CHAPTER XII

ETRUSCAN VIEWS OF THE FUTURE LIFE

AMONG ancient peoples who have long since ceased to figure among the active nations of the earth, the inhabitants of old Etruria have left the most copious monumental records of their spiritual faith behind them. Written annals we cannot consult, for these have not been discovered; but Etruscan sepulchres remain, and from these we can gather an immense amount of curious and satisfactory information. Monuments are often far older than documents, and frequently much more reliable, as they are not so subject to transcription and interpolation, a fate which has befallen a large portion of the comparatively ancient manuscripts now placed at our disposal.

The Etruscan tombs are hewn out of the living rock of cliffs and hills: they therefore bid long defiance to the ravages of time and storm; and though many millennia old, still remain in so good a state of preservation that they are easily deciphered by any visitors provided with the necessary scholarly equipment.

Etruscan burial places were invariably outside of city limits, and often beyond a city's walls existed another city of tombs. Stone-hewn sepulchres, of massive and imposing design, are not infrequently discovered; but the ordinary "house of the departed" was built on the plan of the abodes of the living, though on a smaller scale.

All sorts of clothing, ornaments, and implements were taken to these reposing places of vacated earthly forms, and much of this accessory material has long outlived the pulverization of the body to which it was once considered tributary. Dr. Alger, from whom we again quote, says that “an important element in the religion of the Etruscans was the doctrine of genii, a system of household deities who watched over the fortunes of individuals and families, and who are continually shown on the engravings in the sepulchres as guiding, or actively interested in, all the incidents that happen to those under their care. It was supposed that every person had two genii allotted to him, one inviting him to good deeds, the other to bad, and both accompanying him after death to the judgment to give in their testimony and turn the scales of his fate. This belief, sincerely held, would obviously wield a powerful influence over their feelings in the conduct of life.”

Etruscan views of divinities were similar to Egyptian and to Roman concepts, and we may well believe that the latter were largely influenced by the former. A multitude of deities were honored in Etruria, each having some particular station and office, a special form of representation, and a cycle of traditions. The Goddess of Fate was pictured with wings to indicate her swiftness, and with hammer and nails to show that her decrees were unalterably fixed. The supreme divinity Tinia resembles the Roman Jupiter Tonans with thunderbolt in hand. Twelve “consenting gods” compose Tinia’s council and bear the august title “Senators of Heaven.” These awful beings reside in the innermost recesses of Heaven, and it is not lawful to pronounce their names. They were not considered eternal, but only of very long duration, and beyond them were the yet more mysterious and awe-inspiring “Shrouded Gods,” who ruled all things.

These were much like the inscrutable “Necessity” which constituted the dim background of ancient Greek theology.

The Etruscans also indulged in weird conceptions of an Underworld, ruling over which they imagined two mysterious beings, Mantus and Mania.

Animal sacrifices were frequent, and human sacrifices occasional, among these strange ancient people.

We can readily understand many references to the awful heathen rites of many gentile nations which occur in the Psalms and elsewhere in the Bible, when we learn from Macrolius that in Etruria boys were sacrificed at an annual festival in honor of Mania, queen of the Underworld. “They offered their sons and their daughters unto devils,”—thus did Hebrew prophets and minstrels summarily dispose of the abominable orgies against which the seers in Israel waged constant and unrelenting warfare. In later days and milder times these awful propitiatory rites were supplanted by innocent offerings of flowers and vegetables to the divinities; poppies and onions were especially popular in Etruria for the later sacrificial rites.

Belief in future existence unmistakably exercised a dominating influence over the Etruscan mind, and, as with all other peoples, the realms beyond death were pictured as extremely various, ranging from a paradise of bliss to dark and frightful regions where penalties were meted out according to the gravity of the offenses which had called them forth. Death-bed scenes are depicted most vividly on Etruscan tombs; patriarchs are represented surrounded by weeping groups who can scarcely endure the pain of parting from such wise counselors; friends wave mournful farewells to their weeping loved ones; some of the departing are represented as quite resigned to their departure, while others go shrinkingly, as though reluctant to leave the earth and fearful of what may lie beyond. In this respect the experiences of humanity seem to have been about equally varied among all peoples in all ages, so much so that Cardinal Newman in "The Dream of Gerontius" attributes to a dying man—though a devout Catholic calling upon the sacred names of Jesus and Mary in his extremity, —the same feeling of terror at the approach of the disruption of bodily consistency, as has been experienced by pagan peoples on whom the light of the gospel according to Christianity had never shone.

There are but two reasonable interpretations of this world-wide reluctance to leave the material body. First, a natural shrinking from a change which is never fully understood. Second, an unconquerable conviction that the soul will get its just deserts, whatever such may be, in the future world. And as a large percentage of lives are by no means flawless, even in the estimation of the livers, it cannot be wondered at that in the solemn moment of transition, while bidding farewell to the accustomed earth, and often to near and dear friends from whom to part must always be a painful wrench, the soul should tremble somewhat at the mysteriousness of the undiscovered, even though the realms beyond be guided by the same unerring purpose and directed through the changeless operations of the same great law which guides us now and will continue to guide our path forever.

There are no proofs that the Etruscans believed in the translation of human souls to the heavens of the divinities, but they clearly portrayed much that was beautiful and attractive as awaiting the upright in the world to come. Into the realms of bliss many gates are shown surrounded by emblems denoting welcome ideas of deliverance from trial and the enjoyment of rest. While the guilty soul is terror-stricken at the approach of some spectral shape which comes to escort it to a place of darkness and grief, the heroic soul is transported through the “Eighth Gate” into the charming regions of the blessed.

In this brief mention of the Etruscan faith revealed through art, we have but added one more testimony to the numberless array of testimonies everywhere accumulating, all pointing to humanity's world-wide and ineradicable confidence in a life beyond physical transition, and also in many diverse conditions obtaining in the spirit-world.