And all the days that Adam lived were nine hundred and
thirty years; and he died.
And Seth lived an hundred and five years, and begat Enosh:
and Seth lived after he begat Enosh eight hundred and seven
years, and begat sons and daughters: and all the days of
Seth were nine hundred and twelve years: and he died.
. . . and all the days of Enosh were nine hundred and five
years: and he died.
. . . and all the days of Kenan were nine hundred and ten
years: and he died. . . . and all the days of Mahalalel were
eight hundred ninety and five years: and he died.
. . . and all the days of Jared were nine hundred sixty and
two years: and he died.
. . . and all the days of Enoch were three hundred sixty and
five years: and Enoch walked with God: and he was not; for
God took him.
. . . and all the days of Methuselah were nine hundred sixty
and nine years: and he died.
. . . and all the days of Lamech were seven hundred seventy
and seven years: and he died.
And Noah was five hundred years old: and Noah begat Shem,
Ham, and Japheth.
Throughout these extracts from "the book of the generations of Adam",(1) Galumum's nine hundred years(2) seem to run almost like a refrain; and Methuselah's great age, the recognized symbol for longevity, is even exceeded by two of the Sumerian patriarchs. The names in the two lists are not the same,(3) but in both we are moving in the same atmosphere and along similar lines of thought. Though each list adheres to its own set formulae, it estimates the length of human life in the early ages of the world on much the same gigantic scale as the other. Our Sumerian records are not quite so formal in their structure as the Hebrew narrative, but the short notes which here and there relieve their stiff monotony may be paralleled in the Cainite genealogy of the preceding chapter in Genesis.(4) There Cain's city-building, for example, may pair with that of Enmerkar; and though our new records may afford no precise equivalents to Jabal's patronage of nomad life, or to the invention of music and metal-working ascribed to Jubal and Tubal-cain, these too are quite in the spirit of Sumerian and Babylonian tradition, in their attempt to picture the beginnings of civilization. Thus Enmeduranki, the prototype of the seventh Antediluvian patriarch of Berossus, was traditionally revered as the first exponent of divination.(5) It is in the chronological and general setting, rather than in the Hebrew names and details, that an echo seems here to reach us from Sumer through Babylon.
(1) Gen. v. 1 ff. (P).
(2) The same length of reign is credited to Melamkish and to
one and perhaps two other rulers of that first Sumerian
"kingdom".
(3) The possibility of the Babylonian origin of some of the
Hebrew names in this geneaology and its Cainite parallel has
long been canvassed; and considerable ingenuity has been
expended in obtaining equations between Hebrew names and
those of the Antediluvian kings of Berossus by tracing a
common meaning for each suggested pair. It is unfortunate
that our new identification of {'Ammenon} with the Sumerian
Enmenunna should dispose of one of the best parallels
obtained, viz. {'Ammenon} = Bab. ummânu, "workman" ||
Cain, Kenan = "smith". Another satisfactory pair suggested
is {'Amelon} = Bab. amêlu, "man" || Enosh = "man"; but the
resemblance of the former to amêlu may prove to be
fortuitous, in view of the possibility of descent from a
quite different Sumerian original. The alternative may
perhaps have to be faced that the Hebrew parallels to
Sumerian and Babylonian traditions are here confined to
chronological structure and general contents, and do not
extend to Hebrew renderings of Babylonian names. It may be
added that such correspondence between personal names in
different languages is not very significant by itself. The
name of Zugagib of Kish, for example, is paralleled by the
title borne by one of the earliest kings of the Ist Dynasty
of Egypt, Narmer, whose carved slate palettes have been
found at Kierakonpolis; he too was known as "the Scorpion."
(4) Gen. iv. 17 ff. (J).
(5) It may be noted that an account of the origin of
divination is included in his description of the descendents
of Noah by the writer of the Biblical Antiquities of Philo,
a product of the same school as the Fourth Book of Esdras
and the Apocalypse of Baruch; see James, The Biblical
Antiquities of Philo, p. 86.
I may add that a parallel is provided by the new Sumerian records to the circumstances preceding the birth of the Nephilim at the beginning of the sixth chapter of Genesis.(1) For in them also great prowess or distinction is ascribed to the progeny of human and divine unions. We have already noted that, according to the traditions the records embody, the Sumerians looked back to a time when gods lived upon the earth with men, and we have seen such deities as Tammuz and Lugalbanda figuring as rulers of cities in the dynastic sequence. As in later periods, their names are there preceded by the determinative for divinity. But more significant still is the fact that we read of two Sumerian heroes, also rulers of cities, who were divine on the father's or mother's side but not on both. Meskingasher is entered in the list as "son of the Sun-god",(2) and no divine parentage is recorded on the mother's side. On the other hand, the human father of Gilgamesh is described as the high priest of Kullab, and we know from other sources that his mother was the goddess Ninsun.(3) That this is not a fanciful interpretation is proved by a passage in the Gilgamesh Epic itself,(4) in which its hero is described as two-thirds god and one-third man. We again find ourselves back in the same stratum of tradition with which the Hebrew narratives have made us so familiar.
(1) Gen. vi. 1-4 (J).
(2) The phrase recalls the familiar Egyptian royal
designation "son of the Sun," and it is possible that we may
connect with this same idea the Palermo Stele's inclusion of
the mother's and omission of the father's name in its record
of the early dynastic Pharaohs. This suggestion does not
exclude the possibility of the prevalence of matrilineal
(and perhaps originally also of matrilocal and
matripotestal) conditions among the earliest inhabitants of
Egypt. Indeed the early existence of some form of mother-
right may have originated, and would certainly have
encouraged, the growth of a tradition of solar parentage for
the head of the state.
(3) Poebel, Hist. Inscr., p. 124 f.
(4) Tablet I, Col. ii, l. 1; and cf. Tablet IX, Col. ii. l.
16.
What light then does our new material throw upon traditional origins of civilization? We have seen that in Egypt a new fragment of the Palermo Stele has confirmed in a remarkable way the tradition of the predynastic period which was incorporated in his history by Manetho. It has long been recognized that in Babylonia the sources of Berossus must have been refracted by the political atmosphere of that country during the preceding nineteen hundred years. This inference our new material supports; but when due allowance has been made for a resulting disturbance of vision, the Sumerian origin of the remainder of his evidence is notably confirmed. Two of his ten Antediluvian kings rejoin their Sumerian prototypes, and we shall see that two of his three Antediluvian cities find their place among the five of primitive Sumerian belief. It is clear that in Babylonia, as in Egypt, the local traditions of the dawn of history, current in the Hellenistic period, were modelled on very early lines. Both countries were the seats of ancient civilizations, and it is natural that each should stage its picture of beginnings upon its own soil and embellish it with local colouring.
It is a tribute to the historical accuracy of Hebrew tradition to recognize that it never represented Palestine as the cradle of the human race. It looked to the East rather than to the South for evidence of man's earliest history and first progress in the arts of life. And it is in the East, in the soil of Babylonia, that we may legitimately seek material in which to verify the sources of that traditional belief.
The new parallels I have to-day attempted to trace between some of the Hebrew traditions, preserved in Gen. iv-vi, and those of the early Sumerians, as presented by their great Dynastic List, are essentially general in character and do not apply to details of narrative or to proper names. If they stood alone, we should still have to consider whether they are such as to suggest cultural influence or independent origin. But fortunately they do not exhaust the evidence we have lately recovered from the site of Nippur, and we will postpone formulating our conclusions with regard to them until the whole field has been surveyed. From the biblical standpoint by far the most valuable of our new documents is one that incorporates a Sumerian version of the Deluge story. We shall see that it presents a variant and more primitive picture of that great catastrophe than those of the Babylonian and Hebrew versions. And what is of even greater interest, it connects the narrative of the Flood with that of Creation, and supplies a brief but intermediate account of the Antediluvian period. How then are we to explain this striking literary resemblance to the structure of the narrative in Genesis, a resemblance that is completely wanting in the Babylonian versions? But that is a problem we must reserve for the next lecture.