In Job angels are only once mentioned—viz., in chap. iv. 18, and then they are spoken of in such a way, that we are doubtful whether or not to regard the verse simply as a poetic metaphor. The idea which runs through the part of the chapter in which the passage occurs is this: "Job, you are suffering; the innocent do not perish; the righteous are not cut off; you have been very proper; man has nothing to say against you; but you are not right in accusing God of injustice; you doubtless have done some wrong, for even God's servants are not wholly trusted; they sometimes misbehave unknowingly, and his own angels are called perverse by him (Job iv. 18); you cannot expect to be better than they, and it is no shame to you to be in the same category as they are."
But it must be allowed that the words of the story—"There was a day when the sons of God came to present themselves before the Lord, and Satan came also among them; and the Lord said unto Satan, Whence comest thou? Then Satan answered the Lord, and said, From going to and fro in the earth, and from walking up and down in it"—do really intimate a full belief in good angels and bad, who were not so much angels, messengers, or envoys, as subordinate powers resembling the barons of ancient England, the Paladins of Charlemagne, or the kings created by Buonaparte; amongst whom all were, so to speak, "good angels," except Bernadotte, of Sweden, who rebelled against the imperial thraldom, and became to his late master a modern satan. In whichever way we regard the subject of angels, amongst the Persians there is little doubt that the Iranian conception of God was wholly anthropomorphic, and that the Medians and their magi, as well as their Persian neighbours, acknowledged a "father of lies," who was antagonistic to the deity.*
* Quintus Curtius informs us (Life of Alexander the Great,
b. v. a ii.) that Darius had in Babylon a consecrated table,
from which he used to eat; that Alexander began to be
ashamed of his sacrilege in treading upon it—(it had been
placed as a footstool for his imperial chair)—the sacrilege
being against the gods presiding over hospitality, carved
upon the table. These may be regarded as angels or
otherwise, according to fancy.
Our knowledge of the angelic mythology of Babylonia is comparatively slight. The main thing which shrouds the subject in darkness is the difficulty which exists to distinguish between god, gods, and angels. If we could put any confidence in the book of Daniel, we should recognize therefrom that his "Nebuchadnezzar" most distinctly believed in the existence of angels, for in chap. iii. 25 he believes that he sees the son of God (bar elohim), and in verse 28 of the same chap. he remarks that "God hath sent his angel (malachah), and delivered his servants that trusted in him." Again, in the fourth chapter, in which he recounts a dream, he declares that he saw "a watcher and a holy one" (geer and kadesk) come down from heaven with a message to him. But Daniel is not an adequate authority upon ancient Babylonian beliefs. We are, in the absence of direct testimony upon this subject» driven to such evidence as is drawn from sculptured or other remains in ruins and on gems, and to cuneiform and other writings. George Rawlinson sums up his account thus—(Ancient Monarchies, vol. I, ch. vii., pp. 138, 9): "Various deities, whom it was not considered at all necessary to trace to a single stock, divided the allegiance of the people, and even of the kings, who regarded with equal respect, and glorified with exalted epithets, some fifteen or sixteen personages. Next to these principal gods were a far more numerous assemblage of inferior or secondary divinities, less often mentioned, and regarded as less worthy of honour, but still recognized generally through the country. Finally, the Pantheon contained a host of mere local gods or genii, every town and almost every village in Babylonia being under the protection of its own particular divinity."
The passage above quoted, which represents very fairly our existent knowledge, suggests to the thoughtful mind a comparison with other religions. In Greece there were many great gods and goddesses, and other divinities of less renown. In Rome there were gods for almost everything. But what these nations called "gods" the Hebrews called "angels," as we shall see shortly. In Christendom angels and gods have, as a general rule, been deposed, and "saints" have taken their places. Not only has every town a cathedral which is dedicated to some particular name—said to have been borne by a holy man or woman, whose aid in heaven is thus secured by his votaries upon earth—but every church in every parish, and every chapel in every church is set apart to a particular "saint." Still farther, every trade and every position in life has its tutelary patron in heaven, and secondary gods are as common in Papal districts as they were in the land of the Chaldeans. The philosopher cannot find a valid distinction between Ishtar, Venus, and Mary, Dionysus and Denis, and a host of other gods, saints, or angels.
Assuming that the minor gods of Greece and Rome, and those essences generally called "angels" are substantially the same order of beings, we find that the Babylonians had a great number of celestial envoys, viceroys, or messengers who ruled over the land and sea, the sky and storms, the thunder and the rain, crops, men, war, buildings—everything, indeed, was superintended by some one on behalf of the Supreme Ruler.
We might pause here to speculate upon the question whether there is any difference in kind between such a kingdom as Babylonia or Russia and the heaven believed in by the ancient Jews and the modern Christians. In all there is an autocratic sovereign who has a prime minister and secretaries of state, who keep his books and perform his will according to his bidding; under these again there are private clerks, who superintend wind and weather, rain and hail, snow and frost; governors of provinces, mayors, or prefects of cities; police, and so large a host of subordinates, that nothing, great or small, can be done which escapes the notice of one of the imperial envoys or ministers. The inventor of heaven, such as we know it, was certainly an admirer of 'centralization'. Those who desire to see the description of the unseen world modified are those who are opposed to an absolute monarchy, and who see in everything, everybody, and in all the world a proof of the presence of a supreme, omniscient, omnipresent, Creator, Ruler, or Governor.
Without going into an account of the Chaldean mythology, we may say that there is strong reason to believe, both from the nomenclature which has survived, and from such gems as are preserved from destruction, that every Babylonian, whether bond or free, was called after some deity, who was supposed ever afterwards to be his tutelary angel In modern times Roman Catholics hold a similar belief, and each parent imagines that by making selection, for his offspring, of the name of a particular saint, the latter can be induced to take the child under its special care.
The learned in papal mythology know that every saint is depicted in such a manner that none shall be mistaken. To such an extent indeed is pictorial contrivance carried, that the art of recognising a particular saint demands a special study. It is all but certain that the same custom prevailed in Babylon; but, as all the professors which taught the means of identification have passed away, we can only guess at the name or nature of the angel. Let us imagine, for example, what an archaeologist could make of the figure of Mary—of the bleeding or burning heart, two thousand years after all history of the mother of Jesus has passed away, like that of Ishtar has done. A curious figure, called heart-shaped, but really not so, is found placed on the central part of a woman's breast; from it flames appear to arise and blood to drop, and through it is a dagger, and this mass of imagery is put outside the body, and the dress is held open to enable any one to see it.
Without a key to the enigma, this is a mystery; but when the key is given, and the inquirer hears the explanation, he finds it so absurd that it is difficult to believe it. In like manner, when I see upon a Babylonian gem, copied as a vignette on the title-page of Landseer's Sabean Researches, a woman who has a beard, a necklace, two small breasts, from each of which she squeezes apparently a river of milk; over whose breastbone there is one large globe and two small ones, placed perpendicularly; who has a spider waist, and wears a skirt covered with pistol-shaped ornaments, I, not knowing whether the Chaldeans adored "our lady of the flowing bosom," cannot frame an idea as to the name of the saint, angel, virgin, or martyr which is depicted, or what may have been her peculiar duties, who she was, and what trade she patronised.