and such permanent
institutions, are not unprofitable acquaintances. A right-thinking citizen
of a modern city would probably feel more at home in ancient Babylon than
in mediaeval Europe. When we have won our way through the difficulties of
the language and the writing to the real meaning of their purpose and come
into touch with the men who wrote and spoke, we greet brothers. Rarely in
the history of antiquity can we find so much of which we heartily approve,
so little to condemn. The primitive virtues, which we flatter ourselves
that we have retained, are far more in evidence than those primitive vices
which we know are not extinct among us. The average Babylonian strikes us
as a just, good man, no wild savage, but a law-abiding citizen, a faithful
husband, good father, kind son, firm friend, industrious trader, or
careful man of business. We know from other sources that he was no
contemptible warrior, no mean architect or engineer. He might be an
excellent artist, modelling in clay, carving rocks, and painting walls.
His engraving of seals was superb. His literary work was of high order.
His scientific attainments were considerable.

When we find so much to approve we may naturally ask the reason. Some may
say it is because right was always right everywhere. Others will try to
trace our inheritance of thought. At any rate, we may accord our praise to
those who seized so early in the history of the race upon views which have
proved to be of the greatest and most permanent value. Perhaps nowhere
else than in the archives of the old Assyrian and Babylonian temples could
we find such an instructive exhibition of the development of the art of
expressing facts and ideas in written language. The historical
inscriptions, indeed, exhibit a variety of incidents, but have a painful
monotony of subject and a conventional grandeur of style. In the contracts
we find men struggling for exactness of statement and clearness of
diction. In the letters we have untrammelled directness of address,
without regard to models of expression. In the one case we have a
scrupulous following of precedent, in the other freedom from rule or
custom. One result is that while we are nearly always sure what the
contract said and intended, we often are completely unable to see why the
given phrases were used for their particular purpose. Every phrase is
technical and legal, to a degree that often defies translation. On the
other hand, the letters are o