tremely human; and, occasionally,
the narrator does not scruple to represent them in a manner which is
not only inconsistent with our idea of reverence, but is sometimes
distinctly humorous. [7] When the storm is at its height, he exhibits
them flying in a state of panic to Anu, the god of heaven, and crouching
before his portal like frightened dogs. As the smoke of Hasisadra's
sacrifice arises, the gods, attracted by the sweet savour, are compared
to swarms of flies. I have already remarked that the lady Istar's
reputation is torn to shreds; while she and Ea scold Bel handsomely for
his ferocity and injustice in destroying the innocent along with
the guilty. One is reminded of Here hung up with weighted heels; of
misleading dreams sent by Zeus; of Ares howling as he flies from the
Trojan battlefield; and of the very questionable dealings of Aphrodite
with Helen and Paris.

But to return to the story. Bel was, at first, excluded from the
sacrifice as the author of all the mischief; which really was somewhat
hard upon him, since the other gods agreed to his proposal. But
eventually a reconciliation takes place; the great bow of Anu is
displayed in the heavens; Bel agrees that he will be satisfied with what
war, pestilence, famine, and wild beasts can do in the way of destroying
men; and that, henceforward, he will not have recourse to extraordinary
measures. Finally, it is Bel himself who, by way of making amends,
transports Hasisadra, his wife, and the faithful Nes-Hea to the abode of
the gods.

It is as indubitable as it is incomprehensible to most of us, that, for
thousands of years, a great people, quite as intelligent as we are,
and living in as high a state of civilisation as that which had been
attained in the greater part of Europe a few centuries ago, entertained
not the slightest doubt that Anu, Bel, Ea, Istar, and the rest, were
real personages, possessed of boundless powers for good and evil. The
sincerity of the monarchs whose inscriptions gratefully attribute their
victories to Merodach, or to Assur, is as little to be questioned as
that of the authors of the hymns and penitential psalms which give full
expression to the heights and depths of religious devotion. An "infidel"
bold enough to deny the existence, or to doubt the influence, of these
deities probably did not exist in all Mesopotamia; and even constructive
rebellion against their authority was apt to end in the deprivation, not
merely of the goo