a\nmore primitive sentiment {295} concerning them. Thus it was unlucky\nboth for himself and the city that Alcibiades should return to the\nPiraeus when the Plynteria were going on; for this latter was a\ncathartic ceremony, and evil influences were abroad. Nor, as Xenophon\ndeclares, would any one venture to engage in a serious work on this\nday.[295.1] Nor were these \u03bc\u03b9\u03b1\u03c1\u03b1\u1f76 \u1f91\u03bc\u03ad\u03c1\u03b1\u03b9, like the seventh days of\nthe Babylonian months, necessarily days of gloom when offended deities\nhad to be propitiated; on the contrary, the day of \u03a7\u03cc\u03b5\u03c2 was a day of\nmerry drinking and yet \u03bc\u03b9\u03b1\u03c1\u03ac: in fact, we best understand the latter\nphrase by translating it \u201ctabooed,\u201d rather than \u201csad\u201d or\n\u201cgloomy.\u201d[295.2]\n\nAnother coincidence that may arrest attention is that in Hesiod\u2019s\nscheme the seventh day of the month was sacred because Apollo was born\non it; and throughout the later period this god maintains his\nconnection with the seventh day, also apparently with the first, the\nfourteenth, and the twentieth of the month.[295.3] This almost\ncoincides with the Sabbatical division of the Babylonian months. But\nwe cannot suppose that in Hellas these were days of mortification as\nthey were in the East; else they would not have been associated with\nthe bright deity Apollo.\n\nSuch dubious coincidences, balanced by still more striking\ndiversities, are but frail supports for the hypothesis of\nrace-contact.\n\nIn Babylonian thaumaturgy nothing is more significant than the magic\npower of the Word, whether spoken or written: and the Word, as we have\nnoted, was raised to a cosmic divine power and possessed inherent\ncreative force.[295.4] This is only a reflection upon the heavens of\nthe human use of the magical or mesmeric word or set {296} of words.\nThis use of them is found, indeed, all round the globe. What seems\nunique in the Mesopotamian culture is that religion, religious\nliterature, and poetry should have reached so high a pitch and yet\nnever have risen above or shaken off the magic which is its constant\naccompaniment. Men and gods equally use magic against the demons; the\nmost fervid hymn of praise, the most pathetic litany, is only part of\nan exorcism-ritual; and so inevitably does the shadow of magic dog\nreligion here that Dr. Langdon is justified in his conjecture[296.1]\nthat in a great hymn to Enlil, which contains scarcely a prayer but\nchiefly ecstatic description of his power, the worshipper is really\nendeavouring to charge himself with higher religious magic by this\noutpouring. In fact, here and elsewhere, a magic origin for the\npractice of theologic exegesis may be obscurely traced; narrative\nmight acquire an apotropaeic effect; thus tablets containing the\nnarrative of the achievements of the plague-god, hung up before the\nhouses, could avert pestilence,[296.2] or, again, the reading aloud\nthe tablet narrating the victory of Shamash and Ramman over the seven\ndemons who attacked the moon-god Sin served to defeat the seven demons\nby the same sympathetic magic as would be worked by a dramatic\nrepresentation of that event.[296.3]\n\nThere is no record or hint that the Hellenes recited hymns to Demeter\nor wrote up passages of Homer to avert demons.\n\nIt belongs to the magic use of formulae that minute exactness in\nrespect of every syllable is necessary to the power of the spell or\nthe spell-prayer. An Assyrian {297} king who is consulting the sun-god\nconcerning success in a war with which he is threatened, prays that\nthe ritual which the enemy may be employing may go wrong and fail; and\nin this context occurs the curious petition, \u201cMay the lips of the\npriest\u2019s son hurry and stumble over a word.\u201d[297.1] The idea seems to\nbe that a single slip in the ritual-formulae destroyed their whole\nvalue; and such a view belongs to magic rather than to religion.\n\nNow it is probable that in his earliest mental stage the Hellene had\nbeen in bondage to the religious magic of sacred formulae and sacred\nnames; and as a tradition of that stage, the divine epithet whereby he\nappealed to his deities according to his needs retained always for him\na mysterious potency; but otherwise we have no proof that he worked\nword-magic by means of his sacred texts.\n\nBabylonian sorcery, whether legitimate or illegitimate, was intended\nto work upon or through demons; and its familiarity with the names and\nspecial qualities of demons is its peculiar mark. In the ritual of\nexorcism of the demons, idols play a prominent and often singular\nr\u00f4le. The following performance is probably unique: in the exorcism\nof disease two idols, male and female, were set up before the sick\nman, then the evil spirits of sickness are invited thus: \u201cOh ye all\nwicked, all evil, who pursue so-and-so, if thou art male, here is thy\nwife; if thou art female, here is thy husband.\u201d[297.2] The intent of\nthe exorciser seems to be to attract the demon of disease, of whose\nsex he is not sure, into one or the other of these images, and he\nlures it by amorous enticement into the figure of opposite sex to its\nown; {298} having got the demon into the image, he doubtless takes it\nout and burns or buries it. Or the evil spirit may be attracted from\nthe patient by means of its own image placed near him. One document\nprescribes various images of bestial form, all of which are to be\ntaken by night to the bank of the river, probably that they may be\nthrown in and carry the impurity of sickness away.[298.1] Another\nshows us how to deal with Labartu, the daughter of Anu;[298.2] her\nimage, made of clay, is placed above the head of the sick man, so as\nto draw her or her power out from him; it is then taken out, slain,\nand buried. And this exorcism is all the more notable because Labartu\nis rather an evil goddess than a mere demon, being styled in another\ntext \u201cAugust lady,\u201d \u201cMistress of the dark-haired men.\u201d[298.3] Such\nmagical drama, in which the demon-image might be slain to annul its\npotency, seems characteristically Babylonian: it entered also into the\nritual of the high gods. For, at the feast of the New Year, when Nebo\narrived from Borsippa, two images are brought before him and in his\npresence decapitated with the sword. Dr. Langdon interprets\nthem[298.4] as representing probably \u201cthe demons who aided the dragon\nin her fight with Marduk; they are the captive gods of darkness which\nends with the Equinox.\u201d This is dramatic magic helpful to the gods.\n\nThe elaboration of exorcism must have led to a minuter articulation of\nthe demon-world; the exorciser is most anxious to know and discover\nall about his unseen foes: he gives them a name, a sex if possible,\nand a number: he says of the powerful storm-demons {299} Utuk \u201cthey\nare seven, they are seven, they are neither male nor female, they take\nno wife and beget no children;\u201d[299.1] for knowledge of the name or\nnature of the personality gives magic power.\n\nMany of these examples, which might easily be multiplied, show us\nmagic applied to private but beneficent purposes, the healing of\ndisease, the exorcism of spirits of moral and physical evil. It was\nalso in vogue for national purposes--for instance, for the destruction\nof the enemies of the king; one of our documents describes such a\nprocess as the making of a tallow-image of the enemy of the king and\nbinding his face with a cord, so as to render the living foe impotent\nof will and speech.[299.2]\n\nWe have already noticed that the Babylonian gods themselves work\nmagic, and that it was also worked on behalf of the gods.[299.3] And\nin the ritual-records much that might be interpreted as religion may\nfind its truer account from the other point of view; for instance, the\nritual of placing by the bedside of a sick man the image of Nergal or\nthose of the \u201ctwins who overthrow the wicked Gallu\u201d[299.4] might\nappear at first sight as a religious appeal to the deities to come to\nhis aid; but as in form it is exactly similar to the use made on the\nsame occasion, as noted above, of the images of demons, we may rather\nsuppose that the intention was magical in this act also, and that the\ndivine idols were supposed to combat the demon of sickness by their\nmagical influence. Or, again, in part of the ritual of exorcism we\nfind acts that bear the semblance of sacrifice, such as throwing\nonions and dates into the fire; but they were charged with a curse\nbefore thrown, and the act {300} is more naturally interpreted as a\nmagic transference of evil.[300.1]\n\nFor the purpose of the exorcism, to deliver a \u201cbanned\u201d person, the\nhigh god, Marduk or another, might be called in; but Marduk also works\nthe effect by magic: a rope is woven by Ishtar\u2019s maidens, which Marduk\n(or his priest) turns round the head of the sufferer, then breaks it\nthrough and throws it out into the desert.[300.2] This looks like\nsymbolic magic; the knotted rope represents the ban, which is then\nbroken and thrown away.\n\nThere are many features in these methods of exorcism, such as the\napotropaeic use of idols, that are common to other peoples at a\ncertain stage of culture; there remains much also that seems peculiar\nto Babylon.\n\nBut what is uniquely characteristic of this Mesopotamian people, and\nat the same time most un-Hellenic, is the all-pervading atmosphere of\nmagic, which colours their view of life and their theory of the\nvisible and invisible world. Babylonia, at least, was the one salient\nexception to the historic induction that a distinguished\nwriter[300.3] has recently sanctioned--\u201creligion once firmly\nestablished invariably seeks to exclude magic; and the priest does his\nbest to discredit the magician.\u201d The psalmody of Babylon, with its\noccasional outbursts {301} of inspiration and its gleams of spiritual\ninsight, would have appealed to an Isaiah; its magic would have\nappealed to many a modern African. The Babylonian prophet does not\nfrown on it; the high gods accept it, the priest is its skilled and\nbeneficent practitioner. And at no other point, perhaps, is the\ncontrast between the Hellenic and the Mesopotamian religions so\nglaring as at this.\n\nThis comparison of Eastern and Western ritual may close with some\nobservations on another religious function that may be of some value\nfor the question of early ethnic influence.\n\nIt has been remarked that divination played an important, perhaps a\ndominant part in the Babylonian ritual of sacrifice, divination, that\nis, by inspection of the victim\u2019s entrails, especially the liver; and\nthat this method was adopted in Greece only in the later\ncenturies.[301.1] But there are other salient differences between the\nBabylonian and the more ancient mantic art of Hellas.[301.2] Another\nmethod much in vogue in the former was a curious mode of divining by\nmixing oil and water and watching the movements and behaviour of the\ntwo liquids.[301.3] The first and only indication of a similar\npractice in Hellas is a passage in the _Agamemnon_ of \u00c6schylus, of\nwhich the true meaning has hitherto escaped the interpreters.[301.4]\nAnd here, as usual, an obvious example of Mesopotamian influence on\nHellenic custom belongs only to a late epoch. It is also true {302}\nthat the ancient divination of the two peoples agreed in certain\nrespects, namely, in that both used, like most communities at a\ncertain stage of culture, the auguries of birds and the revelations of\ndreams. As regards the facts relating to the former, we know more\nabout Greece than at present about Babylon. But in the matter of\ndream-oracles, it is manifest that the Hellenic phenomena are entirely\nindependent of Mesopotamian fashion. The Assyrian and Babylonian\ndocuments reveal the fashion of dream-prophecy in its simplest and\nhighest form: the high deity of his own pleasure sends a dream, and\nthe divining priest or skilled interpreter interprets it. No hint has\nso far been detected of that artificial method of provoking prophetic\ndreams by \u201cincubation\u201d or \u1f10\u03b3\u03ba\u03bf\u03af\u03bc\u03b7\u03c3\u03b9\u03c2, the fashion of laying oneself\ndown in some sacred shrine and sleeping with one\u2019s ear to the ground,\nthat was much in vogue in ancient Hellas and still survives in parts\nof the modern Greek world and which may be regarded as an immemorial\ntradition. In this divination, the divine spokesman was the power of\nthe underworld. And this was the most important difference between the\nWestern and the Eastern society in respect of the divine agency. In an\nearly period of Hellenic history that may be called pre-Apolline, the\nearth-mother was conspicuously oracular by the vehicle of dreams; and\nthis power of hers was generally shared by the nether god and buried\nheroes. Nor could the religion of Apollo suppress this \u201cchthonian\u201d\ndivination. But in Mesopotamia the earth-powers and the nether world\nhave no part or lot in this matter. It is almost the prerogative of\nShamash, the sun-god, though Adad is sometimes associated with\nhim;[302.1] {303} both being designated as \u201cB\u0113l\u0113-Biri\u201d or \u201cLords of\nOracles.\u201d[303.1]\n\nAnother remarkable distinction is the fact that the ecstatic or\nenthusiastic form of prophecy, that of the Shaman or Pythoness\npossessed and maddened by the inworking spirit of god, is not found in\nthe Babylonian record, which only attests the cool and scientific\nmethod of interpreting by signs and dreams and the stars. Perhaps\nMesopotamia from the third millennium onward was too civilised to\nadmit the mad prophet and prophetess to its counsels. But such\ncharacters were attached to certain Anatolian cults, especially to\nthose of Kybele,[303.2] and also to the Syrian goddess at\nHierapolis;[303.3] we have evidence of them also in a record of the\nCretan Phaistos in the service of the Great Mother.[303.4] Some\nscholars have supposed that prophetic ecstasy was only a late\nphenomenon in Hellas, because Homer is silent about it. But there are\nreasons for suspecting that demoniac possession was occasionally found\nin the pre-Homeric divination of Hellas,[303.5] an inheritance\nperhaps from the pre-Hellenic period.\n\nIn any case, the theory that primitive Hellas was indebted to\nBabylonia for its divination-system is strongly repugnant to the\nfacts.\n\n\n\n\n CHAPTER XIV.\n Summary of Results.\n\n{304}\n\nThis comparative exposition of the Sumerian-Babylonian and the most\ncomplex and developed pre-Christian religion of Europe cannot claim to\nbe complete or at any point finally decisive, but it may at least have\nhelped to reveal the high value and interest of these phenomena for\nthe workers in this broad field of inquiry. This was one of the main\nobjects of this course. The other was the discussion of a question of\nreligious ethnology, concerning the possible influence of Mesopotamia\non the earliest development of Hellenic religion. The verdict must\nstill remain an open one, awaiting the light of the new evidence that\nthe future will gather. But the evidence at present available--and it\nmay be hoped that none of first importance has been missed--constrains\nus to a negative answer or at least a negative attitude of mind.\n\nConfining ourselves generally to the second millennium B.C., we have\nsurveyed the religions of the adjacent peoples between the valley of\nthe Euphrates and the western shores of the Aegean; and have observed\nthat morphologically they are generally on the same plane of\npolytheism, but that those of Mesopotamia and Hellas reveal inner\ndifferences, striking and vital enough to be serious stumbling-blocks\nto a theory of affiliation. These differences concern the {305}\npersonality of the divinities and their relations to the various parts\nof the world of nature; the most salient being the different attitude\nof the two peoples to the divine luminaries of heaven and to the\nchthonian powers of the lower world. They concern the cosmogonies of\nEast and West, their views of the creation of the world, and the\norigin of man; on these matters, certain myths which are easily\ndiffused do not appear to have reached Hellas in this early period.\nThey concern the religious temperaments of the Babylonian and Hellene,\nwhich appear as separate as the opposite points of the pole; the\nrapturous fanatic and self-abasing spirit of the East contrasting\nvividly with the coolness, civic sobriety, and self-confidence of the\nWest. They concern the eschatologic ideas of the two peoples: the cult\nof the dead and some idea of a posthumous judgment being found in\nearly Hellas, while the former was rare, and the latter is scarcely\ndiscoverable, in Mesopotamia. They concern, finally, the ritual; and\nhere the salient points of contrast are the different views of the\nsacrifice, of the sacrificial victim, and the sacrificial blood; the\ndifferent methods of purification and the expulsion of sin; the ritual\nof sorrow associated with the death of the god, so powerful in\nBabylonia and so insignificant (by comparison) in Hellas; the\nun-Hellenic Mylitta-rite, and the service of the \u201chierodoulai\u201d; and,\nto conclude with the most vital difference of all, the manifestations\nof magic and its relation to the national religions, so complex, so\npregnant for thought and faith, and so dominant in Mesopotamia; on the\nother hand, so insignificant and unobtrusive in Hellas.\n\nTwo other points have been incidentally noticed in our general survey,\nbut it is well in a final summing up to emphasise their great\nimportance as negative {306} evidence. The first concerns the higher\nhistory of European religion: the establishment of religious\nmysteries, a phenomenon of dateless antiquity, and of powerful working\nin Hellenic and Aegean society, has not yet been discovered in the\nMesopotamian culture. The second is a small point that concerns\ncommerce and the trivialities of ritual: the use of incense, universal\nfrom immemorial times in Mesopotamia, and proved by the earliest\ndocuments, begins in Greece not earlier than the eighth century B.C.\nThis little product, afterwards everywhere in great demand, for it is\npleasant to the sense, soothing to the mind, and among the harmless\namenities of worship, was much easier to import than Babylonian\ntheology or more complex ritual. It might have come without these, but\nthey could scarcely have come without it. Yet it did not come to\nHellenic shores in the second millennium. And this trifling negative\nfact is worth a volume of the higher criticism for the decision of our\nquestion.\n\nThose who still cling to the faith that Babylonia was the centre\nwhence emanated much Mediterranean religion, may urge that the\nnegative value of the facts exposed above may be destroyed by future\ndiscoveries. This is true, but our preliminary hypotheses should be\nframed on the facts that are already known. Or they may urge that the\ngeneric resemblances of the two religious systems with which we have\nbeen mainly concerned are also great. But, as has been observed, the\nsame generic resemblance exists between Greek and Vedic polytheism.\nAnd for the question of religious origin general resemblances are far\nless decisive than specific points of identity, such, for instance, as\nthe identity of divine names or of some peculiar divine attribute.\nLater we can trace the migrations of Isis {307} and Mithras throughout\nEurope by their names or by the sistrum or by the type of the fallen\nbull, of the Hittite god Teschub in the Graeco-Roman guise of Jupiter\nDolichenos as far as Hungary, perhaps as far as Scandinavia, by the\nattribute of the hammer. It is just this sort of evidence of any trace\nof Babylonian influence that is lacking among the records of early\nGreece. No single Babylonian name is recognisable in its religious or\nmythologic nomenclature; just as no characteristically Babylonian\nfashion is found in its ritual or in the appurtenances of its\nreligion. This well accords with what is already known of the\nMediterranean history of the second millennium. For long centuries the\nHittite empire was a barrier between the Babylonian power and the\ncoastlands of Asia Minor.\n\nSo far, then, as our knowledge goes at present, there is no reason for\nbelieving that nascent Hellenism, wherever else arose the streams that\nnourished its spiritual life, was fertilised by the deep springs of\nBabylonian religion or theosophy.\n\n{308}\n\n\n\n\n INDEX OF NAMES AND\n SUBJECTS.\n\n{309}\n\nAdad (Ramman), 62, 101-102, 142, 143.\n\nAdonis, 251, 255, 273-274.\n\nAlilat, 44.\n\nAllatu, 57, 206, 218.\n\nAniconic worship, 225-230.\n\nAnimism, 43.\n\nAnthropomorphism, in Greece, 10-12, 75-80; in Mesopotamia, 51-52,\n55-57; in Canaan, 57-58; in Hittite religion, 60-61; in Phrygia,\n63-64; in Crete, 64-75.\n\nAphrodite, Cretan-Mycenaean, 96; in Cyprus, 261; Ourania, 272-273.\n\nApollo, 49, 295; theory of Lycian origin, 90; Agyieus, 136;\nDelphinios, 291; Lykeios, 76.\n\nArabian divinities, 85, 263.\n\nAramaic divinities, 85.\n\nArtemis, of Brauron, 244; in Cilicia, 89; at Ephesos, 91; aboriginal\nMediterranean goddess, 96.\n\nAryan migration into Greece, 34.\n\nAsshur, 58, 225.\n\nAstarte, 57, 58, 59, 86, 107.\n\nAstral cults, in Mesopotamia, 102; in Greece, 111-114.\n\nAtargatis (Derketo), 57.\n\nAthena, aboriginal Mediterranean goddess, 96.\n\nAthtar, Arabian deity, 85, 263.\n\nAttar, in Arabia, 168.\n\nAttis, 91, 254-258, 266; \u03a0\u03b1\u03c0\u03b1\u1fd6\u03bf\u03c2, 95.\n\nAxe-cult, in Crete, 70, 93.\n\nBaalbec, 273-274.\n\nBaptism, 284.\n\nBau, Babylonian goddess, 263.\n\nBelit, Babylonian goddess, 83, 84, 104.\n\nBirds, cult of, 63, 69-73.\n\nBoghaz-Keui, reliefs of, 47, 60, 125; cuneiform texts at, 61.\n\nBorrowing, tests of, in religion, 37.\n\nBoundaries, sanctity of, 127-128.\n\nBouphonia, in Attica, 237-238.\n\nBritomartis, 170.\n\nBull, Hittite worship of, 252-253.\n\nBurial-customs, 208-210.\n\nByblos, Adonis-rites at, 273-274.\n\nChemosh, of Moab, 59, 86.\n\nCilicia, Assyrian conquests in, 35 (_vide_ Typhoeus).\n\nCities, religious origin of, 118.\n\nCommunion-service with dead, 209.\n\nConfessional-service in Mesopotamia, 151, 288.\n\nConvent-system in Mesopotamia, 268-269.\n\nCook, Mr., 66, 69, 73.\n\nCosmogonies, 179-182.\n\nCourtesans, sacred, 269-283.\n\nCowley, Dr., 90.\n\nCreation of man, 184-185.\n\nCyprus, religious prostitution in, 273-274.\n\nDays, sacred character of, 293-295.\n\nDead, worship of, 122, 210, 211, 213; tendance of, 211, 212; evocation\nof, 214-215.\n\nDeath of deity, 27-28, 238-240, 249-263.\n\nDemeter, 80.\n\nDemonology, 154, 206-208, 297-300.\n\nDionysos, 239-240; marriage with Queen-Archon, 267.\n\nDivination, through sacrifice, 248-249, 301-302; ecstatic, 303.\n\nDualism, 19, 158.\n\n{310}\n\nEa, Babylonian god, 53, 102, 117, 121.\n\nEagle, Hittite worship of, 63.\n\nEarth, divinity of, in Mesopotamia, 103; in Greece, 114.\n\nEnlil, Babylonian god, 59, 103-104, 142.\n\nEros, cosmic principle, 181.\n\nEschatology, 204-220.\n\nEsmun, Phoenician god, 57.\n\nEunostos, Tanagran vegetation-hero, 262.\n\nEunuchs, in Phrygian religion, 92, 256-258.\n\nEuyuk, relief at, 61.\n\nEvans, Sir Arthur, 17, 30, 64, 69-71, 73-74, 91, 97, 211, 227.\n\nEvil gods, 19, 142-143.\n\nFaith, not a religious virtue in Greece, 23-24.\n\nFanaticism, in Mesopotamia, 197-203.\n\nFassirlir, Lion-goddess at, 88.\n\nFather-god, 48, 95.\n\nFetichism, 225-228.\n\nFire-god, in Greece and Babylon, 146-147, 285.\n\nFire-purification, 285-286.\n\nFrazer, Dr., 17, 60, 79, 89, 257 n. 1, 277, 282.\n\nFunctional deities (Sonderg\u00f6tter), 110, 133.\n\nGoddess-worship, importance of, 5, 81-82; in Mesopotamia, 17, 82-84;\namong Western Semites, 85-86; Hittites, 87-88; on Asia-Minor coast,\n88-91; in Crete, 92-94; Aryan tradition of, 94-96; in early Greece,\n96-98.\n\nHammer, sacred Hittite symbol, 63.\n\nHammurabi, code of, 129-132, 212.\n\nHarpalyke, legend of, 239.\n\nHarrison, Miss Jane, 67, 69-70.\n\nHartland, Mr. Sidney, 271 n. 1, 280-281.\n\nHearth-worship, 132-133.\n\nHelios, at Tyre and Palmyra, 107; in Greece, 110-111.\n\nHell, Babylonian conception of, 205-206.\n\nHera, ? Aryan-Hellenic, 96; \u03b2\u03bf\u1ff6\u03c0\u03b9\u03c2, 76.\n\nHierodoulai, 272.\n\nHittite ethnology, 36.\n\nHogarth, Dr., 74.\n\nHomicide, Babylonian laws concerning, 129-130; Hellenic religious\nfeeling about, 138-140; purification from, 287-288.\n\nHyakinthos, 262.\n\nIbriz, Hittite monument at, 47.\n\nIdolatry, in Greece, 12-13, 228.\n\nIncense, 231-232, 306.\n\nIncest, Babylonian laws concerning, 131.\n\nIncubation, divination by, 302.\n\nIra, goddess of plague, 143.\n\nIshtar, 55, 83, 103, 120, 142, 164-167; descent of, 204, 208.\n\nJastrow, Prof., 37, 58.\n\nKatharsis, Homeric, 289-291.\n\nKingship, divine character of, in Mesopotamia, 119, 122-123; among\nWestern Semites, 123; among Hittites, 124-125; in Phrygia, 125; in\nCrete, 125-126; in Greece, 126-127.\n\nKnots, magic use of, 300.\n\nKybele, 63, 91-92, 109, 170, 226.\n\nLabartu, demon-goddess, 298.\n\nLangdon, Dr., 56, 205 n. 1, 296, 298.\n\nLeto ? Lycian origin of, 89-90.\n\nLeukothea, 261.\n\nLinos, 197, 262.\n\nLion-divinity, Phrygian Hittite Mesopotamian type, 62-63.\n\nLykaon, Arcadian sacrifice of, 239.\n\nMa, Anatolian goddess, 169, 272.\n\nMagic, in Greece, 158, 176-179, 292-293; in Babylon, 291-301.\n\nMale deity, predominant among Semites, 85-86; at Olba and Tarsos and\nin Lycia, 89.\n\nMannhardt, 276.\n\nMarduk, 103, 120, 265.\n\nMarriage of god and goddess, 263-268; marriage ceremonies in Babylon,\n134.\n\nMercy, attribute of divinity, 158-160.\n\nMinotaur, 74, 266-267.\n\nMitani inscriptions, 46.\n\nMonotheism, 187-189.\n\nMonsters, in Cretan art, 74-75.\n\nMoon-worship, Semitic, 85; Hellenic, 112.\n\nMorality and religion, 20.\n\nMylitta, rites of, 269-271.\n\n{311}\n\nNature-worship, 40-41, 97; in Mesopotamia, 99-106; West-Semitic,\n106-107; Hittite, 108; Hellenic, 110-114.\n\nNebo, 52, 102, 119, 121, 188.\n\nNergal, 101, 142.\n\n\u039d\u03b7\u03c6\u03ac\u03bb\u03b9\u03b1, wineless offerings, 112.\n\nNinib, 101, 117, 127, 263.\n\nNinlil, 84.\n\nNinni, relief of, 52.\n\nNusku, 117.\n\nOmnipotence, divine attribute, 173-175.\n\nOrotal, Arabian deity, 44.\n\nPan-Babylonism, 30-33.\n\nPantheism, 161-162.\n\nPerjury, 147-149.\n\nPersonal religion, 191-196.\n\nPessimism, in Babylonian hymns, 155.\n\nPetrie, Professor, 223.\n\nPhallic cults, 228-230.\n\nPhratric system, religious sanction of, in Greece, 138; non-existent\n(?) in Mesopotamia, 138.\n\nPoseidon, 146.\n\nPunishment, posthumous, 215-216.\n\nPurification, 155-158, 282-291.\n\nPurity, 163-172.\n\nQadistu, meaning of, 269.\n\nRamman, _vide_ Adad.\n\nRamsay, Sir William, 117, 170, 273, 277.\n\nRewards, posthumous, 216-218.\n\nSacrament, 25-26, 236-242, 250.\n\nSacrifice, theory of, 24-26, 235-236, 240-242; bloodless, 230-231;\nchthonian, 233; human, 244-246; at oath-taking, 247-248; \u201csober,\u201d\n231-232; vicarious, 242-244.\n\nSandon, 252-253.\n\nSayce, Professor, 169, 253.\n\nScapegoat, 247.\n\nScience, relation to religion, in Greece and Mesopotamia, 23.\n\nSentimentality, in Babylonian religion, 196-197.\n\nSex, confusion of, 58-60.\n\nShamash, Babylonian sun-god, 99, 100, 120-121, 127, 142, 208, 302.\n\nSin, Babylonian moon-god, 99, 100.\n\nSin, non-moral ideas of, 152-154.\n\nSinjerli, relief at, 61.\n\nSmith, Prof. Robertson, 25, 226, 235, 238, 241.\n\nSnake-goddess, in Crete, 64-65; snake-cult, 78.\n\nTammuz, 105-106, 219-220, 242, 250-263.\n\nTanit, Carthaginian goddess, 168.\n\nTaurobolion, 253.\n\nTemples, erection of, 223-225; deification of, 225.\n\nTeshup, Hittite god, 46, 62.\n\nTeukridai, at Olba, 89.\n\nTheanthropic animal, 77-78.\n\nTheism, 7-9, 40-49.\n\nTheriomorphism, in Egypt, 15; in Mesopotamia, 14, 52-55; in other\nSemitic communities, 57-58; Hittite, 60-62; in Crete, 66-75; in\nGreece, 75-80.\n\nTi\u00e2mat, in Babylonian cosmogony, 181.\n\nTiele, Professor, 40, 42, 81, 199.\n\nTralles, religious prostitutes at, 275.\n\nTrinities, 185-187.\n\nTruthfulness, religious virtue, 148.\n\nTyphoeus, legend of, 182-183.\n\nVan Gennep, 279.\n\nVer Sacrum, in Greece, 137.\n\nVirgin-goddesses, not found among Aryans, 95; Mediterranean, 96.\n\nVirginity, sacrifice of, 269-281.\n\nVirgin-Mother, idea of, 166-171.\n\nWestermarck, Professor, 41 n. 1, 278.\n\nWilde, Dr., 1.\n\nWord, mystic value of, 15, 56, 57, 176-179, 295-297.\n\nWorship, ambiguity in term, 67, 77.\n\nZeus, 49; grave of, in Crete, 93, 259-260; Herkeios, 149-150; Horios,\n152; Kouros, 259; Panamaros in Caria, 90; Polieus, 238; Thunderer in\nBithynia, 95.\n\n\n\n\n ENDNOTES.\n\n CHAPTER I NOTES\n\n[11.1] I am aware that there are exceptions to this principle, which I\npropose to consider in a future course; no single formula can ever sum\nup all the phenomena of a complex religion.\n\n[14.1] _Vide_ Langdon, in _Transactions of Congress of the History of\nReligions_, 1908, vol. i. p. 251.\n\n[15.1] P. 382, C.\n\n[15.2] _Vide_ Petrie, in _Transactions of Congress of the History of\nReligions_, 1908, vol. i. p. 192.\n\n[17.1] _Archiv f\u00fcr Religionswissenschaft_, 1904.\n\n[17.2] _Vide_ Jastrow, _Religion Babyloniens u. Assyriens_, vol. i. p.\n545.\n\n[20.1] _Vide_ my _Evolution of Religion_, pp. 139-152.\n\n[21.1] 1. 132.\n\n[25.1] _Transactions of Congress of History of Religions_, 1908, vol.\ni. p. 192.\n\n[25.2] _Hibbert Journal_, 1904, \u201cSacrificial Communion in Greek\nReligion.\u201d\n\n\n\n\n CHAPTER II NOTES\n\n[31.1] _Vide_ the critical remarks on such a view by Prof. Jastrow in\n_Transactions of the Third International Congress of the History of\nReligions_, vol. i. pp. 234-237.\n\n[34.1] Vide _Annual of the British School_, 1909, 1910.\n\n[35.1] _Vide_ Zimmern, _Die Keilinschriften und das alte Testament_\n(K.A.T.)3, pp. 37-38.\n\n\n\n\n CHAPTER III NOTES\n\n[40.1] _Vide supra_, p. 9.\n\n[41.1] Westermarck maintains the view in his _Origin and Development\nof Moral Ideas_, pp. 663-664, that in many savage religions the gods\nhave no concern with ordinary morality; but the statistics he gives\nneed careful testing.\n\n[42.1] _Op. cit._, p. 170; as far as I know, only one fact might be\ncited in support of Tiele\u2019s view, a fact mentioned by Jastrow, _op.\ncit._, p. 52, that the ideogram of Enlil, the god of Nippur, signifies\nLord-Daimon (Lil = Daimon); but we might equally well interpret it\n\u201cLord of Winds.\u201d\n\n[42.2] _Vide_ H\u00fcsing, _Der Zagros und seine V\u00f6lker_, p. 16.\n\n[43.1] _Vide_ Plate in Winckler, \u201cDie Gesetze Hammurabi,\u201d in _Der Alte\nOrient_, 1906.\n\n[43.2] Perrot et Chipiez, _Histoire de l\u2019art, Assyrie_, p. 109, fig.\n29 (Roscher, _Lexikon_, ii. p. 2358).\n\n[44.1] 3, 8.\n\n[45.1] Messerschmidt, _Die Hettiter_, p. 9; Stanley Cook, _Religion of\nAncient Palestine_, p. 73.\n\n[45.2] So Cook, _op. cit._, p. 73, who interprets her as Astarte.\n\n[45.3] Winckler, _Tel-El-Amarna Letters_, 17.\n\n[46.1] _Vide_ Winckler, _Mittheil des deutsch. Orientgesellsch._,\n1907, No. 35.\n\n[46.2] Winckler, _Die V\u00f6lker Vorderasiens_, p. 21; Messerschmidt,\n_op. cit._, p. 5; Kennedy, _Journ. Royal Asiat. Soc._, 1909, p. 1110,\ndeclares that their language has been proved to belong to the\nUral-Altaic group and to be akin to Vannic.\n\n[46.3] _Vide_ Messerschmidt, p. 25 (plate); Von Oppenheim, _Der\nTel-Halaf und die verschleierte Gottin_, p. 17, publishes a somewhat\nsimilar figure holding a kind of club.\n\n[47.1] Perrot et Chipiez, _Histoire de l\u2019art_, iv. p. 354 (fig.).\n\n[47.2] _Vide_ Garstang, _The Land of the Hittites_, pl. lxiii.-lxxi.;\nMesserschmidt, _op. cit._, pp. 26-27.\n\n[48.1] e.g. _Outlines of Greek Religion_, by R. Karsten, p. 6.\n\n[48.2] _Vide supra_, p. 46; cf. E. Meyer, _Das erste Auftreten der\nArier in der Geschichte in Sitzungsb. d. konigl. Preuss. Akad.\nWissensch._, 1908, pp. 14 _seq._\n\n\n\n\n CHAPTER IV NOTES\n\n[52.1] _Vide supra_, p. 43.\n\n[52.2] _Vide supra_, p. 43.\n\n[52.3] _Vide_ Roscher, _Lexikon_, vol. iii. p. 48, _s.v._ \u201cNebo.\u201d\n\n[52.4] _Vide_ Roscher, _op. cit._, iii. p. 67 (_Mitth. aus dem Orient.\nSammlung. zu Berlin_, Heft xi. p. 23).\n\n[52.5] _Monuments of Nineveh_, i. p. 65 (Roscher, _op. cit._, ii. p.\n2350).\n\n[52.6] P. 43.\n\n[52.7] Roscher, _op. cit._, vol. iv. p. 29.\n\n[53.1] Roscher, _op. cit._, iii. p. 254-255.\n\n[53.2] Schrader, _Keil. Bibl._, ii. p. 141.\n\n[53.3] _Frag. Hist. Graec._, ii. p. 496. Frag. 1, 3.\n\n[53.4] _Nineveh and Babylon_, pl. vi. (Roscher, _op. cit._, iii. p.\n580).\n\n[54.1] Layard, _Nineveh and Babylon_, fig. 2. Roscher, _op. cit._,\niii. p. 580.\n\n[54.2] In the _Amer. Journ. Archael._, 1887, pp. 59-60, Frothingham\ncites examples from Assyrian cylinders of birds on pillars or altar\nwith worshippers approaching: one of these shows us a seated god in\nfront of the bird (pl. vii. 1); on another, a warrior approaches a\ntabernacle, within which is a horse\u2019s head on an altar, and near it a\nbird on a column (pl. vii. 2; cf. the boundary-stone of Nebuchadnezzar\nI., published by Miss Harrison, _Trans. Congr. Hist. Rel._, 1908, vol.\nii. p. 158); we find also a winged genius adoring an altar on which is\na cock. But cocks and other birds were sacrificial animals in\nBabylonian ritual, and might be interpreted in all these cases as mere\ntemporary embodiments of the divinity\u2019s power; the human-shaped\ndivinity is once represented by the side of the bird, and might always\nhave been imagined as present though unseen.\n\n[55.1] Roscher, _Lexikon_, iii. p. 268.\n\n[55.2] _Vide_ chapter i. pp. 14-15.\n\n[56.1] Langdon, _Sumerian and Babylonian Psalms_, p. 127.\n\n[56.2] Schrader, _Keilinsch. Bibl._, ii. pp. 79, 83.\n\n[56.3] _Op. cit._, p. xix.\n\n[57.1] Langdon, _op. cit._, p. 159, n. 18. Compare with this the\npersonification of abstract ideas; the children of Shamash are Justice\n(Kettu) and Law (M\u00e9saru), and remain impersonal agencies, unlike the\nGreek \u0398\u03ad\u03bc\u03b9\u03c2. A deified Righteousness (sedek) has been inferred from\npersonal names that occur in the Amarna documents; _vide_ Cook,\n_Palestine_, p. 93.\n\n[57.2] _Vide_ his article on \u201cEschmun-Asklepios,\u201d in _Orient. Stud. zu\nTh. N\u00f6ldeke am 70ten Geburtstag gewidmet_: the proofs are doubtful,\nbut snake-worship in Phoenicia is attested by Sanchuniathon, Eus.\n_Praep. Ev._, 1, 10, 46.\n\n[57.3] Cook, _Religion of Ancient Palestine_, pp. 30-31.\n\n[58.1] _Praep. Ev._, 1, 10, 31. Glaser, _Mittheilungen uber einige\nSabaeische Inschriften_, p. 3-4, gives reasons for affirming the\nworship of black bulls in heathen Arabia; but it is not clear in what\nrelation these stood to the high personal divinities.\n\n[58.2] _Op. cit._, p. 545.\n\n[59.1] Langdon, _op. cit._, p. 223.\n\n[59.2] Zimmern, _Babyl. Hymn. w. Gebete_, p. 11.\n\n[59.3] _C. I. Sem._, 250.\n\n[60.1] For references, _vide_ my _Cults of the Greek States_, vol.\nii., \u201cAphrodite,\u201d R. 113a.\n\n[60.2] _Vide_ Head, _Hist. Num._, p. 586.\n\n[61.1] Perrot et Chipiez, _Histoire de l\u2019art_, iv. fig. 329; cf.\nGarstang, _op. cit._, p. 256.\n\n[61.2] _Supra_, p 43.\n\n[61.3] Messerschmidt, _op. cit._, p. 23.\n\n[61.4] _Journ. Roy. Asiat. Soc._, 1909, p. 971.\n\n[62.1] Luschan, _Ausgrabungen in Sendschirli_, Heft iii. Taf. 42, 43;\ncf. Garstang, _op. cit._, p. 274.\n\n[62.2] _Vide_ Roscher, _op. cit._, iii., _s.v._ \u201cRamman.\u201d\n\n[62.3] Perrot et Chipiez, _op. cit._, iv. p. 549, fig. 276; cf. fig.\n278.\n\n[62.4] _Op. cit._, ii. pp. 642-644.\n\n[63.1] Cumont, _Voyage d\u2019exploration dans le Pont_, p. 139.\n\n[64.1] _Vide_ Perrot et Chipiez, _op. cit._, vol. iv. fig. 107; cf.\nthe relief-figure of Cybele on a Phrygian rock-tomb, wearing on her\nhead a polos, with two lions rampant raising their paws to her head,\npublished by Ramsay, _Hell. Journ._, 1884, vol. v. p. 245; cf. Perrot\net Chipiez, iv. fig. 110 (\u201clittle more than the earlier columnar form\nof the goddess slightly hewn,\u201d Evans, _Hell. Journ._, 1901, p. 166).\n\n[64.2] _Vide_ \u201cMycenaean Stone and Pillar-cult,\u201d _Hell. Journ._, 1901.\n\n[65.1] Evans, \u201cReport of Excavations,\u201d _Ann. Brit. School_, 1902-1903,\np. 92, fig. 63.\n\n[65.2] _Ann. Brit. School_, 1900-1901, p. 29, fig. 9.\n\n[65.3] Published by Evans in _Hell. Journ._, 1901, p. 170, fig. 48.\n\n[65.4] _Vide_ Paribeni\u2019s publication in the _Monumenti Antichi della\nAccademia dei Lincei_, 1908 (xix.), pp. 6-86, pls. i.-iii.\n\n[65.5] Cf. _Ann. Brit. School_, 1900-1901, p. 59, fig. 38; young god\nwith shield and spear and lioness or mastiff by his side, on clay seal\nimpression.\n\n[69.1] _Ann. Brit. School_, 1901-1902, p. 29.\n\n[70.1] _Op. cit._, p. 98, fig. 56.\n\n[70.2] _Trans. Cong. Hist. Relig._, ii. p. 155.\n\n[70.3] P. 65.\n\n[71.1] _Op. cit._, i. p. 254.\n\n[71.2] _Ann. Brit. School_, 1900-1901, p. 29, n. 3.\n\n[71.3] _Ib._, p. 98.\n\n[72.1] Lucian, _De Dea Syr._, 34; cf. Diod. Sic. 2, 5. Dove with\n\u201cAstarte\u201d on coins of Askalon, autonomous and imperial, Head, _Hist.\nNum._, p. 679.\n\n[72.2] According to Aelian, certain sparrows were sacred to Asklepios,\nand the Athenians put a man to death for slaying one (_Var. Hist._, v.\n17). Did Asklepios as an anthropomorphic divinity emerge from the\nsparrow? What, then, should we say of the sacred snake who might\nbetter claim to be his parent? Was Hermes as a god evolved from a\nsacred cock? Miss Harrison believes it (_op. cit._, ii. p. 161),\nbecause he is represented on a late Greek patera standing before a\ncock on a pillar. But the cock came into Europe perhaps one thousand\nyears after Hermes had won to divine manhood in Arcadia. On the same\nevidence we might be forced to say that the goddess Leto came from the\ncock (_vide_ Roscher\u2019s _Lexikon_, ii. p. 1968, cock on gem in Vienna,\nwith inscription \u039b\u03b7\u03c4\u03c9 \u039c\u03c5\u03c7\u03b9\u03b1).\n\n[73.1] _Ann. Brit. School_, 1900-1901, p. 30; cf. the paper by M.\nSalomon Reinach, \u201cAnthropologie,\u201d vi., \u201cLa sculpture en Europe avant\nles influences Gr\u00e9co-Romaines,\u201d p. 561.\n\n[74.1] Evans in _Hell. Journ._, 1901, p. 169; Winter, _Arch. Anz._,\n1890, p. 108.\n\n[74.2] Hogarth, _Hell. Journ._, 1902, p. 92.\n\n[74.3] _Vide_ gem from Vapheio, published by Evans, _Hell. Journ._,\n1901, p. 101, fig. 1; cf. p. 117, figs. 13, 14.\n\n[75.1] Hogarth, _op. cit._, pp. 79, 91.\n\n[75.2] Evans, _Palace of Cnossus_, p. 18, fig. 7a.\n\n[76.1] _Vide_ my _Cults_, iv. p. 115.\n\n[77.1] _Protrept._, p. 34, P.\n\n[77.2] _Protrept._, p. 34, P.; Aelian, _Nat. An._, xii. 5. Similarly,\nwhen Diodorus tells us that \u201cthe Syrians honoured doves as goddesses\u201d\n(2, 5), the statement lets little light on the real religious feeling\nand religious practice of the people.\n\n[77.3] _Op. cit._, pp. 129-152.\n\n[78.1] See my _Cults_, v. pp. 165, 167, R. 79.\n\n[78.2] _Anthropological Essays presented to E. B. Tylor_, p. 99.\n\n[78.3] _Cults_, iv. p. 115.\n\n[78.4] This view of the passage is more probable than that which I\nhave taken in _Cults_, i. p. 37 (R. 8, p. 141).\n\n[79.1] _Commentary on Pausanias_, vol. iii. p. 55.\n\n[80.1] _Bull. Corr. Hell._, 1899, p. 635 (plate).\n\n\n\n\n CHAPTER V NOTES\n\n[82.1] _Archiv. f\u00fcr Religionswissenschaft_, 1904, \u201cSociologic\nhypotheses concerning the position of women in ancient religion.\u201d\n\n[83.1] _Vide supra_, p. 43.\n\n[83.2] _Vide_ Jastrow, _op. cit._, i. p. 216.\n\n[83.3] Zimmern, _Bab. Hymn. u. Gebete_, p. 20.\n\n[83.4] _Ib._, p. 24.\n\n[84.1] A. Jeremias in Roscher\u2019s _Lexikon_, vol. iii. p. 62, _s.v._\n\u201cNebo.\u201d\n\n[84.2] _Zeitschr. f. Assyriologie_, 1890, p. 72.\n\n[84.3] Jastrow, _op. cit._, vol. i. p. 525; cf. the inscription of the\nlast of the Babylonian kings, Nabuna\u2019id, who prays to Ningal, the\nmother of the great gods, to plead for him before Sin (_Keilinschr.\nBibl._, iii. p. 103).\n\n[85.1] _Der Alte Orient_ (1904), p. 20.\n\n[85.2] Weber, _op. cit._, p. 19.\n\n[85.3] _C. I. Sem._, 2, 1, n. 2, 113.\n\n[85.4] Sanda, _Der Alte Orient_, \u201cDie Aram\u00e4er,\u201d p. 24.\n\n[85.5] Lagrange, _\u00c9tudes sur les religions s\u00e9mitiques_, p. 492.\n\n[86.1] xxi. 29.\n\n[86.2] Von Landau, _Die ph\u00f6nizischen Inschriften_, p. 13.\n\n[86.3] _C. I. Sem._, 1, ii. ad init.\n\n[86.4] _Ib._, 1, 7, p. 2.\n\n[86.5] Von Landau, _op. cit._, p. 14.\n\n[87.1] _Adonis, Attis, Osiris_, 2nd ed., p. 108; Garstang, _op. cit._,\npl. lxv.\n\n[87.2] Messerschmidt, _Die Hettiter_, pp. 27, 28.\n\n[87.3] Perrot et Chipiez, _op. cit._, figs. 280, 281.\n\n[87.4] Garstang, _op. cit._, pl. lxxiii. pp. 262-263, 267-268.\n\n[88.1] _Der Alte Orient_, 1908; _Der Tel-Halaf und die verschleierte\nG\u00f6ttin_, pp. 33, 36.\n\n[88.2] _Vide_ Cook, _Religion of Ancient Palestine_, p. 73; Winckler,\n_Tel-el-Amarna Tablets_; Garstang, _op. cit._, p. 348.\n\n[88.3] Published by Ramsay, _Cities of St. Paul_, p. 134, fig. 7.\n\n[88.4] Garstang, _op. cit._, pp. 175-176, interprets the figure as a\npriest.\n\n[89.1] _Vide_ my _Cults_, vol. ii., Artemis-References, R. 79m.\n\n[89.2] _Adonis_, etc., 2nd ed., p. 129.\n\n[89.3] _Religion of the Semites_, p. 52.\n\n[89.4] In lecture delivered in Oxford on \u201cApollo,\u201d and published 1909;\ncf. his article in _Hermes_, 1903, p. 575.\n\n[90.1] _Cults_, vol. ii., \u201cArtemis\u201d Coin-Pl. B, n. 28.\n\n[90.2] Pp. 651, 652, 665.\n\n[91.1] The inscriptions throwing light on the cult at Panamara are\ncontained in _Bull. Corr. Hell._, 11, 12, 15 (years 1887, 1888, 1891);\ncf. the article in Roscher\u2019s _Lexikon_, vol. iii., _s.v._ \u201cPanamaros.\u201d\n\n[91.2] _Vide_ my _Cults_, vol. iv. p. 173; cf. _ib._, _Apollo Geogr.\nReg._, _s.v._ \u201cPhrygia,\u201d p. 452, and R. 57.\n\n[91.3] The type with many breasts might have been suggested by\nBabylonian symbolism, for the Goddess of Nineveh is spoken of as\nfour-breasted (_vide_ Jeremias in Roscher\u2019s _Lexikon_, vol. ii.,\n_s.v._ \u201cNebo\u201d), but Dr. Hogarth\u2019s excavations have shown that this\nform of the Ephesian idol is late.\n\n[92.1] _Hell. Journ._, 1901, p. 168.\n\n[93.1] _Vide op. cit._, p. 108, fig. 4, and p. 175, fig. 51.\n\n[93.2] _Cults_, vol. i. pp. 36-38; vol. iii. pp. 294-296.\n\n[93.3] Cf. those cited in note 1 above, and the shield-bearing figure\npainted on the tomb of Milato in Crete (_ib._ p. 174).\n\n[94.1] _Mutter Erde_, 1905.\n\n[94.2] _Vide_ my _Cults_, v. pp. 345-365.\n\n[95.1] The Celtic question is more difficult: Prof. Rhys in his\nexcellent paper on Celtic religion, read as a Presidential address at\nthe Congress of the History of Religions, 1908 (_Transactions_, ii.\npp. 201-225), gives the impression that the goddess was more in\nevidence than the god in old Irish mythology, and doubts whether to\nattribute this to the non-Indogermanic strain in the population; he\nnotices also certain \u201cmatriarchal\u201d phenomena in the religion; cf.\n_ib._, p. 242.\n\n[95.2] Herod., 1, 94; 4, 45 (note here the Thracian associations of\nManes).\n\n[96.1] The Romanised-Celtic cult of a vague group of \u201cSanctae\nVirgines,\u201d attested by an inscription found near Lyons (Rhys, _Hibbert\nLectures_, p. 102), counts very little against this induction.\n\n[96.2] The warlike character of these Virgin Goddesses, Athena,\nIshtar, might be explained on a sociologic hypothesis that would also\naccount for Amazonism; in modern Albania the girl who refuses marriage\nis allowed to wear man\u2019s dress and to bear arms, vide _Journ. Anthrop.\nInst._, 1910, p. 460.\n\n[96.3] But in a recent paper (_Athenische Mittheilungen_, 1911, p. 27)\nFrickenhaus and M\u00fcller give reasons for dating the earliest Heraeum\nto the eighth century. At any rate, the goddess-cult in this locality\nwas vastly older.\n\n\n\n\n CHAPTER VI NOTES\n\n[100.1] _Bab. Hym. u. Gebet._, p. 11.\n\n[100.2] Jastrow, _op. cit._, p. 230.\n\n[100.3] In Roscher\u2019s _Lexikon_, ii. 2371; cf. _ib._, 2367.\n\n[101.1] Roscher, _Lexikon_, iii. p. 364.\n\n[101.2] Jeremias, _op. cit._, iii. p. 250.\n\n[101.3] Langdon, _Sum. Babyl. Psalms_, p. 83.\n\n[101.4] Roscher, _Lexikon_, p. 252.\n\n[102.1] Jastrow, _op. cit._, p. 484.\n\n[102.2] Roscher, _Lexikon_, iii., _s.v._ \u201cNebo.\u201d\n\n[102.3] As Jeremias supposes, Roscher, _op. cit._, iii. p. 60.\n\n[102.4] _Vide_ Tiele, _Histoire des anc. relig._, p. 242.\n\n[103.1] _Vide_ Winckler, _Himmels und Weltenbild der Babylonier_, pp.\n10-11. Jeremias, Roscher, _Lexikon_, iii. p. 58. But Jastrow, _op.\ncit._, p. 84, seems to believe in the planetary origin of Ishtar, and\nwould explain her character as the planet Venus.\n\n[103.2] Winckler, _ib._, p. 11.\n\n[103.3] Roscher, _Lexikon_, iii. pp. 66-67.\n\n[104.1] Langdon, _Hymn_ xiii. p. 199.\n\n[104.2] _Ib._, p. 221.\n\n[104.3] _Ib._, p. 277.\n\n[104.4] _Ib._, p. 223.\n\n[104.5] Jastrow, _op. cit._, p. 55.\n\n[104.6] Langdon, _op. cit._, p. 257.\n\n[105.1] Pinches, _Babylonian and Assyrian Religions_, p. 104; cf.\n\u201cNidaba,\u201d Jastrow, _op. cit._, p. 95, a goddess of agriculture.\n\n[105.2] \u201cDer Babylonische Gott Tamuz,\u201d in _Abh. K\u00f6nig. S\u00e4chs. Gesell.\nWiss._, xxvii. (1909).\n\n[105.3] Zimmern regards Dumuzi or Damuzi as shortened from\nDumuzi-Abzu, but Jastrow (_op. cit._, p. 90) would keep the two names\ndistinct, and interprets Dumuzi simply as \u201cSon of Life.\u201d\n\n[105.4] _Vide_ Zimmern in _Sitzungsb. K\u00f6nig. S\u00e4chs. Gesell. Wiss._,\n1907.\n\n[105.5] Zimmern, _ib._, p. 208; cf. Langdon, _op. cit._, p. 307.\n\n[106.1] Zimmern, _Sitzungsb. K\u00f6nig. S\u00e4chs. Gesell. Wiss._, p. 220.\n\n[106.2] Eus., _Praep. Ev._, 1, 9, 29.\n\n[106.3] _Ib._, 1, 10, 6.\n\n[107.1] Eus., _Praep. Ev._, 1, 10, 7.\n\n[107.2] _Rel. of Sem._, pp. 96-100.\n\n[107.3] Polyb., 7, 9 (the Carthaginian oath of alliance with Philip of\nMacedon).\n\n[108.1] Garstang, _op. cit._, p. 348.\n\n[108.2] _Vide supra_, p. 88.\n\n[108.3] _Vide_ my _Cults_, vol. iii. pp. 295-300.\n\n[109.1] _Vide_ Ramsay, _Hell. Journ._, v. p. 261; my _Cults_, iii. p.\n299.\n\n[109.2] Ramsay, _ib._, p. 242.\n\n[109.3] _Cults_, vol. v. p. 296 (Dionysos, R. 63d).\n\n[109.4] The axe, the thunder-fetish, is attached to her at times,\neither because it was the prevalent religious symbol in Crete or\nbecause of her union with the Thunder-God.\n\n[110.1] _E.g._ the \u201cTile-God,\u201d the lord of foundations and tiles,\nmentioned in the inscription of Nabonid in _Keilinschr. Bibl._, iii.\np. 101; but cf. Jastrow, _op. cit._, p. 176, who regards him as a\nspecial form of Ea.\n\n[111.1] Vol. v. 417-420.\n\n[111.2] For Sun-worship indicated by Minoan monuments _vide_ Evans,\n_Hell. Journ._, 1901, pp. 172-173; on a stone at Tenos we find a\ncurious inscription, \u1f29\u03bb\u03b9\u03bf\u03c3\u03b1\u03c1\u03c0\u03ae\u03b4\u03bf\u03bd\u03bf\u03c2 (_Cults_, v. p. 451, R. 37), and\nSarpedon is a Minoan-Rhodian figure.\n\n[112.1] Vide _Cults_, v. pp. 450-453, for references.\n\n[113.1] _E.g._ Plutarch, _Vit. Agid._, c. 11 (the Spartan ephors every\nnine years watch the sky, and if a star falls take it for a sign of\nsome religious offence of one of the kings, who is suspended until the\nDelphic oracle determines about him).\n\n[113.2] _Cults_, vol. i., \u201cZeus,\u201d R. 30.\n\n[113.3] _Ib._, vol. v. p. 452, R. 41.\n\n[113.4] _Ib._, p. 450, R. 24.\n\n[113.5] _Lakonische Kulte_, p. 316.\n\n\n\n\n CHAPTER VII NOTES\n\n[117.1] M\u00fcller, _Frag. Hist. Gr._, ii. 497.\n\n[117.2] _Vide_ Pinches, _op. cit._, p. 76.\n\n[117.3] Jastrow, _op. cit._, p. 246.\n\n[117.4] _Id._, p. 146.\n\n[117.5] _Id._, p. 297.\n\n[118.1] _Cities and Bishoprics of Phrygia_, p. 681.\n\n[118.2] _Vide_ Margoliouth, _Life of Mahomet_, pp. 7, 8.\n\n[119.1] _Keilinschr. Bibl._, iii. 1, p. 87.\n\n[119.2] King, _Hammurabi_, pl. 191, no. 97, col. ii.; Jeremias, in\nRoscher, _Lexikon_, iv. p. 29, _s.v._ \u201cRamman.\u201d\n\n[119.3] Jeremias, _s.v._ \u201cNebo,\u201d in Roscher, _op. cit._, iii. p. 62.\n\n[119.4] Zimmern, _K.A.T._3, p. 379.\n\n[120.1] Schiel in _Rev. de l\u2019histoire des religions_, 1897, p. 207.\n\n[120.2] Jeremias, _Bab. Assyr. Vorstellungen von dem Leben nach dem\nTode_, p. 91.\n\n[120.3] Zimmern, _K.A.T._3, p. 430.\n\n[120.4] Jastrow, _op. cit._, vol. i. p. 34.\n\n[120.5] Johns, _Babylonian and Assyrian Laws_, etc., p. 27.\n\n[121.1] Reproduced on title-page of Winckler, _Die Gesetze Hammurabi_.\n\n[121.2] Winckler, _op. cit._, p. 10.\n\n[121.3] _Ib._, p. 39.\n\n[121.4] _Keilinschr. Bibl._, ii. p. 47.\n\n[121.5] _Vide_ Knudtzon, _Assyrische Gebete an den Sonnengott_, p.\n241.\n\n[121.6] _Vide_ Langdon, _Expositor_, 1909, p. 149; cf. Jeremias,\n_s.v._ \u201cNebo,\u201d Roscher, _op. cit._, iii. p. 55.\n\n[122.1] Jeremias, _Die Cultus-tafel von Sippar_.\n\n[122.2] See Jeremias, Roscher, _Lexikon_, iii. pp. 62-63.\n\n[122.3] _Op. cit._, p. 170.\n\n[122.4] _Op. cit._, p. 223.\n\n[122.5] _K.A.T._3, pp. 639-640.\n\n[123.1] _Vide_ Hilprecht in _Babyl. Exped. Univ. Pennsylv._, vol. v.\nseries D, pp. 24-29.\n\n[123.2] _Vide_ Langdon, _Transactions of Congress of History of\nReligions_, vol. i. p. 251.\n\n[123.3] _Keilinschr. Bibl._, iii. 1, p. 97.\n\n[123.4] _Vide_ Frazer\u2019s paragraph on the divine character of Semitic\nkings in _Adonis, Attis, Osiris_2, pp. 12-13.\n\n[123.5] Lagrange, _\u00c9tudes sur les religions s\u00e9mitiques_, p. 492.\n\n[123.6] _Op. cit._, p. 481.\n\n[124.1] _C. I. Sem._ 1, 1, 1 (cf. \u201cDie Ph\u00f6nizischen Inschriften,\u201d by\nFreiherr von Landau, in _Der Alte Orient_, 1907, p. 13).\n\n[124.2] Ezek. xxix. 2, 9; quoted by Frazer, _supra_.\n\n[124.3] The same figure which I interpret as the priest-king occurs in\nother religious scenes of Hittite sculpture; the type might often have\nbeen used for the priest pure and simple, as Dr. Frazer would always\ninterpret it (_vide op. cit._, pp. 103-108).\n\n[125.1] _Op. cit._, pp. 57-58.\n\n[125.2] Strab., p. 535.\n\n[125.3] _Vide_ Ramsay, _Hell. Journ._, x. p. 158; cf. Hyginus, 191\n(Midas Rex Mydonius filius matris Deae).\n\n[125.4] _Chil._, 1, 473; _vide_ Cook in _Class. Rev._, 1903, p. 408.\n\n[126.1] _Vide_ my _Cults_, v. pp. 350-354; Frazer, _Journ. Philol._,\nxiv. \u201cThe Prytaneum, Temple of Vesta.\u201d\n\n[127.1] C. D. Gray, _The Samas Religious Texts_ (Brit. Mus.), Hymn 1.\n\n[127.2] _Keilinschr. Bibl._, ii. p. 131.\n\n[127.3] Cook, _Religions of Ancient Palestine_, p. 109.\n\n[127.4] Jeremias, _H\u00f6lle u. Paradies_, p. 17.\n\n[128.1] Sterrett, _Epigraphical Journey_, No. 65.\n\n[128.2] Vide _Cults_, vol. v. p. 19.\n\n[128.3] _Vide_ Frazer, _Psyche\u2019s Task_, pp. 18-30.\n\n[129.1] _Vide_ Winckler\u2019s \u201cDie Gesetze Hammurabi\u201d in _Der Alte\nOrient_, 1906; an English version of the code in Johns\u2019 _Babylonian\nand Assyrian Laws and Contracts_.\n\n[130.1] The son of the slain man could claim compensation for\nmanslaughter. In an Assyrian document a slave-girl is handed over to\nthe son at the grave of the slain man. This is interesting, for it\nseems to point to some consideration for the feelings of the ghost\n(_vide_ Johns, _op. cit._, p. 116).\n\n[132.1] _Vide_ Johns, _op. cit._, p. 77.\n\n[132.2] _Op. cit._, p. 83.\n\n[132.3] _Op. cit._, p. 85.\n\n[132.4] _Op. cit._, p. 86.\n\n[132.5] _Op. cit._, p. 90.\n\n[133.1] Translated by Scheil in _Rev. de l\u2019hist. des Religions_, 1897,\np. 205.\n\n[133.2] Zimmern in _K.A.T._3, p. 455; cf. his _Beitr\u00e4ge zur Kenntniss\nder Babyl. Religion_, ii. p. 147, \u201cfor the House-God, the\nHouse-Goddess, for the House-daimon thou shalt erect three altars.\u201d\n\n[134.1] For exceptions, _vide infra_, pp. 213, 217.\n\n[134.2] _Vide_ Johns, _op. cit._, p. 133; quoting from paper by Dr.\nPinches in _Proceedings of the Victoria Institute_, 1892-93, \u201cNotes on\nsome recent Discoveries in the Realm of Assyriology.\u201d\n\n[134.3] Johns, _op. cit._, p. 154, etc., treats Babylonian adoption\nwholly as a secular business based on secular feelings.\n\n[136.1] _Il._, 18, 505.\n\n[137.1] _Od._, 3, 215.\n\n[137.2] Vide _Cults_, iv. pp. 201-202.\n\n[137.3] _Ib._, p. 202.\n\n[137.4] _Ib._, pp. 104-106.\n\n[138.1] _Vide_ my _Cults_, iii. pp. 80-81.\n\n[138.2] _Ib._, pp. 53-55.\n\n[138.3] _Vide supra_, pp. 129-131.\n\n[139.1] _Vide_ my _Cults_, v. p. 345.\n\n[139.2] _Evolution of Religion_, pp. 139-152.\n\n\n\n\n CHAPTER VIII NOTES\n\n[142.1] Zimmern, _Babylonische Hymnen und Gebete_, p. 20.\n\n[142.2] Pinches, _op. cit._, p. 77.\n\n[142.3] _Vide_ Jeremias, _Bab. Assyr. Vorstellungen vom Leben nach dem\nTode_, p. 68.\n\n[142.4] Zimmern, _K.A.T._3, pp. 433-434.\n\n[143.1] Zimmern, _op. cit._, pp. 412, 587.\n\n[143.2] Langdon, _op. cit._, p. 83.\n\n[143.3] Roscher, _Lexikon_, vi. p. 47, _s.v._ \u201cRamman.\u201d\n\n[144.1] Certain other minor powers or daimones, such as the\ncorn-deity, the Lord of Watercourses (Shuqamunu), may have remained\npurely \u201cfunctional,\u201d and have acquired no moral attributes beyond the\nbeneficent exercises of their special function. But the habitual\nBabylonian tendency is to moralise all the gods and goddesses.\n\n[145.1] \u1f08\u03c6\u03c1\u03bf\u03b4\u03af\u03c4\u03b7 \u1f00\u03bd\u03b4\u03c1\u03bf\u03c6\u03cc\u03bd\u03bf\u03c2 or \u1f00\u03bd\u03cc\u03c3\u03b9\u03bf\u03c2, _Cults_, ii. p. 665, and\n\u0394\u03b9\u03cc\u03bd\u03c5\u03c3\u03bf\u03c2 \u1f00\u03bd\u03b8\u03c1\u03c9\u03c0\u03bf\u03c1\u03c1\u03b1\u03af\u03c3\u03c4\u03b7\u03c2, _ib._, v. p. 156.\n\n[146.1] Zimmern, _K.A.T._3, pp. 416-418; Jastrow, _op. cit._, pp. 297,\n487.\n\n[148.1] Weber, _D\u00e4monenbeschw\u00f6rung bei den Babyloniern und Assyrern_,\np. 8.\n\n[148.2] _Il._, 9, 312.\n\n[150.1] _Od._, 22, 334.\n\n[150.2] _Il._, 9, 63.\n\n[150.3] _Il._, 15, 204.\n\n[150.4] _Od._, 11, 280.\n\n[151.1] Weber, _op. cit._, p. 8.\n\n[152.1] Gray, _Sama\u0161 Religious Texts_ (British Museum), Hymn 1.\n\n[152.2] Zimmern, _Babylonische Hymnen u. Gebete_, p. 18.\n\n[153.1] Weber, _op. cit._, p. 9.\n\n[153.2] Zimmern, _op. cit._, p. 23.\n\n[154.1] \u201cI have sinned and am therefore ill,\u201d is the conventional\nformula in the confessional exorcism (Zimmern, _op. cit._, p. 26).\n\n[154.2] Zimmern, _op. cit._, pp. 23-24.\n\n[155.1] _Op. cit._, pp. 28-30.\n\n[157.1] _Vide_ my _Evolution of Religion_, p. 128.\n\n[159.1] Roscher, _Lexikon_, iii. p. 49.\n\n[159.2] Langdon, _op. cit._, p. 269.\n\n[159.3] Jastrow, _op. cit._, p. 536. For the idea of the goddess as\nthe pleader for man before the high god, cf. the prayer of\nAshurbanapal to Ninlil (Jastrow, p. 525).\n\n[159.4] Zimmern, _op. cit._, p. 15; _ib._, p. 11.\n\n[159.5] Jastrow, _op. cit._, p. 200.\n\n[160.1] _Il._, 9, 497; cf. my _Cults_, i. pp. 72-73, 75-77.\n\n[160.2] _Vide_ Jeremias in Roscher\u2019s _Lexikon_, ii. p. 2355.\n\n[160.3] Langdon, _op. cit._, p. 225.\n\n[160.4] Jastrow, _op. cit._, p. 490.\n\n[160.5] _Ib._, p. 529.\n\n[160.6] Langdon, _op. cit._, p. 3.\n\n[161.1] Langdon, _op. cit._, p. 319.\n\n[161.2] _Cults_, iii. p. 33.\n\n\n\n\n CHAPTER IX NOTES\n\n[163.1] Roscher, _Lexikon_, ii. p. 2354.\n\n[163.2] _Vide_ Jeremias, _Die Cultus-Tafel von Sippar_, p. 29.\n\n[165.1] Langdon, _op. cit._, p. 191.\n\n[165.2] _Ib._, p. 193.\n\n[165.3] _Ib._, p. 289.\n\n[165.4] _Ib._, p. 3.\n\n[165.5] Tabl. 9, 1, 11.\n\n[165.6] _Choix des textes religieux Assyriens Babyloniens_, p. 270.\n\n[165.7] _Vide_ Zimmern, _K.A.T._3, p. 423; but cf. his _Beitr\u00e4ge zur\nKenntniss d. Babyl. Relig._, ii. p. 179, \u201ctrefflich ist die grosse\nBuhle die herrliche Istar.\u201d\n\n[166.1] _E.g._ by Dhorme, _op. cit._\n\n[166.2] _Keilinschr. Bibl._, ii. p. 47.\n\n[166.3] Langdon, _op. cit._, p. 11.\n\n[166.4] _Ib._, p. 289.\n\n[166.5] Jastrow, _op. cit._, 460.\n\n[168.1] Only a late Greek inscription from Berytos designates Baal as\nthe pure God \u03b8\u03b5\u1ff7 \u1f01\u03b3\u03af\u1ff3 (Dittenberger, _Orient. Graec. Inscr._, 590).\n\n[168.2] Lagrange, _\u00c9tudes sur les religions s\u00e9mitiques_, p. 482.\n\n[168.3] _Vide_ Weber, _Arabien vor dem Islam_, p. 18.\n\n[168.4] Epiphanius, _Panarium_, 51; cf. my _Cults_, ii. 629.\n\n[168.5] _C. I. Sem._, 1, 1, 195.\n\n[169.1] _De Civ. Dei_, 2, 4; cf. Roscher, _Lexikon_, i., _s.v._\n\u201cCaelestis.\u201d _C.I.L._, 8, 9796.\n\n[169.2] Perrot et Chipiez, _op. cit._, iv. fig. 280.\n\n[169.3] Year 1909.\n\n[170.1] Vide _Cults_, iii. pp. 305-306; Sir William Ramsay, in _Amer.\nJourn. Arch._, 1887, p. 348, expressed his belief in the prevalence of\nthe cult of an Anatolian goddess in the later period, regarded as a\nvirgin-mother and named Artemis-Leto; the fact is merely that the\ngoddess Anaitis was usually identified with Artemis, but occasionally\nwith Leto; but we nowhere find Artemis explicitly identified with\nLeto, and the interpretation which he gives to the Messapian\ninscription (Artamihi Latho[i], vide _Rhein. Mus._, 1887, p. 232,\nDeeke) appears to me unconvincing.\n\n[170.2] The fact that a part of her temple at Kyzikos was called\n\u03a0\u03b1\u03c1\u03b8\u03b5\u03bd\u03ce\u03bd does not indicate a virgin-goddess. M. Reinach is, in my\nopinion, right in explaining it as \u201cthe apartment of the maidens\u201d\nwhere the maiden priestesses assembled (_Bull. Corr. Hell._, 1908, p.\n499).\n\n[171.1] _Cults_, vol. i., \u201cAthena,\u201d R. 66.\n\n[171.2] A different view of the whole question might be presented if I\nwas dealing here with the evidence gleaned from the period just before\nChristianity.\n\n[172.1] _Cults_, iii. p. 206.\n\n[172.2] 8, 44, 5.\n\n\n\n\n CHAPTER X NOTES\n\n[173.1] Langdon, _op. cit._, pp. 1, 7.\n\n[174.1] _Vide_ Langdon, _op. cit._, p. 225.\n\n[174.2] _Vide_ Roscher, _Lexikon_, ii. p. 2348.\n\n[174.3] _Vide_ Zimmern, _K.A.T._3, p. 401.\n\n[175.1] Even the Pythian Apollo, in our earliest record of his oracle,\nis only the voice of \u201cthe counsels of God\u201d (cf. Hom. _Od._, 8, 79).\n\n[176.1] Weber, _D\u00e4monenbeschw\u00f6rung bei den Babyloniern und Assyrern_,\np. 7.\n\n[176.2] Roscher, _Lexikon_, ii. p. 2355, quoting Hymn iv. R. 29, 1.\n\n[176.3] Dhorme, _Choix_, etc., p. 25, l. 39.\n\n[176.4] _E.g._ Langdon, _op. cit._, pp. 39-41; cf. p. xix.\n\n[176.5] Zimmern, _Babyl. Hymne u. Gebete_, p. 8.\n\n[177.1] Dhorme, _Choix_, etc., p. 343.\n\n[177.2] Roscher, _Lexikon_, ii. p. 2367 (iv. R. 26, n. 4).\n\n[177.3] Langdon, _op. cit._, pp. 39, 99.\n\n[177.4] _Vide_ my essays in _Evolution of Religion_, pp. 184-192.\n\n[177.5] Langdon, _op. cit._, p. 129.\n\n[177.6] Dhorme, _op. cit._, p. 5, l. 7.\n\n[177.7] Jeremias, _H\u00f6lle und Paradies_, p. 12; Roscher, _Lexikon_,\n_s.v._ \u201cNinib,\u201d iii. p. 368.\n\n[178.1] _Vide infra_, pp. 291-293.\n\n[179.1] _Evolution of Religion_, pp. 186, 187.\n\n[179.2] Zimmern, _K.A.T._3, pp. 490, 491, 497.\n\n[180.1] Pp. 52-100; cf. Pinches, _Religion of Babylonia and Assyria_,\np. 30, etc.; Zimmern, _op. cit._, 488-506.\n\n[180.2] _Il._, 14, 246, 302.\n\n[180.3] _E.g._, _vide_ A. Lang, _Myth Ritual and Religion_, pp. 182,\n198, 203; cf. Macdonell, _Vedic Mythology_, pp. 13, 14; Golther,\n_Handbuch der German. Mythologie_, pp. 512-514.\n\n[182.1] Macdonell, _op. cit._, pp. 12, 13.\n\n[182.2] Zimmern, _K.A.T._3, p. 497.\n\n[182.3] _Vide_ A. Lang, _Myth Ritual and Religion_, ii. pp. 29, 30.\n\n[183.1] Zimmern, _K.A.T._3, p. 498; cf. King, _op. cit._, pp. 84-86.\n\n[183.2] _Vide_ Strab., p. 626; others placed it in the volcanic region\nof Lydia (_ib._, p. 579).\n\n[183.3] Cf. King, _op. cit._, pp. 101, 102 (plate); and Zimmern,\n_K.A.T._3, pp. 502, 503, n. 2.\n\n[184.1] Zimmern, _K.A.T._3, p. 497.\n\n[184.2] King, _op. cit._, pp. 88-91; Zimmern, _op. cit._, p. 498 (b).\n\n[185.1] Ad Ov. _Metam._, 1, 34 (the authenticity of the Lactantius\npassage is doubted; _vide_ Bapp in Roscher\u2019s _Lexikon_, iii. p. 3044).\n\n[185.2] The first is specially Babylonian, the second in Esarhaddon\u2019s\ninscriptions (_vide_ Jastrow, _op. cit._, pp. 248, 249).\n\n[185.3] \u201cLa Trinit\u00e9 Carthaginoise\u201d in _Gazette Arch\u00e9ol._, 1879-1880.\n\n[185.4] Evans, in _Hell. Journ._, 1901, p. 140.\n\n[186.1] _Vide_, however, Zimmern, _K.A.T._3, p. 419, who tries to\nderive the Christian Trinity ultimately from Babylon.\n\n[186.2] _Vide_ Roscher, _Lexikon_, iii. p. 67, _s.v._ \u201cNebo.\u201d\n\n[187.1] Vide _Cults_, v. p. 431.\n\n[187.2] _Vide op. cit._, vol. iii. pp. 284-285.\n\n[187.3] _Vide op. cit._, vol. i. pp. 84, 85.\n\n[187.4] Made by Weber in _Arabien vor dem Islam_, p. 19.\n\n[188.1] _Vide_ Pinches, _op. cit._, p. 118; Jastrow, _op. cit._, p.\n203, n. 1.\n\n[188.2] Quoted by Jeremias in his article on \u201cNebo\u201d in Roscher,\n_Lexikon_, iii. p. 49.\n\n[189.1] It is interesting to note the cult of the supreme god under\nthe title of \u039c\u03ad\u03b3\u03b9\u03c3\u03c4\u03bf\u03c2 in the remote district and city of Boulis, which\nexcited the attention of Pausanias. Yet the men of Boulis were no\nmonotheists, for they had temples of Artemis and Dionysos (Paus., 10,\n37, 3; cf. my article in _Anthropological Essays presented to E. B.\nTylor_, 1907, p. 92).\n\n\n\n\n CHAPTER XI NOTES\n\n[192.1] _Vide_ Langdon, _Transactions of Congress of Rel._, 1908, i.\np. 254.\n\n[192.2] Zimmern, _Babylon. Hymn. u. Gebete_, p. 27.\n\n[192.3] Langdon, _Sumerian and Babylonian Psalms_, p. 269.\n\n[192.4] _Keilinschr. Bibl._ (Schrader), vol. ii. pt. ii. p. 69.\n\n[192.5] iv. R. 3, 5; quoted by Jeremias in _Bab. Assyr. Vorstell. vom\nLeben nach dem Tode_.\n\n[192.6] _Keilinschr. Bibl._, iii. 2, p. 11.\n\n[193.1] In Aesch. _Agam._, l. 70, the words \u03bf\u1f54\u03c4\u03b5 \u03b4\u03b1\u03ba\u03c1\u03cd\u03c9\u03bd are spurious,\nas I have argued in _Class. Review_, 1897, p. 293.\n\n[193.2] We might perhaps infer their recognition from the occasional\nuse of the word \u03b4\u03b5\u03b9\u03c3\u03b9\u03b4\u03b1\u03af\u03bc\u03c9\u03bd in a partly good sense, _e.g._ Aristot.\n_Pol._, 5, 11, 25; Xen. _Ages._, 11, 8; but its bad sense is more\nemphasised by Theophrastos in his \u201cCharacters.\u201d\n\n[193.3] Nebukadnezar (of all people) calls himself more than once \u201cthe\nhumble, the submissive,\u201d _e.g._ _Keilinschr. Bibl._, iii. p. 63.\n\n[193.4] We find the phrase \u03b4\u03bf\u1fe6\u03bb\u03bf\u03c2 \u1f51\u03bc\u03ad\u03c4\u03b5\u03c1\u03bf\u03c2 also in the Greek magic\npapyri, but these are charged with the Oriental spirit; Kenyon, _Greek\nPap._, i. p. 108, ll. 745-6.\n\n[194.1] _C. I. Sem._, 1, No. 122.\n\n[194.2] These facts are collected and exposed in a valuable article by\nPerdrizet in _Archiv. f\u00fcr Relig. Wissensch._, 1911, pp. 54-129; cf.\n_Revue des \u00c9tudes anciennes_, 1910, pp. 236-237; _Hell. Journ._, 1888,\npl. vi.\n\n[195.1] _Vide_ O. Weber, _Arabien vor dem Islam_, p. 21.\n\n[196.1] Dittenberg, _Orient. Graec. Inscr._, 619 (= Lebas-Waddington,\n_Inscr._, iii. 2393); the reading here is \u0398\u03b5\u1f78\u03bd \u0391\u1f50\u03bc\u03cc\u03bd, probably a\nmistake for \u0391\u1f50\u03bc\u03bf\u1fe6; cf. Lebas-Wadd., 2395 and 2455.\n\n[196.2] _Vide_ Roscher\u2019s _Lexikon_, ii. p. 2752.\n\n[196.3] _Vide ib._, iii. p. 1496.\n\n[196.4] _Cults_, vol. i., \u201cAthena,\u201d R. 96_b_ (Paus., 1, 42, 4); as\nregards \u201cApollo Sarpedonios\u201d we are uncertain whether the title was\nnot merely local-geographical.\n\n[197.1] Langdon, _op. cit._, pp. 309, 321; cf. the lines in the hymn,\np. 335: \u201cI am the child who upon the flood was cast out--Damu, who on\nthe flood was cast out, the anointed one who on the flood was cast\nout.\u201d\n\n[197.2] Bergk\u2019s _Lyr. Graec._, iii. p. 654.\n\n[199.1] Pp. 222-223.\n\n[199.2] _Vide supra_, p. 42.\n\n[199.3] _Keilinschr. Bibl._, ii. p. 191.\n\n[200.1] _Keil. Bibl._, ii. p. 11.\n\n[200.2] _Ib._, p. 69.\n\n[200.3] _Ib._, p. 257.\n\n[201.1] _Keil. Bibl._, ii. pp. 133-134.\n\n[201.2] _Ib._, pp. 203, 207.\n\n[201.3] _Ib._, p. 205.\n\n[202.1] We note the indication of a cruel human\nsacrifice--consecration of a child to a god or goddess by fire--as a\nlegal punishment for reopening adjudicated causes (Johns, _Babylonian\nand Assyrian Laws_, etc., p. 95).\n\n\n\n\n CHAPTER XII NOTES\n\n[205.1] _Vide_ Dr. Langdon\u2019s paper on \u201cBabylonian Eschatology;\u201d in\n_Essays in Modern Theology_ (papers offered to Professor Briggs,\n1911), p. 139.\n\n[205.2] _Vide_ Jeremias, _H\u00f6lle und Paradies_, p. 30; cf. King, _Bab.\nRel._, p. 46--formula for laying a troubled and dangerous ghost--\u201clet\nhim depart into the west; to Nedu, the Chief Porter of the Underworld,\nI consign him.\u201d The west was suggested to the Hellene because of the\nnatural associations of the setting sun; to the Babylonian, perhaps,\naccording to Jeremias, _op. cit._, p. 19, because the desert west of\nBabylon was associated with death and demons.\n\n[205.3] The \u201cwaters of death\u201d figure in the Epic of Gilgamesh, _e.g._\nKing, _op. cit._, p. 169.\n\n[205.4] _Vide_ inscr. of Sargon II. in _Keil. Bibl._, ii. 2, pp.\n75-77, 79: \u201cEa, Sin, Shamash, Nabu, Ramman, Ninib, and their benign\nspouses, who were rightfully born on Iharsaggalkurkurra, the Mountain\nof the Underworld.\u201d\n\n[206.1] Passage in \u201cThe Descent of Ishtar,\u201d Jeremias, _op. cit._, p.\n20.\n\n[206.2] King, _op. cit._, pp. 45-46.\n\n[208.1] _Vide_ Langdon, _op. cit._\n\n[209.1] Cook, _Religion of Ancient Palestine_, p. 36.\n\n[209.2] _Vide_ Langdon, _op. cit._\n\n[209.3] _Vide_ Prof. Margoliouth\u2019s article on \u201cAncestor-worship\u201d in\nHastings\u2019 _Encyclopaedia of Religion and Ethics_.\n\n[210.1] King\u2019s translation in _Babyl. Relig._, pp. 48-49. Cf.\nJeremias, _H\u00f6lle u. Paradies_, p. 12.\n\n[211.1] Cook, _The Religion of Ancient Palestine_, p. 35.\n\n[211.2] _E.g._ Eur. _Troad._, 1085, \u03c3\u1f7a \u03bc\u1f72\u03bd \u03c6\u03b8\u03af\u03bc\u03b5\u03bd\u03bf\u03c2 \u1f00\u03bb\u03b1\u03af\u03bd\u03b5\u03b9\u03c2 \u1f04\u03b8\u03b1\u03c0\u03c4\u03bf\u03c2,\n\u1f04\u03bd\u03c5\u03b4\u03c1\u03bf\u03c2.\n\n[212.1] Langdon, _op. cit._\n\n[212.2] King, _op. cit._, p. 176.\n\n[212.3] Thureau-Dangin, _Les cylindres de Goud\u00e9a_, p. 57: Les h\u00e9ros\nmorts leur bouche aupr\u00e8s d\u2019une fontaine il pla\u00e7a.\n\n[212.4] Winckler, _op. cit._, p. 41.\n\n[212.5] Jeremias, _op. cit._, p. 15.\n\n[213.1] _E.g._ Peiser, _Sketch of Babylonian Society_, in the\nSmithsonian Institute, 1898, p. 586, speaks as if it was\nancestor-worship that held the Babylonian family together.\n\n[213.2] _Vide_ my article on \u201cHero-worship\u201d in _Hibbert Journal_,\n1909, p. 417.\n\n[214.1] V. Landau, _Ph\u00f6nizische Inschr._, p. 15.\n\n[214.2] Jeremias, _H\u00f6lle u. Paradies_, p. 37.\n\n[215.1] It would be idle for my purpose to distinguish between the\nso-called \u201cAchaean\u201d and \u201cPelasgian\u201d elements in the Homeric \u039d\u03ad\u03ba\u03c5\u03b9\u03b1;\neven if the latter ethnic term was of any present value for Greek\nreligion.\n\n[215.2] Hesiod, \u1f1c\u03c1\u03b3. 110-170 (the men of the golden and the silver\nages and the heroes).\n\n[216.1] _Vide_ Zimmern in _K.A.T._3, pp. 636-639; Jeremias, _H\u00f6lle u.\nParadies_, p. 25; cf. his _Die Babyl. Assyr. Vorstellungen rom. Leben\nnach dem Tode_.\n\n[216.2] _Vide supra_, p. 160.\n\n[216.3] Zimmern, _op. cit._, p. 520; King, _op. cit._, p. 188.\n\n[217.1] King, _op. cit._, p. 138.\n\n[217.2] Lagrange, _\u00c9tudes sur les religions s\u00e9mitiques_, p. 493.\n\n[218.1] Cf. _Keil. Bibl._, ii. 109; Jeremias, _H\u00f6lle u. Paradies_, pp.\n13-14.\n\n[219.1] Jastrow, _op. cit._, pp. 472-473.\n\n[219.2] _Ib._, p. 473.\n\n[219.3] _Ib._, p. 472.\n\n[219.4] Zimmern in _Sitzungsber. d. K\u00f6n. S\u00e4chs. Gesell. Wiss._ 1907,\n\u201cSumerisch-Babylonische Tanzlieder,\u201d p. 220.\n\n[219.5] _Vide_ Jeremias in his article on \u201cNergal\u201d in Roscher\u2019s\n_Lexikon_, iii. p. 251.\n\n[219.6] It is doubtful if any argument can be based on the name\nNingzu, occasionally found as the name of the consort of Ereshkigal\n(Zimmern, _K.A.T._3, p. 637) and said to mean \u201cLord of Healing,\u201d in\nreference, probably, to the waters of life.\n\n[219.7] Only in the story of Adapa he appears as one of the warders of\nthe gates of heaven (Zimmern, _K.A.T._3, p. 521).\n\n[220.1] The story of Aphrodite descending into Hades to seek Adonis is\nmuch later than the period with which we are dealing. Nergal\u2019s descent\nto satisfy the wrath of Allatu and his subsequent marriage with her\n(Jeremias, _H\u00f6lle und Paradies_, p. 22) is a story of entirely\ndifferent motive to the Rape of Kore.\n\n\n\n\n CHAPTER XIII NOTES\n\n[223.1] Cook, _The Religion of Ancient Palestine_, p. 17.\n\n[223.2] _Researches in Sinai_, p. 72, etc., 186: he would carry back\nthe foundation to the fourth millennium B.C.\n\n[223.3] Vide _Arch. Anzeig._, 1909, p. 498.\n\n[223.4] Vide _Cults_, iii. p. 299.\n\n[224.1] _Vide_ Hogarth\u2019s evidence for the date of the earliest\nArtemision, _Excavations at Ephesus_, p. 244.\n\n[224.2] _Il._, i. 38.\n\n[224.3] _Ib._, vi. 269, 299-300.\n\n[224.4] _Ib._, ii. 550.\n\n[224.5] _Ib._, ix. 405.\n\n[224.6] _Vide_ Stengel, _Griechische Sacral-Altert\u00fcmer_, p. 17.\n\n[224.7] Vide _Athen. Mittheil._, 1911, pp. 27, 192.\n\n[225.1] _Vide_ Jeremias in Roscher, _Lexikon_, ii. p. 2347, _s.v._\n\u201cMarduk.\u201d\n\n[225.2] Something near to it would be found in the cult-phrase \u0396\u03b5\u1f7a\u03c2\n\u039d\u1fb6\u03bf\u03c2 of Dodona, which is a form commoner in the inscriptions than \u0396\u03b5\u1f7a\u03c2\n\u039d\u03ac\u03ca\u03bf\u03c2, if, with M. Reinach (_Rev. Arch\u00e9ol._, 1905, p. 97), we\nregarded this as the original title and interpreted it as\n\u201cZeus-Temple.\u201d But the interpretation is hazardous.\n\n[225.3] A disk on the top of a pole, _vide_ Jastrow, _Rel. Bab.\nAssyr._, vol. i. p. 203.\n\n[226.1] Cook, _op. cit._, p. 28.\n\n[226.2] _Religion of the Semites_, pp. 185-195; \u201cMycenaean Tree and\nPillar Cult,\u201d _Hell. Journ._, 1901. It is interesting to note that\nBaitylos, a name derived from the Semitic description of the sacred\nstone as the \u201cHouse of God,\u201d is given as the name of a divine king in\nthe cosmogony of Philo Byblius, M\u00fcller, _Frag. Hist. Graec._, iii. p.\n567; cf. the baitylos with human head found at Tegea inscribed \u0394\u03b9\u1f78\u03c2\n\u03a3\u03c4\u03bf\u03c1\u03c0\u03ac\u03c9 (fifth century B.C.), \u201cZeus of the lightning\u201d (_Eph. Arch._,\n1906, p. 64).\n\n[227.1] _Vide_ Evans, _op. cit._, and _Annual of British School_,\n1908, 1909.\n\n[227.2] _Vide_ my _Cults_, i. pp. 13-18, 102; ii. pp. 520, 670; iv.\npp. 4, 149, 307; v. pp. 7, 240, 444.\n\n[227.3] For the evidence of a pillar-cult of Apollo Agyieus and\nKarneios coming from the north, vide _Cults_, vol. iv. pp. 307-308.\n\n[227.4] The pillars known as \u201cKudurru,\u201d with emblems of the various\ndivinities upon them, served merely as boundary-stones (_vide_\nJastrow, _op. cit._, i. p. 191; Hilprecht in _Babylonian Expedition of\nUniversity of Pennsylvania_, vol. iv.).\n\n[228.1] 6, 269.\n\n[228.2] _Cults_, ii. 445.\n\n[228.3] _Op. cit._, vol. v. p. 8.\n\n[229.1] Arnob. _Adv. Gent._, 5, 19 (in the mysteries of the Cyprian\nVenus), \u201creferunt phallos propitii numinis signa donatos.\u201d\n\n[229.2] Cook, _Religion of Ancient Palestine_, p. 28; cf. _Corp.\nInscr. Sem._, i. 11. 6, inscription found in cave, dedicated perhaps\nby the hierodulai, \u201cpudenda muliebria\u201d carved on the wall.\n\n[229.3] _Rel. of Sem._, pp. 437-438.\n\n[229.4] _De Dea Syria_, c. 16 and c. 28.\n\n[229.5] _Histoire de l\u2019Art_, iv. pl. viii, D.\n\n[230.1] Jeremias, in his articles on \u201cIzdubar\u201d and \u201cNebo\u201d in Roscher\u2019s\n_Lexikon_, ii. p. 792 and iii. p. 65, concludes that a phallic emblem\nwas employed in the ritual of Ishtar; but he bases his view on the\ntranslation of the word _ibattu_ in the Gilgamesh Epic, which is\ndifferently rendered by King, _Babylonian Religion_, p. 163, and\nZimmern, _K.A.T._3, p. 572.\n\n[230.2] Thureau-Dangin, _Les Cylindres de Goud\u00e9a_, p. 69.\n\n[231.1] This may explain the double phrase, used concerning the\ninstitution and endowment of temple-rites in an inscription of the\ntime of Tiglath-Pileser III., which Zimmern translates by\n\u201cOpfer-Mahlzeiten,\u201d _Keil. Bibl._, iv. p. 103; cf. especially _K.B._,\niii. p. 179 (inscr. of ninth century); Zimmern, _Beitr\u00e4ge zur\nKenntniss der Babyl. Relig._, ii. p. 99 (sacred loaves offered before\nconsultation of divinity).\n\n[231.2] _Vide_ Robertson Smith, _op. cit._, p. 200.\n\n[231.3] Vide _Cults_, i. p. 88; v. p. 199.\n\n[232.1] Judges ix. 13; cf. Robertson Smith, _op. cit._, p. 203.\n\n[232.2] Lagrange, _\u00c9tudes sur les religions s\u00e9mitiques_, p. 506.\nThis seems to agree with the statement in Diodorus (19, 94) that the\nNabataeans tabooed wine; yet Dusares, the Arabian counterpart of\nDionysos, was a Nabataean god.\n\n[232.3] Gray, _Shamash Religious Texts_, p. 21.\n\n[232.4] Dhorme, _Choix_, etc., p. 41, l. 136.\n\n[232.5] Vide _Cults_, iii. p. 390, R. 57h.\n\n[232.6] _Ib._, ii. p. 646.\n\n[234.1] Robertson Smith, _op. cit._, pp. 272-273.\n\n[234.2] Athenae. 376_a_ (_Cults_, i. p. 141).\n\n[234.3] _Cults_, ii. pp. 646-647.\n\n[234.4] O. Weber, _D\u00e4monenbeschw\u00f6rung_, p. 29; his note on the\npassage \u201cthat the unclean beast is offered as a substitute for an\nunclean man\u201d is not supported by any evidence.\n\n[234.5] Zimmern, _K.A.T._3, pp. 409-410.\n\n[235.1] Robertson Smith\u2019s theory that the gift-sacrifice was a later\ndegeneracy from the communion-type is unconvincing; _vide_ specially\nan article by Ada Thomsen, \u201cDer Trug von Prometheus,\u201d _Arch. Relig.\nWissensch._, 1909, p. 460.\n\n[236.1] \u201cSacrificial Communion in Greek Religion,\u201d in _Hibbert\nJournal_, 1904.\n\n[236.2] _E.g._ _Il._, 1, 457-474; _Od._, 3, 1-41; 14, 426.\n\n[236.3] Cf. Schol. _Od._, 3, 441 (who defines \u03bf\u1f50\u03bb\u03bf\u03c7\u03cd\u03c4\u03b1\u03b9 as barley and\nsalt mixed with water or wine\u2026 \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u1f14\u03b8\u03c5\u03bf\u03bd \u03b1\u1f50\u03c4\u1f70 \u03c0\u03c1\u1f78 \u03c4\u03bf\u1fe6 \u1f31\u03b5\u03c1\u03b5\u03af\u03bf\u03c5\u2026\n\u03ba\u03c1\u03b9\u03b8\u1f70\u03c2 \u03b4\u1f72 \u1f10\u03bd\u03ad\u03b2\u03b1\u03bb\u03bf\u03bd \u03c4\u03bf\u1fd6\u03c2 \u03b8\u03cd\u03bc\u03b1\u03c3\u03b9 \u03c7\u03ac\u03c1\u03b9\u03bd \u03b5\u1f50\u03c6\u03bf\u03c1\u03af\u03b1\u03c2); Schol. _Arist. Equ._,\n1167, \u03c4\u03bf\u1fd6\u03c2 \u03b8\u03cd\u03bc\u03b1\u03c3\u03b9\u03bd \u1f10\u03c0\u03b9\u03b2\u03b1\u03bb\u03bb\u03cc\u03bc\u03b5\u03bd\u03b1\u03b9 [\u03ba\u03c1\u03b9\u03c6\u03b1\u03af]. _Vide_ Fritz. _Hermes_,\n32, 235; for another theory, _vide_ Stoll, \u201cAlte Taufgebra\u00fcche,\u201d in\n_Arch. Relig. Wissensch._, 1905, Beiheft, p. 33.\n\n[237.1] _Vide_ Evans, \u201cMycenaean Tree and Pillar Cult,\u201d _Hell.\nJourn._, 1901, pp. 114-115.\n\n[237.2] _Od._, 14, 426; cf. the custom reported from Arabia of\nmingling hair from the head of a worshipper with the paste from which\nan idol is made.\n\n[237.3] Aristoph. _Pax._, 956.\n\n[237.4] Athenae, p. 419, B.\n\n[237.5] Vide _Arch. Rel. Wiss._, 1909, p. 467; Thomsen there explains\nit wholly from the idea of tabu.\n\n[237.6] The common meal of the thiasota\u00ef is often represented on later\nreliefs, _vide_ Perdriyet, \u201cReliefs Mysiens,\u201d _Bull. Corr. Hell._,\n1899, p. 592.\n\n[238.1] Vide _Cults_, i. pp. 56-58, 88-92.\n\n[239.1] In my article on \u201cSacrificial Communion in Greek Religion,\u201d\n_Hibbert Journal_, 1904, p. 320, I have been myself guilty of this, in\nquoting the story told by Polynaenus (_Strategem._ 8, 43), about the\ndevouring of the mad bull with golden horns by the Erythraean host, as\ncontaining an example of a true sacrament.\n\n[239.2] Vide _Cults_, vol. i. p. 145.\n\n[239.3] See Crusius\u2019 article in Roscher\u2019s _Lexikon_, _s.v._\n\u201cHarpalyke.\u201d\n\n[240.1] Vide _Cults_, v. pp. 161-172.\n\n[240.2] _Ib._, v. p. 165.\n\n[241.1] _K.A.T._3, p. 596.\n\n[241.2] Jeremias, _Die Cultus-Tafel von Sippar_, p. 26.\n\n[241.3] Zimmern, _Beitr\u00e4ge zur Kennt. Bab. Rel._, p. 15.\n\n[242.1] _Vide_ Frazer, _Adonis-Attis-Osiris_, p. 189; cf. \u201cCommunion\nin Greek Religion,\u201d _Hibbert Journ._, 1904, p. 317.\n\n[242.2] Jeremias, _Die Cultus-Tafel von Sippar_, p. 28.\n\n[243.1] Weber, _D\u00e4monenbeschw\u00f6rung_, etc., p. 29.\n\n[243.2] iv. R2, pl. 26, No. 6; this is the inscription quoted by Prof.\nSayce (_vide infra_, p. 182, n.) as a document proving human\nsacrifice. I owe the above translation to the kindness of Dr. Langdon;\nit differs very slightly from Zimmern\u2019s in _K.A.T._3, p. 597.\n\n[243.3] Jeremias, _op. cit._, p. 29.\n\n[243.4] Renan\u2019s thesis (_C. I. Sem._, i. p. 229) that the idea of sin,\nso dominant in the Hebrew and Phoenician sacrifice, was entirely\nlacking in the Hellenic, cannot be maintained; he quotes Porph. _De\nAbstin._, 1, 2, 24, a passage which contains an incomplete theory of\nGreek sacrifice. The sin-offering is indicated by Homer, and is\nrecognised frequently in Greek literature and legend; only no\ntechnical term was invented to distinguish it from the ordinary\ncheerful sacrifice.\n\n[244.1] _Cults_, ii. p. 441.\n\n[244.2] Vide _K.A.T._3, pp. 434, 599, where Zimmern refers to the\nmonuments published by M\u00e9nant, _Pierres grav\u00e9es_, i. figs. 94, 95,\n97, as possibly showing a scene of human sacrifice. But M\u00e9nant\u2019s\ninterpretation of them is wrong; _vide_ Langdon, _Babyloniaca_, Tome\niii. p. 236, \u201ctwo Babylonian seals\u201d; the kneeling figure is the owner\nof the seal; the personage behind him is no executioner, but Ramman or\nTeschub holding, not a knife, but his usual club. The inscriptions\npublished by Prof. Sayce (_Trans. Soc. Bibl. Arch._, iv. pp. 25-29)\nare translated differently by Dr. Langdon, so that the first one (iv.\nR2, pl. 26, No. 6) refers to the sacrifice of a kid, not of an infant.\nThe misinterpretation of the inscription has misled Trumbull (_Blood\nCovenant_, p. 166). The statement in 2 Kings xvii. 31 about the\nSepharvites in Samaria does not necessarily point to a genuine\nBabylonian ritual, even if we are sure that the Sepharvites were\nBabylonians.\n\n[245.1] _Babylonian and Assyrian Laws_, p. 95.\n\n[245.2] The excavations at Gezer have revealed almost certain evidence\nof the early practice of human sacrifice; a number of skeletons, one\nof a girl sawn in half, were found buried under the foundation of\nhouses (_vide_ Cook, _op. cit._, pp. 38-39).\n\n[246.1] Stengel, _Die griechischen Kultusaltert\u00fcmer_, p. 89.\n\n[246.2] _K.A.T._3, p. 599.\n\n[246.3] Jastrow, _op. cit._, i. p. 500.\n\n[246.4] Might this be the meaning of a line in a hymn translated by\nJastrow, _op. cit._, p. 549, \u201cI turn myself to thee (O Goddess Gula),\nI have grasped thy cord as the cord of my god and goddess\u201d (_vide_\nKing, _Babyl. Magic_, No. 6, No. 71-94); or of the phrase in the\nApocrypha (_Epist. Jerem._, 43), \u201cThe women also with cords about them\nsit in the ways\u201d?\n\n[246.5] Zimmern\u2019s _Beitr\u00e4ge_, etc., p. 99.\n\n[247.1] On the famous bronze plaque of the Louvre (Jeremias, _H\u00f6lle\nund Paradies_, p. 28, Abb. 6) we see two representatives of Ea in the\nfish-skin of the god; and on a frieze of Assur-nasir-pal in the\nBritish Museum (_Hell. Journ._, 1894, p. 115, fig. 10; Layard,\n_Monuments of Nineveh_, 1, pl. 30), two men in lions\u2019 skins; but these\nare not skins of animals of sacrifice.\n\n[247.2] _Vide_ my _Evolution of Religion_, pp. 118-120.\n\n[248.1] _K.A.T._3, p. 49.\n\n[248.2] 3, 300; 19, 265-267.\n\n[248.3] Polybius, 3, 25, \u1f10\u03b3\u1f7c \u03bc\u03cc\u03bd\u03bf\u03c2 \u1f10\u03ba\u03c0\u03ad\u03c3\u03bf\u03b9\u03bc\u03b9 \u03bf\u1f55\u03c4\u03c9\u03c2 \u1f61\u03c2 \u1f45\u03b4\u03b5 \u03bb\u03af\u03b8\u03bf\u03c2 \u03bd\u1fe6\u03bd.\n\n[248.4] _Op. cit._, ii. p. 217.\n\n[250.1] According to Dr. Langdon (_op. cit._, p. xvi.), the wailing\nfor Tammuz was developed in the early Sumerian period of the fourth\nmillennium.\n\n[251.1] Langdon, _op. cit._, 300-341; cf. Zimmern,\n\u201cSumerisch-Babylonische Tamuzlieder,\u201d in _Sitzungsber. K\u00f6nig. S\u00e4chs.\nGesell. Wissen._, 1907, pp. 201-252, and his discussion, \u201cDer\nBabylonische Gott Tamuz,\u201d in _Abhandl. K\u00f6nig. S\u00e4chs. Gesell. Wissen._,\n1909.\n\n[251.2] _Vide supra_, p. 105.\n\n[251.3] _Vide_ Langdon, _op. cit._, p. 501.\n\n[251.4] _Antiqu._, 8, 5, 3; cf. Clem. _Recogn._, 10, 24; Baudissin in\nhis _Eschmun-Asklepios_ (_Oriental. Stud. zu N\u00f6ldeke gewidmet_, p.\n752) thinks that the Healer-god, Marduk Asclepios Eschmun, is himself\none who died and rose again in Assyrian and Phoenician theology. For\nAsklepios of Berytos we have the almost useless story of Damascius in\nPhot. _Bibl._, 573 H.; the uncritical legend in Ktesias (c. 21) and\nAel. _Var. Hist._, 13, 3, about the grave of Belitana at Babylon (to\nwhich Strabo also alludes, p. 740), does not justify the view that the\ndeath of Marduk was ever a Babylonian dogma.\n\n[252.1] Perrot-Chipiez, _Histoire de l\u2019Art_, iv. pl. viii.\n\n[253.1] _Rev. de Philol._, 1893, p. 195.\n\n[253.2] _Vide_ Frazer, _op. cit._, pp. 98-99.\n\n[253.3] K. O. M\u00fcller, _Kleine Schriften_, vol. ii. pp. 102-103.\n\n[253.4] _Journ. Roy. Asiat. Soc._, 1909, pp. 966, 971; the information\nabout the true meaning of the ideogram I owe to Dr. Langdon.\n\n[254.1] _Vide supra_, p. 91; cf. _Cults_, ii. pp. 644-649; iii. pp.\n300-305.\n\n[254.2] The Babylonian myths of Etana and Adapa, and their ascent to\nheaven, may have given the cue to the Phrygian stories of Ganymede and\nTantalos.\n\n[256.1] Dr. Frazer, in _Magic Art and the Evolution of Kings_ (_G.\nB._, vol. ii. p. 45), quotes from N. Tsackni (_La Russie Sectaire_, p.\n74) an example of a fanatic Christian sect in modern Russia practising\ncastration. I have not been able to find this treatise.\n\n[257.1] Vide _Cults_, iii. pp. 300-301. Dr. Frazer\u2019s theory is that\nthe act of castration was performed in order to maintain the\nfruitfulness of the earth (_op. cit._, pp. 224-237). But this is\nagainst the countless examples which he himself has adduced of the\ncharacter and function of the priest or priest-king as one whose\nvirile strength maintains the strength of the earth; the sexual act\nperformed in the field by the owner increases the fruitfulness of the\nfield (Frazer, _GB_2, ii. p. 205). Why should the priest make himself\nimpotent so as to improve the crops? The only grounds of his belief\nappear to be that the priest\u2019s testicles were committed to the earth\nor to an underground shrine of Kybele (Arnob. _Adv. Gent._, v. 14, and\nSchol. Nikand. _Alexipharm._, 7; vide _Cults_, 3; Kybele Ref. 54_a_);\nbut such consecration of them to Kybele would be natural on any\nhypothesis, and Arnobius\u2019 words do not prove that they were buried in\nthe bare earth.\n\n[259.1] Vide _Cults_, i. pp. 36-38.\n\n[259.2] Vide _Evolution of Religion_, p. 62.\n\n[260.1] Porph. _Vit. Pyth._, 17; cf. Callim. _H. ad. Jov._, 8; Diod.\nSic., 3, 61; vide _Cults_, i. pp. 36-37.\n\n[260.2] _Vide_ A. Evans in _Hell. Journ._, xvii. 350.\n\n[261.1] Vide _Cults_, vol. ii. p. 651; cf. Clem. _Recogn._, 10, 24,\n\u201csepulcrum Cypriae Veneris apud Cyprum.\u201d\n\n[261.2] _Ib._, pp. 651-652.\n\n[261.3] Vide _Cults_, vol. ii. pp. 447, n. _c._, 478, 638, n. _a._\n\n[261.4] Aristot. _Rhet._, 2, 23.\n\n[262.1] Athenae, p. 620 A (\u03b6\u03b7\u03c4\u03b5\u1fd6\u03bd \u03b1\u1f50\u03c4\u1f78\u03bd \u03c4\u03bf\u1f7a\u03c2 \u1f00\u03c0\u1f78 \u03c4\u1fc6\u03c2 \u03c7\u03ce\u03c1\u03b1\u03c2 \u03bc\u03b5\u03c4\u03ac \u03c4\u03b9\u03bd\u03bf\u03c2\n\u03bc\u03b5\u03bc\u03b5\u03bb\u1ff3\u03b4\u03b7\u03bc\u03ad\u03bd\u03bf\u03c5 \u03b8\u03c1\u03ae\u03bd\u03bf\u03c5 \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u1f00\u03bd\u03b1\u03ba\u03bb\u03ae\u03c3\u03b5\u03c9\u03c2); Pollux., 4, 54.\n\n[262.2] Frazer, _GB_2, vol. ii. p. 106.\n\n[263.1] _Vide_ Thureau-Dangin, _Vorderasiatische Bibliothek_, i. p.\n77.\n\n[263.2] Weber, _Arabien vor dem Islam_, p. 19.\n\n[264.1] _Vide_ Evans in _Hell. Journ._, 1901, p. 176.\n\n[264.2] _Cults_, i. pp. 184-191.\n\n[264.3] _Ib._, iii. pp. 123-124.\n\n[264.4] _Ib._, iii. p. 176; cf. vol. iv. p. 34 n. _b._\n\n[264.5] _Ib._, i. pp. 189-190.\n\n[265.1] 1, 181.\n\n[265.2] _Vide_, for instance, Dr. Langdon in the _Expositor_, 1909, p.\n143.\n\n[265.3] Winckler, _Die Gesetze Hammurabi_, p. 182.\n\n[266.1] _Vide_ Dieterich, _Mithras-Liturgie_, pp. 126-127;\nReizenstein, _Die hellenistischen Mysterien-religionen_.\n\n[266.2] _Vide_ Herzog\u2019s _Real-Encyclop._, _s.v._ \u201cMontanismus.\u201d\n\n[266.3] _Jourdanet et Sim\u00e9on transl. of Sahagun_, pp. 147-148.\n\n[266.4] Golther, _Handbuch der Germanischen Mythologie_, p. 229; cf.\nMannhardt, _Baumkultus_, p. 589.\n\n[267.1] Pausan., 2, 33, 3; 9, 27, 6; cf. my article in _Archiv. f\u00fcr\nReligionswiss._, 1904, p. 74; E. Fehrle, _Die Kultische Keuschheit im\nAlterthum_, p. 223, gives other examples which appear to me more\ndoubtful.\n\n[267.2] Paus., 3, 16, 1.\n\n[267.3] _Cults_, v. pp. 217-219.\n\n[268.1] Vide _Cults_, v. p. 109.\n\n[268.2] Winckler, _op. cit._, p. 110; Johns, _op. cit._, p. 54.\n\n[269.1] Code, \u00a7 182.\n\n[269.2] Jastrow, _op. cit._, ii. 157.\n\n[269.3] _Vide_ Winckler\u2019s interpretation of \u00a7\u00a7 178, 180, 181; cf. also\nZimmern in _K.A.T._3, 423.\n\n[269.4] 1, 199.\n\n[270.1] _E.g._ Zimmern in _K.A.T._3, p. 423.\n\n[270.2] Verse 43.\n\n[271.1] The first to insist emphatically on the necessity of their\ndistinction was Mr. Hartland, in _Anthropological Essays presented to\nE. B. Tylor_, pp. 190-191; but he has there, I think, wrongly\nclassified--through a misunderstanding of a phrase in Aelian--the\nLydian custom that Herodotus (1, 93) and Aelian (_Var. Hist._, iv. 1)\nrefer to; both these writers mention the custom of the women of Lydia\npractising prostitution before marriage. Aelian does not mention the\nmotive that Herodotus assigns, the collection of a dowry; neither\nassociates it with religion. Aelian merely adds that when once married\nthe Lydian women were virtuous; this need have nothing to do with the\nMylitta-rite.\n\n[272.1] _E.g._ Hosea iv. 13; Deut. xxiii. 18; 1 Kings xiv. 24.\n\n[272.2] Weber, _Arabien vor dem Islam_, p. 18.\n\n[272.3] _C. I. Sem._, 1, 263.\n\n[272.4] Strab., 272.\n\n[272.5] Strab., 559.\n\n[272.6] Pind. _Frag._, 87; Strab., 378; (_Cults_, ii. p. 746, R. 99g).\n\n[273.1] _Cities and Bishoprics_, i. 94. In his comment he rightly\npoints out that the woman is Lydian, as her name is not genuine Roman;\nbut he is wrong in speaking of her service as performed to a god\n(Frazer, _Adonis_, etc., p. 34, follows him). This would be a unique\nfact, for the service in Asia Minor is always to a goddess; but the\ninscription neither mentions nor implies a god. The bride of Zeus at\nEgyptian Thebes was also a temple-harlot, if we could believe Strabo,\np. 816; but on this point he contradicts Herodotus, 1, 182.\n\n[273.2] _Et. Mag._, s.v. \u1f39\u03ba\u03cc\u03bd\u03b9\u03bf\u03bd.\n\n[274.1] _De Dea Syr._, 6; cf. Aug. _De Civ. Dei_, 4, 10: \u201ccui (Veneri)\netiam Phoenices donum dabant de prostitutione filiarum, antequam eas\njungerent viris\u201d: religious prostitution before marriage prevailed\namong the Carthaginians in the worship of Astarte (Valer. Max., 2, ch.\n1, sub. fin.: these vague statements may refer either to defloration\nof virgins or prolonged service in the temple).\n\n[274.2] See Frazer, _op. cit._, p. 33, n. 1, quoting Sozomen. _Hist.\nEccles._, 5, 10, 7; Sokrates, _Hist. Eccles._, 1, 18, 7-9; Euseb.\n_Vita Constantin._, 3, 58. Eusebius only vaguely alludes to it.\nSokrates merely says that the wives were in common, and that the\npeople had the habit of giving over the virgins to strangers to\nviolate. Sozomenos is the only voucher for the religious aspect of the\npractice; from Sokrates we gather that the rule about strangers was\nobserved in the rite.\n\n[274.3] 18, 5.\n\n[274.4] This is confirmed by the legend given by Apollodoros (_Bibl._,\n3, 14, 3) that the daughters of Kinyras, owing to the wrath of\nAphrodite, had sexual intercourse with strangers.\n\n[275.1] Justin, 21, 3; Athenaeus, 516 A, speaks vaguely, as if the\nwomen of the Lokri Epizephyrii were promiscuous prostitutes.\n\n[275.2] Pp. 532-533.\n\n[275.3] The lovers, Melanippos and Komaitho, sin in the temple of\nArtemis Triklaria of the Ionians in Achaia; the whole community is\nvisited with the divine wrath, and the sinners are offered up as a\npiacular sacrifice (Paus., 7, 19, 3); according to Euphorion,\nLaokoon\u2019s fate was due to a similar trespass committed with his wife\nbefore the statue of Apollo (Serv. _Aen._, 2, 201). It may be that\nsuch legends faintly reflect a very early \u1f31\u03b5\u03c1\u1f78\u03c2 \u03b3\u03ac\u03bc\u03bf\u03c2 once performed\nin temples by the priest and priestess: if so, they also express the\nrepugnance of the later Hellene to the idea of it; and in any case\nthis is not the institution that is being discussed.\n\n[276.1] _Antike Wald u. Feld Kulte_, p. 285, etc.\n\n[277.1] Why should not the priestess rather play the part of the\ngoddess, and why, if we trust Plutarch (_Vit. Artaxerx._, 27), was the\npriestess of Anaitis at Ekbatana, to whose temple harlots were\nattached, obliged to observe chastity after election?\n\n[277.2] Vol. i. pp. 94-96.\n\n[277.3] _Op. cit._, p. 35, etc.\n\n[277.4] _Op. cit._, p. 44.\n\n[278.1] I pointed out this objection in an article in the _Archiv. f.\nRelig. Wissensch._, 1904, p. 81; Mr. S. Hartland has also,\nindependently, developed it (_op. cit._, p. 191).\n\n[278.2] Vol. ii. p. 446.\n\n[278.3] _Origin of Civilisation_, pp. 535-537.\n\n[279.1] _Vide_ Westermarck, _History of Human Marriage_, p. 76.\n\n[279.2] Mr. Hartland objects (_loc. cit._, p. 200) to this explanation\non the ground that the stranger would dislike the danger as much as\nany one else; but the rite may have arisen among a Semitic tribe who\nwere peculiarly sensitive to that feeling of peril, while they found\nthat the usual stranger was sceptical and more venturesome: when once\nthe rule was established, it could become a stereotyped convention.\nHis own suggestion (p. 201) that a stranger was alone privileged, lest\nthe solemn act should become a mere love-affair with a native lover,\ndoes not seem to me so reasonable; to prevent that, the act might as\nwell have been performed by a priest. Dr. Frazer in his new edition of\n_Adonis_, etc. (pp. 50-54), criticises my explanation, which I first\nput forth--but with insufficient clearness--in the _Archiv. f\u00fcr\nReligionswissenschaft_ (1904, p. 88), mainly on the ground that it\ndoes not naturally apply to general temple-prostitution nor to the\nprostitution of married women. But it was never meant to apply to\nthese, but only to the defloration of virgins before marriage. Dr.\nFrazer also argues that the account of Herodotus does not show that\nthe Babylonian rite was limited to virgins. Explicitly it does not,\nbut implicitly it does; for Herodotus declares that it was an isolated\nact, and therefore to be distinguished from temple-prostitution of\nindefinite duration; and he adds that the same rite was performed in\nCyprus, which, as the other record clearly attests, was the\ndefloration of virgins by strangers. Sozomenos and Sokrates attest the\nsame of the Baalbec rite, and Eusebius\u2019s vague words are not\nsufficient to contradict them. One rite might easily pass into the\nother; but our theories as to the original meaning of different rites\nshould observe the difference.\n\n[280.1] But _vide_ Gennep, _Les Rites de passage_, p. 100.\n\n[280.2] Cf. Arnob. _Adv. Gent._, 5, 19, with Firmic. Matern. _De\nError._, 10, and Clemens, _Protrept._, c. 2, p. 12, Pott.\n\n[281.1] 1, 199.\n\n[281.2] The lady who there boasts of her prostitute-ancestresses\ndescribes them also as \u201cof unwashed feet\u201d; and this is a point of\nasceticism and holiness.\n\n[282.1] _Op. cit._, p. 199.\n\n[282.2] _K.A.T._3, p. 423.\n\n[283.1] _Vide supra_, p. 163. The writer of the late apocryphal\ndocument, \u201cThe Epistle of Jeremy,\u201d makes it a reproach to the\nBabylonian cult that \u201cwomen set meat before the gods\u201d (v. 30), and\n\u201cthe menstruous woman and the woman in child-bed touch their\nsacrifices\u201d (v. 29), meaning, perhaps, that there was nothing to\nprevent the Babylonian priestess being in that condition. But we\ncannot trust him for exact knowledge of these matters. Being a Jew, he\nobjects to the ministration of women. The Babylonian and Hellene were\nwiser, and admitted them to the higher functions of religion.\n\n[283.2] Vide _Cults_, iv. p. 301.\n\n[283.3] _Vide_ Inscription of Sippar in British Museum, concerning the\nre-establishment of cult of Shamash by King Nabupaladdin, 884-860 B.C.\n(Jeremias, _Die Cultus-Tafel von Sippar_).\n\n[284.1] _Sumerian and Babylonian Psalms_, p. 75.\n\n[284.2] _Vide_ Langdon in _Transactions of Congress for the History of\nReligions_ (1908), vol. i. p. 250.\n\n[284.3] Vide _Zeitung f\u00fcr Assyriologie_, 1910, p. 157.\n\n[284.4] Formula for driving out the demon of sickness, \u201cBread at his\nhead place, rain-water at his feet place\u201d (Langdon, _ib._ p. 252).\n\n[284.5] Delitsch, _W\u00f6rterbuch_, i. 79-80.\n\n[284.6] _Zeit. f\u00fcr Assyr._, 1910, p. 157.\n\n[284.7] _Vide_ Hippocrates (_Littr\u00e9_), vi. 362; Stengel,\n_Griechischer Kultusaltert\u00fcmer_ (Iwan M\u00fcller\u2019s Handbuch, p. 110).\n\n[285.1] Referred to in the comedy of Eupolis called the \u201cBaptai.\u201d\n\n[285.2] Jastrow, _op. cit._, p. 500.\n\n[285.3] _Op. cit._, p. 297, 487; the priest-exorciser, the Ashipu,\nuses a brazier in the expulsion of demons.\n\n[285.4] _Vide_ Golther, _Handbuch der Germanischen Mythologie_, p.\n580; cf. my _Cults_, v. p. 196.\n\n[285.5] _Cults_, vol. v. pp. 383-384; cf. iv. p. 301.\n\n[286.1] _Cults_, v. p. 356; cf. p. 363 (the purifying animal carried\nround the hearth).\n\n[286.2] Eur. _Herc. Fur._, 928.\n\n[286.3] Dio Chrys. _Or._, 48 (Dind., vol. ii. p. 144), \u03c0\u03b5\u03c1\u03b9\u03ba\u03b1\u03b8\u03ae\u03c1\u03b1\u03bd\u03c4\u03b5\u03c2\n\u03c4\u1f74\u03bd \u03c0\u03cc\u03bb\u03b9\u03bd \u03bc\u1f74 \u03c3\u03ba\u03af\u03bb\u03bb\u1fc3 \u03bc\u03b7\u03b4\u1f72 \u03b4\u03b1\u03b4\u03af, \u03c0\u03bf\u03bb\u1f7a \u03b4\u1f72 \u03ba\u03b1\u03b8\u03b1\u03c1\u03c9\u03c4\u03ad\u03c1\u1ff3 \u03c7\u03c1\u03ae\u03bc\u03b1\u03c4\u03b9 \u03c4\u1ff7 \u03bb\u03cc\u03b3\u1ff3 (cf.\nLucian, _Menipp._, c. 7, use of squills and torches in \u201ckatharsis,\u201d\n(?) Babylonian or Hellenic); Serv. _ad Aen._, 6, 741, \u201cin sacris\nomnibus tres sunt istae purgationes, nam aut taeda purgant aut\nsulphure aut aqua abluunt aut aere ventilant.\u201d\n\n[286.4] \u201cTo take fire and swear by God\u201d is a formula that occurs in\nthe third tablet of Surpu; _vide_ Zimmern, _Beitr\u00e4ge zur Kenntniss\nBabyl. Relig._, p. 13; cf. Soph. _Antig._, 264.\n\n[286.5] Salt used as a means of exorcism in Babylonia as early as the\nthird millennium (_vide_ Langdon, _Transactions of Congress Hist.\nRelig._, 1908, vol. i. p. 251); the fell \u201cof the great ox\u201d used to\npurify the palace of the king (_vide_ Zimmern, _Beitr\u00e4ge_, p. 123;\ncompare the \u0394\u03b9\u1f78\u03c2 \u03ba\u1ff4\u03b4\u03b9\u03bf\u03bd in Greek ritual).\n\n[287.1] _Vide_ Thureau-Dangin, _Cylindres de Goud\u00e9a_, pp. 29, 93.\n\n[287.2] Vide _Evolution of Religion_, pp. 113, 114, 117; _Cults_, v.\np. 322 (Schol. Demosth., 22, p. 68).\n\n[287.3] 5, 13, 6.\n\n[287.4] Vide _Cults_, iii. pp. 303-304; _Evolution of Religion_, p.\n121.\n\n[288.1] _Vide supra_, p. 146.\n\n[288.2] Vide _Cults_, iii. p. 167.\n\n[288.3] Published in Zimmern\u2019s _Beitr\u00e4ge_, p. 123; cf. Weber,\n_D\u00e4monenbeschw\u00f6rung_, pp. 17-19.\n\n[289.1] _Il._, xvi. 228.\n\n[289.2] _Od._, ii. 261.\n\n[289.3] _Il._, i. 313.\n\n[290.1] _Od._, xxii. 481: In the passage referred to above, Achilles\nuses sulphur to purify the cups.\n\n[290.2] _Od._, xiii. 256-281: This is rightly pointed out by Stengel\nin his _Griechische Kultusaltert\u00fcmer_, p. 107.\n\n[290.3] _Evolution of Religion_, pp. 139-152; _Cults_, iv. pp.\n295-306.\n\n[291.1] Vide _Cults_, iv. pp. 144-147, 300: To suppose that Hellas\nlearnt its cathartic rites from Lydia, because Herodotus (i. 35) tells\nus that in his time the Lydians had the Hellenic system of\npurification from homicide, is less natural. Lydia may well have\nlearnt it from Delphi in the time of Alyattes or Croesus. Or it may\nhave survived in Lydia as a tradition of the early \u201cMinoan\u201d period;\nand, similarly, it may have survived in Crete.\n\n[291.2] _Vide supra_, pp. 176-178.\n\n[292.1] Vide _Cults_, iv. pp. 268-284.\n\n[292.2] For similar practices, vide _Cults_, pp. 415-417.\n\n[292.3] Clem. Alex. _Strom._, p. 755, Pott.\n\n[293.1] Paus., 9, 33, 4.\n\n[293.2] For the facts _vide_ Zimmern, _K.A.T._3, p. 592.\n\n[294.1] _Works and Days_, l. 824.\n\n[294.2] _Ib._, l. 804.\n\n[294.3] _Expositor_, 1909, p. 156.\n\n[294.4] _Vide_ Photius and Hesych., _s.v._ \u039c\u03b9\u03b1\u03c1\u03b1\u1f76 \u1f21\u03bc\u03ad\u03c1\u03b1\u03b9.\n\n[295.1] _Hell._, 1, 4, 12.\n\n[295.2] Vide _Cults_, v. pp. 215-216.\n\n[295.3] _Cults_, iv. p. 259.\n\n[295.4] _Vide supra_, pp. 176-177.\n\n[296.1] _Sumerian and Babylonian Psalms_, p. 196.\n\n[296.2] King, _Babylonian Religion_, p. 196.\n\n[296.3] _Vide_ Fossey, _La Magie Assyrienne_, p. 96.\n\n[297.1] Knudtzon, _Assyrische Gebete an den Sonnengott_, p. 78 (texts\nbelonging to period of Asarhaddon, _circ._ 681).\n\n[297.2] Zimmern, _Beitr\u00e4ge_, etc., p. 161.\n\n[298.1] Zimmern, _Beitr\u00e4ge_, etc., p. 163.\n\n[298.2] Fossey, _op. cit._, p. 399.\n\n[298.3] iv. _R._ 56, 12; Fossey, _op. cit._, p. 401.\n\n[298.4] _Expositor_, 1909, p. 150, giving text from iv. _R._ 40.\n\n[299.1] Fossey, _op. cit._, p. 209.\n\n[299.2] Zimmern, _Beitr\u00e4ge_, p. 173.\n\n[299.3] _Supra_, p. 176.\n\n[299.4] Zimmern, _op. cit._, p. 169.\n\n[300.1] Zimmern, _Beitr\u00e4ge_, pp. 30-31; he mentions also the similar\npractice of tying up a sheepskin or a fillet of wool and throwing it\ninto the fire.\n\n[300.2] Zimmern, _op. cit._, p. 33: note magic use of knots in\ngeneral, _vide_ Frazer, _G.B._2, vol. i. pp. 392-403; _Archiv. f\u00fcr\nReligionsw._, 1908, pp. 128, 383, 405. The superstition may have\nprevailed in Minoan Crete (see A. Evans, _Annual British School_,\n1902-1903, pp. 7-9) and was in vogue in ancient Greece.\n\n[300.3] W. Warde Fowler, _The Religious Experiences of the Roman\nPeople_, Gifford Lectures, p. 49.\n\n[301.1] _Vide supra_, pp. 248-249; _Cults_, iv. p. 191.\n\n[301.2] For the main facts relating to the Babylonian system and the\n\u201cbaru\u201d-priests, _vide_ Zimmern, _Beitr\u00e4ge_, etc., pp. 82-92; for the\nHellenic, vide _Cults_, iv. 190-192, 224-231; also vol. iii. 9-12.\n\n[301.3] The documentary evidence, from a very early period, is given\nby Zimmern, _Beitr\u00e4ge_, etc., pp. 85-97.\n\n[301.4] L. 322: Clytemnestra speaks of pouring oil and vinegar into\nthe same vessel and reproaching them for their unsociable behaviour.\n\n[302.1] We have also one example of an oracle of Ishtar (in plain\nprose), _Keil. Bibl._, ii. p. 179.\n\n[303.1] Zimmern, _op. cit._, p. 89.\n\n[303.2] _Cults_, iii. p. 297.\n\n[303.3] Lucian, _De Dea Syr._, 43.\n\n[303.4] _Cults_, iii. p. 297.\n\n[303.5] Vide _Cults_, iv. pp. 191-192; iii. p. 11.\n\n\n\n\n TRANSCRIBER\u2019S NOTES.\n\nPage numbers are given in {curly} brackets.\n\nPlain text version only: endnote markers are given in [square]\nbrackets.\n\nMinor spelling inconsistencies (_e.g._ coexist/co-exist,\ntemple-ritual/temple ritual, etc.) have been preserved.\n\nAdd title, subtitle, and author\u2019s name to cover image.\n\nAlterations to the text:\n\nConvert footnotes to endnotes, relabel note markers (append the\noriginal note number to the page number), and add a corresponding\nentry to the TOC.\n\n[Title page]\n\nAdd commas to author\u2019s bibliography.\n\n[Chapter I]\n\nChange \u201cfrom the tyranny of a morbid _ascetism_\u201d to _asceticism_.\n\n[Chapter III]\n\n\u201cIn his _Historie des anciennes Religions_, Tiele classifies\u201d to\n_Histoire_.\n\n\u201cand their aboriginal god was _Possidon_\u201d to _Poseidon_.\n\n[Chapter IV]\n\n\u201cand _expecially_ the powers of the lower world\u201d to _especially_.\n\n\u201cEven _Allat_, the goddess of Hell, she who\u201d to _Allatu_.\n\n\u201cthe great Assyrian god _Ahshur_ is quaintly expressed\u201d to _Asshur_.\n\n\u201cthe idea that _Istar_ is the compeer in power\u201d to _Ishtar_.\n\n\u201cbetween the Hittites and the _Assyrian Babylonian_ kingdom\u201d to\n_Assyrian-Babylonian_.\n\n\u201cno clear trace of _theriomophism_ either in the\u201d to _theriomorphism_.\n\n\u201chow far the _Minaon_ religion was purely anthropomorphic\u201d to\n_Minoan_.\n\n[Chapter V]\n\n\u201cI formerly developed in the second volume of my cults\u201d capitalize\nand italicize _cults_.\n\n[Chapter VI]\n\n\u201cStill less is _Allalu_, the monstrous and grim Queen\u201d to _Allatu_.\n\n[Chapter VII]\n\n(Alalkomenai, \u201cthe places of Athena Alalkomene; Nemea, \u201cthe\u2026) add\nright double quotation mark after _Alalkomene_.\n\n[Chapter VII]\n\n\u201cabout whom he is _particulurly_ thoughtful\u201d to _particularly_.\n\n[Chapter IX]\n\n\u201cand regards this _Hititte_ goddess as the ancestress\u201d to _Hittite_.\n\n[Chapter XIII]\n\n\u201cmodern savagery and the history of _ascetism_\u201d to _asceticism_.\n\n(and bewail her\u201d: \u201cIf you regard her as a deity, do) delete right\ndouble quotation mark.\n\n[Index]\n\n\u201cHell, Babylonian conception of, 205-206\u201d add period at end of line.\n\n[Endnotes]\n\n(Page 17, note 1) \u201c_Archiv fur Religionswissenschaft_, 1904.\u201d to\n_f\u00fcr_.\n\n(Page 42, note 1) \u201cthat the _idiogram_ of Enlil, the god of\u201d to\n_ideogram_.\n\n(Page 84, note 3) \u201clast of the Babylonian kings, _Nabuna \u2019id_, who\nprays\u201d to _Nabuna\u2019id_.\n\n(Page 124, note 1) \u201cDie Phoenizischen Imschriften,\u201d to _Ph\u00f6nizischen\nInschriften_.\n\n(Page 148, note 1) \u201cWeber, _D\u00e4monenbeschworung bei den Babyloniern_\u2026\u201d\nto _D\u00e4monenbeschw\u00f6rung_.\n\n(Page 183, note 3) \u201cpp. 502 503, n. 2\u201d add comma after _502_.\n\n(Page 232, note 2) \u201cLagranges, _\u00c9tudes sur les religions s\u00e9mitiques_\u201d\nto _Lagrange_.\n\n(Page 246, note 1) \u201cStengel, _Die griechischen Kultusalterth\u00fcmer_, p.\n89\u201d to _Kultusaltert\u00fcmer_.\n\n(Page 286, note 5) \u201c_vide_ Zimmern, _Beitrage_, p. 123;\u201d to _Beitr\u00e4ge_.\n\n[End of text]","title":"Greece and Babylon : $b A comparative sketch of Mesopotamian, Anatolian and Hellenic religions","tradition":"myth-cosmogony","translated_text":null,"word_count":95447}