Lecture VI. Cosmologies. 355
of the stilted and soulless productions of the eighteenth century, in
which commonplace ideas and a prosaic philosophy masquerade
as Greek nymphs or Roman gods. It is only here and there, as in
the description of the contest with Tiamât, or in the concluding
lines,—if, indeed, they belong to the poem at all,—that it rises
above the level of dull mediocrity.
But mediocre as it may be from a literary point of view, it is of
considerable value to the student of Babylonian cosmology. The
author is fortunately not original, and his materials, therefore,
have been drawn from the folk-lore or the theology of the past.
A welcome commentary on the first tablet has been preserved,
moreover, in theProblems and Solutions of First Principles,
written by the philosopher Damascius, the contemporary of
Justinian, whose accuracy and acquaintance with Babylonian
sources it proves. Unfortunately the tablet is broken, and the
final lines of it are consequently lost—
“When above unnamed was the heaven,
the earth below by a name was uncalled, [388]
the primeval deep was their begetter,
the chaos of Tiamât was the mother of them all.
Their waters were embosomed in one place,
the corn-stalk was ungathered, the marsh-plant ungrown.
At that time the gods had not appeared, any one of them,
by no name were they called, no destiny [had they fixed].
Then were the [primeval] gods created,
Lakhmu and Lakhamu came forth [the first].
Until they grew up ...
Ansar and Kisar were created ...
Long were the days ...
Anu [Bel and Ea were made].”
To the Babylonian, name and existence were one and the
same. Nothing could exist unless it had a name, and whatever
had a name necessarily existed. That the heaven and earth