One of the last kings of Babylon, Nebuchadrezzar, recorded a prayer which reveals the loftiness of religious thought and feeling attained by men to whom graven images were no longer worthy of adoration and reverence—­men whose god was not made by human hands—­

O eternal prince!  Lord of all being! 
As for the king whom thou lovest, and
Whose name thou hast proclaimed
As was pleasing to thee,
Do thou lead aright his life,
Guide him in a straight path. 
I am the prince, obedient to thee,
The creature of thy hand;
Thou hast created me, and
With dominion over all people
Thou hast entrusted me. 
According to thy grace, O Lord,
Which thou dost bestow on
All people,
Cause me to love thy supreme dominion,
And create in my heart
The worship of thy godhead
And grant whatever is pleasing to thee,
Because thou hast fashioned my life.[547]

The “star-gazers” had become scientists, and foretold eclipses:  in every sphere of intellectual activity great men were sifting out truth from the debris of superstition.  It seemed as if Babylon and Assyria were about to cross the threshold of a new age, when their doom was sounded and their power was shattered for ever.  Nineveh perished with dramatic suddenness:  Babylon died of “senile decay”.

When, in 668 B.C., intelligence reached Nineveh that Esarhaddon had passed away, on the march through Egypt, the arrangements which he had made for the succession were carried out smoothly and quickly.  Naki’a, the queen mother, was acting as regent, and completed her lifework by issuing a proclamation exhorting all loyal subjects and vassals to obey the new rulers, her grandsons, Ashur-bani-pal, Emperor of Assyria, and Shamash-shum-ukin, King of Babylon.  Peace prevailed in the capital, and there was little or no friction throughout the provinces:  new rulers were appointed to administer the States of Arvad and Ammon, but there were no changes elsewhere.

Babylon welcomed its new king—­a Babylonian by birth and the son of a Babylonian princess.  The ancient kingdom rejoiced that it was no longer to be ruled as a province; its ancient dignities and privileges were being partially restored.  But one great and deep-seated grievance remained.  The god Merodach was still a captive in the temple of Ashur.  No king could reign aright if Merodach were not restored to E-sagila.  Indeed he could not be regarded as the lord of the land until he had “taken the hands of Bel”.

The ceremony of taking the god’s hands was an act of homage.  When it was consummated the king became the steward or vassal of Merodach, and every day he appeared before the divine one to receive instructions and worship him.  The welfare of the whole kingdom depended on the manner in which the king acted towards the god.  If Merodach was satisfied with the king he sent blessings to the land; if he was angry he sent calamities.  A pious and faithful monarch was therefore the protector of the people.