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PRIMITIVE CULTURE
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<xxl><B>PRIMITIVE CULTURE</B></xxl>

<xl><B>RESEARCHES INTO THE DEVELOPMENT</B></xl>
<xl><B>OF MYTHOLOGY, PHILOSOPHY, RELIGION,</B></xl>
<xl><B>LANGUAGE, ART, AND CUSTOM</B></xl>

<xxl><B>BY EDWARD B. TYLOR, <abbr rend=spell>D.C.L., LL.D., F.R.S.</abbr></B></xxl>

<l><B>PROFESSOR OF ANTHROPOLOGY IN THE UNIVERSITY OF OXFORD
AUTHOR OF “RESEARCHES INTO THE EARLY HISTORY OF MANKIND,” ETC.</B></l>

<lang=fr>“Ce n’est pas dans les possibilités, c’est dans l’homme même qu’il
faut étudier l’homme: il ne s’agit pas d’imaginer ce qu’il auroit pû
ou dû faire, mais de regarder ce qu’il fait.”</lang>—<sc>De Brosses.</sc>


<xl><B>IN TWO VOLUMES</B></xl>

<xl><B><abbr=volume>VOL.</abbr> <abbr=two>II</abbr></B></xl>


LONDON
JOHN MURRAY, ALBEMARLE STREET, <abbr=west>W.</abbr>
1920
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<sc>Printed in <abbr rend=spell>U.S.A.</abbr></sc>

[<i>Rights of Translation and Reproduction reserved</i>]
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CONTENTS OF THE SECOND VOLUME.
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#CHAPTER <abbr=twelve>XII.</abbr>:chap12#

ANIMISM (<i>continued</i>).

Doctrine of Soul’s Existence after Death; its main divisions, Transmigration
and Future Life—Transmigration of Souls: re-birth in
Human and Animal Bodies, transference to Plants and Objects—Resurrection
of Body: scarcely held in savage religion—Future
Life: a general if not universal doctrine of low races—Continued
existence, rather than Immortality; second death of Soul—Ghost
of Dead remains on earth, especially if corpse unburied; its
attachment to bodily remains—Feasts of the Dead      #1#


#CHAPTER <abbr=thirteen>XIII.</abbr>:chap13#

ANIMISM (<i>continued</i>).

Journey of the Soul to the Land of the Dead—Visits by the Living
to the Regions of Departed Souls—Connexion of such legends
with myths of Sunset: the Land of the Dead thus imagined as
in the West—Realization of current religious ideas, whether of
savage or civilized theology, in narratives of visits to the Regions
of Souls—Localization of the Future Life—Distant earthly region:
Earthly Paradise, Isles of the Blest—Subterranean Hades or Sheol—Sun,
Moon, Stars—Heaven—Historical course of belief as to such
localization—Nature of Future Life—Continuance-theory, apparently
original, belongs especially to the lower races—Transitional
theories—Retribution-theory, apparently derived, belongs especially
to the higher races—Doctrine of Moral Retribution as developed
in the higher culture—Survey of Doctrine of Future State, from
savage to civilized stages—Its practical effect on the sentiment
and conduct of Mankind      #44#
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#CHAPTER <abbr=fourteen>XIV.</abbr>:chap14#

ANIMISM (<i>continued</i>).

Animism, expanding from the Doctrine of Souls to the wider
Doctrine of Spirits, becomes a complete Philosophy of Natural
Religion—Definition of Spirits similar to and apparently modelled
on that of Souls—Transition-stage: classes of Souls passing into
good and evil Demons—Manes-Worship—Doctrine of Embodiment
of Spirits in human, animal, vegetable, and inert bodies—Demoniacal
Possession and Obsession as causes of Disease and Oracle-inspiration—Fetishism—Disease-spirits
embodied—Ghost attached
to remains of Corpse—Fetish produced by a Spirit embodied in,
attached to, or operating through, an Object—Analogues of Fetish-doctrine
in Modern Science—Stock-and-Stone-Worship—Idolatry—Survival
of Animistic Phraseology in modern Language—Decline
of Animistic theory of Nature      #108#


#CHAPTER <abbr=fifteen>XV.</abbr>:chap15#

ANIMISM (<i>continued</i>).

Spirits regarded as personal causes of Phenomena of the World—Pervading
Spirits as good and evil Demons affecting man—Spirits
manifest in Dreams and Visions: Nightmares; Incubi and
Succubi; Vampires; Visionary Demons—Demons of darkness
repelled by fire—Demons otherwise manifest: seen by animals;
detected by footprints—Spirits conceived and treated as material—Guardian
and Familiar Spirits—Nature-Spirits; historical course
of the doctrine—Spirits of Volcanos, Whirlpools, Rocks—Water-Worship:
Spirits of Wells, Streams, Lakes, &c.—Tree-Worship:
Spirits embodied in or inhabiting Trees; Spirits of Groves and
Forests—Animal-worship: Animals Worshipped, directly, or as
incarnations or representatives of Deities; Totemism; Serpent-Worship—Species-Deities;
their relation to Archetypal Ideas      #184#


#CHAPTER <abbr=sixteen>XVI.</abbr>:chap16#

ANIMISM (<i>continued</i>).

Higher Deities of Polytheism—Human characteristics applied to
Deity—Lords of Spiritual Hierarchy—Polytheism: its course of
development in lower and higher Culture—Principles of its investigation;
classification of Deities according to central conceptions
of their significance and function—Heaven-god—Rain
god—Thunder-god—Wind-gods—Earth-god—Water
god—Sea-god—Fire-god—Sun-god—Moon-god      #247#
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#CHAPTER <abbr=seventeen>XVII.</abbr>:chap17#

ANIMISM (<i>continued</i>).

Polytheism comprises a class of great Deities, ruling the course of
Nature and the life of Man—Childbirth-god—Agriculture-god—War-god—God
of the Dead—First Man as Divine Ancestor—Dualism;
its rudimentary and unethical nature among low
races; its development through the course of culture—Good and
Evil Deity—Doctrine of Divine Supremacy, distinct from, while
tending towards, the doctrine of Monotheism—Idea of a Highest
or Supreme Deity evolved in various forms; its place as completion
of the Polytheistic system and outcome of the Animistic philosophy;
its continuance and development among higher nations—General
survey of Animism as a Philosophy of Religion—Recapitulation
of the theory advanced as to its development
through successive stages of culture; its primary phases best
represented among the lower races, while survivals of these
among the higher races mark the transition from savage through
barbaric to civilized faiths—Transition of Animism in the History
of Religion; its earlier and later stages as a Philosophy of the
Universe; its later stages as the principle of a Moral Institution      #304#


#CHAPTER <abbr=eighteen>XVIII.</abbr>:chap18#

RITES AND CEREMONIES.

Religious Rites: their purpose practical or symbolic—Prayer: its
continuity from low to high levels of Culture; its lower phases
Unethical; its higher phases Ethical—Sacrifice: its original Gift-theory
passes into the Homage-theory and the Abnegation-theory—Manner
of reception of Sacrifice by Deity—Material Transfer
to elements, fetish-animals, priests; consumption of substance
by deity or idol; offering of blood; transmission by fire; incense—Essential
transfer: consumption of essence, savour, &c.—Spiritual
Transfer: consumption or transmission of soul of offering—Motive
of Sacrificer—Transition from Gift-theory to Homage-theory:
insignificant and formal offerings; sacrificial banquets—Abnegation-theory;
sacrifice of children, &c.—Sacrifice of Substitutes:
part given for whole; inferior life for superior; effigies—Modern
survival of Sacrifice in folklore and religion—Fasting,
as a means of producing ecstatic vision; its course from lower
to higher Culture—Drugs use to produce ecstasy—Swoons and
fits induced for religious purposes—Orientation: its relation to
Sun-myth and Sun-worship; rules of East and West as to burial
of dead, position of worship, and structure of temple—Lustration
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by Water and Fire: its transition from material to symbolic purification;
its connexion with special events of life; its appearance
among the lower races—Lustration of new-born children;
of women; of those polluted by bloodshed or the dead—Lustration
continued at higher levels of Culture—Conclusion      #362#


#CHAPTER <abbr=nineteen>XIX.</abbr>:chap19#

CONCLUSION.

Practical results of the study of Primitive Culture—Its bearing least
upon Positive Science, greatest upon Intellectual, Moral, Social,
and Political Philosophy—Language—Mythology—Ethics and
Law—Religion—Action of the Science of Culture, as a means of
furthering progress and removing hindrance, effective in the
course of Civilization      #443#
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CHAPTER <abbr=twelve>XII.</abbr> | ANIMISM (<i>continued</i>).
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Doctrine of Soul’s Existence after Death; its main divisions, Transmigration
and Future Life—Transmigration of Souls: re-birth in Human
and Animal Bodies, transference to Plants and Objects—Resurrection
of Body: scarcely held in savage religion—Future Life: a general
if not universal doctrine of low races—Continued existence, rather
than Immortality; second death of Soul—Ghost of Dead remains
on earth, especially if corpse unburied; its attachment to bodily
remains—Feasts of the Dead.
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Having thus traced upward from the lower levels of culture
the opinions of mankind as to the souls, spirits, ghosts,
or phantoms, considered to belong to men, to the lower
animals, to plants, and to things, we are now prepared to
investigate one of the great religious doctrines of the world,
the belief in the soul’s continued existence in a Life after
Death. Here let us once more call to mind the consideration
which cannot be too strongly put forward, that the
doctrine of a Future Life as held by the lower races is the
all but necessary outcome of savage Animism. The evidence
that the lower races believe the figures of the dead
seen in dreams and visions to be their surviving souls, not
only goes far to account for the comparative universality of
their belief in the continued existence of the soul after the
death of the body, but it gives the key to many of their
speculations on the nature of this existence, speculations
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rational enough from the savage point of view, though apt
to seem far-fetched absurdities to moderns in their much
changed intellectual condition. The belief in a Future Life
falls into two main divisions. Closely connected and even
largely overlapping one another, both world-wide in their
distribution, both ranging back in time to periods of unknown
antiquity, both deeply rooted in the lowest strata of
human life which lie open to our observation, these two
doctrines have in the modern world passed into wonderfully
different conditions. The one is the theory of the Transmigration
of Souls, which has indeed risen from its lower
stages to establish itself among the huge religious communities
of Asia, great in history, enormous even in present
mass, yet arrested and as it seems henceforth unprogressive
in development; but the more highly educated world has
rejected the ancient belief, and it now only survives in
Europe in dwindling remnants. Far different has been the
history of the other doctrine, that of the independent existence
of the personal soul after the death of the body, in a
Future Life. Passing onward through change after change
in the condition of the human race, modified and renewed
in its long ethnic course, this great belief may be traced
from its crude and primitive manifestations among savage
races to its establishment in the heart of modern religion,
where the faith in a future existence forms at once an
inducement to goodness, a sustaining hope through suffering
and across the fear of death, and an answer to the perplexed
problem of the allotment of happiness and misery
in this present world, by the expectation of another world
to set this right.

In investigating the doctrine of Transmigration, it will
be well first to trace its position among the lower races, and
afterwards to follow its developments, so far as they extend
in the higher civilization. The temporary migration of
souls into material substances, from human bodies down to
morsels of wood and stone, is a most important part of the
lower psychology. But it does not relate to the continued
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existence of the soul after death, and may be more conveniently
treated of elsewhere, in connexion with such subjects
as dæmoniacal possession and fetish-worship. We
are here concerned with the more permanent tenancy of
souls for successive lives in successive bodies.

Permanent transition, new birth, or re-incarnation of
human souls in other human bodies, is especially considered
to take place by the soul of a deceased person
animating the body of an infant. It is recorded by
Brebeuf that the Hurons, when little children died, would
bury them by the wayside, that their souls might enter into
mothers passing by, and so be born again.[#] In North-West
America, among the Tacullis, we hear of direct transfusion
of soul by the medicine-man, who, putting his hands on the
breast of the dying or dead, then holds them over the head
of a relative and blows through them; the next child born
to this recipient of the departed soul is animated by it, and
takes the rank and name of the deceased.[#] The Nutka
Indians not without ingenuity accounted for the existence
of a distant tribe speaking the same language as themselves,
by declaring them to be the spirits of their dead.[#] In
Greenland, where the wretched custom of abandoning and
even plundering widows and orphans was tending to bring
the whole race to extinction, a helpless widow would seek
to persuade some father that the soul of a dead child of his
had passed into a living child of hers, or <i>vice versâ</i>, thus
gaining for herself a new relative and protector.[#] It is
mostly ancestral or kindred souls that are thought to enter
into children, and this kind of transmigration is therefore
from the savage point of view a highly philosophical theory,
accounting as it does so well for the general resemblance
between parents and children, and even for the more special
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phenomena of atavism. In North-West America, among
the Koloshes, the mother sees in a dream the deceased
relative whose transmitted soul will give his likeness to the
child;[#] and in Vancouver’s Island in 1860 a lad was much
regarded by the Indians because he had a mark like the
scar of a gun-shot wound on his hip, it being believed that
a chief dead some four generations before, who had such a
mark, had returned.[#] In Old Calabar, if a mother loses a
child, and another is born soon after, she thinks the departed
one to have come back.[#] The Wanika consider that the
soul of a dead ancestor animates a child, and this is why
it resembles its father or mother;[#] in Guinea a child bearing
a strong resemblance, physical or mental, to a dead
relative, is supposed to have inherited his soul;[#] and the
Yorubas, greeting a new-born infant with the salutation,
‘Thou art come!’ look for signs to show what ancestral
soul has returned among them.[#] Among the Khonds of
Orissa, births are celebrated by a feast on the seventh day,
and the priest, divining by dropping rice-grains in a cup of
water, and judging from observations made on the person
of the infant, determines which of his progenitors has reappeared,
and the child generally at least among the northern
tribes receives the name of that ancestor.[#] In Europe the
Lapps repeat an instructive animistic idea just noticed in
America; the future mother was told in a dream what
name to give her child, this message being usually given by
the very spirit of the deceased ancestor, who was about to
be incarnate in her.[#] Among the lower races generally the
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renewal of old family names by giving them to new-born
children may always be suspected of involving some such
thought. The following is a curious pair of instances from
the two halves of the globe. The New Zealand priest
would repeat to the infant a long list of names of its
ancestors, fixing upon that name which the child by sneezing
or crying when it was uttered, was considered to select
for itself; while the Cheremiss in Russia would shake the
baby till it cried, and then repeat names to it, till it chose
itself one by leaving off crying.[#]

The belief in the new human birth of the departed soul,
which has even led West African negroes to commit suicide
when in distant slavery, that they may revive in their own
land, in fact amounts among several of the lower races to a
distinct doctrine of an earthly resurrection. One of the
most remarkable forms which this belief assumes is when
dark-skinned races, wanting some reasonable theory to
account for the appearance among them of human creatures
of a new strange sort, the white men, and struck with
their pallid deathly hue combined with powers that seem
those of superhuman spiritual beings, have determined that
the manes of their dead must have come back in this
wondrous shape. The aborigines of Australia have expressed
this theory in the simple formula, ‘Blackfellow
tumble down, jump up Whitefellow.’ Thus a native who
was hanged years ago at Melbourne expressed in his last
moments the hopeful belief that he would jump up Whitefellow,
and have lots of sixpences. The doctrine has been
current among them since early days of European intercourse,
and in accordance with it they habitually regarded
the Englishmen as their own deceased kindred, come back
to their country from an attachment to it in a former life.
Real or imagined likeness completed the delusion, as when
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Sir George Grey was hugged and wept over by an old
woman who found in him a son she had lost, or when a
convict, recognized as a deceased relative, was endowed
anew with the land he had possessed during his former life.
A similar theory may be traced northward by the Torres
Islands to New Caledonia, where the natives thought the
white men to be the spirits of the dead who bring sickness,
and assigned this as their reason for wishing to kill white
men.[#] In Africa, again, the belief is found among the
Western negroes that they will rise again white, and the
Bari of the White Nile, believing in the resurrection of the
dead on earth, considered the first white people they saw as
departed spirits thus come back.[#]

Next, the lower psychology, drawing no definite line of
demarcation between souls of men and of beasts, can at
least admit without difficulty the transmission of human
souls into the bodies of the lower animals. A series of
examples from among the native tribes of America will
serve well to show the various ways in which such ideas are
worked out. The Ahts of Vancouver’s Island consider the
living man’s soul able to enter into other bodies of men
and animals, going in and out like the inhabitant of a
house. In old times, they say, men existed in the forms of
birds, beasts, and fishes, or these had the spirits of the
Indians in their bodies; some think that after death they
will pass again into the bodies of the animals they occupied
in this former state.[#] In an Indian district of North-West
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California, we find natives believing the spirits of their dead
to enter into bears, and travellers have heard of a tribe
begging the life of a wrinkle-faced old she grizzly bear as
the recipient of the soul of some particular grandam, whom
they fancied the creature to resemble.[#] So, among the
Esquimaux, a traveller noticed a widow who was living for
conscience’ sake upon birds, and would not touch walrus-meat,
which the angekok had forbidden her for a time,
because her late husband had entered into a walrus.[#]
Among other North American tribes, we hear of the Powhatans
refraining from doing harm to certain small wood-birds
which received the souls of their chiefs;[#] of Huron
souls turning into turtle-doves after the burial of their bones
at the Feast of the Dead;[#] of that pathetic funeral rite of
the Iroquois, the setting free a bird on the evening of
burial, to carry away the soul.[#] In Mexico, the Tlascalans
thought that after death the souls of nobles would animate
beautiful singing birds, while plebeians passed into weasels
and beetles and such like vile creatures.[#] So, in Brazil,
the Içannas say that the souls of the brave will become
beautiful birds, feeding on pleasant fruits, but cowards will
be turned into reptiles.[#] Among the Abipones we hear of
certain little ducks which fly in flocks at night, uttering a
mournful hiss, and which fancy associates with the souls of
the dead;[#] while in Popayan it is said that doves were not
killed, as inspired by departed souls.[#] Lastly, transmigration
into brutes is also a received doctrine in South America
as when a missionary heard a Chiriquane woman of western
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Brazil say of a fox, ‘May not that be the spirit of my dead
daughter?’[#]

In Africa, again, mention is made of the Maravi thinking
that the souls of bad men became jackals, and of good men
snakes.[#] The Zulus, while admitting that a man may turn
into a wasp or lizard, work out in the fullest way the idea
of the dead becoming snakes, a creature whose change of
skin has so often been associated with the thought of resurrection
and immortality. It is especially certain green
or brown harmless snakes, which come gently and fearlessly
into houses, which are considered to be ‘amatongo’ or
ancestors, and therefore are treated respectfully, and have
offerings of food given them. In two ways, the dead man
who has become a snake can still be recognized; if the
creature is one-eyed, or has a scar or some other mark, it is
recognized as the ‘itongo’ of a man who was thus marked
in life; but if he had no mark the ‘itongo’ appears in
human shape in dreams, thus revealing the personality of
the snake.[#] In Guinea, monkeys found near a graveyard
are supposed to be animated by the spirits of the dead, and
in certain localities monkeys, crocodiles, and snakes, being
thought men in metempsychosis, are held sacred.[#] It is to
be borne in mind that notions of this kind may form in
barbaric psychology but a portion of the wide doctrine of
the soul’s future existence. For a conspicuous instance of
this, let us take the system of the Gold-Coast negroes.
They believe that the ‘kla’ or ‘kra,’ the vital soul,
becomes at death a ‘sisa’ or ghost, which can remain in
the house with the body, plague the living, and cause sickness,
till it departs or is driven by the sorcerer to the bank
of the River Volta, where the ghosts build themselves
houses and dwell. But they can and do come back from
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this Land of Souls. They can be born again as souls in
new human bodies, and a soul who was poor before will now
be rich. Many will not come back as men, but will become
animals. To an African mother who has lost her child, it
is a consolation to say, ‘He will come again.’[#]

In higher levels of culture, the theory of re-embodiment
of the soul appears in strong and varied development.
Though seemingly not received by the early Aryans, the
doctrine of migration was adopted and adapted by Hindu
philosophy, and forms an integral part of that great system
common to Brahmanism and Buddhism, wherein successive
births or existences are believed to carry on the consequences
of past and prepare the antecedents of future life. To the
Hindu the body is but the temporary receptacle of the soul,
which, ‘bound in the chains of deeds’ and ‘eating the
fruits of past actions,’ promotes or degrades itself along a
series of embodiments in plant, beast, man, deity. Thus
all creatures differ rather in degree than kind, all are akin
to man, an elephant or ape or worm may once have been
human, and may become human again, a pariah or barbarian
is at once low-caste among men and high-caste among
brutes. Through such bodies migrate the sinful souls
which desire has drawn down from primal purity into gross
material being; the world where they do penance for the
guilt incurred in past existences is a huge reformatory, and
life is the long grievous process of developing evil into
good. The rules are set forth in the book of Manu how
souls endowed with the quality of goodness acquire divine
nature, while souls governed by passion take up the human
state, and souls sunk in darkness are degraded to brutes.
Thus the range of migration stretches downward from gods
and saints, through holy ascetics, Brahmans, nymphs, kings,
counsellors, to actors, drunkards, birds, dancers, cheats,
elephants, horses, Sudras, barbarians, wild beasts, snakes,
worms, insects, and inert things. Obscure as the relation
mostly is between the crime and its punishment in a new
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life, there may be discerned through the code of penal
transmigration an attempt at appropriateness of penalty,
and an intention to punish the sinner wherein he sinned.
For faults committed in a previous existence men are
afflicted with deformities, the stealer of food shall be
dyspeptic, the scandal-monger shall have foul breath, the
horse-stealer shall go lame, and in consequence of their
deeds men shall be born idiots, blind, deaf and dumb, mis-shaped,
and thus despised of good men. After expiation of
their wickedness in the hells of torment, the murderer of a
Brahman may pass into a wild beast or pariah; he who
adulterously dishonours his guru or spiritual father shall
be a hundred times re-born as grass, a bush, a creeper, a
carrion bird, a beast of prey; the cruel shall become blood-thirsty
beasts; stealers of grain and meat shall turn into
rats and vultures; the thief who took dyed garments,
kitchen-herbs, or perfumes, shall become accordingly a red
partridge, a peacock, or a musk-rat. In short, ‘in whatever
disposition of mind a man accomplishes such and such
an act, he shall reap the fruit in a body endowed with such
and such a quality.’[#] The recognition of plants as possible
receptacles of the transmigrating spirit well illustrates the
conception of souls of plants. The idea is one known to
lower races in a district of the world which has been under
Hindu influence. Thus we hear among the Dayaks of
Borneo of the human soul entering the trunks of trees,
where it may be seen damp and blood-like, but no longer
personal and sentient, or of its being re-born from an animal
which has eaten of the bark, flower, or fruit;[#] and the
Santals of Bengal are said to fancy that uncharitable men
and childless women are eaten eternally by worms and
snakes, while the good enter into fruit-bearing trees.[#]
But it is an open question how far these and the Hindu
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ideas of vegetable transmigration can be considered as
independent. A curious commentary on the Hindu working
out of the conception of plant-souls is to be found in a
passage in a <abbr=seventeenth>17th</abbr>-century work, which describes certain
Brahmans of the Coromandel Coast as eating fruits, but
being careful not to pull the plants up by the roots, lest
they should dislodge a soul; but few, it is remarked, are
so scrupulous as this, and the consideration has occurred
to them that souls in roots and herbs are most vile and
abject bodies, so that if dislodged they may become better
off by entering into the bodies of men or beasts.[#] Moreover,
the Brahmanic doctrine of souls transmigrating into
inert things has in like manner a bearing on the savage
theory of object-souls.[#]

Buddhism, like the Brahmanism from which it seceded,
habitually recognized transmigration between superhuman
and human beings and the lower animals, and in an exceptional
way recognized a degradation even into a plant or
a thing. How the Buddhist mind elaborated the doctrine
of metempsychosis, may be seen in the endless legends of
Gautama himself undergoing his 550 births, suffering pain
and misery through countless ages to gain the power of
freeing sentient beings from the misery inherent in all
existence. Four times he became Maha Brahma, twenty
times the dewa Sekra, and many times or few he passed
through such stages as a hermit, a king, a rich man, a slave,
a potter, a gambler, a curer of snake bites, an ape, an
elephant, a bull, a serpent, a snipe, a fish, a frog, the dewa
or genius of a tree. At last, when he became the supreme
Buddha, his mind, like a vessel overflowing with honey,
overflowed with the ambrosia of truth, and he proclaimed
his triumph over life:—
// File: 020.png
.pn +1

.pm verse-start
‘Painful are repeated births.
O house-builder! I have seen thee,
Thou canst not build again a house for me.
Thy rafters are broken
Thy roof-timbers are shattered.
My mind is detached,
I have attained to the extinction of desire.’
.pm verse-end

Whether the Buddhists receive the full Hindu doctrine of
the migration of the individual soul from birth to birth, or
whether they refine away into metaphysical subtleties the
notion of continued personality, they do consistently and
systematically hold that a man’s life in former existences is
the cause of his now being what he is, while at this moment
he is accumulating merit or demerit whose result will
determine his fate in future lives. Memory, it is true, fails
generally to recall these past births, but memory, as we
know, stops short of the beginning even of this present life.
When King Bimsara’s feet were burned and rubbed with salt
by command of his cruel son that he might not walk, why
was this torture inflicted on a man so holy? Because in
a previous birth he had walked near a dagoba with his
slippers on, and had trodden on a priest’s carpet without
washing his feet. A man may be prosperous for a time on
account of the merit he has received in former births, but
if he does not continue to keep the precepts, his next birth
will be in one of the hells, he will then be born in this world
as a beast, afterwards as a preta or sprite; a proud man
may be born again ugly with large lips, or as a demon or a
worm. The Buddhist theory of ‘karma’ or ‘action,’
which controls the destiny of all sentient beings, not by
judicial reward and punishment, but by the inflexible result
of cause into effect, wherein the present is ever determined
by the past in an unbroken line of causation, is indeed one
of the world’s most remarkable developments of ethical
speculation.[#]
// File: 021.png
.pn +1

Within the classic world, the ancient Egyptians were
described as maintaining a doctrine of migration, whether
by successive embodiments of the immortal soul through
creatures of earth, sea, and air, and back again to man, or
by the simpler judicial penalty which sent back the wicked
dead to earth as unclean beasts.[#] The pictures and
hieroglyphic sentences of the Book of the Dead, however,
do not afford the necessary confirmation for these statements,
even the mystic transformations of the soul not
being of the nature of transmigrations. Thus it seems that
the theological centre whence the doctrine of moral metempsychosis
may have spread over the ancient cultured
religions, must be sought elsewhere than in Egypt. In
Greek philosophy, great teachers stood forth to proclaim
the doctrine in a highly developed form. Plato had mythic
knowledge to convey of souls entering such new incarnations
as their glimpse of real existence had made them fit
for, from the body of a philosopher or a lover down to the
body of a tyrant and usurper; of souls transmigrating into
beasts and rising again to man according to the lives they
led; of birds that were light-minded souls; of oysters
suffering in banishment the penalty of utter ignorance.
Pythagoras is made to illustrate in his own person his
doctrine of metempsychosis, by recognizing where it hung
in Here’s temple the shield he had carried in a former
birth, when he was that Euphorbos whom Menelaos slew
at the siege of Troy. Afterwards he was Hermotimos, the
Klazomenian prophet whose funeral rites were so prematurely
celebrated while his soul was out, and after that,
as Lucian tells the story, his prophetic soul passed into the
body of a cock. Mikyllos asks this cock to tell him about
Troy—were things there really as Homer said? But the
cock replies, ‘How should Homer have known, O Mikyllos?
When the Trojan war was going on, he was a camel in
Baktria!’[#]
// File: 022.png
.pn +1

In the later Jewish philosophy, the Kabbalists took up
the doctrine of migration, the <lang=he><i>gilgul</i></lang> or ‘rolling on’ of souls,
and maintained it by that characteristic method of Biblical
interpretation which it is good to hold up from time to time
for a warning to the mystical interpreters of our own day.
The soul of Adam passed into David, and shall pass into
the Messiah, for are not these initials in the very name of
Ad(a)m, and does not Ezekiel say that ‘my servant David
shall be their prince for ever.’ Cain’s soul passed into
Jethro, and Abel’s into Moses, and therefore it was that
Jethro gave Moses his daughter to wife. Souls migrate into
beasts and birds and vermin, for is not Jehovah ‘the lord
of the spirits of all flesh’? and he who has done one sin
beyond his good works shall pass into a brute. He who
gives a Jew unclean meat to eat, his soul shall enter into a
leaf, blown to and fro by the wind; ‘for ye shall be as an
oak whose leaf fadeth;’ and he who speaks ill words, his
soul shall pass into a dumb stone, as did Nabal’s, ‘and he
became a stone.’[#] Within the range of Christian influence
the Manichæans appear as the most remarkable exponents
of the metempsychosis. We hear of their ideas of sinners’
souls transmigrating into beasts, the viler according to their
crimes; that he who kills a fowl or rat will become a fowl or
rat himself; that souls can pass into plants rooted in the
ground, which thus have not only life but sense; that the
souls of reapers pass into beans and barley, to be cut down
in their turn, and thus the elect were careful to explain to
the bread when they ate it, that it was not they who reaped
the corn it was made of; that the souls of the auditors, that
is, the spiritually low commonalty who lived a married life,
would pass into melons and cucumbers, to finish their purification
by being eaten by the elect. But these details come
to us from the accounts of bitter theological adversaries, and
// File: 023.png
.pn +1
the question is, how much of them did the Manichæans really
and soberly believe? Allowing for exaggeration and constructive
imputation, there is some reason to consider the
account at least founded on fact. The Manichæans appear
to have recognized a wandering of imperfect souls, whether
or not their composite religion may with its Zarathustrian
and Christian elements have also absorbed in so Indian a
shape the doctrine of purification of souls by migration into
animals and plants.[#] In later times, the doctrine of
metempsychosis has been again and again noticed in a
district of South-Western Asia. William of Ruysbroek
speaks of the notion of souls passing from body to body as
general among the mediæval Nestorians, even a somewhat
intelligent priest consulting him as to the souls of brutes,
whether they could find refuge elsewhere so as not to be
compelled to labour after death. Rabbi Benjamin of Tudela
records in the <abbr=twelfth>12th</abbr> century of the Druses of Mount Hermon:
‘They say that the soul of a virtuous man is transferred to
the body of a new-born child, whereas that of the vicious
transmigrates into a dog, or some other animal.’ Such ideas
indeed, seem not yet extinct in the modern Druse nation.
Among the Nassairi, also, transmigration is believed in as
a penance and purification: we hear of migration of
unbelievers into camels, asses, dogs, or sheep, of disobedient
Nassairi into Jews, Sunnis, or Christians, of the faithful
into new bodies of their own people, a few such changes of
‘shirt’ (i.e. body), bringing them to enter paradise or
become stars.[#] An instance of the belief within the limits
of modern Christian Europe may be found among the Bulgarians,
whose superstition is that Turks who have never
eaten pork in life will become wild boars after death. A
// File: 024.png
.pn +1
party assembled to feast on a boar has been known to throw
it all away, for the meat jumped off the spit into the fire,
and a piece of cotton was found in the ears, which the wise
man decided to be a piece of the ci-devant Turk’s turban.[#]
Such cases, however, are exceptional. Metempsychosis
never became one of the great doctrines of Christendom,
though not unknown in mediæval scholasticism, and
though maintained by an eccentric theologian here and
there into our own times. It would be strange were it not
so. It is in the very nature of the development of religion
that speculations of the earlier culture should dwindle to
survivals, yet be again and again revived. Doctrines
transmigrate, if souls do not; and metempsychosis,
wandering along the course of ages, came at last to animate
the souls of Fourier and Soame Jenyns.[#]

Thus we have traced the theory of metempsychosis in
stage after stage of the world’s civilization, scattered among
the native races of America and Africa, established in the
Asiatic nations, especially where elaborated by the Hindu
mind into its system of ethical philosophy, rising and falling
in classic and mediæval Europe, and lingering at last in the
modern world as an intellectual crotchet, of little account
but to the ethnographer who notes it down as an item of
// File: 025.png
.pn +1
evidence for his continuity of culture. What, we may well
ask, was the original cause and motive of the doctrine of
transmigration? Something may be said in answer, though
not at all enough for full explanation. The theory that
ancestral souls return, thus imparting their own likeness of
mind and body to their descendants and kindred, has been
already mentioned and commended as in itself a very reasonable
and philosophical hypothesis, accounting for the phenomenon
of family likeness going on from generation to
generation. But why should it have been imagined that
men’s souls could inhabit the bodies of beasts and birds?
As has been already pointed out, savages not unreasonably
consider the lower animals to have souls like their own,
and this state of mind makes the idea of a man’s soul transmigrating
into a beast’s body at least seem possible. But it
does not actually suggest the idea. The view stated in a
previous chapter as to the origin of the conception of soul
in general, may perhaps help us here. As it seems that the
first conception of souls may have been that of the souls of
men, this being afterwards extended by analogy to the souls
of animals, plants, &c., so it may seem that the original
idea of transmigration was the straightforward and reasonable
one of human souls being re-born in new human bodies,
where they are recognized by family likenesses in successive
generations. This notion may have been afterwards extended
to take in re-birth in bodies of animals, &c. There are some
well-marked savage ideas which will fit with such a course
of thought. The half-human features and actions and
characters of animals are watched with wondering sympathy
by the savage, as by the child. The beast is the very incarnation
of familiar qualities of man; and such names as lion,
bear, fox, owl, parrot, viper, worm, when we apply them as
epithets to men, condense into a word some leading feature
of a human life. Consistently with this, we see in looking
over details of savage transmigration that the creatures
often have an evident fitness to the character of the human
beings whose souls are to pass into them, so that the savage
// File: 026.png
.pn +1
philosopher’s fancy of transferred souls offered something
like an explanation of the likeness between beast and man.
This comes more clearly into view among the more civilized
races who have worked out the idea of transmigration into
ethical schemes of retribution, where the appropriateness of
the creatures chosen is almost as manifest to the modern
critic as it could have been to the ancient believer. Perhaps
the most graphic restoration of the state of mind in
which the theological doctrine of metempsychosis was
worked out in long-past ages, may be found in the writings
of a modern theologian whose spiritualism often follows to
the extreme the intellectual tracks of the lower races. In
the spiritual world, says Emanuel Swedenborg, such persons
as have opened themselves for the admission of the devil
and acquired the nature of beasts, becoming foxes in cunning,
&c., appear also at a distance in the proper shape of
such beasts as they represent in disposition.[#] Lastly, one of
the most notable points about the theory of transmigration
is its close bearing upon a thought which lies very deep in
the history of philosophy, the development-theory of
organic life in successive stages. An elevation from the
vegetable to the lower animal life, and thence onward
through the higher animals to man, to say nothing of
superhuman beings, does not here require even a succession
of distinct individuals, but is brought by the theory of
metempsychosis within the compass of the successive
vegetable and animal lives of a single being.

Here a few words may be said on a subject which cannot
be left out of sight, connecting as it does the two great
branches of the doctrine of future existence, but which it
is difficult to handle in definite terms, and much more to
trace historically by comparing the views of lower and
higher races. This is the doctrine of a bodily renewal or
// File: 027.png
.pn +1
resurrection. To the philosophy of the lower races it is
by no means necessary that the surviving soul should be
provided with a new body, for it seems itself to be of a
filmy or vaporous corporeal nature, capable of carrying on
an independent existence like other corporeal creatures.
Savage descriptions of the next world are often such absolute
copies of this, that it is scarcely possible to say
whether the dead are or are not thought of as having bodies
like the living; and a few pieces of evidence of this class
are hardly enough to prove the lower races to hold original
and distinct doctrines of corporeal resurrection.[#] Again,
attention must be given to the practice, so common among
low and high races, of preserving relics of the dead, from
mere morsels of bone up to whole mummified bodies. It
is well known that the departed soul is often thought apt
to revisit the remains of the body, as is seen in the well-known
pictures of the Egyptian funeral ritual. But the
preservation of these remains, even where it thus involves
a permanent connexion between body and soul, does not
necessarily approach more closely to a bodily resurrection.[#]
In discussing the closely allied doctrine of metempsychosis,
I have described the theory of the soul’s transmigration
into a new human body as asserting in fact an
earthly resurrection. From the same point of view, a
bodily resurrection in Heaven or Hades is technically a
transmigration of the soul. This is plain among the higher
races, in whose religion these doctrines take at once clearer
definition and more practical import. There are some distinct
mentions of bodily resurrection in the Rig Veda: the
dead is spoken of as glorified, putting on his body (<lang=sa>tanu</lang>);
and it is even promised that the pious man shall be born in
the next world with his entire body (<lang=sa>sarvatanû</lang>). In Brahminism
// File: 028.png
.pn +1
and Buddhism, the re-births of souls in bodies to
inhabit heavens and hells are simply included as particular
cases of transmigration. The doctrine of the resurrection
appears far back in the religion of Persia, and is thence supposed
to have passed into late Jewish belief.[#] In early Christianity,
the conception of bodily resurrection is developed
with especial strength and fulness in the Pauline doctrine.
For an explicit interpretation of this doctrine, such as commended
itself to the minds of later theologians, it is instructive
to cite the remarkable passage of Origen, where he speaks
of ‘corporeal matter, of which matter, in whatever quality
placed, the soul always has use, now indeed carnal, but afterwards
indeed subtler and purer, which is called spiritual.’[#]

Passing from these metaphysical doctrines of civilized
theology, we now take up a series of beliefs higher in practical
moment, and more clearly conceived in savage thought.
There may well have been, and there may still be, low races
destitute of any belief in a Future State. Nevertheless,
prudent ethnographers must often doubt accounts of such,
for this reason, that the savage who declares that the dead
live no more, may merely mean to say that they are dead.
When the East African is asked what becomes of his buried
ancestors, the ‘old people,’ he can reply that ‘they are
ended,’ yet at the same time he fully admits that their
ghosts survive.[#] In an account of the religious ideas of the
Zulus, taken down from a native, it is explicitly stated that
Unkulunkulu the Old-Old-One said that people ‘were to
die and never rise again,’ and that he allowed them to ‘die
and rise no more.’[#] Knowing so thoroughly as we now do
the theology of the Zulus, whose ghosts not only survive in
// File: 029.png
.pn +1
the under-world, but are the very deities of the living, we
can put the proper sense to these expressions. But without
such information, we might have mistaken them for denials
of the soul’s existence after death. This objection may even
apply to one of the most formal denials of a future life ever
placed on record among an uncultured race, a poem of the
Dinka tribe of the White Nile, concerning Dendid the
Creator:—

.pm verse-start
‘On the day when Dendid made all things,
  He made the sun;
And the sun comes forth, goes down, and comes again:
  He made the moon;
And the moon comes forth, goes down, and comes again:
  He made the stars;
And the stars come forth, go down, and come again:
  He made man;
And man comes forth, goes down into the ground, and comes no more.’
.pm verse-end

It is to be remarked, however, that the close neighbours
of these Dinka, the Bari, believe that the dead do return to
live again on earth, and the question arises whether it is the
doctrine of bodily resurrection, or the doctrine of the surviving
ghost-soul, that the Dinka poem denies. The missionary
Kaufmann says that the Dinka do not believe the
immortality of the soul, that they think it but a breath,
and with death all is over; Brun-Rollet’s contrary
authority goes to prove that they do believe in another
life; both leave it an open question whether they recognize
the existence of surviving ghosts.[#]

Looking at the religion of the lower races as a whole, we
shall at least not be ill-advised in taking as one of its general
and principal elements the doctrine of the soul’s Future
Life. But here it is needful to explain, to limit, and to
reserve, lest modern theological ideas should lead us to
misconstrue more primitive beliefs. In such enquiries the
// File: 030.png
.pn +1
phrase ‘immortality of the soul’ is to be avoided as misleading.
It is doubtful how far the lower psychology entertains
at all an absolute conception of immortality, for past
and future fade soon into utter vagueness as the savage mind
quits the present to explore them, the measure of months
and years breaks down even within the narrow span of
human life, and the survivor’s thought of the soul of the
departed dwindles and disappears with the personal memory
that kept it alive. The doctrine of the surviving soul may
indeed be treated as common to all known races, though its
acceptance is not unanimous. In savage as in civilized life,
dull and careless natures ignore a world to come as too far
off, while sceptical intellects are apt to reject its belief as
wanting proof. There are even statements on record of
whole classes being formally excluded from future life.
This may be a matter of social pride. In the Tonga Islands,
according to Mariner, it was held that the chiefs and nobles
would live hereafter in the happy island of Bolotu, but that
the souls of the common people would die with their bodies.
So Captain John Smith relates as to the belief of the
Virginians, that the chiefs went after death beyond the
sunset mountains, there to dance and sing with their predecessors,
‘but the common people they suppose shall not
live after death.’ In the record of a missionary examination
of the Nicaraguans, they are made to state their belief
that if a man lived well, his soul would ascend to dwell
among the gods, but if ill it would perish with the body,
and there would be an end of it.[#] None of these accounts,
however, agree with what is known of the religion of
kindred peoples, Polynesian, Algonquin, or Aztec. But
granted that the soul survives the death of the body,
instance after instance from the records of the lower
culture shows this soul to be regarded as a mortal
being, liable like the body itself to accident and death.
The Greenlanders pitied the poor souls who must pass
in winter or in storm the dreadful mountain where
// File: 031.png
.pn +1
the dead descend to reach the other world, for then a
soul is like to come to harm, and die the other death where
there is nothing left, and this is to them the dolefullest thing
of all.[#] Thus the Fijians tell of the fight which the ghost
of a departed warrior must wage with the soul-killing Samu
and his brethren; this is the contest for which the dead man
is armed by burying the war-club with his corpse, and if he
conquers, the way is open for him to the judgment-seat of
Ndengei, but if he is wounded, his doom is to wander among
the mountains, and if killed in the encounter he is cooked
and eaten by Samu and his brethren. But the souls of unmarried
Fijians will not even survive to stand this wager of
battle; such try in vain to steal at low water round to the
edge of the reef past the rocks where Nangananga, destroyer
of wifeless souls, sits laughing at their hopeless efforts, and
asking them if they think the tide will never flow again, till
at last the rising flood drives the shivering ghosts to the
beach, and Nangananga dashes them in pieces on the great
black stone, as one shatters rotten firewood.[#] Such, again,
were the tales told by the Guinea negroes of the life or
death of departed souls. Either the great priest before
whom they must appear after death would judge them, sending
the good in peace to a happy place, but killing the wicked
a second time with the club that stands ready before his
dwelling; or else the departed shall be judged by their god
at the river of death, to be gently wafted by him to a pleasant
land if they have kept feasts and oaths and abstained from
forbidden meats, but if not, to be plunged into the river by
the god, and thus drowned and buried in eternal oblivion.[#]
Even common water can drown a negro ghost, if we may
believe the missionary Cavazzi’s story of the Matamba
widows being ducked in the river or pond to drown off the
// File: 032.png
.pn +1
souls of their departed husbands, who might still be hanging
about them, clinging closest to the best-loved wives.
After this ceremony, they went and married again.[#] From
such details it appears that the conception of some souls
suffering extinction at death or dying a second death, a
thought still as heretofore familiar to speculative theology,
is not unknown in the lower culture.

The soul, as recognized in the philosophy of the lower
races, may be defined as an ethereal surviving being, conceptions
of which preceded and led up to the more transcendental
theory of the immaterial and immortal soul,
which forms part of the theology of higher nations. It is
principally the ethereal surviving soul of early culture that
has now to be studied in the religions of savages and barbarians
and the folk-lore of the civilized world. That this
soul should be looked on as surviving beyond death is a
matter scarcely needing elaborate argument. Plain experience
is there to teach it to every savage; his friend or
his enemy is dead, yet still in dream or open vision he sees
the spectral form which is to his philosophy a real objective
being, carrying personality as it carries likeness. This
thought of the soul’s continued existence is, however, but
the gateway into a complex region of belief. The doctrines
which, separate or compounded, make up the scheme of
future existence among particular tribes, are principally
these: the theories of lingering, wandering, and returning
ghosts, and of souls dwelling on or below or above the earth
in a spirit-world, where existence is modelled upon the
earthly life, or raised to higher glory, or placed under reversed
conditions, and lastly, the belief in a division between
happiness and misery of departed souls, by a retribution for
deeds done in life, determined in a judgment after death.

‘All argument is against it; but all belief is for it,’ said
Dr. Johnson of the apparition of departed spirits. The
doctrine that ghost-souls of the dead hover among the
// File: 033.png
.pn +1
living is indeed rooted in the lowest levels of savage
culture, extends through barbaric life almost without a
break, and survives largely and deeply in the midst of civilization.
From the myriad details of travellers, missionaries,
historians, theologians, spiritualists, it may be
laid down as an admitted opinion, as wide in distribution
as it is natural in thought, that the two chief hunting-grounds
of the departed soul are the scenes of its fleshly
life and the burial place of its body. As in North America
the Chickasaws believed that the spirits of the dead in
their bodily shape moved about among the living in great
joy; as the Aleutian islanders fancied the souls of the
departed walking unseen among their kindred, and accompanying
them in their journeys by sea and land; as Africans
think that souls of the dead dwell in their midst, and eat
with them at meal times; as Chinese pay their respects to
kindred spirits present in the hall of ancestors;[#] so multitudes
in Europe and America live in an atmosphere that
swarms with ghostly shapes—spirits of the dead, who sit over
against the mystic by his midnight fire, rap and write in spirit-circles,
and peep over girls’ shoulders as they scare themselves
into hysterics with ghost-stories. Almost throughout
the vast range of animistic religion, we shall find the
souls of the departed hospitably entertained by the survivors
on set occasions, and manes-worship, so deep and strong
among the faiths of the world, recognizes with a reverence
not without fear and trembling those ancestral spirits
which, powerful for good or ill, manifest their presence
among mankind. Nevertheless death and life dwell but ill
together, and from savagery onward there is recorded many
a device by which the survivors have sought to rid themselves
of household ghosts. Though the unhappy savage
custom of deserting houses after a decease may often be
connected with other causes, such as horror or abnegation
of all things belonging to the dead, there are cases where it
// File: 034.png
.pn +1
appears that the place is simply abandoned to the ghost.
In Old Calabar it was customary for the son to leave his
fathers’ house to decay, but after two years he might rebuild
it, the ghost being thought by that time to have
departed;[#] the Hottentots abandoned the dead man’s
house, and were said to avoid entering it lest the ghost
should be within;[#] the Yakuts let the hut fall in ruins
where any one had expired, thinking it the habitation of
demons;[#] the Karens were said to destroy their villages to
escape the dangerous neighbourhood of departed souls.[#]
Such proceedings, however, scarcely extend beyond the
limits of barbarism, and only a feeble survival of the old
thought lingers on into civilization, where from time to time
a haunted house is left to fall in ruins, abandoned to a
ghostly tenant who cannot keep it in repair. But even in
the lowest culture we find flesh holding its own against
spirit, and at higher stages the householder rids himself
with little scruple of an unwelcome inmate. The Greenlanders
would carry the dead out by the window, not by the
door, while an old woman, waving a firebrand behind, cried
‘piklerrukpok!’ i.e., ‘there is nothing more to be had
here!’;[#] the Hottentots removed the dead from the hut by
an opening broken out on purpose, to prevent him from
finding the way back;[#] the Siamese, with the same intention,
break an opening through the house wall to carry the
coffin through, and then hurry it at full speed thrice round
the house;[#] in Russia the Chuwashes fling a red-hot stone
// File: 035.png
.pn +1
after the corpse is carried out, for an obstacle to bar the
soul from coming back;[#] so Brandenburg peasants pour out
a pail of water at the door after the coffin, to prevent the
ghost from walking; and Pomeranian mourners returning
from the churchyard leave behind the straw from the hearse
that the wandering soul may rest there, and not come back
so far as home.[#] In the ancient and mediæval world, men
habitually invoked supernatural aid beyond such material
shifts as these, calling in the priest to lay or banish intruding
ghosts, nor is this branch of the exorcist’s art even
yet forgotten. There is, and always has been, a prevalent
feeling that disembodied souls, especially such as have
suffered a violent or untimely death, are baneful and malicious
beings. As Meiners suggests in his ‘History of
Religions,’ they were driven unwillingly from their bodies,
and have carried into their new existence an angry longing
for revenge. No wonder that mankind should so generally
agree that if the souls of the dead must linger in the world
at all, their fitting abode should be not the haunts of the
living but the resting-places of the dead.

After all, it scarcely seems to the lower animistic philosophy
that the connexion between body and soul is utterly
broken by death. Various wants may keep the soul from
its desired rest, and among the chief of these is when its
mortal remains have not had the funeral rites. Hence the
deep-lying belief that the ghosts of such will walk. Among
some Australian tribes the ‘ingna,’ or evil spirits, human
in shape, but with long tails and long upright ears, are
mostly souls of departed natives, whose bodies were left to
lie unburied or whose death the avenger of blood did not
expiate, and thus they have to prowl on the face of the
earth, and about the place of death, with no gratification
// File: 036.png
.pn +1
but to harm the living.[#] In New Zealand, the ideas were
to be found that the souls of the dead were apt to linger
near the bodies, and that the spirits of men left unburied
or killed in battle and eaten, would wander; and the bringing
such malignant souls to dwell within the sacred burial-enclosure
was a task for the priest to accomplish with his
charms.[#] Among the Iroquois of North America the spirit
also stays near the body for a time, and ‘unless the rites
of burial were performed, it was believed that the spirits of
the dead hovered for a time upon the earth, in a state of
great unhappiness. Hence their extreme solicitude to procure
the bodies of the slain in battle.’[#] Among Brazilian
tribes, the wandering shadows of the dead are said to be
considered unresting till burial.[#] In Turanian regions of
North Asia, the spirits of the dead who have no resting-place
in earth are thought of as lingering above ground,
especially where their dust remains.[#] South Asia has such
beliefs: the Karens say that the ghosts who wander on
earth are not the spirits of those who go to Plu, the land
of the dead, but of infants, of such as died by violence, of
the wicked, and of those who by accident have not been
buried or burned;[#] the Siamese fear as unkindly spirits the
souls of such as died a violent death or were not buried
with the proper rites, and who desiring expiation, invisibly
terrify their descendants.[#] Nowhere in the world had
such thoughts a stronger hold than in classic antiquity,
where it was the most sacred of duties to give the body
its funeral rites, that the shade should not flit moaning
near the gates of Hades, nor wander in the dismal crowd
// File: 037.png
.pn +1
along the banks of Acheron.[#] An Australian or a Karen
would have taken in the full significance of the fatal
accusation against the Athenian commanders, that they
abandoned the bodies of their dead in the sea-fight of
Arginousai. The thought is not unknown to Slavonic
folk-lore: ‘Ha! with the shriek the spirit flutters from
the mouth, flies up to the tree, from tree to tree, hither
and thither till the dead is burned.’[#] In mediæval
Europe the classic stories of ghosts that haunt the living
till laid by rites of burial pass here and there into new
legends, where, under a changed dispensation, the doleful
wanderer now asks Christian burial in consecrated earth.[#]
It is needless to give here elaborate details of the world-wide
thought that when the corpse is buried, exposed,
burned, or otherwise disposed of after the accepted custom
of the land, the ghost accompanies its relics. The soul
stays near the Polynesian or the American Indian burial-place;
it dwells among the twigs and listens joyfully to the
singing birds in the trees where Siberian tribes suspend
their dead; it lingers by the Samoyed’s scaffolded coffin;
it haunts the Dayak’s place of burial or burning; it inhabits
the little soul-hut above the Malagasy grave, or the Peruvian
house of sun-dried bricks; it is deposited in the
Roman tomb (<lang=la>animamque sepulchro condimus</lang>); it comes
back for judgment into the body of the later Israelite and
the Moslem; it inhabits, as a divine ancestral spirit, the
palace-tombs of the old classic and new Asiatic world; it is
kept down by the huge cairn raised over Antar’s body lest
his mighty spirit should burst forth, by the iron nails with
which the Cheremiss secures the corpse in its coffin, by the
stake that pins down the suicide’s body at the four-cross
way. And through all the changes of religious thought
from first to last in the course of human history, the hovering
// File: 038.png
.pn +1
ghosts of the dead make the midnight burial-ground a
place where men’s flesh creeps with terror. Not to discuss
here the general subject of funeral rites of mankind, of
which only part of the multifarious details are directly relevant
to the present purpose, a custom may be selected
which is admirably adapted for the study of animistic
religion, at once from the clear conception it gives of the
belief in disembodied souls present among the living, and
from the distinct line of ethnographic continuity in which
it may be traced onward from the lower to the higher
culture. This is the custom of Feasts of the Dead.

Among the funeral offerings described in the last chapter
of which the purpose more or less distinctly appears to be
that the departed soul shall take them away in some ghostly
or ideal manner, or that they shall by some means be conveyed
to him in his distant spirit-home, there are given
supplies of food and drink. But the feasts of the dead with
which we are now concerned are given on a different principle;
they are, so to speak, to be consumed on the premises.
They are set out in some proper place, especially near
the tombs or in the dwelling-houses, and there the souls of
the dead come and satisfy themselves. In North America,
among Algonquins who held that one of a man’s two souls
abides with the body after death, the provisions brought to
the grave were intended for the nourishment of this soul;
tribes would make offerings to ancestors of part of any
dainty food, and an Indian who fell by accident into the
fire would believe that the spirits of his ancestors pushed
him in for neglecting to make due offerings.[#] The minds
of the Hurons were filled with fancies not less lifelike than
this. It seemed to them that the dead man’s soul, in his
proper human figure, walked in front of the corpse as they
carried it to the burial-ground, there to dwell till the great
feast of the dead; but meanwhile it would come and walk
by night in the village, and eat the remnants in the kettles,
// File: 039.png
.pn +1
wherefore some would not eat of these, nor touch the food
at funeral feasts—though some indeed would eat all.[#] In
Madagascar, the elegant little upper chamber in King
Radama’s mausoleum was furnished with a table and two
chairs, and a bottle of wine, a bottle of water, and two
tumblers were placed there conformably with the ideas
entertained by most of the natives, that the ghost of the
departed monarch might occasionally visit the resting-place
of his body, meet with the spirit of his father, and partake
of what he was known to be fond of in his lifetime.[#] The
Wanika of East Africa set a coco-nut shell full of rice and
tembo near the grave for the ‘koma’ or shade, which
cannot exist without food and drink.[#] In West Africa the
Efik cook food and leave it on the table in the little shed
or ‘devil-house’ near the grave, and thither not only the
spirit of the deceased, but the spirits of the slaves sacrificed
at his funeral, come to partake of it.[#] Farther south, in the
Congo district, the custom has been described of making a
channel into the tomb to the head or mouth of the corpse,
whereby to send down month by month the offerings of
food and drink.[#]

Among rude Asiatic tribes, the Bodo of North-East India
thus celebrate the last funeral rites. The friends repair to
the grave, and the nearest of kin to the deceased, taking an
individual’s usual portion of food and drink, solemnly presents
it to the dead with these words, ‘Take and eat, heretofore
you have eaten and drunk with us, you can do so no
more; you were one of us, you can be so no longer; we
come no more to you, come you not to us.’ Thereupon each
of the party breaks off a bracelet of thread put on his wrist
for this purpose, and casts it on the grave, a speaking symbol
of breaking the bond of fellowship, and ‘next the party
// File: 040.png
.pn +1
proceed to the river and bathe, and having thus lustrated
themselves, they repair to the banquet and eat, drink, and
make merry as though they never were to die.’[#] With more
continuance of affection, Naga tribes of Assam celebrate
their funeral feasts month by month, laying food and drink
on the graves of the departed.[#] In the same region of the
world, the Kol tribes of Chota Nagpur are remarkable for
their pathetic reverence for their dead. When a Ho or Munda
has been burned on the funeral pile, collected morsels of his
bones are carried in procession with a solemn, ghostly, sliding
step, keeping time to the deep-sounding drum, and when
the old woman who carries the bones on her bamboo tray
lowers it from time to time, then girls who carry pitchers
and brass vessels mournfully reverse them to show that
they are empty; thus the remains are taken to visit every
house in the village, and every dwelling of a friend or
relative for miles, and the inmates come out to mourn and
praise the goodness of the departed; the bones are carried
to all the dead man’s favourite haunts, to the fields he
cultivated, to the grove he planted, to the threshing-floor
where he worked, to the village dance-room where he made
merry. At last they are taken to the grave, and buried in
an earthen vase upon a store of food, covered with one of
those huge stone slabs which European visitors wonder
at in the districts of the aborigines in India. Besides these,
monumental stones are set up outside the village to the
memory of men of note; they are fixed on an earthen
plinth, where the ghost, resting in its walks among the
living, is supposed to sit shaded by the pillar. The
Kheriahs have collections of these monuments in the little
enclosures round their houses, and offerings and libations
are constantly made at them. With what feelings such rites
are celebrated may be judged from this Ho dirge:—

.pm verse-start
‘We never scolded you; never wronged you;
  Come to us back!
// File: 041.png
.pn +1
We ever loved and cherished you; and have lived long together
  Under the same roof;
  Desert it not now!
The rainy nights, and the cold blowing days, are coming on;
  Do not wander here!
Do not stand by the burnt ashes; come to us again!
You cannot find shelter under the peepul, when the rain comes down.
The saul will not shield you from the cold bitter wind.
  Come to your home!
It is swept for you, and clean; and we are there who loved you ever;
And there is rice put for you; and water;
  Come home, come home, come to us again!’
.pm verse-end

Among the Kol tribes this kindly hospitality to ancestral
souls passes on into the belief and ceremony of full manes-worship:
votive offerings are made to the ‘old folks’ when
their descendants go on a journey, and when there is sickness
in the family it is generally they who are first propitiated.[#]
Among Turanian races, the Chuwash put food
and napkins on the grave, saying, ‘Rise at night and eat
your fill, and there ye have napkins to wipe your mouths!’
while the Cheremiss simply said, ‘That is for you, ye dead,
there ye have food and drink!’ In this Tatar region we
hear of offerings continued year after year, and even of
messengers sent back by a horde to carry offerings to the
tombs of their forefathers in the old land whence they had
emigrated.[#]

Details of this ancient rite are to be traced from the level
of these rude races far upward in civilization. South-East
Asia is full of it, and the Chinese may stand as its representative.
He keeps his coffined parent for years, serving
him with meals as if alive. He summons ancestral souls
with prayer and beat of drum to feed on the meat and drink
set out on special days when they are thought to return
home. He even gives entertainments for the benefit of
// File: 042.png
.pn +1
destitute and unfortunate souls in the lower regions, such as
those of lepers and beggars. Lanterns are lighted to show
them the way, a feast is spread for them, and with characteristic
fancy, some victuals are left over for any blind or
feeble spirits who may be late, and a pail of gruel is provided
for headless souls, with spoons for them to put it down their
throats with. Such proceedings culminate in the so-called
Universal Rescue, now and then celebrated, when a little
house is built for the expected visitors, with separate accommodation
and bath-rooms for male and female ghosts.[#]
The ancient Egyptian would set out his provision of cakes
and trussed ducks on reed scaffolds in the tomb, or would
even keep the mummy in the house to be present as a guest
at the feast, <lang=grc>σύνδειπνον καὶ συμπότην ἐποιήσατο</lang>, as Lucian
says.[#] The Hindu, as of old, offers to the dead the funeral
cakes, places before the door the earthen vessels of water for
him to bathe in, of milk for him to drink, and celebrates at
new and full moon the solemn presentation of rice-cakes
made with ghee, with its attendant ceremonies so important
for the soul’s release from its twelvemonth’s sojourn
with Yama in Hades, and its transition to the Heaven of
the Pitaras, the Fathers.[#] In the classic world such rites
were represented by funeral feasts and oblations of food.[#]

In Christian times there manifests itself that interesting
kind of survival which, keeping up the old ceremony in
form, has adapted its motive to new thoughts and feelings.
The classic funeral oblations became Christian, the silicernium
was succeeded by the feast held at the martyr’s tomb.
Faustus inveighs against the Christians for carrying on the
ancient rites: ‘Their sacrifices indeed ye have turned into
love-feasts, their idols into martyrs whom with like vows ye
// File: 043.png
.pn +1
worship; ye appease the shades of the dead with wine and
meals, ye celebrate the Gentiles’ solemn days with them,
such as calends and solstices,—of their life certainly ye
have changed nought,’[#] and so forth. The story of Monica
shows how the custom of laying food on the tomb for the
manes passed into the ceremony, like to it in form, of setting
food and drink to be sanctified by the sepulchre of a
Christian saint. Saint-Foix, who wrote in the time of
Louis <abbr='the fourteenth'>XIV.</abbr>, has left us an account of the ceremonial after
the death of a King of France, during the forty days before
the funeral when his wax effigy lay in state. They continued
to serve him at meal-times as though still alive, the
officers laid the table, and brought the dishes, the maître
d’hôtel handed the napkin to the highest lord present to be
presented to the king, a prelate blessed the table, the basins
of water were handed to the royal arm-chair, the cup was
served in its due course, and grace was said in the accustomed
manner, save that there was added to it the De Profundis.[#]
Spaniards still offer bread and wine on the tombs
of those they love, on the anniversary of their decease.[#] The
conservative Eastern Church still holds to ancient rite. The
funeral feast is served in Russia, with its tables for the
beggars, laden with fish pasties and bowls of shchi and jugs
of kvas, its more delicate dinner for friends and priests, its
incense and chants of ‘everlasting remembrance’; and even
the repetition of the festival on the ninth, and twentieth,
and fortieth day are not forgotten. The offerings of saucers
of kutiya or kolyvo are still made in the church; this used
to be of parboiled wheat and was deposited over the body, it
is now made of boiled rice and raisins, sweetened with honey.
In their usual mystic fashion, the Orthodox Christians
now explain away into symbolism this remnant of primitive
offering to the dead: the honey is heavenly sweetness, the
// File: 044.png
.pn +1
shrivelled raisins will be full beauteous grapes, the grain
typifies the resurrection, ‘that which thou sowest is not
quickened except it die.’[#]

In the calendar of many a people, differing widely as they
may in race and civilization, there are to be found special
yearly festivals of the dead. Their rites are much the same
as those performed on other days for individuals; their
season differs in different districts, but seems to have particular
associations with harvest-time and the fall of the
year, and with the year’s end as reckoned at midwinter or
in early spring.[#] The Karens make their annual offerings
to the dead in the ‘month of shades,’ that is, December;[#]
the Kocch of North Bengal every year at harvest-home
offer fruits and a fowl to deceased parents;[#] the Barea of
East Africa celebrate in November the feast of Thiyot, at
once a feast of general peace and merry-making, of thanksgiving
for the harvest, and of memorial for the deceased,
for each of whom a little pot-full of beer is set out two days,
to be drunk at last by the survivors;[#] in West Africa we
hear of the feast of the dead at the time of yam-harvest;[#]
at the end of the year the Haitian negroes take food to the
graves for the shades to eat, ‘manger zombi,’ as they say.[#]
The Roman Feralia and Lemuralia were held in February
// File: 045.png
.pn +1
and May.[#] In the last five or ten days of their year the
Zoroastrians hold their feasts for departed relatives, when
souls come back to the world to visit the living, and receive
from them offerings of food and clothing.[#] The custom of
setting empty seats at the St. John’s Eve feast, for the
departed souls of kinsfolk, is said to have lasted on in
Europe to the seventeenth century. Spring is the season
of the time-honoured Slavonic rite of laying food on the
graves of the dead. The Bulgarians hold a feast in the
cemetery on Palm Sunday, and, after much eating and
drinking, leave the remains upon the graves of their friends,
who, they are persuaded, will eat them during the night.
In Russia such scenes may still be watched on the two
appointed days called Parents’ Days. The higher classes
have let the rite sink to prayer at the graves of lost relatives,
and giving alms to the beggars who flock to the
cemeteries. But the people still ‘howl’ for the dead, and
set out on their graves a handkerchief for a tablecloth, with
gingerbread, eggs, curd-tarts, and even vodka, on it; when
the weeping is over, they eat up the food, especially commemorating
the dead in Russian manner by partaking of
his favourite dainty, and if he were fond of a glass, the
vodka is sipped with the ejaculation, ‘The Kingdom of
Heaven be his! He loved a drink, the deceased!’[#] When
Odilo, Abbot of Cluny, at the end of the tenth century, instituted
the celebration of All Souls’ Day (November 2),[#]
// File: 046.png
.pn +1
he set on foot one of those revivals which have so often
given the past a new lease of life. The Western Church at
large took up the practice, and round it there naturally
gathered surviving remnants of the primitive rite of banquets
to the dead. The accusation against the early Christians,
that they appeased the shades of the dead with feasts
like the Gentiles, would not be beside the mark now, fifteen
hundred years later. On the eve of All Souls’ begins,
within the limits of Christendom, a commemoration of the
dead which combines some touches of pathetic imagination
with relics of savage animism scarcely to be surpassed in
Africa or the South Sea Islands. In Italy the day is given
to feasting and drinking in honour of the dead, while skulls
and skeletons in sugar and paste form appropriate children’s
toys. In Tyrol, the poor souls released from purgatory fire
for the night may come and smear their burns with the
melted fat of the ‘soul light’ on the hearth, or cakes are
left for them on the table, and the room is kept warm for
their comfort. Even in Paris the souls of the departed
come to partake of the food of the living. In Brittany the
crowd pours into the churchyard at evening, to kneel bareheaded
at the graves of dead kinsfolk, to fill the hollow of
the tombstone with holy water, or to pour libations of milk
upon it. All night the church bells clang, and sometimes
a solemn procession of the clergy goes round to bless the
graves. In no household that night is the cloth removed,
for the supper must be left for the souls to come and take
their part, nor must the fire be put out, where they will
come to warm themselves. And at last, as the inmates
retire to rest, there is heard at the door a doleful chant—it
is the souls, who, borrowing the voices of the parish poor,
have come to ask the prayers of the living.[#]

If we ask how the spirits of the dead are in general supposed
// File: 047.png
.pn +1
to feed on the viands set before them, we come upon
difficult questions, which will be met with again in discussing
the theory of sacrifice. Even where the thought is
certainly that the departed soul eats, this thought may be
very indefinite, with far less of practical intention in it than
of childish make-believe. Now and then, however, the
sacrificers themselves offer closer definitions of their meaning.
The idea of the ghost actually devouring the material
food is not unexampled. Thus, in North America, Algonquin
Indians considered that the shadow-like souls of the
dead can still eat and drink, often even telling Father Le
Jeune that they had found in the morning meat gnawed in
the night by the souls. More recently, we read that some
Potawatomis will leave off providing the supply of food at
the grave if it lies long untouched, it being concluded that
the dead no longer wants it, but has found a rich hunting-ground
in the other world.[#] In Africa, again, Father
Cavazzi records of the Congo people furnishing their dead
with supplies of provisions, that they could not be persuaded
that souls did not consume material food.[#] In Europe the
Esths, offering food for the dead on All Souls’, are said to
have rejoiced if they found in the morning that any of it
was gone.[#] A less gross conception is that the soul consumes
// File: 048.png
.pn +1
the steam or savour of the food, or its essence or
spirit. It is said to have been with such purpose that the
Maoris placed food by the dead man’s side, and some also
with him in the grave.[#] The idea is well displayed among
the natives in Mexican districts, where the souls who came
to the annual feast are described as hovering over and
smelling the food set out for them, or sucking out its
nutritive quality.[#] The Hindu entreats the manes to quaff
the sweet essence of the offered food; thinking on them, he
slowly sets the dish of rice before the Brahmans, and while
they silently eat the hot food, the ancestral spirits take
their part of the feast.[#] At the old Slavonic meals for the
dead, we read of the survivors sitting in silence and throwing
morsels under the table, fancying that they could hear
the spirits rustle, and see them feed on the smell and steam
of the viands. One account describes the mourners at the
funeral banquet inviting in the departed soul thought to be
standing outside the door, and every guest throwing morsels
and pouring drink under the table, for him to refresh himself.
What lay on the ground was not picked up, but was
left for friendless and kinless souls. When the meal was
over, the priest rose from table, swept out the house, and
hunted out the souls of the dead ‘like fleas,’ with these
words, ‘Ye have eaten and drunken, souls, now go, now
go!’[#] Many travellers have described the imagination
with which the Chinese make such offerings. It is that the
spirits of the dead consume the impalpable essence of the
food, leaving behind its coarse material substance, wherefore
the dutiful sacrificers, having set out sumptuous feasts
for ancestral souls, allow them a proper time to satisfy their
appetite, and then fall to themselves.[#] The Jesuit Father
Christoforo Borri suggestively translates the native idea
into his own scholastic phraseology. In Cochin China,
// File: 049.png
.pn +1
according to him, people believed ‘that the souls of the
dead have need of corporeal sustenance and maintenance,
wherefore several times a year, according to their custom,
they make splendid and sumptuous banquets, children to
their deceased parents, husbands to their wives, friends to
their friends, waiting a long while for the dead guest to
come and sit down at table to eat.’ The missionaries
argued against this proceeding, but were met by ridicule of
their ignorance, and the reply ‘that there were two things
in the food, one the substance, and the other the accidents
of quantity, quality, smell, taste, and the like. The immaterial
souls of the dead, taking for themselves the substance
of the food, which being immaterial is food suited to
the incorporeal soul, left only in the dishes the accidents
which corporeal senses perceive; for this the dead had no
need of corporeal instruments, as we have said.’ Thereupon
the Jesuit proceeds to remark, as to the prospect of
conversion of these people, ‘it may be judged from the
distinction they make between the accidents and the substance
of the food which they prepare for the dead,’ that it
will not be very difficult to prove to them the mystery of
the Eucharist.[#] Now to peoples among whom prevails the
rite of feasts of the dead, whether they offer the food in
mere symbolic pretence, or whether they consider the souls
really to feed on it in this spiritual way (as well as in the
cases inextricably mixed up with these, where the offering
is spiritually conveyed away to the world of spirits), it can
be of little consequence what becomes of the gross material
food. When the Kafir sorcerer, in cases of sickness, declares
that the shades of ancestors demand a particular cow,
the beast is slaughtered and left shut up for a time for the
shades to eat, or for its spirit to go to the land of shades,
and then is taken out to be eaten by the sacrificers.[#] So,
in more civilized Japan, when the survivors have placed
// File: 050.png
.pn +1
their offering of unboiled rice and water in a hollow made
for the purpose in a stone of the tomb, it seems to them
no matter that the poor or the birds really carry off the
grain.[#]

Such rites as these are especially exposed to dwindle in
survival. The offerings of meals and feasts to the dead
may be traced at their last stage into mere traditional
ceremonies, at most tokens of affectionate remembrance of
the dead, or works of charity to the living. The Roman
Feralia in Ovid’s time were a striking example of such
transition, for while the idea was recognized that the ghosts
fed upon the offerings, <lang=la>‘nunc posito pascitur umbra cibo,’</lang>
yet there were but <lang=la>‘parva munera,’</lang> fruits and grains of
salt, and corn soaked in wine, set out for their meal in the
middle of the road. ‘Little the manes ask, the pious
thought stands instead of the rich gift, for Styx holds no
greedy gods:’—

.pm verse-start
<lang=la>‘Parva petunt manes. Pietas pro divite grata est</lang>
  <lang=la>Munere. Non avidos Styx habet ima deos.</lang>
<lang=la>Tegula porrectis satis est velata coronis,</lang>
  <lang=la>Et sparsae fruges, parcaque mica salis,</lang>
<lang=la>Inque mero mollita ceres, violaeque solutae:</lang>
  <lang=la>Haec habeat media testa relicta via.</lang>
<lang=la>Nec majora veto. Sed et his placabilis umbra est.’</lang>[#]
.pm verse-end

Still farther back, in old Chinese history, Confucius had
been called on to give an opinion as to the sacrifices to the
dead. Maintainer of all ancient rites as he was, he stringently
kept up this, ‘he sacrificed to the dead as if they were
present,’ but when he was asked if the dead had knowledge
of what was done or no, he declined to answer the question;
for if he replied yes, then dutiful descendants would injure
their substance by sacrifices, and if no, then undutiful
children would leave their parents unburied. The evasion
was characteristic of the teacher who expressed his theory
of worship in this maxim, ‘to give oneself earnestly to the
// File: 051.png
.pn +1
duties due to men, and, while respecting spiritual beings,
to keep aloof from them, may be called wisdom.’ It is said
that in our own time the Taepings have made a step beyond
Confucius; they have forbidden the sacrifices to the spirits
of the dead, yet keep up the rite of visiting their tombs on
the customary day, for prayer and the renewal of vows.[#]
How funeral offerings may pass into commemorative banquets
and feasts to the poor, has been shown already. If
we seek in England for vestiges of the old rite of funeral
sacrifice, we may find a lingering survival into modern
centuries, doles of bread and drink given to the poor at
funerals, and ‘soul-mass cakes’ which peasant girls
perhaps to this day beg for at farmhouses with the
traditional formula,

.pm verse-start
‘Soul, soul, for a soul cake,
Pray you, mistress, a soul cake.’[#]
.pm verse-end

Were it not for our knowledge of the intermediate stages
through which these fragments of old custom have come
down, it would seem far-fetched indeed to trace their origin
back to the savage and barbaric times of the institution of
feasts of departed souls.

.fn #
Brebeuf in <lang=fr>‘Rel. des Jés. dans la Nouvelle France,’</lang> 1636, <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 130; Charlevoix,
<lang=fr>‘Nouvelle France,’</lang> <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=six>vi.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 75. See Brinton, <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 253.
.fn-
.fn #
Waitz, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=three>iii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 195, see <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 213. Morse, ‘Report on Indian Affairs,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 345.
.fn-
.fn #
Mayne, ‘British Columbia,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 181.
.fn-
.fn #
Cranz, ‘Grönland,’ <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 248, 258, see <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 212. See also Turner, ‘Polynesia,’
<abbr=page>p.</abbr> 353; Meiners, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 793.
.fn-
.fn #
Bastian, ‘Psychologie,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 28.
.fn-
.fn #
Bastian, <lang=de>‘Zur vergl. Psychologie,’</lang> in Lazarus and Steinthal’s <lang=de>‘Zeitschrift,’</lang>
<abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=five>v.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 160, &c., also Papuas and other races.
.fn-
.fn #
Burton, ‘<abbr rend=spell>W.</abbr> & <abbr rend=spell>W.</abbr> fr. <abbr=west>W.</abbr> <abbr=Africa>Afr.</abbr>’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 376.
.fn-
.fn #
Krapf, ‘<abbr='east africa'>E. Afr.</abbr>’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 201.
.fn-
.fn #
<abbr rend=spell>J. L.</abbr> Wilson, ‘<abbr='West Africa'>W. Afr.</abbr>’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 210; see also <abbr rend=spell>R.</abbr> Clarke, ‘Sierra Leone,’
<abbr=page>p.</abbr> 159.
.fn-
.fn #
Bastian, <abbr rend=spell>l. c.</abbr>
.fn-
.fn #
Macpherson, <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 72; also Tickell in ‘Journ. As. Soc. Bengal,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=nine>ix.</abbr>
<abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 793, &c.; Dalton in ‘Tr. Eth. Soc.’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=six>vi.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 22 (similar rite of Mundas
and Oraons).
.fn-
.fn #
Klemm, ‘<abbr rend=spell>C. G.</abbr>’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=three>iii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 77; <abbr rend=spell>K.</abbr> Leems, ‘Lapper,’ <abbr=chapter>c.</abbr> <abbr=fourteen>xiv.</abbr>
.fn-
.fn #
<abbr rend=spell>R.</abbr> Taylor, ‘New Zealand,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 284; see Shortland, ‘Traditions,’
<abbr=page>p.</abbr> 145; Turner, ‘Polynesia,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 353; Bastian, ‘Mensch,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 279;
see also <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 276 (Samoyeds). Compare Charlevoix, <lang=fr>‘Nouvelle France,’</lang>
<abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=five>v.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 426; Steller, ‘Kamtschatka,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 353; Kracheninnikow, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> 117.
See Plath, <lang=de>‘Rel. der alten Chinesen,’</lang> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 98.
.fn-
.fn #
Grey, ‘Australia,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 301, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 363 (native’s accusation against
some foreign sailors who had assaulted him, ‘<i>djanga</i> Taal-wurt kyle-gut
bomb-gur,’—‘one of the dead struck Taal-wurt under the ear,’ &c. The
word <i>djanga</i> = the dead, the spirits of deceased persons (see Grey, ‘Vocab. of
<abbr='South West'>S. W.</abbr> Australia’), had come to be the usual term for a European). Lang,
‘Queensland,’ <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 34, 336; Bonwick, ‘Tasmanians,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 183; Scherzer, ‘<abbr=Voyage>Voy.</abbr>
of Novara,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=three>iii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 34; Bastian, ‘Psychologie,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 222, ‘Mensch,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=three>iii.</abbr>
<abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 362-3, and in Lazarus and Steinthal’s <lang=de>‘Zeitschrift,’</lang> <abbr rend=spell>l. c.</abbr>; Turner, ‘Polynesia,’
<abbr=page>p.</abbr> 424.
.fn-
.fn #
Römer, ‘Guinea,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 85; Brun-Rollet, ‘Nil Blanc,’ &c. <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 234.
.fn-
.fn #
Sproat, ‘Savage Life,’ <abbr=chapter>ch.</abbr> <abbr=eighteen>xviii.</abbr>, <abbr=nineteen>xix.</abbr>, <abbr='twenty-one'>xxi.</abbr> Souls of the dead appear
in dreams, either in human or animal forms, <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 174. See also Brinton,
<abbr=page>p.</abbr> 145.
.fn-
.fn #
Schoolcraft, ‘Indian Tribes,’ part <abbr=three>iii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 113.
.fn-
.fn #
Hayes, ‘Arctic Boat Journey,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 198.
.fn-
.fn #
Brinton, ‘Myths of New World,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 102.
.fn-
.fn #
Brebeuf in ‘Rel. des Jés.’ 1636, <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 104.
.fn-
.fn #
Morgan, ‘Iroquois,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 174.
.fn-
.fn #
Clavigero, ‘Messico,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 5.
.fn-
.fn #
Martius, ‘Ethnog. Amer.’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 602; Markham in ‘Tr. Eth. Soc.’
<abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=three>iii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 195.
.fn-
.fn #
Dobrizhoffer, ‘Abipones,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 74, 270.
.fn-
.fn #
Coreal in Brinton, <abbr rend=spell>l. c.</abbr> See also <abbr rend=spell>J. G.</abbr> Müller, <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 139 (Natchez), 223
(Caribs), 402 (Peru).
.fn-
.fn #
Chomé in ‘Lettres Edif.’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=eight>viii.</abbr>; see also Martius, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 446.
.fn-
.fn #
Waitz, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 419 (Maravi).
.fn-
.fn #
Callaway, ‘Rel. of Amazulu,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 196, &c.; Arbousset and Daumas,
<abbr=page>p.</abbr> 237.
.fn-
.fn #
<abbr rend=spell>J. L.</abbr> Wilson, ‘<abbr=West>W.</abbr> <abbr=Africa>Afr.</abbr>’ <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 210, 218. See also Brun-Rollet, <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 200,
234; Meiners, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 211.
.fn-
.fn #
Steinhauser in ‘Mag. der Evang. Miss.’ Basel, 1856, <abbr=Number>No.</abbr> 2, <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 135.
.fn-
.fn #
Manu, <abbr=eleven>xi.</abbr> <abbr=twelve>xii.</abbr> Ward, ‘Hindoos,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 164, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 215, 347-52.
.fn-
.fn #
<abbr=Saint>St.</abbr> John, ‘Far East,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 181; Perelaer, ‘Ethnog. Beschr. der
Dajaks,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 17.
.fn-
.fn #
Hunter, ‘Rural Bengal,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 210. See also Shaw in ‘As. Res.’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=four>iv.</abbr>
<abbr=page>p.</abbr> 46 (Rajmahal tribes).
.fn-
.fn #
Abraham Roger, ‘La Porte Ouverte,’ Amst. 1670, <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 107.
.fn-
.fn #
Manu, <abbr=twelve>xii.</abbr> 9: <lang=sa>‘çarîrajaih karmmadoshaih yâti sthâvaratâm narah’</lang>—‘for
crimes done in the body, the man goes to the inert (motionless)
state;’ <abbr=twelve>xii.</abbr> 42, <lang=sa>‘sthâvarâh krimakîtâçcha matsyâh sarpâh sakachhapâh
paçavaçcha mrigaschaiva jaghanyâ tâmasî gatih’</lang>—‘inert (motionless)
things, worms and insects, fish, serpents, tortoises and beasts and deer
also are the last dark form.’
.fn-
.fn #
Köppen, ‘Religion des Buddha,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 35, 289, &c., 318; Barthélemy
Saint-Hilaire, <lang=fr>‘Le Bouddha et sa Religion,’</lang> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 122; Hardy, ‘Manual of
Budhism,’ <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 98, &c., 180, 318, 445, &c.
.fn-
.fn #
Herod. <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> 123, see Rawlinson’s <abbr=Translation>Tr.</abbr>; Plutarch. De Iside 31, 72; Wilkinson,
‘Ancient <abbr=Egypt>Eg.</abbr>’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=chapter>ch.</abbr> <abbr=sixteen>xvi.</abbr>
.fn-
.fn #
Plat. Phædo, Timæus, Phædrus, Repub.; Diog. Laert. Empedokles <abbr=twelve>xii.</abbr>;
Pindar. Olymp. <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> antistr. 4; Ovid. Metam. <abbr=fifteen>xv.</abbr> 160; Lucian. Somn. 17,
&c. Philostr. Vit. Apollon. Tyan. See also Meyer’s Conversations-Lexicon,
art. ‘Seelenwanderung.’ For re-birth in old Scandinavia, see Helgakvidha,
<abbr=three>iii.</abbr>, in ‘Edda.’
.fn-
.fn #
Eisenmenger, part <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 23, &c.
.fn-
.fn #
Beausobre, ‘Hist. de Manichée,’ &c., <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 245-6, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 496-9;
<abbr rend=spell>G.</abbr> Flügel, ‘Mani.’ See Augustin. Contra Faust.; De Hæres.; De
Quantitate Animæ.
.fn-
.fn #
Gul. de Rubruquis in ‘Rec. des Voy. Soc. de Géographie de Paris,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr>
<abbr=four>iv.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 356. Benjamin of Tudela, <abbr=edited>ed.</abbr> and <abbr=translated>tr.</abbr> by Asher, Hebrew 22, <abbr=English>Eng.</abbr>
<abbr=page>p.</abbr> 62. Niebuhr, ‘Reisebeschr. nach Arabien,’ &c., <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 438-443;
Meiners, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 796.
.fn-
.fn #
<abbr=Saint>St.</abbr> Clair and Brophy, ‘Bulgaria,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 57. Compare the tenets of the
Russian sect of Dukhobortzi, in Haxthausen, ‘Russian Empire,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr>
<abbr=page>p.</abbr> 288, &c.
.fn-
.fn #
Since the first publication of the above remark, <abbr rend=spell>M.</abbr> Louis Figuier has
supplied a perfect modern instance by his book, entitled <lang=fr>‘Le Lendemain
de la Mort,’</lang> translated into English as ‘The Day after Death: Our Future
Life according to Science.’ His attempt to revive the ancient belief, and
to connect it with the evolution-theory of modern naturalists, is carried
out with more than Buddhist elaborateness. Body is the habitat of soul,
which goes out when a man dies, as one forsakes a burning house. In the
course of development, a soul may migrate through bodies stage after
stage, zoophyte and oyster, grasshopper and eagle, crocodile and dog, till
it arrives at man, thence ascending to become one of the superhuman
beings or angels who dwell in the planetary ether, and thence to a still
higher state, the secret of whose nature <abbr rend=spell>M.</abbr> Figuier does not endeavour to
penetrate, ‘because our means of investigation fail at this point.’ The
ultimate destiny of the more glorified being is the Sun; the pure spirits
who form its mass of burning gases, pour out germs and life to start the
course of planetary existence. (Note to <abbr=second>2nd</abbr> edition.)
.fn-
.fn #
Swedenborg, ‘The True Christian Religion,’ 13. Compare the notion
attributed to the followers of Basilides the Gnostic, of men whose souls are
affected by spirits or dispositions as of wolf, ape, lion, or bear, wherefore
their souls bear the properties of these, and imitate their deeds (Clem.
Alex. Stromat. <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=chapter>c.</abbr> 20).
.fn-
.fn #
See <abbr rend=spell>J. G.</abbr> Müller, ‘Amer. Urrel.’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 208 (Caribs); but compare Rochefort,
<abbr=page>p.</abbr> 429. Steller, ‘Kamtschatka,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 269, Castrén, ‘Finnische Mythologie,’
<abbr=page>p.</abbr> 119.
.fn-
.fn #
For Egyptian evidence see the funeral papyri and translations of
the ‘Book of the Dead.’ Compare Brinton, ‘Myths of New World,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 254,
&c.
.fn-
.fn #
Aryan evidence in ‘Rig-Veda,’ <abbr=ten>x.</abbr> 14, 8; <abbr=eleven>xi.</abbr> 1, 8; Manu, <abbr=twelve>xii.</abbr> 16-22;
Max Müller, <lang=de>‘Todtenbestattung,’</lang> <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> <abbr=twelve>xii.</abbr> <abbr=fourteen>xiv.</abbr>; ‘Chips,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 47; Muir
in ‘Journ. As. Soc. Bengal,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 1865, <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 306; Spiegel, ‘Avesta’; Haug,
‘Essays on the Parsis.’
.fn-
.fn #
Origen, De Princip. <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> 3, 2: <lang=la>‘materiæ corporalis, cujus materiæ anima
usum semper habet, in qualibet qualitate positæ, nunc quidem carnali,
postmodum vero subtiliori et puriori, quæ spiritalis appellatur.’</lang>
.fn-
.fn #
Burton, ‘Central Africa,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 345.
.fn-
.fn #
Callaway, ‘Rel. of Amazulu,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 84.
.fn-
.fn #
Kaufmann, <lang=de>‘Schilderungen aus Centralafrika,’</lang> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 124; <abbr rend=spell>G.</abbr> Lejean in
<lang=fr>‘Rev. des Deux Mondes,’</lang> <abbr=April>Apr.</abbr> 1, 1860, <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 760; see Brun-Rollet, ‘Nil Blanc,’
<abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 100, 234. A dialogue by the missionary Beltrame (1859-60), in
Mitterutzner, <lang=de>‘Dinka-Sprache,’</lang> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 57, ascribes to the Dinkas ideas of heaven
and hell, which, however, show Christian influence.
.fn-
.fn #
Mariner, ‘Tonga Is.’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 136; John Smith, ‘Descr. of Virginia,’
33; Oviedo, ‘Nicaragua,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 50. The reference to the Laos in Meiners,
<abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 760, is worthless.
.fn-
.fn #
Cranz, ‘Grönland,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 259.
.fn-
.fn #
Williams, ‘Fiji,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 244. See ‘Journ. Ind. Archip.’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=three>iii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 113
(Dayaks). Compare wasting and death of souls in depths of Hades, Taylor,
‘New Zealand,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 232.
.fn-
.fn #
Bosman, ‘Guinea’ in Pinkerton, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=sixteen>xvi.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 401. See also Waitz,
‘Anthropologie,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 191 (<abbr=West>W.</abbr> <abbr=Africa>Afr.</abbr>); Callaway, ‘Rel. of Amazulu,’
<abbr=page>p.</abbr> 355.
.fn-
.fn #
Cavazzi, ‘Congo, Matamba, et Angola,’ <abbr=liber>lib.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 270. See also Liebrecht
in <lang=de>‘Zeitschr. für Ethnologie,’</lang> <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=five>v.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 96 (Tartary, Scandinavia, Greece).
.fn-
.fn #
Schoolcraft, ‘Indian Tribes,’ part <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 310; Bastian, ‘Psychologie,’
<abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 111, 193; Doolittle, ‘Chinese,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 235.
.fn-
.fn #
Bastian, ‘Mensch,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 323.
.fn-
.fn #
Kolben, <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 579.
.fn-
.fn #
Billings, <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 125.
.fn-
.fn #
Bastian, ‘Oestl. Asien.’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 145; Cross, <abbr rend=spell>l.c.</abbr>, <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 311. For other
cases of desertion of dwellings after a death, possibly for the same motive, see
Bourien, ‘Tribes of Malay Pen.’ in ‘Tr. Eth. Soc.’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=three>iii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 82; Polack,
‘<abbr rend=spell>M.</abbr> of New Zealanders,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 204, 216; Steiler, ‘Kamtschatka,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 271.
But the Todas say that the buffaloes slaughtered and the hut burnt at the
funeral are transferred to the spirit of the deceased in the next world;
Shortt in ‘Tr. Eth. Soc.’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> vii. <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 247. See Waitz, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=three>iii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 199.
.fn-
.fn #
Egede, ‘Greenland,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 152; Cranz, <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 300.
.fn-
.fn #
Bastian, ‘Mensch,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 323; see <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 329, 363.
.fn-
.fn #
Bowring, ‘Siam,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 122; Bastian, ‘Oestl. Asien.’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=three>iii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 258.
.fn-
.fn #
Castrén, ‘Finn. Myth.’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 120.
.fn-
.fn #
Wuttke, <lang=de>‘Volksaberglaube,’</lang> <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 213-17. Other cases of taking out the
dead by a gap made on purpose: Arbousset and Daumas, <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 502 (Bushmen);
Magyar, <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 351 (Kimbunda); Moffat, <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 307 (Bechuanas); Waitz, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=three>iii.</abbr>
<abbr=page>p.</abbr> 199 (Ojibwas);—their motive is probably that the ghost may not find its
way back by the door.
.fn-
.fn #
Oldfield in ‘Tr. Eth. Soc.’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=three>iii.</abbr> <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 228, 236, 245.
.fn-
.fn #
Taylor, ‘New Zealand,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 221; Schirren, <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 91; see Turner, ‘Polynesia,’
<abbr=page>p.</abbr> 233.
.fn-
.fn #
Morgan, ‘League of Iroquois,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 174.
.fn-
.fn #
<abbr rend=spell>J. G.</abbr> Müller, <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 286.
.fn-
.fn #
Castrén, ‘Finn. Myth.’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 126.
.fn-
.fn #
Cross in ‘Journ. Amer. Or. Soc.’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=four>iv.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 309; Mason in ‘Journ. As.
Soc. Bengal,’ 1865, part <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 203. See also <abbr rend=spell>J.</abbr> Anderson, ‘Exp. to <abbr rend=spell>W.</abbr>
Yunnan,’ <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 126, 131 (Shans).
.fn-
.fn #
Bastian, ‘Psychologie,’ <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 51, 99-101.
.fn-
.fn #
Lucian. De Luctu. See Pauly, ‘Real. Encyclop.’ and Smith, ‘<abbr=Dictionary>Dic.</abbr> of
<abbr=Greek>Gr.</abbr> and <abbr=Roman>Rom.</abbr> <abbr=Antiquity>Ant.</abbr>’ <abbr rend=spell>s.v.</abbr> ‘inferi.’
.fn-
.fn #
Hanusch, ‘Slaw. Myth.’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 277.
.fn-
.fn #
Calmet, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=chapter>ch.</abbr> <abbr='thirty-six'>xxxvi.</abbr>; Brand, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=three>iii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 67.
.fn-
.fn #
Charlevoix, <lang=fr>‘Nouvelle France,’</lang> <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=six>vi.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 75; Schoolcraft, ‘Indian
Tribes,’ part <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 39, 83; part <abbr=four>iv.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 65; Tanner’s ‘Narr.’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 293.
.fn-
.fn #
Brebeuf in ‘Rel. des Jés.’ 1636, <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 104.
.fn-
.fn #
Ellis, ‘Madagascar,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 253, 364. See Taylor, ‘New Zealand,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 220.
.fn-
.fn #
Krapf, ‘<abbr=East>E.</abbr> <abbr=Africa>Afr.</abbr>’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 150.
.fn-
.fn #
<abbr rend=spell>T. J.</abbr> Hutchinson, <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 206.
.fn-
.fn #
Cavazzi, ‘Congo, &c.’ <abbr=liber>lib.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 264. So in ancient Greece, Lucian.
Charon, 22.
.fn-
.fn #
Hodgson, ‘Abor. of India,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 180.
.fn-
.fn #
‘Journ. Ind. Archip.’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 235.
.fn-
.fn #
Tickell in ‘Journ. As. Soc. Bengal,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=nine>ix.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 795; Dalton, ibid. 1866,
part <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 153, &c.; and in ‘Tr. Eth. Soc.’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=six>vi.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 1, &c.; Latham,
‘Descr. Eth.’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 415, &c.
.fn-
.fn #
Bastian, ‘Psychologie,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 62; Castrén, ‘Finn. Myth.’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 121.
.fn-
.fn #
Doolittle, ‘Chinese,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 173, &c.; <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 91, &c.; Meiners,
<abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 306.
.fn-
.fn #
Wilkinson, ‘Ancient <abbr=Egypt>Eg.</abbr>’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 362; Lucian. De Luctu, 21.
.fn-
.fn #
Manu, <abbr=three>iii.</abbr>; Colebrooke, ‘Essays,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 161, &c.; Pictet, ‘Origines
Indo-Europ.’ part <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 600; Ward, ‘Hindoos,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 332.
.fn-
.fn #
Pauly, ‘Real-Encyclop.’ <abbr rend=spell>s.v.</abbr> ‘funus.’; Smith’s ‘<abbr=Dictionary>Dic.</abbr>’ <abbr rend=spell>s.v.</abbr> ‘funus.’ See
Meiners, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 305-19.
.fn-
.fn #
Augustin. contra Faustum, <abbr=twenty>xx.</abbr> 4; De Civ. Dei, <abbr=eight>viii.</abbr> 27; conf. <abbr=six>vi.</abbr> 2.
See Beausobre, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 633, 685; Bingham, <abbr=twenty>xx.</abbr> <abbr=chapter>c.</abbr> 7.
.fn-
.fn #
Saint-Foix, <lang=fr>‘Essais Historiques sur Paris,’</lang> in <lang=fr>‘Œuvres,’</lang> <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=four>iv.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 147,
&c.
.fn-
.fn #
Lady Herbert, ‘Impressions of Spain,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 8.
.fn-
.fn #
<abbr rend=spell>H. C.</abbr> Romanoff, ‘Rites and Customs of Greco-Russian Church,’
<abbr=page>p.</abbr> 249; Ralston, ‘Songs of the Russian People,’ <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 135, 320; <abbr=Saint>St.</abbr> Clair and
Brophy, ‘Bulgaria,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 77; Brand, ‘Pop. Ant.’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 115.
.fn-
.fn #
Beside the accounts of annual festivals of the dead cited here, see the following:—Santos,
‘Ethiopia,’ in Pinkerton, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=sixteen>xvi.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 685 (<abbr=September>Sept.</abbr>); Brasseur,
‘Mexique,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=three>iii.</abbr> <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 23, 522, 528 (<abbr=August>Aug.</abbr>, <abbr=October>Oct.</abbr>, <abbr=November>Nov.</abbr>); Rivero and Tschudi,
‘Peru,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 134 (Peruvian feast dated as <abbr=November>Nov.</abbr> 2 in coincidence with All Souls’,
but this reckoning is vitiated by confusion of seasons of <abbr=North>N.</abbr> and <abbr=South>S.</abbr> hemisphere,
see <abbr rend=spell>J. G.</abbr> Müller, <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 389; moreover, the Peruvian feast may have been originally
held at a different date, and transferred, as happened elsewhere, to the
‘Spanish All Souls’); Doolittle, ‘Chinese,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 44, 62 (esp. <abbr=April>Apr.</abbr>);
Caron, ‘Japan,’ in Pinkerton, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=seven>vii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 629 (<abbr=August>Aug.</abbr>).
.fn-
.fn #
Mason, ‘Karens,’ <abbr rend=spell>l. c.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 238.
.fn-
.fn #
Hodgson, ‘Abor. of India,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 147.
.fn-
.fn #
Munzinger, ‘Ostafr. Stud.’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 473.
.fn-
.fn #
Waitz, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 194.
.fn-
.fn #
<abbr rend=spell>G.</abbr> D’Alaux in <lang=fr>‘Rev. des Deux Mondes,’</lang> May 15, 1852, <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 76.
.fn-
.fn #
Ovid. Fast. <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> 533; <abbr=five>v.</abbr> 420.
.fn-
.fn #
Spiegel, ‘Avesta,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> <abbr='a hundred and one'>ci.</abbr>; Alger, <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 137.
.fn-
.fn #
Hanusch, ‘Slaw. Myth.’ <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 374, 408; <abbr=Saint>St.</abbr> Clair and Brophy, ‘Bulgaria,’
<abbr=page>p.</abbr> 77; Romanoff, ‘Greco-Roman Church,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 255.
.fn-
.fn #
Petrus Damianus, <lang=la>‘Vita S. Odilonis,’</lang> in the Bollandist <lang=la>‘Acta Sanctorum,’</lang>
<abbr=January>Jan.</abbr> 1, has the quaint legend attached to the new ordinance. An island
hermit dwelt near a volcano, where souls of the wicked were tormented in
the flames. The holy man heard the officiating demons lament that their
daily task of new torture was interfered with by the prayers and alms of
devout persons leagued against them to save souls, and especially they
complained of the Monks of Cluny. Thereupon the hermit sent a message
to Abbot Odilo, who carried out the work to the efficacy of which he had
received such perfect spiritual testimony, by decreeing that November 2, the
day after All Saints’, should be set apart for services for the departed.
.fn-
.fn #
Bastian, ‘Mensch,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 336. Meiners, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 316; <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 290.
Wuttke, <lang=de>‘Deutsche Volksaberglaube,’</lang> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 216. Cortet, ‘Fêtes Religieuses,’
<abbr=page>p.</abbr> 233; ‘Westminster Rev.’ <abbr=January>Jan.</abbr> 1860; Hersart de la Villemarqué, <lang=fr>‘Chants
de la Bretagne,’</lang> <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 307.
.fn-
.fn #
Le Jeune in <lang=fr>‘Rel. des Jés.’</lang> 1634, <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 16; Waitz, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=three>iii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 195.
.fn-
.fn #
Cavazzi, ‘Congo,’ &c., book <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 265.
.fn-
.fn #
Grimm, ‘<abbr rend=spell>D. M.</abbr>’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 865, but not so in the account of the Feast of the
Dead in Boecler, <lang=de>‘Ehsten Abergl. Gebr.’</lang> (<abbr=editor>ed.</abbr> Kreutzwald), <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 89. Compare
Martius, ‘Ethnog. Amer.’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 345 (Gês). The following passage from a
spiritualist journal, ‘The Medium,’ <abbr=February>Feb.</abbr> 9, 1872, shows this primitive notion
curiously surviving in modern England. ‘Every time we sat at dinner, we
had not only spirit-voices calling to us, but spirit-hands touching us; and
last evening, as it was his farewell, they gave us a special manifestation, unasked
for and unlooked for. He sitting at the right hand of me, a vacant
chair opposite to him began moving, and, in answer to whether it would have
some dinner, said “Yes.” I then asked it to select what it would take, when
it chose <lang=fr><i>croquets des pommes de terre</i></lang> (a French way of dressing potatoes, about
three inches long and two wide. I will send you one that you may see it).
I was desired to put this on the chair, either in a tablespoon or on a plate.
I placed it in a tablespoon, thinking that probably the plate might be broken.
In a few seconds I was told that it was eaten, and looking, found the half
of it gone, with the marks showing the teeth.’ (Note to <abbr=second>2nd</abbr> <abbr=edition>ed.</abbr>)
.fn-
.fn #
Taylor, ‘New Zealand,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 220, see 104.
.fn-
.fn #
Brasseur, ‘Mexique,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=three>iii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 24.
.fn-
.fn #
Colebrooke, ‘Essays,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 163, &c.; Manu. <abbr=three>iii.</abbr>
.fn-
.fn #
Hanusch, ‘Slaw. Myth.’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 408; Hartknoch, ‘Preussen,’ part <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 187.
.fn-
.fn #
Doolittle, ‘Chinese,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 33, 48; Meiners, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 318.
.fn-
.fn #
Borri, <lang=it>‘Relatione della Nuova Missione della Comp. di Giesu,’</lang> Rome,
1631, <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 208; and in Pinkerton, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=nine>ix.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 822, &c.
.fn-
.fn #
Grout, ‘Zulu Land,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 140; see Callaway, ‘Rel. of Amazulu,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 11.
.fn-
.fn #
Caron, ‘Japan,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=seven>vii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 629; see Turpin, ‘Siam,’ ibid. <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=nine>ix.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 590.
.fn-
.fn #
Ovid. Fast. <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> 533.
.fn-
.fn #
Legge, ‘Confucius,’ <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 101-2, 130; Bunsen, ‘God in History,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 271.
.fn-
.fn #
Brand, ‘Pop. Ant.’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 392, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 289.
.fn-
// File: 052.png
.pn +1
.sp 4
.h2 id=chap13
CHAPTER <abbr=thirteen>XIII.</abbr> | ANIMISM (<i>continued</i>).
.pm letter-start
Journey of the Soul to the Land of the Dead—Visits by the Living to the
Regions of Departed Souls—Connexion of such legends with myths of
Sunset: the Land of the Dead thus imagined as in the West—Realization
of current religious ideas, whether of savage or civilized theology,
in narratives of visits to the Regions of Souls—Localization of the Future
Life—Distant earthly region: Earthly Paradise, Isles of the Blest—Subterranean
Hades or Sheol—Sun, Moon, Stars—Heaven—Historical
course of belief as to such localization—Nature of Future Life—Continuance-theory,
apparently original, belongs especially to the lower
races—Transitional theories—Retribution-theory, apparently derived,
belongs especially to the higher races—Doctrine of Moral Retribution
as developed in the higher culture—Survey of Doctrine of Future
State, from savage to civilized stages—Its practical effect on the sentiment
and conduct of Mankind.
.pm letter-end
.sp 2
The departure of the dead man’s soul from the world of
living men, its journey to the distant land of spirits, the life
it will lead in its new home, are topics on which the lower
races for the most part hold explicit doctrines. When
these fall under the inspection of a modern ethnographer,
he treats them as myths; often to a high degree intelligible
and rational in their origin, consistent and regular in their
structure, but not the less myths. Few subjects have
aroused the savage poet’s mind to such bold and vivid
imagery as the thought of the hereafter. Yet also a survey
of its details among mankind displays in the midst of
variety a regular recurrence of episode which brings the
ever-recurring question, how far is this correspondence due
to transmission of the same thought from tribe to tribe,
and how far to similar but independent development in
distant lands?

From the savage state up into the midst of civilization,
// File: 053.png
.pn +1
the comparison may be carried through. Low races and
high, in region after region, can point out the very spot
whence the flitting souls start to travel toward their new
home. At the extreme western cape of Vanua Levu, a calm
and solemn place of cliff and forest, the souls of the Fijian
dead embark for the judgement-seat of Ndengei, and thither
the living come in pilgrimage, thinking to see their ghosts
and gods.[#] The Baperi of South Africa will venture to
creep a little way into their cavern of Marimatlé, whence
men and animals came forth into the world, and whither
souls return at death.[#] In Mexico the cavern of Chalchatongo
led to the plains of paradise, and the Aztec name of
Mictlan, ‘Land of the Dead,’ now Mitla, keeps up the
remembrance of another subterranean temple which opened
the way to the sojourn of the blessed.[#] How naturally a
dreary place, fit rather for the dead than the living, suggests
the thought of an entrance to the land of the departed,
is seen in the fictitious travels known under the name of
Sir John Mandevill, where the description of the Vale Perilous,
adapted from the terrible valley which Friar Odoric
had seen full of corpses and heard resound with strange
noise of drums, has this appropriate ending: ‘This vale es
full of deuilles and all way has bene; and men saise in that
cuntree that thare es ane entree to hell.’[#] In more genuine
folklore, North German peasants still remember on the
banks of the swampy Drömling the place of access to the
land of departed souls.[#] To us Englishmen the shores of
lake Avernus, trodden daily by our tourists, are more
familiar than the Irish analogue of the place, Lough Derg,
with its cavern entrance of <abbr=Saint>St.</abbr> Patrick’s Purgatory leading
down to the awful world below. The mass of mystic details
// File: 054.png
.pn +1
need not be repeated here of the soul’s dread journey by
caverns and rocky paths and weary plains, over steep and
slippery mountains, by frail bark or giddy bridge across
gulfs or rushing rivers, abiding the fierce onset of the soul-destroyer
or the doom of the stern guardian of the other
world. But before describing the spirit-world which is the
end of the soul’s journey, let us see what the proof is which
sustains the belief in both. The lower races claim to hold
their doctrines of the future life on strong tradition, direct
revelation, and even personal experience. To them the
land of souls is a discovered country, from whose bourne
many a traveller returns.

Among the legendary visits to the world beyond the
grave, there are some that seem pure myth, without a touch
of real personal history. Ojibwa, the eponymic hero of his
North American tribe, as one of his many exploits descended
to the subterranean world of departed spirits, and came up
again to earth.[#] When the Kamchadals were asked how
they knew so well what happens to men after death, they
could answer with their legend of Haetsh the first man.
He died and went down into the world below, and a long
while after came up again to his former dwelling, and there,
standing above by the smoke-hole, he talked down to his
kindred in the house and told them about the life to come;
it was then that his two daughters whom he had left below
followed him in anger and smote him so that he died a
second time, and now he is chief in the lower world, and
receives the Italmen when they die and rise anew.[#] Thus,
again, in the great Finnish epic, the Kalewala, one great
episode is Wainamoinen’s visit to the land of the dead.
Seeking the last charm-words to build his boat, the hero
travelled with quick steps week after week through bush
and wood till he came to the Tuonela river, and saw before
him the island of Tuoni the god of death. Loudly he called
to Tuoni’s daughter to bring the ferry-boat across:—
// File: 055.png
.pn +1

.pm verse-start
‘She, the virgin of Manala,
She, the washer of the clothing,
She, the wringer of the linen,
By the river of Tuonela,
In the under-world Manala,
Spake in words, and this their meaning,
This their answer to the hearer:—
“Forth the boat shall come from hither,
When the reason thou hast given
That hath brought thee to Manala,
Neither slain by any sickness,
Nor by Death dragged from the living,
Nor destroyed by other ending.”’
.pm verse-end

Wainamoinen replies with lying reasons. Iron brought him,
he says, but Tuoni’s daughter answers that no blood drips
from his garment; Fire brought him, he says, but she
answers that his locks are unsinged, and at last he tells his
real mission. Then she ferries him over, and Tuonetar the
hostess brings him beer in the two-eared jug, but Wainamoinen
can see the frogs and worms within and will not
drink, for it was not to drain Manala’s beer-jug he had
come. He lay in the bed of Tuoni, and meanwhile they
spread the hundred nets of iron and copper across the river
that he might not escape; but he turned into a reed in the
swamp, and as a snake crept through the meshes:—

.pm verse-start
‘Tuoni’s son with hooked fingers
Iron-pointed hooked fingers
Went to draw his nets at morning—
Salmon-trout he found a hundred,
Thousands of the little fishes,
But he found no Wainamoinen,
Not the old friend of the billows.
Then the ancient Wainamoinen,
Come from out of Tuoni’s kingdom,
Spake in words, and this their meaning,
This their answer to the hearer:—
“Never mayst thou, God of goodness,
Never suffer such another
Who of self-will goes to Mana,
Thrusts his way to Tuoni’s kingdom.
// File: 056.png
.pn +1
Many they who travel thither,
Few who thence have found the home-way,
From the houses of Tuoni
From the dwellings of Manala.”’[#]
.pm verse-end

It is enough to name the familiar classic analogues of these
mythic visits to Hades,—the descent of Dionysos to bring
back Semele, of Orpheus to bring back his beloved Eurydike,
of Herakles to fetch up the three-headed Kerberos at
the command of his master Eurystheus; above all, the
voyage of Odysseus to the ends of the deep-flowing Ocean,
to the clouded city of Kimmerian men, where shining Helios
looks not down with his rays, and deadly night stretches
always over wretched mortals,—thence they passed along
the banks to the entrance of the land where the shades of
the departed, quickened for a while by the taste of sacrificial
blood, talked with the hero and showed him the
regions of their dismal home.[#]

The scene of the descent into Hades is in very deed
enacted day by day before our eyes, as it was before the eyes
of the ancient myth-maker, who watched the sun descend to
the dark under-world, and return at dawn to the land of
living men. These heroic legends lie in close-knit connexion
with episodes of solar myth. It is by the simplest
poetic adaptation of the Sun’s daily life, typifying Man’s
life in dawning beauty, in mid-day glory, in evening death,
that mythic fancy even fixed the belief in the religions of
the world, that the Land of Departed Souls lies in the Far
West or the World Below. How deeply the myth of the
Sunset has entered into the doctrine of men concerning a
Future State, how the West and the Under-World have
become by mere imaginative analogy Regions of the Dead,
how the quaint day-dreams of savage poets may pass into
// File: 057.png
.pn +1
honoured dogmas of classic sages and modern divines,—all
this the crowd of details here cited from the wide range of
culture stand to prove.

Moreover, visits from or to the dead are matters of personal
experience and personal testimony. When in dream
or vision the seer beholds the spirits of the departed, they
give him tidings from the other world, or he may even rise
and travel thither himself, and return to tell the living what
he has seen among the dead. It is sometimes as if the
traveller’s material body went to visit a distant land, and
sometimes all we are told is that the man’s self went, but
whether in body or in spirit is a mere detail of which the
story keeps no record. Mostly, however, it is the seer’s
soul which goes forth, leaving his body behind in ecstasy,
sleep, coma, or death. Some of these stories, as we trace
them on from savage into civilized times, are no doubt given
in good faith by the visionary himself, while others are
imitations of these genuine accounts.[#] Now such visions
are naturally apt to reproduce the thoughts with which the
seer’s mind was already furnished. Every idea once lodged
in the mind of a savage, a barbarian, or an enthusiast, is
ready thus to be brought back to him from without. It is
a vicious circle; what he believes he therefore sees, and
what he sees he therefore believes. Beholding the reflexion
of his own mind like a child looking at itself in a glass, he
humbly receives the teaching of his second self. The Red
Indian visits his happy hunting-grounds, the Tongan his
shadowy island of Bolotu, the Greek enters Hades and looks
on the Elysian Fields, the Christian beholds the heights of
Heaven and the depths of Hell.

Among the North American Indians, and especially the
Algonquin tribes, accounts are not unusual of men whose
spirits, travelling in dreams or in the hallucinations of
extreme illness to the land of the dead, have returned to
reanimate their bodies, and tell what they have seen.
// File: 058.png
.pn +1
Their experiences have been in great measure what they
were taught in early childhood to expect, the journey along
the path of the dead, the monstrous strawberry at which
the jebi-ug or ghosts refresh themselves, but which turns
to red rock at the touch of their spoons, the bark offered
them for dried meat and great puff-balls for squashes, the
river of the dead with its snake-bridge or swinging log, the
great dog standing on the other side, the villages of the
dead beyond.[#] The Zulus of our own day tell of men who
have gone down by holes in the ground into the underworld,
where mountains and rivers and all things are as
here above, and where a man may find his kindred, for the
dead live in their villages, and may be seen milking their
cattle, which are the cattle killed on earth and come to life
anew. The Zulu Umpengula, who told one of these stories
to Dr. Callaway, remembered when he was a boy seeing an
ugly little hairy man called Uncama, who once, chasing a
porcupine that ate his mealies, followed it down a hole in
the ground into the land of the dead. When he came back
to his home on earth he found that he had been given up
for dead himself, his wife had duly burnt and buried his
mats and blankets and vessels, and the wondering people at
sight of him again shouted the funeral dirge. Of this Zulu
Dante it used to be continually said, ‘There is the man
who went to the underground people.’[#] One of the most
characteristic of these savage narratives is from New Zealand.
This story, which has an especial interest from the
reminiscence it contains of the gigantic extinct Moa, and
which may be repeated at some length as an illustration of
the minute detail and lifelike reality which such visionary
legends assume in barbaric life, was told to Mr. Shortland
by a servant of his named Te Wharewera. An aunt of this
// File: 059.png
.pn +1
man died in a solitary hut near the banks of Lake Rotorua.
Being a lady of rank she was left in her hut, the door and
windows were made fast, and the dwelling was abandoned,
as her death had made it tapu. But a day or two after, Te
Wharewera with some others paddling in a canoe near the
place at early morning saw a figure on the shore beckoning
to them. It was the aunt come to life again, but weak and
cold and famished. When sufficiently restored by their
timely help, she told her story. Leaving her body, her
spirit had taken flight toward the North Cape, and arrived
at the entrance of Reigna. There, holding on by the stem
of the creeping akeake-plant, she descended the precipice,
and found herself on the sandy beach of a river. Looking
round, she espied in the distance an enormous bird, taller
than a man, coming towards her with rapid strides. This
terrible object so frightened her, that her first thought was
to try to return up the steep cliff; but seeing an old man
paddling a small canoe towards her she ran to meet him,
and so escaped the bird. When she had been safely ferried
across she asked the old Charon, mentioning the name of
her family, where the spirits of her kindred dwelt. Following
the path the old man pointed out, she was surprised to
find it just such a path as she had been used to on earth;
the aspect of the country, the trees, shrubs, and plants were
all familiar to her. She reached the village and among the
crowd assembled there she found her father and many near
relations; they saluted her, and welcomed her with the
wailing chant which Maoris always address to people met
after long absence. But when her father had asked about
his living relatives, and especially about her own child, he
told her she must go back to earth, for no one was left to
take care of his grandchild. By his orders she refused to
touch the food that the dead people offered her, and in
spite of their efforts to detain her, her father got her safely
into the canoe, crossed with her, and parting gave her from
under his cloak two enormous sweet potatoes to plant at
home for his grandchild’s especial eating. But as she began
// File: 060.png
.pn +1
to climb the precipice again, two pursuing infant spirits
pulled her back, and she only escaped by flinging the roots
at them, which they stopped to eat, while she scaled the
rock by help of the akeake-stem, till she reached the earth
and flew back to where she had left her body. On returning
to life she found herself in darkness, and what had
passed seemed as a dream, till she perceived that she was
deserted and the door fast, and concluded that she had
really died and come to life again. When morning dawned,
a faint light entered by the crevices of the shut-up house,
and she saw on the floor near her a calabash partly full of
red ochre mixed with water; this she eagerly drained to
the dregs, and then feeling a little stronger, succeeded in
opening the door and crawling down to the beach, where
her friends soon after found her. Those who listened to
her tale firmly believed the reality of her adventures, but it
was much regretted that she had not brought back at least
one of the huge sweet-potatoes, as evidence of her visit to
the land of spirits.[#] Races of North Asia[#] and West Africa[#]
have in like manner their explorers of the world beyond
the grave.

Classic literature continues the series. Lucian’s graphic
// File: 061.png
.pn +1
tales represent the belief of their age, if not of their author.
His Eukrates looks down the chasm into Hades, and sees
the dead reclining on the asphodel in companies of kinsfolk
and friends; among them he recognizes Sokrates with his
bald head and pot-belly, and also his own father, dressed in
the clothes he was buried in. Then Kleodemos caps this
story with his own, how when he was sick, on the seventh
day when his fever was burning like a furnace, every one
left him, and the doors were shut. Then there stood before
him an all-beauteous youth in a white garment, who led him
through a chasm into Hades, as he knew by seeing Tantalos
and Tityos and Sisyphos; and bringing him to the court of
judgement, where were Aiakos and the Fates and the
Erinyes, the youth set him before Pluto the King, who sat
reading the names of those whose day of life was over.
But Pluto was angry, and said to the guide, ‘This one’s
thread is not run out, that he should depart, but bring me
Demylos the coppersmith, for he is living beyond the
spindle.’ So Kleodemos came back to himself free from
his fever and announced that Demylos, who was a sick
neighbour, would die; and accordingly a little while after
there was heard the cry of the mourners wailing for him.[#]
Plutarch’s stories, told more seriously, are yet one in type
with the mocking Lucian’s. The wicked, pleasure-seeking
Thespesios lies three days as dead, and revives to tell his
vision of the world below. One Antyllos was sick, and
seemed to the doctors to retain no trace of life; till, waking
without sign of insanity, he declared that he had been
indeed dead, but was ordered back to life, those who brought
him being severely chidden by their lord, and sent to fetch
Nikander instead, a well-known currier, who was accordingly
taken with a fever, and died on the third day.[#] Such
stories, old and new, are current among the Hindus at this
day. A certain man’s soul, for instance, is carried to the
// File: 062.png
.pn +1
realm of Yama by mistake for a namesake, and is sent
back in haste to regain his body before it is burnt; but in
the meanwhile he has a glimpse of the hideous punishments
of the wicked, and of the glorious life of those who had
mortified the flesh on earth, and of suttee-widows now
sitting in happiness by their husbands.[#] Mutatis mutandis
these tales reappear in Christian mythology, as when
Gregory the Great records that a certain nobleman named
Stephen died, who was taken to the region of Hades, and
saw many things he had heard before but not believed; but
when he was set before the ruler there presiding, he sent
him back, saying that it was this Stephen’s neighbour—Stephen
the smith—whom he had commanded to be
brought; and accordingly the one returned to life, and the
other died.[#]

The thought of human visitors revealing the mysteries of
the world beyond the grave, which indeed took no slight
hold on Christian belief, attached itself in a remarkable
way to the doctrine of Christ’s descent into Hades.
This dogma had so strongly established itself by the end of
the <abbr=fourth>4th</abbr> century, that Augustine could ask, <lang=la>‘Quis nisi infidelis
negaverit fuisse apud inferos Christum?’</lang>[#] A distinct
statement of the dogma was afterwards introduced
into the symbol commonly called the ‘Apostles’ Creed:’
<lang=la>‘Descendit ad inferos,’ ‘Descendit ad inferna,’</lang> ‘He descended
into hell.’[#] The Descent into Hades, which had
the theological use of providing a theory of salvation
applicable to the saints of the old covenant, imprisoned in
the limbo of the fathers, is narrated in full in the apocryphal
Gospel of Nicodemus, and is made there to rest upon a
legend which belongs to the present group of human visits
to the other world. It is related that two sons of Simeon,
// File: 063.png
.pn +1
named Charinus and Leucius, rose from their tombs at the
Resurrection, and went about silently and prayerfully
among men, till Annas and Caiaphas brought them into the
synagogue, and charged them to tell of their raising from
the dead. Then, making the sign of the cross upon their
tongues, the two asked for parchment and wrote their record.
They had been set with all their fathers in the depths of
Hades, when on a sudden there appeared the colour of the
sun like gold, and a purple royal light shining on them;
then the patriarchs and prophets, from Adam to Simeon
and John the Baptist, rejoicing proclaimed the coming of the
light and the fulfilment of the prophecies; Satan and Hades
wrangled in strife together; in vain the brazen gates were
shut with their iron bars, for the summons came to open
the gates that the king of glory may come in, who hath
broken the gates of brass and cut the bars of iron in sunder;
then the mighty Lord broke the fetters and visited them who
sat in darkness and the shadow of death; Adam and his
righteous children were delivered from Hades, and led into
the glorious grace of Paradise.[#]

Dante, elaborating in the ‘Divina Commedia’ the conceptions
of paradise, purgatory, and hell familiar to the
actual belief of his age, describes them once more in the
guise of a living visitor to the land of the dead. Echoes
in mediæval legend of such exploring expeditions to the
world below still linger faintly in the popular belief of
Europe. It has been thus with <abbr=Saint>St.</abbr> Patrick’s Purgatory,[#]
the cavern in the island of Lough Derg, in the county
Donegal, which even in the seventeenth century O’Sullevan
could describe first and foremost in his ‘Catholic History’
as ‘the greatest of all memorable things of Ireland.’
Mediæval visits to the other world were often made in the
// File: 064.png
.pn +1
spirit. But like Ulysses, Wainamoinen, and Dante, men
could here make the journey in body, as did Sir Owain
and the monk Gilbert. When the pilgrim had spent fifteen
days in prayer and fasting in the church, and had been led
with litanies and sprinkling of holy water to the entrance
of the purgatory, and the last warnings of the monks
had failed to turn him from his venture, the door was
closed upon him, and if found next morning, he could
tell the events of his awful journey—how he crossed the
narrow bridge that spans the river of death, how he
saw the hideous torments of hell, and approached the
joys of paradise. Sir Owain, one of King Stephen’s
knights, went thither in penance for his life of violence
and rapine, and this was one of the scenes he beheld in
purgatory:—

.pm verse-start
‘There come develes other mony mo,
And badde the knygth with hem to go,
And ladde him into a fowle contreye,
Where ever was nygth and never day,
For hit was derke and wonther colde:
Yette was there never man so bolde,
Hadde he never so mony clothes on,
But he wolde be colde as ony stone.
Wynde herde he none blowe,
But faste hit frese bothe hye and lowe.
They browgte him to a felde full brode,
Overe suche another never he yode,
For of the lengthe none ende he knewe
Thereover algate he moste nowe.
As he wente he herde a crye,
He wondered what hit was, and why,
He syg ther men and wymmen also
That lowde cryed, for hem was woo.
They leyen thykke on every londe,
Faste nayled bothe fote and honde
With nayles glowyng alle of brasse:
They ete the erthe so wo hem was;
Here face was nayled to the grownde.
“Spare,” they cryde, “a lytylle stounde.”
The develes wolde hem not spare:
To hem peyne they thowgte yare.’
.pm verse-end
// File: 065.png
.pn +1

When Owain had seen the other fields of punishment, with
their fiery serpents and toads, and the fires where sinners
were hung up by their offending members, and roasted on
spits, and basted with molten metal, and turned about on a
great wheel of fire, and when he had passed the Devil’s
Mouth over the awful bridge, he reached the fair white glassy
wall of the Earthly Paradise, reaching upward and upward,
and saw before him the beautiful gate, whence issued a
ravishing perfume. Then he soon forgot his pains and
sorrows.

.pm verse-start
‘As he stode, and was so fayne,
Hym thowgth ther come hym agayne
A swyde fayr processyoun
Of alle manere menne of relygyoun,
Fayre vestementes they hadde on,
So ryche syg he never none.
Myche joye hym thowgte to se
Bysshopes yn here dygnité;
Ilkone wente other be and be,
Every man yn his degré.
He syg ther monkes and chanones,
And freres with newe shavene crownes;
Ermytes he saw there amonge,
And nonnes with fulle mery songe;
Persones, prestes, and vycaryes;
They made fulle mery melodyes.
He syg ther kynges and emperoures,
And dukes that had casteles and toures,
Erles and barones fele,
That some tyme hadde the worldes wele.
Other folke he syg also,
Never so mony as he dede thoo.
Wymmen he syg ther that tyde:
Myche was the joye ther on every syde:
For alle was joye that with hem ferde,
And myche solempnyté he herde.’
.pm verse-end

The procession welcomed Owain, and led him about, showing
him the beauties of that country:—

.pm verse-start
‘Hyt was grene, and fulle of flowres
Of mony dyvers colowres;
// File: 066.png
.pn +1
Hyt was grene on every syde,
As medewus are yn someres tyde.
Ther were trees growyng fulle grene
Fulle of fruyte ever more, y wene;
For ther was frwyte of mony a kynde,
Such yn the londe may no mon fynde.
Ther they have the tree of lyfe,
Theryn ys myrthe, and never stryfe;
Frwyte of wysdom also ther ys,
Of the whyche Adam and Eve dede amysse:
Other manere frwytes ther were fele,
And alle manere joye and wele.
Moche folke he syg ther dwelle,
There was no tongue that mygth hem telle;
Alle were they cloded yn ryche wede,
What cloth hit was he kowthe not rede.

There was no wronge, but ever rygth,
Ever day and nevere nygth.
They shone as brygth and more clere
Than ony sonne yn the day doth here.’
.pm verse-end

The poem, in fifteenth-century English, from which these
passages are taken, is a version of the original legend of
earlier date, and as such contrasts with a story really dating
from early in the fifteenth century—William Staunton’s
descent into Purgatory, where the themes of the old
sincerely-believed visionary lore are fading into moral
allegory, and the traveller sees the gay gold and silver
collars and girdles burning into the wearer’s flesh, and the
jags that men were clothed in now become adders and
dragons, sucking and stinging them, and the fiends drawing
down the skin of women’s shoulders into pokes, and smiting
into their heads with burning hammers their gay chaplets
of gold and jewels turned to burning nails, and so forth.
Late in this fifteenth century, <abbr=Saint>St.</abbr> Patrick’s Purgatory fell
into discredit, but even the destruction of the entrance-building,
in 1479, by Papal order, did not destroy the ideal
road. About 1693, an excavation on the spot brought to
light a window with iron stanchions; there was a cry for
// File: 067.png
.pn +1
holy water to keep the spirits from breaking out from prison,
and the priest smelt brimstone from the dark cavity below,
which, however, unfortunately turned out to be a cellar. In
still later times, the yearly pilgrimage of tens of thousands
of votaries to the holy place has kept up this interesting
survival from the lower culture, whereby a communication
may still be traced, if not from Earth to Hades, at least
from the belief of the New Zealander to that of the Irish
peasant.

To study and compare the ideal regions where man has
placed the abodes of departed souls is not an unprofitable
task. True, geography has now mapped out into mere earth
and water the space that lay beyond the narrower sea and
land known to the older nations, and astronomy no longer
recognizes the flat earth trodden by men as being the roof
of subterranean halls, nor the sky as being a solid firmament,
shutting out men’s gaze from strata or spheres of
empyræan regions beyond. Yet if we carry our minds back
to the state of knowledge among the lower races, we shall
not find it hard to understand the early conceptions as to
the locality of the regions beyond the grave. They are no
secrets of high knowledge made known to sages of old;
they are the natural fancies which childlike ignorance
would frame in any age. The regularity with which such
conceptions repeat themselves over the world bears testimony
to the regularity of the processes by which opinion
is formed among mankind. At the same time, the student
who carefully compares them will find in them a perfect
illustration of an important principle, widely applicable to
the general theory of the formation of human opinion.
When a problem has presented itself to mankind at large,
susceptible of a number of solutions about equally plausible,
the result is that the several opinions thus produced will be
found lying scattered in country after country. The problem
here is, given the existence of souls of the dead who from
time to time visit the living, where is the home of these
ghosts? Why men in one district should have preferred
// File: 068.png
.pn +1
the earth, in another the under-world, in another the sky,
as the abode of departed souls, is a question often difficult
to answer. But we may at least see how again and again
the question was taken in hand, and how out of the three or
four available answers some peoples adopted one, some
another, some several at once. Primitive theologians had
all the world before them where to choose their place of
rest for the departed, and they used to the full their
speculative liberty.

Firstly, when the land of souls is located on the surface
of the earth, there is choice of fit places among wild and
cloudy precipices, in secluded valleys, in far-off plains and
islands. In Borneo, Mr. <abbr=Saint>St.</abbr> John visited the heaven of the
Idaan race, on the summit of Kina Balu, and the native
guides, who feared to pass the night in this abode of spirits,
showed the traveller the moss on which the souls of their
ancestors fed, and the footprints of the ghostly buffaloes
that followed them. On Gunung Danka, a mountain in
West Java, there is such another ‘Earthly Paradise.’ The
Sajira who dwell in the district indeed profess themselves
Mohammedans, but they secretly maintain their old belief,
and at death or funeral they enjoin the soul in solemn form
to set aside the Moslem Allah, and to take the way to the
dwelling-place of his own forefathers’ souls:—

.pm verse-start
‘Step up the bed of the river, and cross the neck of land,
Where the aren trees stand in a clump, and the pinangs in a row,
Thither direct thy steps, Laillah being set aside.’
.pm verse-end

Mr. Jonathan Rigg had lived ten years among these people,
and knew them well, yet had never found out that their
paradise was on this mountain. When at last he heard of
it, he made the ascent, finding on the top only a few river-stones,
forming one of the balai, or sacred cairns, common
in the district. But the popular belief, that a tiger would
devour the chiefs who permitted a violation of the sacred
place, soon received the sort of confirmation which such
beliefs receive everywhere, for a tiger killed two children a
// File: 069.png
.pn +1
few days later, and the disaster was of course ascribed to
Mr. Rigg’s profanation.[#] The Chilians said that the soul
goes westward over the sea to Gulcheman, the dwelling-place
of the dead beyond the mountains; life, some said,
was all pleasure there, but others thought that part would
be happy and part miserable.[#] Hidden among the mountains
of Mexico lay the joyous garden-land of Tlalocan,
where maize, and pumpkins, and chilis, and tomatos never
failed, and where abode the souls of children sacrificed to
Tlaloc, its god, and the souls of such as died by drowning
or thunderstroke, or by leprosy or dropsy, or other acute
disease.[#] A survival of such thought may be traced into
mediæval civilization, in the legends of the Earthly Paradise,
the fire-girt abode of saints not yet raised to highest
bliss, localized in the utmost East of Asia, where earth
stretches up towards heaven.[#] When Columbus sailed west-ward
across the Atlantic to seek ‘the new heaven and the
new earth’ he had read of in Isaiah, he found them, though
not as he sought. It is a quaint coincidence that he found
there also, though not as he sought it, the Earthly Paradise
which was another main object of his venturous quest. The
Haitians described to the white men their Coaibai, the
paradise of the dead, in the lovely Western valleys of their
island, where the souls hidden by day among the cliffs came
down at night to feed on the delicious fruit of the mamey-trees,
of which the living ate but sparingly, lest the souls of
their friends should want.[#]

Secondly, there are Australians who think that the spirit
of the dead hovers awhile on earth and goes at last toward
// File: 070.png
.pn +1
the setting sun, or westward over the sea to the island of
souls, the home of his fathers. Thus these rudest savages
have developed two thoughts which we meet with again and
again far onward in the course of culture—the thought of
an island of the dead, and the thought that the world of
departed souls is in the West, whither the Sun descends at
evening to his daily death.[#] Among the North American
Indians, when once upon a time an Algonquin hunter left
his body behind and visited the land of souls in the sunny
south, he saw before him beautiful trees and plants, but
found he could walk right through them. Then he paddled
in the canoe of white shining stone across the lake where
wicked souls perish in the storm, till he reached the beautiful
and happy island where there is no cold, no war, no
bloodshed, but the creatures run happily about, nourished
by the air they breathe.[#] Tongan legend says that, long
ago, a canoe returning from Fiji was driven by stress of
weather to Bolotu, the island of gods and souls lying in
the ocean north-west of Tonga. That island is larger
than all theirs together, full of all finest fruits and loveliest
flowers, that fill the air with fragrance, and come anew the
moment they are plucked; birds of beauteous plumage
are there, and hogs in plenty, all immortal save when
killed for the gods to eat, and then new living ones appear
immediately to fill their places. But when the hungry
crew of the canoe landed, they tried in vain to pluck the
shadowy bread-fruit, they walked through unresisting trees
and houses, even as the souls of chiefs who met them
walked unchecked through their solid bodies. Counselled
to hasten home from this land of no earthly food, the men
sailed to Tonga, but the deadly air of Bolotu had infected
them, and they soon all died.[#]
// File: 071.png
.pn +1

Such ideas took strong hold on classic thought, in the
belief in a paradise in the Fortunate Islands of the far
Western Ocean. Hesiod in the ‘Works and Days’ tells of
the half-gods of the Fourth Age, between the Age of
Bronze and the Age of Iron. When death closed on this
heroic race, Zeus granted them at the ends of Earth a life
and home, apart from man and far from the immortals.
There Kronos reigns over them, and they dwell careless in
the Islands of the Happy, beside deep-eddying Ocean—blest
heroes, for whom the grain-giving field bears, thrice
blooming yearly, the honey-sweet fruit:—

.pm verse-start
<lang=grc>‘Ἔνθ’ ἤτοι τοὺς μὲν θανάτου τέλος ἀμφεκάλυψε·</lang>
<lang=grc>Τοîς δὲ δίχ’ ἀνθρώπον βίοτον καὶ ἤθἐ ὀπάσσας</lang>
<lang=grc>Ζεὺς Κρονίδες κατένασσε πατήρ ἐς πείρατα γαίες,</lang>
<lang=grc>Τηλοὐ ἀπ’ ἀθανάτον· τοῖσιν Κρόνος ἐμβασιλεύει·</lang>
<lang=grc>Καὶ τοὶ μὲν ναίουσιν ἀκηδέα θυμὸν ἔχοντες</lang>
<lang=grc>Ἐν μακάρον νήσοισι παρ’ Ὠκεανὸν βαθυδίνεν,</lang>
<lang=grc>Ὄλβιοι ἤροες, τοῖσιν μελιεδέα καρπὸν</lang>
<lang=grc>Τρὶς ἔτεος θάλλοντα φέρει ζείδωρος ἄρουρα.’</lang>[#]
.pm verse-end

These Islands of the Blest, assigned as the abode of
blessed spirits of the dead, came indeed to be identified
with the Elysian Fields. Thus Pindar sings of steadfast
souls, who through three lives on either side have endured
free from injustice; then they pass by the road of Zeus to
the tower of Kronos, where the ocean breezes blow round
the islands of the happy, blazing with golden flowers of land
and water. Thus, also, in the famous hymn of Kallistratos
in honour of Harmodios and Aristogeiton, who slew the
tyrant Hipparchos:—

.pm verse-start
<lang=grc>‘Φίλταθ’ Ἁρμόδἰ, οὔ τι πω τέθνηκας</lang>
<lang=grc>Νήσοις δ’ ἐν μακάρων σε φασὶν εîναι,</lang>
<lang=grc>Ἵνα περ ποδώκες Ἀχιλλεύς,</lang>
<lang=grc>Τυδείδεν τε φασὶ τὸν ἐσθλὸν Διομήδεα.’</lang>[#]
.pm verse-end

This group of legends has especial interest to us Englishmen,
who ourselves dwell, it seems, on such an island of the
// File: 072.png
.pn +1
dead. It is not that we or our country are of a more ghostly
nature than others, but the idea is geographical we are
dwellers in the region of the setting sun, the land of death.
The elaborate account by Procopius, the historian of the
Gothic War, dates from the <abbr=sixth>6th</abbr> century. The island of
Brittia, according to him, lies opposite the mouths of the
Rhine, some 200 stadia off, between Britannia and Thule,
and on it dwell three populous nations, the Angles, Frisians,
and Britons. (By Brittia, it appears, he means our Great
Britain, his Britannia being the coast-land from modern
Brittany to Holland, and his Thule being Scandinavia.)
In the course of his history it seems to him needful to record
a story, mythic and dreamlike as he thinks, yet which
numberless men vouch for as having been themselves witnesses
by eye and ear to its facts. This story is that the
souls of the departed are conveyed across the sea to the
island of Brittia. Along the mainland coast are many
villages, inhabited by fishermen and tillers of the soil
and traders to this island in their vessels. They are subject
to the Franks, but pay no tribute, having from of old
had to do by turns the burdensome service of transporting
the souls. Those on duty for each night stay at home till
they hear a knocking at the doors, and a voice of one unseen
calling them to their work. Then without delay rising from
their beds, compelled by some unknown power they go down
to the beach, and there they see boats, not their own but
others, lying ready but empty of men. Going on board and
taking the oars, they find that by the burden of the multitude
of souls embarked, the vessel lies low in the water,
gunwale under within a finger’s breadth. In an hour they
are at the opposite shore, though in their own boats they
would hardly make the voyage in a night and day. When
they reach the island, the vessel becomes empty, till it is so
light that only the keel touches the waves. They see no
man on the voyage, no man at the landing, but a voice is
heard that proclaims the name and rank and parentage of
each newly arrived passenger, or if women, those of their
// File: 073.png
.pn +1
husbands. Traces of this remarkable legend seem to have
survived, thirteen centuries later, in that endmost district
of the Britannia of Procopius which still keeps the name
of Bretagne. Near Raz, where the narrow promontory
stretches westward into the ocean, is the ‘Bay of Souls’
(boé ann anavo); in the commune of Plouguel the corpse is
taken to the churchyard, not by the shorter road by land,
but in a boat by the ‘Passage de l’Enfer,’ across a little
arm of the sea; and Breton folk-lore holds fast to the legend
of the Curé de Braspar, whose dog leads over to Great
Britain the souls of the departed, when the wheels of the
soul-car are heard creaking in the air. These are but
mutilated fragments, but they seem to piece together with
another Keltic myth, told by Macpherson in the last century,
the voyage of the boat of heroes to Flath-Innis, Noble
Island, the green island home of the departed, which lies
calm amid the storms far in the Western Ocean. With full
reason, also, Mr. Wright traces to the situation of Ireland
in the extreme West its especial association with legends of
descents to the land of shades. Claudian placed at the
extremity of Gaul the entrance where Ulysses found a way
to Hades—

.pm verse-start
<lang=la>‘Est locus extremum qua pandit Gallia litus,</lang>
<lang=la>Oceani prætentus aquis, ubi fertur Ulysses,’ &c.</lang>
.pm verse-end

No wonder that this spot should have been since identified
with <abbr=Saint>St.</abbr> Patrick’s Purgatory, and that some ingenious
etymologist should have found in the name of ‘Ulster’ a
corruption of ‘Ulyssisterra,’ and a commemoration of the
hero’s visit.[#]

Thirdly, the belief in a subterranean Hades peopled by
the ghosts of the dead is quite common among the lower
races. The earth is flat, say the Italmen of Kamchatka,
// File: 074.png
.pn +1
for if it were round, people would fall off; it is the wrong
side of another heaven, which covers another earth below,
whither the dead will go down to their new life, and so, as
Steller says, their mundane system is like a tub with three
bottoms.[#] In North America, the Tacullis held that the
soul goes after death into the bowels of the earth, whence
it can come back in human shape to visit friends.[#] In
South America, Brazilian souls travel down to the world
below in the West, and Patagonian souls will depart to
enjoy eternal drunkenness in the caves of their ancestral
deities.[#] The New Zealander who says ‘The sun has returned
to Hades’ (kua hoki mai te Ra ki te Rua), simply
means that it has set. When a Samoan Islander dies, the
host of spirits that surround the house, waiting to convey
his soul away, set out with him crossing the land and
swimming the sea, to the entrance of the spirit-world.
This is at the westernmost point of the westernmost island,
Savaii, and there one may see the two circular holes or
basins where souls descend, chiefs by the bigger and
plebeians by the smaller, into the regions of the under-world.
There below is a heaven, earth, and sea, and
people with real bodies, planting, fishing, cooking, as in the
present life; but at night their bodies become like a confused
collection of fiery sparks, and in this state during the
hours of darkness they come up to revisit their former
abodes, retiring at dawn to the bush or to the lower
regions.[#] For the state of thought on this subject among
rude African tribes, it is enough to cite the Zulus, who at
death will descend to live in Hades among their ancestors,
the ‘Abapansi,’ the ‘people underground.’[#] Among rude
Asiatic tribes, such an example may be taken from the
// File: 075.png
.pn +1
Karens. They are not quite agreed where Plu, the land of
the dead, is situate; it may be above the earth or beyond
the horizon. But the dominant and seemingly indigenous
opinion is that it is below the earth. When the sun sets on
earth, it rises in the Karen Hades, and when it sets in
Hades it rises in this world. Here, again, the familiar
belief of the European peasant is found; the spirits of the
dead may come up from the land of shades by night, but
at daybreak must return.[#]

Such ideas, developed by uncultured races, may be followed
up in various detail, through the stage of religion represented
by the Mexican and Peruvian nations,[#] into higher
ranges of culture. The Roman Orcus was in the bowels of
the earth, and when the <lang=la>‘lapis manalis,’</lang> the stone that
closed the mouth of the world below, was moved away on
certain solemn days, the ghosts of the dead came up to the
world above, and partook of the offerings of their friends.[#]
Among the Greeks, the Land of Hades was in the world
below, nor was the thought unknown that it was the sunset
realm of the Western god (<lang=grc>πρὸς ἑσπέρου θεοῦ</lang>). What Hades
seemed like to the popular mind, Lucian thus describes:—‘The
great crowd, indeed, whom the wise call “idiots,”
believing Homer and Hesiod, and the other myth-makers
about these things, and setting up their poetry as a law,
have supposed a certain deep place under the earth, Hades,
and that it is vast, and roomy, and gloomy, and sunless,
and how thought to be lighted up so as to behold every one
within, I know not.’[#] In the ancient Egyptian doctrine of
the future life, modelled on solar myth, the region of the
departed combines the under-world and the west, Amenti;
the dead passes the gate of the setting sun to traverse the
roads of darkness, and behold his father Osiris; and with
// File: 076.png
.pn +1
this solar thought the Egyptian priests, representing in
symbolic ceremony the scenes of the other world, carried
the corpse in the sacred boat across to the burial-place, on
the western side of the sacred lake.[#] So, too, the cavernous
Sheol of the Israelites, the shadowy region of departed
souls, lay deep below the earth. Through the great Aryan
religious systems, Brahmanism, Zarathustrism, Buddhism,
and onward into the range of Islam and of Christianity,
subterranean hells of purgatory or punishment make the
doleful contrast to heavens of light and glory.

It is, however, a point worthy of special notice that the
conception of hell as a fiery abyss, so familiar to the religions
of the higher civilization, is all but unknown to savage
thought, so much so that if met with, its genuineness is
doubtful. Captain John Smith’s ‘History of Virginia,’
published in 1624, contains two different accounts of the
Indians’ doctrine of a future life. Smith’s own description
is of a land beyond the mountains, toward sunset, where
chiefs and medicine-men in paint and feathers shall smoke,
and sing, and dance with their forefathers, while the common
people have no life after death, but rot in their graves.
Heriot’s description is of tabernacles of the gods to which
the good are taken up to perpetual happiness, while the
wicked are carried to ‘Popogusso,’ a great pit which they
think to be at the furthest parts of the world where the sun
sets, and there burn continually.[#] Now knowing so much
as we do of the religion of the Algonquins, to whom these
Virginians belonged, we may judge that while the first
account is genuinely native, though perhaps not quite correctly
understood, the second was borrowed by the Indians
from the white men themselves. Yet even here the touch
of solar myth is manifest, and the description of the fiery
abyss in the region of sunset may be compared with one
// File: 077.png
.pn +1
from our own country, in the Anglo-Saxon dialogue of
Saturn and Solomon. ‘Saga me forhwan byth seo sunne
read on æfen? Ic the secge, forthon heo locath on helle.—Tell
me, why is the sun red at even? I tell thee,
because she looketh on hell.’[#] To the same belief belongs
another striking mythic feature. The idea of volcanos
being mouths of the under-world seems not unexampled
among the lower races, for we hear of certain New Zealanders
casting their dead down into a crater.[#] But in connexion
with the thought of a gehenna of fire and brimstone,
Vesuvius, Etna, and Hecla had spiritual as well as material
terrors to the mind of Christendom, for they were believed
to be places of purgatory or the very mouths of the pit
where the souls of the damned were cast down.[#] The
Indians of Nicaragua used in old times to offer human
sacrifices to their volcano Masaya, flinging the corpses into
the crater, and in later years, after the conversion of the
country, we hear of Christian confessors sending their
penitents to climb the mountain, and (as a glimpse of hell)
to look down upon the molten lava.[#]

Fourthly, in old times and new, it has come into men’s
minds to fix upon the sun and moon as abodes of departed
souls. When we have learnt from the rude Natchez of the
Mississippi and the Apalaches of Florida that the sun is
the bright dwelling of departed chiefs and braves, and have
traced like thoughts on into the theologies of Mexico and
Peru, then we may compare these savage doctrines with
Isaac Taylor’s ingenious supposition in his ‘Physical
Theory of Another Life,’—the sun of each planetary system
is the house of the higher and ultimate spiritual corporeity,
and the centre of assembly to those who have passed on the
planets their preliminary era of corruptible organization.
Or perhaps some may prefer the Rev. Tobias Swinden’s
// File: 078.png
.pn +1
book, published in the last century, and translated into
French and German, which proved the sun to be hell, and
its dark spots gatherings of damned souls.[#] And when in
South America the Saliva Indians have pointed out the
moon, their paradise where no mosquitos are, and the
Guaycurus have shown it as the home of chiefs and
medicine-men deceased, and the Polynesians of Tokelau in
like manner have claimed it as the abode of departed kings
and chiefs, then these pleasant fancies may be compared
with Plutarch’s description of the virtuous souls who after
purification in the middle space gain their footing on the
moon, and there are crowned as victors.[#] The converse
notion of the moon as the seat of hell, has been elaborated
in profoundest bathos by Mr. <abbr rend=spell>M. F.</abbr> Tupper:

.pm verse-start
‘I know thee well, O Moon, thou cavern’d realm,
Sad Satellite, thou giant ash of death,
Blot on God’s firmament, pale home of crime,
Scarr’d prison-house of sin, where damned souls
Feed upon punishment. Oh, thought sublime,
That amid night’s black deeds, when evil prowls
Through the broad world, thou, watching sinners well,
Glarest o’er all, the wakeful eye of—Hell!’
.pm verse-end

Skin for skin, the brown savage is not ill matched in such
speculative lore with the white philosopher.

Fifthly, as Paradise on the face of the earth, and Hades
beneath it where the sun goes down, are regions whose
existence is asserted or not denied by savage and barbaric
science, so it is with Heaven. Among the examples which
display for us the real course of knowledge among mankind,
and the real relation which primitive bears to later culture,
the belief in the existence of a firmament is one of the most
// File: 079.png
.pn +1
instructive. It arises naturally in the minds of children
still, and in accordance with the simplest childlike thought,
the cosmologies of the North American Indians[#] and the
South Sea Islanders[#] describe their flat earth arched over
by the solid vault of heaven. Like thoughts are to be
traced on through such details as the Zulu idea that the
blue heaven is a rock encircling the earth, inside which are
the sun, moon, and stars, and outside which dwell the
people of heaven; the modern negro’s belief that there is a
firmament stretched above like a cloth or web; the Finnish
poem which tells how Ilmarinen forged the firmament of
finest steel, and set in it the moon and stars.[#] The New
Zealander, with his notion of a solid firmament, through
which the waters can be let down on earth through a crack
or hole from the reservoir of rain above, could well explain
the passage in Herodotus concerning that place in North
Africa where, as the Libyans said, the sky is pierced, as
well as the ancient Jewish conception of a firmament of
heaven, ‘strong as a molten mirror,’ with its windows
through which the rain pours down in deluge from the
reservoirs above, windows which late Rabbinical literature
tells us were made by taking out two stars.[#] In nations
where the theory of the firmament prevails, accounts of
bodily journeys or spiritual ascents to heaven are in general
meant not as figure, but as fact. Among the lower races,
the tendency to localize the region of departed souls above
the sky seems less strong than that which leads them to
place their world of the dead on or below the earth’s surface.
Yet some well-marked descriptions of a savage
// File: 080.png
.pn +1
Heaven are on record, the following, and others to be cited
presently. Even some Australians seem to think of going
up to the clouds at death, to eat and drink, and hunt and
fish as here.[#] In North America, the Winnebagos placed
their paradise in the sky, where souls travel along that
‘Path of the Dead’ which we call the Milky Way; and
working out the ever-recurring solar idea, the modern
Iroquois speak of the soul going upward and westward, till
it comes out on the beauteous plains of heaven, with people
and trees and things as on earth.[#] In South America the
Guarayos, representatives in some sort of the past condition
of the Guarani race, worship Tamoi the Grandfather, the
Ancient of Heaven; he was their first ancestor, who lived
among them in old days and taught them to till the ground;
then rising to heaven in the East he disappeared, having
promised to be the helper of his people on earth, and to
transport them, when they died, from the top of a sacred
tree into another life, where they shall find their kindred
and have hunting in plenty, and possess all that they
possessed on earth; therefore it is that the Guarayos adorn
their dead, and burn their weapons for them, and bury
them with their faces to the East, whither they are to go.[#]
Among American peoples whose culture rose to a higher
level than that of these savage tribes, we hear of the
Peruvian Heaven, the glorious ‘Upper World,’ and of
the temporary abode of Aztec warriors on heavenly wooded
plains, where the sun shines when it is night on earth,
wherefore it was a Mexican saying that the sun goes at
evening to lighten the dead.[#] What thoughts of heaven
were in the minds of the old Aryan poets, this hymn
from the Rig-Veda may show:—
// File: 081.png
.pn +1

.pm verse-start
‘Where there is eternal light, in the world where the sun is placed, in that immortal imperishable world place me, O Soma!
Where king Vaivasvata reigns, where the secret place of heaven is, where these mighty waters are, there make me immortal!
Where life is free, in the third heaven of heavens, where the worlds are radiant, there make me immortal!
Where wishes and desires are, where the place of the bright sun is, where there is freedom and delight, there make me immortal!
Where there is happiness and delight, where joy and pleasure reside, where the desires of our desire are attained, there make me immortal!’[#]
.pm verse-end

In such bright vague thoughts from the poet’s religion of
nature, or in cosmic schemes of ancient astronomy, with
their artificial glories of barbaric architecture exaggerated
in the skies, or in the raptures of mystic vision, or in
the calmer teaching of the theologic doctrine of a future
life, descriptions of realms of blessed souls in heaven are
to be followed through the religions of the Brahman, the
Buddhist, the Parsi, the later Jew, the Moslem, and the
Christian.

For the object, not of writing a handbook of religions,
but of tracing the relation which the religion of savages
bears to the religion of cultured nations, these details are
enough to show the general line of human thought regarding
the local habitations of departed souls. It seems plain
from the most cursory inspection of these various localizations,
however much we may consider them as inherited or
transmitted from people to people in the complex movements
of theological history, that they are at any rate not
derived from any single religion accepted among ancient or
primæval men. They bear evident traces of independent
working out in the varied definition of the region of souls,
as on earth among men, on earth in some distant country,
below the earth, above or beyond the sky. Similar ideas
of this kind are found in different lands, but this similarity
// File: 082.png
.pn +1
seems in large measure due to independent recurrence
of thoughts so obvious. Not less is independent
fancy compatible with the ever-recurring solar myth in such
ideas, placing the land of Death in the land of Evening or
of Night, and its entrance at the gates of Sunset. Barbaric
poets of many a distant land must have gazed into the West
to read the tale of Life and Death, and tell it of Man. If,
however, we look more closely into the stages of intellectual
history to which these theories of the Future World belong,
it will appear that the assignment of the realm of departed
souls to the three great regions, Earth, Hades, Heaven, has
not been uniform. Firstly, the doctrine of a land of souls
on Earth belongs widely and deeply to savage culture, but
dwindles in the barbaric stage, and survives but feebly into
the mediæval. Secondly, the doctrine of a subterranean
Hades holds as large a place as this in savage belief, and
has held it firmly along the course of higher religions,
where, however, this under-world is looked on less and less
as the proper abode of the dead, but rather as the dismal
place of purgatory and hell. Lastly, the doctrine of a
Heaven, floored upon a firmament, or placed in the upper
air, seems in early savage belief less common than the other
two, but yields to neither of them in its vigorous retention
by the thought of modern nations. These local theories
appear to be taken, firstly and mostly, in the most absolute
literal sense, and although, under the influence of physical
science, much that was once distinctly-meant philosophy has
now passed among theologians into imagery and metaphor,
yet at low levels of knowledge the new canons of interpretation
find little acceptance, and even in modern Europe the
rude cosmology of the lower races in no small measure
retains its place.

Turning now to consider the state of the departed in
these their new homes, we have to examine the definitions
of the Future Life which prevail through the religions of
mankind. In these doctrines there is much similarity
caused by the spreading of established beliefs into new
// File: 083.png
.pn +1
countries, and also much similarity that is beyond what
such transmission can account for. So there is much variety
due to local colour and circumstance, and also much variety
beyond the reach of such explanation. The main causes of
both similarity and variety seem to lie far deeper, in the
very origin and inmost meaning of the doctrines. The
details of the future life, among the lower races and upwards,
are no heterogeneous mass of arbitrary fancies.
Classified, they range themselves naturally round central
ideas, in groups whose correspondence seems to indicate the
special course of their development. Amongst the pictures
into which this world has shaped its expectations of the
next, two great conceptions are especially to be discerned.
The one is that the future life is, as it were, a reflexion of
this; in a new world, perhaps of dreamy beauty, perhaps
of ghostly gloom, men are to retain their earthly forms and
their earthly conditions, to have around them their earthly
friends, to possess their earthly property, to carry on their
earthly occupations. The other is that the future life is a
compensation for this, where men’s conditions are re-allotted
as the consequence, and especially as the reward or punishment,
of their earthly life. The first of these two ideas we
may call (with Captain Burton) the ‘continuance-theory,’
contrasting with it the second as the ‘retribution-theory.’
Separately or combined, these two doctrines are the keys
of the subject, and by grouping typical examples under
their two headings, it will be possible to survey systematically
man’s most characteristic schemes of his life beyond
the grave.

To the doctrine of Continuance belongs especially the
savage view of the spirit-land, that it is as the dream-land
where the souls of the living so often go to visit
the souls of the dead. There the soul of the dead Karen,
with the souls of his axe and cleaver, builds his house
and cuts his rice; the shade of the Algonquin hunter
hunts souls of beaver and elk, walking on the souls of
his snow-shoes over the soul of the snow; the fur-wrapped
// File: 084.png
.pn +1
Kamchadal drives his dog-sledge; the Zulu milks his
cows and drives his cattle to kraal; South American
tribes live on, whole or mutilated, healthy or sick, as
they left this world, leading their old lives, and having
their wives with them again, though indeed, as the Araucanians
said, they have no more children, for they are but
souls.[#] Soul-land is dream-land in its shadowy unreal
pictures, for which, nevertheless, material reality so plainly
furnished the models, and it is dream-land also in its vivid
idealization of the soberer thoughts and feelings of waking
life.

.pm verse-start
‘There was a time when meadow, grove, and stream,
    The earth, and every common sight,
        To me did seem
    Apparell’d in celestial light,
The glory and the freshness of a dream.’
.pm verse-end

Well might the Mohawk Indian describe the good land of
paradise, as he had seen it in a dream. The shade of the
Ojibwa follows a wide and beaten path that leads toward the
West, he crosses a deep and rapid water, and reaching a
country full of game and all things the Indian covets, he
joins his kindred in their long lodge.[#] So, on the southern
continent, the Bolivian Yuracarés will go, all of them, to a
future life where there will be plenty of hunting, and
Brazilian forest-tribes will find a pleasant forest full of
calabash-trees and game, where the souls of the dead will
live happily in company.[#] The Greenlanders hoped that
their souls—pale, soft, disembodied forms which the living
could not grasp—would lead a life better than that of earth,
and never ceasing. It might be in heaven, reached by the
// File: 085.png
.pn +1
rainbow, where the souls pitch their tents round the great
lake rich in fish and fowl, the lake whose waters above the
firmament overflowing make rain on earth, and if its banks
broke, there would be another deluge. But gaining the
most and best of their living from the depths of the sea,
they were also apt to think the land of Torngarsuk to be
below the sea or earth, and to be entered by the deep holes
in the rocks. Perpetual summer is there, ever beauteous
sunshine, and no night, good water and superfluity of birds
and fish, seals and reindeer to be caught without difficulty,
or found alive seething in a great kettle.[#] In the Kimbunda
country of South-West Africa, souls live on in ‘Kalunga,’
the world where it is day when it is night here; and with
plenty of food and drink, and women to serve them, and
hunting and dancing for pastime, they lead a life which
seems a corrected edition of this.[#] On comparison of these
pictures of the future life with such as have expressed the
longings of more cultured nations, there appear indeed
different details, but the principle is ever the same—the
idealization of earthly good. The Norseman’s ideal is
sketched in the few broad touches which show him in Walhalla,
where he and the other warriors without number ride
forth arrayed each morning and hew each other on Odin’s
plain, till the slain have been ‘chosen’ as in earthly battle,
and meal-tide comes, and slayers and slain mount and ride
home to feast on the everlasting boar, and drink mead and
ale with the Æsir.[#] To understand the Moslem’s mind,
we must read the two chapters of the Koran where the
Prophet describes the faithful in the garden of delights,
reclining on their couches of gold and gems, served by
children ever young, with bowls of liquor whose fumes will
not rise into the drinkers’ heads, living among the thornless
lotus-trees and date-palms loaded to the ground, feasting
on the fruits they love and the meat of the rarest birds,
with the houris near them with beautiful black eyes, like
// File: 086.png
.pn +1
pearls in the shell, where no idle or wicked speech is heard,
but only the words ‘Peace, Peace.’

.pm verse-start
‘They who fear the judgment of God shall have two gardens.
Which of the benefits of God will ye deny?
Adorned with groves.
Which of the benefits of God will ye deny?
In each of them shall spring two fountains.
Which of the benefits of God will ye deny?
In each of them shall grow two kinds of fruits.
Which of the benefits of God will ye deny?
They shall lie on carpets brocaded with silk and embroidered with gold; the fruits of the two gardens shall be near, easy to pluck.
Which of the benefits of God will ye deny?
There shall be young virgins with modest looks, unprofaned by man or jinn.
Which of the benefits of God will ye deny?
They are like jacinth and coral.
Which of the benefits of God will ye deny?
What is the recompence of good, if not good?
Which of the benefits of God will ye deny?’ &c.[#]
.pm verse-end

With these descriptions of Paradise idealized on secular
life, it is interesting to compare others which bear the impress
of a priestly caste, devising a heaven after their
manner. We can almost see the faces of the Jewish rabbis
settling their opinions about the high schools in the firmament
of heaven, where Rabbi Simeon ben Yochai and the
great Rabbi Eliezer teach Law and Talmud as they taught
when they were here below, and masters and learners go
prosing on with the weary old disputations of cross question
and crooked answer that pleased their souls on earth.[#] Nor
less suggestively do the Buddhist heavens reflect the minds
of the ascetics who devised them. As in their thoughts
sensual pleasure seemed poor and despicable in comparison
with mystic inward joy, rising and rising till consciousness
fades in trance, so, above their heavens of millions of years
of mere divine happiness, they raised other ranges of
heavens where sensual pain and pleasure cease, and enjoyment
// File: 087.png
.pn +1
becomes intellectual, till at a higher grade even bodily
form is gone, and after the last heaven of ‘Neither-consciousness-nor-unconsciousness’
there follows Nirwâna,
as ecstasy passes into swoon.[#]

But the doctrine of the continuance of the soul’s life has
another and a gloomier side. There are conceptions of an
abode of the dead characterized not so much by dreaminess
as by ghostliness. The realm of shades, especially if it be
a cavern underground, has seemed a dim and melancholy
place to the dwellers in this ‘white world,’ as the Russian
calls the land of the living. One description of the Hurons
tells how the other world, with its hunting and fishing, its
much-prized hatchets and robes and necklaces, is like this
world, yet day and night the souls groan and lament.[#]
Thus the region of Mictlan, the subterranean land of Hades
whither the general mass of the Mexican nation, high and
low, expected to descend from the natural death-bed, was an
abode looked forward to with resignation, but scarcely with
cheerfulness. At the funeral the survivors were bidden not
to mourn too much, the dead was reminded that he had
passed and suffered the labours of this life, transitory as
when one warms himself in the sun, and he was bidden to
have no care or anxiety to return to his kinsfolk now that
he has departed for ever and aye, for his consolation must
be that they too will end their labours, and go whither he
has gone before.[#] Among the Basutos, where the belief in
a future life in Hades is general, some imagine in this underworld
valleys ever green, and herds of hornless speckled
cattle owned by the dead; but it seems more generally
thought that the shades wander about in silent calm,
experiencing neither joy nor sorrow. Moral retribution
there is none.[#] The Hades of the West African seems no
// File: 088.png
.pn +1
ecstatic paradise, to judge by Captain Burton’s description:
‘It was said of the old Egyptians that they lived rather in
Hades than upon the banks of the Nile. The Dahomans
declare that this world is man’s plantation, the next is his
home,—a home which, however, no one visits of his own
accord. They of course own no future state of rewards
and punishment: there the King will be a King, and the
slave a slave for ever. Ku-to-men, or Deadman’s land, the
Dahoman’s other but not better world, is a country of
ghosts, of umbræ, who, like the spirits of the nineteenth
century in Europe, lead a quiet life, except when by means
of mediums they are drawn into the drawing-rooms of the
living.’ With some such hopeless expectation the neighbours
of the Dahomans, the Yorubas, judge the life to come
in their simple proverb that ‘A corner in this world is
better than a corner in the world of spirits.’[#] The Finns,
who feared the ghosts of the departed as unkind, harmful
beings, fancied them dwelling with their bodies in the grave,
or else, with what Castrén thinks a later philosophy, assigned
them their dwelling in the subterranean Tuonela. Tuonela
was like this upper earth, the sun shone there, there was no
lack of land and water, wood and field, tilth and meadow,
there were bears and wolves, snakes and pike, but all things
were of a hurtful, dismal kind, the woods dark and swarming
with wild beasts, the water black, the cornfields bearing
seed of snakes’ teeth, and there stern pitiless old Tuoni,
and his grim wife and son with the hooked fingers with iron
points, kept watch and ward over the dead lest they should
escape.[#] Scarce less dismal was the classic ideal of the
dark realm below, whither the shades of the dead must go
to join the many gone before (<lang=grc>ἐς πλεόνων ἱκέσθαι</lang>; <lang=la>penetrare
ad plures</lang>; andare tra i più). The Roman Orcus holds the
pallid souls, rapacious Orcus, sparing neither good nor bad.
// File: 089.png
.pn +1
Gloomy is the Greek land of Hades, dark dwelling of the
images of departed mortals, where the shades carry at once
their living features and their dying wounds, and glide and
cluster and whisper, and lead the shadow of a life. Like
the savage hunter on his ghostly prairie, the great Orion
still bears his brazen mace, still chases over the meadows of
asphodel the flying beasts he slew of yore in the lonely
mountains. Like the rude African of to-day, the swift-footed
Achilles scorns such poor, thin, shadowy life; rather
would he serve a mean man upon earth than be lord of all
the dead.

.pm verse-start
‘Truly, oxen and goodly sheep may be taken for booty,
Tripods, too, may be bought, and the yellow beauty of horses;
But from the fence of the teeth when once the soul is departed,
Never cometh it back, regained by plunder or purchase.’[#]
.pm verse-end

Where and what was Sheol, the dwelling of the ancient
Jewish dead? Of late years the Biblical critic has no longer
to depend on passages of the Old Testament for realizing
its conception, so plainly is it connected with the seven-circled
Irkalla of the Babylonian-Assyrian religion, the
gloomy subterranean abode whence there is no return for
man, though indeed the goddess Isthar passed through its
seven gates, and came back to earth from her errand of saving
all life from destruction. In the history of religions, few
passages are more instructive than those in which the
prophets of the Old Testament recognize the ancestral
connexion of their own belief with the national religions of
Babylon-Assyria, as united in the doctrine of a gloomy prison
of ghosts, through whose gates Jew and Gentile alike must
pass. Sheol (<lang=hbo>שאול</lang> from <lang=hbo>שאל</lang>) is, as its name implies, a cavernous
recess, yet it is no mere surface-grave or tomb, but an
under-world of awful depth: ‘High as Heaven, what doest
thou? deeper than Sheol, what knowest thou?’ Asshur
and all her company, Elam and all her multitude, the
// File: 090.png
.pn +1
mighty fallen of the uncircumcised, lie there. The great
king of Babylon must go down:—

.pm verse-start
‘Sheol from beneath is moved because of thee, to meet thee at thy coming:
He rouseth for thee the mighty dead, all the great chiefs of the earth;
He maketh to rise up from their thrones, all the kings of the nations.
All of them shall accost thee, and shall say unto thee:
Art thou, even thou too, became weak as we? Art thou made like unto us?’
.pm verse-end

To the Greek Septuagint, <i>Sheol</i> was <i>Hades</i>, and for this
the Coptic translators had their long-inherited Egyptian
name of <i>Amenti</i>, while the Vulgate renders it as <i>Infernus</i>,
the lower regions. The Gothic Ulfilas, translating the
Hades of the New Testament, could use <lang=got><i>Halja</i></lang> in its old
German sense of the dim shadowy home of the dead below
the earth; and the corresponding word <i>Hell</i>, if this its
earlier sense be borne in mind, fairly translates Sheol
and Hades in the English version of the Old and New
Testament, though the word has become misleading to uneducated
ears by being used also in the sense of Gehenna,
the place of torment. The early Hebrew historians and
prophets, holding out neither the hope of everlasting glory
nor the fear of everlasting agony as guiding motives for
man’s present life, lay down little direct doctrine of a future
state, yet their incidental mentions justify the translators
who regard Sheol as Hades. Sheol is a special locality where
dead men go to their dead ancestors: ‘And Isaac gave up
the ghost, and died, and was gathered unto his people ...
and his sons Esau and Jacob buried him.’ Abraham,
though not even buried in the land of his forefathers, is thus
‘gathered unto his people;’ and Jacob has no thought of
his body being laid with Joseph’s body, torn by wild beasts
in the wilderness, when he says, ‘I shall go down to my
son mourning to Sheol (<lang=grc>‘εἰς ᾅδου’</lang> in the <abbr=Septuagint>LXX.</abbr>, <lang=cop>‘èpesët
èàmenti’</lang> in the Coptic, <lang=la>‘in infernum’</lang> in the Vulgate).
The rephaim, the ‘shades’ of the dead, who dwell in
Sheol, love not to be disturbed from their rest by the
// File: 091.png
.pn +1
necromancer; ‘And Samuel said to Saul, why hast thou
disquieted me to bring me up?’ Yet their quiet is contrasted
in a tone of sadness with the life on earth; ‘Whatsoever
thy hand findeth to do, do it with thy might; for
there is no work, nor device, nor knowledge, nor wisdom,
in Sheol, whither thou goest.’[#] Such thoughts of the life
of the shades below did not disappear when, in the later
years of the Jewish nation, the great change in the doctrine
of the future life passed in so large a measure over the
Hebrew mind, their earlier thoughts of ghostly continuance
giving place to the doctrines of resurrection and retribution.
The ancient ideas have even held their place on into
Christian thought, in pictures like that of the Limbus
Patrum, the Hades where Christ descended to set free the
patriarchs.

The Retribution-theory of the future life comprises in a
general way the belief in different grades of future happiness,
especially in different regions of the other world allotted to
men according to their lives in this. This doctrine of retribution
is, as we have already seen, far from universal
among mankind, many races recognizing the idea of a spirit
outliving the body, without considering the fate of this
spirit to depend at all upon the conduct of the living man.
The doctrine of retribution indeed hardly seems an original
part of the doctrine of the future life. On the contrary, if
we judge that men in a primitive state of culture arrived at
the notion of a surviving spirit, and that some races, but by
no means all, afterwards reached the further stage of recognizing
a retribution for deeds done in the body, this
theory will not, so far as I know, be discountenanced by
facts.[#] Even among the higher savages, however, a connexion
// File: 092.png
.pn +1
between man’s life and his happiness or misery after
death is often held as a definite article of theology, and
thence it is to be traced onward through barbaric religions,
and into the very heart of Christianity. Yet the grounds
of good and evil in the future life are so far from uniform
among the religions of the world, that they may differ
widely within what is considered one and the same creed.
The result is more definite than the cause, the end than the
means. Men who alike look forward to a region of unearthly
happiness beyond the grave, hope to reach that
happy land by roads so strangely different, that the path of
life which leads one nation to eternal bliss may seem to the
next the very descent into the pit. In noticing among
savage and barbaric peoples the qualifications which determine
future happiness, we may with some distinctness
define these as being excellence, valour, social rank, religious
ordinance. On the whole, however, in the religions
of the lower range of culture, unless where they may have
been affected by contact with higher religions, the destiny
of the man after death seems hardly to turn on judicial
reward or punishment for his moral conduct in life. Such
difference as is made between the future conditions of
different classes of souls, seems more often to belong to a
remarkable intermediate doctrine, standing between the
earlier continuance-theory and the later retribution-theory.
The idea of the next life being similar to this seems to have
developed into the idea that what gives prosperity and renown
here will give it also there, so that earthly conditions
carry on their contrasts into the changed world after death.
Thus a man’s condition after death will be a result of,
rather than a compensation or retribution for, his condition
during life. A comparison of doctrines held at various
stages of culture may justify a tentative speculation as to
their actual sequence in history, favouring the opinion that
// File: 093.png
.pn +1
through such an intermediate stage the doctrine of simple
future existence was actually developed into the doctrine of
future reward and punishment, a transition which for deep
import to human life has scarcely its rival in the history of
religion.

The effect of earthly rank on the future life, as looked at
by the lower races, brings out this intermediate stage in
bold relief. Mere transfer from one life to another makes
chiefs and slaves here chiefs and slaves hereafter, and this
natural doctrine is very usual. But there are cases in
which earthly caste is exaggerated into utter difference in
the life to come. The aerial paradise of Raiatea, with its
fragrant ever-blooming flowers, its throngs of youths and
girls all perfection, its luxurious feasts and merrymakings,
were for the privileged orders of Areois and chiefs who
could pay the priests their heavy charges, but hardly for the
common populace. This idea reached its height in the
Tonga islands, where aristocratic souls would pass to take
their earthly rank and station in the island paradise of
Bolotu, while plebeian souls, if indeed they existed, would
die with the plebeian bodies they dwelt in.[#] In Vancouver’s
Island, the Ahts fancied Quawteaht’s calm sunny plenteous
land in the sky as the resting-place of high chiefs, who live
in one great house as the Creator’s guests, while the slain
in battle have another to themselves. But otherwise all
Indians of low degree go deep down under the earth to the
land of Chay-her, with its poor houses and no salmon and
small deer, and blankets so small and thin that when the
dead are buried the friends often bury blankets with them,
to send them to the world below with the departed soul.[#]
The expectation of royal dignity in the life after death, distinct
from the fate of ordinary mortals, comes well into view
among the Natchez of Louisiana, where the sun-descended
royal family would in some way return to the Sun; thus
// File: 094.png
.pn +1
also in the mightier empire of Peru, where each sun-descended
Inca, feeling the approach of death, announced
to his assembled vassals that he was called to heaven to rest
with his father the Sun.[#] But in the higher religions, the
change in this respect from the doctrine of continuance to
the doctrine of retribution is wonderful in its completeness.
The story of that great lady who strengthened her hopes of
future happiness by the assurance, ‘They will think twice
before they refuse a person of my condition,’ is a mere jest
to modern ears. Yet, like many other modern jest, it is
only an archaism which in an older stage of culture had in
it nothing ridiculous.

To the happy land of Torngarsuk the Great Spirit, says
Cranz, only such Greenlanders came as have been valiant
workers, for other ideas of virtue they have none; such as
have done great deeds, taken many whales and seals, borne
much hardship, been drowned at sea, or died in childbirth.[#]
Thus Charlevoix says of the Indians further south, that
their claim to hunt after death on the prairies of eternal
spring is to have been good hunters and warriors here.
Lescarbot, speaking of the belief among the Indians of
Virginia that after death the good will be at rest and the
wicked in pain, remarks that their enemies are the wicked
and themselves the good, so that in their opinion they are
after death much at their ease, and principally when they
have well defended their country and slain their enemies.[#]
So Jean de Lery said of the rude Tubinambas of Brazil,
that they think the souls of such as have lived virtuously,
that is to say, who have well avenged themselves and eaten
many of their enemies, will go behind the great mountains
and dance in beautiful gardens with the souls of their
fathers, but the souls of the effeminate and worthless, who
// File: 095.png
.pn +1
have not striven to defend their country, will go to Aygnan
the Evil Spirit, to incessant torments.[#] More characteristic
and probably more genuinely native than most of these
expectations, is that of the Caribs, that the braves of their
nation should go after death to happy islands, where all
good fruits grow wild, there to spend their time in dancing
and feasting, and to have their enemies the Arawaks for
slaves; but the cowards who feared to go to war should go
to serve the Arawaks, dwelling in their waste and barren
lands beyond the mountains.[#]

The fate of warriors slain in battle is the subject of two
singularly contrasted theories. We have elsewhere examined
the deep-lying belief that if a man’s body be
wounded or mutilated, his soul will arrive in the same state
in the other world. Perhaps it is some such idea of the
soul being injured with the body by a violent death, that
leads the Mintira of the Malay Peninsula, though not
believing in a future reward and punishment, to exclude
from the happy paradise of ‘Fruit Island’ (Pulo Bua) the
souls of such as die a bloody death, condemning them to
dwell on ‘Red Land’ (Tana Mera), a desolate barren
place, whence they must even go to the fortunate island to
fetch their food.[#] In North America, the idea is mentioned
among the Hurons that the souls of the slain in war live in
a band apart, neither they nor suicides being admitted to
the spirit-villages of their tribe. A belief ascribed to certain
Indians of California may be cited here, though less as a
sample of real native doctrine than to illustrate that borrowing
of Christian ideas which so often spoils such evidence
for ethnological purposes. They held, it is said, that
Niparaya, the Great Spirit, hates war, and will have no
warriors in his paradise, but that his adversary Wac, shut
up for rebellion in a great cave, takes thither to himself the
// File: 096.png
.pn +1
slain in battle.[#] On the other hand, the thought which shows
out in such bold relief in the savage mind, that courage is
virtue, and battle and bloodshed the hero’s noblest pursuit,
leads naturally to a hope of glory for his soul when his
body has been slain in fight. Such expectation was not
strange in North America, to that Indian tribe, for instance,
who talked of the Great Spirit walking in the moonlight on
his island in Lake Superior, whither slain warriors will go
to him to take their pleasure in the chace.[#] The Nicaraguans
declared that men who died in their houses went
underground, but the slain in war went to serve the gods in
the east, where the sun comes from. This corresponds in
part with a remarkable threefold contrast of the future
life among their Aztec kinsfolk. Mictlan, the Hades of the
general dead, and Tlalocan, the Earthly Paradise, reached
by certain special and acute ways of death, have been
mentioned here already. But the souls of warriors slain in
battle or sacrificed as captives, and of women who died in
child-birth, were transported to the heavenly plains; there
the heroes, peeping through the holes in their bucklers
pierced by arrows in earthly fight, watched the Sun arise and
saluted him with shout and clash of arms, and at noon the
mothers received him with music and dance to escort him
on his western way.[#] In such wise, to the old Norseman,
to die the ‘straw-death’ of sickness or old age was to go
down into the dismal loathly house of Hela the Death-goddess;
if the warrior’s fate on the field of battle were
denied him, and death came to fetch him from a peaceful
couch, yet at least he could have the scratch of the spear,
Odin’s mark, and so contrive to go with a blood-stained
soul to the glorious Walhalla. Surely then if ever, says a
// File: 097.png
.pn +1
modern writer, the kingdom of heaven suffered violence,
and the violent took it by force.[#] Thence we follow the
idea onward to the battle-fields of holy war, where the
soldier earned with his blood the unfading crown of martyrdom,
and Christian and Moslem were urged in mutual onset
and upheld in agony by the glimpse of paradise opening to
receive the slayer of the infidel.

Such ideas, current among the lower races as to the
soul’s future happiness or misery, do not seem, setting
aside some exceptional points, to be thoughts adopted or
degraded from doctrines of cultured nations. They rather
belong to the intellectual stratum in which they are found.
If so, we must neither ignore nor exaggerate their standing
in the lower ethics. ‘The good are good warriors and
hunters,’ said a Pawnee chief; whereupon the author who
mentions the saying remarks that this would also be the
opinion of a wolf, if he could express it.[#] Nevertheless,
if experience has led societies of savage men to fix on
certain qualities, such as courage, skill, and industry, as
being virtues, then many moralists will say that such a
theory is not only ethical, but lying at the very foundation
of ethics. And if these savage societies further conclude
that such virtues obtain their reward in another world
as in this, then their theories of future happiness and
misery, destined for what they call good and bad men, may
be looked on in this sense as belonging to morality,
though at no high stage of development. But many or
most writers, when they mention morality, assume a
narrower definition of it. This must be borne in mind in
appreciating what is meant by the statements of several
well-qualified ethnologists, who have, in more or less degree,
denied a moral character to the future retribution as conceived
in savage religion. Mr. Ellis, describing the Society
Islanders, at least gives an explicit definition. When he
tried to ascertain whether they connected a person’s condition
// File: 098.png
.pn +1
in a future state with his disposition and conduct in
this, he never could learn that they expected in the world
of spirits any difference in the treatment of a kind, generous,
peaceful man, and that of a cruel, parsimonious,
quarrelsome one.[#] This remark, it seems to me, applies to
savage religion far and wide. Dr. Brinton, commenting on
the native religions of America, draws his line in a somewhat
different place. Nowhere, he says, was any well-defined
doctrine that moral turpitude was judged and
punished in the next world. No contrast is discoverable
between a place of torments and a realm of joy; at the
worst but a negative castigation awaited the liar, the coward,
or the niggard.[#] Professor <abbr rend=spell>J. G.</abbr> Müller, in his ‘American
Religions,’ yet more pointedly denies any ‘ethical meaning’
in the contrasts of the savage future life, and looks upon
what he well calls its ‘light-side’ and ‘shadow-side’ not
as recompensing earthly virtue and vice, but rather as
carrying on earthly conditions in a new existence.[#]

The idea that admission to the happier region depends
on the performance of religious rites and the giving of
offerings, seems scarcely known to the lowest savages. It
is worth while, however, to notice some statements which
seem to mark its appearance at the level of high savagery
or low barbarism. Thus in the Society Islands, though
the destiny of man’s spirit to the region of night or to
elysium was irrespective of moral character, we hear of
neglect of rites and offerings as being visited by the displeasure
of deities.[#] In Florida, the belief of the Sun-worshipping
people of Achalaque was thus described: those
who had lived well, and well served the Sun, and given
many gifts to the poor in his honour, would be happy after
// File: 099.png
.pn +1
death and be changed into stars, whereas the wicked would
be carried to a destitute and wretched existence among
mountain precipices, where fierce wild beasts have their
dens.[#] According to Bosman, the souls of Guinea negroes
reaching the river of death must answer to the divine judge
how they have lived; have they religiously observed the
holy days dedicated to their god, have they abstained from
all forbidden meats and kept their vows inviolate, they are
wafted across to paradise; but if they have sinned against
these laws they are plunged in the river and there drowned
for ever.[#] Such statements among peoples at these stages
of culture are not frequent, and perhaps not very valid as
accounts of original native doctrine. It is in the elaborate
religious systems of more organized nations, in modern
Brahmanism and Buddhism, and degraded forms of Christianity,
that the special adaptation of the doctrine of retribution
to the purposes of priestcraft and ceremonialism
has become a commonplace of missionary reports.

It is well not to speak too positively on a subject so
difficult and doubtful as this of the history of the belief in
future retribution. Careful criticism of the evidence is
above all necessary. For instance, we have to deal with
several statements recorded among low races, explicitly
assigning reward or punishment to men after death, according
as they were good or bad in life. Here the first thing
to be done is to clear up, if possible, the question whether
the doctrine of retribution may have been borrowed from
some more cultured neighbouring religion, as the very details
often show to have been the case. Examples of direct
adoption of foreign dogmas on this subject are not uncommon
in the world. When among the Dayaks of Borneo
it is said that a dead man becomes a spirit and lives in the
jungle, or haunts the place of burial or burning, or when
some distant mountain-top is pointed to as the abode of
spirits of departed friends, it is hardly needful to question
// File: 100.png
.pn +1
the originality of ideas so characteristically savage. But
one of these Dayak tribes, burning the dead, says that ‘as
the smoke of the funeral pile of a good man rises, the soul
ascends with it to the sky, and that the smoke from the
pile of a wicked man descends, and his soul with it is borne
down to the earth, and through it to the regions below.’[#]
Did not this exceptional idea come into the Dayak’s mind
by contact with Hinduism? In Orissa, again, Khond souls
have to leap across the black unfathomable river to gain a
footing on the slippery Leaping Rock, where Dinga Pennu,
the judge of the dead, sits writing his register of all men’s
daily lives and actions, sending virtuous souls to become
blessed spirits, keeping back wicked ones and sending them
to suffer their penalties in new births on earth.[#] Here the
striking myth of the leaping rock is perfectly savage, but
the ideas of a judgment, moral retribution, and transmigration,
may have come from the Hindus of the plains, as the
accompanying notion of the written book unquestionably
did. Dr. Mason is no doubt right in taking as the indigenous
doctrine of the Karens their notion of an under-world
where the ghosts of the dead live on as here, while
he sets down to Hindu influence the idea of Tha-ma, the
judge of the dead (the Hindu Yama), as allotting their fate
according to their lives, sending those who have done deeds
of merit to heaven, those who have done wickedness to hell,
and keeping in Hades the neither good nor bad.[#] How the
theory of moral retribution may be superposed on more
primitive doctrines of the future life, comes remarkably into
view in Turanian religion. Among the Lapps, Jabme-Aimo,
the subterranean ‘home of the dead’ below the earth,
where the departed have their cattle and follow their livelihood
like Lapps above, though they are richer, wiser,
// File: 101.png
.pn +1
stronger folk, and also Saivo-Aimo, a yet happier ‘home of
the gods,’ are conceptions thoroughly in the spirit of the
lower culture. But in one account the subterranean abode
becomes a place of transition, where the dead stay awhile,
and then with bodies renewed are taken up to the Heaven-god,
or if misdoers, are flung into the abyss. Castrén is
evidently right in rejecting this doctrine as not native, but
due to Catholic influence. So, at the end of the <abbr=sixteenth>16th</abbr> Rune
of the Finnish Kalewala, which tells of Wainamoinen’s visit
to the dismal land of the dead, there is put into the hero’s
mouth a second speech, warning the children of men to
harm not the innocent, for sad payment is in Tuoni’s dwelling—the
bed of evil-doers is there, with its glowing red-hot
stones below and its canopy of snakes above. But the same
critic condemns this moral ‘tag,’ as a later addition to the
genuine heathen picture of Manala, the under-world of the
dead.[#] Nor did Christianity scorn to borrow details from
the religions it abolished. The narrative of a mediæval
visit to the other world would be incomplete without its
description of the awful Bridge of Death; Acheron and
Charon’s bark were restored to their places in Tartarus by
the visionary and the poet; the wailing of sinful souls
might be heard as they were hammered white-hot in Vulcan’s
smithies; and the weighing of good and wicked souls, as we
may see it figured on every Egyptian mummy-case, now
passed into the charge of <abbr=Saint>St.</abbr> Paul and the Devil.[#]

The foregoing considerations having been duly weighed,
it remains to call attention to the final problem, at what
state of religious history the full theological doctrine of
judicial retribution and moral compensation in a future life
may have arisen. It is hard, however, to define where this
development takes place even at a barbaric stage of culture.
Thus among the barbaric nations of West Africa, there
// File: 102.png
.pn +1
appear such beliefs as that in Nuffi, that criminals who
escape their punishment here will receive it in the other
world; the division of the Yoruba under-world into an
upper and a lower region for the righteous and wicked; the
Kru doctrine that only the good will rejoin their ancestors
in heaven; the Oji doctrine that only the good will dwell
after death in the heavenly house or city of the Deity whom
they call the ‘Highest.’[#] How far is all this to be taken
as native conception, and how far as due to ages of Christian
and Moslem intercourse, to which at any rate few will
scruple to refer the last case?

In the lower ranges of civilization, some of the most remarkable
doctrines of this class are recorded in North
America. Thus they appear in connexion with the fancy
of a river or gulf to be passed by the departing soul on its
way to the land of the dead, one of the most remarkable
traits of the mythology of the world. This seems in its
origin a nature-myth, connected probably with the Sun’s
passage across the sea into Hades, and in many of its
versions it appears as a mere episode of the soul’s journey
without any moral sense attached to it. Brebeuf, the same
early Jesuit missionary who says explicitly of the Hurons
that there is no difference in their future life between the
fate of the virtuous and the vicious, mentions also among
them the tree-trunk that bridges the river of death; here
the dead must cross, the dog that guards it attacks some
souls, and they fall. Yet in other versions this myth has a
moral sense attached to it, and the passage of the heaven-gulf
becomes an ordeal to separate good and wicked. To
take but one instance, there is Catlin’s account of the
Choctaw souls journeying far westward, to whom the long
slippery barkless pine-log, stretching from hill to hill,
bridges over the deep and dreadful river; the good pass
safely to a beauteous Indian paradise, the wicked fall into
the abyss of waters, and go the dark hungry wretched
// File: 103.png
.pn +1
land where they are henceforth to dwell.[#] This and many
similar beliefs current in the religions of the world, which
need not be particularised here, seem best explained as
originally nature-myths, afterwards adapted to a religious
purpose. A different conception was recorded so early as
1623, by Captain John Smith among the Massachusetts,
whose name is still borne by the New England district they
once inhabited: They say, at first there was no king but
Kiehtan, that dwelleth far westerly above the heavens,
whither all good men go when they die, and have plenty of
all things. The bad men go thither also and knock at the
door, but he bids them go wander in endless want and
misery, for they shall not stay there.[#] Lastly, the Salish
Indians of Oregon say that the good go to a happy hunting-ground
of endless game, while the bad go to a place where
there is eternal snow, hunger, and thirst, and are tantalised
by the sight of game they cannot kill, and water they cannot
drink.[#] If, now, in looking at these records, the doubts
which beset them can be put aside, and the accounts of the
different fates assigned to the good and wicked can be
accepted as belonging to genuine native American religion
and if, moreover, it be considered that the goodness and
wickedness for which men are to be thus rewarded and
punished are moral qualities, however undeveloped in definition,
this will amount to an admission that the doctrine
of moral retribution at any rate appears within the range of
savage theology. Such a view, however, by no means invalidates
the view here put forward as to the historical development
of the doctrine, but only goes to prove at how early
a stage it may have begun to take place. The general mass
of evidence still remains to show the savage doctrine of the
future state, as originally involving no moral retribution,
// File: 104.png
.pn +1
or arriving at this through transitional and rudimentary
stages.

In strong contrast with the schemes of savage future
existence, I need but set before the reader’s mind a salient
point here and there in the doctrine of distinct and unquestionable
moral retribution, as held in religions of the higher
culture. The inner mystic doctrines of ancient Egypt may
perhaps never be extracted now from the pictures and
hieroglyphic formulas of the ‘Book of the Dead.’ But the
ethnographer may satisfy himself of two important points
as to the place which the Egyptian view of the future life
occupies in the history of religion. On the one hand, the
soul’s quitting and revisiting the corpse, the placing of the
image in the tomb, the offering of meat and drink, the
fearful journey to the regions of the departed, the renewed
life like that on earth, with its houses to dwell in and fields
to cultivate—all these are conceptions which connect the
Egyptian religion with the religions of the ruder races of
mankind. But on the other hand, the mixed ethical and
ceremonial standard by which the dead are to be judged
adapts these primitive and even savage thoughts to a higher
social development, such as may be shown by fragments
from that remarkable ‘negative confession’ which the
dead must make before Osiris and the forty-two judges in
Amenti. ‘O ye Lords of Truth! let me know you!...
Rub ye away my faults. I have not privily done
evil against mankind.... I have not told falsehoods
in the tribunal of Truth.... I have not done any
wicked thing. I have not made the labouring man do more
than his task daily.... I have not calumniated the
slave to his master.... I have not murdered....
I have not done fraud to men. I have not changed
measures of the country. I have not injured the images of
the gods. I have not taken scraps of the bandages of the
dead. I have not committed adultery. I have not withheld
milk from the mouths of sucklings. I have not
hunted wild animals in the pasturages. I have not netted
// File: 105.png
.pn +1
sacred birds.... I am pure! I am pure! I am
pure!’[#]

The Vedic hymns, again, tell of endless happiness for
the good in heaven with the gods, and speak also of the
deep pit where the liars, the lawless, they who give no
sacrifice, will be cast.[#] The rival theories of continuance
and retribution are seen in instructive coexistence in classic
Greece and Rome. What seems the older belief holds its
ground in the realm of Hades; that dim region of bodiless,
smoke-like ghosts remains the home of the undistinguished
crowd in the <lang=grc>μέσος βίος</lang>, the ‘middle life.’ Yet at the
same time the judgment-seat of Minos and Rhadamanthos,
the joys of Elysium for the just and good, fiery Tartarus
echoing with the wail of the wicked, represent the newer
doctrine of a moral retribution. The idea of purgatorial
suffering, which hardly seems to have entered the minds of
the lower races, expands in immense vigour in the great
Aryan religions of Asia. In Brahmanism and Buddhism,
the working out of good and evil actions into their necessary
consequence of happiness and misery is the very key
to the philosophy of life, whether life’s successive transmigrations
be in animal, or human, or demon births on earth,
or in luxurious heaven-palaces of gold and jewels, or in the
agonizing hells where Oriental fancy riots in the hideous
inventory of torture—caldrons of boiling oil and liquid fire;
black dungeons and rivers of filth; vipers, and vultures,
and cannibals; thorns, and spears, and red-hot pincers, and
whips of flame. To the modern Hindu, it is true, ceremonial
morality seems to take the upper hand, and the
question of happiness or misery after death turns rather
on ablutions and fasts, on sacrifices and gifts to brahmans,
than on purity and beneficence of life. Buddhism in
South East Asia, sadly degenerate from its once high
// File: 106.png
.pn +1
estate, is apt to work out the doctrine of merit and demerit
into debtor and creditor accounts kept in good and
bad marks from day to day; to serve out so much tea in
hot weather counts 1 to the merit-side, and putting a
stop to one’s women scolding for a month counts 1 likewise,
but this may be balanced by the offence of letting
them keep the bowls and plates dirty for a day, which
counts 1 the wrong way; and it appears that giving wood
for two coffins, which count 30 marks each, and burying
four bones, at 10 marks a-piece, would just be balanced
by murdering a child, which counts 100 to the bad.[#] It
need hardly be said here that these two great religions of
Asia must be judged rather in their records of long past
ages, than in the lingering degeneration of their modern
reality.

In the Khordah-Avesta, a document of the old Persian
religion, the fate of good and wicked souls at death is pictured
in a dialogue between Zarathustra (Zoroaster), and
Ahura-Mazda and Anra-Mainyu (Ormuzd and Ahriman).
Zarathustra asks,’Ahura-Mazda, Heavenly, Holiest, Creator
of the corporeal world, Pure! When a pure man dies,
where does his soul dwell during this night?’ Then
answers Ahura-Mazda: ‘Near his head it sits down, reciting
the Gâthâ Ustavaiti, praying happiness for itself;
“Happiness be to the man who conduces to the happiness of
each. May Ahura-Mazda create, ruling after his wish.”’ On
this night the soul sees as much joyfulness as the whole
living world possesses; and so the second and the third night.
When the lapse of the third night turns itself to light, then
the soul of the pure man goes forward, recollecting itself by
the perfume of plants. A wind blows to meet it from the
mid-day regions, a sweet-scented one, more sweet-scented
than the other winds, and the soul of the pure man receives
it—‘Whence blows this wind, the sweetest-scented which I
ever have smelt with the nose?’ Then comes to meet him
// File: 107.png
.pn +1
his own law (his rule of life) in the figure of a maiden
beautiful, shining, with shining arms, powerful, well-grown,
slender, large-bosomed, with praiseworthy body, noble, with
brilliant face, one of fifteen years, as fair in her growth as
the fairest creatures. Then to her speaks the soul of the
pure man, asking, ‘What maiden art thou whom I have
seen here as the fairest of maidens in body?’ She answers,
‘I am, O youth, thy good thoughts, words, and works, thy
good law, the own law of thine own body. Thou hast
made the pleasant yet pleasanter to me, the fair yet fairer,
the desirable yet more desirable, the sitting in a high place
sitting in a yet higher place.’ Then the soul of the pure
man takes the first step and comes to the first paradise, the
second and third step to the second and third paradise,
the fourth step and arrives at the Eternal Lights. To the
soul speaks a pure one deceased before, asking it, ‘How
art thou, O pure deceased, come away from the fleshly
dwellings, from the corporeal world hither to the invisible,
from the perishable world hither to the imperishable. Hail!
has it happened to thee long?’ ‘Then speaks Ahura-Mazda:
“Ask not him whom thou askest, for he is come
on the fearful way of trembling, the separation of body and
soul. Bring him hither of the food, of the full fatness, that
is the food for a youth who thinks, speaks, and does good,
who is devoted to the good law after death—that is the food
for a woman who especially thinks good, speaks good, does
good, the following, obedient, pure after death.”’ And
now Zarathustra asks, when a wicked one dies, where his
soul dwells? He is told how, running about near the head,
it utters the prayer, Ke maúm:—‘Which land shall I
praise, whither shall I go praying, O Ahura-Mazda?’
In this night it sees as much unjoyfulness as the whole
living world; and so the second and the third night, and it
goes at dawn to the impure place, recollecting itself by the
stench. An evil-smelling wind comes towards the dead from
the north, and with it the ugly hateful maiden who is his
own wicked deeds, and the soul takes the fourth step into
// File: 108.png
.pn +1
the darkness without beginning, and a wicked soul asks
how long—woe to thee!—art thou come? and the mocking
Anra-Mainyu, answering in words like the words of Ahura-Mazda
to the good, bids food to be brought—poison, and
mixed with poison, for them who think and speak and do
evil, and follow the wicked law. The Parsi of our own
time, following in obscure tradition the ancient Zoroastrian
faith, before he prays for forgiveness for all that he ought
to have thought, and said, and done, and has not, for all
that he ought not to have thought, and said, and done, and
has, confesses thus his faith of the future life:—‘I am
wholly without doubt in the existence of the good Mazadayaçnian
faith, in the coming of the resurrection and the
later body, in the stepping over the bridge Chinvat, in an
invariable recompense of good deeds and their reward, and
of bad deeds and their punishment.’[#]

In Jewish theology, the doctrine of future retribution
appears after the Babylonish captivity, not in ambiguous
terms, but as the strongly-expressed and intensely-felt
religious conviction it has since remained among the children
of Israel. Not long afterward, it received the sanction
of Christianity.

A broad survey of the doctrine of the Future Life among
the various nations of the world shows at once how difficult
and how important is a systematic theory of its development.
Looked at ethnographically, the general relations
of the lower to the higher culture as to the belief in future
existence may be defined somewhat as follows:—If we draw
a line dividing civilization at the junction of savagery and
barbarism—about where the Carib and New Zealander ends
and the Aztec or Tatar begins, we may see clearly the
difference of prevalent doctrine on either side. On the
savage side, the theory of hovering ghosts is strong, rebirth
in human or animal bodies is often thought of, but
above all there prevails the expectation of a new life, most
// File: 109.png
.pn +1
often located in some distant earthly region, or less commonly
in the under-world or on the sky. On the cultured
side, the theory of hovering ghosts continues, but tends to
subside from philosophy into folklore, the theory of re-birth
is elaborated into great philosophic systems, but eventually
dies out under the opposition of scientific biology, while
the doctrine of a new life after death maintains its place
with immense power in the human mind, although the dead
have been ousted by geography from any earthly district,
and the regions of heaven and hell are more and more
spiritualized out of definite locality into vague expressions
of future happiness and misery. Again, on the savage side
we find the dominant idea to be a continuance of the soul
in a new existence, like the present life, or idealized and
exaggerated on its model; while on the cultured side the
doctrine of judgment and moral retribution prevails with
paramount, though not indeed absolute sway. What, then,
has been the historical course of theological opinion, to
have produced in different stages of culture these contrasted
phases of doctrine?

In some respects, theories deriving savage from more
civilized ideas are tenable. In certain cases, to consider a
particular savage doctrine of the future state as a fragmentary,
or changed, or corrupted outcome of the religion of
higher races, seems as easy as to reverse this view by taking
savagery as representing the starting-point. It is open to
anyone to suppose that the doctrine of transmigration
among American savages and African barbarians may have
been degraded from elaborate systems of metempsychosis
established among philosophic nations like the Hindus;
that the North American and South African doctrine of
continued existence in a subterranean world may be derived
from similar beliefs held by races at the level of the ancient
Greeks; that when rude tribes in the Old or New World
assign among the dead a life of happiness to some, and of
misery to others, this idea may have been inherited or
adopted from cultured nations holding more strongly and
// File: 110.png
.pn +1
systematically the doctrine of retribution. In such cases
the argument is to a great extent the same, whether the
lower race be considered degenerate descendants of a higher
nation, or whether the simpler supposition be put forward
that they have adopted the ideas of some more cultured
people. These views ought to have full attention, for degenerate
and borrowed beliefs form no small item in the
opinions of uncivilized races. Yet this kind of explanation
is more adapted to meet special cases than general conditions;
it is rather suited to piecemeal treatment, than to
comprehensive study, of the religions of mankind. Worked
out on a large scale, it would endeavour to account for
the doctrines of the savage world, as being a patchwork of
fragments from various religions of high nations, transported
by not easily-conceived means from their distant
homes and set down in remote regions of the earth. It
may be safely said that no hypothesis can account for the
varied doctrines current among the lower tribes, without the
admission that religious ideas have been in no small measure
developed and modified in the districts where they are
current.

Now this theory of development, in its fullest scope,
combined with an accessory theory of degeneration and
adoption, seems best to meet the general facts of the case.
A hypothesis which finds the origin of the doctrine of the
future life in the primitive animism of the lower races, and
thence traces it along the course of religious thought, in
varied developments fitted to exacter knowledge and forming
part of loftier creeds, may well be maintained as in reasonable
accordance with the evidence. Such a theory, as has
been sufficiently shown in the foregoing chapters, affords a
satisfactory explanation of the occurrence, in the midst of
cultured religions, of intellectually low superstitions, such
as that of offerings to the dead, and various others. These,
which the development theory treats naturally as survivals
from a low stage of education lingering on in a higher, are
by no means so readily accounted for by the degeneration
// File: 111.png
.pn +1
theory. There are more special arguments which favour
the priority of the savage to the civilized phases of the
doctrine of a future life. If savages did in general receive
their views of another existence from the religious systems
of cultured nations, these systems can hardly have been
such as recognize the dominant doctrines of heaven and
hell. For, as to the locality of the future world, savage
races especially favour a view little represented in civilized
belief, namely, that the life to come is in some distant
earthly country. Moreover, the belief in a fiery abyss or
Gehenna, which excites so intensely and lays hold so firmly
of the imagination of the most ignorant men, would have
been especially adapted to the minds of savages, had it
come down to them by tradition from an ancestral faith.
Yet, in fact, the lower races so seldom recognize such an
idea, that even the few cases in which it occurs lie open to
suspicion of not being purely native. The proposition that
the savage doctrines descend from the more civilized seems
thus to involve the improbable supposition, that tribes
capable of keeping up traditions of Paradise, Heaven, or
Hades, should nevertheless have forgotten or discarded a
tradition of Hell. Still more important is the contrast
between the continuance-theory and the retribution-theory
of the future existence, in the sections of culture where
they respectively predominate. On the one hand, the continuance-theory,
with its ideas of a ghostly life like this, is
directly vouched for by the evidence of the senses in dreams
and visions of the dead, and may be claimed as part of the
‘Natural Religion,’ properly so called, of the lower races.
On the other hand, the retribution-theory is a dogma which
this evidence of apparitions could hardly set on foot, though
capable of afterwards supporting it. Throughout the present
study of animistic religion, it constantly comes into
view that doctrines which in the lower culture are philosophical,
tend in the higher to become ethical; that what
among savages is a science of nature, passes among civilized
nations into a moral engine. Herein lies the distinction
// File: 112.png
.pn +1
of deepest import between the two great theories of the
soul’s existence after bodily death. According to a development
theory of culture, the savage, unethical doctrine
of continuance would be taken as the more primitive, succeeded
in higher civilization by the ethical doctrine of
retribution. Now this theory of the course of religion in
the distant and obscure past is conformable with experience
of its actual history, so far as this lies within our knowledge.
Whether we compare the early Greek with the later
Greek, the early Jew with the later Jew, the ruder races
of the world in their older condition with the same races as
affected by the three missionary religions of Buddhism,
Mohammedanism, Christianity, the testimony of history
vouches for the like transition towards ethical dogma.

In conclusion, though theological argument on the actual
validity of doctrines relating to the future life can have no
place here, it will be well not to pass by without further
remark one great practical question which lies fairly within
the province of Ethnography. How, in the various stages
of culture, has the character and conduct of the living been
affected by the thought of a life to come? If we take the
savage beliefs as a starting-point, it will appear that these
belong rather to speculative philosophy than to practical rule
of life. The lower races hold opinions as to a future state
because they think them true, but it is not surprising that
men who take so little thought of a contingency three days
off, should receive little practical impulse from vague anticipations
of a life beyond the grave. Setting aside the consideration
of possible races devoid of all thought of a
future existence, there unquestionably has been and is a
great mass of mankind whose lives are scarcely affected by
such expectations of another life as they do hold. The
doctrine of continuance, making death as it were a mere
journey into a new country, can have little direct action on
men’s conduct, though indirectly it has indeed an enormous
and disastrous influence on society, leading as it does to the
slaughter of wives and slaves, and the destruction of property,
// File: 113.png
.pn +1
for the use of the dead in the next world. If this
world to come be thought a happier region, the looking forward
to it makes men more willing to risk their lives in
battle, promotes the habit of despatching the sick and aged
into a better life, and encourages suicide when life is very
hateful here. When the half-way house between continuance
and retribution is reached, and the idea prevails that the
manly virtues which give rank and wealth and honour here
will lead hereafter to yet brighter glory, then this belief
must add new force to the earthly motives which make bold
warriors and mighty chiefs. But among men who expect to
become hovering ghosts at death, or to depart to some
gloomy land of shades, such expectation strengthens the
natural horror and hatred of dissolution. They tend toward
the state of mind frequent among modern Africans,
whose thought of death is that he shall drink no more rum,
wear no more fine clothes, have no more wives. The negro
of our own day would feel to the utmost the sense of those
lines in the beginning of the Iliad, which describe the heroes’
‘souls’ being cast down to Hades, but ‘themselves’ left a
prey to dogs and carrion birds.

Rising to the level of the higher races, we mark the
thought of future existence taking a larger and larger place
in the convictions of religion, the expectation of a judgment
after death gaining in intensity and becoming, what it
scarcely seems to the savage, a real motive in life. Yet this
change is not to be measured as proceeding throughout in
any direct proportion with the development of culture. The
doctrine of the future life has hardly taken deeper and
stronger root in the higher than in the middle levels of
civilization. In the language of ancient Egypt, it is the
dead who are emphatically called the ‘living,’ for their life
is everlasting, whether in the world of the departed, or
nearer home in the tomb, the ‘eternal dwelling.’ The
Moslem says that men sleep in life and wake in death;
the Hindu likens the body which a soul has quitted to the
bed he rises from in the morning. The story of the ancient
// File: 114.png
.pn +1
Getæ, who wept at births and laughed at funerals, embodies
an idea of the relation of this life to the next which comes
to the surface again and again in the history of religion,
nowhere perhaps touched in with a lighter hand than in
the Arabian Nights’ tale where Abdallah of the Sea indignantly
breaks off his friendship with Abdallah of the Land,
when he hears that the dwellers on the land do not feast and
sing when one of them dies, like the dwellers in the sea,
but mourn and weep and tear their garments. Such thoughts
lead on into the morbid asceticism that culminates in the
life of the Buddhist saint, eating his food with loathing
from the alms-bowl that he carries as though it held
medicine, wrapping himself in grave-clothes from the cemetery,
or putting on his disfigured robe as though it were a
bandage to cover a sore, whose looking forward is to death
for deliverance from the misery of life, whose dreamiest
hope is that after an inconceivable series of successive
existences he may find in utter dissolution and not-being a
refuge even from heaven.

The belief in future retribution has been indeed a powerful
engine in shaping the life of nations. Powerful both for
good and evil, it has been made the servant-of-all-work of
many faiths. Priesthoods have used it unscrupulously for
their professional ends, to gain wealth and power for their
own caste, to stop intellectual and social progress beyond
the barriers of their consecrated systems. On the banks of
the river of death, a band of priests has stood for ages to
bar the passage against all poor souls who cannot satisfy
their demands for ceremonies, and formulas, and fees. This
is the dark side of the picture. On the bright side, as we
study the moral standards of the higher nations, and see
how the hopes and fears of the life to come have been
brought to enforce their teachings, it is plain that through
most widely differing religions the doctrine of future judgment
has been made to further goodness and to check
wickedness, according to the shifting rules by which men
have divided right from wrong. The philosophic schools
// File: 115.png
.pn +1
which from classic times onward have rejected the belief in
a future existence, appear to have come back by a new road
to the very starting-point which perhaps the rudest races of
men never quitted. At least this seems true as regards the
doctrine of future retribution, which is alike absent from
the belief of classes of men at the two extremes of culture.
How far the moral standard of life may have been adjusted
throughout the higher races with reference to a life hereafter,
is a problem difficult of solution, so largely do unbelievers
in this second life share ethical principles which
have been more or less shaped under its influence. Men
who live for one world or for two, have high motives of
virtue in common; the noble self-respect which impels them
to the life they feel worthy of them; the love of goodness
for its own sake and for its immediate results; and beyond
this, the desire to do good that shall survive the doer, who
will not indeed be in the land of the living to see his work,
but who can yet discount his expectations into some measure
of present satisfaction. Yet he who believes that his thread
of life will be severed once and for ever by the fatal shears,
well knows that he wants a purpose and a joy in life, which
belong to him who looks for a life to come. Few men feel
real contentment in the expectation of vanishing out of conscious
existence, henceforth, like the great Buddha, to exist
only in their works. To remain incarnate in the memory of
friends is something. A few great spirits may enjoy in the
reverence of future ages a thousand years or so of ‘subjective
immortality;’ though as for mankind at large, the
individual’s personal interest hardly extends beyond those
who have lived in his time, while his own memory scarce
outlives the third and fourth generation. But over and
above these secular motives, the belief in immortality
extends its powerful influence through life, and culminates
at the last hour, when, setting aside the very evidence of
their senses, the mourners smile through their tears, and
say it is not death but life.

.fn #
Williams, ‘Fiji,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 239; Seemann, ‘Viti,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 398.
.fn-
.fn #
Arbousset and Daumas, <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 347; Casalis, <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 247.
.fn-
.fn #
Brasseur, ‘Mexique,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=three>iii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 20, &c.
.fn-
.fn #
See ‘The Buke of John Mandeuill,’ 31, edited by Geo. <abbr rend=spell>F.</abbr> Warner,
published by the Roxburghe Club, 1889; Yule, ‘Cathay,’ Hakluyt Soc.
(Note to <abbr=third>3rd</abbr> <abbr=edition>ed.</abbr>)
.fn-
.fn #
Wuttke, <lang=de>‘Volksaberglaube,’</lang> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 215. Other cases in Bastian, ‘Mensch,’
<abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 58, 369, &c.
.fn-
.fn #
Schoolcraft, ‘Algic Res.’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 32, 64, and see ante, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 312.
.fn-
.fn #
Steller, ‘Kamtschatka,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 271; Klemm, ‘<abbr rend=spell>C. G.</abbr>’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 312.
.fn-
.fn #
Kalewala, Rune <abbr=sixteen>xvi.</abbr>; see Schiefner’s German Translation, and Castrén,
‘Finn. Myth.’ <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 128, 134. A Slavonic myth in Hanusch, <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 412.
.fn-
.fn #
Homer. <abbr=Odyssey>Odyss.</abbr> <abbr=eleven>xi.</abbr> On the vivification of ghosts by sacrifice of blood,
and on libations of milk and blood, see Meiners, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 315, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 89;
<abbr rend=spell>J. G.</abbr> Müller, <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 85; Rochholz, <lang=de>‘Deutscher Glaube und Brauch,’</lang> <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 1,
&c.
.fn-
.fn #
See for example, various details in Bastian, ‘Mensch,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr>
369-75, &c.
.fn-
.fn #
See <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 481; also below, <abbr=page>p.</abbr> #52#, note. Tanner’s ‘Narr.’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 290;
Schoolcraft, ‘Indian Tribes,’ part <abbr=three>iii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 233; Keating, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 154;
Loskiel, part <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 35; Smith, ‘Virginia,’ in Pinkerton, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> xiii. <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 14. See
Cranz, ‘Grönland,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 269.
.fn-
.fn #
Callaway, ‘Zulu Tales,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 316-20.
.fn-
.fn #
Shortland, ‘Traditions of New Zealand,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 150; <abbr rend=spell>R.</abbr> Taylor, ‘New
Zealand,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 423. The idea, of which the classic representative belongs to
the myth of Persephone, that the living who tastes the food of the dead
may not return, and which is so clearly stated in this Maori story, appears
again among the Sioux of North America. Ahak-tah (‘Male Elk’) seems
to die, but after two days comes down from the funeral-scaffold where his
body had been laid, and tells his tale. His soul had travelled by the path of
braves through the beautiful land of great trees and gay loud-singing birds,
till he reached the river, and saw the homes of the spirits of his forefathers
on the shore beyond. Swimming across, he entered the nearest house, where
he found his uncle sitting in a corner. Very hungry, he noticed some wild
rice in a bark dish. ‘I asked my uncle for some rice to eat, but he did not
give it to me. Had I eaten of the food for spirits, I never should have
returned to earth.’ Eastman, ‘Dacotah,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 177.
.fn-
.fn #
Castrén, ‘Finn. Myth.’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 139, &c.
.fn-
.fn #
Bosman, ‘Guinea,’ Letter 19, in Pinkerton, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=sixteen>xvi.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 501; Burton,
‘Dahome,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 158. For modern visits to hell and heaven by Christianized
negro visionaries in America, see Macrae, ‘Americans at Home,’
<abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 91.
.fn-
.fn #
Lucian. Philopseudes, <abbr=chapter>c.</abbr> 17-28.
.fn-
.fn #
Plutarch. <lang=la>De Sera Numinis Vindicta</lang>, <abbr='twenty-two'>xxii.</abbr>; and in Euseb. <lang=la>Præp. Evang.</lang>
<abbr=eleven>xi.</abbr> 36.
.fn-
.fn #
Ward, ‘Hindoos,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 63.
.fn-
.fn #
Gregor. Dial. <abbr=four>iv.</abbr> 36. See Calmet, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=chapter>ch.</abbr> 49.
.fn-
.fn #
Augustin. Epist. <abbr='a hundred and sixty four'>clxiv.</abbr> 2.
.fn-
.fn #
See Pearson, ‘Exposition of the Creed;’ Bingham, ‘Ant. Ch. Ch.’
book <abbr=ten>x.</abbr> <abbr=chapter>ch.</abbr> <abbr=three>iii.</abbr> Art. <abbr=three>iii.</abbr> of the Church of England was reduced to its present
state by <abbr=Archbishop>Archbp.</abbr> Parker’s revision.
.fn-
.fn #
Codex Apocr. <abbr rend=spell>N. T.</abbr> Evang. Nicod. <abbr=editor>ed.</abbr> Giles. ‘Apocryphal Gospels,’ &c.
<abbr=translated>tr.</abbr> by <abbr rend=spell>A.</abbr> Walker; ‘Gospel of Nicodemus.’ The Greek and Latin texts differ
much.
.fn-
.fn #
The following details mostly from <abbr rend=spell>T.</abbr> Wright, ‘<abbr=Saint>St.</abbr> Patrick’s Purgatory’
(an elaborate critical dissertation on the mediæval legends of visits to the
other world).
.fn-
.fn #
<abbr=Saint>St.</abbr> John, ‘Far East,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 278. Rigg. in ‘Journ. Ind. Archip.’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr>
<abbr=four>iv.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 119. See also Ellis, ‘Polyn. Res.’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 397; Bastian, ‘Oestl.
Asien,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 83; Irving, ‘Astoria,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 142.
.fn-
.fn #
Molina, ‘Chili,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 89.
.fn-
.fn #
Brasseur, ‘Mexique,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=three>iii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 496; Sahagun, <abbr=three>iii.</abbr> App. <abbr=chapter>c.</abbr> 2, <abbr=ten>x.</abbr> <abbr=chapter>c.</abbr> 29;
Clavigero, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 5.
.fn-
.fn #
See Wright, <abbr rend=spell>l.c.</abbr> &c.; Alger, <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 391; &c.
.fn-
.fn #
‘History of Colon,’ <abbr=chapter>ch.</abbr> 61; Pet. Martyr. Dec. <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=liber>lib.</abbr> <abbr=nine>ix.</abbr>; Irving, ‘Life
of Columbus,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 121.
.fn-
.fn #
Stanbridge in ‘Tr. Eth. Soc.’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 299; <abbr rend=spell>G. F.</abbr> Moore, ‘Vocab. <abbr=West>W.</abbr>
Austr.’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 83; Bonwick, ‘Tasmanians,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 181.
.fn-
.fn #
Schoolcraft, ‘Indian Tribes,’ part <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 321; see part <abbr=three>iii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 229.
.fn-
.fn #
Mariner, ‘Tonga Is.’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 107. See also Burton, ‘<abbr rend=spell>W.</abbr> and <abbr rend=spell>W.</abbr> fr.
<abbr=west>W.</abbr> Africa,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 154 (Gold Coast).
.fn-
.fn #
Hesiod. Opera et Dies, Pindar, Olymp. <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> antistr. 4. Callistrat.
Hymn. in Ilgen, Scolia Græca, 10. Strabo, <abbr=three>iii.</abbr> 2, 13; Plin. <abbr=four>iv.</abbr> 36.
.fn-
.fn #
Loc. cit.
.fn-
.fn #
Procop. De Bello Goth. <abbr=four>iv.</abbr> 20; Plut. Fragm. Comm. in Hesiod. 2;
Grimm, ‘<abbr rend=spell>D. M.</abbr>’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 793; Hersart de Villemarqué, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 136; Souvestre,
‘Derniers Bretons,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 37; Jas. Macpherson, ‘Introd. to <abbr=History>Hist.</abbr> of Great
Britain and Ireland,’ <abbr=second>2nd</abbr> ed. London, 1772, <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 180; Wright, ‘<abbr=Saint>St.</abbr> Patrick’s
Purgatory,’ <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 64, 129.
.fn-
.fn #
Steller, ‘Kamtschatka,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 269.
.fn-
.fn #
Harmon, ‘Journal,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 299; see Lewis and Clarke, <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 139 (Mandans).
.fn-
.fn #
<abbr rend=spell>J. G.</abbr> Müller, ‘Amer. Urrelig.’ <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 140, 287; see Humboldt and Bonpland,
‘<abbr=Voyage>Voy.</abbr>’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=three>iii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 132; Falkner, ‘Patagonia,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 114.
.fn-
.fn #
Taylor, ‘New Zealand,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 232; Turner, ‘Polynesia,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 235.
.fn-
.fn #
Callaway, ‘Zulu Tales,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 317, &c.; Arbousset and Daumas,
<abbr=page>p.</abbr> 474. See also Burton, ‘Dahome,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 157.
.fn-
.fn #
Mason, ‘Karens,’ <abbr rend=spell>l.c.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 195; Cross, <abbr rend=spell>l.c.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 313. Turanian examples
in Castrén, ‘Finn. Myth.’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 119.
.fn-
.fn #
See below, <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> #79#, #85#.
.fn-
.fn #
Festus, <abbr rend=spell>s.v.</abbr> ‘manalis,’ &c.
.fn-
.fn #
Sophocl. Œdip. Tyrann. 178; Lucian. De Luctu, 2. See classic details
in Pauly, ‘Real-Encyclop.’ <abbr=article>art.</abbr> ‘inferi.’
.fn-
.fn #
Birch in Bunsen’s ‘Egypt,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=five>v.</abbr>; Wilkinson, ‘Ancient <abbr=Egypt>Eg.</abbr>’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr>
<abbr=page>p.</abbr> 368; Alger, <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 101.
.fn-
.fn #
Smith, ‘History of Virginia,’ in ‘Works’ <abbr=edited>ed.</abbr> by Arber; Pinkerton,
<abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=thirteen>xiii.</abbr> <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 14, 41; <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=twelve>xii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 604; see below, <abbr=page>p.</abbr> #95#.
.fn-
.fn #
Thorpe, ‘Analecta Anglo-Saxonica,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 115.
.fn-
.fn #
Schirren, <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 151. See Taylor, ‘<abbr rend=spell>N. Z.</abbr>’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 525.
.fn-
.fn #
Meiners, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 781; Maury, ‘Magie,’ &c. <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 170.
.fn-
.fn #
Oviedo, ‘Nicaragua,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 160; Brinton, <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 288.
.fn-
.fn #
<abbr rend=spell>J. G.</abbr> Müller, ‘Amer. Urrel.’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 138, see also 220 (Caribs), 402 (Peru),
505, 660 (Mexico); Brinton, ‘Myths of New World,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 233; Taylor,
‘Physical Theory,’ <abbr=chapter>ch.</abbr> <abbr=sixteen>xvi.</abbr>; Alger, ‘Future Life,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 590; see also above,
<abbr=page>p.</abbr> #16#, note.
.fn-
.fn #
Humboldt and Bonpland, ‘<abbr=Voyage>Voy.</abbr>’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=five>v.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 90; Martius, ‘Ethnog.
Amer.’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 233; Turner, ‘Polynesia,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 531; Plutarch. De Facie in
Orbe Lunæ; Bastian, ‘Psychologie,’ <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 80, 89 (souls in stars).
.fn-
.fn #
See Schoolcraft, ‘Indian Tribes,’ part <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 269, 311; Smith, ‘Virginia,’
in Pinkerton, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=thirteen>xiii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 54; Waitz, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=three>iii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 223; Squier, ‘Abor. Mon.
of <abbr rend=spell>N. Y.</abbr>’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 156; Catlin, ‘<abbr rend=spell>N. A.</abbr> Ind.’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 180.
.fn-
.fn #
Mariner, ‘Tonga Is.’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 134; Turner, ‘Polynesia,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 103;
Taylor, ‘New Zealand,’ <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 101, 114, 256.
.fn-
.fn #
Callaway, ‘Rel. of Amazulu,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 393; Burton, ‘<abbr rend=spell>W.</abbr> and <abbr rend=spell>W.</abbr> fr. <abbr=west>W.</abbr> <abbr=Africa>Afr.</abbr>’
<abbr=page>p.</abbr> 454; Castrén, ‘Finn. Myth.’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 295.
.fn-
.fn #
Herodot. <abbr=four>iv.</abbr> 158, see 185, and Rawlinson’s note. See Smith’s ‘<abbr=Dictionary>Dic.</abbr> of
the Bible,’ <abbr rend=spell>s.v.</abbr> ‘firmament.’ Eisenmenger, part <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 408.
.fn-
.fn #
Eyre, ‘Australia,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 367.
.fn-
.fn #
Schoolcraft, ‘Indian Tribes,’ part <abbr=four>iv.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 240 (but compare part <abbr=five>v.</abbr>
<abbr=page>p.</abbr> 403); Morgan, ‘Iroquois,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 176; Sproat, ‘Savage Life,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 209.
.fn-
.fn #
D’Orbigny, <lang=fr>‘L’Homme Américain,’</lang> <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 319, 328; see Martius,
<abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 485 (Jumanas).
.fn-
.fn #
<abbr rend=spell>J. G.</abbr> Müller, <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 403; Brasseur, ‘Mexique,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=three>iii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 496; Kingsborough,
‘Mexico,’ Cod. Letellier, <abbr=folio>fol.</abbr> 20.
.fn-
.fn #
Max Müller, ‘Chips,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 46; Roth in <lang=de>‘Zeitschr. d. Deutsch.
Morgenl. Ges.’</lang> <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=four>iv.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 427.
.fn-
.fn #
Cross, ‘Karens,’ <abbr rend=spell>l.c.</abbr> <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 309, 313; Le Jeune in <lang=fr>‘Rel. des Jés.’</lang> 1634,
<abbr=page>p.</abbr> 16; Steller, ‘Kamtschatka,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 272; Callaway, ‘Zulu Tales,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 316;
Klemm, ‘Cultur-Gesch.’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 310, 315; <abbr rend=spell>J. G.</abbr> Müller, ‘Amer. Urrel.’
<abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 139, 286.
.fn-
.fn #
Bastian, ‘Psychologie,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 224; Schoolcraft, ‘Indian Tribes,’ part <abbr=two>ii.</abbr>
<abbr=page>p.</abbr> 135.
.fn-
.fn #
D’Orbigny, <lang=fr>‘L’Homme Américain,’</lang> <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 364; Spix and Martius,
‘Brasilien,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 383; De Laet, Novus Orbis, <abbr=fifteen>xv.</abbr> 2.
.fn-
.fn #
Cranz, ‘Grönland,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 258.
.fn-
.fn #
Magyar, ‘Süd-Afrika,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 336.
.fn-
.fn #
Edda: ‘Gylfaginning.’
.fn-
.fn #
‘Koran,’ <abbr=chapter>ch.</abbr> <abbr='fifty-five'>lv.</abbr> <abbr='fifty-six'>lvi.</abbr>
.fn-
.fn #
Eisenmenger, ‘Entdecktes Judenthum,’ part <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 7.
.fn-
.fn #
Hardy, ‘Manual of Budhism,’ <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 5, 24; Köppen, ‘Rel. des Buddha,’
<abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 235, &c.
.fn-
.fn #
Brebeuf in ‘Rel. des Jés.’ 1636, <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 105.
.fn-
.fn #
Sahagun, <lang=es>‘Hist. de Nueva España,’</lang> book <abbr=three>iii.</abbr> appendix <abbr=chapter>ch.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr>, in Kingsborough,
<abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=seven>vii.</abbr>; Brasseur, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=three>iii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 571.
.fn-
.fn #
Casalis, ‘Basutos,’ <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 247, 254.
.fn-
.fn #
Burton, ‘Dahome,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 156; ‘Tr. Eth. Soc.’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=three>iii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 403; ‘Wit
and Wisdom from <abbr=west>W.</abbr> <abbr=Africa>Afr.</abbr>’ <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 280, 449; see <abbr rend=spell>J. G.</abbr> Müller, <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 140.
.fn-
.fn #
Castrén, ‘Finn. Myth.’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 126, &c.; Kalewala, Rune <abbr=fifteen>xv.</abbr> <abbr=sixteen>xvi.</abbr> <abbr='forty-five'>xlv.</abbr> &c.;
Meiners, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 780.
.fn-
.fn #
Homer. <abbr=Iliad>Il.</abbr> <abbr=nine>ix.</abbr> 405; <abbr=Odyssey>Odyss.</abbr> <abbr=eleven>xi.</abbr> 218, 475; <abbr=Virgil>Virg.</abbr> <abbr=Aeneid>Æn.</abbr> <abbr=six>vi.</abbr> 243, &c., &c.
.fn-
.fn #
<abbr=Genesis>Gen.</abbr> <abbr='thirty-five'>xxxv.</abbr> 29; <abbr='twenty-five'>xxv.</abbr> 8; <abbr='thirty-seven'>xxxvii.</abbr> 35; Job <abbr=eleven>xi.</abbr> 8; Amos <abbr=nine>ix.</abbr> 2; Psalm
<abbr='eighty-nine'>lxxxix.</abbr> 48; <abbr=Ezekiel>Ezek.</abbr> <abbr='thirty-one'>xxxi.</abbr>, <abbr='thirty-two'>xxxii.</abbr>; Isaiah <abbr=fourteen>xiv.</abbr> 9, <abbr='thirty-eight'>xxxviii.</abbr> 10-18; 1 <abbr=Samuel>Sam.</abbr>,
<abbr='twenty-eight'>xxviii.</abbr> 15; <abbr=Ecclesiastes>Eccles.</abbr> <abbr=nine>ix.</abbr> 10. ‘Records of the Past,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 141-9; Sayce
‘Lectures on <abbr=History>Hist.</abbr> of Rel.’ part <abbr=two>ii.</abbr>; Alger, ‘Critical History of the Doctrine
of a Future Life,’ <abbr=chapter>ch.</abbr> <abbr=eight>viii.</abbr>
.fn-
.fn #
The doctrine of reversal, as in Kamchatka, where rich and poor will
change places in the other world (Steller, <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 269-72), is too exceptional in
the lower culture to be generalized. See Steinhauser, ‘Rel. des Negers,’
<abbr rend=spell>l. c.</abbr>, <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 135. A Wolof proverb is ‘The more powerful one is in this world,
the more servile one will be in the next.’ (Burton, ‘Wit and Wisdom,’
<abbr=page>p.</abbr> 28.)
.fn-
.fn #
Ellis, ‘Polyn. Res.’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 245, 397; see also Turner, ‘Polynesia,’
<abbr=page>p.</abbr> 237 (Samoans); Mariner, ‘Tonga Is.’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 105.
.fn-
.fn #
Sproat, ‘Savage Life,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 209.
.fn-
.fn #
‘Rec. des Voy. au Nord,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=five>v.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 23 (Natchez); Garcilaso de la Vega,
<lang=es>‘Commentarios Reales,’</lang> <abbr=liber>lib.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=chapter>c.</abbr> 23, <abbr=translated>tr.</abbr> by <abbr rend=spell>C. R.</abbr> Markham; Prescott,
‘Peru,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 29, 83; <abbr rend=spell>J. G.</abbr> Müller, <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 402, &c.
.fn-
.fn #
Cranz, ‘Grönland,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 259.
.fn-
.fn #
Charlevoix, <lang=fr>‘Nouvelle France,’</lang> <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=six>vi.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 77; Lescarbot, <lang=fr>‘Hist. de la
Nouvelle France,’</lang> Paris, 1619, <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 679.
.fn-
.fn #
Lery, <lang=fr>‘Hist. d’un Voy. en Brésil,’</lang> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 234; Coreal, <lang=fr>‘Voi. aux Indes Occ.’</lang>
<abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 224.
.fn-
.fn #
Rochefort, ‘Iles Antilles,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 430.
.fn-
.fn #
‘Journ. Ind. Archip.’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 325.
.fn-
.fn #
Brebeuf in ‘Rel. des Jés.’ 1636, <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 104; see also Meiners, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 769;
<abbr rend=spell>J. G.</abbr> Müller, <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 89, 139.
.fn-
.fn #
Chateaubriand, <lang=fr>‘Voy. en Amérique’</lang> (Religion).
.fn-
.fn #
Oviedo, ‘Nicaragua,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 22; Torquemada, ‘Monarquia Indiana,’ book
<abbr=thirteen>xiii.</abbr> <abbr=chapter>c.</abbr> 48; Sahagun, book <abbr=three>iii.</abbr> app. <abbr=chapter>ch.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr>-<abbr=three>iii.</abbr> in Kingsborough, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=seven>vii.</abbr>
Compare Anderson, ‘Exp. to <abbr rend=spell>W.</abbr> Yunnan,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 125. (Shans, good men and
mothers dying in child-birth to heaven, bad men and those killed by the
sword to hell.)
.fn-
.fn #
Alger, ‘Future Life,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 93.
.fn-
.fn #
Brinton, ‘Myths of New World,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 300.
.fn-
.fn #
Ellis, ‘Polyn. Res.’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 397; see also Williams, ‘Fiji,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr>
<abbr=page>p.</abbr> 243.
.fn-
.fn #
Brinton, <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 242, &c.
.fn-
.fn #
<abbr rend=spell>J. G.</abbr> Müller, <lang=de>‘Amer. Urrel.’</lang> <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 87, 224. See also the opinions of
Meiners, <lang=de>‘Gesch. der Religion,’</lang> <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 768; Wuttke. <lang=de>‘Gesch. des Heidenthums,’</lang>
<abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 115.
.fn-
.fn #
Ellis, <abbr rend=spell>l. c.</abbr>; Moerenhout, ‘Voyage,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 433.
.fn-
.fn #
Rochefort, ‘Iles Antilles,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 378.
.fn-
.fn #
Bosman, ‘Guinea,’ letter <abbr=ten>x.</abbr>; in Pinkerton, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=sixteen>xvi.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 401.
.fn-
.fn #
<abbr=Saint>St.</abbr> John, ‘Far East,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 181; see Mundy, ‘Narrative,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr>
<abbr=page>p.</abbr> 332.
.fn-
.fn #
Macpherson, <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 92. Compare Moerenhout, <abbr rend=spell>l. c.</abbr> (Tahiti).
.fn-
.fn #
Mason, <abbr rend=spell>l. c.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 195. See also De Brosses, ‘Nav. aux Terres Australes,’
<abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 482 (Caroline Is.).
.fn-
.fn #
Castrén, ‘Finn. Myth.’ <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 136, 144. See Georgi, <lang=de>‘Reise im Russ.
Reich,’</lang> <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 278. Compare accounts of Purgatory among the North
American Indians, apparently derived from missionaries, in Morgan, ‘Iroquois,’
<abbr=page>p.</abbr> 169; Waitz, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=three>iii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 345.
.fn-
.fn #
See <abbr rend=spell>T.</abbr> Wright, ‘<abbr=Saint>St.</abbr> Patrick’s Purgatory.’
.fn-
.fn #
Waitz, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 171, 191; Bowen, ‘Yoruba Lang.’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> <abbr=sixteen>xvi.</abbr> See <abbr rend=spell>J. L.</abbr>
Wilson, <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 210.
.fn-
.fn #
Brebeuf in ‘Rel. des Jés.’ 1635, <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 35; 1636, <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 105. Catlin, ‘<abbr rend=spell>N. A.</abbr>
Ind.’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 127; Long’s ‘Exp.’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 180. See Brinton, <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 247;
Waitz, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 191, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=three>iii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 197; and the collection of myths of the
Heaven-Bridge and Heaven-Gulf in ‘Early History of Mankind,’ <abbr=chapter>chap.</abbr> <abbr=twelve>xii.</abbr>
.fn-
.fn #
Smith, ‘New England,’ in Pinkerton, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=thirteen>xiii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 244.
.fn-
.fn #
Wilson in ‘Tr. Eth. Soc.’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=three>iii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 303.
.fn-
.fn #
Birch, Introduction to and translation of the ‘Book of the Dead,’ in
Bunsen, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=five>v.</abbr>; Wilkinson, ‘Ancient <abbr=Egypt>Eg.</abbr>’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=five>v.</abbr>
.fn-
.fn #
For references to Rig Veda see Muir, ‘Sanskrit Texts,’ <abbr=section>sec.</abbr> <abbr=eighteen>xviii.</abbr>; Max
Müller, Lecture on Vedas in ‘Essays,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr>
.fn-
.fn #
‘Journ. Ind. Archip.’ new ser. <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 210. See Bastian, ‘Oestl.
Asien,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=three>iii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 387.
.fn-
.fn #
Spiegel, ‘Avesta,’ <abbr=editor>ed.</abbr> Bleek, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=three>iii.</abbr> <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 136, 163; see <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> <abbr=eighteen>xviii.</abbr>
90, 141; <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 68.
.fn-
// File: 116.png
.pn +1
.sp 4
.h2 id=chap14
CHAPTER <abbr=fourteen>XIV.</abbr> | ANIMISM (<i>continued</i>).
.pm letter-start
Animism, expanding from the Doctrine of Souls to the wider Doctrine of
Spirits, becomes a complete Philosophy of Natural Religion—Definition
of Spirits similar to and apparently modelled on that of Souls—Transition
stage: classes of Souls passing into good and evil Demons—Manes-Worship—Doctrine
of Embodiment of Spirits in human, animal, vegetable,
and inert bodies—Demoniacal Possession and Obsession as causes
of Disease and Oracle-inspiration—Fetishism—Disease-spirits embodied—Ghost
attached to remains of Corpse—Fetish produced by a Spirit
embodied in, attached to, or operating through, an Object—Analogues
of Fetish-doctrine in Modern Science—Stock-and-Stone Worship—Idolatry—Survival
of Animistic Phraseology in modern Language—Decline
of Animistic theory of Nature.
.pm letter-end
.sp 2
The general scheme of Animism, of which the doctrine of
souls hitherto discussed forms part, thence expands to complete
the full general philosophy of Natural Religion among
mankind. Conformably with that early childlike philosophy
in which human life seems the direct key to the understanding
of nature at large, the savage theory of the universe
refers its phenomena in general to the wilful action of pervading
personal spirits. It was no spontaneous fancy, but
the reasonable inference that effects are due to causes, which
led the rude men of old days to people with such ethereal
phantoms their own homes and haunts, and the vast earth
and sky beyond. Spirits are simply personified causes. As
men’s ordinary life and actions were held to be caused by
souls, so the happy or disastrous events which affect mankind,
as well as the manifold physical operations of the
// File: 117.png
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outer-world, were accounted for as caused by soul-like beings,
spirits whose essential similarity of origin is evident through
all their wondrous variety of power and function. Much
that the primitive animistic view thus explains, has been
indeed given over by more advanced education to the
‘metaphysical’ and ‘positive’ stages of thought. Yet
animism is still plainly to be traced onward from the intellectual
state of the lower races, along the course of the
higher culture, whether its doctrines have been continued
and modified into the accepted philosophy of religion, or
whether they have dwindled into mere survivals in popular
superstition. Though all I here undertake is to sketch in
outline such features of this spiritualistic philosophy as I
can see plainly enough to draw at all, scarcely attempting
to clear away the haze that covers great parts of the subject,
yet even so much as I venture on is a hard task, made yet
harder by the responsibility attaching to it. For it appears
that to follow the course of animism on from its more
primitive stages, is to account for much of mediæval and
modern opinion whose meaning and reason could hardly be
comprehended without the aid of a development-theory of
culture, taking in the various processes of new formation,
abolition, survival, and revival. Thus even the despised
ideas of savage races become a practically important topic
to the modern world, for here, as usual, whatever bears
on the origin of philosophic opinion, bears also on its
validity.

At this point of the investigation, we come fully into sight
of the principle which has been all along implied in the use
of the word Animism, in a sense beyond its narrower meaning
of the doctrine of souls. By using it to express the
doctrine of spirits generally, it is practically asserted that
the idea of souls, demons, deities, and any other classes of
spiritual beings, are conceptions of similar nature throughout,
the conceptions of souls being the original ones of the
series. It was best, from this point of view, to begin with
a careful study of souls, which are the spirits proper to men,
// File: 118.png
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animals, and things, before extending the survey of the
spirit-world to its fullest range. If it be admitted that souls
and other spiritual beings are conceived of as essentially
similar in their nature, it may be reasonably argued that the
class of conceptions based on evidence most direct and
accessible to ancient men, is the earlier and fundamental
class. To grant this, is in effect to agree that the doctrine
of souls, founded on the natural perceptions of primitive
man, gave rise to the doctrine of spirits, which extends
and modifies its general theory for new purposes, but in
developments less authenticated and consistent, more fanciful
and far-fetched. It seems as though the conception of
a human soul, when once attained to by man, served as a
type or model on which he framed not only his ideas of
other souls of lower grade, but also his ideas of spiritual
beings in general, from the tiniest elf that sports in the long
grass up to the heavenly Creator and Ruler of the world,
the Great Spirit.

The doctrines of the lower races fully justify us in classing
their spiritual beings in general as similar in nature to the
souls of men. It will be incidentally shown here, again
and again, that souls have the same qualities attributed to
them as other spirits, are treated in like fashion, and pass
without distinct breaks into every part of the general
spiritual definition. The similar nature of soul and other
spirit is, in fact, one of the commonplaces of animism, from
its rudest to its most cultured stages. It ranges from the
native New Zealanders’ and West Indians’ conceptions of
the ‘atua’ and the ‘cemi,’ beings which require special
definition to show whether they are human souls or demons
or deities of some other class,[#] and so onward to the declaration
of Philo Judæus, that souls, demons, and angels
differ indeed in name, but are in reality one,[#] and to the
state of mind of the modern Roman Catholic priest, who is
// File: 119.png
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cautioned in the rubric concerning the examination of a
possessed patient, not to believe the demon if he pretends
to be the soul of some saint or deceased person, or a good
angel (<lang=la>neque ei credatur, si dæmon simularet se esse animam
alicujus Sancti, vel defuncti, vel Angelum bonum</lang>).[#]
Nothing can bring more broadly into view the similar
nature of souls and other spiritual beings than the existence
of a full transitional series of ideas. Souls of dead
men are in fact considered as actually forming one of the
most important classes of demons and deities.

It is quite usual for savage tribes to live in terror of the
souls of the dead as harmful spirits. Thus Australians
have been known to consider the ghosts of the unburied
dead as becoming malignant demons.[#] New Zealanders
have supposed the souls of their dead to become so changed
in nature as to be malignant to their nearest and dearest
friends in life;[#] the Caribs said that, of man’s various
souls, some go to the seashore and capsize boats, others to
the forest to be evil spirits;[#] among the Sioux Indians
the fear of a ghost’s vengeance has been found to act as a
check on murder;[#] of some tribes in Central Africa it may
be said that their main religious doctrine is the belief in
ghosts, and that the main characteristic of these ghosts is
to do harm to the living.[#] The Patagonians lived in terror
of the souls of their wizards, which become evil demons
after death;[#] Turanian tribes of North Asia fear their
shamans even more when dead than when alive, for they
become a special class of spirits who are the hurtfullest in
all nature, and who among the Mongols plague the living on
// File: 120.png
.pn +1
purpose to make them bring offerings.[#] In China it is held
that the multitudes of wretched destitute spirits in the
world below, such as souls of lepers and beggars, can sorely
annoy the living; therefore at certain times they are to be
appeased with offerings of food, scant and beggarly; and a
man who feels unwell, or fears a mishap in business, will
prudently have some mock-clothing and mock-money burnt
for these ‘gentlemen of the lower regions.’[#] Notions of
this sort are widely prevalent in Indo-China and India;
whole orders of demons there were formerly human souls,
especially of people left unburied or slain by plague or
violence, of bachelors or of women who died in childbirth,
and who henceforth wreak their vengeance on the living.
They may, however, be propitiated by temples and offerings,
and thus have become in fact a regular class of local deities.[#]
Among them may be counted the diabolic soul of a certain
wicked British officer, whom native worshippers in the
Tinnevelly district still propitiate by offering at his grave
the brandy and cheroots he loved in life.[#] India even
carried theory into practice by an actual manufacture of
demons, as witness the two following accounts. A certain
brahman, on whose lands a kshatriya raja had built a house,
ripped himself up in revenge, and became a demon of the
kind called brahmadasyu, who has been ever since the
terror of the whole country, and is the most common village
deity in Kharakpur.[#] Toward the close of the last century
there were two brahmans, out of whose house a man had
wrongfully, as they thought, taken forty rupees; whereupon
one of the brahmans proceeded to cut off his own mother’s
// File: 121.png
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head, with the professed view, entertained by both mother
and son, that her spirit, excited by the beating of a large
drum during forty days, might haunt, torment, and pursue
to death the taker of their money and those concerned with
him. Declaring with her last words that she would blast
the thief, the spiteful hag deliberately gave up her life to
take ghostly vengeance for those forty rupees.[#] By instances
like these it appears that we may trace up from the
psychology of the lower races the familiar ancient and
modern European tales of baleful ghost-demons. The old
fear even now continues to vouch for the old belief.

Happily for man’s anticipation of death, and for the
treatment of the sick and aged, thoughts of horror and
hatred do not preponderate in ideas of deified ancestors,
who are regarded on the whole as kindly patron spirits, at
least to their own kinsfolk and worshippers. Manes-worship
is one of the great branches of the religion of mankind.
Its principles are not difficult to understand, for they
plainly keep up the social relations of the living world.
The dead ancestor, now passed into a deity, simply goes on
protecting his own family and receiving suit and service
from them as of old; the dead chief still watches over his
own tribe, still holds his authority by helping friends and
harming enemies, still rewards the right and sharply
punishes the wrong. It will be enough to show by a few
characteristic examples the general position of manes-worship
among mankind, from the lower culture upward.[#] In
the two Americas it appears not unfrequently, from the low
savage level of the Brazilian Camacans, to the somewhat
higher stage of northern Indian tribes whom we hear of as
praying to the spirits of their forefathers for good weather
or luck in hunting, and fancying when an Indian falls into
the fire that the ancestral spirits pushed him in to punish
// File: 122.png
.pn +1
neglect of the customary gifts, while the Natchez of Louisiana
are said to have even gone so far as to build temples
for dead men.[#] Turning to the dark races of the Pacific,
we find the Tasmanians laying their sick round a corpse
on the funeral pile, that the dead might come in the night
and take out the devils that caused the diseases; it is asserted
in a general way of the natives, that they believed
most implicitly in the return of the spirits of their departed
friends or relations to bless or injure them as the case might
be.[#] In Tanna, the gods are spirits of departed ancestors,
aged chiefs becoming deities after death, presiding over the
growth of yams and fruit trees, and receiving from the
islanders prayer and offerings of first fruits.[#] Nor are the
fairer Polynesians behind in this respect. Below the great
mythological gods of Tonga and New Zealand, the souls of
chiefs and warriors form a lower but active and powerful
order of deities, who in the Tongan paradise intercede for
man’s benefit with the higher deities, who direct the Maori
war parties on the march, hover over them and give them
courage in the fight, and, watching jealously their own
tribes and families, punish any violation of the sacred laws
of tapu.[#] Thence we trace the doctrine into the Malay
islands, where the souls of deceased ancestors are looked
to for prosperity in life and help in distress.[#] In Madagascar,
the worship of the spirits of the dead is remarkably
associated with the Vazimbas, the aborigines of the island,
who are said still to survive as a distinct race in the interior,
and whose peculiar graves testify to their former occupancy
of other districts. These graves, small in size, and
distinguished by a cairn and an upright stone slab or altar,
// File: 123.png
.pn +1
are places which the Malagasy regard with equal fear and
veneration, and their faces become sad and serious when
they even pass near. To take a stone or pluck a twig from
one of these graves, to stumble against one in the dark,
would be resented by the angry Vazimba inflicting disease,
or coming in the night to carry off the offender to the
region of ghosts. The Malagasy is thus enabled to account
for every otherwise unaccountable ailment by his having
knowingly or unknowingly given offence to some Vazimba.
They are not indeed always malevolent, they may be placable
or implacable, or partake of both characters. Thus
it comes to pass, that at the altar-slab which long ago some
rude native family set up for commemoration or dutiful
offering of food to a dead kinsman, a barbaric supplanting
race now comes to smear the burnt fat of sacrifice, and set
up the heads of poultry and sheep and the horns of bullocks,
that the mysterious tenant may be kind, not cruel, with his
superhuman powers.[#]

On the continent of Africa, manes-worship appears with
extremest definiteness and strength. Thus Zulu warriors,
aided by the ‘amatongo,’ the spirits of their ancestors,
conquer in the battle; but if the dead turn their backs on
the living, the living fall in the fight, to become ancestral
spirits in their turn. In anger the ‘itongo’ seizes a
living man’s body and inflicts disease and death; in beneficence
he gives health, and cattle, and corn, and all men
wish. Even the little children and old women, of small
account in life, become at death spirits having much power,
the infants for kindness, the crones for malice. But it is
especially the head of each family who receives the worship
of his kin. Why it is naturally and reasonably so, a Zulu
thus explains. ‘Although they worship the many Amatongo
of their tribe, making a great fence around them for
their protection; yet their father is far before all others
when they worship the Amatongo. Their father is a great
// File: 124.png
.pn +1
treasure to them even when he is dead. And those of his
children who are already grown up know him thoroughly,
his gentleness, and his bravery.’ ‘Black people do not
worship all Amatongo indifferently, that is, all the dead of
their tribe. Speaking generally, the head of each house is
worshipped by the children of that house; for they do not
know the ancients who are dead, nor their laud-giving
names, nor their names. But their father whom they knew
is the head by whom they begin and end in their prayer,
for they know him best, and his love for his children; they
remember his kindness to them whilst he was living; they
compare his treatment of them whilst he was living, support
themselves by it, and say, “He will still treat us in the
same way now he is dead. We do not know why he should
regard others besides us; he will regard us only.”’[#] It will
be seen in another place how the Zulu follows up the doctrine
of divine ancestors till he reaches a first ancestor of
man and creator of the world, the primæval Unkulunkulu.
In West Africa, manes-worship displays in contrast its two
special types. On the one hand, we see the North Guinea
negroes transferring the souls of the dead, according to
their lives, to the rank of good and evil spirits, and if evil
worshipping them the more zealously, as fear is to their
minds a stronger impulse than love. On the other hand,
in Southern Guinea, we see the deep respect paid to the
aged during life, passing into worship when death has
raised them to yet higher influence. There the living bring
to the images of the dead food and drink, and even a small
portion of their profits gained in trade; they look especially
to dead relatives for help in the trials of life, and ‘it is no
uncommon thing to see large groups of men and women, in
times of peril or distress, assembled along the brow of some
commanding eminence, or along the skirts of some dense
// File: 125.png
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forest, calling in the most piteous and touching tones upon
the spirits of their ancestors.’[#]

In Asia, manes-worship comes to the surface in all directions.
The rude Veddas of Ceylon believe in the guardianship
of the spirits of the dead; these, they say, are ‘ever
watchful, coming to them in sickness, visiting them in
dreams, giving them flesh when hunting;’ and in every
calamity and want they call for aid on the ‘kindred
spirits,’ and especially the shades of departed children,
the ‘infant spirits.’[#] Among non-Hindu tribes of India,
whose religions more or less represent præ-Brahmanic and
præ-Buddhistic conditions, wide and deep traces appear of
an ancient and surviving cultus of ancestors.[#] Among
Turanian tribes spread over the northern regions of the
Old World, a similar state of things may be instanced from
the Mongols, worshipping as good deities the princely souls
of Genghis Khan’s family, at whose head stands the divine
Genghis himself.[#] Nor have nations of the higher Asiatic
culture generally rejected the time-honoured rite. In Japan
the ‘Way of the Kami,’ better known to foreigners as the
Sin-tu religion, is one of the officially recognized faiths, and
in it there is still kept up in hut and palace the religion of
the rude old mountain-tribes of the land, who worshipped
their divine ancestors, the Kami, and prayed to them for
help and blessing. To the time of these ancient Kami, say the
modern Japanese, the rude stone implements belong which
are found in the ground in Japan as elsewhere: to modern
ethnologists, however, these bear witness not of divine
but savage parentage.[#] In Siam the lower orders scruple to
// File: 126.png
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worship the great gods, lest through ignorance they should
blunder in the complex ritual; they prefer to pray to the
‘theparak,’ a lower class of deities among whom the souls
of great men take their places at death.[#] In China, as
every one knows, ancestor-worship is the dominant religion
of the land, and interesting problems are opened out to the
Western mind by the spectacle of a great people who for
thousands of years have been thus seeking the living among
the dead. Nowhere is the connexion between parental
authority and conservatism more graphically shown. The
worship of ancestors, begun during their life, is not interrupted
but intensified when death makes them deities. The
Chinese, prostrate bodily and mentally before the memorial
tablets that contain the souls of his ancestors, little thinks
that he is all the while proving to mankind how vast a
power unlimited filial obedience, prohibiting change from
ancestral institutions, may exert in stopping the advance of
civilization. The thought of the souls of the dead as sharing
the happiness and glory of their descendants is one which
widely pervades the world, but most such ideas would seem
vague and weak to the Chinese, who will try hard for honour
in his competitive examination with the special motive of
glorifying his dead ancestors, and whose titles of rank will
raise his deceased father and grandfather a grade above
himself, as though, with us, Zachary Macaulay and Copley
the painter should now have viscounts’ coronets officially
placed on their tombstones. As so often happens, what is
jest to one people is sober sense to another. There are
300 millions of Chinese who would hardly see a joke in
Charles Lamb reviling the stupid age that would not read
him, and declaring that he would write for antiquity. Had
he been a Chinese himself, he might have written his book
in all seriousness for the benefit of his great-great-grandfather.
Among the Chinese, manes-worship is no rite of
mere affection. The living want the help of the ancestral
spirits, who reward virtue and punish vice: ‘The exalted
// File: 127.png
.pn +1
ancestor will bring thee, O Prince, much good!’—‘Ancestors
and fathers will abandon you and give you up, and
come not to help, and ye will die.’ If no help comes in
time of need, the Chinese will reproach his ancestor, or
even come to doubt his existence. Thus in a Chinese ode
the sufferers in a dreadful drought cry, ‘Heu-tsi cannot or
will not help.... Our ancestors have surely perished....
Father, mother, ancestors, how could you calmly
bear this?’ Nor does manes-worship stop short with direct
family ties; it is naturally developed to produce, by deification
of the heroic dead, a series of superior gods to whom
worship is given by the public at large. Thus, according to
legend, the War-god or Military Sage was once in human
life a distinguished soldier, the Mechanics’ god was a skilful
workman and inventor of tools, the Swine-god was a hog-breeder
who lost his pigs and died of sorrow, and the
Gamblers’ god, a desperate gamester who lost his all and
died of want, is represented by a hideous image called a
‘devil gambling for cash,’ and in this shape receives the
prayers and offerings of confirmed gamblers, his votaries.
The spirits of San-kea Ta-te, and Chang-yuen-sze go to
partake of the offerings set out in their temples, returning
flushed and florid from their meal; and the spirit of Confucius
is present in the temple, where twice a year the
Emperor does sacrifice to him.[#]

The Hindu unites in some degree with the Chinese as to
ancestor-worship, and especially as to the necessity of having
a son by blood or adoption, who shall offer the proper sacrifices
to him after death. ‘May there be born in our lineage,’
the manes are supposed to say, ‘a man to offer to us, on the
thirteenth day of the moon, rice boiled in milk, honey and
ghee.’ Offerings made to the divine manes, the ‘pitaras’
(patres, fathers) as they are called, preceded and followed by
offerings to the greater deities, give to the worshipper merit
// File: 128.png
.pn +1
and happiness.[#] In classic Europe, apotheosis lies part
within the limits of myth, where it was applied to fabled
ancestors, and part within the limits of actual history, as
where Julius and Augustus shared its honours with the vile
Domitian and Commodus. The most special representatives
of ancestor-worship in Europe were perhaps the ancient
Romans, whose word ‘manes’ has become the recognized
name for ancestral deities in modern civilized language;
they embodied them as images, set them up as household
patrons, gratified them with offerings and solemn homage,
and counting them as or among the infernal gods, inscribed
on tombs <abbr rend=spell>D. M.</abbr>, ‘<lang=la>Diis Manibus</lang>.’[#] The occurrence of this
<abbr rend=spell>D. M.</abbr> in Christian epitaphs is an often-noticed case of
religious survival.

Although full ancestor-worship is not practised in modern
Christendom, there remains even now within its limits a
well-marked worship of the dead. A crowd of saints, who
were once men and women, now form an order of inferior
deities, active in the affairs of men and receiving from them
reverence and prayer, thus coming strictly under the definition
of manes. This Christian cultus of the dead, belonging
in principle to the older manes-worship, was adapted to
answer another purpose in the course of religious transition
in Europe. The local gods, the patron gods of particular
ranks and crafts, the gods from whom men sought special
help in special needs, were too near and dear to the inmost
heart of præ-Christian Europe to be done away with without
substitutes. It proved easier to replace them by saints who
could undertake their particular professions, and even
succeed them in their sacred dwellings. The system of
spiritual division of labour was in time worked out with
wonderful minuteness in the vast array of professional saints,
among whom the most familiar to modern English ears
are <abbr=Saint>St.</abbr> Cecilia, patroness of musicians; <abbr=Saint>St.</abbr> Luke, patron
// File: 129.png
.pn +1
of painters; <abbr=Saint>St.</abbr> Peter, of fishmongers; <abbr=Saint>St.</abbr> Valentine, of
lovers; <abbr=Saint>St.</abbr> Sebastian, of archers; <abbr=Saint>St.</abbr> Crispin, of cobblers;
<abbr=Saint>St.</abbr> Hubert, who cures the bite of mad dogs; <abbr=Saint>St.</abbr> Vitus,
who delivers madmen and sufferers from the disease which
bears his name; <abbr=Saint>St.</abbr> Fiacre, whose name is now less known
by his shrine than by the hackney-coaches called after him
in the seventeenth century. Not to dwell here minutely
on an often-treated topic, it will be enough to touch on two
particular points. First, as to the direct historical succession
of the Christian saint to the heathen deity, the
following are two very perfect illustrations. It is well
known that Romulus, mindful of his own adventurous infancy,
became after death a Roman deity propitious to the
health and safety of young children, so that nurses and
mothers would carry sickly infants to present them in his
little round temple at the foot of the Palatine. In after
ages the temple was replaced by the church of <abbr=Saint>St.</abbr> Theodorus,
and there Dr. Conyers Middleton, who drew public
attention to its curious history, used to look in and see ten
or a dozen women, each with a sick child in her lap, sitting
in silent reverence before the altar of the saint. The
ceremony of blessing children, especially after vaccination,
may still be seen there on Thursday mornings.[#] Again,
Sts. Cosmas and Damianus, according to Maury, owe their
recognized office to a similar curious train of events. They
were martyrs who suffered under Diocletian, at Ægææ in
Cilicia. Now this place was celebrated for the worship
of Æsculapius, in whose temple incubation, i.e. sleeping
for oracular dreams, was practised. It seems as though the
idea was transferred on the spot to the two local saints, for
we next hear of them as appearing in a dream to the
Emperor Justinian, when he was ill at Byzantium. They
cured him, he built them a temple, their cultus spread far
and wide, and they frequently appeared to the sick to show
them what they should do. Legend settled that Cosmas
and Damianus were physicians while they lived on earth,
// File: 130.png
.pn +1
and at any rate they are patron-saints of the profession of
medicine to this day.[#] Second, as to the actual state of
hagiolatry in modern Europe, it is obvious on a broad view
that it is declining among the educated classes. Yet modern
examples may be brought forward to show ideas as extreme
as those which prevailed more widely a thousand years ago.
In the Church of the Jesuit College at Rome lies buried
<abbr=Saint>St.</abbr> Aloysius Gonzaga, on whose festival it is customary
especially for the college students to write letters to him,
which are placed on his gaily decorated and illuminated
altar, and afterwards burnt unopened. The miraculous
answering of these letters is vouched for in an English book
of 1870. To the same year belongs an English tract commemorating
a late miraculous cure. An Italian lady afflicted
with a tumour and incipient cancer of the breast was
exhorted by a Jesuit priest to recommend herself to the
Blessed John Berchmans, a pious Jesuit novice from Belgium,
who died in 1621, and was beatified in 1865. Her
adviser procured for her ‘three small packets of dust
gathered from the coffin of this saintly innocent, a little
cross made of the boards of the room the blessed youth
occupied, as well as some portion of the wadding in which
his venerable head was wrapped.’ During nine days’
devotion the patient accordingly invoked the Blessed John,
swallowed small portions of his dust in water, and at last
pressed the cross to her breast so vehemently that she was
seized with sickness, went to sleep, and awoke without a
symptom of the complaint. And when Dr. Panegrossi the
physician beheld the incredible cure, and heard that the
patient had addressed herself to the Blessed Berchmans, he
bowed his head, saying, ‘When such physicians interfere,
we have nothing more to say!’[#] To sum up the whole
// File: 131.png
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history of manes-worship, it is plain that in our time the
dead still receive worship from far the larger half of mankind,
and it may have been much the same ever since the
remote periods of primitive culture in which the religion of
the manes probably took its rise.

It has now been seen that the theory of souls recognizes
them as capable either of independent existence, or of inhabiting
human, animal, or other bodies. On the principle
here maintained, that the general theory of spirits is
modelled on the theory of souls, we shall be able to account
for several important branches of the lower philosophy of
religion, which without such explanation may appear in
great measure obscure or absurd. Like souls, other spirits
are supposed able either to exist and act flitting free about
the world, or to become incorporate for more or less time in
solid bodies. It will be well at once to get a secure grasp
of this theory of Embodiment, for without it we shall be
stopped every moment by a difficulty in understanding the
nature of spirits, as defined in the lower animism. The
theory of embodiment serves several highly important purposes
in savage and barbarian philosophy. On the one
hand it provides an explanation of the phenomena of morbid
exaltation and derangement, especially as connected with
abnormal utterance, and this view is so far extended as to
produce an almost general doctrine of disease. On the
other hand, it enables the savage either to ‘lay’ a hurtful
spirit in some foreign body, and so get rid of it, or to carry
about a useful spirit for his service in a material object, to
set it up as a deity for worship in the body of an animal, or
in a block or stone or image or other thing, which contains
the spirit as a vessel contains a fluid: this is the key to
strict fetishism, and in no small measure to idolatry. In
briefly considering these various branches of the Embodiment-theory,
there may be conveniently included certain
groups of cases often impossible to distinguish apart. These
cases belong theoretically rather to obsession than possession,
the spirits not actually inhabiting the bodies, but
// File: 132.png
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hanging or hovering about them and affecting them from
the outside.

As in normal conditions the man’s soul, inhabiting his
body, is held to give it life, to think, speak, and act through
it, so an adaptation of the self-same principle explains abnormal
conditions of body or mind, by considering the new
symptoms as due to the operation of a second soul-like
being, a strange spirit. The possessed man, tossed and
shaken in fever, pained and wrenched as though some live
creature were tearing or twisting him within, pining as
though it were devouring his vitals day by day, rationally
finds a personal spiritual cause for his sufferings. In
hideous dreams he may even sometimes see the very ghost
or nightmare-fiend that plagues him. Especially when the
mysterious unseen power throws him helpless on the ground,
jerks and writhes him in convulsions, makes him leap upon
the bystanders with a giant’s strength and a wild beast’s
ferocity, impels him, with distorted face and frantic gesture,
and voice not his own nor seemingly even human, to pour
forth wild incoherent raving, or with thought and eloquence
beyond his sober faculties to command, to counsel, to foretell—such
a one seems to those who watch him, and even to
himself, to have become the mere instrument of a spirit
which has seized him or entered into him, a possessing
demon in whose personality the patient believes so implicitly
that he often imagines a personal name for it, which
it can declare when it speaks in its own voice and character
through his organs of speech; at last, quitting the medium’s
spent and jaded body, the intruding spirit departs as it
came. This is the savage theory of dæmoniacal possession
and obsession, which has been for ages, and still remains,
the dominant theory of disease and inspiration among the
lower races. It is obviously based on an animistic interpretation,
most genuine and rational in its proper place in
man’s intellectual history, of the actual symptoms of the
cases. The general doctrine of disease-spirits and oracle-spirits
appears to have its earliest, broadest, and most consistent
// File: 133.png
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position within the limits of savagery. When we
have gained a clear idea of it in this its original home, we
shall be able to trace it along from grade to grade of civilization,
breaking away piecemeal under the influence of new
medical theories, yet sometimes expanding in revival, and
at least in lingering survival holding its place into the midst
of our modern life. The possession-theory is not merely
known to us by the statements of those who describe diseases
in accordance with it. Disease being accounted for by attack
of spirits, it naturally follows that to get rid of these spirits
is the proper means of cure. Thus the practices of the
exorcist appear side by side with the doctrine of possession,
from its first appearance in savagery to its survival in
modern civilization; and nothing could display more vividly
the conception of a disease or a mental affection as caused
by a personal spiritual being than the proceedings of the
exorcist who talks to it, coaxes or threatens it, makes offerings
to it, entices or drives it out of the patient’s body, and
induces it to take up its abode in some other. That the
two great effects ascribed to such spiritual influence in
obsession and possession, namely, the infliction of ailments
and the inspiration of oracles, are not only mixed up together
but often run into absolute coincidence, accords with
the view that both results are referred to one common cause.
Also that the intruding or invading spirit may be either a
human soul or may belong to some other class in the spiritual
hierarchy, countenances the opinion that the possession-theory
is derived from, and indeed modelled on, the ordinary
theory of the soul acting on the body. In illustrating
the doctrine by typical examples from the enormous mass
of available details, it will hardly be possible to discriminate
among the operating spirits, between those which are souls
and those which are demons, nor to draw an exact line
between obsession by a demon outside and possession by a
demon inside, nor between the condition of the demon-tormented
patient and the demon-actuated doctor, seer, or
priest. In a word, the confusion of these conceptions in the
// File: 134.png
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savage mind only fairly represents their intimate connexion
in the Possession-theory itself.

In the Australian-Tasmanian district, disease and death
are ascribed to more or less defined spiritual influences;
descriptions of a demon working a sorcerer’s wicked will by
coming slyly behind his victim and hitting him with his
club on the back of his neck, and of a dead man’s ghost
angered by having his name uttered, and creeping up into
the utterer’s body to consume his liver, are indeed peculiarly
graphic details of savage animism.[#] The theory of
disease-spirits is well stated in its extreme form among the
Mintira, a low race of the Malay peninsula. Their ‘hantu’
or spirits have among their functions that of causing ailments;
thus the ‘hantu kalumbahan’ causes small-pox;
the ‘hantu kamang’ brings on inflammation and swellings
in the hands and feet; when a person is wounded, the
‘hantu pari’ fastens on the wound and sucks, and this is
the cause of the blood flowing. And thus, as the describer
says, ‘To enumerate the remainder of the hantus would be
merely to convert the name of every species of disease
known to the Mintira into a proper one. If any new
disease appeared, it would be ascribed to a hantu bearing
the same name.’[#] It will help us to an idea of the distinct
personality which the disease-demon has in the minds of
the lower races, to notice the Orang Laut of this district
placing thorns and brush in the paths leading to a part
where small-pox had broken out, to keep the demons off;
just as the Khonds of Orissa try with thorns, and ditches,
and stinking oil poured on the ground, to barricade the paths
to their hamlets against the goddess of small-pox, Jugah
Pennu.[#] Among the Dayaks of Borneo, ‘to have been
smitten by a spirit’ is to be ill; sickness may be caused
// File: 135.png
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by invisible spirits inflicting invisible wounds with invisible
spears, or entering men’s bodies and driving out their souls,
or lodging in their hearts and making them raving mad.
In the Indian Archipelago, the personal semi-human nature
of the disease-spirits is clearly acknowledged by appeasing
them with feasts and dances and offerings of food set out
for them away in the woods, to induce them to quit their
victims, or by sending tiny proas to sea with offerings, that
spirits which have taken up their abode in sick men’s
bowels may embark and not come back.[#] The animistic
theory of disease is strongly marked in Polynesia, where
every sickness is ascribed to spiritual action of deities,
brought on by the offerings of enemies, or by the victim’s
violation of the laws of tapu. Thus in New Zealand each
ailment is caused by a spirit, particularly an infant or undeveloped
human spirit, which sent into the patient’s body
gnaws and feeds inside; and the exorcist, finding the path
by which such a disease-spirit came from below to feed on
the vitals of a sick relative, will persuade it by a charm to
get upon a flax-stalk and set off home. We hear, too, of
an idea of the parts of the body—forehead, breast, stomach,
feet, &c.—being apportioned each to a deity who inflicts
aches and pains and ailments there.[#] So in the Samoan
group, when a man was near death, people were anxious to
part on good terms with him, feeling assured that if he
died with angry feelings towards any one, he would certainly
return and bring calamity on that person or some one closely
allied to him. This was considered a frequent source of
disease and death, the spirit of a departed member of the
family returning and taking up his abode in the head, chest,
or stomach of a living man, and so causing sickness and
death. If a man died suddenly, it was thought that he was
// File: 136.png
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eaten by the spirit that took him; and though the soul of
one thus devoured would go to the common spirit-land of
the departed, yet it would have no power of speech there,
and if questioned could but beat its breast. It completes
this account to notice that the disease-inflicting souls of the
departed were the same which possessed the living under
more favourable circumstances, coming to talk through a
certain member of the family, prophesying future events,
and giving directions as to family affairs.[#] Farther east, in
the Georgian and Society Islands, evil demons are sent to
scratch and tear people into convulsions and hysterics, to
torment poor wretches as with barbed hooks, or to twist and
knot inside them till they die writhing in agony. But madmen
are to be treated with great respect, as entered by
a god, and idiots owe the kindness with which they are
appeased and coaxed to the belief in their superhuman
inspiration.[#] Here, and elsewhere in the lower culture,
the old real belief has survived which has passed into a
jest of civilized men in the famous phrase of the ‘inspired
idiot.’

American ethnography carries on the record of rude races
ascribing disease to the action of evil spirits. Thus the
Dacotas believe that the spirits punish them for misconduct,
especially for neglecting to make feasts for the dead; these
spirits have the power to send the spirit of something, as
of a bear, deer, turtle, fish, tree, stone, worm, or deceased
person, which entering the patient causes disease; the
medicine-man’s cure consists in reciting charms over him,
singing ‘He-le-li-lah, &c.,’ to the accompaniment of a
gourd-rattle with beads inside, ceremonially shooting a
symbolic bark representation of the intruding creature,
sucking over the seat of pain to get the spirit out, and
// File: 137.png
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firing guns at it as it is supposed to be escaping.[#] Such
processes were in full vogue in the West Indies in the time
of Columbus, when Friar Roman Pane put on record his
quaint account of the native sorcerer pulling the disease off
the patient’s legs (as one pulls off a pair of trousers), going
out of doors to blow it away, and bidding it begone to the
mountain or the sea; the performance concluding with the
regular sucking-cure and the pretended extraction of some
stone or bit of flesh, or such thing, which the patient is
assured that his patron-spirit or deity (cemi) put into him
to cause the disease, in punishment for neglect to build him
a temple or honour him with prayer or offerings of goods.[#]
Patagonians considered sickness as caused by a spirit entering
the patient’s body; ‘they believe every sick person to
be possessed of an evil demon; hence their physicians
always carry a drum with figures of devils painted on it,
which they strike at the beds of sick persons to drive out
from the body the evil demon which causes the disorder.’[#]
In Africa, according to the philosophy of the Basutos and
the Zulus, the causes of disease are the ghosts of the dead,
come to draw the living to themselves, or to compel them
to sacrifice meat-offerings. They are recognized by the
diviners, or by the patient himself, who sees in dreams the
departed spirit come to torment him. Congo tribes in like
manner consider the souls of the dead, passed into the ranks
of powerful spirits, to cause disease and death among mankind.
Thus, in both these districts, medicine becomes an
almost entirely religious matter of propitiatory sacrifice
and prayer addressed to the disease-inflicting manes. The
// File: 138.png
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Barolong give a kind of worship to deranged persons, as
being under the direct influence of a deity; while in East
Africa the explanation of madness and idiocy is simple
and typical—‘he has fiends.’[#] Negroes of West Africa, on
the supposition that an attack of illness has been caused
by some spiritual being, can ascertain to their satisfaction
what manner of spirit has done it, and why. The patient
may have neglected his ‘wong’ or fetish-spirit, who has
therefore made him ill; or it may be his own ‘kla’ or
personal guardian-spirit, who on being summoned explains
that he has not been treated respectfully enough, &c.; or
it may be a ‘sisa’ or ghost of some dead man, who has
taken this means of making known that he wants perhaps
a gold ornament that was left behind when he died.[#] Of
course, the means of cure will then be to satisfy the demands
of the spirit. Another aspect of the negro doctrine of
disease-spirits is displayed in the following description from
Guinea, by the Rev. <abbr rend=spell>J. L.</abbr> Wilson, the missionary:—‘Demoniacal
possessions are common, and the feats performed
by those who are supposed to be under such influence are
certainly not unlike those described in the New Testament.
Frantic gestures, convulsions, foaming at the mouth, feats
of supernatural strength, furious ravings, bodily lacerations,
gnashing of teeth, and other things of a similar character,
may be witnessed in most of the cases which are supposed
to be under diabolical influence.’[#] The remark several
times made by travellers is no doubt true, that the spiritualistic
theory of disease has tended strongly to prevent
progress in the medical art among the lower races. Thus
among the Bodo and Dhimal of North-East India, who
ascribe all diseases to a deity tormenting the patient for
some impiety or neglect, the exorcists divine the offended
// File: 139.png
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god and appease him with the promised sacrifice of a hog;
these exorcists are a class of priests, and the people have
no other doctors.[#] Where the world-wide doctrine of
disease-demons has held sway, men’s minds, full of spells
and ceremonies, have scarce had room for thought of drugs
and regimen.

The cases in which disease-possession passes into oracle-possession
are especially connected with hysterical, convulsive,
and epileptic affections. Mr. Backhouse describes a
Tasmanian native sorcerer, ‘affected with fits of spasmodic
contraction of the muscles of one breast, which he attributes,
as they do all other diseases, to the devil’; this malady
served to prove his inspiration to his people.[#] When Dr.
Mason was preaching near a village of heathen Pwo, a man
fell down in an epileptic fit, his familiar spirit having come
over him to forbid the people to listen to the missionary,
and he sang out his denunciations like one frantic. This
man was afterwards converted, and told the missionary that
‘he could not account for his former exercises, but that it
certainly appeared to him as though a spirit spoke, and he
must tell what was communicated.’ In this Karen district
flourishes the native ‘wee’ or prophet, whose business is
to work himself into the state in which he can see departed
spirits, visit their distant home, and even recall them to the
body, thus raising the dead; these wees are nervous excitable
men, such as would become mediums, and in giving
oracles they go into actual convulsions.[#] Dr. Callaway’s
details of the state of the Zulu diviners are singularly instructive.
Their symptoms are ascribed to possession by
‘amatongo’ or ancestral spirits; the disease is common,
from some it departs of its own accord, others have the
ghost laid which causes it, and others let the affection take
its course and become professional diviners, whose powers
of finding hidden things and giving apparently inaccessible
// File: 140.png
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information are vouched for by native witnesses, who at the
same time are not blind to their tricks and their failures.
The most perfect description is that of a hysterical visionary,
who had ‘the disease which precedes the power to
divine.’ This man describes that well-known symptom of
hysteria, the heavy weight creeping up within him to his
shoulders, his vivid dreams, his waking visions of objects
that are not there when he approaches, the songs that come
to him without learning, the sensation of flying in the air.
This man was ‘of a family who are very sensitive, and become
doctors.’[#] Persons whose constitutional unsoundness
induces morbid manifestations are indeed marked out by
nature to become seers and sorcerers. Among the Patagonians,
patients seized with falling sickness or <abbr=Saint>St.</abbr> Vitus’s
dance were at once selected for magicians, as chosen by the
demons themselves who possessed, distorted, and convulsed
them.[#] Among Siberian tribes, the shamans select children
liable to convulsions as suitable to be brought up to the
profession, which is apt to become hereditary with the
epileptic tendencies it belongs to.[#] Thus, even in the lower
culture, a class of sickly brooding enthusiasts begin to have
that power over the minds of their lustier fellows, which
they have kept in so remarkable a way through the course
of history.

Morbid oracular manifestations are habitually excited on
purpose, and moreover the professional sorcerer commonly
exaggerates or wholly feigns them. In the more genuine
manifestations the medium may be so intensely wrought
upon by the idea that a possessing spirit is speaking from
within him, that he may not only give this spirit’s name and
speak in its character, but possibly may in good faith alter
his voice to suit the spiritual utterance. This gift of spirit-utterance,
which belongs to ‘ventriloquism’ in the ancient
and proper sense of the term, of course lapses into sheer
// File: 141.png
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trickery. But that the phenomena should be thus artificially
excited or dishonestly counterfeited, rather confirms than
alters the present argument. Real or simulated, the details
of oracle-possession alike illustrate popular belief. The
Patagonian wizard begins his performance with drumming
and rattling till the real or pretended epileptic fit comes on
by the demon entering him, who then answers questions
from within him with a faint and mournful voice.[#] In
Southern India and Ceylon the so-called ‘devil-dancers’
have to work themselves into paroxysms, to gain the inspiration
whereby they profess to cure their patients.[#] So,
with furious dancing to the music and chanting of the
attendants, the Bodo priest brings on the fit of maniacal inspiration
in which the deity fills him and gives oracles
through him.[#] In Kamchatka the female shamans, when
Billukai came down into them in a thunderstorm, would
prophesy; or, receiving spirits with a cry of ‘hush!’ their
teeth chattered as in fever, and they were ready to divine.[#]
Among the Singpho of South-East Asia, when the ‘natzo’
or conjurer is sent for to a sick patient, he calls on his ‘nat’
or demon, the soul of a deceased foreign prince, who descends
into him and gives the required answers.[#] In the Pacific
Islands, spirits of the dead would enter for a time the body
of a living man, inspiring him to declare future events, or
to execute some commission from the higher deities. The
symptoms of oracular possession among savages have been
especially well described in this region of the world. The
Fijian priest sits looking steadfastly at a whale’s tooth
ornament, amid dead silence. In a few minutes he
trembles, slight twitchings of face and limbs come on,
which increase to strong convulsions, with swelling of
the veins, murmurs and sobs. Now the god has entered
// File: 142.png
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him, and with eyes rolling and protruding, unnatural voice,
pale face and livid lips, sweat streaming from every
pore, and the whole aspect of a furious madman, he gives
the divine answer, and then, the symptoms subsiding, he
looks round with a vacant stare, and the deity returns to
the land of spirits. In the Sandwich Islands, where the
god Oro thus gave his oracles, his priest ceased to act or
speak as a voluntary agent, but with his limbs convulsed,
his features distorted and terrific, his eyes wild and strained,
he would roll on the ground foaming at the mouth, and
reveal the will of the possessing god in shrill cries and
sounds violent and indistinct, which the attending priests
duly interpreted to the people. In Tahiti, it was often
noticed that men who in the natural state showed neither
ability nor eloquence, would in such convulsive delirium
burst forth into earnest lofty declamation, declaring the will
and answers of the gods, and prophesying future events,
in well-knit harangues full of the poetic figure and metaphor
of the professional orator. But when the fit was over,
and sober reason returned, the prophet’s gifts were gone.[#]
Lastly, the accounts of oracular possession in Africa show
the primitive ventriloquist in perfect types of morbid
knavery. In Sofala, after a king’s funeral, his soul would
enter into a sorcerer, and speaking in the familiar tones
that all the bystanders recognized, would give counsel to
the new monarch how to govern his people.[#] About a
century ago, a negro fetish-woman of Guinea is thus
described in the act of answering an enquirer who has come
to consult her. She is crouching on the earth, with her
head between her knees and her hands up to her face, till,
becoming inspired by the fetish, she snorts and foams and
gasps. Then the suppliant may put his question, ‘Will
my friend or brother get well of this sickness?’—‘What
shall I give thee to set him free from his sickness?’ and so
// File: 143.png
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forth. Then the fetish-woman answers in a thin, whistling
voice, and with the old-fashioned idioms of generations
past; and thus the suppliant receives his command, perhaps
to kill a white cock and put him at a four-cross way, or tie
him up for the fetish to come and fetch him, or perhaps
merely to drive a dozen wooden pegs into the ground, so to
bury his friend’s disease with them.[#]

The details of demoniacal possession among barbaric and
civilized nations need no elaborate description, so simply
do they continue the savage cases.[#] But the state of things
we notice here agrees with the conclusion that the possession-theory
belongs originally to the lower culture, and is
gradually superseded by higher medical knowledge. Surveying
its course through the middle and higher civilization, we
shall notice first a tendency to limit it to certain peculiar
and severe affections, especially connected with mental disorder,
such as epilepsy, hysteria, delirium, idiocy, madness;
and after this a tendency to abandon it altogether, in consequence
of the persistent opposition of the medical faculty.
Among the nations of South-East Asia, obsession and possessions
by demons is strong at least in popular belief. The
Chinese attacked with dizziness, or loss of the use of his
limbs, or other unaccountable disease, knows that he has
been influenced by a malignant demon, or punished for some
offence by a deity whose name he will mention, or affected
by his wife of a former existence, whose spirit has after a
long search discovered him. Exorcism of course exists, and
when the evil spirit or influence is expelled, it is especially
apt to enter some person standing near; hence the common
saying, ‘idle spectators should not be present at an exorcism.’
Divination by possessed mediums is usual in China:
among such is the professional woman who sits at a table in
contemplation, till the soul of a deceased person from whom
// File: 144.png
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communication is desired enters her body and talks through
her to the living; also the man into whom a deity is brought
by invocations and mesmeric passes, when, assuming the
divine figure and attitude, he pronounces the oracle.[#] In
Burma, the fever-demon of the jungle seizes trespassers on
his domain, and shakes them in ague till he is exorcised,
while falls and apoplectic fits are the work of other spirits.
The dancing of women by demoniacal possession is treated
by the doctor covering their heads with a garment, and
thrashing them soundly with a stick, the demon and not the
patient being considered to feel the blows; the possessing
spirit may be prevented from escaping by a knotted and
charmed cord hung round the bewitched person’s neck, and
when a sufficient beating has induced it to speak by the
patient’s voice and declare its name and business, it may
either be allowed to depart, or the doctor tramples on the
patient’s stomach till the demon is stamped to death. For
an example of invocation and offerings, one characteristic
story told by Dr. Bastian will suffice. A Bengali cook was
seized with an apoplectic fit, which his Burmese wife declared
was but a just retribution, for the godless fellow had gone
day after day to market to buy pounds and pounds of meat,
yet in spite of her remonstrances would never give a morsel
to the patron-spirit of the town; as a good wife, however,
she now did her best for her suffering husband, placing near
him little heaps of coloured rice for the ‘nat,’ and putting
on his fingers rings with prayers addressed to the same
offended being—‘Oh ride him not!’—‘Ah let him go!’—‘Grip
him not so hard!’—‘Thou shalt have rice!’—‘Ah,
how good that tastes!’ How explicitly Buddhism
recognizes such ideas, may be judged from one of the questions
officially put to candidates for admission as monks or
talapoins—‘Art thou afflicted by madness or the other ills
caused by giants, witches, or evil demons of the forest and
mountain?’[#] Within our own domain of British India,
// File: 145.png
.pn +1
the possession-theory and the rite of exorcism belonging
to it may be perfectly studied to this day. There the doctrine
of sudden ailment or nervous disease being due to a
blast or possession by a ‘bhut,’ or being, that is, a demon,
is recognized as of old; there the old witch who has possessed
a man and made him sick or deranged, will answer
spiritually out of his body and say who she is and where she
lives; there the frenzied demoniac may be seen raving,
writhing, tearing, bursting his bonds, till, subdued by the
exorcist, his fury subsides, he stares and sighs, falls helpless
to the ground, and comes to himself; and there the
deities caused by excitement, singing, and incense to enter
into men’s bodies, manifest their presence with the usual
hysterical or epileptic symptoms, and speaking in their own
divine name and personality, deliver oracles by the vocal
organs of the inspired medium.[#]

In the Ancient Babylonian-Assyrian texts, the exorcism-formulas
show the doctrine of disease-demons in full development,
and similar opinions were current in ancient
Greece and Rome, to whose languages indeed our own owes
the technical terms of the subject, such as ‘demoniac’ and
‘exorcist.’ Homer’s sick men racked with pain are tormented
by a hateful demon (<lang=grc>στυγερὸς δέ οἱ ἔχραε δαίμων</lang>).
‘Epilepsy’ (<lang=grc>ἐπίληψις</lang>) was, as its name imports, the ‘seizure’
of the patient by a superhuman agent: the agent being
more exactly defined in ‘nympholepsy,’ the state of being
seized or possessed by a nymph, i.e., rapt or entranced
(<lang=grc>νυμφόληπτος</lang>, <lang=la>lymphatus</lang>). The causation of mental derangement
and delirious utterance by spiritual possession
was an accepted tenet of Greek philosophy. To be insane
was simply to have an evil spirit, as when Sokrates said of
those who denied demonic or spiritual knowledge, that they
// File: 146.png
.pn +1
themselves were demoniac (<lang=grc>δαιμονᾶν ἔφη</lang>), and Alexander
ascribed to the influence of offended Dionysos the ungovernable
drunken fury in which he killed his friend Kleitos;
raving madness was obsession or possession by an evil
demon (<lang=grc>κἀκοδαιμονία</lang>). So the Romans called madmen
<lang=la>‘larvati,’ ‘larvarum pleni,’</lang> full of ghosts. Patients possessed
by demons stared and foamed, and the spirits spoke
from within them by their voices. The craft of the
exorcist was well known. As for oracular possession, its
theory and practice remained in fullest vigour through
the classic world, scarce altered from the times of lowest
barbarism. Could a South Sea Islander have gone to Delphi
to watch the convulsive struggles of the Pythia, and listen
to her raving, shrieking utterances, he would have needed
no explanation whatever of a rite so absolutely in conformity
with his own savage philosophy.[#]

The Jewish doctrine of possession[#] at no time in its long
course exercised a direct influence on the opinion of the
civilized world comparable to that produced by the mentions
of demoniacal possession in the New Testament. It is
needless to quote here even a selection from the familiar
passages of the Gospels and Acts which display the manner
in which certain described symptoms were currently accounted
for in public opinion. Regarding these documents
from an ethnographic point of view, it need only be said
that they prove, incidentally but absolutely, that Jews and
Christians at that time held the doctrine which had prevailed
for ages before, and continued to prevail for ages
after, referring to possession and obsession by spirits the
symptoms of mania, epilepsy, dumbness, delirious and
oracular utterance, and other morbid conditions, mental and
bodily.[#] Modern missionary works, such as have been cited
// File: 147.png
.pn +1
here, give the most striking evidence of the correspondence
of these demoniac symptoms with such as may still be
observed among uncivilized races. During the early
centuries of Christianity, demoniacal possession indeed
becomes peculiarly conspicuous, perhaps not from unusual
prevalence of the animistic theory of disease, but simply
because a period of intense religious excitement brought it
more than usually into requisition. Ancient ecclesiastical
records describe, under the well-known names of ‘dæmoniacs’
(<lang=grc>δαιμονιζόμενοι</lang>), ‘possessed’ (<lang=grc>κατεχόμενοι</lang>), ‘energumens’
(<lang=grc>ἐνεργούμενοι</lang>), the class of persons whose bodies
are seized or possessed by an evil spirit; such attacks
being frequently attended with great commotions and vexations
and disturbances of the body, occasioning sometimes
frenzy and madness, sometimes epileptic fits, and other
violent tossings and contortions. These energumens formed
a recognised part of an early Christian congregation, a
standing-place apart being assigned to them in the church.
The church indeed seems to have been the principal habitation
of these afflicted creatures, they were occupied out
of service-time in such work as sweeping, daily food was
provided for them, and they were under the charge of a
special order of clergy, the exorcists, whose religious function
was to cast out devils by prayer and adjuration and laying
on of hands. As to the usual symptoms of possession,
Justin, Tertullian, Chrysostom, Cyril, Minucius, Cyprian,
and other early Fathers, give copious descriptions of demons
entering into the bodies of men, disordering their health and
minds, driving them to wander among the tombs, forcing
them to writhe and wallow and rave and foam, howling and
declaring their own diabolical names by the patients’ voices,
but when overcome by conjuration or by blows administered
to their victims, quitting the bodies they had entered, and
acknowledging the pagan deities to be but devils.[#]
// File: 148.png
.pn +1

On a subject so familiar to educated readers I may be
excused from citing at length a vast mass of documents,
barbaric in nature and only more or less civilized in circumstance,
to illustrate the continuance of the doctrine of possession
and the rite of exorcism through the middle ages
and into modern times. A few salient examples will suffice.
For a type of medical details, we may instance the recipes
in the ‘Early English Leechdoms’: a cake of the ‘thost’
of a white hound baked with meal is to be taken against the
attack by dwarves (i.e. convulsions); a drink of herbs
worked up off clear ale with the aid of garlic, holy water,
and singing of masses, is to be drunk by a fiend-sick patient
out of a church bell. Philosophical argument may be followed
in the dissertations of the <lang=la>‘Malleus Maleficarum,’</lang>
concerning demons substantially inhabiting men and causing
illness in them, enquiries which may be pursued under the
auspices of Glanvil in the <lang=la>‘Saducismus Triumphatus.’</lang>
Historical anecdote bears record of the convulsive clairvoyant
demon who possessed Nicola Aubry, and under the
Bishop of Laon’s exorcism testified in an edifying manner
to the falsity of Calvinism; of Charles <abbr='the sixth'>VI.</abbr> of France, who
was possessed, and whose demon a certain priest tried in
vain to transfer into the bodies of twelve men who were
chained up to receive it; of the German woman at Elbingerode
who in a fit of toothache wished the devil might
enter into her teeth, and who was possessed by six demons
accordingly, which gave their names as Schalk der
Wahrheit, Wirk, Widerkraut, Myrrha, Knip, Stüp; of
George Lukins of Yatton, whom seven devils threw into
fits and talked and sang and barked out of, and who was
delivered by a solemn exorcism by seven clergymen at the
Temple Church at Bristol in the year 1788.[#] A strong
// File: 149.png
.pn +1
sense of the permanence of the ancient doctrine may be
gained from accounts of the state of public opinion in
Europe, from Greece and Italy to France, where within the
last century derangement and hysteria were still popularly
ascribed to possession and treated by exorcism, just as in
the dark ages.[#] In the year 1861, at Morzine, at the south
of the Lake of Geneva, there might be seen in full fury an
epidemic of diabolical possession worthy of a Red Indian
settlement or a negro kingdom of West Africa, an outburst
which the exorcisms of a superstitious priest had so aggravated
that there were a hundred and ten raving demoniacs
in that single village.[#] The following is from a letter
written in 1862 by <abbr rend=spell>Mgr.</abbr> Anouilh, a French missionary-bishop
in China. <lang=fr>‘Le croiriez-vous? dix villages se sont
convertis. Le diable est furieux et fait les cent coups. Il y
a eu, pendant les quinze jours que je viens de prêcher, cinq
ou six possessions. Nos catéchumènes avec l’eau bénite
chassent les diables, guérissent les malades. J’ai vu des
choses merveilleuses. Le diable m’est d’un grand secours
pour convertir les païens. Comme au temps de Notre-Seigneur,
quoique père du mensonge, il ne peut s’empêcher
de dire la vérité. Voyez ce pauvre possédé faisant mille
contorsions et disant à grands cris: “Pourquoi prêches-tu
la vraie religion? Je ne puis souffrir que tu m’enlèves mes
disciples.”—“Comment t’appelles-tu?” lui demande le catéchiste.
Après quelques refus: “Je suis l’envoyé de Lucifer”—“Combien
êtes-vous?”—“Nous sommes vingt-deux.”
“L’eau bénite et le signe de la croix ont délivré ce possédé.”’</lang>[#]
To conclude the series with a modern spiritualistic instance,
// File: 150.png
.pn +1
one of those where the mediums feel themselves entered and
acted through by a spirit other than their own soul. The
Rev. Mr. West of Philadelphia describes how a certain possessed
medium went through the sword exercise, and fell
down senseless; when he came to himself again, the spirit
within him declared itself to be the soul of a deceased ancestor
of the minister’s, who had fought and died in the American
War.[#] We in England now hardly hear of demoniacal possession
except as a historical doctrine of divines. We have discarded
from religious services the solemn ceremony of casting
out devils from the bodies of the possessed, a rite to this day
officially retained in the Rituals of the Greek and Roman
Churches. Cases of diabolical influence alleged from time
to time among ourselves are little noticed except by newspaper
paragraphs on superstition and imposture. If, however,
we desire to understand the doctrine of possession, its
origin and influence in the world, we must look beyond
countries where public opinion has passed into this stage,
and must study the demoniac theory as it still prevails in
lower and lowest levels of culture.

It has to be thoroughly understood that the changed aspect
of the subject in modern opinion is not due to disappearance
of the actual manifestations which early philosophy attributed
to demoniacal influence. Hysteria and epilepsy,
delirium and mania, and such like bodily and mental derangement,
still exist. Not only do they still exist, but
among the lower races, and in superstitious districts among
the higher, they are still explained and treated as of old. It
is not too much to assert that the doctrine of demoniacal
possession is kept up, substantially the same theory to
account for substantially the same facts, by half the human
race, who thus stand as consistent representatives of their
forefathers back into primitive antiquity. It is in the
civilized world, under the influence of the medical doctrines
which have been developing since classic times, that the
early animistic theory of these morbid phenomena has been
// File: 151.png
.pn +1
gradually superseded by views more in accordance with
modern science, to the great gain of our health and happiness.
The transition which has taken place in the famous
insane colony of Gheel in Belgium is typical. In old days,
the lunatics were carried there in crowds to be exorcised
from their demons at the church of <abbr=Saint>St.</abbr> Dymphna; to Gheel
they still go, but the physician reigns in the stead of the
exorcist. Yet wherever, in times old or new, demoniacal
influences are brought forward to account for affections
which scientific physicians now explain on a different
principle, care must be taken not to misjudge the ancient
doctrine and its place in history. As belonging to the
lower culture it is a perfectly rational philosophical theory
to account for certain pathological facts. But just as
mechanical astronomy gradually superseded the animistic
astronomy of the lower races, so biological pathology gradually
supersedes animistic pathology, the immediate operation
of personal spiritual beings in both cases giving place
to the operation of natural processes.

We now pass to the consideration of another great branch
of the lower religion of the world, a development of the
same principles of spiritual operation with which we have
become familiar in the study of the possession-theory. This
is the doctrine of Fetishism. Centuries ago, the Portuguese
in West Africa, noticing the veneration paid by the
negroes to certain objects, such as trees, fish, plants, idols,
pebbles, claws of beasts, sticks and so forth, very fairly
compared these objects to the amulets or talismans with
which they were themselves familiar, and called them <lang=pt><i>feitiço</i></lang>
or ‘charm,’ a word derived from Latin <lang=la><i>factitius</i></lang>, in the
sense of ‘magically artful.’ Modern French and English
adopted this word from the Portuguese as <lang=fr><i>fétiche</i></lang>, <i>fetish</i>,
although curiously enough both languages had already possessed
the word for ages in a different sense, Old French
<lang=fr><i>faitis</i></lang>, ‘well made, beautiful,’ which Old English adopted
as <i>fetys</i>, ‘well made, neat.’ It occurs in the commonest of
all quotations from Chaucer:
// File: 152.png
.pn +1

.pm verse-start
‘And Frensch sche spak ful faire and <i>fetysly</i>,
Aftur the scole of Stratford atte Bowe,
For Frensch of Parys was to hire unknowe.’
.pm verse-end

The President de Brosses, a most original thinker of the
<abbr=eighteenth>18th</abbr> century, struck by the descriptions of the African worship
of material and terrestrial objects, introduced the word
Fétichisme as a general descriptive term,[#] and since then it
has obtained great currency by Comte’s use of it to denote
a general theory of primitive religion, in which external
objects are regarded as animated by a life analogous to
man’s. It seems to me, however, more convenient to use
the word Animism for the doctrine of spirits in general, and
to confine the word Fetishism to that subordinate department
which it properly belongs to, namely, the doctrine of spirits
embodied in, or attached to, or conveying influence through,
certain material objects. Fetishism will be taken as including
the worship of ‘stocks and stones,’ and thence it
passes by an imperceptible gradation into Idolatry.

Any object whatsoever may be a fetish. Of course, among
the endless multitude of objects, not as we should say
physically active, but to which ignorant men ascribe mysterious
power, we are not to apply indiscriminately the idea
of their being considered vessels or vehicles or instruments
of spiritual beings. They may be mere signs or tokens set
up to represent ideal notions or ideal beings, as fingers or
sticks are set up to represent numbers. Or they may be
symbolic charms working by imagined conveyance of their
special properties, as an iron ring to give firmness, or a
kite’s foot to give swift flight. Or they may be merely regarded
in some undefined way as wondrous ornaments or
curiosities. The tendency runs through all human nature
to collect and admire objects remarkable in beauty, form,
quality, or scarceness. The shelves of ethnological museums
show heaps of the objects which the lower races treasure up
// File: 153.png
.pn +1
and hang about their persons—teeth and claws, roots and
berries, shells and stones, and the like. Now fetishes are in
great measure selected from among such things as these, and
the principle of their attraction for savage minds is clearly
the same which still guides the superstitious peasant in
collecting curious trifles ‘for luck.’ The principle is one
which retains its force in far higher ranges of culture than
the peasant’s. Compare the Ostyak’s veneration for any
peculiar little stone he has picked up, with the Chinese love
of collecting curious varieties of tortoise-shell, or an old-fashioned
English conchologist’s delight in a reversed shell.
The turn of mind which in a Gold-Coast negro would manifest
itself in a museum of monstrous and most potent
fetishes, might impel an Englishman to collect scarce
postage-stamps or queer walking-sticks. In the love of
abnormal curiosities there shows itself a craving for the
marvellous, an endeavour to get free from the tedious sense
of law and uniformity in nature. As to the lower races,
were evidence more plentiful as to the exact meaning they
attach to objects which they treat with mysterious respect,
it would very likely appear more often and more certainly
than it does now, that these objects seem to them connected
with the action of spirits, so as to be, in the strict sense in
which the word is here used, real fetishes. But this must
not be taken for granted. To class an object as a fetish,
demands explicit statement that a spirit is considered as
embodied in it or acting through it or communicating by it,
or at least that the people it belongs to do habitually think
this of such objects; or it must be shown that the object
is treated as having personal consciousness and power, is
talked with, worshipped, prayed to, sacrificed to, petted or
ill-treated with reference to its past or future behaviour to
its votaries. In the instances now selected, it will be seen
that in one way or another they more or less satisfy such
conditions. In investigating the exact significance of fetishes
in use among men, savage or more civilized, the peculiar
difficulty is to know whether the effect of the object is
// File: 154.png
.pn +1
thought due to a whole personal spirit embodied in or
attached to it, or to some less definable influence exerted
through it. In some cases this point is made clear, but
in many it remains doubtful.

It will help us to a clearer conception of the nature of a
fetish, to glance at a curious group of nations which connect
a disease at once with spiritual influence, and with the
presence of some material object. They are a set of illustrations
of the savage principle, that a disease or an actual
disease-spirit may exist embodied in a stick or stone or
such-like material object. Among the natives of Australia,
one hears of the sorcerers extracting from their own bodies
by passes and manipulations a magical essence called
‘boylya,’ which they can make to enter the patient’s body
like pieces of quartz, which causes pain there and consumes
the flesh, and may be magically extracted either as invisible
or in the form of a bit of quartz. Even the spirit of the
waters, ‘nguk-wonga,’ which had caused an attack of
erysipelas in a boy’s leg (he had been bathing too long
when heated) is declared to have been extracted by the
conjurers from the affected part in the shape of a sharp
stone.[#] The Caribs, who very distinctly referred diseases
to the action of hostile demons or deities, had a similar
sorcerer’s process of extracting thorns or splinters from the
affected part as the peccant causes, and it is said that in
the Antilles morsels of stone and bone so extracted were
wrapped up in cotton by the women, as protective fetishes
in childbirth.[#] The Malagasy, considering all diseases as
inflicted by an evil spirit, consult a diviner, whose method
is often to remove the disease by means of a ‘faditra;’
this is some object, such as a little grass, ashes, a sheep, a
pumpkin, the water the patient has rinsed his mouth with,
or what not, and when the priest has counted on it the evils
// File: 155.png
.pn +1
that may injure the patient, and charged the faditra to take
them away for ever, it is thrown away, and the malady with
it.[#] Among those strong believers in disease-spirits, the
Dayaks of Borneo, the priest, waving and jingling charms
over the affected part of the patient, pretends to extract
stones, splinters, and bits of rag, which he declares are
spirits; of such evil spirits he will occasionally bring half-a-dozen
out of a man’s stomach, and as he is paid a fee of
six gallons of rice for each, he is probably disposed (like a
chiropodist under similar circumstances) to extract a good
many.[#] The most instructive accounts of this kind are
those which reach us from Africa. Dr. Callaway has taken
down at length a Zulu account of the method of stopping
out disease caused by spirits of the dead. If a widow is
troubled by her late husband’s ghost coming and talking to
her night after night as though still alive, till her health is
affected and she begins to waste away, they find a ‘nyanga’
or sorcerer who can bar out the disease. He bids her not
lose the spittle collected in her mouth while she is dreaming,
and gives her medicine to chew when she wakes. Then
he goes with her to lay the ‘itongo,’ or ghost; perhaps
he shuts it up in a bulb of the inkomfe plant, making a
hole in the side of this, putting in the medicine and the
dream-spittle, closing the hole with a stopper, and re-planting
the bulb. Leaving the place, he charges her not
to look back till she gets home. Thus the dream is barred;
it may still come occasionally, but no longer infests the
woman; the doctor prevails over the dead man as regards
that dream. In other cases the cure of a sick man attacked
by the ancestral spirits may be effected with some of his
blood put into a hole in an anthill by the doctor, who closes
the hole with a stone, and departs without looking back; or
the patient may be scarified over the painful place, and the
blood put into the mouth of a frog, caught for the purpose
and carried back. So the disease is barred out from the
// File: 156.png
.pn +1
man.[#] In West Africa, a case in point is the practice of
transferring a sick man’s ailment to a live fowl, which is set
free with it, and if any one catches the fowl, the disease
goes to him.[#] Captain Burton’s account from Central Africa
is as follows. Disease being possession by a spirit or ghost,
the ‘mganga’ or sorcerer has to expel it, the principal
remedies being drumming, dancing, and drinking, till at
last the spirit is enticed from the body of the patient into
some inanimate article, technically called a ‘keti’ or stool
for it. This may be an ornament, such as a peculiar bead
or a leopard’s claw, or it may be a nail or rag, which by
being driven into or hung to a ‘devil’s tree’ has the effect
of laying the disease-spirit. Or disease-spirits may be extracted
by chants, one departing at the end of each stave,
when a little painted stick made for it is flung on the
ground, and some patients may have as many as a dozen
ghosts extracted, for here also the fee is so much apiece.[#]
In Siam, the Laos sorcerer can send his ‘phi phob’ or
demon into a victim’s body, where it turns into a fleshy or
leathery lump, and causes disease ending in death.[#] Thus,
on the one hand, the spirit-theory of disease is seen to
be connected with that sorcerer’s practice prevalent among
the lower races, of pretending to extract objects from
the patient’s body, such as stones, bones, balls of hair,
&c., which are declared to be causes of disease conveyed
by magical means into him; of this proceeding I have
given a detailed account elsewhere, under the name of
the ‘sucking-cure.’[#] On the other hand, there appears
among the lower races that well-known conception of a
disease or evil influence as an individual being, which may
be not merely conveyed by an infected object (though this
of course may have much to do with the idea), but may be
// File: 157.png
.pn +1
removed by actual transfer from the patient into some other
animal or object. Thus Pliny informs us how pains in the
stomach may be cured by transmitting the ailment from the
patient’s body into a puppy or duck, which will probably
die of it;[#] it is considered baneful to a Hindu woman to be
a man’s third wife, wherefore the precaution is taken of
first betrothing him to a tree, which dies in her stead;[#]
after the birth of a Chinese baby, its father’s trousers are
hung in the room wrong side up, that all evil influences
may enter into them instead of into the child.[#] Modern
folklore still cherishes such ideas. The ethnographer may
still study in the ‘white witchcraft’ of European peasants
the arts of curing a man’s fever or headache by transferring
it to a crawfish or a bird, or of getting rid of ague or gout
or warts by giving them to a willow, elder, fir, or ash-tree,
with suitable charms, ‘Goe morgen, olde, ick geef oe de
Kolde,’ ‘Goden Abend, Herr Fleder, hier bring ick mien
Feber, ick bind em di an und gah davan,’ ‘Ash-tree,
ashen tree, pray buy this wart of me,’ and so forth; or of
nailing or plugging an ailment into a tree-trunk, or conveying
it away by some of the patient’s hair or nail-parings
or some such thing, and so burying it. Looking at these
proceedings from a moral point of view, the practice of
transferring the ailment to a knot or a lock of hair and
burying it is the most harmless, but another device is a
very pattern of wicked selfishness. In England, warts may
be touched each with a pebble, and the pebbles in a bag left
on the road to church, to give up their ailments to the unlucky
finder; in Germany, a plaister from a sore may be
left at a cross-way to transfer the disease to a passer-by;
I am told on medical authority that the bunches of flowers
which children offer to travellers in Southern Europe are
sometimes intended for the ungracious purpose of sending
some disease away from their homes.[#] One case of this
// File: 158.png
.pn +1
group, mentioned to me by Mr. Spottiswoode, is particularly
interesting. In Thuringia it is considered that a
string of rowan-berries, a rag, or any small article, touched
by a sick person and then hung on a bush beside some
forest path, imparts the malady to any person who may
touch this article in passing, and frees the sick person from
the disease. This gives great probability to Captain Burton’s
suggestion that the rags, locks of hair, and what not,
hung on trees near sacred places by the superstitious from
Mexico to India and from Ethiopia to Ireland, are deposited
there as actual receptacles of disease; the African
‘devil’s trees’ and the sacred trees of Sindh, hung with
rags through which votaries have transferred their complaints,
being typical cases of a practice surviving in lands
of higher culture.

The spirits which enter or otherwise attach themselves to
objects may be human souls. Indeed one of the most
natural cases of the fetish-theory is when a soul inhabits or
haunts what is left of its former body. It is plain enough
that by a simple association of ideas the dead person is
imagined to keep up a connexion with his remains. Thus
we read of the Mandan women going year after year to take
food to the skulls of their dead kinsfolk, and sitting by the
hour to chat and jest in their most endearing strain with
the relics of a husband or child;[#] thus the Guinea negroes,
who keep the bones of parents in chests, will go to talk
with them in the little huts which serve for their tombs.[#]
And thus, from the savage who keeps and carries with his
household property the cleaned bones of his forefathers,[#] to
// File: 159.png
.pn +1
the mourner among ourselves who goes to weep at the grave
of one beloved, imagination keeps together the personality
and the relics of the dead. Here, then, is a course of
thought open to the animistic thinker, leading him on from
fancied association to a belief in the real presence of a
spiritual being in a material object. Thus there is no
difficulty in understanding how the Karens thought the
spirits of the dead might come back from the other world
to reanimate their bodies;[#] nor how the Marian islanders
should have kept the dried bodies of their dead ancestors
in their huts as household gods, and even expected them to
give oracles out of their skulls;[#] nor how the soul of a
dead Carib might be thought to abide in one of his bones,
taken from the grave and carefully wrapped in cotton, in
which state it could answer questions, and even bewitch an
enemy if a morsel of his property were wrapped up with it;[#]
nor how the dead Santal should be sent to his fathers by the
ceremony of committing to the sacred river morsels of his
skull from the funeral-pile.[#] Such ideas are of great interest
in studying the burial rites of mankind, especially the habit
of keeping relics of the dead as vehicles of superhuman
power, and of even preserving the whole body as a mummy,
as in Peru and Egypt. The conception of such human
relics becoming fetishes, inhabited or at least acted through
by the souls which formerly belonged to them, will give a
rational explanation of much relic-worship otherwise
obscure.

A further stretch of imagination enables the lower races
to associate the souls of the dead with mere objects, a
practice which may have had its origin in the merest childish
make-believe, but which would lead a thorough savage
animist straight on to the conception of the soul entering
// File: 160.png
.pn +1
the object as a body. Mr. Darwin saw two Malay women
in Keeling Island who held a wooden spoon dressed in
clothes like a doll; this spoon had been carried to the grave
of a dead man, and becoming inspired at full moon, in fact
lunatic, it danced about convulsively like a table or a hat
at a modern spirit-séance.[#] Among the Salish Indians of
Oregon, the conjurers bring back men’s lost souls as little
stones or bones or splinters, and pretend to pass them down
through the tops of their heads into their hearts, but great
care must be taken to remove the spirits of any dead
people that may be in the lot, for the patient receiving one
would die.[#] There are indigenous Kol tribes of India who
work out this idea curiously in bringing back the soul of a
deceased man into the house after the funeral, apparently
to be worshipped as a household spirit; while some catch
the spirit re-embodied in a fowl or fish, the Binjwar of Raepore
bring it home in a pot of water, and the Bunjia in a
pot of flour.[#] The Chinese hold such theories with extreme
distinctness, considering one of a man’s three spirits to take
up its abode in the ancestral tablet, where it receives
messages and worship from the survivors; while the long
keeping of the dead man’s gilt and lacquered coffin, and the
reverence and offerings continued at the tomb, are connected
with the thought of a spirit lingering about the corpse.
Consistent with these quaint ideas are ceremonies in vogue
in China, of bringing home in a cock (live or artificial) the
spirit of a man deceased in a distant place, and of enticing
into a sick man’s coat the departing spirit which has already
left his body, and so conveying it back.[#] Tatar folklore
illustrates the idea of soul-embodiment in the quaint but
intelligible story of the demon-giant who could not be slain,
for he did not keep his soul in his body, but in a twelve-headed
// File: 161.png
.pn +1
snake carried in a bag on his horse’s back; the hero
finds out the secret and kills the snake, and then the giant
dies too. This tale is curious, as very likely indicating the
original sense of a well-known group of stories in European
folklore, the Scandinavian one, for instance, where the giant
cannot be made an end of, because he keeps his heart not
in his body, but in a duck’s egg in a well far away; at last
the young champion finds the egg and crushes it, and the
giant bursts.[#] Following the notion of soul-embodiment
into civilized times, we learn that ‘A ghost may be laid for
any term less than an hundred years, and in any place or
body, full or empty; as, a solid oak—the pommel of a sword—a
barrel of beer, if a yeoman or simple gentleman—or a
pipe of wine, if an esquire or a justice.’ This is from
Grose’s bantering description in the <abbr=eighteenth>18th</abbr> century of the art
of ‘laying’ ghosts,[#] and it is one of the many good instances
of articles of serious savage belief surviving as jests among
civilized men.

Thus other spiritual beings, roaming free about the world,
find fetish-objects to act through, to embody themselves in,
to present them visibly to their votaries. It is extremely
difficult to draw a distinct line of separation between the
two prevailing sets of ideas relating to spiritual action
through what we call inanimate objects. Theoretically we
can distinguish the notion of the object acting as it were by
the will and force of its own proper soul or spirit, from the
notion of some foreign spirit entering its substance or acting
on it from without, and so using it as a body or instrument.
But in practice these conceptions blend almost
inextricably. This state of things is again a confirmation
of the theory of animism here advanced, which treats both
sets of ideas as similar developments of the same original
// File: 162.png
.pn +1
idea, that of the human soul, so that they may well shade
imperceptibly into one another. To depend on some
typical descriptions of fetishism and its allied doctrines in
different grades of culture, is a safer mode of treatment than
to attempt too accurate a general definition.

There is a quaint story, dating from the time of Columbus,
which shows what mysterious personality and power rude
tribes could attach to lifeless matter. The cacique Hatuey,
it is related, heard by his spies in Hispaniola that the
Spaniards were coming to Cuba. So he called his people
together, and talked to them of the Spaniards—how they
persecuted the natives of the islands, and how they did such
things for the sake of a great lord whom they much desired
and loved. Then, taking out a basket with gold in it, he
said, ‘Ye see here their lord whom they serve and go after;
and, as ye have heard, they are coming hither to seek this
lord. Therefore let us make him a feast, that when they
come he may tell them not to do us harm.’ So they danced
and sang from night to morning before the gold-basket, and
then the cacique told them not to keep the Christian’s lord
anywhere, for if they kept him in their very bowels they
would have to bring him out; so he bade them cast him to
the bottom of the river, and this they did.[#] If this story
be thought too good to be true, at any rate it does not
exaggerate authentic savage ideas. The ‘maraca’ or ceremonial
rattle, used by certain rude Brazilian tribes, was an
eminent fetish. It was a calabash with a handle and a hole
for a mouth, and stones inside; yet to its votaries it seemed
no mere rattle, but the receptacle of a spirit that spoke from
it when shaken; therefore the Indians set up their maracas,
talked to them, set food and drink and burned incense before
them, held annual feasts in their honour, and would
even go to war with their neighbours to satisfy the rattle-spirits’
demand for human victims.[#] Among the North
American Indians, the fetish-theory seems involved in that
// File: 163.png
.pn +1
remarkable and general proceeding known as getting
‘medicine.’ Each youth obtains in a vision or dream a
sight of his medicine, and considering how thoroughly the
idea prevails that the forms seen in visions and dreams are
spirits, this of itself shows the animistic nature of the
matter. The medicine thus seen may be an animal, or part
of one, such as skin or claws, feather or shell, or such a
thing as a plant, a stone, a knife, a pipe; this object he
must obtain, and thenceforward through life it becomes his
protector. Considered as a vehicle or receptacle of a spirit,
its fetish-nature is shown in many ways; its owner will do
homage to it, make feasts in its honour, sacrifice horses,
dogs, and other valuable objects to it or its spirit, fast to
appease it if offended, have it burned with him to conduct
him as a guardian-spirit to the happy hunting-grounds.
Beside these special protective objects, the Indians, especially
the medicine-men (the word is French, <lang=fr>‘médecin,’</lang> applied
to these native doctors or conjurers, and since stretched to
take in all that concerns their art), use multitudes of other
fetishes as means of spiritual influence.[#] Among the
Turanian tribes of Northern Asia, where Castrén describes
the idea of spirits contained in material objects, to which
they belong, and wherein they dwell in the same incomprehensible
way as the souls in a man’s body, we may notice
the Ostyak’s worship of objects of scarce or peculiar quality,
and also the connexion of the shamans or sorcerers with
fetish-objects, as where the Tatars consider the innumerable
rags and tags, bells and bits of iron, that adorn the
shaman’s magic costume, to contain spirits helpful to their
owner in his magic craft.[#] John Bell, in his journey across
Asia in 1719, relates a story which well illustrates Mongol
ideas as to the action of self-moving objects. A certain
Russian merchant told him that once some pieces of damask
// File: 164.png
.pn +1
were stolen out of his tent. He complained, and the
Kutuchtu Lama ordered the proper steps to be taken to find
out the thief. One of the Lamas took a bench with four
feet, and after turning it several times in different directions,
at last it pointed directly to the tent where the stolen goods
lay concealed. The Lama now mounted astride the bench,
and soon carried it, or, as was commonly believed, it carried
him, to the very tent, where he ordered the damask to be
produced. The demand was directly complied with: for it
is vain in such cases to offer any excuse.[#]

A more recent account from Central Africa may be placed
as a pendant to this Asiatic account of divination by a fetish-object.
The Rev. <abbr rend=spell>H.</abbr> Rowley says of the Manganja, that
they believed the medicine-men could impart a power for
good or evil to objects either animate or inanimate, which
objects the people feared, though they did not worship them.
This missionary once saw this art employed to detect the
thief who had stolen some corn. The people assembled
round a large fig-tree. The magician, a wild-looking man,
produced two sticks, like our broomsticks, which after
mysterious manipulation and gibberish he delivered to four
young men, two holding each stick. A zebra-tail and a
calabash-rattle were given to a young man and a boy. The
medicine-man rolled himself about in hideous fashion, and
chanted an unceasing incantation; the bearers of the tail
and rattle went round the stick-holders, and shook these
implements over their heads. After a while the men with
the sticks had spasmodic twitchings of the arms and legs,
these increased nearly to convulsions, they foamed at the
mouth, their eyes seemed starting from their heads, they
realized to the full the idea of demoniacal possession.
According to the native notion, it was the sticks which were
possessed primarily, and through them the men, who could
hardly hold them. The sticks whirled and dragged the men
round and round like mad, through bush and thorny shrub,
and over every obstacle, nothing stopped them, their bodies
// File: 165.png
.pn +1
were torn and bleeding; at last they came back to the
assembly, whirled round again, and rushed down the path
to fall panting and exhausted in the hut of one of a chief’s
wives, the sticks rolling to her very feet, denouncing her as
the thief. She denied it, but the medicine-man answered,
‘The spirit has declared her guilty, the spirit never lies.’
However, the ‘muavi’ or ordeal-poison was administered
to a cock, as deputy for the woman; the bird threw it up,
and she was acquitted.[#]

Fetishism in the lower civilization is thus by no means
confined to the West African negro with whom we specially
associate the term. Yet, what with its being in fact extremely
prevalent there, and what with the attention of
foreign observers having been particularly drawn to it, the
accounts from West Africa are certainly the fullest and
most minute on record. The late Professor Waitz’s
generalization of the principle involved in these is much to
the purpose. He thus describes the negro’s conception
of his fetish. ‘According to his view, a spirit dwells or can
dwell in every sensible object, and often a very great and
mighty one in an insignificant thing. This spirit he does
not consider as bound fast and unchangeably to the corporeal
thing it dwells in, but it has only its usual or principal
abode in it. The negro indeed in his conception not uncommonly
separates the spirit from the sensible object
which it inhabits, he even sometimes contrasts the one with
the other, but most usually combines the two as forming a
whole, and this whole is (as the Europeans call it) the
“fetish,” the object of his religious worship.’ Some further
particulars will show how this principle is worked out.
Fetishes (native names for them are ‘grigri,’ ‘juju,’
&c.) may be mere curious mysterious objects that strike a
negro’s fancy, or they may be consecrated or affected by
a priest or fetish-man; the theory of their influence is that
they belong to or are made effectual by a spirit or demon
yet they have to stand the test of experience, and if they
// File: 166.png
.pn +1
fail to bring their owner luck and safety, he discards them
for some more powerful medium. The fetish can see and
hear and understand and act, its possessor worships it,
talks familiarly with it as a dear and faithful friend, pours
libations of rum over it, and in times of danger calls loudly
and earnestly on it as if to wake up its spirit and energy.
To give an idea of the sort of things which are chosen as
fetishes, and of the manner in which they are associated
with spiritual influences, Römer’s account from Guinea
about a century ago may serve. In the fetish-house, he
says, there hang or lie thousands of rubbishy trifles, a pot
with red earth and a cock’s feather stuck in it, pegs wound
over with yarn, red parrots’ feathers, men’s hair, and so
forth. The principal thing in the hut is the stool for the
fetish to sit on, and the mattress for him to rest on, the
mattress being no bigger than a man’s hand and the stool
in proportion, and there is a little bottle of brandy always
ready for him. Here the word fetish is used as it often is,
to denote the spirit which dwells in this rudimentary temple,
but we see that the innumerable quaint trifles which we call
fetishes were associated with the deity in his house. Römer
once peeped in at an open door, and found an old negro
caboceer sitting amid twenty thousand fetishes in his private
fetish-museum, thus performing his devotions. The old
man told him he did not know the hundredth part of the
use they had been to him; his ancestors and he had collected
them, each had done some service. The visitor took
up a stone about as big as a hen’s egg, and its owner told
its history. He was once going out on important business,
but crossing the threshold he trod on this stone and hurt
himself. Ha ha! thought he, art thou here? So he took
the stone, and it helped him through his undertaking for
days. In our own time, West Africa is still a world of
fetishes. The traveller finds them on every path, at every
ford, on every house-door, they hang as amulets round
every man’s neck, they guard against sickness or inflict it
if neglected, they bring rain, they fill the sea with fishes
// File: 167.png
.pn +1
willing to swim into the fisherman’s net, they catch and
punish thieves, they give their owner a bold heart and confound
his enemies, there is nothing that the fetish cannot
do or undo, if it be but the right fetish. Thus the one-sided
logic of the barbarian, making the most of all that fits
and glossing over all that fails, has shaped a universal
fetish-philosophy of the events of life. So strong is the
pervading influence, that the European in Africa is apt to
catch it from the negro, and himself, as the saying is,
‘become black.’ Thus even yet some traveller, watching
a white companion asleep, may catch a glimpse of some
claw or bone or such-like sorcerer’s trash secretly fastened
round his neck.[#]

European life, lastly, shows well-marked traces of the
ancient doctrine of spirits or mysterious influences inhabiting
objects. Thus a mediæval devil might go into an old
sow, a straw, a barleycorn, or a willow-tree. A spirit might
be carried about in a solid receptacle for use:—

.pm verse-start
‘Besides in glistering glasses fayre, or else in christall cleare,
They sprightes enclose.’
.pm verse-end

Modern peasant folklore knows that spirits must have some
animal body or other object to dwell in, a feather, a bag, a
bush, for instance. The Tyrolese object to using grass for
toothpicks because of the demons that may have taken up
their abode in the straws. The Bulgarians hold it a great
sin not to fumigate the flour when it is brought from the
mill (particularly if the mill be kept by a Turk) in order to
prevent the devil from entering into it.[#] Amulets are still
carried in the most civilized countries of the world, by the
// File: 168.png
.pn +1
ignorant and superstitious with real savage faith in their
mysterious virtues, by the more enlightened in quaint survival
from the past. The mental and physical phenomena
of what is now called ‘table-turning’ belong to a class of
proceedings which have here been shown to be familiar to
the lower races, and accounted for by them on a theory of
extra-human influence which is in the most extreme sense
spiritualistic.

In giving its place in the history of mental development
to the doctrine of the lower races as to embodiment in or
penetration of an object by a spirit or an influence, there is
no slight interest in comparing it with theories familiar to
the philosophy of cultured nations. Thus Bishop Berkeley
remarks on the obscure expressions of those who have described
the relation of power to the objects which exert it.
He cites Torricelli as likening matter to an enchanted vase
of Circe serving as a receptacle of force, and declaring that
power and impulse are such subtle abstracts and refined
quintessences, that they cannot be enclosed in any other
vessels but the inmost materiality of natural solids; also
Leibnitz as comparing active primitive power to soul or
substantial form. Thus, says Berkeley, must even the
greatest men, when they give way to abstraction, have recourse
to words having no certain signification, and indeed
mere scholastic shadows.[#] We may fairly add that such
passages show the civilized metaphysician falling back on
such primitive conceptions as still occupy the minds of the
rude natives of Siberia and Guinea. To go yet farther, I
will venture to assert that the scientific conceptions current
in my own schoolboy days, of heat and electricity as invisible
fluids passing in and out of solid bodies, are ideas
which reproduce with extreme closeness the special doctrine
of Fetishism.

Under the general heading of Fetishism, but for convenience’
sake separately, may be considered the worship of
‘stocks and stones.’ Such objects, if merely used as
// File: 169.png
.pn +1
altars, are not of the nature of fetishes, and it is first
necessary to ascertain that worship is actually addressed
to them. Then arises the difficult question, are the stocks
and stones set up as mere ideal representatives of deities,
or are these deities considered as physically connected with
them, embodied in them, hovering about them, acting
through them? In other words, are they only symbols, or
have they passed in the minds of their votaries into real
fetishes? The conceptions of the worshippers are sometimes
in this respect explicitly stated, may sometimes be fairly
inferred from the circumstances, and are often doubtful.

Among the lower races of America, the Dacotas would
pick up a round boulder, paint it, and then, addressing it
as grandfather, make offerings to it and pray to it to deliver
them from danger;[#] in the West India Islands, mention is
made of three stones to which the natives paid great devotion—one
was profitable for the crops, another for women
to be delivered without pain, the third for sunshine and
rain when they were wanted;[#] and we hear of Brazilian
tribes setting up stakes in the ground, and making offerings
before them to appease their deities or demons.[#] Stone-worship
held an important place in the midst of the comparatively
high culture of Peru, where not only was reverence
given to especial curious pebbles and the like, but
stones were placed to represent the penates of households
and the patron-deities of villages. It is related by Montesinos
that when the worship of a certain sacred stone was
given up, a parrot flew from it into another stone, to which
adoration was paid: and though this author is not of good
credit, he can hardly have invented a story which, as we
shall see, so curiously coincides with the Polynesian idea of
a bird conveying to and from an idol the spirit which embodies
itself in it.[#]
// File: 170.png
.pn +1

In Africa, stock-and-stone worship is found among the
Damaras of the South, whose ancestors are represented at
the sacrificial feasts by stakes cut from trees or bushes consecrated
to them, to which stakes the meat is first offered;[#]
among the Dinkas of the White Nile, where the missionaries
saw an old woman in her hut offering the first of her food
and drink before a short thick staff planted in the ground,
that the demon might not hurt her;[#] among the Gallas of
Abyssinia, a people with a well-marked doctrine of deities,
and who are known to worship stones and logs, but not
idols.[#] In the island of Sambawa, the Orang Dongo attribute
all supernatural or incomprehensible force to the sun,
moon, trees, &c., but especially to stones, and when troubled
by accident or disease, they carry offerings to certain stones
to implore the favour of their genius or dewa.[#] Similar
ideas are to be traced through the Pacific islands, both
among the lighter and the darker races. Thus in the
Society Islands, rude logs or fragments of basalt columns,
clothed in native cloth and anointed with oil, received
adoration and sacrifice as divinely powerful by virtue of the
atua or deity which had filled them.[#] So in the New
Hebrides worship was given to water-worn pebbles,[#] while
Fijian gods and goddesses had their abodes or shrines in
black stones like smooth round milestones, and there received
their offerings of food.[#] The curiously anthropomorphic
idea of stones being husbands and wives, and even
having children, is familiar to the Fijians as it is to the
Peruvians and the Lapps.

The Turanian tribes of North Asia display stock-and-stone
worship in full sense and vigour. Not only were
// File: 171.png
.pn +1
stones, especially curious ones and such as were like men
or animals, objects of veneration, but we learn that they
were venerated because mighty spirits dwelt in them. The
Samoyed travelling ark-sledge, with its two deities, one
with a stone head, the other a mere black stone, both
dressed in green robes with red lappets, and both smeared
with sacrificial blood, may serve as a type of stone-worship.
And as for the Ostyaks, had the famous King Log presented
himself among them, they would without more ado have
wrapped his sacred person in rags, and set him up for
worship on a mountain-top or in the forest.[#] The frequent
stock-and-stone worship of modern India belongs especially
to races non-Hindu or part-Hindu in race and culture.
Among such may serve as examples the bamboo which
stands for the Bodo goddess Mainou, and for her receives
the annual hog, and the monthly eggs offered by the women;[#]
the stone under the great cotton-tree of every Khond village,
shrine of Nadzu Pennu the village deity;[#] the clod or stone
under a tree, which in Behar will represent the deified soul
of some dead personage who receives worship and inspires
oracles there;[#] the stone kept in every house by the Bakadâra
and Betadâra, which represents their god Bûta, whom
they induce by sacrifice to restrain the demon-souls of the
dead from troubling them;[#] the two rude stones placed
under a shed among the Shanars of Tinnevelly, by the
medium of which the great god and goddess receive sacrifice,
but which are thrown away or neglected when done
with.[#] The remarkable groups of standing-stones in India
are, in many cases at least, set up for each stone to represent
// File: 172.png
.pn +1
or embody a deity. Mr. Hislop remarks that in every part
of Southern India, four or five stones may often be seen in
the ryot’s field, placed in a row and daubed with red paint,
which they consider as guardians of the field and call the
five Pândus; he reasonably takes these Hindu names to
have superseded more ancient native appellations. In the
Indian groups it is a usual practice to daub each stone with
red paint, forming as it were a great blood-spot where the
face would be if it were a shaped idol.[#] In India, moreover,
the rites of stone-worship are not unexampled among the
Hindus proper. Shashtî, protectress of children, receives
worship, vows, and offerings, especially from women; yet
they provide her with no idol or temple, but her proper
representative is a rough stone as big as a man’s head,
smeared with red paint and set at the foot of the sacred
vata-tree. Even Siva is worshipped as a stone, especially
that Siva who will afflict a child with epileptic fits, and then,
speaking by its voice, will announce that he is Panchânana
the Five-faced, and is punishing the child for insulting his
image; to this Siva, in the form of a clay idol or of a stone
beneath a sacred tree, there are offered not only flowers and
fruits, but also bloody sacrifices.[#]

This stone-worship among the Hindus seems a survival
of a rite belonging originally to a low civilization, probably
a rite of the rude indigenes of the land, whose religion,
largely incorporated into the religion of the Aryan invaders,
has contributed so much to form the Hinduism of to-day.
It is especially interesting to survey the stock-and-stone
worship of the lower culture, for it enables us to explain by
the theory of survival the appearance in the Old World, in
the very midst of classic doctrine and classic art, of the
// File: 173.png
.pn +1
worship of the same rude objects, whose veneration no
doubt dated from remote barbaric antiquity. As Mr. Grote
says, speaking of Greek worship, ‘The primitive memorial
erected to a god did not even pretend to be an image, but
was often nothing more than a pillar, a board, a shapeless
stone or a post, receiving care and decoration from the
neighbourhood, as well as worship.’ Such were the log
that stood for Artemis in Eubœa, the stake that represented
Pallas Athene, <lang=la>‘sine effigie rudis palus, et informe
lignum,’</lang> the unwrought stone (<lang=grc>λίθος ἀργός</lang>) at Hyettos
which ‘after the ancient manner’ represented Herakles,
the thirty such stones which the Pharæans in like archaic
fashion worshipped for the gods, and that one which received
such honour in Bœotian festivals as representing
the Thespian Eros. Theophrastus, in the <abbr=fourth>4th</abbr> century <abbr rend=spell><sc>B.C.</sc></abbr>,
depicts the superstitious Greek passing the anointed stones
in the streets, taking out his phial and pouring oil on them,
falling on his knees to adore, and going his way. Six centuries
later, Arnobius could describe from his own heathen
life the state of mind of the stock-and-stone worshipper,
telling how when he saw one of the stones anointed with
oil, he accosted it in flattering words, and asked benefits
from the senseless thing as though it contained a present
power.[#] The ancient and graphic passage in the book of
Isaiah well marks stone-worship within the range of the
Semitic race:

.pm verse-start
‘Among the smooth stones of the valley is thy portion:
They, they are thy lot:
Even to them hast thou poured a drink-offering,
Hast thou offered a meat-offering.’[#]
.pm verse-end

Long afterwards, among the local deities which Mohammed
// File: 174.png
.pn +1
found in Arabia, and which Dr. Sprenger thinks he even
acknowledged as divine during a moment when he well-nigh
broke down in his career, were Manah and Lât, the one a
rock, the other a stone or a stone idol; while the veneration
of the black stone of the Kaaba, which Captain Burton
thinks an aërolite, was undoubtedly a local rite which the
Prophet transplanted into his new religion, where it
flourishes to this day.[#] The curious passage in Sanchoniathon
which speaks of the Heaven-god forming the ‘bætyls,
animated stones’ (<lang=grc>θεὸς Οὐρανὸς Βαιτύλια, λίθους ἐμψύχους,
μηχανησάμενος</lang>) perhaps refers to meteorites or supposed
thunderbolts fallen from the clouds. To the old Phœnician
religion, which made so deep a contact with the Jewish world
on the one side and the Greek and Roman on the other,
there belonged the stone pillars of Baal and the wooden
ashera-posts, but how far these objects were of the character
of altars, symbols, or fetishes, is a riddle.[#] We may still
say with Tacitus, describing the conical pillar which stood
instead of an image to represent the Paphian Venus—<lang=la>‘et
ratio in obscuro.’</lang>

There are accounts of formal Christian prohibitions of
stone-worship in France and England, reaching on into the
early middle ages,[#] which show this barbaric cultus as then
distinctly lingering in popular religion. Coupling this fact
with the accounts of the groups of standing-stones set up to
represent deities in South India, a corresponding explanation
has been suggested in Europe. Are the menhirs,
cromlechs, &c., idols, and circles and lines of idols, worshipped
by remotely ancient dwellers in the land as representatives
or embodiments of their gods? The question at
least deserves consideration, although the ideas with which
// File: 175.png
.pn +1
stone-worship is carried on by different races are multifarious,
and the analogy may be misleading. It is remarkable
to what late times full and genuine stone-worship has
survived in Europe. In certain mountain districts of
Norway, up to the end of the last century, the peasants
used to preserve round stones, washed them every Thursday
evening (which seems to show some connection with Thor),
smeared them with butter before the fire, laid them in the
seat of honour on fresh straw, and at certain times of the
year steeped them in ale, that they might bring luck and
comfort to the house.[#] In an account dating from 1851,
the islanders of Inniskea, off Mayo, are declared to have a
stone carefully wrapped in flannel, which is brought out
and worshipped at certain periods, and when a storm arises
it is supplicated to send a wreck on the coast.[#] No savage
ever showed more clearly by his treatment of a fetish that
he considered it a personal being, than did these Norwegians
and Irishmen. The ethnographic argument from
the existence of stock-and-stone worship among so many
nations of comparatively high culture seems to me of great
weight as bearing on religious development among mankind.
To imagine that peoples skilled in carving wood and stone,
and using these arts habitually in making idols, should
have gone out of their way to invent a practice of worshipping
logs and pebbles, is not a likely theory. But on the
other hand, when it is considered how such a rude object
serves to uncultured men as a divine image or receptacle,
there is nothing strange in its being a relic of early barbarism
holding its place against more artistic models
through ages of advancing civilization, by virtue of the
traditional sanctity which belongs to survival from remote
antiquity.
// File: 176.png
.pn +1

By a scarcely perceptible transition, we pass to Idolatry.
A few chips or scratches or daubs of paint suffice to convert
the rude post or stone into an idol. Difficulties which complicate
the study of stock-and-stone worship disappear in
the worship of even the rudest of unequivocal images, which
can no longer be mere altars, and if symbols must at least
be symbols of a personal being. Idolatry occupies a remarkable
district in the history of religion. It hardly
belongs to the lowest savagery, which simply seems not to
have attained to it, and it hardly belongs to the highest
civilization, which has discarded it. Its place is intermediate,
ranging from the higher savagery where it first
clearly appears, to the middle civilization where it reaches
its extreme development, and thenceforward its continuance
is in dwindling survival and sometimes expanding revival.
The position thus outlined is, however, very difficult to map
exactly. Idolatry does not seem to come in uniformly among
the higher savages; it belongs, for instance, fully to the
Society Islanders, but not to the Tongans and Fijians.
Among higher nations, its presence or absence does not
necessarily agree with particular national affinities or levels
of culture—compare the idol-worshipping Hindu with his
ethnic kinsman the idol-hating Parsi, or the idolatrous
Phœnician with his ethnic kinsman the Israelite, among
whose people the incidental relapse into the proscribed
image-worship was a memory of disgrace. Moreover, its
tendency to revive is ethnographically embarrassing. The
ancient Vedic religion seems not to recognize idolatry, yet
the modern Brahmans, professed followers of Vedic doctrine,
are among the greatest idolators of the world. Early
Christianity by no means abrogated the Jewish law against
image-worship, yet image-worship became and still remains
widely spread and deeply rooted in Christendom.

Of Idolatry, so far as its nature is symbolic or representative,
I have given some account elsewhere.[#] The old and
// File: 177.png
.pn +1
greatest difficulty in investigating the general subject is
this, that an image may be, even to two votaries kneeling
side by side before it, two utterly different things; to the
one it may be only a symbol, a portrait, a memento; while
to the other it is an intelligent and active being, by virtue
of a life or spirit dwelling in it or acting through it. In
both cases Image-worship is connected with the belief in
spiritual beings, and is in fact a subordinate development
of animism. But it is only so far as the image approximates
to the nature of a material body provided for a spirit,
that Idolatry comes properly into connexion with Fetishism.
It is from this point of view that it is proposed to examine
here its purpose and its place in history. An idol, so far as
it belongs to the theory of spirit-embodiment, must combine
the characters of portrait and fetish. Bearing this in mind,
and noticing how far the idol is looked on as in some way
itself an energetic object, or as the very receptacle enshrining
a spiritual god, let us proceed to judge how far, along
the course of civilization, the idea of the image itself exerting
power or being personally animate has prevailed in the
mind of the idolater.

As to the actual origin of idolatry, it need not be
supposed that the earliest idols made by man seemed to
their maker living or even active things. It is quite likely
that the primary intention of the image was simply to
serve as a sign or representative of some soul or deity, and
certainly this original character is more or less maintained
in the world through the long history of image-worship.
At a stage succeeding this original condition, it may be
argued, the tendency to identify the symbol and the
symbolized, a tendency so strong among children and the
ignorant everywhere, led to the idol being treated as a
living powerful being, and thence even to explicit doctrines
as to the manner of its energy or animation. It is, then,
in this secondary stage, where the once merely representative
image is passing into the active image-fetish,
that we are particularly concerned to understand it.
// File: 178.png
.pn +1
Here it is reasonable to judge the idolater by his distinct
actions and beliefs. A line of illustrative examples will
carry the personality of the idol through grade after
grade of civilization. Among the lower races, such
thoughts are displayed by the Kurile islander throwing
his idol into the sea to calm the storm; by the negro who
feeds ancestral images and brings them a share of his
trade profits, but will beat an idol or fling it into the fire if
it cannot give him luck or preserve him from sickness; by
famous idols of Madagascar, of which one goes about of
himself or guides his bearers, and another answers when
spoken to—at least, they did this till they were ignominiously
found out a few years ago. Among Tatar peoples of North
Asia and Europe, conceptions of this class are illustrated
by the Ostyak, who clothes his puppet and feeds it with
broth, but if it brings him no sport will try the effect of a
good thrashing on it, after which he will clothe and feed it
again; by the Lapps, who fancied their uncouth images
could go about at will; or the Esths, who wondered that
their idols did not bleed when Dieterich the Christian priest
hewed them down. Among high Asiatic nations, what
could be more anthropomorphic than the rites of modern
Hinduism, the dances of the nautch-girls before the idols,
the taking out of Jagannath in procession to pay visits, the
spinning of tops before Krishna to amuse him? Buddhism
is a religion in its principles little favourable to idolatry.
Yet, from setting up portrait-statues of Gautama and other
saints, there developed itself the full worship of images, and
even of images with hidden joints and cavities, which moved
and spoke as in our own middle ages. In China, we read
stories of worshippers abusing some idol that has failed in
its duty. ‘How now,’ they say, ‘you dog of a spirit; we
have given you an abode in a splendid temple, we gild you
and feed you and fumigate you with incense, and yet you
are so ungrateful that you won’t listen to our prayers!’ So
they drag him in the dirt, and then, if they get what they
want, it is but to clean him and set him up again, with
// File: 179.png
.pn +1
apologies and promises of a new coat of gilding. There is
what appears a genuine story of a Chinaman who had paid
an idol priest to cure his daughter, but she died; whereupon
the swindled worshipper brought an action at law against
the god, who for his fraud was banished from the province.
The classic instances, again, are perfect—the dressing and
anointing of statues, feeding them with delicacies and diverting
them with raree-shows, summoning them as witnesses;
the story of the Arkadian youths coming back from a bad
day’s hunting and revenging themselves by scourging and
pricking Pan’s statue, and the companion tale of the image
which fell upon the man who ill-treated it; the Tyrians
chaining the statue of the Sun-god that he might not
abandon their city; Augustus chastising in effigy the ill-behaved
Neptune; Apollo’s statue that moved when it
would give an oracle; and the rest of the images which
brandished weapons, or wept, or sweated, to prove their
supernatural powers. Such ideas continued to hold their
place in Christendom, as was natural, considering how
directly the holy image or picture took the place of the
household god or the mightier idol of the temple. The
Russian boor covering up the saint’s picture that it may
not see him do wrong; the Mingrelian borrowing a successful
neighbour’s saint when his own crop fails, or when
about to perjure himself choosing for the witness of his
deceitful oath a saint of mild countenance and merciful
repute; the peasant of Southern Europe, alternately coaxing
and trampling on his special saint-fetish, and ducking
the Virgin or <abbr=Saint>St.</abbr> Peter for rain; the winking and weeping
images that are worked, even at this day, to the greater
glory of God, or rather to the greater shame of Man—these
are but the extreme instances of the worshipper’s
endowment of the sacred image with a life and personality
modelled on his own.[#]
// File: 180.png
.pn +1

The appearance of idolatry at a grade above the lowest
of known human culture, and its development in extent
and elaborateness under higher conditions of civilization,
are well displayed among the native races of America.
‘Conspicuous by its absence’ among many of the lower
tribes, image-worship comes plainly into view toward the
upper levels of savagery, as where, for instance, Brazilian
native tribes set up in their huts, or in the recesses of
the forest, their pygmy heaven-descended figures of wax
or wood;[#] or where the Mandans, howling and whining,
made their prayers before puppets of grass and skins; or
where the spiritual beings of the Algonquins (manitu) or
the Hurons (oki) were represented by, and in language
identified with, the carved wooden heads or more complete
images to which worship and sacrifice were offered. Among
the Virginians and other of the more cultured Southern
tribes, these idols even had temples to dwell in.[#] The
discoverers of the New World found idolatry an accepted
institution among the islanders of the West Indies.
These strong animists are recorded to have carved their
little images in the shapes in which they believed the
spirits themselves to have appeared to them; and some
human figures bore the names of ancestors in memory of
them. The images of such ‘cemi’ or spirits, some animal,
but most of human type, were found by thousands; and
it is even declared that an island near Hayti had a
population of idol-makers, who especially made images of
nocturnal spectres. The spirit could be conveyed with
the image, both were called ‘cemi,’ and in the local accounts
of sacrifices, oracles, and miracles, the deity and
the idol are mixed together in a way which at least shows
the extreme closeness of their connexion in the native
// File: 181.png
.pn +1
mind.[#] If we pass to the far higher culture of Peru, we
find idols in full reverence, some of them complete figures,
but the great deities of Sun and Moon figured by discs with
human countenances, like those which to this day represent
them in symbol among ourselves. As for the conquered
neighbouring tribes brought under the dominion of the
Incas, their idols were carried, half trophies and half hostages,
to Cuzco, to rank among the inferior deities of the
Peruvian Pantheon.[#] In Mexico, idolatry had attained to its
full barbaric development. As in the Aztec mind the world
swarmed with spiritual deities, so their material representatives,
the idols, stood in the houses at the corners of the
streets, on every hill and rock, to receive from passers-by some
little offering—a nosegay, a whiff of incense, a drop or two of
blood; while in the temples more huge and elaborate images
enjoyed the dances and processions in their honour, were
fed by the bloody sacrifice of men and beasts, and received
the tribute and reverence paid to the great national gods.[#]
Up to a certain point, such evidence bears upon the present
question. We learn that the native races of the New World
had idols, that those idols in some sort represented ancestral
souls and other deities, and for them received adoration
and sacrifice. But whether the native ideas of the
connexion of spirit and image were obscure, or whether the
foreign observers did not get at these ideas, or partly for
both reasons, there is a general want of express statement
how far the idols of America remained mere symbols or
portraits, or how far they had come to be considered the
animated bodies of the gods.

It is not always thus, however. In the island regions of
// File: 182.png
.pn +1
the Southern Hemisphere, while image-worship scarcely
appears among the Andaman islanders, Tasmanians, or
Australians, and is absent or rare in various Papuan and
Polynesian districts, it prevails among the majority of the
island tribes who have attained to middle and high savage
levels. In Polynesian islands, where the meaning of the
native idolatry has been carefully examined, it is found to
rest on the most absolute theory of spirit-embodiment.
Thus, New-Zealanders set up memorial idols of deceased
persons near the burial-place, talking affectionately to them
as if still alive, and casting garments to them when they
passed by, also they preserve in their houses small carved
wooden images, each dedicated to the spirit of an ancestor.
It is distinctly held that such an atua or ancestral deity
enters into the substance of an image in order to hold converse
with the living. A priest can by repeating charms
cause the spirit to enter into the idol, which he will even jerk
by a string round its neck to arrest its attention; it is the
same atua or spirit which will at times enter not the image
but the priest himself, throw him into convulsions, and deliver
oracles through him; while it is quite understood that
the images themselves are not objects of worship, nor do
they possess in themselves any virtue, but derive their
sacredness from being the temporary abodes of spirits.[#]
In the Society Islands, it was noticed in Captain Cook’s exploration
that the carved wooden images at burial-places
were not considered mere memorials, but abodes into which
the souls of the departed retired. In Mr. Ellis’s account
of the Polynesian idolatry, relating as it seems especially to
this group, the sacred objects might be either mere stocks
and stones, or carved wooden images, from six or eight feet
long down to as many inches. Some of these were to represent
‘tii,’ divine manes or spirits of the dead, while
others were to represent ‘tu,’ or deities of higher rank
and power. At certain seasons, or in answer to the prayers
of the priests, these spiritual beings entered into the idols,
// File: 183.png
.pn +1
which then became very powerful, but when the spirit departed,
the idol remained only a sacred object. A god
often came to and passed from an image in the body of a
bird, and spiritual influence could be transmitted from an
idol by imparting it by contact to certain valued kinds of
feathers, which could be carried away in this ‘inhabited’
state, and thus exert power elsewhere, and transfer it to
new idols. Here then we have the similarity of souls to
other spirits shown by the similar way in which both become
embodied in images, just as these same people consider
both to enter into human bodies. And we have the
pure fetish, which here is a feather or a log or stone, brought
together with the more elaborate carved idol, all under one
common principle of spirit-embodiment.[#] In Borneo, notwithstanding
the Moslem prohibition of idolatry, not only
do images remain in use, but the doctrine of spirit-embodiment
is distinctly applied to them. Among the tribes of
Western Sarawak the priestesses have made for them rude
figures of birds, which none but they may touch. These
are supposed to become inhabited by spirits, and at the
great harvest feasts are hung up in bunches of ten or twenty
in the long common room, carefully veiled with coloured
handkerchiefs. Again, among some Dayak tribes, they will
make rude figures of a naked man and woman, and place
these opposite to one another on the path to the farms. On
their heads are head-dresses of bark, by their sides is the
betel-nut basket, and in their hands a short wooden spear.
These figures are said to be inhabited each by a spirit who
prevents inimical influences from passing on to the farms,
and likewise from the farms to the village, and evil betide
the profane wretch who lifts his hand against them—violent
fever and sickness would be sure to follow.[#]

West Africa naturally applies its familiar fetish-doctrine
// File: 184.png
.pn +1
of spirit-embodiment to images or idols. How an image
may be considered a receptacle for a spirit, is well shown
here by the straw and rag figures of men and beasts made
in Calabar at the great triennial purification, for the expelled
spirits to take refuge in, whereupon they are got rid
of over the border.[#] As to positive idols, nothing could
be more explicit than the Gold-Coast account of certain
wooden figures called ‘amagai,’ which are specially
treated by a ‘wong-man’ or priest, and have a ‘wong’
or deity in connexion with them; so close is the connexion
conceived between spirit and image, that the idol is itself
called ‘wong.’[#] So in the Ewe district, the same ‘edro’
or deity who inspires the priest is also present in the idol,
and ‘edro’ signifies both god and idol.[#] Waitz sums up
the principles of West African idolatry in a distinct theory
of embodiment, as follows: ‘The god himself is invisible,
but the devotional feeling and especially the lively fancy of
the negro demands a visible object to which worship may be
directed. He wishes really and sensibly to behold the god,
and seeks to shape in wood or clay the conception he has
formed of him. Now if the priest, whom the god himself
at times inspires and takes possession of, consecrates this
figure to him, the idea has only to follow that the god may
in consequence be pleased to take up his abode in the
figure, to which he may be specially invited by the consecration,
and thus image-worship is seen to be comprehensible
enough. Denham found that even to take a man’s
portrait was dangerous and caused mistrust, from the fear
that a part of the living man’s soul might be conveyed by
magic into the artificial figure. The idols are not, as Bosman
thinks, deputies of the gods, but merely objects in
which the god loves to place himself, and which at the same
time display him in sensible presence to his adorers. The
// File: 185.png
.pn +1
god is also by no means bound fast to his dwelling in the
image, he goes out and in, or rather is present in it sometimes
with more and sometimes with less intensity.’[#]

Castrén’s wide and careful researches among the rude
Turanian tribes of North Asia led him to form a similar
conception of the origin and nature of their idolatry. The
idols of these people are uncouth objects, often mere stones
or logs with some sort of human countenance, or sometimes
more finished images, even of metal; some are large, some
mere dolls; they belong to individuals, or families, or
tribes; they may be kept in the yurts for private use, or
set up in sacred groves or on the steppes or near the hunting
and fishing places they preside over, or they may even
have special temple-houses; some open-air gods are left
naked, not to spoil good clothes, but others under cover are
decked out with all an Ostyak’s or Samoyed’s wealth of
scarlet cloths and costly furs, necklaces and trinkets; and
lastly, to the idols are made rich offerings of food, clothes,
furs, kettles, pipes, and the rest of the inventory of Siberian
nomade riches. Now these idols are not to be taken as
mere symbols or portraits of deities, but the worshippers
mostly imagine that the deity dwells in the image or, so to
speak, is embodied in it, whereby the idol becomes a real
god capable of giving health and prosperity to man. On
the one hand, the deity becomes serviceable to the worshipper
by being thus contained and kept for his use, and
on the other hand, the god profits by receiving richer offerings,
failing which it would depart from its receptacle. We
even hear of numerous spirits being contained in one image,
and flying off at the death of the shaman who owned it. In
Buddhist Tibet, as in West Africa, the practice of conjuring
into puppets the demons which molest men is a recognized
rite; while in Siam the making of clay puppets to be exposed
on trees or by the roadside, or set adrift with food-offerings
// File: 186.png
.pn +1
in baskets, is a recognized manner of expelling
disease-spirits.[#] In the image-worship of modern India,
there crop up traces of the embodiment-theory. It is possible
for the intelligent Hindu to attach as little real personality
to a divine image, as to the man of straw which he
makes in order to celebrate the funeral rites of a relative
whose body cannot be recovered. He can even protest
against being treated as an idolater at all, declaring the
images of his gods to be but symbols, bringing to his mind
thoughts of the real deities, as a portrait reminds one of a
friend no longer to be seen in the body. Yet in the popular
religion of his country, what could be more in conformity
with the fetish-theory than the practice of making temporary
hollow clay idols by tens of thousands, which receive
no veneration for themselves, and only become objects of
worship when the officiating brahman has invited the deity
to dwell in the image, performing the ceremony of the
‘adhivâsa’ or inhabitation, after which he puts in the eyes
and the ‘prâna,’ i.e., breath, life, or soul.[#]

Nowhere, perhaps, in the wide history of religion, can
we find definitions more full and absolute of the theory of
deities actually animating their images, than in those passages
from early Christian writers which describe the nature
and operation of the heathen idols. Arnobius introduces
the heathen as declaring that it is not the bronze or gold and
silver material they consider to be gods, but they worship
in them those beings which sacred dedication introduces,
and causes to inhabit the artificial images.[#] Augustine
cites as follows the opinions attributed to Hermes Trismegistus.
This Egyptian, he tells us, considers some gods as
made by the highest Deity, and some by men; ‘he asserts
the visible and tangible images to be as it were bodies of
// File: 187.png
.pn +1
gods, for there are within them certain invited spirits, of
some avail for doing harm or for fulfilling certain desires
of those who pay them divine honours and rites of worship.
By a certain art to connect these invisible spirits with visible
objects of corporeal matter, that such may be as it were
animated bodies, effigies dedicate and subservient to the
spirits—this is what he calls making gods, and men have
received this great and wondrous power.’ And further,
this Trismegistus is made to speak of ‘statues animated
with sense and full of spirit, doing so great things; statues
prescient of the future, and predicting it by lots, by priests,
by dreams, and by many other ways.’[#] This idea, as accepted
by the early Christians themselves, with the qualification
that the spiritual beings inhabiting the idols were not
beneficent deities but devils, is explicitly stated by Minucius
Felix, in a passage in the ‘Octavius,’ which gives an instructive
account of the animistic philosophy of Christianity
towards the beginning of the third century: ‘Thus these
impure spirits or demons, as shown by the magi, by the
philosophers, and by Plato, are concealed by consecration
in statues and images, and by their afflatus obtain the
authority as of a present deity when at times they inspire
priests, inhabit temples, occasionally animate the filaments
of the entrails, govern the flight of birds, guide the falling
of lots, give oracles enveloped in many falsehoods ...
also secretly creeping into (men’s) bodies as thin spirits,
they feign diseases, terrify minds, distort limbs, in order to
compel men to their worship; that fattening on the steam
of altars or their offered victims from the flocks, they may
seem to have cured the ailments which they had constrained.
And these are the madmen whom ye see rush forth into
// File: 188.png
.pn +1
public places; and the very priests without the temple thus
go mad, thus rave, thus whirl about.... All these
things most of you know, how the very demons confess of
themselves, so often as they are expelled by us from the
patients’ bodies with torments of word and fires of prayer.
Saturn himself, and Serapis, and Jupiter, and whatsoever
demons ye worship, overcome by pain declare what they
are; nor surely do they lie concerning their iniquity, above
all when several of you are present. Believe these witnesses,
confessing the truth of themselves, that they are
demons. For adjured by the true and only God, they
shudder reluctant in the wretched bodies; and either they
issue forth at once, or vanish gradually, according as the
faith of the patient aids, or the grace of the curer
favours.’[#]

The strangeness with which such words now fall upon
our ears is full of significance. It is one symptom of that
vast quiet change which has come over animistic philosophy
in the modern educated world. Whole orders of spiritual
beings, worshipped in polytheistic religion, and degraded
in early Christendom to real but evil demons, have since
passed from objective to subjective existence, have faded
from the Spiritual into the Ideal. By the operation of
similar intellectual changes, the general theory of spirit-embodiment,
having fulfilled the great work it had for ages
to do in religion and philosophy, has now dwindled within
the limits of the educated world to near its vanishing-point.
The doctrines of Disease-possession and Oracle-possession,
once integral parts of the higher philosophy, and still maintaining
a vigorous existence in the lower culture, seem to
be dying out within the influence of the higher into dogmatic
survival, conscious metaphor, and popular superstition.
The doctrine of spirit-embodiment in objects,
Fetishism, now scarcely appears outside barbaric regions
// File: 189.png
.pn +1
save in the peasant folklore which keeps it up amongst us
with so many other remnants of barbaric thought. And
the like theory of spiritual influence as applied to Idolatry,
though still to be studied among savages and barbarians,
and on record in past ages of the civilized world, has perished
so utterly amongst ourselves, that few but students
are aware of its ever having existed.

To bring home to our minds the vastness of the intellectual
tract which separates modern from savage philosophy,
and to enable us to look back along the path where
step by step the mind’s journey was made, it will serve us
to glance over the landmarks which language to this day
keeps standing. Our modern languages reach back through
the middle ages to classic and barbaric times, where in this
matter the transition from the crudest primæval animism is
quite manifest. We keep in daily use, and turn to modern
meaning, old words and idioms which carry us home to the
philosophy of ancient days. We talk of ‘genius’ still,
but with thought how changed. The genius of Augustus
was a tutelary demon, to be sworn by and to receive offerings
on an altar as a deity. In modern English, Shakspere,
Newton, or Wellington, is said to be led and prompted by
his genius, but that genius is a shrivelled philosophic metaphor.
So the word ‘spirit’ and its kindred terms keep
up with wondrous pertinacity the traces which connect the
thought of the savage with its hereditary successor, the
thought of the philosopher. Barbaric philosophy retains
as real what civilized language has reduced to simile. The
Siamese is made drunk with the demon of the arrack that
possesses the drinker, while we with so different sense still
extract the ‘spirit of wine.’[#] Look at the saying ascribed
to Pythagoras, and mentioned by Porphyry. ‘The sound
indeed which is given by striking brass, is the voice of a
certain demon contained in that brass.’ These might have
been the representative words of some savage animistic
// File: 190.png
.pn +1
philosopher; but with the changed meaning brought by centuries
of philosophizing, Oken hit upon a definition almost
identical in form, that ‘What sounds, announces its spirit’
(<lang=de>‘Was tönt, gibt seinen Geist kund’</lang>).[#] What the savage
would have meant, or Porphyry after him did mean, was that
the brass was actually animated by a spirit of the brass apart
from its matter, but when a modern philosopher takes up
the old phrase, all he means is the qualities of the brass.
As in other animistic phrases of thought and feeling such
as ‘animal spirits,’ or being in ‘good and bad spirits,’ the
term only recalls with an effort the long-past philosophy
which it once expressed. The modern theory of the
mind considers it capable of performing even exalted and
unusual functions without the intervention of prompting or
exciting demons; yet the old recognition of such beings
crops up here and there in phrases which adapt animistic
ideas to commonplaces of human disposition, as when a
man is still said to be animated by a patriotic spirit, or
possessed by a spirit of disobedience. In old times the
<lang=grc>ἐγγαστρίμυθος</lang>, or <lang=la>‘ventriloquus’</lang> was really held to have a
spirit rumbling or talking from inside his body, as when
Eurykles the soothsayer was inspired by such a familiar;
or when a certain Patriarch mentioning a demon heard to
speak out of a man’s belly, remarks on the worthy place it
had chosen to dwell in. In the time of Hippokrates, the
giving of oracular responses by such ventriloquism was
practised by certain women as a profession. To this day
in China one may get an oracular response from a spirit
apparently talking out of a medium’s stomach, for a fee of
about twopence-halfpenny. How changed a philosophy it
marks, that among ourselves the word ‘ventriloquist’
should have sunk to its present meaning.[#] Nor is that
// File: 191.png
.pn +1
change less significant which, starting with the conception
of a man being really <lang=grc>ἔνθεος</lang>, possessed by a deity within
him, carries on a metamorphosed relic of this thorough
animistic thought, from <lang=grc>ἐνθουσιασμός</lang> to ‘enthusiasm.’
With all this, let it not be supposed that such change of
opinion in the educated world has come about through
wanton incredulity or decay of the religious temperament.
Its source is the alteration in natural science, assigning new
causes for the operations of nature and the events of life.
The theory of the immediate action of personal spirits has
here, as so widely elsewhere, given place to ideas of force
and law. No indwelling deity now regulates the life of the
burning sun, no guardian angels drive the stars across the
arching firmament, the divine Ganges is water flowing down
into the sea to evaporate into cloud and descend again in
rain. No deity simmers in the boiling pot, no presiding
spirits dwell in the volcano, no howling demon shrieks from
the mouth of the lunatic. There was a period of human
thought when the whole universe seemed actuated by
spiritual life. For our knowledge of our own history, it
is deeply interesting that there should remain rude races
yet living under the philosophy which we have so far passed
from, since Physics, Chemistry, Biology, have seized whole
provinces of the ancient Animism, setting force for life and
law for will.

.fn #
See Taylor, ‘New Zealand,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 134; <abbr rend=spell>J. G.</abbr> Müller, <lang=de>‘Amerikanische Urreligionen,’</lang>
<abbr=page>p.</abbr> 171.
.fn-
.fn #
Philo Jud. de Gigantibus, <abbr=four>iv.</abbr>
.fn-
.fn #
<lang=la>Rituale Romanum: De Exorcizandis Obsessis a Dæmonio.</lang>
.fn-
.fn #
Oldfield, ‘Abor. of Australia’ in ‘Tr. Eth. Soc.’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=three>iii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 236. See
Bonwick, ‘Tasmanians,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 181.
.fn-
.fn #
Taylor, ‘New Zealand,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 104.
.fn-
.fn #
Rochefort, ‘Iles Antilles,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 429.
.fn-
.fn #
Schoolcraft, ‘Indian Tribes,’ part <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 195; <abbr rend=spell>M.</abbr> Eastman, ‘Dahcotah,’
<abbr=page>p.</abbr> 72.
.fn-
.fn #
Burton, ‘Central <abbr=Africa>Afr.</abbr>’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 344; Schlegel, ‘Ewe-Sprache,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> <abbr='twenty-five'>xxv.</abbr>
.fn-
.fn #
Falkner, ‘Patagonia,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 116; but <abbr rend=spell>cf.</abbr> Musters, <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 180.
.fn-
.fn #
Castrén, ‘Finn. Myth.’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 122.
.fn-
.fn #
Doolittle, ‘Chinese,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 206.
.fn-
.fn #
Bastian, ‘Oestl. Asien,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 129, 416; <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=three>iii.</abbr> <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 29, 257, 278;
‘Psychologie,’ <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 77, 99; Cross, ‘Karens,’ <abbr rend=spell>l. c.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 316; Elliot in ‘Journ.
Eth. Soc.’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> i. <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 115; Buchanan, ‘Mysore, &c.,’ in Pinkerton, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=eight>viii.</abbr>
<abbr=page>p.</abbr> 677.
.fn-
.fn #
Shortt, ‘Tribes of India,’ in ‘Tr. Eth. Soc.’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=seven>vii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 192; Tinling,
‘Tour round India,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 19.
.fn-
.fn #
Bastian, ‘Psychologie,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 101.
.fn-
.fn #
Sir <abbr rend=spell>J.</abbr> Shore in ‘Asiatic Res.’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=four>iv.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 331.
.fn-
.fn #
For some collections of details of manes-worship, see Meiners, <lang=de>‘Geschichte
der Religionen,’</lang> <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> book 3; Bastian, ‘Mensch,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 402-11;
‘Psychologie,’ <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 72-114.
.fn-
.fn #
<abbr rend=spell>J. G.</abbr> Müller, <lang=de>‘Amer. Urrel.’</lang> <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 73, 173, 209, 261; Schoolcraft, ‘Indian
Tribes,’ part <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 39, part <abbr=three>iii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 237; Waitz, ‘Anthropologie,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=three>iii.</abbr> <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 191,
204.
.fn-
.fn #
Backhouse, ‘Australia,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 105; Bonwick, ‘Tasmanians,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 182.
.fn-
.fn #
Turner, ‘Polynesia,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 88.
.fn-
.fn #
Mariner, ‘Tonga Is.’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 104; <abbr rend=spell>S. S.</abbr> Farmer, <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 126; Shortland,
‘Trads. of <abbr rend=spell>N. Z.</abbr>’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 81; Taylor, ‘New Zealand,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 108.
.fn-
.fn #
<abbr rend=spell>J. R.</abbr> Forster, ‘Observations,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 604; Marsden, ‘Sumatra,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 258;
‘Journ. Ind. Archip.’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 234.
.fn-
.fn #
Ellis, ‘Madagascar,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 123, 423. As to the connexion of the
Vazimbas with the Mazimba of East Africa, see Waitz, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 360, 426.
.fn-
.fn #
Callaway, ‘Religious System of Amazulu,’ part <abbr=two>ii.</abbr>; see also Arbousset
and Daumas, <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 469; Casalis, ‘Basutos,’ <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 248-54; Waitz, ‘Anthropologie,’
<abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 411, 419; Magyar, ‘Reisen in Süd-Afrika,’ <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 21, 335
(Congo); Cavazzi, ‘Congo,’ <abbr=liber>lib.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr>
.fn-
.fn #
<abbr rend=spell>J. L.</abbr> Wilson, ‘<abbr=West>W.</abbr> <abbr=Africa>Afr.</abbr>’ <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 217, 388-93. See Waitz, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 181,
194.
.fn-
.fn #
Bailey in ‘Tr. Eth. Soc.’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 301. Compare Taylor, ‘New
Zealand,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 153.
.fn-
.fn #
Buchanan, ‘Mysore,’ in Pinkerton, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=eight>viii.</abbr> <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 674-7. See Macpherson,
‘India,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 95 (Khonds); Hunter, ‘Rural Bengal,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 183 (Santals).
.fn-
.fn #
Castrén, ‘Finn. Myth.’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 122; Bastian, ‘Psychologie,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 90. See Palgrave,
‘Arabia,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 373.
.fn-
.fn #
Siebold, ‘Nippon,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 3, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 51; Kempfer, ‘Japan,’ in
Pinkerton, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=seven>vii.</abbr> <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 672, 680, 723, 755.
.fn-
.fn #
Bastian, ‘Oestl. Asien,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=three>iii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 250.
.fn-
.fn #
Plath, <lang=de>‘Religion der alten Chinesen,’</lang> part <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 65, part <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 89; Doolittle,
‘Chinese,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> <abbr=six>vi.</abbr> <abbr=eight>viii.</abbr>; <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 373; ‘Journ. Ind. Archip.’
New <abbr=series>Ser.</abbr> <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 363; Legge, ‘Confucius,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 92.
.fn-
.fn #
Manu, book <abbr=three>iii.</abbr>
.fn-
.fn #
Details in Pauly, ‘Real-Encyclop.’ <abbr rend=spell>s.v.</abbr> ‘inferi’; Smith’s ‘<abbr=Dictionary>Dic.</abbr> of <abbr=Greek>Gr.</abbr>
and <abbr=Roman>Rom.</abbr> Biog. and Myth.’; Meiners, Hartung, &c.
.fn-
.fn #
Middleton, ‘Letter from Rome’; Murray’s ‘Handbook of Rome.’
.fn-
.fn #
<abbr rend=spell>L. F.</abbr> Alfred Maury, ‘Magie, &c.,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 249; <lang=la>‘Acta Sanctorum,’</lang> 27 Sep.;
Gregor. Turon. De Gloria Martyr, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 98.
.fn-
.fn #
<abbr rend=spell>J. R.</abbr> Beste, ‘Nowadays at Home and Abroad,’ London, 1870, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr>
<abbr=page>p.</abbr> 44; ‘A New Miracle at Rome; being an Account of a Miraculous Cure,
&c., &c.,’ London (Washbourne), 1870.
.fn-
.fn #
Oldfield in ‘Tr. Eth. Soc.’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=three>iii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 235; see Grey, ‘Australia,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr>
<abbr=page>p.</abbr> 337. Bonwick, ‘Tasmanians,’ <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 183, 195.
.fn-
.fn #
‘Journ. Ind. Archip.’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 307.
.fn-
.fn #
Bastian, ‘Psychologie,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 204; ‘Mensch,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 73, see <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 125
(Battas); Macpherson, ‘India,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 370. See also Mason, ‘Karens,’ <abbr rend=spell>l. c.</abbr>
<abbr=page>p.</abbr> 201.
.fn-
.fn #
‘Journ. Ind. Archip.’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=three>iii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 110, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=four>iv.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 194; <abbr=Saint>St.</abbr> John, ‘Far
East,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 71, 87; Beeckman in Pinkerton, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=nine>ix.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 133; Meiners,
<abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 278. See also Doolittle, ‘Chinese,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 159.
.fn-
.fn #
Shortland, ‘Trads. of <abbr rend=spell>N. Z.</abbr>’ <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 97, 114, 125; Taylor, ‘New Zealand,’
<abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 48, 137.
.fn-
.fn #
Turner, ‘Polynesia,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 236.
.fn-
.fn #
Ellis, ‘Polyn. Res.’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 363, 395, &c., <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 193, 274;
Cook, ‘<abbr=third>3rd</abbr> <abbr=Voyage>Voy.</abbr>’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=three>iii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 131. Details of the superhuman character
ascribed to weak or deranged persons among other races, in Schoolcraft,
part <abbr=four>iv.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 49; Martius, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 633; Meiners, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 323; Waitz, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr>
<abbr=page>p.</abbr> 181.
.fn-
.fn #
Schoolcraft, ‘Indian Tribes,’ part <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 250, part <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 179, 199,
part <abbr=three>iii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 498; <abbr rend=spell>M.</abbr> Eastman, ‘Dahcotah,’ <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> xxiii. 34, 41, 72. See also
Gregg, ‘Commerce of Prairies,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 297 (Comanches); Morgan,
‘Iroquois,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 163; Sproat, <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 174 (Ahts); Egede, ‘Greenland,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 186;
Cranz, <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 269.
.fn-
.fn #
Roman Pane, <abbr=nineteen>xix.</abbr> in ‘Life of Colon’; in Pinkerton, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=twelve>xii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 87.
.fn-
.fn #
D’Orbigny, <lang=fr>‘L’Homme Américain,’</lang> <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 73, 168; Musters,
‘Patagonians,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 180. See also <abbr rend=spell>J. G.</abbr> Müller, <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 207, 231 (Caribs); Spix
and Martius, ‘Brasilien,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 70; Martius, ‘Ethnog. Amer.’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 646
(Marcusis).
.fn-
.fn #
Casalis, ‘Basutos,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 247; Callaway, ‘Rel. of Amazulu,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 147, &c.;
Magyar, ‘Süd-Afrika,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 21, &c.; Burton, ‘Central <abbr=Africa>Afr.</abbr>’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 320,
354; Steere in ‘Journ. Anthrop. Inst.’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 1871, <abbr=page>p.</abbr> <abbr='a hundred and forty-seven'>cxlvii.</abbr>
.fn-
.fn #
Steinhauser, <lang=de>‘Religion des Negers,’</lang> in <lang=de>‘Magaz. der Evang. Missions und
Bibel-Gesellschaften,’</lang> Basel, 1856, <abbr=Number>No.</abbr> 2, <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 139.
.fn-
.fn #
<abbr rend=spell>J. L.</abbr> Wilson, ‘<abbr=West>W.</abbr> <abbr=Africa>Afr.</abbr>’ <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 217, 388.
.fn-
.fn #
Hodgson, ‘Abor. of India,’ <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 163, 170.
.fn-
.fn #
Backhouse, ‘Australia,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 103.
.fn-
.fn #
Mason, ‘Burmah,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 107, &c. Cross, <abbr rend=spell>l.c.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 305.
.fn-
.fn #
Callaway, ‘Religion of Amazulu,’ <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 183, &c., 259, &c.
.fn-
.fn #
Falkner, ‘Patagonia,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 116. See also Rochefort, ‘Iles Antilles,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 418
(Caribs).
.fn-
.fn #
Georgi, ‘Reise im Russ. Reich,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 280; Meiners, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 488.
.fn-
.fn #
Falkner, <abbr rend=spell>l.c.</abbr>
.fn-
.fn #
Caldwell, ‘Dravidian Languages,’ App.; Latham, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 469.
.fn-
.fn #
Hodgson, ‘Abor. of India,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 172.
.fn-
.fn #
Steller, ‘Kamtschatka,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 278.
.fn-
.fn #
Bastian, ‘Oestl. Asien,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 328, see <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=three>iii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 201, ‘Psychologie,’
<abbr=page>p.</abbr> 139. See also Römer, ‘Guinea,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 59.
.fn-
.fn #
Ellis, ‘Polyn. Res.’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 352, 373; Moerenhout, ‘Voyage,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr>
<abbr=page>p.</abbr> 479; Mariner, ‘Tonga Islands,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 105; Williams, ‘Fiji,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 373.
.fn-
.fn #
Dos Santos, ‘Ethiopia,’ in Pinkerton, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=sixteen>xvi.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 686.
.fn-
.fn #
Römer, ‘Guinea,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 57. See also Steinhauser, <abbr rend=spell>l.c.</abbr> <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 132, 139; <abbr rend=spell>J. B.</abbr>
Schlegel, <lang=de>‘Ewe-Sprache,’</lang> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> <abbr=sixteen>xvi.</abbr>
.fn-
.fn #
Details from Tatar races in Castrén, ‘Finn. Myth.’ <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 164, 173, &c.;
Bastian, ‘Psychologie,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 90; from Abyssinia in Parkyns, ‘Life in <abbr rend=spell>A.</abbr>,’ <abbr=chapter>ch.</abbr>
<abbr='thirty-three'>xxxiii.</abbr>
.fn-
.fn #
Doolittle, ‘Chinese,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 143, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 110, 320.
.fn-
.fn #
Bastian, ‘Oestl. Asien,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 103, 152, 381, 418, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=three>iii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 247,
&c. See also Bowring, ‘Siam,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 139; ‘Journ. Ind. Archip.’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=four>iv.</abbr>
<abbr=page>p.</abbr> 507, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=six>vi.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 614; Turpin, in Pinkerton, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=nine>ix.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 761; Kempfer,
‘Japan,’ <i>ibid.</i> <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=seven>vii.</abbr> <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 701, 730, &c.
.fn-
.fn #
Ward, ‘Hindoos,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 155, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 183; Roberts, ‘Oriental
Illustrations of the Scriptures,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 529; Bastian, ‘Psychologie,’ <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 164,
184-7. Sanskrit <lang=sa>paiçâcha-graha</lang> = demon-seizure, possession. Ancient evidence
in Pictet, ‘Origines Indo-Europ.’ part <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=chapter>ch.</abbr> <abbr=five>v.</abbr>
.fn-
.fn #
Homer. <abbr=Odyssey>Odyss.</abbr> <abbr=five>v.</abbr> 396, <abbr=ten>x.</abbr> 64; Plat. Phædr. Tim. &c.; Pausan. <abbr=four>iv.</abbr>
27, 2; Xen. Mem. <abbr=one>I.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 9; Plutarch. Vit. Alex.; De Orac. Def.; Lucian.
Philopseudes; Petron. Arbiter, Sat.; &c., &c.
.fn-
.fn #
Joseph. Ant. Jud. <abbr=eight>viii.</abbr> 2, 5. Eisenmenger, <lang=de>‘Entdecktes Judenthum,’</lang>
part <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 454. See Maury, <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 290.
.fn-
.fn #
Matth. <abbr=nine>ix.</abbr> 32, <abbr=eleven>xi.</abbr> 18, <abbr=twelve>xii.</abbr> 22, <abbr=seventeen>xvii.</abbr> 15; Mark, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 23, <abbr=nine>ix.</abbr> 17; Luke, <abbr=four>iv.</abbr>
33, 39, <abbr=seven>vii.</abbr> 33, <abbr=eight>viii.</abbr> 27, <abbr=nine>ix.</abbr> 39, <abbr=thirteen>xiii.</abbr> 11; John, <abbr=ten>x.</abbr> 20; Acts, <abbr=sixteen>xvi.</abbr> 16, <abbr=nineteen>xix.</abbr>
13; &c.
.fn-
.fn #
For general evidence see Bingham, ‘Antiquities of Christian Church,’
book <abbr=three>iii.</abbr> <abbr=chapter>ch.</abbr> <abbr=four>iv.</abbr>; Calmet, <lang=fr>‘Dissertation sur les Esprits’;</lang> Maury, ‘Magie,’
&c.; Lecky, ‘<abbr=History>Hist.</abbr> of Rationalism.’ Among particular passages are Tertull.
Apolog. 23; De Spectaculis, 26; Chrysostom. Homil. <abbr='twenty-eight'>xxviii.</abbr> in Matth. <abbr=four>iv.</abbr>;
Cyril. Hierosol. Catech. <abbr=sixteen>xvi.</abbr> 16; Minuc. Fel. Octavius. <abbr='twenty-one'>xxi.</abbr>; Concil. Carthag.
<abbr=four>iv.</abbr>; &c., &c.
.fn-
.fn #
Details in Cockayne, ‘Leechdoms, &c., of Early England,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 365,
<abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 137, 355; Sprenger, ‘Malleus Maleficarum,’ part <abbr=two>ii.</abbr>; Calmet,
‘Dissertation,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=chapter>ch.</abbr> <abbr='twenty-four'>xxiv.</abbr>; Horst, ‘Zauber-Bibliothek’; Bastian,
‘Mensch,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 557, &c.; ‘Psychologie,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 115, &c.; Voltaire,
<lang=fr>‘Questions sur l’Encyclopédie,’</lang> <abbr=article>art.</abbr>, ‘Superstition’; ‘Encyclopædia Britannica,’
<abbr=fifth>5th</abbr> <abbr=edition>ed.</abbr> <abbr=article>art.</abbr> ‘Possession.’
.fn-
.fn #
See Maury, ‘Magie,’ &c., part <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=chapter>ch.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr>
.fn-
.fn #
<abbr rend=spell>A.</abbr> Constans, <lang=fr>‘Rel. sur une Epidémie d’Hystéro-Démonopathie, en 1861.’</lang>
<abbr=second>2nd</abbr> <abbr=edition>ed.</abbr> Paris, 1863. For descriptions of such outbreaks, among the North
American Indians, see Le Jeune in <lang=fr>‘Rel. des Jés. dans la Nouvelle France,’</lang>
1639; Brinton, <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 275; and in Guinea, see <abbr rend=spell>J. L.</abbr> Wilson, ‘Western Africa,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 217.
.fn-
.fn #
Gaume, <lang=fr>‘L’Eau Bénite au Dix-Neuvième Siècle,’</lang> <abbr=third>3rd</abbr> <abbr=edition>ed.</abbr> Paris, 1866, <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 353.
.fn-
.fn #
West, in ‘Spiritual Telegraph,’ cited by Bastian.
.fn-
.fn #
(<abbr rend=spell>C.</abbr> de Brosses.) <lang=fr>‘Du culte des dieux fétiches ou Parallèle de l’ancienne
Religion de l’Egypte avec la religion actuelle de Nigritie.’</lang> 1760. (De
Brosses supposed the word <i>fétiche</i> connected with <i>chose fée, fatum</i>.)
.fn-
.fn #
Grey, ‘Australia,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 337; Eyre, ‘Australia,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 362;
Oldfield in ‘Tr. Eth. Soc.’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=three>iii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 235, &c.; <abbr rend=spell>G. F.</abbr> Moore, ‘Vocab. of
<abbr rend=spell>S. W.</abbr> Austr.’ <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 18, 98, 103. See Bonwick, ‘Tasmanians,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 195.
.fn-
.fn #
Rochefort, ‘Iles Antilles,’ <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 419, 508; <abbr rend=spell>J. G.</abbr> Müller, <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 173, 207, 217.
.fn-
.fn #
Ellis, ‘Madagascar,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 221, 232, 422.
.fn-
.fn #
<abbr=Saint>St.</abbr> John, ‘Far East,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 211, see 72.
.fn-
.fn #
Callaway, ‘Religion of Amazulu,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 314.
.fn-
.fn #
Steinhauser, <abbr rend=spell>l.c.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 141. See also Steere, ‘East <abbr=Africa>Afr.</abbr> Tribes,’ in ‘Journ.
Anthrop. Soc.’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> <abbr='a hundred and forty eight'>cxlviii.</abbr>
.fn-
.fn #
Burton, ‘Central Africa,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 352. See ‘Sindh,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 177.
.fn-
.fn #
Bastian, ‘Oestl. Asien,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=three>iii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 275.
.fn-
.fn #
‘Early <abbr=History>Hist.</abbr> of Mankind,’ <abbr=chapter>ch.</abbr> <abbr=ten>x.</abbr> See Bastian, ‘Mensch,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 116, &c.
.fn-
.fn #
Plin. <abbr=thirty>xxx.</abbr> 14, 20. Cardan, ‘De Var. Rerum,’ <abbr=capitulum>cap.</abbr> <abbr='forty-three'>xliii.</abbr>
.fn-
.fn #
Ward, ‘Hindoos,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 134, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 247.
.fn-
.fn #
Doolittle, ‘Chinese,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 122.
.fn-
.fn #
Grimm, ‘<abbr rend=spell>D. M.</abbr>’ <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 1118-23; Wuttke, <lang=de>‘Volksaberglaube,’</lang> <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 155-70;
Brand, ‘Pop. Ant.’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 375, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=three>iii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 286; Halliwell, ‘Pop. Rhymes,’
<abbr=page>p.</abbr> 208; <abbr rend=spell>R.</abbr> Hunt, ‘Pop. Romances,’ <abbr=second>2nd</abbr> Series, <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 211; Hylten-Cavallius,
<lang=de>‘Wärend och Wirdarne,’</lang> <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 173. It is said, however, that rags
fastened on trees by Gypsies, which passers-by avoid with horror as having
diseases thus banned into them, are only signs left for the information of
fellow vagrants; Liebich, <lang=de>‘Die Zigeuner,’</lang> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 96.
.fn-
.fn #
Catlin, ‘<abbr rend=spell>N. A.</abbr> Indians,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 90.
.fn-
.fn #
<abbr rend=spell>J. L.</abbr> Wilson, ‘<abbr=West>W.</abbr> Africa,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 394.
.fn-
.fn #
Meiners, <lang=de>‘Gesch. der Rel.’</lang> <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 305; <abbr rend=spell>J. G.</abbr> Müller, <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 209.
.fn-
.fn #
Mason, Karens, <abbr rend=spell>l.c.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 231.
.fn-
.fn #
Meiners, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 721-3.
.fn-
.fn #
Rochefort, ‘Iles Antilles,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 418. See Martius, ‘Ethnog. Amer.’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr>
<abbr=page>p.</abbr> 485 (Yumanas swallow ashes of deceased with liquor, that he may live
again in them).
.fn-
.fn #
Hunter, ‘Rural Bengal,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 210. See Bastian, ‘Psychologie,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 73;
<abbr rend=spell>J. G.</abbr> Müller, ‘Amer. Urrel.’ <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 209, 262, 289, 401, 419.
.fn-
.fn #
Darwin, ‘Journal,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 458.
.fn-
.fn #
Bastian, ‘Mensch,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 320.
.fn-
.fn #
‘Report of Jubbulpore Ethnological Committee,’ Nagpore, 1868, part <abbr=one>i.</abbr>
<abbr=page>p.</abbr> 5.
.fn-
.fn #
Doolittle, ‘Chinese,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 151, 207, 214, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 401; see Plath,
<lang=de>‘Religion der alten Chinesen,’</lang> part <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 59, part <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 101.
.fn-
.fn #
Castrén, ‘Finn. Myth.’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 187; Dasent, ‘Norse Tales,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 69; Lane,
‘Thousand and One Nights,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=three>iii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 316; Grimm, ‘<abbr rend=spell>D. M.</abbr>’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 1033.
See also Bastian, ‘Psychologie,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 213. Eisenmenger, ‘Judenthum,’ part
<abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 39.
.fn-
.fn #
Brand, ‘Pop. Ant.’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=three>iii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 72.
.fn-
.fn #
Herrera, ‘Hist. de las Indias Occidentales,’ Dec. <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=nine>ix.</abbr> 3.
.fn-
.fn #
Lery, Brésil, <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 249; <abbr rend=spell>J. G.</abbr> Müller, <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 210, 262.
.fn-
.fn #
Schoolcraft, ‘Indian Tribes’; Waitz, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=three>iii.</abbr>; Catlin, ‘<abbr rend=spell>N. A.</abbr> Ind.’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr>
<abbr=page>p.</abbr> 36; Keating, ‘Narrative,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 421; <abbr rend=spell>J. G.</abbr> Müller, <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 74, &c. See
Cranz, ‘Grönland,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 274.
.fn-
.fn #
Castrén, ‘Finn. Myth.’ <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 162, 221, 230; Meiners, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 170.
.fn-
.fn #
Bell, in Pinkerton, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=seven>vii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 357.
.fn-
.fn #
<abbr rend=spell>H.</abbr> Rowley, ‘Universities’ Mission to Central Africa,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 217.
.fn-
.fn #
Waitz, ‘Anthropologie,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 174; Römer, ‘Guinea,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 56, &c.;
<abbr rend=spell>J. L.</abbr> Wilson, ‘West Africa,’ <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 135, 211-6, 275, 338; Burton, ‘Wit and
Wisdom from <abbr=West>W.</abbr> <abbr=Africa>Afr.</abbr>’ <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 174, 455; Steinhauser, <abbr rend=spell>l.c.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 134; Bosman,
‘Guinea,’ in Pinkerton, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=sixteen>xvi.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 397; Meiners, ‘Gesch. der Relig.’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr>
<abbr=page>p.</abbr> 173. See also Ellis, ‘Madagascar,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 396; Flacourt, ‘Madag.’
<abbr=page>p.</abbr> 191.
.fn-
.fn #
Brand, ‘Popular Antiquities,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=three>iii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 255, &c. Bastian, ‘Psychologie,’
<abbr=page>p.</abbr> 171. Wuttke, <lang=de>‘Deutsche Volksaberglaube,’</lang> <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 75-95, 225, &c. <abbr=Saint>St.</abbr> Clair
and Brophy, ‘Bulgaria,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 46.
.fn-
.fn #
Berkeley, ‘Concerning Motion,’ in ‘Works,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 86.
.fn-
.fn #
Schoolcraft, ‘Indian Tribes,’ part <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 196, part <abbr=three>iii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 229.
.fn-
.fn #
Herrera, ‘Indias Occidentales,’ dec. <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=three>iii.</abbr> 3.
.fn-
.fn #
De Laet, Novus Orbis, <abbr=fifteen>xv.</abbr> 2.
.fn-
.fn #
Garcilaso de la Vega, <lang=es>‘Commentarios Reales,’</lang> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 9; <abbr rend=spell>J. G.</abbr> Müller, <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 263,
311, 371, 387; Waitz, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=four>iv.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 454; see below, <abbr=page>p.</abbr> #175#.
.fn-
.fn #
Hahn, ‘Gramm. des Hereró,’ <abbr rend=spell>s.v.</abbr> ‘omu-makisina.’
.fn-
.fn #
Kaufmann, ‘Central-Afrika,’ (White Nile), <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 131.
.fn-
.fn #
Waitz, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 518, 523.
.fn-
.fn #
Zollinger in ‘Journ. Ind. Archip.’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 692.
.fn-
.fn #
Ellis, ‘Polyn. Res.’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 337. See also Ellis, ‘Madagascar,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr>
<abbr=page>p.</abbr> 399.
.fn-
.fn #
Turner, ‘Polynesia,’ <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 347, 526.
.fn-
.fn #
Williams, ‘Fiji,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 220; Seemann, ‘Viti,’ <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 66, 89.
.fn-
.fn #
Castrén, ‘Finn. Myth.’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 193, &c., 204, &c.; ‘Voyages au Nord,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr>
<abbr=eight>viii.</abbr> <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 103, 410; Klemm, ‘<abbr rend=spell>C. G.</abbr>’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=three>iii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 120. See also Steller,
‘Kamtschatka,’ <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 265, 276.
.fn-
.fn #
Hodgson, ‘Abor. of India,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 174. See also Macrae in ‘As. Res.’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr>
<abbr=seven>vii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 196; Dalton, ‘Kols,’ in ‘Tr. Eth. Soc.’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=six>vi.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 33.
.fn-
.fn #
Macpherson, ‘India,’ <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 103, 358.
.fn-
.fn #
Bastian, ‘Psychologie,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 177. See also Shortt, ‘Tribes of Neilgherries,’
in ‘Tr. Eth. Soc.’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=seven>vii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 281.
.fn-
.fn #
Elliot in ‘Journ. Eth. Soc.’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 1869, <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 115.
.fn-
.fn #
Buchanan, ‘Mysore,’ in Pinkerton, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=seven>vii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 739.
.fn-
.fn #
Elliot in ‘Journ. Eth. Soc.’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 96, 115, 125. Lubbock, ‘Origin
of Civilization,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 222. Forbes Leslie, ‘Early Races of Scotland,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr>
<abbr=page>p.</abbr> 462, &c. Prof. Liebrecht, in ‘Ztschr. für Ethnologie,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=five>v.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 100,
compares the field-protecting Priapos-hermes of ancient Italy, daubed with
minium.
.fn-
.fn #
Ward, ‘Hindoos,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 142, 182, &c., see 221. See also Latham, ‘Descr.
Eth.’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 239. (Siah-push, stone offered to the representative of deity.)
.fn-
.fn #
Grote, ‘<abbr=History>Hist.</abbr> of Greece,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=four>iv.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 132; Welcker, <lang=de>‘Griechische Götterlehre,’</lang>
<abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 220. Meiners, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 150, &c. Details <abbr=especially>esp.</abbr> in Pausanias;
Theophrast. Charact. <abbr=sixteen>xvi.</abbr>; Tacit. Hist. <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> 3; Arnobius, Adv. Gent.; Tertullianus;
Clemens Alexandr.
.fn-
.fn #
<abbr=Isaiah>Is.</abbr> <abbr='fifty-seven'>lvii.</abbr> 6. The first line, <lang=hbo>‘behhalkey-nahhal hhêlkech,’</lang> turns on the
pun on <lang=hbo>hhlk</lang> = smooth (stone), and also lot or portion; a double sense probably
connected with the use of smooth pebbles for casting lots.
.fn-
.fn #
Sprenger, ‘Mohammad,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 7, &c. Burton, ‘El Medinah,’ &c.,
<abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 157.
.fn-
.fn #
Euseb. Præp. Evang. <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 10. <abbr=Deuteronomy>Deut.</abbr> <abbr=twelve>xii.</abbr> 3; Micah <abbr=five>v.</abbr> 13, &c. Movers,
‘Phönizier,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 105, 569, and see index, ‘Säule,’ &c. See De Brosses,
‘Dieux Fétiches,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 135 (considers bætyl = beth-el, &c.).
.fn-
.fn #
For references see Ducange <abbr rend=spell>s.v.</abbr> ‘petra’; Leslie, ‘Early Races of Scotland,’
<abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 256.
.fn-
.fn #
Nilsson, ‘Primitive Inhabitants of Scandinavia,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 241. See also
Meiners, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 671 (speaking stones in Norway, &c.).
.fn-
.fn #
Earl of Roden, ‘Progress of Reformation in Ireland,’ London, 1851,
<abbr=page>p.</abbr> 51. Sir <abbr rend=spell>J. E.</abbr> Tennent in ‘Notes and Queries,’ <abbr=February>Feb.</abbr> 7, 1852. See Borlase,
‘Antiquities of Cornwall,’ Oxford, 1754, book <abbr=three>iii.</abbr> <abbr=chapter>ch.</abbr> 2.
.fn-
.fn #
‘Early <abbr=History>Hist.</abbr> of Mankind,’ <abbr=chapter>chap.</abbr> <abbr=six>vi.</abbr>
.fn-
.fn #
For general collections of evidence, see especially Meiners, <lang=de>‘Geschichte
der Religionen,’</lang> <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> books <abbr=one>i.</abbr> and <abbr=five>v.</abbr>; Bastian, ‘Mensch,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr>; Waitz,
‘Anthropologie;’ De Brosses, ‘Dieux Fétiches,’ &c. Particular details in
<abbr rend=spell>J. L.</abbr> Wilson, ‘<abbr=West>W.</abbr> <abbr=Africa>Afr.</abbr>’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 393; Ellis, ‘Madagascar,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 395; Castrén,
‘Finnische Mythologie,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 193, &c.; Ward, ‘Hindoos,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr>; Köppen,
‘Rel. des Buddha,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 493, &c.; Grote, ‘Hist, of Greece.’
.fn-
.fn #
<abbr rend=spell>J. G.</abbr> Müller, ‘Amer. Urrelig.’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 263; Meiners, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 163.
.fn-
.fn #
Loskiel, ‘Ind. of <abbr rend=spell>N. A.</abbr>’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 39; Smith, ‘Virginia,’ in Pinkerton,
<abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=thirteen>xiii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 14; Waitz, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=three>iii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 203; <abbr rend=spell>J. G.</abbr> Müller, <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 95-8, 128.
.fn-
.fn #
Fernando Colombo, ‘Vita del Amm. Cristoforo Colombo,’ Venice, 1571,
<abbr=page>p.</abbr> 127, &c.; and ‘Life of Colon,’ in Pinkerton, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=twelve>xii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 84. Herrera,
dec. <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=three>iii.</abbr> 3. Rochefort, ‘Iles Antilles,’ <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 421-4. Waitz, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=three>iii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 384;
<abbr rend=spell>J. G.</abbr> Müller, <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 171-6, 182, 210, 232.
.fn-
.fn #
Prescott, ‘Peru,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 71, 89; Waitz, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=four>iv.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 458; <abbr rend=spell>J. G.</abbr> Müller,
<abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 322, 371.
.fn-
.fn #
Brasseur, ‘Mexique,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=three>iii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 486; Waitz, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=four>iv.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 148; <abbr rend=spell>J. G.</abbr>
Müller, <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 642.
.fn-
.fn #
Shortland, ‘Trads. of <abbr rend=spell>N. Z.</abbr>’ &c., <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 83; Taylor, <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 171, 183, 212.
.fn-
.fn #
<abbr rend=spell>J. R.</abbr> Forster, ‘Obs. during Voyage,’ London, 1778, <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 534, &c.; Ellis,
‘Polyn. Res.’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 281, &c., 323, &c. See also Earl, ‘Papuans,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 84;
Bastian, ‘Psychologie,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 78 (Nias).
.fn-
.fn #
<abbr=Saint>St.</abbr> John, ‘Far East,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 198.
.fn-
.fn #
Hutchinson in ‘Tr. Eth. Soc.’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 336; see Bastian, ‘Psychologie,’
<abbr=page>p.</abbr> 172.
.fn-
.fn #
Steinhauser, in ‘Magaz. der Evang. Missionen,’ Basel, 1856, <abbr=Number>No.</abbr> 2,
<abbr=page>p.</abbr> 131.
.fn-
.fn #
Schlegel, <lang=de>‘Ewe-Sprache,’</lang> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> <abbr=sixteen>xvi.</abbr>
.fn-
.fn #
Waitz, ‘Anthropologie,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 183; Denham, ‘Travels,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr>
<abbr=page>p.</abbr> 113; Römer, ‘Guinea’; Bosman, ‘Guinea,’ in Pinkerton, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=sixteen>xvi.</abbr> See
also Livingstone, ‘<abbr=South>S.</abbr> <abbr=Africa>Afr.</abbr>’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 282 (Balonda).
.fn-
.fn #
Castrén, ‘Finn. Myth.’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 193, &c.; Bastian, ‘Psych.’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 34, 208,
‘Oestl. Asien,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=three>iii.</abbr> <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 293, 486. See ‘Journ. Ind. Archip.’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 350
(Chinese).
.fn-
.fn #
Max Müller, ‘Chips,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> <abbr=seventeen>xvii.</abbr>; Ward, ‘Hindoos,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 198,
<abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> xxxv, 164, 234, 292, 485.
.fn-
.fn #
Arnobius, Adversus Gentes, <abbr=six>vi.</abbr> 17-19.
.fn-
.fn #
Augustinus <lang=la>‘De Civ. Dei,’</lang> <abbr=eight>viii.</abbr> 23: <lang=la>‘at ille visibilia et contrectabilia
simulacra, velut corpora deorum esse asserit; inesse autem his quosdam
spiritus invitatos, &c.... Hos ergo spiritus invisibiles per artem
quandam visibilibus rebus corporalis materiæ copulare, ut sint quasi
animata corpora, illis spiritibus dicata et subdita simulacra, &c.’</lang> See also
Tertullianus De Spectaculis, <abbr=twelve>xii.</abbr>: <lang=la>‘In mortuorum autem idolis dæmonia
consistunt, &c.’</lang>
.fn-
.fn #
Marcus Minucius Felix, Octavius, <abbr=capitulum>cap.</abbr> <abbr='twenty-seven'>xxvii.</abbr>: <lang=la>‘Isti igitur impuri
spiritus, dæmones, ut ostensum a magis, a philosophis, et a Platone sub
statuis et imaginibus consecrati delitescunt, &c.’</lang>
.fn-
.fn #
Bastian, ‘Oestl. Asien,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 455. See Spiegel, ‘Avesta,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr>
p. 54.
.fn-
.fn #
Porphyr. de Vita Pythagoræ. Oken, ‘Lehrbuch der Naturphilosophie,’
2753.
.fn-
.fn #
Suidas, <abbr rend=spell>s.v.</abbr> ἐγγαστρίμυθος; Isidor. Gloss. <abbr rend=spell>s.v.</abbr> ‘præcantatores’; Bastian,
‘Mensch,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 578. Maury, ‘Magie,’ &c. <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 269. Doolittle, ‘Chinese,’
<abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 115.
.fn-
// File: 192.png
.pn +1
.sp 4
.h2 id=chap15
CHAPTER <abbr=fifteen>XV.</abbr> | ANIMISM (<i>continued</i>).
.pm letter-start
Spirits regarded as personal causes of Phenomena of the World—Pervading
Spirits as good and evil Demons affecting man—Spirits manifest in
Dreams and Visions: Nightmares; Incubi and Succubi; Vampires;
Visionary Demons—Demons of darkness repelled by fire—Demons otherwise
manifest: seen by animals; detected by footprints—Spirits conceived
and treated as material—Guardian and Familiar Spirits—Nature-Spirits;
historical course of the doctrine—Spirits of Volcanoes, Whirlpools,
Rocks—Water-Worship: Spirits of Wells, Streams, Lakes, &c.—Tree-Worship:
Spirits embodied in or inhabiting Trees; Spirits of
Groves and Forests—Animal-Worship: Animals worshipped, directly, or
as incarnations or representatives of Deities; Totem-Worship; Serpent-Worship—Species-Deities;
their relation to Archetypal Ideas.
.pm letter-end
.sp 2
We have now to enter on the final topic of the investigation
of Animism, by completing the classified survey of
spiritual beings in general, from the myriad souls, elves,
fairies, genii, conceived as filling their multifarious offices in
man’s life and the world’s, up to the deities who reign, few
and mighty, over the spiritual hierarchy. In spite of endless
diversity of detail, the general principles of this investigation
seem comparatively easy of access to the enquirer,
if he will use the two keys which the foregoing studies
supply: first, that spiritual beings are modelled by man on
his primary conception of his own human soul, and second,
that their purpose is to explain nature on the primitive
childlike theory that it is truly and throughout ‘Animated
Nature.’ If, as the poet says, <lang=la>‘Felix qui potuit rerum
cognoscere causas,’</lang> then rude tribes of ancient men had
within them this source of happiness, that they could
explain to their own content the causes of things. For to
// File: 193.png
.pn +1
them spiritual beings, elves and gnomes, ghosts and manes,
demons and deities, were the living personal causes of
universal life. ‘The first men found everything easy, the
mysteries of nature were not so hidden from them as from
us,’ said Jacob Böhme the mystic. True, we may well
answer, if these primitive men believed in that animistic
philosophy of nature which even now survives in the savage
mind. They could ascribe to kind or hostile spirits all good
and evil of their own lives, and all striking operations of
nature; they lived in familiar intercourse with the living
and powerful souls of their dead ancestors, with the spirits
of the stream and grove, plain and mountain, they knew
well the living mighty Sun pouring his beams of light and
heat upon them, the living mighty Sea dashing her fierce
billows on the shore, the great personal Heaven and Earth
protecting and producing all things. For as the human
body was held to live and act by virtue of its own inhabiting
spirit-soul, so the operations of the world seemed to be
carried on by the influence of other spirits. And thus
Animism, starting as a philosophy of human life, extended
and expanded itself till it became a philosophy of nature
at large.

To the minds of the lower races it seems that all nature
is possessed, pervaded, crowded, with spiritual beings. In
seeking by a few types to give an idea of this conception of
pervading Spirits in its savage and barbaric stage, it is not
indeed possible to draw an absolute line of separation between
spirits occupied in affecting for good and ill the life of Man,
and spirits specially concerned in carrying on the operations
of Nature. In fact these two classes of spiritual beings blend
into one another as inextricably as do the original animistic
doctrines they are based on. As, however, the spirits considered
directly to affect the life and fortune of Man lie
closest to the centre of the animistic scheme, it is well to
give them precedence. The description and function of
these beings extend upwards from among the rudest human
tribes. Milligan writes of the Tasmanians: ‘They were
// File: 194.png
.pn +1
polytheists; that is, they believed in guardian angels or
spirits, and in a plurality of powerful but generally evil-disposed
beings, inhabiting crevices and caverns of rocky
mountains, and making temporary abode in hollow trees and
solitary valleys; of these a few were supposed to be of great
power, while to the majority were imputed much of the
nature and attributes of the goblins and elves of our native
land.’[#] Oldfield writes of the aborigines of Australia, ‘The
number of supernatural beings, feared if not loved, that they
acknowledge, is exceedingly great; for not only are the
heavens peopled with such, but the whole face of the country
swarms with them; every thicket, most watering-places, and
all rocky places abound with evil spirits. In like manner,
every natural phenomenon is believed to be the work of
demons, none of which seem of a benign nature, one and
all apparently striving to do all imaginable mischief to the
poor black fellow.’[#] It must be indeed an unhappy race
among whom such a demonology could shape itself, and it
is a relief to find that other people of low culture, while
recognizing the same spiritual world swarming about them,
do not hold its main attribute to be spite against themselves.
Among the Algonquin Indians of North America, Schoolcraft
finds the very groundwork of their religion in the
belief ‘that the whole visible and invisible creation is
animated with various orders of malignant or benign
spirits, who preside over the daily affairs and over the final
destinies of men.’[#] Among the Khonds of Orissa, Macpherson
describes the greater gods and tribal manes, and
below these the order of minor and local deities: ‘They
are the tutelary gods of every spot on earth, having power
over the functions of nature which operate there, and over
everything relating to human life in it. Their number is
// File: 195.png
.pn +1
unlimited. They fill all nature, in which no power or object,
from the sea to the clods of the field, is without its deity.
They are the guardians of hills, groves, streams, fountains,
paths, and hamlets, and are cognizant of every human
action, want, and interest in the locality, where they preside.’[#]
Describing the animistic mythology of the Turanian
tribes of Asia and Europe, Castrén has said that every land,
mountain, rock, river, brook, spring, tree, or whatsoever it
may be, has a spirit for an inhabitant; the spirits of the
trees and stones, of the lakes and brooks, hear with pleasure
the wild man’s pious prayers and accept his offerings.[#] Such
are the conceptions of the Guinea negro, who finds the
abodes of his good and evil spirits in great rocks, hollow
trees, mountains, deep rivers, dense groves, echoing caverns,
and who passing silently by these sacred places leaves some
offering, if it be but a leaf or a shell picked up on the
beach.[#] Such are examples which not unfairly picture the
belief of the lower races in a world of spirits on earth, and
such descriptions apply to the state of men’s minds along
the course of civilization.

The doctrine of ancient philosophers such as Philo[#]
and Iamblichus,[#] of spiritual beings swarming through the
atmosphere we breathe, was carried on and developed in
special directions in the discussions concerning the nature
and functions of the world-pervading host of angels and
devils, in the writings of the early Christian Fathers.[#]
Theologians of modern centuries have for the most part
seen reason to reduce within comparatively narrow limits
the action ascribed to external spiritual beings on mankind;
// File: 196.png
.pn +1
yet there are some who retain to the full the angelology
and demonology of Origen and Tertullian. These two
views may be well contrasted by setting side by side the
judgments of two ecclesiastics of the Roman Church, as
to the belief in pervading demons prevalent in uncivilized
countries. The celebrated commentator, Dom Calmet,
lays down in the most explicit terms the doctrine of
angels and demons, as a matter of dogmatic theology. But
he is less inclined to receive unquestioned the narratives
of particular manifestations in the mediæval and modern
world. He mentions indeed the testimony of Louis Vivez,
that in the newly discovered countries of America, nothing
is more common than to see spirits which appear at noon-day,
not only in the country but in towns and villages,
speaking, commanding, sometimes even striking men;
and the account by Olaus Magnus of the spectres or
spirits seen in Sweden and Norway, Finland and Lapland,
which do wonderful things, some even serving men as
domestics and driving the cattle out to pasture. But
what Calmet remarks on these stories, is that the greater
ignorance prevails in a country, the more superstition
reigns there.[#] It seems that in our own day, however,
the tendency is to encourage less sceptical views. Monsignor
Gaume’s book on ‘Holy Water,’ which not long
since received the special and formal approval of Pius <abbr='the ninth'>IX.</abbr>,
appears ‘at an epoch when the millions of evil angels which
surround us are more enterprising than ever;’ and here
Olaus Magnus’ story of the demons infesting Northern
Europe is not only cited but corroborated.[#] On the whole,
the survey of the doctrine of pervading spirits through all
the grades of culture is a remarkable display of intellectual
continuity. Most justly does Ellis the missionary, depicting
the South Sea Islanders’ world crowded with its innumerable
pervading spirits, point out the closeness of correspondence
here between doctrines of the savage and the
// File: 197.png
.pn +1
civilized animist, expressed as both may be in Milton’s
familiar lines:—

.pm verse-start
‘Millions of spiritual creatures walk the earth,
Unseen, both when we wake, and when we sleep.’[#]
.pm verse-end

As with souls, so with other spirits, man’s most distinct
and direct intercourse is had where they become actually
present to his senses in dreams and visions. The belief
that such phantoms are real and personal spirits, suggested
and maintained as it is by the direct evidence of the senses
of sight, touch, and hearing, is naturally an opinion usual
in savage philosophy, and indeed elsewhere, long and obstinately
resisting the attacks of the later scientific doctrine.
The demon Koin strives to throttle the dreaming Australian;[#]
the evil ‘na’ crouches on the stomach of the
Karen;[#] the North American Indian, gorged with feasting,
is visited by nocturnal spirits;[#] the Caribs, subject to
hideous dreams, often woke declaring that the demon
Maboya had beaten them in their sleep, and they could
still feel the pain.[#] These demons are the very elves
and nightmares that to this day in benighted districts of
Europe ride and throttle the snoring peasant, and whose
names, not forgotten among the educated, have only
made the transition from belief to jest.[#] A not less distinct
product of the savage animistic theory of dreams
as real visits from personal spiritual beings, lasted on
without a shift or break into the belief of mediæval
Christendom. This is the doctrine of the incubi and
succubi, those male and female nocturnal demons which
consort sexually with men and women. We may set out
// File: 198.png
.pn +1
with their descriptions among the islanders of the Antilles,
where they are the ghosts of the dead, vanishing when
clutched;[#] in New Zealand, where ancestral deities ‘form
attachments with females and pay them repeated visits,’
while in the Samoan Islands such intercourse of mischievious
inferior gods caused ‘many supernatural conceptions;’[#]
and in Lapland, where details of this last extreme
class have also been placed on record.[#] From these lower
grades of culture the idea may be followed onward. Formal
rites are specified in the Hindu Tantra, which enable a
man to obtain a companion-nymph by worshipping her and
repeating her name by night in a cemetery.[#] Augustine, in
an instructive passage, states the popular notions of the
visits of incubi, vouched for, he tells us, by testimony of
such quantity and quality that it may seem impudence to
deny it; yet he is careful not to commit himself to a positive
belief in such spirits.[#] Later theologians were less cautious,
and grave argumentation on nocturnal intercourse with
incubi and succubi was carried on till, at the height of
mediæval civilization, it is found accepted in full belief by
ecclesiastics and lawyers. Nor is it to be counted as an
ugly but harmless superstition, when for example it is
set forth in the Bull of Pope Innocent <abbr='the eighth'>VIII.</abbr> in 1484, as an
// File: 199.png
.pn +1
accepted accusation against ‘many persons of both sexes,
forgetful of their own salvation, and falling away from the
Catholic faith.’ The practical outcome of this belief is
known to students who have traced the consequence of the
Papal Bull in the legal manual of the witchcraft tribunals,
drawn up by the three appointed Inquisitors, the infamous
<lang=la>Malleus Maleficarum</lang>; and have followed the results of this
again into those dreadful records which relate in their bald
matter-of-fact phraseology the confessions of the crime of
diabolic intercourse, wrung from the wretched victims
worked on by threat and persuasion in the intervals of the
rack, till enough evidence was accumulated for clear judgment,
and sentence of the stake.[#] I need not dwell on the
mingled obscenity and horror of these details, which here
only have their bearing on the history of animism. But it
will aid the ethnographer to understand the relation of
modern to savage philosophy, if he will read Richard Burton’s
seriously believing account in the ‘Anatomy of Melancholy,’
where he concludes with acquiescence in a declaration
lately made by Lipsius, that on the showing of daily
narratives and judicial sentences, in no age had these
lecherous demons appeared in such numbers as in his own
time—and this was about <abbr rend=spell><sc>A.D.</sc></abbr> 1600.[#]

In connexion with the nightmare and the incubus, another
variety of nocturnal demon requires notice, the vampire.
Inasmuch as certain patients are seen becoming day by day,
without apparent cause, thin, weak, and bloodless, savage
animism is called upon to produce a satisfactory explanation,
and does so in the doctrine that there exist certain
demons which eat out the souls or hearts or suck the blood
of their victims. The Polynesians said that it was the
// File: 200.png
.pn +1
departed souls (tii) which quitted the graves and grave-idols
to creep by night into the houses, and devour the heart and
entrails of the sleepers, and these died.[#] The Karens tell
of the ‘kephu,’ which is a wizard’s stomach going forth in
the shape of a head and entrails, to devour the souls of
men, and they die.[#] The Mintira of the Malay Peninsula
have their ‘hantu penyadin;’ he is a water-demon, with a
dog’s head and an alligator’s mouth, who sucks blood from
men’s thumbs and great toes, and they die.[#] It is in Slavonia
and Hungary that the demon blood-suckers have their
principal abode, and to this district belongs their special
name of <i>vampire</i>, Polish <i>upior</i>, Russian <lang=ru><i>upir</i></lang>. There is a
whole literature of hideous vampire-stories, which the student
will find elaborately discussed in Calmet. The shortest
way of treating the belief is to refer it directly to the principles
of savage animism. We shall see that most of its
details fall into their places at once, and that vampires are
not mere creations of groundless fancy, but causes conceived
in spiritual form to account for specific facts of wasting
disease. As to their nature and physical action, there are
two principal theories, but both keep close to the original
animistic idea of spiritual beings, and consider these demons
to be human souls. The first theory is that the soul of a
living man, often a sorcerer, leaves its proper body asleep
and goes forth, perhaps in the visible form of a straw or
fluff of down, slips through keyholes and attacks its sleeping
victim. If the sleeper should wake in time to clutch
this tiny soul-embodiment, he may through it have his
revenge by maltreating or destroying its bodily owner.
Some say these ‘mury’ come by night to men, sit upon
their breasts and suck their blood, while others think it is
only children’s blood they suck, they being to grown people
mere nightmares. Here we have the actual phenomenon
of nightmare, adapted to a particular purpose. The second
// File: 201.png
.pn +1
theory is that the soul of a dead man goes out from its
buried corpse and sucks the blood of living men. The
victim becomes thin, languid, and bloodless, falls into a
rapid decline and dies. Here again is actual experience,
but a new fancy is developed to complete the idea. The
corpse thus supplied by its returning soul with blood, is
imagined to remain unnaturally fresh and supple and ruddy;
and accordingly the means of detecting a vampire is to
open his grave, where the reanimated corpse may be found
to bleed when cut, and even to move and shriek. One
way to lay a vampire is to stake down the corpse (as with
suicides and with the same intention); but the more effectual
plan is to behead and burn it. This is the substance
of the doctrine of vampires. Still, as one order of demons
is apt to blend into others, the vampire-legends are much
mixed with other animistic folklore. Vampires appear in
the character of the poltergeist or knocker, as causing
those disturbances in houses which modern spiritualism
refers in like manner to souls of the departed. Such was
the ghost of a certain surly peasant who came out of his
grave in the island of Mycone in 1700, after he had been
buried but two days; he came into the houses, upset the
furniture, put the lamps out, and carried on his tricks till
the whole population went wild with terror. Tournefort
happened to be there and was present at the exhumation;
his account is curious evidence of the way an excited mob
could persuade themselves, without the least foundation
of fact, that the body was warm and its blood red. Again,
the blood-sucker is very generally described under the
Slavonic names of werewolf (wilkodlak, brukolaka, &c.);
the descriptions of the two creatures are inextricably mixed
up, and a man whose eyebrows meet, as if his soul were
taking flight like a butterfly, to enter some other body,
may be marked by this sign either as a werewolf or a vampire.
A modern account of vampirism in Bulgaria well
illustrates the nature of spirits as conceived in such beliefs
as these. A sorcerer armed with a saint’s picture will hunt
// File: 202.png
.pn +1
a vampire into a bottle containing some of the filthy food
that the demon loves; as soon as he is fairly inside he is
corked down, the bottle is thrown into the fire, and the
vampire disappears for ever.[#]

As to the savage visionary and the phantoms he beholds,
the Greenlander preparing for the profession of sorcerer
may stand as type, when, rapt in contemplation in his
desert solitude, emaciated by fasting and disordered by fits,
he sees before him scenes with figures of men and animals,
which he believes to be spirits. Thus it is interesting to
read the descriptions by Zulu converts of the dreadful
creatures which they see in moments of intense religious
exaltation, the snake with great eyes and very fearful, the
leopard creeping stealthily, the enemy approaching with his
long assagai in his hand—these coming one after another
to the place where the man has gone to pray in secret, and
striving to frighten him from his knees.[#] Thus the visionary
temptations of the Hindu ascetic and the mediæval saint are
happening in our own day, though their place is now rather
in the medical handbook than in the record of miracle.
Like the disease-demons and the oracle-demons, these
spiritual groups have their origin not in fancy, but in real
phenomena interpreted on animistic principles.

In the dark especially, harmful spirits swarm. Round
native Australian encampments, Sir George Grey used to
see the bush dotted with little moving points of fire; these
were the firesticks carried by the old women sent to look
after the young ones, but who dared not quit the firelight
without a brand to protect them from the evil spirits.[#] So
South American Indians would carry brands or torches for
fear of evil demons when they ventured into the dark.[#]
// File: 203.png
.pn +1
Tribes of the Malay Peninsula light fires near a mother at
childbirth, to scare away the evil spirits.[#] Such notions
extend to higher levels of civilization. In Southern India,
where for fear of pervading spirits only pressing need will
induce a man to go abroad after sundown, the unlucky
wight who has to venture into the dark will carry a fire-brand
to keep off the spectral foes. Even in broad daylight,
the Hindu lights lamps to keep off the demons,[#] a
ceremony which is to be noticed again at a Chinese wedding.[#]
In Europe, the details of the use of fire to drive off
demons and witches are minute and explicit. The ancient
Norse colonists in Iceland carried fire round the lands they
intended to occupy, to expel the evil spirits. Such ideas
have brought into existence a whole group of Scandinavian
customs, still remembered in the country, but dying out in
practice. Till a child is baptized, the fire must never be
let out, lest the trolls should be able to steal the infant; a
live coal must be cast after the mother as she goes to be
churched, to prevent the trolls from carrying her off bodily
or bewitching her; a live coal is to be thrown after a troll-wife
or witch as she quits a house, and so forth.[#] Into
modern times, the people of the Hebrides continued to
protect the mother and child from evil spirits, by carrying
fire round them.[#] In modern Bulgaria, on the Feast of
<abbr=Saint>St.</abbr> Demetrius, lighted candles are placed in the stables and
the wood-shed, to prevent evil spirits from entering into
// File: 204.png
.pn +1
the domestic animals.[#] Nor did this ancient idea remain
a mere lingering notion of peasant folklore. Its adoption
by the Church is obvious in the ceremonial benediction of
candles in the Roman Ritual: <lang=la>‘Ut quibuscumque locis
accensæ, sive positæ fuerint, discedant principes tenebrarum,
et contremiscant, et fugiant pavidi cum omnibus
ministris suis ab habitationibus illis, &c.’</lang> The metrical
translation of Naogeorgus shows perfectly the retention of
primitive animistic ideas in the middle ages:—

.pm verse-start
        ‘... a wondrous force and might
Doth in these candels lie, which if at any time they light,
They sure beleve that neyther storm or tempest dare abide,
Nor thunder in the skies be heard, nor any devil’s spide,
Nor fearefull sprightes that walke by night, nor hurts of frost or haile.’[#]
.pm verse-end

Animals stare and startle when we see no cause; is it
that they see spirits invisible to man? Thus the Greenlander
says that the seals and wildfowl are scared by
spectres, which no human eye but the sorcerer’s can behold;[#]
and thus the Khonds hold that their flitting
ethereal gods, invisible to man, are seen by beasts.[#] The
thought holds no small place in the folklore of the world.
Telemachos could not discern Athene standing near him,
for not to all do the gods visibly appear; but Odysseus saw
her, and the dogs, and they did not bark, but with low
whine slunk across the dwelling to the further side.[#] So
in old Scandinavia, the dogs could see Hela the death-goddess
move unseen by men;[#] so Jew and Moslem,
hearing the dogs howl, know that they have seen the
Angel of Death come on his awful errand;[#] while the
// File: 205.png
.pn +1
beliefs that animals see spirits, and that a dog’s melancholy
howl means death somewhere near, are still familiar to our
own popular superstition.

Another means by which men may detect the presence of
invisible spirits, is to adopt the thief-catcher’s well-known
device of strewing ashes. According to the ideas of a certain
stage of animism, a spirit is considered substantial
enough to leave a footprint. The following instances relate
sometimes to souls, sometimes to other beings. The Philippine
islanders expected the dead to return on the third day
to his dwelling, wherefore they set a vessel of water for him
to wash himself clean from the grave-mould, and strewed
ashes to see footprints.[#] A more elaborate rite forms part
of the funeral customs of the Hos of North-East India.
On the evening of a death, the near relatives perform the
ceremony of calling the dead. Boiled rice and a pot of
water are placed in an inner room, and ashes sprinkled
from thence to the threshold. Two relatives go to the
place where the body was burnt, and walk round it beating
ploughshares and chanting a plaintive dirge to call the spirit
home; while two others watch the rice and water to see
if they are disturbed, and look for the spirit-footsteps in
the ashes. If a sign appears, it is received with shivering
horror and weeping, the mourners outside coming in to
join. Till the survivors are thus satisfied of the spirit’s
return, the rite must be repeated.[#] In Yucatan there is
mention of the custom of leaving a child alone at night in a
place strewn with ashes; if the footprint of an animal were
found next morning, this animal was the guardian deity of
the child.[#] Beside this may be placed the Aztec ceremony
at the second festival of the Sun-god Tezcatlipoca, when
they sprinkled maize-flour before his sanctuary, and his
// File: 206.png
.pn +1
high-priest watched till he beheld the divine footprints,
and then shouted to announce, ‘Our great god is come.’[#]
Among such rites in the Old World, the Talmud contains
a salient instance; there are a great multitude of devils, it
is said; and he who will be aware of them let him take
sifted ashes and strew them by his bed, and in the early
morning he shall see as it were marks of cocks’ feet.[#]
This is an idea that has widely spread in the modern
world, as where in German folklore the little ‘earth-men’
make footprints like a duck’s or goose’s in the
strewn ashes. Other marks, too, betoken the passage of
spirit-visitors;[#] and as for ghosts, our own superstition
is among the most striking of the series. On <abbr=Saint>St.</abbr> Mark’s
Eve, ashes are to be sifted over the hearth, and the footprints
will be seen of any one who is to die within the year;
many a mischievous wight has made a superstitious family
miserable by slily coming down stairs and marking the
print of some one’s shoe.[#] Such details as these may
justify us in thinking that the lower races are apt to ascribe
to spirits in general that kind of ethereal materiality which
we have seen they attribute to souls. Explicit statements
on the subject are scarce till we reach the level of early
Christian theology. The ideas of Tertullian and Origen,
as to the thin yet not immaterial substance of angels and
demons, probably represent the conceptions of primitive
animism far more clearly than the doctrine which Calmet
lays down with the weight of theological dogma, that
angels, demons, and disembodied souls are pure immaterial
spirit; but that when by divine permission spirits
appear, act, speak, walk, eat, they must produce tangible
bodies by either condensing the air, or substituting
// File: 207.png
.pn +1
other terrestrial solid bodies capable of performing these
functions.[#]

No wonder that men should attack such material beings
by material means, and even sometimes try to rid themselves
by a general clearance from the legion of ethereal
beings hovering around them. As the Australians annually
drive from their midst the accumulated ghosts of the last
year’s dead, so the Gold Coast negroes from time to time
turn out with clubs and torches to drive the evil spirits
from their towns; rushing about and beating the air with
frantic howling, they drive the demons into the woods, and
then come home and sleep more easily, and for a while
afterwards enjoy better health.[#] When a baby was born in
a Kalmuk horde, the neighbours would rush about crying
and brandishing cudgels about the tents, to drive off the
harmful spirits who might hurt mother and child.[#] Keeping
up a closely allied idea in modern Europe, the Bohemians
at Pentecost, and the Tyrolese on Walpurgisnacht,
hunt the witches, invisible and imaginary, out of house
and stall.[#]

Closely allied to the doctrine of souls, and almost rivalling
it in the permanence with which it has held its place
through all the grades of animism, is the doctrine of patron,
guardian, or familiar spirits. These are beings specially
attached to individual men, soul-like in their nature, and
sometimes considered as actually being human souls.
These beings have, like all others of the spiritual world as
originally conceived, their reason and purpose. The
special functions which they perform are twofold. First,
while man’s own proper soul serves him for the ordinary
purposes of life and thought, there are times when powers
// File: 208.png
.pn +1
and impressions out of the course of the mind’s normal
action, and words that seem spoken to him by a voice from
without, messages of mysterious knowledge, of counsel or
warning, seem to indicate the intervention of as it were a
second superior soul, a familiar demon. And as enthusiasts,
seers, sorcerers, are the men whose minds most
often show such conditions, so to these classes more than
to others the informing and controlling patron-spirits are
attached. Second, while the common expected events of
daily life pass unnoticed as in the regular course of things,
such events as seem to fall out with especial reference to
an individual, demand an intervening agent; and thus the
decisions, discoveries, and deliverances, which civilized
men variously ascribe to their own judgment, to luck, and
to special interposition of Providence, are accounted for
in the lower culture by the action of the patron-spirit or
guardian-genius. Not to crowd examples from all the districts
of animism to which this doctrine belongs, let us
follow it by a few illustrations from the lower grades of
savagery upward. Among the Watchandis of Australia, it
is held that when a warrior slays his first man, the spirit of
the dead enters the slayer’s body and becomes his ‘woorie’
or warning spirit; taking up its abode near his liver,
it informs him by a scratching or tickling sensation of the
approach of danger.[#] In Tasmania, Dr. Milligan heard
a native ascribe his deliverance from an accident to the
preserving care of his deceased father’s spirit, his guardian
angel.[#] That the most important act of the North
American Indian’s religion is to obtain his individual
patron genius or deity, is well known. Among the Esquimaux,
the sorcerer qualifies for his profession by getting a
‘torngak’ or spirit which will henceforth be his familiar
demon, and this spirit may be the soul of a deceased
parent.[#] In Chili, as to guardian spirits, it has been remarked
// File: 209.png
.pn +1
that every Araucanian imagines he has one in
his service; ‘I keep my amchi-malghen (guardian nymph)
still,’ being a common expression when they succeed in
any undertaking.[#] The Caribs display the doctrine well in
both its general and special forms. On the one hand, there
is a guardian deity for each man, which accompanies his
soul to the next life; on the other hand, each sorcerer has
his familiar demon, which he evokes in mysterious darkness
by chants and tobacco-smoke; and when several
sorcerers call up their familiars together, the consequence
is apt to be a quarrel among the demons, and a fight.[#] In
Africa, the negro has his guardian spirit—how far identified
with what Europeans call soul or conscience, it may be
hard to determine; but he certainly looks upon it as a
being separate from himself, for he summons it by sorcery,
builds a little fetish-hut for it by the wayside, rewards and
propitiates it by libations of liquor and bits of food.[#] In
Asia, the Mongols, each with his patron genius,[#] and the
Laos sorcerers who can send their familiar spirits into
others’ bodies to cause disease,[#] are examples equally to
the purpose.

Among the Aryan nations of Northern Europe,[#] the old
doctrine of man’s guardian spirit may be traced, and in
classic Greece and Rome it renews with philosophic eloquence
and cultured custom the ideas of the Australian
and the African. The thought of the spiritual guide and
protector of the individual man is happily defined by
Menander, who calls the attendant genius, which each man
has from the hour of birth, the good mystagogue (i.e. the
novice’s guide to the mysteries) of this life.
// File: 210.png
.pn +1

.pm verse-start
<lang=grc>Ἄπαντι δαίμον ἀνδρὶ συμπαρίσταται</lang>
<lang=grc>Εὐθὺς γενομένῳ μυσταγωγὸς τοῦ βίου.</lang>
<lang=grc>Ἀγαθός; κακὸν γὰρ δαίμον’ οὐ νομιστέον</lang>
<lang=grc>Εἶναι τὸν βίον βλάπτοντα χρηστόν. Πάντα γὰρ</lang>
<lang=grc>Δεῖ ἀγαθὸν εἶναι τὸν Θεόν.</lang>
.pm verse-end

The divine warning voice which Sokrates used to hear, is a
salient example of the mental impressions leading to the
belief in guardian spirits.[#] In the Roman world, the
doctrine came to be accepted as a philosophy of human
life. Each man had his ‘genius natalis,’ associated with
him from birth to death, influencing his action and his fate,
standing represented by its proper image as a lar among
the household gods; and at weddings and joyous times,
and especially on the anniversary of the birthday when
genius and man began their united career, worship was
paid with song and dance to the divine image, adorned with
garlands, and propitiated with incense and libations of
wine. The demon or genius was, as it were, the man’s
companion soul, a second spiritual ego. The Egyptian
astrologer warned Antonius to keep far from the young
Octavius, ‘for thy demon,’ said he, ‘is in fear of his;’
and truly in after years that genius of Augustus had become
an imperial deity, by whom Romans swore solemn
oaths, not to be broken.[#] The doctrine which could thus
personify the character and fate of the individual man,
proved capable of a yet further development. Converting
into animistic entities the inmost operations of the human
mind, a dualistic philosophy conceived as attached to every
mortal a good and an evil genius, whose efforts through life
drew him backward and forward toward virtue and vice,
happiness and misery. It was the kakodaimōn of Brutus
// File: 211.png
.pn +1
which appeared to him by night in his tent: ‘I am thy
evil genius,’ it said, ‘we meet again at Philippi.’[#]

As we study the shapes which the attendant spirits of the
individual man assumed in early and mediæval Christendom,
it is plain that the good and evil angels contending for man
from birth to death, the guardian angel watching and protecting
him, the familiar spirit giving occult knowledge or
serving with magic art, continue in principle, and even in
detail, the philosophy of earlier culture. Such beings even
take visible form. <abbr=Saint>St.</abbr> Francisca had a familiar angel, not
merely that domestic one that is given as a guardian to
every man, but this was as it were a boy of nine years old,
with a face more splendid than the sun, clad in a little
white tunic; it was in after years that there came to her a
second angel, with a column of splendour rising to the sky,
and three golden palm-branches in his hands. Or such
attendant beings, though invisible, make their presence
evident by their actions, as in Calmet’s account of that
Cistercian monk whose familiar genius waited on him, and
used to get his chamber ready when he was coming back
from the country, so that people knew when to expect him
home.[#] There is a pleasant quaintness in Luther’s remark
concerning guardian angels, that a prince must have a
greater, stronger, wiser angel than a count, and a count
than a common man.[#] Bishop Bull, in one of his vigorous
sermons, thus sums up a learned argument: ‘I cannot but
judge it highly probable, that every faithful person at least
hath his particular good <i>Genius</i> or <i>Angel</i>, appointed by God
over him, as the Guardian and Guide of his Life.’ But he
// File: 212.png
.pn +1
will not insist on the belief, provided that the general
ministry of angels be accepted.[#] Swedenborg will go beyond
this. ‘Every man,’ he says, ‘is attended by an associate
spirit; for without such an associate, a man would be incapable
of thinking analytically, rationally, and spiritually.’[#]
Yet in the modern educated world at large, this group of
beliefs has passed into the stage of survival. The conception
of the good and evil genius contending for man through
life, indeed, perhaps never had much beyond the idealistic
meaning which art and poetry still give it. The traveller
in France may hear in our own day the peasant’s salutation,
<lang=fr>‘Bonjour à vous et à votre compagnie!’</lang> (i.e. your
guardian angel).[#] But at the birthday festivals of English
children, how few are even aware of the historical sequence,
plain as it is, from the rites of the classic natal genius and
the mediæval natal saint! Among us, the doctrine of
guardian angels is to be found in commentaries, and may
be sometimes mentioned in the pulpit; but the once distant
conception of a present guardian spirit, acting on each
individual man and interfering with circumstances on his
behalf, has all but lost its old reality. The familiar demon
which gave occult knowledge and did wicked work for the
magician, and sucked blood from miserable hags by witch-teats,
was two centuries ago as real to the popular mind as
the alembic or the black cat with which it was associated.
Now, it has been cast down to the limbo of unhallowed
superstitions.

To turn from Man to Nature. General mention has been
made already of the local spirits which belong to mountain
and rock and valley, to well and stream and lake, in brief
to those natural objects and places which in early ages
aroused the savage mind to mythological ideas, such as
modern poets in their altered intellectual atmosphere strive
// File: 213.png
.pn +1
to reproduce. In discussing these imaginary beings, it is
above all things needful to bring our minds into sympathy
with the lower philosophy. Here we must seek to realize
to the utmost the definition of the Nature-Spirits, to understand
with what distinct and full conviction savage philosophy
believes in their reality, to discern how, as living
causes, they can fill their places and do their daily work in
the natural philosophy of primæval man. Seeing how the
Iroquois at their festivals could thank the invisible aids or
good spirits, and with them the trees, shrubs, and plants,
the springs and streams, the fire and wind, the sun, moon,
and stars—in a word, every object that ministered to their
wants—we may judge what real personality they attached
to the myriad spirits which gave animated life to the world
around them.[#] The Gold Coast negro’s generic name for
a fetish-spirit is ‘wong;’ these aerial beings dwell in
temple-huts and consume sacrifices, enter into and inspire
their priests, cause health and sickness among men, and
execute the behests of the mighty Heaven-god. But part
or all of them are connected with material objects, and the
negro can say, ‘In this river, or tree, or amulet, there is a
wong.’ But he more usually says, ‘This river, or tree,
or amulet is a wong.’ Thus among the wongs of the
land are rivers, lakes, and springs, districts of land, termite-hills,
trees, crocodiles, apes, snakes, elephants, birds.[#] In
a word, his conceptions of animating souls and presiding
spirits as efficient causes of all nature are two groups of
ideas which we may well find it hard to distinguish, for the
sufficient reason that they are but varying developments of
the same fundamental animism.

In the doctrine of nature-spirits among nations which
have reached a higher grade of culture, are found at once
traces of such primitive thought, and of its change under
// File: 214.png
.pn +1
new intellectual conditions. Knowing the thoughts of rude
Turanian tribes of Siberia as to pervading spirits of nature,
we are prepared to look for remodelled ideas of the same
class among a nation whose religion shows plain traces of
evolution from the low Turanian stage. The archaic system
of manes-worship and nature-worship, which survives
as the state religion of China, fully recognizes the worship
of the numberless spirits which pervade the universe. The
belief in their personality is vouched for by the sacrifices
offered to them. ‘One must sacrifice to the spirits,’ says
Confucius, ‘as though they were present at the sacrifice.’
At the same time, spirits were conceived as embodied in
material objects. Confucius says, again: ‘The action of
the spirits, how perfect is it! Thou perceivest it, and
yet seest it not! Incorporated or immembered in things,
they cannot quit them. They cause men, clean and pure
and better clothed, to bring them sacrifice. Many, many,
are there of them, as the broad sea, as though they were
above and right and left.’ Here are traces of such a primitive
doctrine of personal and embodied nature-spirits as is
still at home in the religion of rude Siberian hordes. But
it was natural that Chinese philosophers should find means
of refining into mere ideality these ruder animistic creations.
Spirit (shin), they tell us, is the fine or tender part
in all the ten thousand things; all that is extraordinary or
supernatural is called spirit; the unsearchable of the male
and female principles is called spirit; he who knows the
way of passing away and coming to be, he knows the working
of spirit.[#]

The classic Greeks had inherited from their barbaric ancestors
a doctrine of the universe essentially similar to that
of the North American Indian, the West African, and the
Siberian. We know, more intimately than the heathen
religion of our own land, the ancient Greek scheme of
nature-spirits impelling and directing by their personal
power and will the functions of the universe, the ancient
// File: 215.png
.pn +1
Greek religion of nature, developed by imagination, adorned
by poetry, and consecrated by faith. History records for
our instruction, how out of the midst of this splendid and
honoured creed there were evolved the germs of the new
philosophy. Led by minuter insight and stricter reason,
thoughtful Greeks began the piecemeal supersession of the
archaic scheme, and set in movement the transformation of
animistic into physical science, which thence pervaded the
whole cultured world. Such, in brief, is the history of
the doctrine of nature-spirits from first to last. Let us
endeavour, by classifying some of its principal special
groups, to understand its place in the history of the human
intellect.

What causes volcanos? The Australians account for
volcanic rocks by the tradition that the sulky underground
‘ingna’ or demons made great fires and threw up red-hot
stones.[#] The Kamchadals say that just as they themselves
warm up their winter-houses, so the ‘kamuli’ or mountain-spirits
heat up the mountains in which they dwell, and
fling the brands out of the chimney.[#] The Nicaraguans
offered human sacrifices to Masaya or Popogatepec (Smoking-Mountain),
by throwing the bodies into the crater.
It seems as though it were a controlling deity, not the
mountain itself, that they worshipped; for one reads of the
chiefs going to the crater, whence a hideous old naked
woman came out and gave them counsel and oracle; at the
edge were placed earthen vessels of food to please her, or
to appease her when there was a storm or earthquake.[#]
Thus animism provided a theory of volcanoes, and so it was
likewise with whirlpools and rocks. In the Vei country in
West Africa, there is a dangerous rock on the Mafa river,
which is never passed without offering a tribute to the
spirit of the flood—a leaf of tobacco, a handful of rice, or
// File: 216.png
.pn +1
a drink of rum.[#] An early missionary account of a rock-demon
worshipped by the Huron Indians will show with
what absolute personality savages can conceive such a being.
In the hollow of a certain sacred rock, it is related, dwells
an ‘oki’ or spirit who can give success to travellers,
wherefore they put tobacco into one of the cracks, and pray
thus: ‘Demon who dwellest in this place, behold tobacco
I present to thee; help us, keep us from shipwreck, defend
us against our enemies, and vouchsafe that when we have
made a good trade, we may return safe and sound to our
village.’ Father Marquette relates how, travelling on a
river in the then little known region of North America, he
was told of a dreadful place to which the canoe was just
drawing near, where dwells a demon waiting to devour such
as dare to approach; this terrific manitu proved on arrival
to be some high rocks in the bend of the river, against
which the current runs violently.[#] Thus the missionary
found in living belief among the savage Indians the very
thought which had so long before passed into the classic
tale of Skylla and Charybdis.

In those moments of the civilized man’s life when he
casts off hard dull science, and returns to childhood’s
fancy, the world-old book of animated nature is open to
him anew. Then the well-worn thoughts come back fresh
to him, of the stream’s life that is so like his own; once
more he can see the rill leap down the hillside like a child,
to wander playing among the flowers; or can follow it as,
grown to a river, it rushes through a mountain gorge,
henceforth in sluggish strength to carry heavy burdens
across the plain. In all that water does, the poet’s fancy
can discern its personality of life. It gives fish to the
fisher, and crops to the husbandman; it swells in fury
and lays waste the land; it grips the bather with chill
// File: 217.png
.pn +1
and cramp, and holds with inexorable grasp its drowning
victim:[#]

.pm verse-start
“Tweed said to Till,
        ‘What gars ye rin sae still?’
Till said to Tweed,
        ‘Though ye rin wi’ speed,
And I rin slaw,
        Yet, where ye drown ae man,
I drown twa.’”
.pm verse-end

What ethnography has to teach of that great element of
the religion of mankind, the worship of well and lake,
brook and river, is simply this—that what is poetry to us
was philosophy to early man; that to his mind water acted
not by laws of force, but by life and will; that the water-spirits
of primæval mythology are as souls which cause the
water’s rush and rest, its kindness and its cruelty; that
lastly man finds, in the beings which with such power can
work him weal and woe, deities with a wider influence over
his life, deities to be feared and loved, to be prayed to and
praised and propitiated with sacrificial gifts.

In Australia, special water-demons infest pools and
watering-places. In the native theory of disease and
death, no personage is more prominent than the water-spirit,
which afflicts those who go into unlawful pools or
bathe at unlawful times, the creature which causes women
to pine and die, and whose very presence is death to the
beholder, save to the native doctors, who may visit the
water-spirit’s subaqueous abode and return with bleared
eyes and wet clothes to tell the wonders of their stay.[#] It
would seem that creatures with such attributes come
naturally into the category of spiritual beings, but in
such stories as that of the bunyip living in the lakes
// File: 218.png
.pn +1
and rivers and seen floating as big as a calf, which carries
off native women to his retreat below the waters, there
appears that confusion between the spiritual water-demon
and the material water-monster, which runs on into the
midst of European mythology in such conceptions as that
of the water-kelpie and the sea-serpent.[#] America gives
cases of other principal animistic ideas concerning water.
The water has its own spirits, writes Cranz, among the
Greenlanders, so when they come to an untried spring, an
angekok or the oldest man must drink first, to free it from
a harmful spirit.[#] ‘Who makes this river flow?’ asks the
Algonquin hunter in a medicine-song, and his answer is,
‘The spirit, he makes this river flow.’ In any great river,
or lake, or cascade, there dwell such spirits, looked upon as
mighty manitus. Thus Carver mentions the habit of the
Red Indians, when they reached the shores of Lake Superior
or the banks of the Mississippi, or any other great
body of water, to present to the spirit who resides there
some kind of offering; this he saw done by a Winnebago
chief who went with him to the Falls of <abbr=Saint>St.</abbr> Anthony.
Franklin saw a similar sacrifice made by an Indian, whose
wife had been afflicted with sickness by the water-spirits,
and who accordingly to appease them tied up in a small
bundle a knife and a piece of tobacco and some other
trifling articles, and committed them to the rapids.[#] On
the river-bank, the Peruvians would scoop up a handful of
water and drink it, praying the river-deity to let them cross
or to give them fish, and they threw maize into the stream
as a propitiatory offering; even to this day the Indians of
the Cordilleras perform the ceremonial sip before they will
pass a river on foot or horseback.[#] Africa displays well the
// File: 219.png
.pn +1
rites of water-worship. In the East, among the Wanika,
every spring has its spirit, to which oblations are made;
in the West, in the Akra district, lakes, ponds, and rivers
received worship as local deities. In the South, among the
Kafirs, streams are venerated as personal beings, or the
abodes of personal deities, as when a man crossing a river
will ask leave of its spirit, or having crossed will throw in a
stone; or when the dwellers by a stream will sacrifice a
beast to it in time of drought, or, warned by illness in the
tribe that their river is angry, will cast into it a few handfuls
of millet or the entrails of a slaughtered ox.[#] Not
less strongly marked are such ideas among the Tatar races
of the North. Thus the Ostyaks venerate the river Ob,
and when fish is scanty will hang a stone about a reindeer’s
neck and cast it in for a sacrifice. Among the Buraets, who
are professing Buddhists, the old worship may still be seen
at the picturesque little mountain lake of Ikeougoun, where
they come to the wooden temple on the shore to offer sacrifices
of milk and butter and the fat of the animals which
they burn on the altars. So across in Northern Europe,
almost every Esthonian village has its sacred sacrificial
spring. The Esths could at times even see the churl with
blue and yellow stockings rise from the holy brook Wöhhanda,
no doubt that same spirit of the brook to whom in
older days there were sacrificed beasts and little children;
in newer times, when a German landowner dared to build a
mill and dishonour the sacred water, there came bad seasons
that lasted year after year, and the country people burned
down the abominable thing.[#] As for the water-worship
prevailing among non-Aryan indigenes of British India, it
// File: 220.png
.pn +1
seems to reach its climax among the Bodo and Dhimal of
the North-East, tribes to whom the local rivers are the local
deities,[#] so that men worship according to their water-sheds,
and the map is a pantheon.

Nor is such reverence strange to Aryan nations. To the
modern Hindu, looking as he still does on a river as a living
personal being to be adored and sworn by, the Ganges is no
solitary water deity, but only the first and most familiar of
the long list of sacred streams.[#] Turn to the classic world,
and we but find the beliefs and rites of a lower barbaric
culture holding their place, consecrated by venerable antiquity
and glorified by new poetry and art. To the great
Olympian assembly in the halls of cloud-compelling Zeus,
came the Rivers, all save Ocean, and thither came the
nymphs who dwell in lovely groves and at the springs of
streams, and in the grassy meads; and they sate upon the
polished seats:—

.pm verse-start
<lang=grc>‘Οὔτε τις οὖν Ποταμῶν ἀπέην, νόσφ’ Ὠκεανοῖο,</lang>
<lang=grc>Οὔτ’ ἅρα Νυμφαών ταί τ’ ἄλσεα καλὰ νέμονται,</lang>
<lang=grc>Καὶ πηγὰς ποταμῶν, καὶ πίσεα ποιήεντα.</lang>
<lang=grc>Ἐλθόντες δ’ ἐς δῶμα Διὸς νεφεληγερέταο,</lang>
<lang=grc>Ξεστῇς αἰθούσῃσιν ἐφίζανον, ἃσ Διὶ πατρὶ</lang>
<lang=grc>Ἤφαιστος ποίησεν ἰδυίῃσι πραπίδεσσιν.’</lang>
.pm verse-end

Even against Hephaistos the Fire-god, a River-god dared
to stand opposed, deep-eddying Xanthos, called of men
Skamandros. He rushed down to overwhelm Achilles and
bury him in sand and slime, and though Hephaistos prevailed
against him with his flames, and forced him, with the
fish skurrying hither and thither in his boiling waves and
the willows scorched upon his banks, to rush on no more
but stand, yet at the word of white-armed Here, that it was
not fit for mortals’ sake to handle so roughly an immortal
god, Hephaistos quenched his furious fire, and the returning
flood sped again along his channel:—
// File: 221.png
.pn +1

.pm verse-start
<lang=grc>‘Ἤφαιστε, σχέο, τέκνον ἀγακλέες; οὐ γὰρ ἔοικεν</lang>
<lang=grc>Ἀθάνατον θεὸν ὧδε βροτῶν ἕνεκα στυφελίζειν.</lang>
<lang=grc>Ὣς ἔφαθ’·  Ἥφαιστος δὲ κατέσβεσε θεσπιδαὲς πῦρ·</lang>
<lang=grc>Ἄψορρον δ’ ἄρα κῦμα κατέσσυτο καλὰ ῥέεθρα.’</lang>
.pm verse-end

To beings thus conceived in personal divinity, full worship
was given. Odysseus invokes the river of Scheria;
Skamandros had his priest and Spercheios his grove; and
sacrifice was done to the rival of Herakles, the river-god
Acheloos, eldest of the three thousand river-children of
old Okeanos.[#] Through the ages of the classic world,
the river-gods and the water-nymphs held their places,
till within the bounds of Christendom they came to be
classed with ideal beings like them in the mythology of the
northern nations, the kindly sprites to whom offerings were
given at springs and lakes, and the treacherous nixes who
entice men to a watery death. In times of transition, the
new Christian authorities made protest against the old
worship, passing laws to forbid adoration and sacrifice
to fountains—as when Duke Bretislav forbade the still
half-pagan country folk of Bohemia to offer libations and
sacrifice victims at springs,[#] and in England Ecgbert’s
Poenitentiale proscribed the like rites, ‘if any man vow
or bring his offerings to any well,’ ‘if one hold his
vigils at any well.’[#] But the old veneration was too strong
to be put down, and with a varnish of Christianity and sometimes
the substitution of a saint’s name, water-worship has
held its own to our day. The Bohemians will go to pray
on the river-bank where a man has been drowned, and
there they will cast in an offering, a loaf of new bread and
a pair of wax-candles. On Christmas Eve they will put
// File: 222.png
.pn +1
a spoonful of each dish on a plate, and after supper throw
the food into the well, with an appointed formula, somewhat
thus:—

.pm verse-start
‘House-father gives thee greeting,
Thee by me entreating:
Springlet, share our feast of Yule,
But give us water to the full;
When the land is plagued with drought,
Drive it with thy well-spring out.’[#]
.pm verse-end

It well shows the unchanged survival of savage thought
in modern peasants’ minds, to find still in Slavonic lands
the very same fear of drinking a harmful spirit in the
water, that has been noticed among the Esquimaux. It
is a sin for a Bulgarian not to throw some water out of
every bucket brought from the fountain; some elemental
spirit might be floating on the surface, and if not thrown
out, might take up his abode in the house, or enter into
the body of some one drinking from the vessel.[#] Elsewhere
in Europe, the list of still existing water-rites may be
extended. The ancient lake-offerings of the South of
France seem not yet forgotten in La Lozère, the Bretons
venerate as of old their sacred springs, and Scotland
and Ireland can show in parish after parish the sites and
even the actual survivals of such observance at the holy
wells. Perhaps Welshmen no longer offer cocks and hens
to <abbr=Saint>St.</abbr> Tecla at her sacred well and church of Llandegla,
but Cornish folk still drop into the old holy-wells offerings
of pins, nails, and rags, expecting from their waters cure
for disease, and omens from their bubbles as to health
and marriage.[#]

The spirits of the tree and grove no less deserve our
// File: 223.png
.pn +1
study for their illustrations of man’s primitive animistic
theory of nature. This is remarkably displayed in that
stage of thought where the individual tree is regarded as
a conscious personal being, and as such receives adoration
and sacrifice. Whether such a tree is looked on as inhabited,
like a man, by its own proper life or soul, or as
possessed, like a fetish, by some other spirit which has
entered it and uses it for a body, is often hard to determine.
Shelley’s lines well express a doubting conception
familiar to old barbaric thought—

.pm verse-start
‘Whether the sensitive plant, or that
Which within its boughs like a spirit sat
Ere its outward form had known decay,
Now felt this change, I cannot say.’
.pm verse-end

But this vagueness is yet again a proof of the principle which
I have confidently put forward here, that the conceptions of
the inherent soul and of the embodied spirit are but modifications
of one and the same deep-lying animistic thought.
The Mintira of the Malay Peninsula believe in ‘hantu
kayu,’ i.e. ‘tree-spirits,’ or ‘tree-demons,’ which frequent
every species of tree, and afflict men with diseases;
some trees are noted for the malignity of their demons.[#]
Among the Dayaks of Borneo, certain trees possessed by
spirits must not be cut down; if a missionary ventured to
fell one, any death that happened afterwards would naturally
be set down to this crime.[#] The belief of certain Malays of
Sumatra is expressly stated, that certain venerable trees are
the residence, or rather the material frame, of spirits of the
woods.[#] In the Tonga Islands, we hear of natives laying
offerings at the foot of particular trees, with the idea of
their being inhabited by spirits.[#] So in America, the
Ojibwa medicine-man has heard the tree utter its complaint
// File: 224.png
.pn +1
when wantonly cut down.[#] A curious and suggestive
description bearing on this point is given in Friar Roman
Pane’s account of the religion of the Antilles islanders,
drawn up by order of Columbus. Certain trees, he declares,
were believed to send for sorcerers, to whom they gave
orders how to shape their trunks into idols, and these
‘cemi’ being then installed in temple-huts, received prayer
and inspired their priests with oracles.[#] Africa shows as
well-defined examples. The negro woodman cuts down
certain trees in fear of the anger of their inhabiting demons,
but he finds his way out of the difficulty by a sacrifice to
his own good genius, or, when he is giving the first cuts to
the great asorin-tree, and its indwelling spirit comes out
to chase him, he cunningly drops palm-oil on the ground,
and makes his escape while the spirit is licking it up.[#] A
negro was once worshipping a tree with an offering of food,
when some one pointed out to him that the tree did not
eat; the negro answered, ‘O the tree is not fetish, the
fetish is a spirit and invisible, but he has descended into
this tree. Certainly he cannot devour our bodily food, but
he enjoys its spiritual part and leaves behind the bodily
which we see.’[#] Tree-worship is largely prevalent in
Africa, and much of it may be of this fully animistic kind;
as where in Whidah Bosman says that ‘the trees, which
are the gods of the second rank of this country, are only
prayed to and presented with offerings in time of sickness,
more especially fevers, in order to restore the patients to
health;’[#] or where in Abyssinia the Gallas made pilgrimage
from all quarters to their sacred tree Wodanabe on
the banks of the Hawash, worshipping it and praying to it
for riches, health, life, and every blessing.[#]
// File: 225.png
.pn +1

The position of tree-worship in Southern Asia in relation
to Buddhism is of particular interest. To this day there
are districts of this region, Buddhist or under strong
Buddhist influence, where tree-worship is still displayed with
absolute clearness of theory and practice. Here in legend
a dryad is a being capable of marriage with a human hero,
while in actual fact a tree-deity is considered human enough
to be pleased with dolls set up to swing in the branches.
The Talein of Burmah, before they cut down a tree, offer
prayers to its ‘kaluk’ (<i>i.q.</i>, ‘kelah’), its inhabiting spirit
or soul. The Siamese offer cakes and rice to the takhien-tree
before they fell it, and believe the inhabiting nymphs
or mothers of trees to pass into guardian-spirits of the boats
built of their wood, so that they actually go on offering
sacrifice to them in this their new condition.[#] These people
have indeed little to learn from any other race, however
savage, of the principles of the lower animism. The question
now arises, did such tree-worship belong to the local
religions among which Buddhism established itself? There
is strong evidence that this was the case. Philosophic
Buddhism, as known to us by its theological books, does
not include trees among sentient beings possessing mind,
but it goes so far as to acknowledge the existence of the
‘dewa’ or genius of a tree. Buddha, it is related, told a
story of a tree crying out to the brahman carpenter who
was going to cut it down, ‘I have a word to say, hear my
word!’ but then the teacher goes on to explain that it was
not really the tree that spoke, but a dewa dwelling in it.
Buddha himself was a tree-genius forty-three times in the
course of his transmigrations. Legend says that during one
such existence, a certain brahman used to pray for protection
to the tree which Buddha was attached to; but the
transformed teacher reproved the tree-worshipper for thus
// File: 226.png
.pn +1
addressing himself to a senseless thing which hears and
knows nothing.[#] As for the famous Bo tree, its miraculous
glories are not confined to the ancient Buddhist annals;
for its surviving descendant, grown from the branch of the
parent tree sent by King Asoka from India to Ceylon in
the <abbr=third>3rd</abbr> century <abbr rend=spell><sc>B.C.</sc></abbr>, to this day receives the worship of the
pilgrims who come by thousands to do it honour, and offer
prayer before it. Beyond these hints and relics of the old
worship, however, Mr. Fergusson’s recent investigations,
published in his ‘Tree and Serpent Worship,’ have
brought to light an ancient state of things which the orthodox
Buddhist literature gives little idea of. It appears
from the sculptures of the Sanchi tope in Central India,
that in the Buddhism of about the <abbr=first>1st</abbr> century <abbr rend=spell><sc>A.D.</sc></abbr>, sacred
trees had no small place as objects of authorized worship.
It is especially notable that the representatives of indigenous
race and religion in India, the Nagas, characterized by their
tutelary snakes issuing from their backs between their
shoulders and curving over their heads, and other tribes
actually drawn as human apes, are seen adoring the divine
tree in the midst of unquestionable Buddhist surroundings.[#]
Tree-worship, even now well marked among the indigenous
tribes of India, was obviously not abolished on the Buddhist
conversion. The new philosophic religion seems to have
amalgamated, as new religions ever do, with older native
thoughts and rites. And it is quite consistent with the
habits of the Buddhist theologians and hagiologists, that
when tree-worship was suppressed, they should have slurred
over the fact of its former prevalence, and should even
have used the recollection of it as a gibe against the hostile
Brahmans.

Conceptions like those of the lower races in character,
and rivalling them in vivacity, belong to the mythology
of Greece and Rome. The classic thought of the tree inhabited
by a deity and uttering oracles, is like that of
// File: 227.png
.pn +1
other regions. Thus the sacred palm of Negra in Yemen,
whose demon was propitiated by prayer and sacrifice to
give oracular response,[#] or the tall oaks inhabited by
the gods, where old Slavonic people used to ask questions
and hear the answers,[#] have their analogue in the prophetic
oak of Dodona, wherein dwelt the deity, <lang=grc>‘ναῖεν
δ’ ἐνὶ πυθμένι φηγοῦ.’</lang>[#] The Homeric hymn to Aphrodite
tells of the tree-nymphs, long-lived yet not immortal—they
grow with their high-topped leafy pines and oaks
upon the mountains, but when the lot of death draws nigh,
and the lovely trees are sapless, and the bark rots away
and the branches fall, then their spirits depart from the
light of the sun:—

.pm verse-start
<lang=grc>‘Νύμφαι μιν θρέψουσιν ὀρεσκῷοι βαθύκολποι,</lang>
<lang=grc>αἵ τόδε ναιετάυσιν ὄρος μέγα τε ζάθεόν τε·</lang>
<lang=grc>αἵ ῥ’ οὔτε θνητοῖς οὔτ’ ἀθανάτοισιν ἕπονται·</lang>
<lang=grc>δηρὸν μὲν ζώουσι καὶ ἄμβροτον εἷδαρ ἔδουσι,</lang>
<lang=grc>καί τε μετ’ ἀθανάτοισι καλὸν χορὸν ἐρρώσαντο.</lang>
<lang=grc>τῇσι δὲ Σειληνοί τε καὶ εὔσκοπος Ἀργειφόντης</lang>
<lang=grc>μίσγοντ’ ἐν φιλότητι μυχῷ σπείων ἐροέντων.</lang>
<lang=grc>τῇσι δ’ ἅμ’ ἢ ἐλάται ἠὲ δρύς ὑψικάρηνοι</lang>
<lang=grc>γεινομένῃσιν ἔφυσαν ἐπὶ χθονὶ βωτιανείρῃ,</lang>
<lang=grc>καλαί, τηλεθάουσαι, ἐν οὔρεσιν ὑψηλοῖσιν·</lang>

<lang=grc>ἀλλ’ ὅτε κεν δὴ μοῖρα παρεστήκῃ θανάτοιο,</lang>
<lang=grc>ἀζάνεται μὲν πρῶτον ἐπὶ χθονὶ δένδρεα καλά,</lang>
<lang=grc>φλοιὸς δ’ ἀμφιπεριφθινύθει, πίπτουσι δ’ ἄπ’ ὄζοι,</lang>
<lang=grc>τῶν δὲ θ’ ὁμοῦ ψυχὴ λείπει φαός ἠελίοιο.’</lang>[#]
.pm verse-end

The hamadryad’s life is bound to her tree, she is hurt
when it is wounded, she cries when the axe threatens, she
dies with the fallen trunk:—

.pm verse-start
<lang=la>‘Non sine hamadryadis fato cadit arborea trabs.’</lang>[#]
.pm verse-end

How personal a creature the tree-nymph was to the
classic mind, is shown in legends like that of Paraibios,
// File: 228.png
.pn +1
whose father, regardless of the hamadryad’s entreaties, cut
down her ancient trunk, and in himself and in his offspring
suffered her dire vengeance.[#] The ethnographic
student finds a curious interest in transformation-myths
like Ovid’s, keeping up as they do vestiges of philosophy
of archaic type—Daphne turned into the laurel that
Apollo honours for her sake, the sorrowing sisters of Phaethon
changing into trees, yet still dropping blood and
crying for mercy when their shoots are torn.[#] Such
episodes mediæval poetry could still adapt, as in the pathless
infernal forest whose knotted dusk-leaved trees revealed
their human animation to the Florentine when
he plucked a twig,

.pm verse-start
<lang=it>‘Allor porsi la mano un poco avante,</lang>
<lang=it>E colsi un ramoscel da un gran pruno:</lang>
<lang=it>E’ l tronco suo gridò: Perchè mi schiante?’</lang>[#]
.pm verse-end

or the myrtle to which Ruggiero tied his hippogriff, who
tugged at the poor trunk till it murmured and oped its
mouth, and with doleful voice told that it was Astolfo,
enchanted by the wicked Alcina among her other lovers,

.pm verse-start
<lang=it>‘D’ entrar o in fera o in fonte o in legno o in sasso.’</lang>[#]
.pm verse-end

If these seem to us now conceits over quaint for beauty,
we need not scruple to say so. They are not of Dante and
Ariosto, they are sham antiques from classic models. And
if even the classic originals have become unpleasing, we
need not perhaps reproach ourselves with decline of poetic
taste. We have lost something, and the loss has spoiled
our appreciation of many an old poetic theme, yet it is not
always our sense of the beautiful that has dwindled, but
the old animistic philosophy of nature that is gone from
us, dissipating from such fancies their meaning, and with
// File: 229.png
.pn +1
their meaning their loveliness. Still, if we look for living
men to whom trees are, as they were to our distant forefathers,
the habitations and embodiments of spirits, we
shall not look in vain. The peasant folklore of Europe
still knows of willows that bleed and weep and speak when
hewn, of the fairy maiden that sits within the fir-tree, of
that old tree in Rugaard forest that must not be felled, for
an elf dwells within, of that old tree on the Heinzenberg
near Zell, which uttered its complaint when the woodman
cut it down, for in it was Our Lady, whose chapel now
stands upon the spot.[#] One may still look on where Franconian
damsels go to a tree on <abbr=Saint>St.</abbr> Thomas’s Day, knock
thrice solemnly, and listen for the indwelling spirit to give
answer by raps from within, what manner of husbands they
are to have.[#]

In the remarkable document of mythic cosmogony, preserved
by Eusebius under the alleged authorship of the
Phœnician Sanchoniathon, is the following passage: ‘But
these first men consecrated the plants of the earth, and
judged them gods, and worshipped the things upon which
they themselves lived and their posterity, and all before
them, and (to these) they made libations and sacrifices.’[#]
From examples such as have been here reviewed, it seems
that direct and absolute tree-worship of this kind may indeed
lie very wide and deep in the early history of religion.
But the whole tree-cultus of the world must by no means
be thrown indiscriminately into this one category. It is
only on such distinct evidence as has been here put forward,
that a sacred tree may be taken as having a spirit embodied
in or attached to it. Beyond this limit, there is
a wider range of animistic conceptions connected with tree
and forest worship. The tree may be the spirit’s perch or
shelter or favourite haunt. Under this definition come the
// File: 230.png
.pn +1
trees hung with objects which are the receptacles of disease-spirits.
As places of spiritual resort, there is no real distinction
between the sacred tree and the sacred grove. The
tree may serve as a scaffold or altar, at once convenient
and conspicuous, where offerings can be set out for some
spiritual being, who may be a tree-spirit, or perhaps the
local deity, living there just as a man might do who had
his hut and owned his plot of land around. The shelter
of some single tree, or the solemn seclusion of a forest
grove, is a place of worship set apart by nature, of some
tribes the only temple, of many tribes perhaps the earliest.
Lastly, the tree may be merely a sacred object patronized
by or associated with or symbolizing some divinity, often
one of those which we shall presently notice as presiding
over a whole species of trees or other things. How all
these conceptions, from actual embodiment or local residence
or visit of a demon or deity, down to mere ideal
association, can blend together, how hard it often is to
distinguish them, and yet how in spite of this confusion
they conform to the animistic theology in which all
have their essential principles, a few examples will show
better than any theoretical comment.[#] Take the groups
of malicious wood-fiends so obviously devised to account
for the mysterious influences that beset the forest wanderer.
In the Australian bush, demons whistle in the
branches, and stooping with outstretched arms sneak
among the trunks to seize the wayfarer; the lame demon
leads astray the hunter in the Brazilian forest; the Karen
crossing a fever-haunted jungle shudders in the grip of the
spiteful ‘phi,’ and runs to lay an offering by the tree he
rested under last, from whose boughs the malaria-fiend
came down upon him; the negro of Senegambia seeks to
pacify the long-haired tree-demons that send diseases; the
terrific cry of the wood-demon is heard in the Finland
// File: 231.png
.pn +1
forest; the baleful shapes of terror that glide at night
through our own woodland are familiar still to peasant and
poet.[#] The North American Indians of the Far West,
entering the defiles of the Black Mountains of Nebraska,
will often hang offerings on the trees or place them on the
rocks, to propitiate the spirits and procure good weather
and hunting.[#] In South America, Mr. Darwin describes the
Indians offering their adorations by loud shouts when they
came in sight of the sacred tree standing solitary on a
high part of the Pampas, a landmark visible from afar. To
this tree were hanging by threads numberless offerings such
as cigars, bread, meat, pieces of cloth, &c., down to the mere
thread pulled from his poncho by the poor wayfarer who
had nothing better to give. Men would pour libations of
spirits and maté into a certain hole, and smoke upwards to
gratify Walleechu, and all around lay the bleached bones
of the horses slaughtered as sacrifices. All Indians made
their offerings here, that their horses might not tire, and
that they themselves might prosper. Mr. Darwin reasonably
judges on this evidence that it was to the deity Walleechu
that the worship was paid, the sacred tree being only
his altar; but he mentions that the Gauchos think the
Indians consider the tree as the god itself, a good example
of the misunderstanding possible in such cases.[#] The New
Zealanders would hang an offering of food or a lock of hair
on a branch at a landing place, or near remarkable rocks or
trees would throw a bunch of rushes as an offering to the
spirit dwelling there.[#] The Dayaks fasten rags of their
clothes on trees at cross roads, fearing for their health if
they neglect the custom;[#] the Macassar man halting to eat
in the forest will put a morsel of rice or fish on a leaf, and
lay it on a stone or stump.[#] The divinities of African tribes
// File: 232.png
.pn +1
may dwell in trees remarkable for size and age, or inhabit
sacred groves where the priest alone may enter.[#] Trees
treated as idols by the Congo people, who put calabashes of
palm wine at their feet in case they should be thirsty,[#] and
amongst West African negro tribes farther north, trees hung
with rags by the passers-by, and the great baobabs pegged
to hang offerings to, and serving as shrines before which
sheep are sacrificed,[#] display well the rites of tree sacrifice,
though leaving undefined the precise relation conceived
between deity and tree.

The forest theology that befits a race of hunters is
dominant still among Turanian tribes of Siberia, as of old
it was across to Lapland. Full well these tribes know the
gods of the forest. The Yakuts hang on any remarkably
fine tree iron, brass, and other trinkets; they choose a
green spot shaded by a tree for their spring sacrifice of
horses and oxen, whose heads are set up in the boughs;
they chant their extemporised songs to the Spirit of the
Forest, and hang for him on the branches of the trees along
the roadside offerings of horsehair, emblems of their most
valued possession. A clump of larches on a Siberian steppe,
a grove in the recesses of a forest, is the sanctuary of a
Turanian tribe. Gaily-decked idols in their warm fur-coats,
each set up beneath its great tree swathed with cloth or
tinplate, endless reindeer-hides and peltry hanging to the
trees around, kettles and spoons and snuff-horns and household
valuables strewn as offerings before the gods—such is
the description of a Siberian holy grove, at the stage when
the contact of foreign civilization has begun by ornamenting
the rude old ceremonial it must end by abolishing.[#] A
race ethnologically allied to these tribes, though risen to
higher culture, kept up remarkable relics of tree-worship in
Northern Europe. In Esthonian districts, during the last
// File: 233.png
.pn +1
century, the traveller might often see the sacred tree,
generally an ancient lime, oak, or ash, standing inviolate in
a sheltered spot near the dwelling-house, and old memories
are handed down of the time when the first blood of a
slaughtered beast was sprinkled on its roots, that the cattle
might prosper, or when an offering was laid beneath the
holy linden, on the stone where the worshipper knelt on his
bare knees, moving from east to west and back, which stone
he kissed thrice when he had said, ‘Receive the food as an
offering!’ It may well have been an indwelling tree-deity
for whom this worship was intended, for folklore shows that
the Esths recognized such a conception with the utmost
distinctness; they have a tale of the tree-elf who appeared
in personal shape outside his crooked birch-tree, whence
he could be summoned by three knocks on the trunk and
the inquiry, ‘Is the crooked one at home?’ But also it
may have been the Wood-Father or Tree-King, or some
other deity, who received sacrifice and answered prayer beneath
his sacred tree, as in a temple.[#] If, again, we glance
at the tree-and-grove worship of the non-Aryan indigenous
tribes of British India, we shall gather clear and instructive
hints of its inner significance. In the courtyard of a Bodo
house is planted the sacred ‘sij’ or euphorbia of Batho,
the national god, to whom under this representation the
‘deoshi’ or priest offers prayer and kills a pig.[#] When
the Khonds settle a new village, the sacred cotton-tree must
be planted with solemn rites, and beneath it is placed the
stone which enshrines the village deity.[#] Nowhere, perhaps,
in the world in these modern days is the original
meaning of the sacred grove more picturesquely shown than
among the Mundas of Chota-Nagpur, in whose settlements
a sacred grove of sal-trees, a remnant of the primæval forest
spared by the woodman’s axe, is left as a home for the
// File: 234.png
.pn +1
spirits, and in this hallowed place offerings to the gods are
made.[#]

Here, then, among the lower races, is surely evidence
enough to put on their true historic footing the rites of tree
and grove which are found flourishing or surviving within
the range of Semitic or Aryan culture. Mentions in the
Old Testament record the Canaanitish Ashera-worship, the
sacrifice under every green tree, the incense rising beneath
oak and willow and shady terebinth, rites whose obstinate
revival proves how deeply they were rooted in the old religion
of the land.[#] The evidence of these Biblical passages
is corroborated by other evidence from Semitic regions, as
in the lines by Silius Italicus which mention the prayer and
sacrifice in the Numidian holy groves, and the records of
the council of Carthage which show that in the 5th century,
an age after Augustine’s time, it was still needful to urge
that the relics of idolatry in trees and groves should be
done away.[#] From the more precise descriptions which lie
within the range of Aryan descent and influence, examples
may be drawn to illustrate every class of belief and rite of
the forest. Modern Hinduism is so largely derived from
the religions of the non-Aryan indigenes, that we may fairly
explain thus a considerable part of the tree-worship of
modern India, as where in the Birbhûm district of Bengal
a great annual pilgrimage is made to a shrine in a jungle,
to give offerings of rice and money and sacrifice animals to
a certain ghost who dwells in a bela-tree.[#] In thoroughly
Hindu districts may be seen the pippala (Ficus religiosa)
planted as the village tree, the ‘chaityataru’ of Sanskrit
// File: 235.png
.pn +1
literature, while the Hindu in private life plants the banyan
and other trees and worships them with divine honours.[#]
Greek and Roman mythology give perfect types not only of
the beings attached to individual trees, but of the dryads,
fauns, and satyrs living and roaming in the forest—creatures
whose analogues are our own elves and fairies of
the woods. Above these graceful fantastic beings are the
higher deities who have trees for shrines and groves for
temples. Witness the description in Ovid’s story of
Erisichthon:—

.pm verse-start
‘And Ceres’ grove he ravaged with the axe,
They say, and shame with iron the ancient glades.
There stood a mighty oak of age-long strength,
Festooned with garlands, bearing on its trunk
Memorial tablets, proofs of helpful vows.
Beneath, the dryads led their festive dance,
And circled hand-in-hand the giant bole.’[#]
.pm verse-end

In more prosaic fashion, Cato instructs the woodman
how to gain indemnity for thinning a holy grove; he must
offer a hog in sacrifice with this prayer, ‘Be thou god or
goddess to whom this grove is sacred, permit me, by the
expiation of this pig, and in order to restrain the overgrowth
of this wood, &c., &c.’[#] Slavonic lands had their
groves where burned the everlasting fire of Piorun the
Heaven-god; the old Prussians venerated the holy oak of
Romowe, with its drapery and images of the gods, standing
in the midst of the sacred inviolate forest where no twig
might be broken nor beast slain; and so on down to the
elder-tree beneath which Pushkait was worshipped with
offerings of bread and beer.[#] The Keltic Heaven-god,
whose image was a mighty oak, the white-robed Druids
climbing the sacred tree to cut the mistletoe, and sacrificing
// File: 236.png
.pn +1
the two white bulls beneath, are types from another national
group.[#] Teutonic descriptions begin with Tacitus, <lang=la>‘Lucos
ac nemora consecrant, deorumque nominibus adpellant
secretum illud, quod sola reverentia vident,’</lang> and the
curious passage which describes the Semnones entering
the sacred grove in bonds, a homage to the deity that dwelt
there; many a century after, the Swedes were still holding
solemn sacrifice and hanging the carcases of the
slaughtered beasts in the grove hard by the temple of
Upsal.[#] With Christianity comes a crusade against the
holy trees and groves. Boniface hews down in the presence
of the priest the huge oak of the Hessian Heaven-god,
and builds of the timber a chapel to <abbr=Saint>St.</abbr> Peter. Amator
expostulated with the hunters who hung the heads of wild
beasts to the boughs of the sacred pear-tree of Auxerre,
<lang=la>‘Hoc opus idololatriæ culturæ est, non christianæ elegantissimæ
disciplinæ;’</lang> but this mild persuasion not availing,
he chopped it down and burned it. In spite of all
such efforts, the old religion of the tree and grove survived
in Europe often in most pristine form. Within the
last two hundred years, there were old men in Gothland
who would ‘go to pray under a great tree, as their
forefathers had done in their time;’ and to this day the
sacrificial rite of pouring milk and beer over the roots
of trees is said to be kept up on out-of-the-way Swedish
farms.[#] In Russia, the Lyeshy or wood-demon still protects
the birds and beasts in his domain, and drives his
flocks of field-mice and squirrels from forest to forest,
when we should say they are migrating. The hunter’s
luck depends on his treatment of the forest-spirit, wherefore
he will leave him as a sacrifice the first game he
kills, or some smaller offering of bread or salted pancake
on a stump. Or if one falls ill on returning from the
forest, it is known that this is the Lyeshy’s doing, so
// File: 237.png
.pn +1
the patient carries to the wood some bread and salt in a
clean rag, and leaving it with a prayer, comes home cured.[#]
Names like <i>Holyoake</i> and <i>Holywood</i> record our own old
memories of the holy trees and groves, memories long
lingering in the tenacious peasant mind; and it was a great
and sacred <i>linden</i>-tree with three stems, standing in the
parish of Hvitaryd in South Sweden, which with curious
fitness gave a name to the family of <i>Linnæus</i>. Lastly,
Jakob Grimm even ventures to connect historically the
ancient sacred inviolate wood with the later royal forest, an
ethnological argument which would begin with the savage
adoring the Spirit of the Forest, and end with the modern
landowner preserving his pheasants.[#]

To the modern educated world, few phenomena of the
lower civilization seem more pitiable than the spectacle of
a man worshipping a beast. We have learnt the lessons of
Natural History at last thoroughly enough to recognize our
superiority to our ‘younger brothers,’ as the Red Indians
call them, the creatures whom it is our place not to adore
but to understand and use. By men at lower levels of culture,
however, the inferior animals are viewed with a very
different eye. For various motives, they have become objects
of veneration ranking among the most important in
the lower ranges of religion. Yet I must here speak shortly
and slightly of Animal-worship, not as wanting in interest,
but as over-abounding in difficulty. Wishing rather to
bring general principles into view than to mass uninterpreted
facts, all I can satisfactorily do is to give some select
examples from the various groups of evidence, so as at once
to display the more striking features of the subject, and to
trace the ancient ideas upward from the savage level far
into the higher civilization.

First and foremost, uncultured man seems capable of
simply worshipping a beast as beast, looking on it as possessed
of power, courage, cunning, beyond his own, and
// File: 238.png
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animated like a man by a soul which continues to exist after
bodily death, powerful as ever for good and harm. Then
this idea blends with the thought of the creature as being
an incarnate deity, seeing, hearing, and acting even at a
distance, and continuing its power after the death of the
animal body to which the divine spirit was attached. Thus
the Kamchadals, in their simple veneration of all things
that could do them harm or good, worshipped the whales
that could overturn their boats, and the bears and wolves
of whom they stood in fear. The beasts, they thought,
could understand their language, and therefore they abstained
from calling them by their names when they met
them, but propitiated them with certain appointed formulas.[#]
Tribes of Peru, says Garcilaso de la Vega, worshipped the
fish and vicuñas that provided them food, the monkeys for
their cunning, the sparrowhawks for their keen sight. The
tiger and the bear were to them ferocious deities, and mankind,
mere strangers and intruders in the land, might well
adore these beings, its old inhabitants and lords.[#] How,
indeed, can one wonder that in direct and simple awe, the
Philippine islanders, when they saw an alligator, should
have prayed him with great tenderness to do them no harm,
and to this end offered him of whatever they had in their
boats, casting it into the water.[#] Such rites display at
least a partial truth in the famous apophthegm which attributes
to fear the origin of religion: ‘Primos in orbe deos
fecit timor.’[#] In discussing the question of the souls of
animals in a previous chapter, instances were adduced of
men seeking to appease by apologetic phrase and rite the
animals they killed.[#] It is instructive to observe how
naturally such personal intercourse between man and animal
may pass into full worship, when the creature is powerful
// File: 239.png
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or dangerous enough to claim it. When the Stiêns of
Kambodia asked pardon of the beast they killed, and offered
sacrifice in expiation, they expressly did so through fear
lest the creature’s disembodied soul should come and torment
them.[#] Yet, strange to say, even the worship of the
animal as divine does not prevent the propitiatory ceremony
from passing into utter mockery. Thus Charlevoix describes
North American Indians who, when they had killed
a bear, would set up its head painted with many colours,
and offer it homage and praise while they performed the
painful duty of feasting on its body.[#] So among the Ainos,
the indigenes of Yesso, the bear is a great divinity. It
is true they slay him when they can, but while they are
cutting him up they salute him with obeisances and fair
speeches, and set up his head outside the house to preserve
them from misfortune.[#] In Siberia, the Yakuts worship
the bear in common with the spirits of the forest, bowing
toward his favourite haunts with appropriate phrases of
prose and verse, in praise of the bravery and generosity of
their ‘beloved uncle.’ Their kindred the Ostyaks swear
in the Russian courts of law on a bear’s head, for the bear,
they say, is all-knowing, and will slay them if they lie.
This idea actually serves the people as a philosophical,
though one would say rather superfluous, explanation of a
whole class of accidents: when a hunter is killed by a
bear, it is considered that he must at some time have forsworn
himself, and now has met his doom. Yet these
Ostyaks, when they have overcome and slain their deity,
will stuff its skin with hay, kick it, spit on it, insult and
mock it till they have satiated their hatred and revenge,
and are ready to set it up in a yurt as an object of
worship.[#]

Whether an animal be worshipped as the receptacle or
// File: 240.png
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incarnation of an indwelling divine soul or other deity, or
as one of the myriad representatives of the presiding god
of its class, the case is included under and explained by the
general theory of fetish-worship already discussed. Evidence
which displays these two conceptions and their blending
is singularly perfect in the islands of the Pacific. In the
Georgian group, certain herons, kingfishers, and woodpeckers
were held sacred and fed on the sacrifices, with the distinct
view that the deities were embodied in the birds, and in this
form came to eat the offered food and give the oracular responses
by their cries.[#] The Tongans never killed certain
birds, or the shark, whale, &c., as being sacred shrines in
which gods were in the habit of visiting earth; and if they
chanced in sailing to pass near a whale they would offer
scented oil or kava to him.[#] In the Fiji Islands, certain
birds, fish, plants, and some men, were supposed to have
deities closely connected with or residing in them. Thus
the hawk, fowl, eel, shark, and nearly every other animal
became the shrine of some deity, which the worshipper of
that deity might not eat, so that some were even tabued
from eating human flesh, the shrine of their god being a
man. Ndengei, the dull and otiose supreme deity, had his
shrine or incarnation in the serpent.[#] Every Samoan
islander had his tutelary deity or ‘aitu,’ appearing in
some animal, an eel, shark, dog, turtle, &c., which species
became his fetish, not to be slighted or injured or eaten,
an offence which the deity would avenge by entering the
sinner’s body and generating his proper incarnation within
him till he died.[#] The ‘atua’ of the New Zealander, corresponding
with this in name, is a divine ancestral soul, and
is also apt to appear in the body of an animal.[#] If we pass
to Sumatra, we shall find that the veneration paid by the
Malays to the tiger, and their habit of apologizing to it
// File: 241.png
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when a trap is laid, is connected with the idea of tigers
being animated by the souls of departed men.[#] In other
districts of the world, one of the most important cases
connected with these is the worship paid by the North
American Indian to his medicine-animal, of which he kills
one specimen to preserve its skin, which thenceforth receives
adoration and grants protection as a fetish.[#] In
South Africa, as has been already mentioned, the Zulus
hold that divine ancestral shades are embodied in certain
tame and harmless snakes, whom their human kinsfolk
receive with kindly respect and propitiate with food.[#] In
West Africa, monkeys near a grave-yard are supposed to
be animated by the spirits of the dead, and the general
theory of sacred and worshipped crocodiles, snakes, birds,
bats, elephants, hyænas, leopards, &c., is divided between
the two great departments of the fetish-theory, in some
cases the creature being the actual embodiment or personation
of the spirit, and in other cases sacred to it or
under its protection.[#] Hardly any region of the world
displays so perfectly as this the worship of serpents as
fetish-animals endowed with high spiritual qualities, to kill
one of whom would be an offence unpardonable. For a
single description of negro ophiolatry, may be cited Bosman’s
description from Whydah in the Bight of Benin;
here the highest order of deities were a kind of snakes
which swarm in the villages, reigned over by that huge
chief monster, uppermost and greatest and as it were the
grandfather of all, who dwelt in his snake-house beneath a
lofty tree, and there received the royal offerings of meat
and drink, cattle and money and stuffs. So heartfelt was
the veneration of the snakes, that the Dutchmen made it a
// File: 242.png
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means of clearing their warehouses of tiresome visitors; as
Bosman says, ‘If we are ever tired with the natives of this
country, and would fain be rid of them, we need only speak
ill of the snake, at which they immediately stop their ears
and run out of doors.’[#] Lastly, among the Tatar tribes
of Siberia, Castrén finds the explanation of the veneration
which the nomade pays to certain animals, in a distinct
fetish-theory which he thus sums up: ‘Can he also contrive
to propitiate the snake, bear, wolf, swan, and various
other birds of the air and beasts of the field, he has in them
good protectors, for in them are hidden mighty spirits.’[#]

In the lower levels of civilization the social institution
known as Totemism is of frequent occurrence. Its anthropological
importance was especially brought into notice by
<abbr rend=spell>J. F.</abbr> McLennan, whose views as to an early totem-period of
society have much influenced opinion since his time.[#] The
totemic tribe is divided into clans, the members of each
clan connecting themselves with, calling themselves by the
name of, and even deriving their mythic pedigree from some
animal, plant, or thing, but most often an animal; these
totem-clans are exogamous, marriage not being permissible
within the clan, while permissible or obligatory between
clan and clan. Thus among the Ojibwa Indians of North
America, the names of such clan-animals, Bear, Wolf,
Tortoise, Deer, Rabbit, &c., served to designate the intermarrying
clans into which the tribes were divided, Indians
being actually spoken of as bears, wolves, &c., and the
figures of these animals indicating their clans in the native
picture-writing. The Ojibwa word for such a clan-name
has passed into English in the form ‘totem,’ and thus has
become an accepted term among anthropologists to denote
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similar clan-names customary over the world, this system
of dividing tribes being called Totemism. Unfortunately
for the study of the subject, John Long, the trader interpreter
who introduced the Ojibwa word totem into Europe
in 1791, does not seem to have grasped its meaning in the
native law of marriage and clanship, but to have confused
the totem-animal of the clan with the patron or guardian
animal of the individual hunter, his manitu or ‘medicine.’[#]
Even when the North American totem-clans came to be
better understood as social institutions regulating marriage,
the notion of the guardian spirit still clung to them. Sir
George Grey, who knew of the American totem-clans from
the ‘Archæologia Americana,’ put on record in 1841 a list
of exogamous classes in West Australia, and mentioned the
opinion frequently given by the natives as to the origin of
these class-names, that they were derived from some animal
or vegetable being very common in the district which the
family inhabited, so that the name of this animal or
vegetable came to be applied to the family. This seems
so far valuable evidence, but Grey was evidently led by
John Long’s mistaken statement, which he quotes, to fall
himself into the same confusion between the tribal name
and the patron animal or vegetable, the ‘kobong’ of his
natives, which he regarded as a tribal totem.[#] In Mr. <abbr rend=spell>J. G.</abbr>
Frazer’s valuable collection of information on totemism,[#]
the use of the self-contradictory term ‘individual totem’
has unfortunately tended to perpetuate this confusion. In
the present state of the problem of totemism, it would be
premature to discuss at length its development and purpose.
Mention may however be made of observations
which tend to place it on a new footing, as being distinctly
related to the transmigration of souls. In Melanesia men
// File: 244.png
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may say that after death they will reappear for instance as
sharks or bananas, and the family will acknowledge the
kinship by feeding the sharks and abstaining from the
bananas. It is not unreasonable that Dr. Codrington should
suggest such practices as throwing light on the origin of
totemism.[#] The late investigations of Spencer and Gillen,
conducted with scrupulous care in an almost untouched
district of Central Australia, show totemism in the Arunta
tribe, not as the means of regulating the intermarriage of
clans, but as based on a native theory of the ancestry of
the race, as descended from the Alcheringa, quasi-human
animal or vegetable ancestors, whose souls are still reborn
in human form in successive generations.[#] This careful and
definite account may be the starting-point of a new study.
Savages would be alive to the absurdity of naming clans
after animals in order to indicate a prohibition of marrying-in,
opposed to the habit of the animals themselves. Indeed,
it seems more likely that such animal-names may have commonly
belonged to inbred clans, before the rule of exogamy
was developed. At present the plainest fact as to Totemism
is its historical position as shown by its immense geographical
distribution. Its presence in North America and Australia has
been noticed. It extends its organization through the forest-region
of South America from Guyana to Patagonia. Northward
of Australia it is to be traced among the more unchanged
of the Malay populations, who underneath foreign
influence still keep remains of a totemic system like that of
the American tribes. Thence we follow the totem-clan into
India, when it appears among non-Aryan hill-tribes such as
the Oraons and Mundas, who have clans named after Eel,
Hawk, Heron, and so on, and must not kill or eat these
creatures. North of the Himalaya it appears among Mongoloid
tribes in their native low cultured state, such as the
Yakuts with their intermarrying totem-clans Swan, Raven,
// File: 245.png
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and the like. In Africa totemism appears in the Bantu
district up to the West Coast. For example, the Bechuana
are divided into Bakuena, men of the crocodile; Batlapi, of
the fish; Balaung, of the lion; Bamorara, of the wild vine.
A man does not eat his tribe-animal, or clothe himself in its
skin, and if he must kill it as hurtful, the lion for instance,
he asks pardon of it, and purifies himself from the sacrilege.
These few instances illustrate the generalization that
totemism in its complete form belongs to the savage and
early barbaric stages of culture, only partial remains or
survivals of it having lasted into the civilized period.
Though appearing in all other quarters of the globe, it is
interesting to notice that there is no distinct case of
totemism found or recorded in Europe.[#]

The three motives of animal-worship which have been
described, viz., direct worship of the animal for itself, indirect
worship of it as a fetish acted through by a deity,
and veneration for it as a totem or representative of a tribe-ancestor,
no doubt account in no small measure for the
phenomena of Zoolatry among the lower races, due allowance
being also made for the effects of myth and symbolism,
of which we may gain frequent glimpses. Notwithstanding
the obscurity and complexity of the subject, a survey of
Animal-worship as a whole may yet justify an ethnographic
view of its place in the history of civilization. If we turn
from its appearances among the less cultured races to notice
the shapes in which it has held its place among peoples
advanced to the stage of national organization and stereotyped
religion, we shall find a reasonable cause for its new
position in the theory of development and survival, whereby
ideas at first belonging to savage theology have in part continued
to spread and solidify in their original manner, while in
part they have been changed to accommodate them to more
advanced ideas, or have been defended from the attacks of
reason by being set up as sacred mysteries. Ancient Egypt
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was a land of sacred cats and jackals and hawks, whose
mummies are among us to this day, but the reason of whose
worship was a subject too sacred for the Father of History
to discuss. Egyptian animal-worship seems to show, in a
double line, traces of a savage ancestry extending into ages
lying far behind even the remote antiquity of the Pyramids.
Deities patronising special sacred animals, incarnate in
their bodies, or represented in their figures, have nowhere
better examples than the divine bull-dynasty of Apis,
the sacred hawks caged and fed in the temple of Horus,
Thoth and his cynocephalus and ibis, Hathor the cow
and Sebek the crocodile. Moreover, the local character
of many of the sacred creatures, worshipped in certain
nomes yet killed and eaten with impunity elsewhere,
fits remarkably with that character of tribe-fetishes and
deified totems with which Mr. McLennan’s argument is
concerned. See the men of Oxyrynchos reverencing and
sparing the fish oxyrynchos, and those of Latopolis likewise
worshipping the latos. At Apollinopolis men hated
crocodiles and never lost a chance of killing them, while
the people of the Arsinoite nome dressed geese and fish for
these sacred creatures, adorned them with necklaces and
bracelets, and mummified them sumptuously when they
died.[#] In the modern world the most civilized people
among whom animal-worship vigorously survives, lie within
the range of Brahmanism, where the sacred animal, the
deity incarnate in an animal or invested with or symbolized
by its shape, may to this day be studied in clear example.
The sacred cow is not merely to be spared, she is as a deity
worshipped in annual ceremony, daily perambulated and
bowed to by the pious Hindu, who offers her fresh grass
and flowers; Hanuman the monkey-god has his temples
and his idols, and in him Siva is incarnate, as Durga is in
the jackal; the wise Ganesa wears the elephant’s head;
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the divine king of birds, Garuda, is Vishnu’s vehicle; the
forms of fish, and boar, and tortoise, were assumed in
those avatar-legends of Vishnu which are at the intellectual
level of the Red Indian myths they so curiously resemble.[#]
The conceptions which underlie the Hindu creed of divine
animals were not ill displayed by that Hindu who, being
shown the pictures of Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John
with their respective man, lion, ox, and eagle, explained
these quite naturally and satisfactorily as the avatars or
vehicles of the four evangelists.

In Animal-worship, some of the most remarkable cases
of development and survival belong to a class from which
striking instances have already been taken. Serpent-worship
unfortunately fell years ago into the hands of speculative
writers, who mixed it up with occult philosophies,
Druidical mysteries, and that portentous nonsense called
the ‘Arkite Symbolism,’ till now sober students hear the
very name of Ophiolatry with a shiver. Yet it is in itself
a rational and instructive subject of inquiry, especially
notable for its width of range in mythology and religion.
We may set out among the lower races, with such accounts
as those of the Red Indian’s reverence to the rattlesnake,
as grandfather and king of snakes, as a divine protector
able to give fair winds or cause tempests;[#] or of the worship
of great snakes among the tribes of Peru before they
received the religion of the Incas, as to whom an old author
says, ‘They adore the demon when he presents himself to
them in the figure of some beast or serpent, and talks with
them.’[#] Thenceforth such examples of direct Ophiolatry
may be traced on into classic and barbaric Europe; the
great serpent which defended the citadel of Athens and
enjoyed its monthly honey-cakes;[#] the Roman genius loci
appearing in the form of the snake (<lang=la>Nullus enim locus sine
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genio est, qui per anguem plerumque ostenditur)</lang>;[#] the old
Prussian serpent-worship and offering of food to the
household snakes;[#] the golden viper adored by the Lombards,
till Barbatus got it in his hands and the goldsmiths
made it into paten and chalice.[#] To this day, Europe has
not forgotten in nursery tales or more serious belief the
snake that comes with its golden crown and drinks milk out
of the child’s porringer; the house-snake, tame and kindly
but seldom seen, that cares for the cows and the children
and gives omens of a death in the family; the pair of
household snakes which have a mystic connexion of life
and death with the husband and housewife themselves.[#]
Serpent-worship, apparently of the directest sort, was prominent
in the indigenous religions of Southern Asia. It
now even appears to have maintained no mean place in
early Indian Buddhism, for the sculptures of the Sanchi
tope show scenes of adoration of the five-headed snake-deity
in his temple, performed by a race of serpent-worshippers,
figuratively represented with snakes growing from
their shoulders, and whose raja himself has a five-headed
snake arching hood-wise over his head. Here, moreover,
the totem-theory comes into contact with ophiolatry. The
Sanskrit name of the snake, <lang=sa>‘nâga,’</lang> becomes also the
accepted designation of its adorers, and thus mythological
interpretation has to reduce to reasonable sense legends of
serpent-races who turn out to be simply serpent-worshippers,
tribes who have from the divine reptiles at once their
generic name of Nâgas, and with it their imagined ancestral
descent from serpents.[#] In different ways, these Nâga
tribes of South Asia are on the one hand analogues of the
// File: 249.png
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Snake Indians of America, and on the other of the Ophiogenes
or Serpent-race of the Troad, kindred of the vipers
whose bite they could cure by touch, and descendants of an
ancient hero transformed into a snake.[#]

Serpents hold a prominent place in the religions of the
world, as the incarnations, shrines, or symbols of high
deities. Such were the rattlesnake worshipped in the
Natchez temple of the Sun, and the snake belonging in
name and figure to the Aztec deity Quetzalcoatl;[#] the
snake as worshipped still by the Slave Coast negro, not for
itself but for its indwelling deity;[#] the snake kept and fed
with milk in the temple of the old Slavonic god Potrimpos;[#]
the serpent-symbol of the healing deity Asklepios, who
abode in or manifested himself through the huge tame
snakes kept in his temples[#] (it is doubtful whether this had
any original connexion with the adoption of the snake, from
its renewal by casting its old slough, as the accepted emblem
of new life or immortality in later symbolism); and lastly,
the Phœnician serpent with its tail in its mouth, symbol of
the world and of the Heaven-god Taaut, in its original
meaning perhaps a mythic world-snake like the Scandinavian
Midgard-worm, but in the changed fancy of later ages
adapted into an emblem of eternity.[#] It scarcely seems
proved that savage races, in all their mystic contemplations
of the serpent, ever developed out of their own minds the
idea, to us so familiar, of adopting it as a personification of
evil.[#] In ancient times, we may ascribe this character perhaps
to the monster whose well-known form is to be seen
on the mummy-cases, the Apophis-serpent of the Egyptian
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Hades;[#] and it unequivocally belongs to the destroying serpent
of the Zarathustrians, Azhi Dahâka,[#] a figure which
bears so remarkable a relation to that of the Semitic serpent
of Eden, which may possibly stand in historical connexion
with it. A wondrous blending of the ancient rites of Ophiolatry
with mystic conceptions of Gnosticism appears in the
cultus which tradition (in truth or slander) declares the semi-Christian
sect of Ophites to have rendered to their tame
snake, enticing it out of its chest to coil round the sacramental
bread, and worshipping it as representing the great
king from heaven who in the beginning gave to the man
and woman the knowledge of the mysteries.[#] Thus the
extreme types of religious veneration, from the soberest
matter-of-fact to the dreamiest mysticism, find their places
in the worship of animals.[#]

Hitherto in the study of animistic doctrine, our attention
has been turned especially to those minor spirits whose
functions concern the closer and narrower detail of man’s
life and its surroundings. In passing thence to the consideration
of divine beings whose functions have a wider
scope, the transition may be well made through a special
group. An acute remark of Auguste Comte’s calls attention
to an important process of theological thought, which we
may here endeavour to bring as clearly as possible before
our minds. In his ‘Philosophie Positive,’ he defines deities
proper as differing by their general and abstract character
from pure fetishes (i.e., animated objects), the humble
fetish governing but a single object from which it is
inseparable, while the gods administer a special order
of phenomena at once in different bodies. When, he continues,
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the similar vegetation of the different oaks of a
forest led to a theological generalization from their common
phenomena, the abstract being thus produced was no longer
the fetish of a single tree, but became the god of the forest;
here, then, is the intellectual passage from fetishism to
polytheism, reduced to the inevitable preponderance of
specific over individual ideas.[#] Now this observation of
Comte’s may be more immediately applied to a class of
divine beings which may be accurately called species-deities.
It is highly suggestive to study the crude attempts of barbaric
theology to account for the uniformity observed in
large classes of objects, by making this generalization from
individual to specific ideas. To explain the existence of
what we call a species, they would refer it to a common
ancestral stock, or to an original archetype, or to a species-deity,
or they combined these conceptions. For such speculations,
classes of plants and animals offered perhaps an
early and certainly an easy subject. The uniformity of each
kind not only suggested a common parentage, but also the
notion that creatures so wanting in individuality, with
qualities so measured out as it were by line and rule, might
not be independent arbitrary agents, but mere copies from
a common model, or mere instruments used by controlling
deities. Thus in Polynesia, as has been just mentioned,
certain species of animals were considered as incarnations
of certain deities, and among the Samoans it appears that
the question as to the individuality of such creatures was
actually asked and answered. If, for instance, a village
god were accustomed to appear as an owl, and one of his
votaries found a dead owl by the roadside, he would mourn
over the sacred bird and bury it with much ceremony, but
the god himself would not be thought to be dead, for he
remains incarnate in all existing owls.[#] According to
Father Geronimo Boscana, the Acagchemen tribe of Upper
California furnish a curious parallel to this notion. They
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worshipped the ‘panes’ bird, which seems to have been
an eagle or vulture, and each year, in the temple of each
village, one of them was solemnly killed without shedding
blood, and the body burned. Yet the natives maintained
and believed that it was the same individual bird they sacrificed
each year, and more than this, that the same bird was
slain by each of the villages.[#] Among the comparatively
cultured Peruvians, Acosta describes another theory of
celestial archetypes. Speaking of star-deities, he says that
shepherds venerated a certain star called Sheep, another
star called Tiger protected men from tigers, &c.: ‘And
generally, of all the animals and birds there are on the
earth, they believed that a like one lived in heaven, in whose
charge were their procreation and increase, and thus they
accounted of divers stars, such as that they call Chacana,
and Topatorca, and Mamana, and Mizco, and Miquiquiray,
and other such, so that in a manner it appears that they
were drawing towards the dogma of the Platonic ideas.’[#]
The North American Indians also have speculated as to the
common ancestors or deities of species. One missionary
notes down their idea as he found it in 1634. ‘They say,
moreover, that all the animals of each species have an elder
brother, who is as it were the principle and origin of all the
individuals, and this elder brother is marvellously great and
powerful. The elder brother of the beavers, they told me,
is perhaps as large as our cabin.’ Another early account
is that each species of animals has its archetype in the land
of souls; there exists, for example, a manitu or archetype
of all oxen, which animates all oxen.[#] Here, again, occurs
a noteworthy correspondence with the ideas of a distant
race. In Buyán, the island paradise of Russian myth, there
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are to be found the Snake older than all snakes, and the
prophetic Raven, elder brother of all ravens, and the Bird,
the largest and oldest of all birds, with iron beak and
copper claws, and the Mother of Bees, eldest among bees.[#]
Morgan’s comparatively modern account of the Iroquois
mentions their belief in a spirit of each species of trees
and plants, as of oak, hemlock, maple, whortleberry, raspberry,
spearmint, tobacco; most objects of nature being
thus under the care of protecting spirits.[#] The doctrine of
such species-deities is perhaps nowhere more definitely
stated than by Castrén in his ‘Finnish Mythology.’ In
his description of the Siberian nature-worship, the lowest
level is exemplified by the Samoyeds, whose direct worship
of natural objects for themselves may perhaps indicate the
original religious condition of the whole Turanian race.
But the doctrine of the comparatively cultured heathen
Finns was at a different stage. Here every object in nature
has a ‘haltia,’ a guardian deity or genius, a being which
was its creator and thenceforth became attached to it.
These deities or genii are, however, not bound to each
single transitory object, but are free personal beings which
have movement, form, body, and soul. Their existence in
no wise depends on the existence of the individual objects,
for although no object in nature is without its guardian
deity, this deity extends to the whole race or species. This
ash-tree, this stone, this house, has indeed its particular
‘haltia,’ yet these same ‘haltiat’ concern themselves with
other ash-trees, stones, and houses, of which the individuals
may perish, but their presiding genii live on in the
species.[#] It seems as though some similar view ran through
the doctrine of more civilized races, as in the well-known
// File: 254.png
.pn +1
Egyptian and Greek examples where whole species of animals,
plants, or things, stand as symbolic of, and as protected
by, particular deities. The thought appears with
most perfect clearness in the Rabbinical philosophy which
apportions to each of the 2100 species, of plants for instance,
a presiding angel in heaven, and assigns this as the
motive of the Levitical prohibition of mixtures among animals
and plants.[#] The interesting likeness pointed out by
Father Acosta between these crude theological conceptions
and the civilized philosophical conceptions which have replaced
them, was again brought into view in the last century
by the President De Brosses, in comparing the Red Indians’
archetypes of species with the Platonic archetypal ideas.[#]
As for animals and plants, the desire of naturalists to ascend
to primal unity to some extent finds satisfaction in a theory
tracing each species to an origin in a single pair. And
though this is out of the question with inanimate objects,
our language seems in suggestive metaphor to lay hold on
the same thought, when we say of a dozen similar swords,
or garments, or chairs, that they have the same <i>pattern</i>
(patronus, as it were father), whereby they were shaped
from their <i>matter</i> (materia, or mother substance).

.fn #
<abbr rend=spell>F. R.</abbr> Nixon, ‘Cruise of the Beacon’; Bonwick, <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 182.
.fn-
.fn #
Oldfield in ‘Tr. Eth. Soc.’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=three>iii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 228.
.fn-
.fn #
Schoolcraft, ‘Algic Res.’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 41. ‘Indian Tribes,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=three>iii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 327.
Waitz, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=three>iii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 191. See also <abbr rend=spell>J. G.</abbr> Müller, <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 175. (Antilles Islanders);
Brasseur, ‘Mexique,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=three>iii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 482.
.fn-
.fn #
Macpherson, ‘India,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 90. See also Cross, ‘Karens,’ in ‘Journ. Amer.
Or. Soc.’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=four>iv.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 315; Williams, ‘Fiji,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 239.
.fn-
.fn #
Castrén, ‘Finn. Myth.’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 114, 182, &c.
.fn-
.fn #
<abbr rend=spell>J. L.</abbr> Wilson, ‘<abbr=West>W.</abbr> <abbr=Africa>Afr.</abbr>’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 218, 388; Waitz, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 171.
.fn-
.fn #
Philo, De Gigant. <abbr rend=spell>I.</abbr> <abbr=four>iv.</abbr>
.fn-
.fn #
Iamblichus, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr>
.fn-
.fn #
Collected passages in Calmet, ‘Diss. sur les Esprits’; Horst, <lang=de>‘Zauber-Bibliothek,’</lang>
<abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 263, &c.; <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=six>vi.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 49, &c.; see Migne’s Dictionaries.
.fn-
.fn #
Calmet, <lang=fr>‘Dissertation sur les Esprits,’</lang> <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=chapter>ch.</abbr> <abbr='forty-eight'>xlviii.</abbr>
.fn-
.fn #
Gaume, <lang=fr>‘L’Eau Bénite au <abbr rend=spell>XIXme</abbr> Siècle,’</lang> <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 295, 341.
.fn-
.fn #
Ellis, ‘Polyn. Res.’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 331.
.fn-
.fn #
Backhouse, ‘Australia,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 555; Grey, ‘Australia,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 337.
.fn-
.fn #
Mason, ‘Karens,’ <abbr rend=spell>l.c.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 211.
.fn-
.fn #
Schoolcraft, ‘Indian Tribes,’ part <abbr=three>iii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 226.
.fn-
.fn #
Rochefort, ‘Antilles,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 419.
.fn-
.fn #
Grimm, ‘<abbr rend=spell>D. M.</abbr>’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 1193; Hanusch, ‘Slaw. Myth.’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 332; <abbr=Saint>St.</abbr> Clair
and Brophy, ‘Bulgaria,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 59; Wuttke, <lang=de>‘Volksaberglaube,’</lang> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 122; Bastian,
‘Psychologie,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 103; Brand, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=three>iii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 279. The <i>mare</i> in <i>nightmare</i>
means spirit, elf, or nymph; compare Anglo-Sax. <i>wudumære</i> (wood-mare) = echo.
.fn-
.fn #
‘Vita del Amm. Christoforo Colombo,’ <abbr=chapter>ch.</abbr> <abbr=thirteen>xiii.</abbr>; and ‘Life of Colon,’ in
Pinkerton, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=twelve>xii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 84.
.fn-
.fn #
Taylor, ‘New Zealand,’ <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 149, 389. Mariner, ‘Tonga Is.’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr>
<abbr=page>p.</abbr> 119.
.fn-
.fn #
Högström, ‘Lapmark,’ <abbr=chapter>ch.</abbr> <abbr=eleven>xi.</abbr>
.fn-
.fn #
Ward, ‘Hindoos,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 151. See also Borri, ‘Cochin-China,’ in
Pinkerton, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=nine>ix.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 823.
.fn-
.fn #
Augustin. <lang=la>‘De Civ. Dei,’</lang> <abbr=fifteen>xv.</abbr> 23: <lang=la>‘Et quoniam creberrima fama est,
multique se expertos, vel ab eis qui experti essent, de quorum fide dubitandum
non esset, audisse confirmant, Silvanos et Faunos, quos vulgo incubos
vocant, improbos sæpe extitisse mulieribus, et earum appetisse ac peregisse
concubitum; et quosdam dæmones, quos Dusios Galli nuncupant, hanc
assidue immunditiam et tentare et efficere; plures talesque asseverant, ut
hoc negare impudentiæ videatur; non hinc aliquid audeo definire, utrum
aliqui spiritus ... possint etiam hanc pati libidinem; ut ... sentientibus
feminibus misceantur.’</lang> See also Grimm, ‘<abbr rend=spell>D. M.</abbr>’ <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 449, 479;
Hanusch, ‘Slaw. Myth.’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 332; Cockayne, ‘Leechdoms of Early England,’
<abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> <abbr='thirty-eight'>xxxviii.</abbr>, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 345.
.fn-
.fn #
The ‘Malleus Maleficarum’ was published about 1489. See on the
general subject, Horst, ‘Zauber-Bibliothek,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=six>vi.</abbr>; Ennemoser, ‘Magic,’
<abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr>; Maury, ‘Magie,’ &c. <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 256; Lecky, ‘Hist, of Rationalism,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr>
.fn-
.fn #
Burton, ‘Anatomy of Melancholy,’ <abbr=three>iii.</abbr> 2. <lang=la>‘Unum dixero, non opinari
me ullo retro ævo tantam copiam Satyrorum, et salacium istorum Geniorum
se ostendisse, quantum nunc quotidianæ narrationes, et judiciales sententiæ
proferunt.’</lang>
.fn-
.fn #
<abbr rend=spell>J. R.</abbr> Forster, ‘Observations during Voyage round World,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 543.
.fn-
.fn #
Cross, ‘Karens,’ <abbr rend=spell>l.c.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 312.
.fn-
.fn #
‘Journ. Ind. Archip.’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 307.
.fn-
.fn #
<abbr rend=spell>J. V.</abbr> Grohmann, <lang=de>‘Aberglauben aus Böhmen,’</lang> &c., <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 24; Calmet, <lang=fr>‘Diss.
sur les Esprits,’</lang> <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr>; Grimm, ‘<abbr rend=spell>D. M.</abbr>’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 1048, &c.; <abbr=Saint>St.</abbr> Clair and Brophy,
‘Bulgaria,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 49; see Ralston, ‘Songs of Russian People,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 409.
.fn-
.fn #
Cranz, ‘Grönland,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 268. Callaway, ‘Rel. of Amazulu,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 246, &c.
.fn-
.fn #
Grey, ‘Australia,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 302. See also Bonwick, ‘Tasmanians,’
<abbr=page>p.</abbr> 180.
.fn-
.fn #
Southey, ‘Brazil,’ part <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 238. See also Rochefort, <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 418; <abbr rend=spell>J. G.</abbr>
Müller, <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 273 (Caribs); Cranz, ‘Grönland,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 301; Schoolcraft, ‘Indian
Tribes,’ part <abbr=three>iii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 140.
.fn-
.fn #
‘Journ. Ind. Archip.’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 270, 298; <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> ‘<abbr rend=spell>N. S.</abbr>’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 117.
.fn-
.fn #
Roberts, ‘Oriental Illustrations,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 531; Colebrook in ‘As. Res.’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr>
<abbr=seven>vii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 274.
.fn-
.fn #
Doolittle, ‘Chinese,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 77.
.fn-
.fn #
Hylten-Cavallius, ‘Wärend och Wirdarne,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 191; Atkinson,
‘Glossary of Cleveland Dial.’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 597. (Prof. Liebrecht, in <lang=de>‘Zeitschrift
für Ethnologie,’</lang> <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=five>v.</abbr> 1873, <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 99, adds comparison of the still usual
German custom of keeping a light burning in the lying-in room till
the child is baptized (Wuttke, <abbr=second>2nd</abbr> <abbr=edition>ed.</abbr> <abbr=Number>No.</abbr> 583), and the similar ancient
Roman practice whence the goddess Candelifera had her name (note to
<abbr=second>2nd</abbr>. <abbr=edition>ed.</abbr>).)
.fn-
.fn #
Martin, ‘Western Islands,’ in Pinkerton, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=three>iii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 612.
.fn-
.fn #
<abbr=Saint>St.</abbr> Clair and Brophy, ‘Bulgaria,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 44.
.fn-
.fn #
<lang=la>Rituale Romanum; Benedictio Candelarum.</lang> Brand, ‘Popular Antiquities,’
<abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 46.
.fn-
.fn #
Cranz, ‘Grönland,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 267, see 296.
.fn-
.fn #
Macpherson, ‘India,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 100.
.fn-
.fn #
Homer, <abbr=Odyssey>Odyss</abbr>, <abbr=sixteen>xvi.</abbr> 160.
.fn-
.fn #
Grimm, ‘<abbr rend=spell>D. M.</abbr>’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 632.
.fn-
.fn #
Eisenmenger, ‘Judenthum,’ part <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 872. Lane, ‘Thousand and One
Nights,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 56.
.fn-
.fn #
Bastian, ‘Psychologie,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 162. Other localities in ‘Journ. Ind. Archip.’
<abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=four>iv.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 333.
.fn-
.fn #
Tickell in ‘Journ. As. Soc. Bengal,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=nine>ix.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 795. The dirge is given
above, <abbr=page>p.</abbr> #32#.
.fn-
.fn #
De Brosses, <lang=fr>‘Dieux Fétiches,’</lang> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 46.
.fn-
.fn #
Clavigero, ‘Messico,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 79.
.fn-
.fn #
Tractat. Berachoth.
.fn-
.fn #
Grimm, ‘<abbr rend=spell>D. M.</abbr>’ <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 420, 1117; <abbr=Saint>St.</abbr> Clair and Brophy, ‘Bulgaria,’
<abbr=page>p.</abbr> 54. See also Bastian, ‘Mensch,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 325; Tschudi, ‘Peru,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr>
<abbr=page>p.</abbr> 355.
.fn-
.fn #
Brand, ‘Popular Antiquities,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 193. See Boecler, ‘Ehsten
Abergl.’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 73.
.fn-
.fn #
Tertullian, <lang=la>De Carne Christi</lang>, <abbr=six>vi.</abbr>; Adv. Marcion, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr>; Origen, De Princip.
<abbr=one>i.</abbr> 7. See Horst, <abbr rend=spell>l.c.</abbr> Calmet, ‘Dissertation,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=chapter>ch.</abbr> <abbr='forty-six'>xlvi.</abbr>
.fn-
.fn #
<abbr rend=spell>J. L.</abbr> Wilson, ‘<abbr=West>W.</abbr> <abbr=Africa>Afr.</abbr>’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 217. See Bosman, ‘Guinea,’ in Pinkerton,
<abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=sixteen>xvi.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 402.
.fn-
.fn #
Pallas, ‘Reisen,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 360.
.fn-
.fn #
Grimm, ‘<abbr rend=spell>D. M.</abbr>’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 1212; Wuttke, <lang=de>‘Volksaberglaube,’</lang> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 119; see
Hyltén-Cavallius, part <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 178 (Sweden).
.fn-
.fn #
Oldfield, ‘Abor. of Australia,’ in ‘Tr. Eth. Soc.’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=three>iii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 240.
.fn-
.fn #
Bonwick, ‘Tasmanians,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 182.
.fn-
.fn #
Cranz, ‘Grönland,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 268; Egede, <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 187.
.fn-
.fn #
Molina, ‘Chili,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 86.
.fn-
.fn #
Rochefort, ‘Iles Antilles,’ <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 416, 429; <abbr rend=spell>J. G.</abbr> Müller, ‘Amer. Urrel.’
<abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 171, 217.
.fn-
.fn #
Waitz, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 182; <abbr rend=spell>J. L.</abbr> Wilson, ‘<abbr=West>W.</abbr> <abbr=Africa>Afr.</abbr>’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 387; Steinhauser, <abbr rend=spell>l.c.</abbr>
<abbr=page>p.</abbr> 134. Compare Callaway, <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 327, &c.
.fn-
.fn #
Bastian, ‘Psychologie,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 77.
.fn-
.fn #
Bastian, ‘Oestl. Asien,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=three>iii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 275.
.fn-
.fn #
Grimm, ‘<abbr rend=spell>D. M.</abbr>’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 829; Rochholz, <lang=de>‘Deutscher Glaube,’</lang> part <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 92;
Hanusch, ‘Slaw. Myth.’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 247.
.fn-
.fn #
Menander, 205, in Clement. Stromat.; Xenophon, Memor. Socr.;
Plato, Apol. Socr. &c. See Plotin. Ennead. <abbr=three>iii.</abbr> 4; Porphyr. Plotin.
.fn-
.fn #
Paulus Diaconus: <lang=la>‘<i>Genium</i> appellant Deum, qui vim obtineret rerum
omnium <i>generandarum</i>.’ Censorin. de Die Natali, 3: ‘Eundem esse genium
et larem, multi veteres memoriæ prodiderunt.’</lang> Tibull. Eleg. <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 2, 7; Ovid.
Trist. <abbr=three>iii.</abbr> 13, 18, <abbr=five>v.</abbr> 5, 10; Horat. Epist. <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> 1, 140, Od. <abbr=four>iv.</abbr> 11, 7. Appian.
de Bellis Parth. <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 156. Tertullian, Apol. <abbr='twenty-three'>xxiii.</abbr>
.fn-
.fn #
Serv. in <abbr=Virgil>Virg.</abbr> <abbr=Aeneid>Æn.</abbr> <abbr=six>vi.</abbr> 743: <lang=la>‘Cum nascimur, duos genios sortimur: unus
hortatur ad bona, alter depravat ad mala, quibus assistentibus post mortem
aut asserimur in meliorem vitam, aut condemnamur in deteriorem.’</lang> Horat.
Epist. <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> 187; Valer. Max. <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 7; Plutarch, Brutus. See Pauly, ‘Real-Encyclop.;’
Smith’s ‘<abbr=Dictionary>Dic.</abbr> of Biog. & Myth.’ <abbr rend=spell>s.v.</abbr> ‘genius.’
.fn-
.fn #
Acta Sanctorum Bolland.: <abbr rend=spell>S.</abbr> Francisca Romana <abbr=nine>ix.</abbr> Mart. Calmet,
‘Dissertation,’ <abbr=chapter>ch.</abbr> <abbr=four>iv.</abbr> <abbr=thirty>xxx.</abbr>; Bastian, ‘Mensch,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 140, 347, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=three>iii.</abbr>
<abbr=page>p.</abbr> 10; Wright, ‘<abbr=Saint>St.</abbr> Patrick’s Purgatory,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 33.
.fn-
.fn #
Rochholz, <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 93.
.fn-
.fn #
Bull, ‘Sermons,’ <abbr=second>2nd</abbr> <abbr=edition>ed.</abbr> London, 1714, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 506.
.fn-
.fn #
Swedenborg, ‘True Christian Religion,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 380. See also <abbr rend=spell>A. J.</abbr> Davis,
‘Philosophy of Spiritual Intercourse,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 38.
.fn-
.fn #
<abbr rend=spell>D.</abbr> Monnier, ‘Traditions Populaires,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 7.
.fn-
.fn #
<abbr rend=spell>L. H.</abbr> Morgan, ‘Iroquois,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 64. Brebeuf in ‘Rel. des Jés.’ 1636, <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 107.
See Schoolcraft, ‘Tribes,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=three>iii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 337.
.fn-
.fn #
Steinhauser, ‘Religion des Negers,’ in ‘Magazin der Evang. Missionen,’
Basel, 1856; <abbr=Number>No.</abbr> 2, <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 127, &c.
.fn-
.fn #
Plath, ‘Religion der alten Chinesen,’ part <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 44.
.fn-
.fn #
Oldfield, ‘Abor. of Austr.’ in ‘Tr. Eth. Soc.’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=three>iii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 232.
.fn-
.fn #
Steller, ‘Kamtschatka,’ <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 47, 265.
.fn-
.fn #
Oviedo, ‘Nicaragua,’ in Ternaux-Compans, part <abbr=fourteen>xiv.</abbr> <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 132, 160. Compare
Catlin, ‘<abbr rend=spell>N. A.</abbr> Ind.’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 169.
.fn-
.fn #
Creswick, ‘Veys,’ in ‘Tr. Eth. Soc.’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=six>vi.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 359. See Du Chaillu,
‘Ashango-land,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 106.
.fn-
.fn #
Brebeuf in ‘Rel. des Jés.’ 1636, <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 108. Long’s Exp. <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 46. See
Loskiel, ‘Indians of <abbr rend=spell>N. A.</abbr>’ part <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 45.
.fn-
.fn #
For details of the belief in water-spirits as the cause of drowning, see
ante, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 109.
.fn-
.fn #
Oldfield in ‘Tr. Eth. Soc.’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=three>iii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 328; Eyre, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 362; Grey,
<abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 339; Bastian, <lang=de>‘Vorstellungen von Wasser und Feuer,’</lang> in <lang=de>‘Zeitschrift
für Ethnologie,’</lang> <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> (contains a general collection of details as to
water-worship).
.fn-
.fn #
Compare John Morgan, ‘Life of William Buckley’; Bonwick, <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 203;
Taylor, ‘New Zealand,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 48, with Forbes Leslie, Brand, &c.
.fn-
.fn #
Cranz, ‘Grönland,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 267.
.fn-
.fn #
Tanner, ‘Narr.’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 341; Carver, ‘Travels,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 383; Franklin, ‘Journey
to Polar Sea,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 245; Lubbock, ‘Origin of Civilization,’ <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 213-20
(contains details as to water-worship); see Brinton, <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 124.
.fn-
.fn #
Rivero and Tschudi, ‘Peruvian Ant.’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 161; Garcilaso de la Vega,
‘Comm. Real.’ <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 10. See also <abbr rend=spell>J. G.</abbr> Müller, ‘Amer. Urrelig.’ <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 258, 260,
282.
.fn-
.fn #
Krapf, ‘<abbr=East>E.</abbr> <abbr=Africa>Afr.</abbr>’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 198; Steinhauser, <abbr rend=spell>l.c.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 131; Villault in Astley,
<abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 668; Backhouse, ‘Afr.’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 230; Callaway, ‘Zulu Tales,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr>
<abbr=page>p.</abbr> 90; Bastian, <abbr rend=spell>l.c.</abbr>
.fn-
.fn #
Castrén, <lang=de>‘Vorlesungen über die Altaischen Völker,’</lang> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 114. ‘Finn.
Myth.’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 70. Atkinson, ‘Siberia,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 444. Boecler, <lang=de>‘Ehsten Abergläub.
Gebräuche,’</lang> ed. Kreutzwald, <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 6.
.fn-
.fn #
Hodgson, ‘Abor. of India,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 164; Hunter, ‘Rural Bengal.’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 184.
See also Lubbock, <abbr rend=spell>l.c.</abbr>; Forbes Leslie, ‘Early Races of Scotland,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr>
<abbr=page>p.</abbr> 163, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 497.
.fn-
.fn #
Ward, ‘Hindoos,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 206, &c.
.fn-
.fn #
Homer, <abbr=Iliad>Il.</abbr> <abbr=twenty>xx.</abbr> <abbr='twenty-one'>xxi.</abbr> See Gladstone, ‘Juventus Mundi,’ <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 190, 345,
&c., &c.
.fn-
.fn #
Cosmas, book <abbr=three>iii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 197, <lang=la>‘superstitiosas institutiones, quas villani adhuc
semipagani in Pentecosten tertia sive quarta feria observabant offerentes
libamina super fontes mactabant victimas et dæmonibus immolabant.’</lang>
.fn-
.fn #
Poenitentiale Ecgberti, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> 22, ‘gif hwilc man his ælmessan gehâte oththe
bringe to hwilcon wylle;’ <abbr=four>iv.</abbr> 19, ‘gif hwâ his wæccan æt ænigum wylle
hæbbe.’ Grimm, ‘<abbr rend=spell>D. M.</abbr>’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 549, &c. See Hyltén-Cavallius, ‘Wärend och
Wirdarne,’ part <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 131, 171 (Sweden).
.fn-
.fn #
Grohmann, ‘Aberglauben aus Böhmen und Mähren,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 43, &c.
Hanusch, ‘Slaw. Myth.’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 291, &c. Ralston, ‘Songs of Russian People,’
<abbr=page>p.</abbr> 139, &c.
.fn-
.fn #
<abbr=Saint>St.</abbr> Clair and Brophy, ‘Bulgaria,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 46. Similar ideas in Grohmann,
<abbr=page>p.</abbr> 44. Eisenmenger, ‘Entd. Judenthum,’ part <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 426.
.fn-
.fn #
Maury, ‘Magie,’ &c., <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 158. Brand, ‘Pop. Ant.’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 366, &c.
Hunt, ‘Pop. Rom. <abbr=second>2nd</abbr> Series,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 40, &c. Forbes Leslie, ‘Early Races of
Scotland,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 156, &c.
.fn-
.fn #
‘Journ. Ind. Archip.’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 307.
.fn-
.fn #
Beeker, ‘Dyaks,’ in ‘Journ. Ind. Archip.’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=three>iii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 111.
.fn-
.fn #
Marsden, ‘Sumatra,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 301.
.fn-
.fn #
<abbr rend=spell>S. S.</abbr> Farmer, ‘Tonga,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 127.
.fn-
.fn #
Bastian, <lang=de>‘Der Baum in vergleichender Ethnologie,’</lang> in Lazarus and
Steinthal’s <lang=de>‘Zeitschrift für Völkerpsychologie,’</lang> &c., <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=five>v.</abbr> 1868.
.fn-
.fn #
Chr. Colombo, <abbr=chapter>ch.</abbr> <abbr=nineteen>xix.</abbr>; and in Pinkerton, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=twelve>xii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 87.
.fn-
.fn #
Burton, ‘<abbr rend=spell>W.</abbr> & <abbr rend=spell>W.</abbr> fr. <abbr=West>W.</abbr> <abbr=Africa>Afr.</abbr>’ <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 205, 243.
.fn-
.fn #
Waitz, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 188.
.fn-
.fn #
Bosman, letter 19, and in Pinkerton, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=sixteen>xvi.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 500.
.fn-
.fn #
Krapf, ‘<abbr=East>E.</abbr> <abbr=Africa>Afr.</abbr>’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 77; Prichard, ‘<abbr rend=spell>N. H.</abbr> of Man,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 290; Waitz, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr>
<abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 518. See also Merolla, ‘Congo,’ in Pinkerton, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=sixteen>xvi.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 236.
.fn-
.fn #
Bastian, ‘Oestl. Asien,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 457, 461, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=three>iii.</abbr> <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 187, 251, 289,
497. For details of tree-worship from other Asiatic districts, see Ainsworth,
‘Yezidis,’ in ‘Tr. Eth. Soc.’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 23; Jno. Wilson, ‘Parsi Religion,’
<abbr=page>p.</abbr> 262.
.fn-
.fn #
Hardy, ‘Manual of Budhism,’ <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 100, 443.
.fn-
.fn #
Fergusson, ‘Tree and Serpent Worship,’ <abbr=plates>pl.</abbr> <abbr='twenty-four'>xxiv.</abbr> <abbr='twenty-six'>xxvi.</abbr> &c.
.fn-
.fn #
Tabary in Bastian, <abbr rend=spell>l.c.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 295.
.fn-
.fn #
Hartknoch, <lang=de>‘Alt. und Neues Preussen,’</lang> part <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=chapter>ch.</abbr> <abbr=five>v.</abbr>
.fn-
.fn #
See Pauly, ‘Real-Encyclopedie.’ Homer. <abbr=Odyssey>Odyss.</abbr> <abbr=fourteen>xiv.</abbr> 327, <abbr=nineteen>xix.</abbr> 296.
.fn-
.fn #
Hymn. Homer. Aphrod. 257.
.fn-
.fn #
Ausonii Idyll. De Histor. 7.
.fn-
.fn #
Apollon. Rhod. Argonautica, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> 476. See Welcker, ‘Griech. Götterl.’
<abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=three>iii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 57.
.fn-
.fn #
Ovid. Metamm. <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 452, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> 345, <abbr=eleven>xi.</abbr> 67.
.fn-
.fn #
Dante, <lang=it>‘Divina Commedia,’ ‘Inferno,’</lang> canto <abbr=thirteen>xiii.</abbr>
.fn-
.fn #
Ariosto, ‘Orlando Furioso,’ canto <abbr=six>vi.</abbr>
.fn-
.fn #
Grimm, ‘<abbr rend=spell>D. M.</abbr>’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 615, &c. Bastian, <lang=de>‘Der Baum,’</lang> <abbr rend=spell>l.c.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 297; Hanusch,
‘Slaw. Myth.’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 313.
.fn-
.fn #
Wuttke, <lang=de>‘Volksaberglaube,’</lang> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 57, see 183.
.fn-
.fn #
Euseb. ‘Præp. Evang.’ <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 10.
.fn-
.fn #
Further details as to tree-worship in Bastian, ‘Der Baum,’ &c., here
cited; Lubbock, ‘Origin of Civilization,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 206, &c.; Fergusson, ‘Tree and
Serpent Worship,’ &c.
.fn-
.fn #
Bastian, <lang=de>‘Der Baum,’</lang> <abbr rend=spell>l.c.</abbr> &c.
.fn-
.fn #
Irving, ‘Astoria,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=chapter>ch.</abbr> <abbr=eight>viii.</abbr>
.fn-
.fn #
Darwin, ‘Journal,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 68.
.fn-
.fn #
Polack, ‘New <abbr rend=spell>Z.</abbr>’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 6; Taylor, <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 171, see 99.
.fn-
.fn #
<abbr=Saint>St.</abbr> John, ‘Far East,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 89.
.fn-
.fn #
Wallace, ‘Eastern Archipelago,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 338.
.fn-
.fn #
Prichard, ‘Nat. <abbr=History>Hist.</abbr> of Man,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 531.
.fn-
.fn #
Merolla in Pinkerton, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=sixteen>xvi.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 236.
.fn-
.fn #
Lubbock, <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 193; Bastian, <abbr rend=spell>l.c.</abbr>; Park, ‘Travels,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 64, 106.
.fn-
.fn #
Castrén, ‘Finn. Myth.’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 86, &c., 191, &c.; Latham, ‘Descr. Eth.’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr>
<abbr=page>p.</abbr> 363; Simpson, ‘Journey,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 261.
.fn-
.fn #
Boecler, <lang=de>‘Ehsten Abergläubische Gebräuche,’</lang> &c., ed. Kreutzwald, <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 2,
112, 146.
.fn-
.fn #
Hodgson, ‘Abor. of India,’ <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 165, 173.
.fn-
.fn #
Macpherson, <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 61.
.fn-
.fn #
Dalton, ‘Kols,’ in ‘Tr. Eth. Soc.’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=six>vi.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 34. Bastian, ‘Oestl.
Asien.’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 134, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=three>iii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 252.
.fn-
.fn #
<abbr=Deuteronomy>Deut.</abbr> <abbr=twelve>xii.</abbr> 3; <abbr=sixteen>xvi.</abbr> 21. Judges <abbr=six>vi.</abbr> 25. 1 Kings <abbr=fourteen>xiv.</abbr> 23; <abbr=fifteen>xv.</abbr> 13; <abbr=eighteen>xviii.</abbr>
19. 2 Kings <abbr=seventeen>xvii.</abbr> 10; xxiii. 4. Is. lvii. 5. Jerem. <abbr=seventeen>xvii.</abbr> 2. <abbr=Ezekiel>Ezek.</abbr> <abbr=six>vi.</abbr> 13;
<abbr=twenty>xx.</abbr> 28. <abbr=Hosea>Hos.</abbr> <abbr=four>iv.</abbr> 13, &c., &c.
.fn-
.fn #
Sil. Ital. Punica, <abbr=three>iii.</abbr> 675, 690. Harduin, Acta Conciliorum, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr>
For further evidence as to Semitic tree-and-grove worship, see Movers,
‘Phönizier,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 560, &c.
.fn-
.fn #
Hunter, ‘Rural Bengal,’ <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 131, 194.
.fn-
.fn #
Boehtlingk and Roth, <abbr rend=spell>s.v.</abbr> ‘chaityataru.’ Ward, ‘Hindoos,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr>
<abbr=page>p.</abbr> 204.
.fn-
.fn #
Ovid. Metamm. <abbr=eight>viii.</abbr> 741.
.fn-
.fn #
Cato de Re Rustica, 139; Plin. <abbr=seventeen>xvii.</abbr> 47.
.fn-
.fn #
Hanusch, ‘Slaw. Myth.’ <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 98, 229. Hartknoch, part <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=chapter>ch.</abbr> <abbr=five>v.</abbr> <abbr=seven>vii.</abbr>;
Grimm, ‘<abbr rend=spell>D. M.</abbr>’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 67.
.fn-
.fn #
Maxim. Tyr. <abbr=eight>viii.</abbr>; Plin. <abbr=sixteen>xvi.</abbr> 95.
.fn-
.fn #
Tacit. Germania, 9, 39, &c.; Grimm, ‘<abbr rend=spell>D. M.</abbr>’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 66.
.fn-
.fn #
Hyltén-Cavallius, ‘Wärend och Wirdarne,’ part <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 142.
.fn-
.fn #
Ralston, ‘Songs of Russian People,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 153, see 238.
.fn-
.fn #
Grimm, ‘<abbr rend=spell>D. M.</abbr>’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 62, &c.
.fn-
.fn #
Steller, ‘Kamtschatka,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 276.
.fn-
.fn #
Garcilaso de la Vega, <lang=es>‘Comentarios Reales,’</lang> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=chapter>ch.</abbr> <abbr=nine>ix.</abbr> &c.
.fn-
.fn #
Marsden, ‘Sumatra,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 303.
.fn-
.fn #
Petron. Arb. Fragm.; Statius, <abbr=three>iii.</abbr> Theb. 661.
.fn-
.fn #
See ante, <abbr=chapter>ch.</abbr> <abbr=eleven>xi</abbr>.
.fn-
.fn #
Mouhot, ‘Indo-China,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 252.
.fn-
.fn #
Charlevoix, <lang=fr>‘Nouvelle France,’</lang> <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=five>v.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 443.
.fn-
.fn #
<abbr rend=spell>W. M.</abbr> Wood in ‘Tr. Eth. Soc.’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=four>iv.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 36.
.fn-
.fn #
Simpson, ‘Journey,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 269; Erman, ‘Siberia,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 492;
Latham, ‘Descr. Eth.’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 456; ‘Journ. Ind. Archip.’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=four>iv.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 590.
.fn-
.fn #
Ellis, ‘Polyn. Res.’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 336.
.fn-
.fn #
Farmer, ‘Tonga,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 126; Mariner, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 106.
.fn-
.fn #
Williams, ‘Fiji,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 217, &c.
.fn-
.fn #
Turner, ‘Polynesia,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 238.
.fn-
.fn #
Shortland, ‘Trads. of <abbr rend=spell>N. Z.</abbr>’ <abbr=chapter>ch.</abbr> <abbr=four>iv.</abbr>
.fn-
.fn #
Marsden, ‘Sumatra,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 292.
.fn-
.fn #
Loskiel, ‘Ind. of <abbr rend=spell>N. A.</abbr>’ part <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 40; Catlin, ‘<abbr rend=spell>N. A.</abbr> Ind.’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr>
<abbr=page>p.</abbr> 36; Schoolcraft, ‘Tribes,’ part <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 34, part <abbr=five>v.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 652; Waitz, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=three>iii.</abbr>
<abbr=page>p.</abbr> 190.
.fn-
.fn #
See ante, <abbr=page>p.</abbr> #8#; Callaway, ‘Rel. of Amazulu,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 196.
.fn-
.fn #
Steinhauser, <lang=de>‘Religion des Negers,’</lang> <abbr rend=spell>l.c.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 133. <abbr rend=spell>J. L.</abbr> Wilson, ‘<abbr=West>W.</abbr> <abbr=Africa>Afr.</abbr>’
<abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 210, 218. Schlegel, ‘Ewe-Sprache,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> <abbr=fifteen>xv.</abbr>
.fn-
.fn #
Bosman, ‘Guinea,’ letter 19; in Pinkerton, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=sixteen>xvi.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 499. See
Burton, ‘Dahome,’ <abbr=chapter>ch.</abbr> <abbr=four>iv.</abbr>, <abbr=seventeen>xvii.</abbr> An account of the Vaudoux serpent-worship
still carried on among the negroes of Hayti, in ‘Lippincott’s Magazine,’
Philadelphia, March, 1870.
.fn-
.fn #
Castrén, ‘Finn. Myth.’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 196, see 228.
.fn-
.fn #
<abbr rend=spell>J. F.</abbr> McLennan in ‘Fortnightly Review,’ 1869-70; reprinted in ‘Studies
in Ancient History,’ <abbr=second>2nd</abbr> Series, <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 117, 491.
.fn-
.fn #
John Long, ‘Voyages and Travels of an Indian Interpreter,’ London,
1791, <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 86. See <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> #233#, #411# of present volume.
.fn-
.fn #
Grey, ‘Journals of Expeditions in <abbr='North West'>N. W.</abbr> & <abbr=West>W.</abbr> Australia,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr>
<abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 225-9; ‘Archæologia Americana,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 109.
.fn-
.fn #
<abbr rend=spell>J. G.</abbr> Frazer, ‘Totemism,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 53; ‘Golden Bough,’ <abbr=second>2nd</abbr> <abbr=edition>ed.</abbr> <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=three>iii.</abbr>
<abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 419, 423.
.fn-
.fn #
Codrington, ‘Melanesians,’ <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 32-3, 170.
.fn-
.fn #
Spencer and Gillen, ‘Native Tribes of Central Australia,’ 1899, <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 73,
121.
.fn-
.fn #
General references in <abbr rend=spell>J. F.</abbr> McLennan, ‘Studies in Ancient History;’
<abbr rend=spell>J. G.</abbr> Frazer, ‘Totemism.’
.fn-
.fn #
Herod. <abbr=two>ii.</abbr>; Plutarch, De Iside & Osiride; Strabo, <abbr=seventeen>xvii.</abbr> 1; Wilkinson,
‘Ancient <abbr=Egypt>Eg.</abbr>,’ edited by Birch, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=three>iii.</abbr>; Bunsen, <abbr=second>2nd</abbr> Edition, with notes
by Birch, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr>
.fn-
.fn #
Ward, ‘Hindoos,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 195, &c.
.fn-
.fn #
Schoolcraft, part <abbr=three>iii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 231; Brinton, <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 108, &c.
.fn-
.fn #
Garcilaso de la Vega, <lang=es>‘Comentarios Reales,’</lang> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 9.
.fn-
.fn #
Herodot. <abbr=eight>viii.</abbr> 41.
.fn-
.fn #
Servius ad <abbr=Aeneid>Æn.</abbr> <abbr=five>v.</abbr> 95.
.fn-
.fn #
Hartknoch, ‘Preussen,’ part <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 143, 162.
.fn-
.fn #
Grimm, ‘<abbr rend=spell>D. M.</abbr>’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 648.
.fn-
.fn #
Grimm, ‘<abbr rend=spell>D. M.</abbr>’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 650. Rochholz, <lang=de>‘Deutscher Glaube,’</lang> &c., <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 146.
Monnier, ‘Traditions Populaires,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 644. Grohmann, <lang=de>‘Aberglauben aus
Böhmen,’</lang> &c., <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 78. Ralston, ‘Songs of Russian People,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 175.
.fn-
.fn #
Fergusson ‘Tree and Serpent Worship,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 55, &c., <abbr=plate>pl.</abbr> <abbr='twenty-four'>xxiv.</abbr> McLennan
<abbr rend=spell>l.c.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 563, &c.
.fn-
.fn #
Strabo, <abbr=thirteen>xiii.</abbr> 1, 14.
.fn-
.fn #
<abbr rend=spell>J. G.</abbr> Müller, ‘Amer. Urrel.’ <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 62, 585.
.fn-
.fn #
<abbr rend=spell>J. B.</abbr> Schlegel, <lang=de>‘Ewe-Sprache,’</lang> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> <abbr=fourteen>xiv.</abbr>
.fn-
.fn #
Hanusch, ‘Slaw. Myth.’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 217.
.fn-
.fn #
Pausan. <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> 28; Ælian, <abbr=sixteen>xvi.</abbr> 39. See Welcker, <lang=de>‘Griech. Götterl.’</lang> <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr>
<abbr=page>p.</abbr> 734.
.fn-
.fn #
Macrob. Saturnal. <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 9. Movers, ‘Phönizier,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 500.
.fn-
.fn #
Details such as in Schoolcraft, ‘<abbr=Indian>Ind.</abbr> Tribes,’ part <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 38, 414, may be
ascribed to Christian intercourse. See Brinton, <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 121.
.fn-
.fn #
Lepsius, ‘Todtenbuch,’ and Birch’s transl. in Bunsen’s ‘Egypt,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=five>v.</abbr>
.fn-
.fn #
Spiegel, ‘Avesta,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 66, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=three>iii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> lix.
.fn-
.fn #
Epiphan. Adv. Hæres. <abbr='thirty-seven'>xxxvii.</abbr> Tertullian. <lang=la>De Præscript. contra
Hæreticos</lang>, 47.
.fn-
.fn #
Further collections of evidence relating to Zoolatry in general may be
found in Bastian, <lang=de>‘Das Thier in seiner mythologischen Bedeutung,’</lang> in
Bastian and Hartmann’s <lang=de>‘Zeitschrift für Ethnologie,’</lang> <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr>, Meiners,
<lang=de>‘Geschichte der Religionen,’</lang> <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr>
.fn-
.fn #
Comte, ‘Philosophie Positive,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=five>v.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 101.
.fn-
.fn #
Turner, ‘Polynesia,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 242.
.fn-
.fn #
Brinton, ‘Myths of New World,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 105.
.fn-
.fn #
Acosta, ‘Historia de las Indias,’ book <abbr=five>v.</abbr> <abbr=chapter>c.</abbr> <abbr=four>iv.</abbr>; Rivero & Tschudi,
<abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 161, 179; <abbr rend=spell>J. G.</abbr> Müller, <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 365.
.fn-
.fn #
Le Jeune in <lang=fr>‘Rel. des Jés. dans la Nouvelle France,’</lang> 1634, <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 13.
Lafitau, <lang=fr>‘Mœurs des Sauvages,’</lang> <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 370. See also Waitz, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=three>iii.</abbr>
<abbr=page>p.</abbr> 194; Schoolcraft, part <abbr=three>iii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 327.
.fn-
.fn #
Ralston, ‘Songs of the Russian People,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 375. The Slavonic myth of
Buyán with its dripping oak and the snake Garafena lying beneath, is
obviously connected with the Scandinavian myth of the dripping ash,
Yggdrasill, the snake Nidhögg below, and the two Swans of the Urdharfount,
parents of all swans.
.fn-
.fn #
Morgan, ‘Iroquois,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 162.
.fn-
.fn #
Castrén, ‘Finn. Myth.’ <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 106, 160, 189, &c.
.fn-
.fn #
Eisenmenger, ‘Judenthum,’ part <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 376; Bastian, ‘Mensch,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=three>iii.</abbr>
<abbr=page>p.</abbr> 194.
.fn-
.fn #
De Brosses, <lang=fr>‘Dieux Fétiches,’</lang> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 58.
.fn-
// File: 255.png
.pn +1
.sp 4
.h2 id=chap16
CHAPTER <abbr=sixteen>XVI.</abbr> | ANIMISM (<i>continued</i>).
.pm letter-start
Higher Deities of Polytheism—Human characteristics applied to Deity—Lords
of Spiritual Hierarchy—Polytheism: its course of development
in lower and higher Culture—Principles of its investigation; classification
of Deities according to central conceptions of their significance
and function—Heaven-god—Rain-god—Thunder-god—Wind
gods—Earth-god—Water-god—Sea-god—Fire-god—Sun-god—Moon-god.
.pm letter-end
.sp 2
Surveying the religions of the world and studying the
descriptions of deity among race after race, we may recur
to old polemical terms in order to define a dominant idea of
theology at large. Man so habitually ascribes to his deities
human shape, human passions, human nature, that we may
declare him an Anthropomorphite, an Anthropopathite, and
(to complete the series) an Anthropophysite. In this state
of religious thought, prevailing as it does through so immense
a range among mankind, one of the strongest confirmations
may be found of the theory here advanced concerning
the development of Animism. This theory that
the conception of the human soul is the very ‘fons et
origo’ of the conceptions of spirit and deity in general,
has been already vouched for by the fact of human souls
being held to pass into the characters of good and evil
demons, and to ascend to the rank of deities. But beyond
this, as we consider the nature of the great gods of the
nations, in whom the vastest functions of the universe are
vested, it will still be apparent that these mighty deities are
modelled on human souls, that in great measure their feeling
and sympathy, their character and habit, their will and
action, even their material and form, display throughout
their adaptations, exaggerations and distortions, characteristics
// File: 256.png
.pn +1
shaped upon those of the human spirit. The key
to investigation of the Dii Majorum Gentium of the world
is the reflex of humanity, and as we behold their figures in
their proper districts of theology, memory ever brings back
the Psalmist’s words, ‘Thou thoughtest I was altogether
as thyself.’

The higher deities of Polytheism have their places in the
general animistic system of mankind. Among nation after
nation it is still clear how, man being the type of deity,
human society and government became the model on which
divine society and government were shaped. As chiefs
and kings are among men, so are the great gods among
the lesser spirits. They differ from the souls and minor
spiritual beings which we have as yet chiefly considered,
but the difference is rather of rank than of nature. They
are personal spirits, reigning over personal spirits. Above
the disembodied souls and manes, the local genii of rocks
and fountains and trees, the host of good and evil demons,
and the rest of the spiritual commonality, stand these
mightier deities, whose influence is less confined to local or
individual interests, and who, as it pleases them, can act
directly within their vast domain, or control and operate
through the lower beings of their kind, their servants,
agents, or mediators. The great gods of Polytheism,
numerous and elaborately defined in the theology of the
cultured world, do not however make their earliest appearance
there. In the religions of the lower races their
principal types were already cast, and thenceforward, for
many an age of progressing or relapsing culture, it became
the work of poet and priest, legend-monger and historian,
theologian and philosopher, to develop and renew, to degrade
and abolish, the mighty lords of the Pantheon.

With little exception, wherever a savage or barbaric system
of religion is thoroughly described, great gods make
their appearance in the spiritual world as distinctly as
chiefs in the human tribe. In the lists, it is true, there are
set down great deities, good or evil, who probably came
// File: 257.png
.pn +1
in from modern Christian missionary teaching, or otherwise
by contact with foreign religions. It is often difficult
to distinguish from these the true local gods, animistic
figures of native meaning and origin. Among the following
polytheistic systems, examples may be found of such
combinations, with the complex theological problems
they suggest. Among the Australians, above the swarming
souls, nature-spirits, demons, there stand out mythic
figures of higher divinity; Nguk-wonga, the Spirit of
the Waters; Biam, who gives ceremonial songs and
causes disease, and is perhaps the same as Baiame the
creator; Nambajandi and Warrugura, lords of heaven and
the nether world.[#] In South America, if we look into the
theology of the Manaos (whose name is well known in the
famous legend of El Dorado and the golden city of Manoa),
we see Mauari and Saraua, who may be called the Good
and Evil Spirit, and beside the latter the two Gamainhas,
Spirits of the Waters and the Forest.[#] In North America
the description of a solemn Algonquin sacrifice introduces
a list of twelve dominant manitus or gods; first the Great
Manitu in heaven, then the Sun, Moon, Earth, Fire, Water,
the House-god, the Indian corn, and the four Winds or
Cardinal Points.[#] The Polynesian’s crowd of manes, and
the lower ranks of deities of earth, sea, and air, stand below
the great gods of Peace and War, Oro and Tane the national
deities of Tahiti and Huahine, Raitubu the Sky-producer,
Hina who aided in the work of forming the world, her
father Taaroa, the uncreate Creator who dwells in Heaven.[#]
Among the Land Dayaks of Borneo, the commonalty of
spirits consists of the souls of the departed, and of such
beings as dwell in the noble old forests on the tops of lofty
hills, or such as hover about villages and devour the stores
of rice; above these are Tapa, creator and preserver of man,
// File: 258.png
.pn +1
and Iang, who taught the Dayaks their religion, Jirong,
whose function is the birth and death of men, and Tenabi,
who made, and still causes to flourish, the earth
and all things therein save the human race.[#] In West
Africa, an example may be taken from the theology of the
Slave Coast, a systematic scheme of all nature as moved
and quickened by spirits, kindly or hostile to mankind.
These spirits dwell in field and wood, mountain and
valley; they live in air and water; multitudes of them
have been human souls, such ghosts hover about the
graves and near the living, and have influence with the
under-gods, whom they worship; among these ‘edrõ’ are
the patron-deities of men and families and tribes; through
these subordinate beings works the highest god, Mawu.
The missionary who describes this negro hierarchy quite
simply sees in it Satan and his Angels.[#] In Asia, the
Samoyed’s little spirits that are bound to his little fetishes,
and the little elves of wood and stream, have greater beings
above them, the Forest-Spirit, the River-Spirit, the Sun
and Moon, the Evil Spirit and the Good Spirit above all.[#]
The countless host of the local gods of the Khonds pervade
the world, rule the functions of nature, and control
the life of men, and these have their chiefs; above them
rank the deified souls of men who have become tutelary
gods of tribes; above these are the six great gods, the Rain-god,
the goddess of Firstfruits, the god of Increase, the god
of Hunting, the iron god of War, the god of Boundaries,
with which group stands also the Judge of the Dead, and
above all other gods, the Sun-god and Creator Boora
Pennu, and his wife the mighty Earth-goddess, Tari Pennu.[#]
The Spanish conquerors found in Mexico a complex and
systematic hierarchy of spiritual beings; numberless were
the little deities who had their worship in house and lane,
// File: 259.png
.pn +1
grove and temple, and from these the worshipper could
pass to gods of flowers or of pulque, of hunters and goldsmiths,
and then to the great deities of the nation and the
world, the figures which the mythologist knows so well,
Centeotl the Earth-goddess, Tlaloc the Water-god, Huitzilopochtli
the War-god, Mictlanteuctli the Lord of Hades,
Tonatiuh and Metztli the Sun and Moon.[#] Thus, starting
from the theology of savage tribes, the student arrives at
the polytheistic hierarchies of the Aryan nations. In
ancient Greece, the cloud-compelling Heaven-god reigns
over such deities as the god of War and the goddess of
Love, the Sun-god and the Moon-goddess, the Fire-god and
the ruler of the Under-world, the Winds and Rivers, the
nymphs of wood and well and forest.[#] In modern India,
Brahma-Vishnu-Siva reign pre-eminent over a series of
divinities, heterogeneous and often obscure in nature, but
among whom stand out in clear meaning and purpose such
figures as Indra of Heaven and Sûrya of the Sun, Agni of
the Fire, Pavana of the Winds and Varuna of the Waters,
Yama lord of the Under-world, Kâma god of Love and
Kârttikeya of War, Panchânana who gives epilepsy and
Manasâ who preserves from snake-bites, the divine Rivers,
and below these the ranks of nymphs, elves, demons, ministering
spirits, of heaven and earth—Gandharvas, Apsaras,
Siddhas, Asuras, Bhûtas, Râkshasas.[#]

The systematic comparison of polytheistic religions has
been of late years worked with admirable results. These
have been due to the adoption of comparatively exact
methods, as where the ancient Aryan deities of the Veda
have been brought into connexion with those of the Homeric
poems, in some cases as clearly as where we Englishmen
can study in the Scandinavian Edda the old gods of our
own race, whose names stand in local names on the map of
England, and serve as counters to reckon our days of the
// File: 260.png
.pn +1
week. Yet it need scarcely be said that to compare in full
detail the deities even of closely connected nations, and à
fortiori those of tribes not united in language and history,
is still a difficult and unsatisfactory task. The old-fashioned
identifications of the gods and heroes of different nations
admitted most illusory evidence. Some had little more
ground than similar-sounding names, as when the Hindu
Brahma and Prajâpati were discovered to be the Hebrew
Abraham and Japhet, and when even Sir William Jones
identified Woden with Buddha. With not much more
stringency, it is still often taken as matter of course that
the Keltic Beal, whose bealtines correspond with a whole
class of bonfire-customs among several branches of the Aryan
race, is the Bel or the Baal of the Semitic cultus. Unfortunately,
classical scholarship at the Renaissance started
the subject on an unsound footing, by accepting the Greek
deities with the mystified shapes and perverted names they
had assumed in Latin literature. That there was a partial
soundness in such comparisons, as in identifying Zeus and
Jupiter, Hestia and Vesta, made the plan all the more misleading
when Kronos came to figure as Saturn, Poseidon
as Neptune, Athene as Minerva. To judge by example of
the possible results of comparative theology worked on such
principles, Thoth being identified with Hermes, Hermes
with Mercury, and Mercury with Woden, there comes to
pass the absurd transition from the Egyptian ibis-headed
divine scribe of the gods, to the Teutonic heaven-dwelling
driver of the raging tempest. It is not in this loose fashion
that the mental processes are to be sought out, which led
nations to arrange so similarly and yet so diversely their
array of deities.

A twofold perplexity besets the soberest investigator on
this ground, caused by the modification of deities by development
at home and adoption from abroad. Even among
the lower races, gods of long traditional legend and worship
acquire a mixed and complex personality. The mythologist
who seeks to ascertain the precise definition of the Red
// File: 261.png
.pn +1
Indian Michabu in his various characters of Heaven-god
and Water-god, Creator of the Earth and first ancestor of
Man, or who examines the personality of the Polynesian
Maui in his relation to Sun, lord of Heaven or Hades, first
Man, and South Sea Island hero, will sympathize with the
Semitic or Aryan student bewildered among the heterogeneous
attributes of Baal and Astarte, Herakles and
Athene. Sir William Jones scarcely overstated the perplexity
of the problem in the following remarkable forecast
delivered more than a century ago, in the first anniversary
discourse before the Asiatic Society of Bengal, at a
time when glimpses of the relation of the Hindu to the
Greek Pantheon were opening into a new broad view of
comparative theology in his mind. ‘We must not be surprised,’
he says, ‘at finding, on a close examination, that
the characters of all the Pagan deities, male and female,
melt into each other and at last into one or two; for it
seems a well-founded opinion, that the whole crowd of
gods and goddesses in ancient Rome, and modern Váránes
[Benares] mean only the powers of nature, and principally
those of the Sun, expressed in a variety of ways and by a
multitude of fanciful names.’ As to the travelling of gods
from country to country, and the changes they are apt to
suffer on the road, we may judge by examples of what has
happened within our knowledge. It is not merely that one
nation borrows a god from another with its proper figure
and attributes and rites, as where in Rome the worshipper
of the Sun might take his choice whether he would adore in
the temple of the Greek Apollo, the Egyptian Osiris, the
Persian Mithra, or the Syrian Elagabalus. The intercourse
of races can produce quainter results than this. Any
Orientalist will appreciate the wonderful hotchpot of Hindu
and Arabic language and religion in the following details,
noted down among rude tribes of the Malay Peninsula. We
hear of Jin Bumi the Earth-god (Arabic <lang=ar>jin</lang> = demon,
Sanskrit <lang=sa>bhûmi</lang> = earth); incense is burnt to Jewajewa
(Sanskrit <lang=sa>dewa</lang> = god) who intercedes with Pirman the
// File: 262.png
.pn +1
supreme invisible deity above the sky (Brahma?); the
Moslem Allah Táala, with his wife Nabi Mahamad (Prophet
Mohammed), appear in the Hinduized characters of creator
and destroyer of all things; and while the spirits worshipped
in stones are called by the Hindu term of ‘dewa’ or deity,
Moslem conversion has so far influenced the mind of the
stone-worshipper, that he will give to his sacred boulder
the title of a Prophet Mohammed.[#] If we would have examples
nearer home, we may trace the evil demon Aeshma
Daeva of the ancient Persian religion becoming the Asmodeus
of the book of Tobit, afterwards to find a place in the
devilry of the middle ages, and to end his career as the
Diable Boiteux of Le Sage. Even the Aztec war-god
Huitzilopochtli may be found figuring as the demon Vizlipuzli
in the popular drama of Doctor Faustus.

In ethnographic comparisons of the religions of mankind,
unless there is evidence of direct relation between gods belonging
to two peoples, the safe and reasonable principle is
to limit the identification of deities to the attributes they
have in common. Thus it is proper to compare the Dendid
of the White Nile with the Aryan Indra, in so far as both
are Heaven-gods and Rain-gods; the Aztec Tonatiuh with
the Greek Apollo, in so far as both are Sun-gods; the
Australian Baiame with the Scandinavian Thor, in so far
as both are Thunder-gods. The present purpose of displaying
Polytheism as a department of Animism does not
require that elaborate comparison of systems which would
be in place in a manual of the religions of the world. The
great gods may be scientifically ranged and treated according
to their fundamental ideas, the strongly-marked and
intelligible conceptions which, under names often obscure
and personalities often mixed and mystified, they stand to
represent. It is enough to show the similarity of principle
on which the theologic mind of the lower races shaped
those old familiar types of deity, with which our first
acquaintance was gained in the pantheon of classic mythology.
// File: 263.png
.pn +1
It will be observed that not all, but the principal
figures, belong to strict Nature-worship. These may be
here first surveyed. They are Heaven and Earth, Rain
and Thunder, Water and Sea, Fire and Sun and Moon,
worshipped either directly for themselves, or as animated
by their special deities, or these deities are more fully set
apart and adored in anthropomorphic shape—a group of
conceptions distinctly and throughout based on the principles
of savage fetishism. True, the great Nature-gods are
huge in strength and far-reaching in influence, but this is
because the natural objects they belong to are immense
in size or range of action, pre-eminent and predominant
among lesser fetishes, though still fetishes themselves.

In the religion of the North American Indians, the
Heaven-god displays perfectly the gradual blending of the
material sky itself with its personal deity. In the early
times of French colonization, Father Brebeuf mentions the
Hurons addressing themselves to the earth, rivers, lakes,
and dangerous rocks, but above all to heaven, believing
that it is all animated, and some powerful demon dwells
therein. He describes them as speaking directly to
heaven by its personal name ‘Aronhiaté!’ Thus when
they throw tobacco into the fire as sacrifice, if it is
Heaven they address, they say ‘Aronhiaté! (Heaven!)
behold my sacrifice, have pity on me, aid me!’ They
have recourse to Heaven in almost all their necessities,
and respect this great body above all creatures, remarking
in it particularly something divine. They imagine in the
sky an ‘oki,’ i.e. demon or power, which rules the seasons
of the year and controls the winds and waves. They
dread its anger, calling it to witness when they make
some important promise or treaty, saying, Heaven hears
what we do this day, and fearing chastisement should
their word be broken. One of their renowned sorcerers
said, Heaven will be angry if men mock him; when
they cry every day to Heaven, Aronhiaté! yet give him
nothing, he will avenge himself. Etymology again suggests
// File: 264.png
.pn +1
the divine sky as the inner meaning of the Iroquois
supreme deity, Taronhiawagon the ‘sky-comer’ or ‘sky-holder,’
who had his festival about the winter solstice, who
brought the ancestral race out of the mountain, taught them
hunting, marriage, and religion, gave them corn and beans,
squashes and potatoes and tobacco, and guided them on
their migrations as they spread over the land. Among the
North American tribes, not only does the conception of the
personal divine Heaven thus seem the fundamental idea of
the Heaven-god, but it may expand under Christian influence
into a yet more general thought of divinity in the
Great Spirit in Heaven.[#] In South Africa, the Zulus speak
of the Heaven as a person, ascribing to it the power of exercising
a will, and they also speak of a Lord of Heaven,
whose wrath they deprecate during a thunderstorm. In the
native legends of the Zulu princess in the country of the
Half-Men, the captive maiden expostulates personally with
the Sky, for only acting in an ordinary way, and not in the
way she wishes, to destroy her enemies:—

.pm verse-start
‘Listen, yon heaven. Attend; mayoya, listen.
Listen, heaven. It does not thunder with loud thunder.
It thunders in an undertone. What is it doing?
It thunders to produce rain and change of season.’
.pm verse-end

Thereupon the clouds gather tumultuously; the princess
sings again and it thunders terribly, and the Heaven kills
the Half-Men round about her, but she is left unharmed.[#]
West Africa is another district where the Heaven-god reigns,
in whose attributes may be traced the transition from the
direct conception of the personal sky to that of the supreme
creative deity. Thus in Bonny, one word serves for god,
heaven, cloud; and in Aquapim, Yankupong is at once
the highest god and the weather. Of this latter deity, the
// File: 265.png
.pn +1
Nyankupon of the Oji nation, it is remarked by Riis,
‘The idea of him as a supreme spirit is obscure and uncertain,
and often confounded with the visible heavens
or sky, the upper world (sorro) which lies beyond human
reach; and hence the same word is used also for heavens,
sky, and even for rain and thunder.’[#] The same transition
from the divine sky to its anthropomorphic deity
shows out in the theology of the Tatar tribes. The rude
Samoyed’s mind scarcely if at all separates the visible personal
Heaven from the divinity united with it under one
and the same name, Num. Among the more cultured Finns,
the cosmic attributes of the Heaven-god, Ukko the Old
One, display the same original nature; he is the ancient
of Heaven, the father of Heaven, the bearer of the Firmament,
the god of the Air, the dweller on the Clouds, the
Cloud-driver, the shepherd of the Cloud-lambs.[#] So far
as the evidence of language, and document, and ceremony,
can preserve the record of remotely ancient thought, China
shows in the highest deity of the state religion a like
theologic development. Tien, Heaven, is in personal shape
the Shang-ti or Upper Emperor, the Lord of the Universe.
The Chinese books may idealize this supreme
divinity; they may say that his command is fate, that he
rewards the good and punishes the wicked, that he loves
and protects the people beneath him, that he manifests
himself through events, that he is a spirit full of insight,
penetrating, fearful, majestic. Yet they cannot refine him
so utterly away into an abstract celestial deity, but that
language and history still recognize him as what he was
in the beginning, Tien, Heaven.[#]
// File: 266.png
.pn +1

With such evidence perfectly accords the history of the
Heaven-god among our Indo-European race. This being,
adored in ancient Aryan religion, was—

.pm verse-start
‘... the whole circle of the heavens, for him
A sensitive existence, and a God,
With lifted hands invoked, and songs of praise.’
.pm verse-end

The evidence of language to this effect has been set
forth with extreme clearness by Professor Max Müller. In
the first stage, the Sanskrit <lang=sa>Dyu (Dyaus)</lang>, the bright sky,
is taken in a sense so direct that it expresses the idea of
day, and the storms are spoken of as going about in it; while
Greek and Latin rival this distinctness in such terms as
<lang=grc>ἔνδιος</lang>, ‘in the open air,’ <lang=grc>εὔδιος</lang>, ‘well-skyed, calm,’ <lang=la>sub
divo</lang>, ‘in the open air,’ <lang=la>sub Jove frigido</lang>, ‘under the cold
sky,’ and that graphic description by Ennius of the bright
firmament, Jove whom all invoke:—

.pm verse-start
<lang=la>‘Aspice hoc sublime candens, quem invocant omnes Jovem.’</lang>
.pm verse-end

In the second stage, <lang=sa>Dyaus pitar</lang>, Heaven-father, stands in
the Veda as consort of <lang=sa>Prithivî mâtar</lang>, Earth-mother, ranked
high or highest among the bright gods. To the Greek he
is <lang=grc>Ζεὺς πατήρ</lang>, the Heaven-father, Zeus the All-seer, the
Cloud-compeller, King of Gods and Men. As Max Müller
writes: ‘There was nothing that could be told of the sky
that was not in some form or other ascribed to Zeus. It
was Zeus who rained, who thundered, who snowed, who
hailed, who sent the lightning, who gathered the clouds,
who let loose the winds, who held the rainbow. It is Zeus
who orders the days and nights, the months, seasons, and
years. It is he who watches over the fields, who sends rich
harvests, and who tends the flocks. Like the sky, Zeus
dwells on the highest mountains; like the sky, Zeus embraces
the earth; like the sky, Zeus is eternal, unchanging,
the highest god. For good and for evil, Zeus the sky and
Zeus the god are wedded together in the Greek mind, language
triumphing over thought, tradition over religion.’
The same Aryan Heaven-father is Jupiter, in that original
// File: 267.png
.pn +1
name and nature which he bore in Rome long before they
arrayed him in the borrowed garments of Greek myth, and
adapted him to the ideas of classic philosophy.[#] Thus, in
nation after nation, took place the great religious development
by which the Father-Heaven became the Father in
Heaven.

The Rain-god is most often the Heaven-god exercising a
special function, though sometimes taking a more distinctly
individual form, or blending in characteristics with a general
Water-god. In East Central Africa, the spirit of an old
chief dwelling on a cloudy mountain-top may receive the
worship of his votaries and send down the refreshing
showers in answer to their prayers; among the Damaras
the highest deity is Omakuru the Rain-giver, who dwells
in the far North; while to the negro of West Africa
the Heaven-god is the rain-giver, and may pass in name
into the rain itself.[#] Pachacamac, the Peruvian world-creator,
has set the Rain-goddess to pour waters over the
land, and send down hail and snow.[#] The Aztec Tlaloc
was no doubt originally a Heaven-god, for he holds the
thunder and lightning, but he has taken especially the attributes
of Water-god and Rain-god; and so in Nicaragua
the Rain-god Quiateot (Aztec quiahuitl = rain, teotl = god)
to whom children were sacrificed to bring rain, shows his
larger celestial nature by being also sender of thunder and
lightning.[#] The Rain-god of the Khonds is Pidzu Pennu,
whom the priests and elders propitiate with eggs and arrack
and rice and a sheep, and invoke with quaintly pathetic
prayers. They tell him how, if he will not give water, the
// File: 268.png
.pn +1
land must remain unploughed, the seed will rot in the
ground, they and their children and cattle will die of want,
the deer and the wild hog will seek other haunts, and then
of what avail will it be for the Rain-god to relent, how little
any gift of water will avail, when there shall be left neither
man, nor cattle, nor seed; so let him, resting on the sky,
pour waters down upon them through his sieve, till the deer
are drowned out of the forest and take refuge in the
houses, till the soil of the mountains is washed into the
valleys, till the cooking-pots burst with the force of the
swelling rice, till the beasts gather so plentifully in the
green and favoured land, that men’s axes shall be blunted
with cutting up the game.[#] With perfect meteorological
fitness, the Kol tribes of Bengal consider their great
deity Marang Buru, Great Mountain, to be the Rain-god.
Marang Buru, one of the most conspicuous hills of the
plateau near Lodmah in Chota-Nagpur, is the deity himself
or his dwelling. Before the rains come on, the women
climb the hill, led by the wives of the pahans, with girls
drumming, to carry offerings of milk and bel-leaves, which
are put on the flat rock at the top. Then the wives of the
pahans kneel with loosened hair and invoke the deity, beseeching
him to give the crops seasonable rain. They
shake their heads violently as they reiterate this prayer,
till they work themselves into a frenzy, and the movement
becomes involuntary. They go on thus wildly gesticulating,
till a cloud is seen; then they rise, take the drums,
and dance the kurrun on the rock, till Marang Buru’s response
to their prayer is heard in the distant rumbling of
thunder, and they go home rejoicing. They must go fasting
to the mount, and stay there till there is ‘a sound of
abundance of rain,’ when they get them down to eat
and drink. It is said that the rain always comes before
evening, but the old women appear to choose their
own moment for beginning the fast.[#] It was to Ukko the
// File: 269.png
.pn +1
Heaven-god, that in old days the Finn turned with such
prayers:—

.pm verse-start
‘Ukko, thou, O God above us
Thou, O Father in the heavens,
Thou who rulest in the cloud-land,
And the little cloud-lambs leadest,
Send us down the rain from heaven,
Make the clouds to drop with honey,
Let the drooping corn look upward,
Let the grain with plenty rustle.’[#]
.pm verse-end

Quite like this were the classic conceptions of <lang=grc>Ζεὺς ὑέτιος</lang>
<lang=la>Jupiter Pluvius</lang>. They are typified in the famous Athenian
prayer recorded by Marcus Aurelius, ‘Rain, rain, O dear
Zeus, on the plough-lands of the Athenians, and the
plains!’[#] and in Petronius Arbiter’s complaint of the
irreligion of his times, that now no one thinks heaven is
heaven, no one keeps a fast, no one cares a hair for Jove,
but all men with closed eyes reckon up their goods. Afore-time
the ladies walked up the hill in their stoles with bare
feet and loosened hair and pure minds, and entreated Jove
for water; then all at once it rained bucketsfull, then or
never, and they all went home wet as drowned rats.[#] In
later ages, when drought parched the fields of the mediæval
husbandman, he transferred to other patrons the functions
of the Rain-god, and with procession and litany sought
help from <abbr=Saint>St.</abbr> Peter or <abbr=Saint>St.</abbr> James, or, with more of mythological
consistency, from the Queen of Heaven. As for
ourselves, we have lived to see the time when men shrink
from addressing even to Supreme Deity the old customary
rain-prayers, for the rainfall is passing from the region of
the supernatural, to join the tides and seasons in the realm
of physical science.
// File: 270.png
.pn +1

The place of the Thunder-god in polytheistic religion is
similar to that of the Rain-god, in many cases even to
entire coincidence. But his character is rather of wrath
than of beneficence, a character which we have half lost the
power to realize, since the agonizing terror of the thunderstorm
which appals savage minds has dwindled away in
ours, now that we behold in it not the manifestation of
divine wrath, but the restoration of electric equilibrium.
North American tribes, as the Mandans, heard in the
thunder and saw in the lightning the clapping wings and
flashing eyes of that awful heaven-bird which belongs to, or
even is, the Great Manitu himself.[#] The Dacotas could
show at a place called Thunder-tracks, near the source of
the <abbr=Saint>St.</abbr> Peter’s River, the footprints of the thunder-bird
five and twenty miles apart. It is to be noticed that these
Sioux, among their varied fancies about thunder-birds and
the like, give unusually well a key to the great thunderbolt-myth
which recurs in so many lands. They consider the
lightning entering the ground to scatter there in all directions
thunderbolt-stones, which are flints, &c., their reason
for this notion being the very rational one, that these siliceous
stones actually produce a flash when struck.[#] In an account
of certain Carib deities, who were men and are now stars,
occurs the name of Savacou, who was changed into a great
bird; he is captain of the hurricane and thunder, he blows
fire through a tube and that is lightning, he gives the great
rain. Rochefort describes the effect of a thunderstorm on
the partly Europeanized Caribs of the West Indies two
centuries ago. When they perceive its approach, he says,
they quickly betake themselves to their cabins, and range
themselves in the kitchen on their little seats near the fire;
hiding their faces and leaning their heads in their hands
and on their knees, they fall to weeping and lamenting in
their jargon ‘Maboya mouche fache contre Caraïbe,’ i.e.,
// File: 271.png
.pn +1
Maboya (the evil demon) is very angry with the Caribs.
This they say also when there comes a hurricane, not leaving
off this dismal exercise till it is over, and there is no end to
their astonishment that the Christians on these occasions
manifest no such affliction and fear.[#] The Tupi tribes of
Brazil are an example of a race among whom the Thunder
or the Thunderer, Tupan, flapping his celestial wings and
flashing with celestial light, was developed into the very
representative of highest deity, whose name still stands
among their Christian descendants as the equivalent of
God.[#] In Peru, a mighty and far-worshipped deity was
Catequil the Thunder-god, child of the Heaven-god, he
who set free the Indian race from out of the ground by
turning it up with his golden spade, he who in thunder-flash
and clap hurls from his sling the small round smooth
thunderstones, treasured in the villages as fire-fetishes and
charms to kindle the flames of love. How distinct in personality
and high in rank was the Thunder and Lightning
(Chuqui yllayllapa) in the religion of the Incas, may be
judged from his huaca or fetish-idol standing on the bench
beside the idols of the Creator and the Sun at the great
Solar festival in Cuzco, when the beasts to be sacrificed were
led round them, and the priests prayed thus: ‘O Creator,
and Sun, and Thunder, be for ever young! do not grow old.
Let all things be at peace! let the people multiply, and their
food, and let all other things continue to increase.’[#]

In Africa, we may contrast the Zulu, who perceives in
thunder and lightning the direct action of Heaven or
Heaven’s lord, with the Yoruba, who assigns them not to
Olorun the Lord of Heaven, but to a lower deity, Shango
the Thunder-god, whom they call also Dzakuta the Stone-caster,
for it is he who (as among so many other peoples
// File: 272.png
.pn +1
who have forgotten their Stone Age) flings down from
heaven the stone hatchets which are found in the ground,
and preserved as sacred objects.[#] In the religion of the
Kamchadals, Billukai, the hem of whose garment is the
rainbow, dwells in the clouds with many spirits, and sends
thunder and lightning and rain.[#] Among the Ossetes of the
Caucasus the Thunderer is Ilya, in whose name mythologists
trace a Christian tradition of Elijah, whose fiery
chariot seems indeed to have been elsewhere identified with
that of the Thunder-god, while the highest peak of Ægina,
once the seat of Pan-hellenic Zeus, is now called Mount
<abbr=Saint>St.</abbr> Elias. Among certain Moslem schismatics, it is even
the historical Ali, cousin of Mohammed, who is enthroned
in the clouds, where the thunder is his voice, and the lightning
the lash wherewith he smites the wicked.[#] Among the
Turanian or Tatar race, the European branch shows most
distinctly the figure of the Thunder-god. To the Lapps,
Tiermes appears to have been the Heaven-god, especially
conceived as Aija the Thunder-god; of old they thought
the Thunder (Aija) to be a living being, hovering in the air
and hearkening to the talk of men, smiting such as spoke
of him in an unseemly way; or, as some said, the Thunder-god
is the foe of sorcerers, whom he drives from heaven
and smites, and then it is that men hear in thunder-peals
the hurtling of his arrows, as he speeds them from his
bow, the Rainbow. In Finnish poetry, likewise, Ukko
the Heaven-god is portrayed with such attributes. The
Runes call him Thunderer, he speaks through the clouds,
his fiery shirt is the lurid storm-cloud, men talk of his stones
and his hammer, he flashes his fiery sword and it lightens,
or he draws his mighty rainbow, Ukko’s bow, to shoot his
fiery copper arrows, wherewith men would invoke him to
// File: 273.png
.pn +1
smite their enemies. Or when it is dark in his heavenly
house he strikes fire, and that is lightning. To this day
the Finlanders call a thunderstorm an ‘ukko,’ or an ‘ukkonen,’
that is, ‘a little ukko,’ and when it lightens they
say, ‘There is Ukko striking fire!’[#]

What is the Aryan conception of the Thunder-god, but a
poetic elaboration of thoughts inherited from the savage
state through which the primitive Aryans had passed? The
Hindu Thunder-god is the Heaven-god Indra, Indra’s bow
is the rainbow, Indra hurls the thunderbolts, he smites his
enemies, he smites the dragon-clouds, and the rain pours
down on earth, and the sun shines forth again. The Veda
is full of Indra’s glories: ‘Now will I sing the feats of
Indra, which he of the thunderbolt did of old. He smote
Ahi, then he poured forth the waters; he divided the rivers
of the mountains. He smote Ahi by the mountain; Tvashtar
forged for him the glorious bolt.’—‘Whet, O strong
Indra, the heavy strong red weapon against the enemies!’—‘May
the axe (the thunderbolt) appear with the light;
may the red one blaze forth bright with splendour!’—‘When
Indra hurls again and again his thunderbolt,
then they believe in the brilliant god.’ Nor is Indra merely
a great god in the ancient Vedic pantheon, he is the very
patron-deity of the invading Aryan race in India, to whose
help they look in their conflicts with the dark-skinned tribes
of the land. ‘Destroying the Dasyus, Indra protected the
Aryan colour’—‘Indra protected in battle the Aryan
worshipper, he subdued the lawless for Manu, he conquered
the black skin.’[#] This Hindu Indra is the offspring of
Dyaus the Heaven. But in the Greek religion, Zeus is
himself Zeus Kerauneios, the wielder of the thunderbolt,
and thunders from the cloud-capped tops of Ida or Olympos.
In like manner the Jupiter Capitolinus of Rome is
himself Jupiter Tonans:
// File: 274.png
.pn +1

.pm verse-start
<lang=la>‘Ad penetrale Numæ, Capitolinumque Tonantem.’</lang>[#]
.pm verse-end

Thus, also, it was in accurate language that the old Slavonic
nations were described as adoring Jupiter Tonans as their
highest god. He was the cloud-dwelling Heaven-god, his
weapon the thunder-bolt, the lightning-flash, his name
Perun the Smiter (Perkun, Perkunas). In the Lithuanian
district, the thunder itself is Perkun; in past times the
peasant would cry when he heard the thunder peal ‘Dewe
Perkune apsaugog mus!—God Perkun spare us!’ and to
this day he says, ‘Perkunas gravja!—Perkun is thundering!’
or ‘Wezzajs barrahs!—the Old One growls!’[#] The
old German and Scandinavian theology made Thunder,
Donar, Thor, a special deity to rule the clouds and rain,
and hurl his crushing hammer through the air. He reigned
high in the Saxon heaven, till the days came when the
Christian convert had to renounce him in solemn form,
‘ec forsacho Thunare!—I forsake Thunder!’ Now, his
survival is for the most part in mere verbal form, in the
etymology of such names as Donnersberg, Thorwaldsen,
Thursday.[#]

In the polytheism of the lower as of the higher races,
the Wind-gods are no unknown figures. The Winds themselves,
and especially the Four Winds in their four regions,
take name and shape as personal divinities, while some
deity of wider range, a Wind-god, Storm-god, Air-god, or
the mighty Heaven-god himself, may stand as compeller or
controller of breeze and gale and tempest. We have
already taken as examples from the Algonquin mythology
of North America the four winds whose native legends
have been versified in ‘Hiawatha;’ Mudjekeewis the West
Wind, Father of the Winds of Heaven, and his children,
Wabun the East Wind, the morning-bringer, the lazy
Shawondasse the South Wind, the wild and cruel North
// File: 275.png
.pn +1
Wind, the fierce Kabibonokka. Viewed in their religious
aspect, these mighty beings correspond with four of the
great manitus sacrificed to among the Delawares, the West,
South, East, and North; while the Iroquois acknowledged
a deity of larger grasp, Gäoh, the Spirit of the Winds, who
holds them prisoned in the mountains in the Home of the
Winds.[#] The Polynesian Wind-gods are thus described by
Ellis: ‘The chief of these were Veromatautoru and Tairibu,
brother and sister to the children of Taaroa, their dwelling
was near the great rock, which was the foundation of the
world. Hurricanes, tempests, and all destructive winds,
were supposed to be confined within them, and were employed
by them to punish such as neglected the worship of
the gods. In stormy weather their compassion was sought
by the tempest-driven mariner at sea, or the friends of such
on shore. Liberal presents, it was supposed, would at any
time purchase a calm. If the first failed, subsequent ones
were certain of success. The same means were resorted to
for procuring a storm, but with less certainty. Whenever
the inhabitants of one island heard of invasion from those
of another, they immediately carried large offerings to these
deities, and besought them to destroy by tempest the hostile
fleet whenever it might put to sea. Some of the most
intelligent people still think evil spirits had formerly great
power over the winds, as they say there have been no such
fearful storms since they abolished idolatry, as there were
before.’ Or, again, the great deity Maui adds a new complication
to his enigmatic solar-celestial character by appearing
as a Wind-God. In Tahiti he was identified with the
East Wind; in New Zealand he holds all the winds but the
west in his hands, or he imprisons them with great stones
rolled to the mouths of their caves, save the West Wind
// File: 276.png
.pn +1
which he cannot catch or prison, so that it almost always
blows.[#] To the Kamchadal, it is Billukai the Heaven-god
who comes down and drives his sledge on earth, and men
see his traces in the wind-drifted snow.[#] To the Finn,
while there are traces of subordinate Wind-gods in his
mythology, the great ruler of wind and storm is Ukko the
Heaven-god;[#] while the Esth looked rather to Tuule-ema,
Wind’s Mother, and when the gale shrieks he will still say
‘Wind’s mother wails, who knows what mothers shall wail
next.’[#] Such instances from Allophylian mythology[#] show
types which are found developed in full vigour by the Aryan
races. In the Vedic hymns, the Storm Gods, the Maruts,
borne along with the fury of the boisterous winds, with the
rain-clouds distribute showers over the earth, make darkness
during the day, rend the trees and devour the forests
like wild elephants.[#] No effort of the Red Indian’s personifying
fancy in the tales of the dancing Pauppuk-keewis the
Whirlwind, or that fierce and shifty hero, Manabozho the
North-West Wind, can more than match the description in
the Iliad, of Achilles calling on Boreas and Zephyros with
libations and vows of sacrifice, to blow into a blaze the
funeral pyre of Patroklos—

.pm verse-start
                  ... his prayer
Swift Iris heard, and bore it to the Winds.
They in the hall of gusty Zephyrus
Were gathered round the feast; in haste appearing,
Swift Iris on the stony threshold stood.
They saw, and rising all, besought her each
To sit beside him; she with their requests
Refused compliance, and addressed them thus,’ &c.
.pm verse-end
// File: 277.png
.pn +1

Æolus with the winds imprisoned in his cave has the
office of the Red Indian Spirit of the Winds, and of the
Polynesian Maui. With quaint adaptation to nature-myth
and even to moral parable, the Harpies, the Storm-gusts
that whirl and snatch and dash and smirch with eddying
dust-clouds, become the loathsome bird-monsters sent to
hover over the table of Phineus to claw and defile his dainty
viands.[#] If we are to choose an Aryan Storm-god for ideal
grandeur, we must seek him in

.pm verse-start
          ‘... the hall where Runic Odin
Howls his war-song to the gale.’
.pm verse-end

Jakob Grimm has defined Odin or Woden as ‘the all-penetrating
creative and formative power.’ But such abstract
conceptions can hardly be ascribed to his barbaric
worshippers. As little may his real nature be discovered
among the legends which degrade him to a historical king
of Northern men, an ‘Othinus rex.’ See the All-father sitting
cloud-mantled on his heaven-seat, overlooking the deeds
of men, and we may discern in him the attributes of the
Heaven-god. Hear the peasant say of the raging tempest,
that it is ‘Odin faring by;’ trace the mythological transition
from Woden’s tempest to the ‘Wütende Heer,’ the
‘Wild Huntsman’ of our own grand storm-myth, and we
shall recognize the old Teutonic deity in his function of
cloud-compeller, of Tempest-god.[#] The ‘rude Carinthian
boor’ can show a relic from a yet more primitive stage of
mental history, when he sets up a wooden bowl of various
meats on a tree before his house, to fodder the wind that it
may do no harm. In Swabia, Tyrol, and the Upper Palatinate,
when the storm rages, they will fling a spoonful or
a handful of meal in the face of the gale, with this formula
in the last-named district, ‘Da Wind, hast du Mehl für
dein Kind, aber aufhören musst du!’[#]
// File: 278.png
.pn +1

The Earth-deity takes an important place in polytheistic
religion. The Algonquins would sing medicine-songs to
Mesukkummik Okwi, the Earth, the Great-Grandmother of
all. In her charge (and she must be ever at home in her
lodge) are left the animals whose flesh and skins are man’s
food and clothing, and the roots and medicines of sovereign
power to heal sickness and kill game in time of hunger;
therefore good Indians never dig up the roots of which
their medicines are made, without depositing an offering in
the earth for Mesukkummik Okwi.[#] In the list of fetish-deities
of Peruvian tribes, the Earth, adored as Mamapacha,
Mother Earth, took high subordinate rank below Sun and
Moon in the pantheon of the Incas, and at harvest-time
ground corn and libations of chicha were offered to her
that she might grant a good harvest.[#] Her rank is similar
in the Aquapim theology of West Africa; first the Highest
God in the firmament, then the Earth as universal mother,
then the fetish. The negro, offering his libation before
some great undertaking, thus calls upon the triad: ‘Creator,
come drink! Earth, come drink! Bosumbra, come
drink!’[#]

Among the indigenes of India, the Bygah tribes of
Seonee show a well-marked worship of the Earth. They
call her ‘Mother Earth’ or Dhurteemah, and before
praying or eating their food, which is looked on always as
a daily sacrifice, they invariably offer some of it to the
earth, before using the name of any other god.[#] Of all
religions of the world, perhaps that of the Khonds of Orissa
gives the Earth-goddess her most remarkable place and
function. Boora Pennu or Bella Pennu, the Light-god or
Sun-god, created Tari Pennu the Earth-goddess for his
// File: 279.png
.pn +1
consort, and from them were born the other great gods.
But strife arose between the mighty parents, and it became
the wife’s work to thwart the good creation of her husband,
and to cause all physical and moral ill. Thus to the Sun-worshipping
sect she stands abhorred on the bad eminence
of the Evil Deity. But her own sect, the Earth-worshipping
sect, seem to hold ideas of her nature which are more
primitive and genuine. The functions which they ascribe
to her, and the rites with which they propitiate her, display
her as the Earth-mother, raised by an intensely agricultural
race to an extreme height of divinity. It was she who with
drops of her blood made the soft muddy ground harden
into firm earth; thus men learnt to offer human victims,
and the whole earth became firm; the pastures and ploughed
fields came into use, and there were cattle and sheep and
poultry for man’s service; hunting began, and there were
iron and ploughshares and harrows and axes, and the
juice of the palm-tree; and love arose between the sons
and daughters of the people, making new households, and
society with its relations of father and mother, and wife
and child, and the bonds between ruler and subject. It
was the Khond Earth-goddess who was propitiated with
those hideous sacrifices, the suppression of which is
matter of recent Indian history. With dances and drunken
orgies, and a mystery play to explain in dramatic dialogue
the purpose of the rite, the priest offered Tari Pennu
her sacrifice, and prayed for children and cattle and
poultry and brazen pots and all wealth; every man and
woman wished a wish, and they tore the slave-victim
piecemeal, and spread the morsels over the fields they
were to fertilize.[#] In Northern Asia, also, among the
Tatar races, the office of the Earth-deity is strongly and
widely marked. Thus in the nature-worship of the
Tunguz and Buraets, Earth stands among the greater
divinities. It is especially interesting to notice among the
Finns a transition like that just observed from the god
// File: 280.png
.pn +1
Heaven to the Heaven-god. In the designation of Maaemä,
Earth-mother, given to the earth itself, there may be
traced survival from the stage of direct nature-worship, while
the passage to the conception of a divine being inhabiting
and ruling the material substance, is marked by the use of
the name Maan emo, Earth’s mother, for the ancient subterranean
goddess whom men would ask to make the grass
shoot thick and the thousandfold ears mount high, or might
even entreat to rise in person out of the earth to give them
strength. The analogy of other mythologies agrees with
the definition of the divine pair who reign in Finn theology:
as Ukko the Grandfather is the Heaven-god, so his spouse
Akka the Grandmother is the Earth-goddess.[#] Thus in
the ancient nature-worship of China, the personal Earth
holds a place below the Heaven. Tien and Tu are closely
associated in the national rites, and the idea of the pair
as universal parents, if not an original conception in
Chinese theology, is at any rate developed in Chinese
classic symbolism. Heaven and Earth receive their solemn
sacrifices not at the hands of common mortals but of the
Son of Heaven, the Emperor, and his great vassals and
mandarins. Yet their adoration is national; they are worshipped
by the people who offer incense to them on the
hill-tops at their autumn festival, they are adored by successful
candidates in competitive examination; and, especially
and appropriately, the prostration of bride and
bridegroom before the father and mother of all things, the
‘worshipping of Heaven and Earth,’ is the all-important
ceremony of a Chinese marriage.[#]

The Vedic hymns commemorate the goddess Prithivî, the
broad Earth, and in their ancient strophes the modern
Brahmans still pray for benefits to mother Earth and father
Heaven, side by side:—
// File: 281.png
.pn +1

.pm verse-start
<lang=sa>‘Tanno Vâto mayobhu vâtu bheshajam tanmâtâ Prithivî tatpitâ Dyauh.’</lang>[#]
.pm verse-end

Greek religion shows a transition to have taken place like
that among the Turanian tribes, for the older simpler
nature-deity Gaia, <lang=grc>Γῆ πάντων μήτηρ</lang>, Earth the All-Mother,
seems to have faded into the more anthropomorphic Dēmētēr,
Earth-Mother, whose eternal fire burned in Mantinēa,
and whose temples stood far and wide over the land
which she made kindly to the Greek husbandman.[#] The
Romans acknowledged her plain identity as Terra Mater,
Ops Mater.[#] Tacitus could rightly recognize this deity of
his own land among German tribes, worshippers of ‘Nerthum
(or, Hertham), <lang=la>id est Terram matrem</lang>,’ Mother Earth,
whose holy grove stood in an ocean isle, whose chariot
drawn by cows passed through the land making a season of
peace and joy, till the goddess, satiated with mortal conversation,
was taken back by her priest to her temple, and the
chariot and garments and even the goddess herself were
washed in a secret lake, which forthwith swallowed up the
ministering slaves—‘hence a mysterious terror and sacred
ignorance, what that should be which only the doomed to
perish might behold.’[#] If in these modern days we seek
in Europe traces of Earth-worship, we may find them in
curiously distinct survival in Germany, if no longer in the
Christmas food-offerings buried in and for the earth up to
early in this century,[#] at any rate among Gypsy hordes.
Dewel, the great god in heaven (dewa, deus), is rather
feared than loved by these weatherbeaten outcasts, for he
harms them on their wanderings with his thunder and
lightning, his snow and rain, and his stars interfere with
their dark doings. Therefore they curse him foully when
misfortune falls on them, and when a child dies, they say
that Dewel has eaten it. But Earth, Mother of all good,
// File: 282.png
.pn +1
self-existing from the beginning, is to them holy, so holy
that they take heed never to let the drinking-cup touch
the ground, for it would become too sacred to be used by
men.[#]

Water-worship, as has been seen, may be classified as a
special department of religion. It by no means follows,
however, that savage water-worshippers should necessarily
have generalized their ideas, and passed beyond their particular
water-deities to arrive at the conception of a general
deity presiding over water as an element. Divine springs,
streams, and lakes, water-spirits, deities concerned with the
clouds and rain, are frequent, and many details of them are
cited here, but I have not succeeded in finding among the
lower races any divinity whose attributes, fairly criticized,
will show him or her to be an original and absolute elemental
Water-god. Among the deities of the Dakotas,
Unktahe the fish-god of the waters is a master-spirit of
sorcery and religion, the rival even of the mighty Thunderbird.[#]
In the Mexican pantheon, Tlaloc god of rain and
waters, fertilizer of earth and lord of paradise, whose wife
is Chalchihuitlicue, Emerald-Skirt, dwells among the
mountain-tops where the clouds gather and pour down the
streams.[#] Yet neither of these mythic beings approaches
the generality of conception that belongs to full elemental
deity, and even the Greek Nēreus, though by his name he
should be the very personification of water (νηρός), seems
too exclusively marine in his home and family to be cited
as the Water-god. Nor is the reason of this hard to find.
It is an extreme stretch of the power of theological generalization
to bring water in its myriad forms under one
divinity, though each individual body of water, even the
smallest stream or lake, can have its personal individuality
or indwelling spirit.
// File: 283.png
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Islanders and coast-dwellers indeed live face to face with
mighty water-deities, the divine Sea and the great Sea-gods.
What the sea may seem to an uncultured man who first
beholds it, we may learn among the Lampongs of Sumatra:
‘The inland people of that country are said to pay a kind
of adoration to the sea, and to make to it an offering of
cakes and sweetmeats on their beholding it for the first
time, deprecating its power of doing them mischief.’[#] The
higher stage of such doctrine is where the sea, no longer
itself personal, is considered as ruled by indwelling spirits.
Thus Tuaraatai and Ruahatu, principal among marine
deities of Polynesia, send the sharks to execute their vengeance.
Hiro descends to the depths of the ocean and
dwells among the monsters, they lull him to sleep in a
cavern, the Wind-god profits by his absence to raise a
violent storm to destroy the boats in which Hiro’s friends
are sailing, but, roused by a friendly spirit-messenger, the
Sea-god rises to the surface and quells the tempest.[#] This
South Sea Island myth might well have been in the Odyssey.
We may point to the Guinea Coast as a barbaric region
where Sea-worship survives in its extremest form. It appears
from Bosman’s account, about 1700, that in the
religion of Whydah, the Sea ranked only as younger brother
in the three divine orders, below the Serpents and
Trees. But at present, as appears from Captain Burton’s
evidence, the religion of Whydah extends through Dahome,
and the divine Sea has risen in rank. ‘The youngest
brother of the triad is Hu, the ocean or sea. Formerly it
was subject to chastisement, like the Hellespont, if idle or
useless. The Huno, or ocean priest, is now considered the
highest of all, a fetish king, at Whydah, where he has 500
wives. At stated times he repairs to the beach, begs ‘Agbwe,’
the ... ocean god, not to be boisterous, and throws
in rice and corn, oil and beans, cloth, cowries, and other valuables....
At times the king sends as an ocean sacrifice
// File: 284.png
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from Agbome a man carried in a hammock, with the dress,
the stool, and the umbrella of a caboceer; a canoe takes
him out to sea, where he is thrown to the sharks.’[#] While
in these descriptions the individual divine personality of the
sea is so well marked, an account of the closely related
Slave Coast religion states that a great god dwells in the
sea, and it is to him, not to the sea itself, that offerings
are cast in.[#] In South America the idea of the divine
Sea is clearly marked in the Peruvian worship of Mamacocha,
Mother Sea, giver of food to men.[#] Eastern Asia,
both in its stages of lower and higher civilization, contributes
members to the divine group. In Kamchatka, Mitgk
the Great Spirit of the Sea, fish-like himself, sends the fish
up the rivers.[#] Japan deifies separately on land and at sea
the lords of the waters; Midsuno Kami, the Water-god, is
worshipped during the rainy season; Jebisu, the Sea-god, is
younger brother of the Sun.[#]

Among barbaric races we thus find two conceptions
current, the personal divine Sea and the anthropomorphic
Sea-god. These represent two stages of development of
one idea—the view of the natural object as itself an animated
being, and the separation of its animating fetish-soul
as a distinct spiritual deity. To follow the enquiry into
classic times shows the same distinction as strongly marked.
When Kleomenes marched down to Thyrea, having slaughtered
a bull to the sea (<lang=grc>σφαγιασάμενος δέ τῇ θαλάσσῃ ταῦρον</lang>)
he embarked his army in ships for the Tirynthian land and
Nauplia.[#] Cicero makes Cotta remark to Balbus that ‘our
generals, embarking on the sea, have been accustomed to
immolate a victim to the waves,’ and he goes on to argue,
// File: 285.png
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not unfairly, that if the Earth herself is a goddess, what is
she other than Tellus, and ‘if the Earth, the Sea too,
whom thou saidst to be Neptune.’[#] Here is direct nature-worship
in its extremest sense of fetish-worship. But in
the anthropomorphic stage appear that dim præ-Olympian
figure of Nēreus the Old Man of the Sea, father of the Nereids
in their ocean caves, and the Homeric Poseidōn the
Earth-shaker, who stables his coursers in his cave in the
Ægean deeps, who harnesses the gold-maned steeds to his
chariot and drives through the dividing waves, while the
subject sea-beasts come up at the passing of their lord, a
king so little bound to the element he governs, that he can
come from the brine to sit in the midst of the gods in the
assembly on Olympos, and ask the will of Zeus.[#]

Fire-worship brings into view again, though under different
aspects and with different results, the problems presented
by water-worship. The real and absolute worship
of fire falls into two great divisions, the first belonging
rather to fetishism, the second to polytheism proper, and
the two apparently representing an earlier and later stage of
theological ideas. The first is the rude barbarian’s adoration
of the actual flame which he watches writhing, roaring,
devouring like a live animal; the second belongs to an advanced
generalization, that any individual fire is a manifestation
of one general elemental being—the Fire-god.
Unfortunately, evidence of the exact meaning of fire-worship
among the lower races is scanty, while the transition from
fetishism to polytheism seems a gradual process of which
the stages elude close definition. Moreover, it must be
borne in mind that rites performed with fire are, though
often, yet by no means necessarily, due to worship of the
fire itself. Authors who have indiscriminately mixed up
such rites as the new fire, the perpetual fire, the passing
// File: 286.png
.pn +1
through the fire, classing them as acts of fire-worship, without
proper evidence as to their meaning in any particular
case, have added to the perplexity of a subject not too easy
to deal with, even under strict precautions. Two sources
of error are especially to be noted. On the one hand, fire
happens to be a usual means whereby sacrifices are transmitted
to departed souls and deities in general; and on the
other hand, the ceremonies of earthly fire-worship are habitually
and naturally transferred to celestial fire-worship in
the religion of the Sun.

It may best serve the present purpose to carry a line of
some of the best-defined facts which seems to bear on fire-worship
proper, from savagery on into the higher culture.
In the last century, Loskiel, a missionary among the North
American Indians, remarks that ‘In great danger, an
Indian has been observed to lie prostrate on his face, and
throwing a handful of tobacco into the fire, to call aloud, as
in an agony of distress, “There, take and smoke, be pacified,
and don’t hurt me.”’ Of course this may have been
a mere sacrifice transmitted to some other spiritual being
through fire, but we have in this region explicit statements
as to a distinct fire-deity. The Delawares, it appears from
the same author, acknowledged the Fire-manitu, first parent
of all Indian nations, and celebrated a yearly festival in his
honour, when twelve manitus, animal and vegetable, attended
him as subordinate deities.[#] In North-West America,
in Washington Irving’s account of the Chinooks and other
Columbia River Tribes, mention is made of the spirit which
inhabits fire. Powerful both for evil and good, and seemingly
rather evil than good in nature, this being must be
kept in good humour by frequent offerings. The Fire-spirit
has great influence with the winged aërial supreme deity,
wherefore the Indians implore him to be their interpreter,
to procure them success in hunting and fishing, fleet horses,
obedient wives, and male children.[#] In the elaborately
// File: 287.png
.pn +1
systematic religion of Mexico, there appears in his proper
place a Fire-god, closely related to the Sun-god in character,
but keeping well marked his proper identity. His name
was Xiuhteuctli, Fire-lord, and they called him likewise
Huehueteotl, the old god. Great honour was paid to this
god Fire, who gives them heat, and bakes their cakes, and
roasts their meat. Therefore at every meal the first morsel
and libation were cast into the fire, and every day the deity
had incense burnt to him. Twice in the year were held his
solemn festivals. At the first, a felled tree was set up in
his honour, and the sacrificers danced round his fire with
the human victims, whom afterwards they cast into a great
fire, only to drag them out half roasted for the priests to
complete the sacrifice. The second was distinguished by
the rite of the new fire, so well known in connexion with
solar worship; the friction-fire was solemnly made before
the image of Xiuhteuctli in his sanctuary in the court of
the great teocalli, and the game brought in at the great
hunt which began the festival was cooked at the sacred
fire for the banquets that ended it.[#] Polynesia well knows
from the mythological point of view Mahuika the Fire-god,
who keeps the volcano-fire on his subterranean hearth,
whither Maui goes down (as the Sun into the Underworld)
to bring up fire for man; but in the South Sea islands
there is scarcely a trace of actual rites of fire-worship.[#] In
West Africa, among the gods of Dahome is Zo the fire-fetish;
a pot of fire is placed in a room, and sacrifice is
offered to it, that fire may ‘live’ there, and not go forth
to destroy the house.[#]

Asia is a region where distinct fire-worship may be peculiarly
well traced through the range of lower and higher
civilization. The rude Kamchadals, worshipping all things
// File: 288.png
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that did them harm or good, worshipped the fire, offering
to it noses of foxes and other game, so that one might tell
by looking at furs whether they had been taken by baptized
or heathen hunters.[#] The Ainos of Yesso worship Abe kamui
the Fire-deity as the benefactor of men, the messenger to
the other gods, the purifier who heals the sick.[#] Turanian
tribes likewise hold fire a sacred element, many Tunguz, Mongol,
and Turk tribes sacrifice to Fire, and some clans will not
eat meat without first throwing a morsel upon the hearth.
The following passage is from a Mongol wedding-song to
the personified Fire, ‘Mother Ut, Queen of Fire, thou who
art made from the elm that grows on the mountain-tops of
Changgai-Chan and Burchatu-Chan, thou who didst come
forth when heaven and earth divided, didst come forth from
the footsteps of Mother Earth, and wast formed by the
King of Gods. Mother Ut, whose father is the hard steel,
whose mother is the flint, whose ancestors are the elm-trees,
whose shining reaches to the sky and pervades the earth.
Goddess Ut, we bring thee yellow oil for offering, and a
white wether with yellow head, thou who hast a manly son,
a beauteous daughter-in-law, bright daughters. To thee,
Mother Ut, who ever lookest upward, we bring brandy in
bowls, and fat in both hands. Give prosperity to the
King’s son (the bridegroom), to the King’s daughter (the
bride), and to all the people!’[#] As an analogue to
Hephaistos the Greek divine smith, may stand the Circassian
Fire-god, Tleps, patron of metal-workers, and the
peasants whom he has provided with plough and hoe.[#]

Among the most ancient cultured nations of the Old
World, Egyptians, Babylonians, Assyrians, accounts of fire-worship
are absent, or so scanty and obscure that their
// File: 289.png
.pn +1
study is more valuable in compiling the history than in
elucidating the principles of religion.[#] For this scientific
purpose, the more full and minute documents of Aryan
religion can give a better answer. In various forms and
under several names, the Fire-god is known. Nowhere
does he carry his personality more distinctly than under
his Sanskrit name of Agni, a word which keeps its quality,
though not his divinity, in the Latin ‘ignis.’ The name
of Agni is the first word of the first hymn of the Rig-Veda:
‘Agnim île puro-hitam yajnasya devam ritvijam!—Agni I
entreat, divine appointed priest of sacrifice!’ The sacrifices
which Agni receives go to the gods, he is the mouth
of the gods, but he is no lowly minister, as it is said in
another hymn:

.pm verse-start
‘No god indeed, no mortal is beyond the might of thee, the mighty one, with the Maruts come hither, O Agni!’
.pm verse-end

Such the mighty Agni is among the gods, yet he comes
within the peasant’s cottage to be protector of the domestic
hearth. His worship has survived the transformation of the
ancient patriarchal Vedic religion of nature into the priest-ridden
Hinduism of our own day. In India there may yet be
found the so-called Fire-priests (Agnihotri) who perform according
to Vedic rite the sacrifices entitling the worshippers
to heavenly life. The sacred fire-drill for churning the
new fire by friction of wood (arani) is used so that Agni
still is new-born of the twirling fire-sticks, and receives
the melted butter of the sacrifice.[#] Among the records of
fire-worship in Asia, is the account of Jonas Hanways’s
‘Travels,’ dating from about 1740, of the everlasting fire
at the burning wells near Baku, on the Caspian. At the
sacred spot stood several ancient stone temples, mostly
arched vaults 10 to 15 feet high. One little temple was
// File: 290.png
.pn +1
still used for worship, near the altar of which, about
three feet high, a large hollow cane conveyed the gas up
from the ground, burning at the mouth with a blue flame.
Here were generally forty or fifty poor devotees, come on
pilgrimage from their country to make expiation for themselves
and others, and subsisting on wild celery, &c. These
pilgrims are described as marking their foreheads with
saffron, and having great veneration for a red cow; they
wore little clothing, and the holiest of them kept one arm
on their heads, or continued unmoved in some other posture;
they are described as Ghebers, or Gours, the usual
Moslem term for Fire-worshippers.[#]

In general, this name of Ghebers is applied to the
Zoroastrians or Parsis, whom a modern European would all
but surely point to if asked to instance a modern race of
Fire-worshippers. Classical accounts of the Persian religion
set down fire-worship as part and parcel of it; the
Magi, it is recorded, hold the gods to be Fire and Earth
and Water; and again, the Persians reckon the Fire to be
a god (<lang=grc>θεοφοροῦσιν</lang>).[#] On the testimony of the old religious
books of the Parsis themselves, Fire, as the greatest Ized,
as giver of increase and health, as craving for wood and
scents and fat, seems to take the distinctest divine personality.
Their doctrine that Ardebehist, the presiding
angel or spirit of fire, is adored, but not the material object
he belongs to, is a perfect instance of the development of
the idea of an elemental divinity from that of an animated
fetish. When, driven by Moslem persecution from Persia,
Parsi exiles landed in Gujarat, they described their religion
in an official document as being the worship of Agni
or Fire, thus claiming for themselves a place among recognized
Hindu sects.[#] In modern times, though for the most
part the Parsis have found toleration and prosperity in
// File: 291.png
.pn +1
India, yet an oppressed remnant of the race still keeps up
the everlasting fires at Yezd and Kirman, in their old Persian
land. The modern Parsis, as in Strabo’s time, scruple
to defile the fire or blow it with their breath, they abstain
from smoking out of regard not to themselves but to the
sacred element, and they keep up consecrated ever-burning
fires before which they do worship. Nevertheless, Prof.
Max Müller is able to say of the Parsis of our own day:
‘The so-called Fire-worshippers certainly do not worship
the fire, and they naturally object to a name which seems
to place them on a level with mere idolators. All they
admit is, that in their youth they are taught to face some
luminous object while worshipping God, and that they
regard the fire, like other great natural phenomena, as an
emblem of the Divine power. But they assure us that they
never ask assistance or blessings from an unintelligent
material object, nor is it even considered necessary to turn
the face to any emblem whatever in praying to Ormuzd.’[#]
Now, admitting this view of fire-worship as true of the more
intelligent Parsis, and leaving aside the question how far
among the more ignorant this symbolism may blend (as in
such cases is usual) into actual adoration, we may ask what
is the history of ceremonies which thus imitate, yet are not,
fire-worship. The ethnographic answer is clear and instructive.
The Parsi is the descendant of a race in this respect
represented by the modern Hindu, a race who did simply
and actually worship Fire. Fire-worship still forms a link
historically connecting the Vedic with the Zoroastrian
ritual; for the Agnishtoma or praise of Agni the Fire,
where four goats are to be sacrificed and burnt, is represented
by the Yajishn ceremony, where the Parsi priests
are now content to put some hair of an ox in a vessel and
show it to the Fire. But the development of the more
philosophic Zarathustrian doctrines has led to a result common
in the history of religion, that the ancient distinctly
// File: 292.png
.pn +1
meant rite has dwindled to a symbol, to be preserved with
changed sense in a new theology.

Somewhat of the same kind may have taken place among
the European race who seem in some respects the closest
relatives of the old Persians. Slavonic history possibly
keeps up some trace of direct and absolute fire-worship, as
where in Bohemia the Pagans are described as worshipping
fires, groves, trees, stones. But though the Lithuanians
and Old Prussians and Russians are among the nations
whose especial rite it was to keep up sacred everlasting fires,
yet it seems that their fire-rites were in the symbolic stage,
ceremonies of their great celestial-solar religion, rather than
acts of direct worship to a Fire-god.[#] Classical religion,
on the other hand, brings prominently into view the special
deities of fire. Hēphaistos, Vulcan, the divine metallurgist
who had his temples on Ætna and Lipari, stands in especial
connexion with the subterranean volcanic fire, and combines
the nature of the Polynesian Mahuika and the Circassian
Tleps. The Greek Hestia, the divine hearth, the ever-virgin
venerable goddess, to whom Zeus gave fair office
instead of wedlock, sits in the midst of the house, receiving
fat:—

.pm verse-start
<lang=grc>‘Τῇ δὲ πατὴρ Ζεὺς δῶκε καλὸν γέρας ἀντὶ γάμοιο,</lang>
<lang=grc>Καί τε μέσῳ οἴκῳ κατ’ ἄρ’ ἔζετο πῖαρ ἑλοῦσα.’</lang>
.pm verse-end

In the high halls of gods and men she has her everlasting
seat, and without her are no banquets among mortals, for
to Hestia first and last is poured the honey-sweet wine:—

.pm verse-start
<lang=grc>‘Ἐστίη, ἣ πάντων ἐν δώμασιν ὑψηλοῖσιν</lang>
<lang=grc>Ἀθανάτων τε θεῶν χαμαὶ ἐρχομένων τ’ ἀνθρώπων</lang>
<lang=grc>Ἔδρην ἀίδιον ἔλαχε, πρεσβηίδα τιμὴν,</lang>
<lang=grc>Καλὸν ἔχουσα γέρας καὶ τίμιον· οὐ γὰρ ἄτερ σοῦ</lang>
<lang=grc>Εἰλαπίναι θνητοῖσιν, ἵν’ οὐ πρῶτῃ πυμάτῃ τε</lang>
<lang=grc>Ἑστίῃ ἀρχόμενος σπένδει μελιηδέα οἶνον.’</lang>[#]
.pm verse-end

In Greek civil life, Hestia sat in house and assembly as
// File: 293.png
.pn +1
representative of domestic and social order. Like her in
name and origin, but not altogether in development, is
Vesta with her ancient Roman cultus, and her retinue of
virgins to keep up her pure eternal fire in her temple, needing
no image, for she herself dwelt within:—

.pm verse-start
<lang=la>‘Esse diu stultus Vestæ simulacra putavi:</lang>
  <lang=la>Mox didici curvo nulla subesse tholo.</lang>
<lang=la>Ignis inextinctus templo celatur in illo.</lang>
  <lang=la>Effigiem nullam Vesta nec ignis habet.’</lang>[#]
.pm verse-end

The last lingering relics of fire-worship in Europe reach us,
as usual, both through Turanian and Aryan channels of
folklore. The Esthonian bride consecrates her new hearth
and home by an offering of money cast into the fire, or laid
on the oven for Tule-ema, Fire-mother.[#] The Carinthian
peasant will ‘fodder’ the fire to make it kindly, and throw
lard or dripping to it, that it may not burn his house. To
the Bohemian it is a godless thing to spit into the fire,
‘God’s fire’ as he calls it. It is not right to throw away
the crumbs after a meal, for they belong to the fire. Of
every kind of dish some should be given to the fire, and if
some runs over it is wrong to scold, for it belongs to the
fire. It is because these rites are now so neglected that
harmful fires so often break out.[#]

What the Sea is to Water-worship, in some measure the
Sun is to Fire-worship. From the doctrines and rites of
earthly fire, various and ambiguous in character, generalized
from many phenomena, applied to many purposes, we pass
to the religion of heavenly fire, whose great deity has a
perfect definiteness from his embodiment in one great individual
fetish, the Sun.

Rivalling in power and glory the all-encompassing Heaven,
the Sun moves eminent among the deities of nature, no
mere cosmic globe affecting distant material worlds by force
// File: 294.png
.pn +1
in the guise of light and heat and gravity, but a living
reigning Lord:—

.pm verse-start
‘O thou, that with surpassing glory crown’d,
Look’st from thy sole dominion like the God
Of this new world.’
.pm verse-end

It is no exaggeration to say, with Sir William Jones, that
one great fountain of all idolatry in the four quarters of the
globe was the veneration paid by men to the sun: it is no
more than an exaggeration to say with Mr. Helps of the
sun-worship in Peru, that it was inevitable. Sun-worship is
by no means universal among the lower races of mankind,
but manifests itself in the upper levels of savage religion
in districts far and wide over the earth, often assuming the
prominence which it keeps and develops in the faiths of
the barbaric world. Why some races are sun-worshippers
and others not, is indeed too hard a question to answer in
general terms. Yet one important reason is obvious, that
the Sun is not so evidently the god of wild hunters and
fishers, as of the tillers of the soil, who watch him day by
day giving or taking away their wealth and their very life.
On the geographical significance of sun-worship, D’Orbigny
has made a remark, suggestive if not altogether sound,
connecting the worship of the sun not so much with the
torrid regions where his glaring heat oppresses man all day
long, and drives him to the shade for refuge, as with
climates where his presence is welcomed for his life-giving
heat, and nature chills at his departure. Thus while the
low sultry forests of South America show little prominence
of Sun-worship, this is the dominant organized cultus of
the high table-lands of Peru and Cundinamarca.[#] The
theory is ingenious, and if not carried too far may often be
supported. We may well compare the feelings with which
the sun-worshipping Massagetæ of Tartary must have
sacrificed their horses to the deity who freed them from the
miseries of winter, with the thoughts of men in those burning
// File: 295.png
.pn +1
lands of Central Africa where, as Sir Samuel Baker
says, ‘the rising of the sun is always dreaded ... the sun
is regarded as the common enemy,’ words which recall
Herodotus’ old description of the Atlantes or Atarantes who
dwelt in the interior of Africa, who cursed the sun at his
rising, and abused him with shameful epithets for afflicting
them with his burning heat, them and their land.[#]

The details of Sun-worship among the native races of
America give an epitome of its development among mankind
at large. Among many of the ruder tribes of the
northern continent, the Sun is looked upon as one of the
great deities, as representative of the greatest deity, or as
that greatest deity himself. Indian chiefs of Hudson’s Bay
smoked thrice to the rising sun. In Vancouver Island men
pray in time of need to the sun as he mounts toward the
zenith. Among the Delawares the sun received sacrifice as
second among the twelve great manitus; the Virginians
bowed before him with uplifted hands and eyes as he rose
and set; the Pottawatomis would climb sometimes at sunrise
on their huts, to kneel and offer to the luminary a mess
of Indian corn; his likeness is found representing the
Great Manitu in Algonquin picture-writings. Father Hennepin,
whose name is well known to geologists as the
earliest visitor to the Falls of Niagara, about 1678, gives
an account of the native tribes, Sioux and others, of this
far-west region. He describes them as venerating the Sun,
‘which they recognize, though only in appearance, as the
Maker and Preserver of all things;’ to him first they offer
the calumet when they light it, and to him they often
present the best and most delicate of their game in the lodge
of the chief, ‘who profits more by it than the Sun.’ The
Creeks regarded the Sun as symbol or minister of the Great
Spirit, sending toward him the first puff of the calumet at
treaties, and bowing reverently toward him in confirming
their council talk or haranguing their warriors to battle.[#]
// File: 296.png
.pn +1
Among the rude Botocudos of Brazil, the idea of the Sun
as the great good deity seems not unknown; the Araucanians
are described as bringing offerings to him as highest
deity; the Puelches as ascribing to the sun, and praying to
him for, all good things they possess or desire; the Diaguitas
of Tucuman as having temples dedicated to the Sun,
whom they adored, and to whom they consecrated birds’
feathers, which they then brought back to their cabins, and
sprinkled from time to time with the blood of animals.[#]

Such accounts of Sun-worship appearing in the lower
native culture of America, may be taken to represent its
first stage. It is on the whole within distinctly higher culture
that its second stage appears, where it has attained to
full development of ritual and appurtenance, and become in
some cases even the central doctrine of national religion
and statecraft. Sun-worship had reached this level among
the Natchez of Louisiana, with whom various other tribes of
this district stood in close relation. Every morning at sunrise
the great Sun-chief stood at the house-door facing the
east, shouted and prostrated himself thrice, and smoked
first toward the sun, and then toward the other three
quarters. The Sun-temple was a circular hut some thirty
feet across and dome-roofed: here in the midst was kept up
the everlasting fire, here prayer was offered thrice daily, and
here were kept images and fetishes and the bones of dead
chiefs. The Natchez government was a solar hierarchy.
At its head stood the great chief, called the Sun or the
// File: 297.png
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Sun’s brother, high priest and despot over his people. By
his side stood his sister or nearest female relative, the
female chief who of all women was alone permitted to
enter the Sun-temple. Her son, after the custom of female
succession common among the lower races, would succeed
to the primacy and chiefship; and the solar family took to
themselves, wives and husbands from the plebeian order,
who were their inferiors in life, and were slain to follow them
as attendants in death.[#] Another nation of sun-worshippers
were the Apalaches of Florida, whose daily service was
to salute the Sun at their doors as he rose and set. The
Sun, they said, had built his own conical mountain of
Olaimi, with its spiral path leading to the cave-temple, in
the east side. Here, at the four solar festivals, the
worshippers saluted the rising sun with chants and incense
as his rays entered the sanctuary, and again when at midday
the sunlight poured down upon the altar through the
hole or shaft pierced for this purpose in the rocky vault of
the cave; through this passage the sun-birds, the tonatzuli,
were let fly up sunward as messengers, and the ceremony
was over.[#] Day by day, in the temples of Mexico,
the rising sun was welcomed with blast of horns, and
incense, and offering of a little of the officiators’ own blood
drawn from their ears, and a sacrifice of quails. Saying,
the Sun has risen, we know not how he will fulfil his
course nor whether misfortune will happen, they prayed to
him—‘Our Lord, do your office prosperously.’ In distinct
and absolute personality, the divine Sun in Aztec
theology was Tonatiuh, whose huge pyramid-mound stands
on the plain of Teotihuacan, a witness of his worship for
future ages. Beyond this, the religion of Mexico, in its
complex system or congeries of great gods, such as results
from the mixture and alliance of the deities of several
nations, shows the solar element rooted deeply and widely
in other personages of its divine mythology, and attributes
// File: 298.png
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especially to the Sun the title of Teotl, God.[#] Again,
the high plateau of Bogota in New Granada was the seat
of the semi-civilized Chibchas or Muyscas, of whose mythology
and religion the leading ideas were given by the
Sun. The Sun was the great deity to whom the human
sacrifices were offered, and especially the holiest sacrifice,
the blood of a pure captive youth daubed on a rock on a
mountain-top for the rising sun to shine on. In native
Muysca legend, the mythic civilizer of the land, the teacher
of agriculture, the founder of the theocracy and institutor
of sun-worship, is a figure in whom we cannot fail to
discern the personal Sun himself.[#] It is thus, lastly, in
the far more celebrated native theocracy to the south. In
the royal religion of Peru, the Sun was at once ancestor
and founder of the dynasty of Incas, who reigned as his
representatives and almost in his person, who took wives
from the convent of virgins of the Sun, and whose descendants
were the solar race, the ruling aristocracy. The
Sun’s innumerable flocks of llamas grazed on the mountains,
and his fields were tilled in the valleys, his temples stood
throughout the land, and first among them the ‘Place of
Gold’ in Cuzco, where his new fire was kindled at the
annual solar festival of Raymi, and where his splendid
golden disc with human countenance looked forth to receive
the first rays of its divine original. Sun-worship was
ancient in Peru, but it was the Incas who made it the great
state religion, imposing it wherever their wide conquests
reached, till it became the central idea of Peruvian life.[#]
// File: 299.png
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The culture of the Old World never surpassed this highest
range of Sun-worship in the New.

In Australia and Polynesia the place of the solar god or
hero is rather in myth than in religion. In Africa, though
found in some districts,[#] Sun-worship is not very conspicuous
out of Egypt. In tracing its Old World development,
we begin among the ruder Allophylian tribes of Asia,
and end among the great polytheistic nations. The northeast
quarter of India shows the doctrine well defined among
the indigenous stocks. The Bodo and Dhimal place the Sun
in the pantheon as an elemental god, though in practical
rank below the sacred rivers.[#] The Kol tribes of Bengal,
Mundas, Oraons, Santals, know and worship as supreme,
Sing-bonga, the Sun-god; to him some tribes offer white
animals in token of his purity, and while not regarding him
as author of sickness or calamity, they will resort to him
when other divine aid breaks down in sorest need.[#] Among
the Khonds, Bura Pennu the Light-god, or Bella Pennu
the Sun-god, is creator of all things in heaven and earth,
and great first cause of good. As such, he is worshipped
by his own sect above the ranks of minor deities whom he
brought into being to carry out the details of the universal
work.[#] The Tatar tribes with much unanimity recognize as
a great god the Sun, whose figure may be seen beside the
Moon’s on their magic drums, from Siberia to Lapland.
Castrén, the ethnologist, speaking of the Samoyed expression
for heaven or deity in general (jilibeambaertje), tells an
anecdote from his travels, which gives a lively idea of the
thorough simple nature-religion still possible to the wanderers
of the steppes. ‘A Samoyed woman,’ he says, ‘told
me it was her habit every morning and evening to step out
of her tent and bow down before the sun; in the morning
// File: 300.png
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saying, “When thou Jilibeambaertje risest, I too rise from
my bed!” in the evening, “When thou Jilibeambaertje sinkest
down, I too get me to rest!” The woman brought this as a
proof of her assertion that even among the Samoyeds they
said their morning and evening prayers, but she added with
pity that “there were also among them wild people who never
sent up a prayer to God.”’ Mongol hordes may still be met
with whose shamans invoke the Sun, and throw milk up
into the air as an offering to him, while the Karagas Tatars
would bring to him as a sacrifice the head and heart of
bear or stag. Tunguz, Ostyaks, Woguls, worship him in a
character blending with that of their highest deity and
Heaven-god; while among the Lapps, Baiwe the Sun,
though a mighty deity, stood in rank below Tiermes the
Thunder-god, and the great celestial ruler who had come to
bear the Norwegian name of Storjunkare.[#]

In direct personal nature-worship like that of Siberian
nomades of our day, the solar cultus of the ancient pastoral
Aryans had its source. The Vedic bards sing of the great
god Sûrya, knower of beings, the all-revealer before whom
the stars depart with the nights like thieves. We approach
Sûrya (they say) shining god among the gods, light most
glorious. He shines on the eight regions, the three worlds,
the seven rivers; the golden-handed Savitar, all-seeing,
goes between heaven and earth. To him they pray, ‘On
thy ancient paths, O Savitar, dustless, well made, in the
air, on those good-going paths this day preserve us and
bless us, O God!’ Modern Hinduism is full of the
ancient Sun-worship, in offerings and prostrations, in daily
rites and appointed festivals, and it is Savitar the Sun
who is invoked in the ‘gâyatrî,’ the time-honoured formula
repeated day by day since long-past ages by every Brahman:
<lang=sa>‘Tat Savitur varenyam bhargo devasya dhîmahi
// File: 301.png
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dhiyo yo nah prakodayât.</lang>—Let us meditate on the desirable
light of the divine Sun; may he rouse our minds!’ Every
morning the Brahman worships the sun, standing on one
foot and resting the other against his ankle or heel, looking
towards the east, holding his hands open before him in a
hollow form, and repeating to himself these prayers: ‘The
rays of light announce the splendid fiery sun, beautifully
rising to illumine the universe.’—‘He rises, wonderful, the
eye of the sun, of water, and of fire, collective power of
gods; he fills heaven, earth, and sky with his luminous net;
he is the soul of all that is fixed or locomotive.’—‘That
eye, supremely beneficial, rises pure from the east; may we
see him a hundred years; may we live a hundred years;
may we hear a hundred years.’—‘May we, preserved by
the divine power, contemplating heaven above the region of
darkness, approach the deity, most splendid of luminaries!’[#]
A Vedic celestial deity, Mitra the Friend, came to be developed
in the Persian religion into that great ruling divinity
of light, the victorious Mithra, lord of life and head of all
created beings. The ancient Persian Mihr-Yasht invokes
him in the character of the sun-light, Mithra with wide
pastures, whom the lords of the regions praise at early dawn,
who as the first heavenly Yazata rises over Hara-berezaiti
before the sun, the immortal with swift steeds, who first
with golden form seizes the fair summits, then surrounds
the whole Aryan region. Mithra came to be regarded as
the very Sun, as where Dionysos addresses the Tyrian Bel,
<lang=grc>‘εἴτε σὺ Μίθρης Ηέλιος Βαβυλῶνος.’</lang> His worship spread
from the East across the Roman empire, and in Europe he
takes rank among the great solar gods absolutely identified
with the personal Sun, as in this inscription on a Roman
altar dating from Trajan’s time—<lang=la>‘Deo Soli Mithræ.’</lang>[#]
// File: 302.png
.pn +1
The earlier Sun-worship of Europe, upon which this new
Oriental variety was intruded, in certain of its developments
shows the same clear personality. The Greek Helios, to
whom horses were sacrificed on the mountain-top of Taugetos,
was that same personal Sun to whom Sokrates, when
he had staid rapt in thought till daybreak, offered a prayer
before he departed (<lang=grc>ἔπειτ’ ὤχετ’ ἀπιὼν προσευξάμενος τῷ ἡλιῳ</lang>).[#]
Cæsar devotes to the German theology of his time three
lines of his Commentaries. They reckon in the number
of the gods, he says, those only whom they perceive and
whose benefits they openly enjoy, Sun and Vulcan and Moon,
the rest they know not even by report.[#] It is true that
Cæsar’s short summary does no justice to the real number
and quality of the deities of the German pantheon, yet his
forcible description of nature-worship in its most primitive
stage may probably be true of the direct adoration of the
sun and moon, and possibly of fire. On the other hand,
European sun-worship leads into the most perplexing problems
of mythology. Well might Cicero exclaim, ‘How
many suns are set forth by the theologians!’[#] The
modern student who shall undertake to discriminate among
the Sun-gods of European lands, to separate the solar and
non-solar elements of the Greek Apollo and Herakles, or
of the Slavonic Swatowit, has a task before him complicate
with that all but hopeless difficulty which besets the study
of myth, the moment that the clue of direct comparison
with nature falls away.

The religion of ancient Egypt is one of which we know
much, yet little—much of its temples, rites, names of
deities, liturgical formulas, but little of the esoteric religious
ideas which lay hidden within these outer manifestations.
Yet it is clear that central solar conceptions as it
// File: 303.png
.pn +1
were radiate through the Egyptian theology. Ra, who
traverses in his boat the upper and lower regions of the
universe, is the Sun himself in plain cosmic personality.
And to take two obvious instances of solar characters in
other deities, Osiris the manifester of good and truth, who
dies by the powers of darkness and becomes judge of the
dead in the west-land of Amenti, is solar in his divine
nature, as is also his son Horus, smiter of the monster Set.[#]
In the religions of the Semitic race, the place of the Sun is
marked through a long range of centuries. The warning
to the Israelites lest they should worship and serve sun,
moon, and stars, and the mention of Josiah taking away the
horses that the Kings of Judah had given to the sun, and
burning the chariots of the sun with fire,[#] agree with the
place given in other Semitic religions to the Sun-god,
Shamas of Assyria, or Baal, even expressly qualified as
Baal-Shemesh or Lord Sun. Syrian religion, like Persian,
introduced a new phase of Sun-worship into Rome, the
cultus of Elagabal, and the vile priest emperor who bore
this divine name made it more intelligible to classic ears
as Heliogabalus.[#] Eusebius is a late writer as regards
Semitic religion, but with such facts as these before us
we need not withhold our confidence from him when he
describes the Phœnicians and Egyptians as holding Sun,
Moon, and Stars to be gods, sole causes of the generation
and destruction of all things.[#]

The widely spread and deeply rooted religion of the Sun
naturally offered strenuous resistance to the invasion of
Christianity, and it was one of the great signs of the religious
change of the civilized world when Constantine, that
ardent votary of the Sun, abandoned the faith of Apollo
for that of Christ. Amalgamation even proved possible
// File: 304.png
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between the doctrines of Sabæism and Christianity, and in
and near Armenia a sect of Sun-worshippers have lasted on
into modern times under the profession of Jacobite Christians;[#]
a parallel case within the limits of Mohammedanism
being that of Beduin Arabs who still continue the old adoration
of the rising sun, in spite of the Prophet’s expressed
command not to bow before the sun or moon, and in spite
of the good Moslem’s dictum, that ‘the sun rises between
the devil’s horns.’[#] Actual worship of the sun in Christendom
soon shrank to the stage of survival. In Lucian’s
time the Greeks kissed their hands as an act of worship to
the rising sun; and Tertullian had still to complain of many
Christians that with an affectation of adoring the heavenly
bodies they would move their lips toward the sunrise (Sed
et plerique vestrum affectatione aliquando et cœlestia
adorandi ad solis ortum labia vibratis).[#] In the 5th century,
Leo the Great complains of certain Christians who, before
entering the Basilica of <abbr=Saint>St.</abbr> Peter, or from the top of a hill,
would turn and bow to the rising sun; this comes, he says,
partly of ignorance and partly of the spirit of paganism.[#]
To this day, in the Upper Palatinate, the peasant takes off
his hat to the rising sun; and in Pomerania, the fever-stricken
patient is to pray thrice turning toward the sun
at sunrise, ‘Dear Sun, come soon down, and take the
seventy-seven fevers from me. In the name of God the
Father, &c.’[#]

For the most part, the ancient rites of solar worship are
represented in modern Christendom in two ways; by the
ceremonies connected with turning to the east, of which an
account is given in an ensuing chapter under the heading
of Orientation; and in the continuance of the great sun-festivals,
// File: 305.png
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countenanced by or incorporated in Christianity.
Spring-tide, reckoned by so many peoples as New-Year, has
in great measure had its solar characteristics transferred to
the Paschal festival. The Easter bonfires with which the
North German hills used to be ablaze mile after mile, are
not altogether given up by local custom. On Easter morning
in Saxony and Brandenburg, the peasants still climb the
hill-tops before dawn, to see the rising sun give his three
joyful leaps, as our forefathers used to do in England in the
days when Sir Thomas Browne so quaintly apologized for
declaring that ‘the sun doth not dance on Easter Day.’
The solar rite of the New Fire, adopted by the Roman
Church as a Paschal ceremony, may still be witnessed in
Europe, with its solemn curfew on Easter Eve, and the
ceremonial striking of the new holy fire. On Easter Eve,
under the solemn auspices of the Greek Church, a mob of
howling fanatics crush and trample to death the victims
who faint and fall in their struggles to approach the most
shameless imposture of modern Christendom, the miraculous
fire from heaven which descends into the Holy Sepulchre.[#]
Two other Christian festivals have not merely had
solar rites transferred to them, but seem distinctly themselves
of solar origin. The Roman winter-solstice festival,
as celebrated on December 25 (<abbr rend=spell>VIII.</abbr> Kal. Jan.) in connexion
with the worship of the Sun-god Mithra, appears to
have been instituted in this special form after the Eastern
campaign of Aurelian <abbr rend=spell><sc>A.D.</sc></abbr> 273, and to this festival the day
owes its apposite name of Birthday of the Unconquered
Sun, <lang=la>‘Dies Natalis Solis invicti.’</lang> With full symbolic
appropriateness, though not with historical justification,
the day was adopted in the Western Church, where it
appears to have been generally introduced by the <abbr=fourth>4th</abbr>
century, and whence in time it passed to the Eastern
Church, as the solemn anniversary of the birth of Christ,
// File: 306.png
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the Christian <lang=la>Dies Natalis</lang>, Christmas Day. Attempts
have been made to ratify this date as matter of history,
but no valid nor even consistent early Christian tradition
vouches for it. The real solar origin of the festival is
clear from the writings of the Fathers after its institution.
In religious symbolism of the material and spiritual sun,
Augustine and Gregory of Nyassa discourse on the glowing
light and dwindling darkness that follow the Nativity, while
Leo the Great, among whose people the earlier solar meaning
of the festival evidently remained in strong remembrance,
rebukes in a sermon the pestiferous persuasion, as
he calls it, that this solemn day is to be honoured not for
the birth of Christ, but for the rising, as they say, of the new
sun.[#] As for modern memory of the sun-rites of mid-winter,
Europe recognizes Christmas as a primitive solar festival by
bonfires which our ‘yule-log,’ the ‘souche de Noël,’ still
keeps in mind; while the adaptation of ancient solar thought
to Christian allegory is as plain as ever in the Christmas
service chant, <lang=la>‘Sol novus oritur.’</lang>[#] The solar Christmas
festival has its pendant at Midsummer. The summer
solstice was the great season of fire-festivals throughout
Europe, of bonfires on the heights, of dancing round and
leaping through the fires, of sending blazing fire-wheels to
roll down from the hills into the valleys in sign of the sun’s
descending course. These ancient rites attached themselves
in Christendom to <abbr=Saint>St.</abbr> John’s Eve.[#] It seems as though
the same train of symbolism which had adapted the midwinter
festival to the Nativity, may have suggested the
dedication of the midsummer festival to John the Baptist,
in clear allusion to his words, ‘He must increase, but I
must decrease.’
// File: 307.png
.pn +1

Moon-worship, naturally ranking below Sun-worship in
importance, ranges through nearly the same district of
culture. There are remarkable cases in which the Moon
is recognized as a great deity by tribes who take less account,
or none at all, of the Sun. The rude savages of
Brazil seem especially to worship or respect the moon, by
which they regulate their time and festivals, and draw their
omens. They would lift up their hands to the moon with
wonder-struck exclamations of teh! teh! they would have
children smoked by the sorcerers to preserve them from
moon-given sickness, or the women would hold up their
babes to the luminary. The Botocudos are said to give the
highest rank among the heavenly bodies to Taru the Moon,
as causing thunder and lightning and the failure of vegetables
and fruits, and as even sometimes falling to the earth,
whereby many men die.[#] An old account of the Caribs
describes them as esteeming the Moon more than the Sun,
and at new moon coming out of their houses crying ‘Behold
the Moon!’[#] The Ahts of Vancouver’s Island, it is
stated, worship the Sun and Moon, particularly the full
moon and the sun ascending to the zenith. Regarding the
Moon as husband and the Sun as wife, their prayers are
more generally addressed to the Moon as the superior deity;
he is the highest object of their worship, and they speak of
him as ‘looking down upon the earth in answer to prayer,
and seeing everybody.’[#] With a somewhat different turn
of mythic fancy, the Hurons seem to have considered Ataentsic
the Moon as maker of the earth and man, and grandmother
of Iouskeha the Sun, with whom she governs the
world.[#] In Africa, Moon-worship is prominent in an immense
district where Sun-worship is unknown or insignificant.
Among south-central tribes, men will watch for the
// File: 308.png
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first glimpses of the new Moon, which they hail with shouts
of kua! and vociferate prayers to it; on such an occasion
Dr. Livingstone’s Makololo prayed, ‘Let our journey with
the white man be prosperous!’ &c.[#] These people keep
holiday at new-moon, as indeed in many countries her
worship is connected with the settlement of periodic festival.
Negro tribes seem almost universally to greet the new Moon,
whether in delight or disgust. The Guinea people fling
themselves about with droll gestures, and pretend to throw
firebrands at it; the Ashango men behold it with superstitious
fear; the Fetu negroes jumped thrice into the air
with hands together and gave thanks.[#] The Congo people
fell on their knees, or stood and clapped their hands, crying,
‘So may I renew my life as thou art renewed!’[#] The
Hottentots are described early in the last century as dancing
and singing all night at new and full moon, calling the Moon
the Great Captain, and crying to him ‘Be greeted!’
‘Let us get much honey!’ ‘May our cattle get much to
eat and give much milk!’ With the same thought as that
just noticed in the district north-west of them, the Hottentots
connect the Moon in legend with that fatal message
sent to Man, which ought to have promised to the human
race a moon-like renewal of life, but which was perverted
into a doom of death like that of the beast who brought it.[#]

The more usual status of the Moon in the religions of
the world is, as nature suggests, that of a subordinate companion
deity to the Sun, such a position as is acknowledged
in the precedence of Sunday to Monday. Their various
mutual relations as brother and sister, husband and wife,
have already been noticed here as matter of mythology.
As wide-lying rude races who place them thus side by side
in their theology, it is enough to mention the Delawares of
// File: 309.png
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North America,[#] the Ainos of Yesso,[#] the Bodos of North-East-India,[#]
the Tunguz of Siberia.[#] This is the state of
things which continues at higher levels of systematic civilization.
Beside the Mexican Tonatiuh the Sun, Metztli the
Moon had a smaller pyramid and temple;[#] in Bogota, the
Moon, identified in local myth with the Evil Deity, had
her place and figure in the temple beside the Sun her husband;[#]
the Peruvian Mother-Moon, Mama-Quilla, had her
silver disc-face to match the golden one of her brother and
husband the Sun, whose companion she had been in the
legendary civilizing of the land.[#] In the ancient Kami-religion
of Japan, the supreme Sun-god ranks high above
the Moon-god, who was worshipped under the form of a
fox.[#] Among the historic nations of the Old World, documents
of Semitic culture show Sun and Moon side by side.
For one, we may take the Jewish law, to stone with stones
till they died the man or woman who ‘hath gone and
served other gods, and worshipped them, either the sun,
or moon, or any of the host of heaven.’ For another, let
us glance over the curious record of the treaty-oath between
Philip of Macedon and the general of the Carthaginian and
Libyan army, which so well shows how the original identity
of nature-deities may be forgotten in their different local
shapes, so that the same divinity may come twice or even
three times over in as many national names and forms.
Herakles and Apollo stand in company with the personal
Sun, and as well as the personal Moon is to be seen the
‘Carthaginian deity,’ whom there is reason to look on as
Astarte, a goddess latterly of lunar nature. This is the
list of deities invoked: ‘Before Zeus and Hera and
// File: 310.png
.pn +1
Apollo; before the goddess of the Carthaginians (<lang=grc>δαίμονος
Καρχηδονίων</lang>) and Herakles and Iolaos; before Ares, Triton,
Poseidon; before the gods who fought with the armies,
and Sun and Moon and Earth; before the rivers and
meadows and waters; before all the gods who rule Macedonia
and the rest of Greece; before all the gods who
were at the war, they who have presided over this oath.’[#]
When Lucian visited the famous temple of Hierapolis in
Syria, he saw the images of the other gods, ‘but only of
the Sun and Moon they show no images.’ And when
he asked why, they told him that the forms of other gods
were not seen by all, but Sun and Moon are altogether
clear, and all men see them.[#] In Egyptian theology, not
to discuss other divine beings to whom a lunar nature has
been ascribed, it is at least certain that Khonsu is the Moon in
absolute personal divinity.[#] In Aryan theology, the personal
Moon stands as Selēnē beside the more anthropomorphic
forms of Hekatē and Artemis,[#] as Luna beside the less
understood Lucina, and Diana with her borrowed attributes,[#]
while our Teutonic forefathers were content with his
plain name of Moon.[#] As for lunar survivals in the higher
religions, they are much like the solar. Monotheist as he
is, the Moslem still claps his hands at sight of the new
moon, and says a prayer.[#] In Europe in the 15th century
it was matter of complaint that some still adored the new
moon with bended knee, or hood or hat removed, and to
this day we may still see a hat raised or a curtsey dropped
to her, half in conservatism and half in jest. It is with
reference to silver as the lunar metal, that money is turned
// File: 311.png
.pn +1
when the act of adoration is performed, while practical
peasant wit dwells on the ill-luck of having no piece of
silver when the new moon is first seen.[#]

Thus, in tracing the development of Nature-Worship, it
appears that though Fire, Air, Earth, and Water are not
yet among the lower races systematized into a quaternion of
elements, their adoration, with that of Sun and Moon, shows
already arising in primitive culture the familiar types of
those great divinities, who received their further development
in the higher Polytheism.

.fn #
Eyre, ‘Australia,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 362; Oldfield in ‘Tr. Eth. Soc.’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=three>iii.</abbr>
<abbr=page>p.</abbr> 228; Lang, ‘Queensland,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 444.
.fn-
.fn #
Martius, ‘Ethnog. Amer.’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 583.
.fn-
.fn #
Loskiel, ‘Ind. of <abbr rend=spell>N. America</abbr>,’ part <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 43.
.fn-
.fn #
Ellis, ‘Polyn. Res.’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 1322.
.fn-
.fn #
<abbr=Saint>St.</abbr> John, ‘Far East,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 180.
.fn-
.fn #
<abbr rend=spell>J. B.</abbr> Schlegel, <lang=de>‘Schlüssel zur Ewe Sprache,’</lang> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> <abbr=twelve>xii.</abbr>; compare Bowen,
‘Yoruba Lang.’ in ‘Smithsonian Contrib.’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> <abbr=sixteen>xvi.</abbr>
.fn-
.fn #
Samoiedia, in Pinkerton, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 531.
.fn-
.fn #
Macpherson, <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 84, &c.
.fn-
.fn #
Clavigero, ‘Messico,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=chapter>ch.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr>
.fn-
.fn #
Gladstone, ‘Juventus Mundi,’ <abbr=chapter>ch.</abbr> <abbr=seven>vii.</abbr> &c.
.fn-
.fn #
Ward, ‘Hindoos,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr>
.fn-
.fn #
‘Journ. Ind. Archip.’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 33, 255, 275, 338, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 692.
.fn-
.fn #
Brebeuf in ‘Rel. des Jés.,’ 1636, <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 107; Lafitau, <lang=fr>‘Mœurs des Sauvages
Amériquains,’</lang> <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 132. Schoolcraft, ‘Iroquois,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 36, &c. 237.
Brinton, ‘Myths of New World,’ <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 48, 172. <abbr rend=spell>J. G.</abbr> Müller, ‘Amer.
Urrelig.’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 119.
.fn-
.fn #
Callaway, ‘Zulu Tales,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 203.
.fn-
.fn #
Waitz, ‘Anthropologie,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 168, &c.; Burton, ‘<abbr rend=spell>W.</abbr> & <abbr rend=spell>W.</abbr> fr. <abbr=west>W.</abbr>
<abbr=Africa>Afr.</abbr>’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 76.
.fn-
.fn #
Castrén, ‘Finn. Myth.’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 7, &c.
.fn-
.fn #
Plath, ‘Religion und Cultus der alten Chinesen,’ part <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 18, &c.;
part <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 32; Doolittle, ‘Chinese,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 396. See Max Müller,
‘Lectures,’ <abbr=second>2nd</abbr> <abbr rend=spell>S.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 437; Legge, ‘Confucius,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 100. For further evidence
as to savage and barbaric worship of the Heaven as Supreme Deity, see
#chap. xvii:chap17#.
.fn-
.fn #
Max Müller, ‘Lectures,’ <abbr=second>2nd</abbr> Series, <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 425; Grimm, ‘<abbr rend=spell>D. M.</abbr>’ <abbr=chapter>ch.</abbr> <abbr=nine>ix.</abbr>;
Cicero, De Natura Deorum, <abbr=three>iii.</abbr> 4. Connexion of the Sanskrit Dyu with
the Scandinavian Tyr and the Anglo Saxon Tiw is perhaps rather of
etymology than definition.
.fn-
.fn #
Duff Macdonald, ‘Africana,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 60 (<abbr='East Central'>E. Centr.</abbr> <abbr=Africa>Afr.</abbr>). Waitz,
‘Anthropologie,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 169 (<abbr=West>W.</abbr> <abbr=Africa>Afr.</abbr>) <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 416 (Damaras).
.fn-
.fn #
Markham, ‘Quichua <abbr=Grammar>Gr.</abbr> and <abbr=Dictionary>Dic.</abbr>’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 9; <abbr rend=spell>J. G.</abbr> Müller, ‘Amer. Urrel.’
<abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 318, 368.
.fn-
.fn #
Ibid. <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 496-9; Oviedo, ‘Nicaragua,’ <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 40, 72.
.fn-
.fn #
Macpherson, ‘India,’ <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 89, 355.
.fn-
.fn #
Dalton, ‘Kols,’ in ‘Tr. Eth. Soc.’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=six>vi.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 34. Compare 1 Kings <abbr=eighteen>xviii.</abbr>
.fn-
.fn #
Castrén, ‘Finn. Myth.’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 36; Kalewala, Rune <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> 317.
.fn-
.fn #
Marc. Antonin. <abbr=five>v.</abbr> 7. <lang=grc>‘Ἐὐχὴ Ἀθηναίων, ὖσον, ὖσον, ὦ φίλε Ζεῦ, κατὰ τῆς
ἀρούρας τῶν Ἀθηναίων καὶ τῶν πεδίων.’</lang>
.fn-
.fn #
Petron. Arbiter. Sat. <abbr='forty-four'>xliv.</abbr> <lang=la>‘Antea stolatæ ibant nudis pedibus in
clivum, passis capillis, mentibus puris, et Jovem aquam exorabant. Itaque
statim urceatim pluebat: aut tunc aut nunquam; et omnes redibant udi
tanquam mures.’</lang> See Grimm, ‘<abbr rend=spell>D. M.</abbr>’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 160.
.fn-
.fn #
Pr. Max <abbr=five>v.</abbr> Wied, ‘<abbr=North>N.</abbr> <abbr=America>Amer.</abbr>’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 152, 223; <abbr rend=spell>J. G.</abbr> Müller, <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 120;
Waitz, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=three>iii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 179.
.fn-
.fn #
Keating, ‘Narr.’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 407; Eastman, ‘Dahcotah,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 71; Brinton,
<abbr=page>p.</abbr> 150, &c.; see M’Coy, ‘Baptist Indian Missions,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 363.
.fn-
.fn #
De la Borde, ‘Caraïbes,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 530; Rochefort, ‘Iles Antilles,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 431.
.fn-
.fn #
De Laet, ‘Novus Orbis,’ <abbr=fifteen>xv.</abbr> 2. Waitz, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=three>iii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 417; <abbr rend=spell>J. G.</abbr> Müller,
<abbr=page>p.</abbr> 270; also 421 (thunderstorms by anger of Sun, in Cumana, &c.).
.fn-
.fn #
Brinton, <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 153; Herrera, ‘Indias Occidentales,’ Dec., <abbr=five>v.</abbr> 4. <abbr rend=spell>J. G.</abbr>
Müller <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 327. ‘Rites and Laws of the Yncas,’ <abbr=translated>tr.</abbr> & <abbr=edited>ed.</abbr> by <abbr rend=spell>C. R.</abbr> Markham,
<abbr=page>p.</abbr> 16, see 81; Prescott, ‘Peru,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 86.
.fn-
.fn #
Bowen, ‘Yoruba Lang.’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> <abbr=sixteen>xvi.</abbr> in ‘Smithsonian Contr.’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> See
Burton, ‘Dahome,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 142. Details as to thunder-axes, &c., in ‘Early
<abbr=History>Hist.</abbr> of Mankind,’ <abbr=chapter>ch.</abbr> <abbr=eight>viii.</abbr>
.fn-
.fn #
Steller, ‘Kamtschatka,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 266.
.fn-
.fn #
Klemm, ‘<abbr rend=spell>C. G.</abbr>’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=four>iv.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 85. (Ossetes, &c.) See Welcker, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 170;
Grimm, ‘<abbr rend=spell>D. M.</abbr>’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 158. Bastian, ‘Mensch.’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 423 (Ali-sect.).
.fn-
.fn #
Castrén, ‘Finn. Myth.’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 39, &c.
.fn-
.fn #
‘Rig-Veda,’ <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 32. 1, 55. 5, 130. 8, 165; <abbr=three>iii.</abbr> 34. 9; <abbr=six>vi.</abbr> 20; <abbr=ten>x.</abbr> 44. 9, 89.
9. Max Müller, ‘Lectures,’ <abbr=second>2nd</abbr> S. <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 427; ‘Chips,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 42, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr>
<abbr=page>p.</abbr> 323. See Muir, ‘Sanskrit Texts.’
.fn-
.fn #
Homer. <abbr=Iliad>Il.</abbr> <abbr=eight>viii.</abbr> 170, <abbr=seventeen>xvii.</abbr> 595. Ovid. Fast. <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> 69. See Welcker,
‘Griech. Götterl.’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 194.
.fn-
.fn #
Hanusch, ‘Slaw. Myth.’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 257.
.fn-
.fn #
Grimm, ‘Deutsche Myth.’ <abbr=chapter>ch.</abbr> <abbr=eight>viii.</abbr> Edda; Gylfaginning, 21, 44.
.fn-
.fn #
Schoolcraft, ‘Algic Res.’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 139, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 214; Loskiel, part <abbr=one>i.</abbr>
<abbr=page>p.</abbr> 43; Waitz, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=three>iii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 190. Morgan, ‘Iroquois,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 157; <abbr rend=spell>J. G.</abbr> Müller,
<abbr=page>p.</abbr> 56. Further American evidence in Brinton, ‘Myths of New World,’
<abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 50, 74; Cranz, ‘Grönland,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 267 (Sillagiksartok, Weather-spirit); De la
Borde, ‘Caraïbes,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 530 (Carib Star Curumon, makes the billows and upsets
canoes).
.fn-
.fn #
Ellis, ‘Polyn. Res.’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 329 (compare with the Maori Tempest-god
Tawhirimatea, Grey, ‘Polyn. Myth.’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 5); Schirren, <lang=de>‘Wandersage der
Neuseeländer,’</lang> &c. <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 85; Yate, ‘New Zealand,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 144. See also Mariner,
‘Tonga Is.’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 115.
.fn-
.fn #
Steller, ‘Kamschatka,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 266.
.fn-
.fn #
Castrén, ‘Finn. Myth.’ <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 37, 68.
.fn-
.fn #
Boecler, <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 106, 147.
.fn-
.fn #
See also Klemm, ‘Cultur-Gesch.’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=four>iv.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 85 (Circassian Water-god
and Wind-god).
.fn-
.fn #
Muir, ‘Sanskrit Texts,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=five>v.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 150.
.fn-
.fn #
Homer. <abbr=Iliad>Il.</abbr> <abbr='twenty-three'>xxiii.</abbr> 192, <abbr=Odyssey>Odyss.</abbr> <abbr=twenty>xx.</abbr> 66, 77; Apollon. Rhod. Argonautica;
Apollodor. <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 9. 21; <abbr=Virgil>Virg.</abbr> <abbr=Aeneid>Æn.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 56; Welcker, ‘Griech. Götterl.’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr>
<abbr=page>p.</abbr> 707, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=three>iii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 67.
.fn-
.fn #
Grimm, ‘Deutsche Myth.’ <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 121, 871.
.fn-
.fn #
Wuttke, <lang=de>‘Deutsche Volksabergl.’</lang> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 86.
.fn-
.fn #
Tanner’s ‘Narrative,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 193; Loskiel, <abbr rend=spell>l.c.</abbr> See also Rochefort, ‘Iles
Antilles,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 414; <abbr rend=spell>J. G.</abbr> Müller, <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 178 (Antilles).
.fn-
.fn #
Garcilaso de la Vega, <lang=es>‘Commentarios Reales,’</lang> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 10; Rivero & Tschudi,
<abbr=page>p.</abbr> 161; <abbr rend=spell>J. G.</abbr> Müller, <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 369.
.fn-
.fn #
Waitz, ‘Anthropologie,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 170.
.fn-
.fn #
‘Report of Ethnological Committee, Jubbulpore Exhibition,’ 1866-7.
Nagpore, 1868, part <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 54.
.fn-
.fn #
Macpherson, ‘India,’ <abbr=chapter>chap.</abbr> <abbr=six>vi.</abbr>
.fn-
.fn #
Georgi, <lang=de>‘Reise im Russ. Reich,’</lang> <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 275, 317. Castrén, ‘Finn.
Myth,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 86, &c.
.fn-
.fn #
Plath, ‘Religion der alten Chinesen,’ part <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 36, 73, part <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 32.
Doolittle, ‘Chinese,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 86, 354, 413, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 67, 380, 455.
.fn-
.fn #
‘Rig-Veda,’ <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 89. 4, &c., &c.
.fn-
.fn #
Welcker, ‘Griech. Götterl.’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 385, &c.
.fn-
.fn #
Varro de Ling. Lat. <abbr=four>iv.</abbr>
.fn-
.fn #
Tacit. Germania, 40. Grimm, ‘Deutsche Myth.’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 229, &c.
.fn-
.fn #
Wuttke, <lang=de>‘Deutsche Volksabergl.’</lang> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 87.
.fn-
.fn #
Liebich, <lang=de>‘Die Zigeuner,’</lang> <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 30, 84.
.fn-
.fn #
Schoolcraft, ‘Indian Tribes,’ part <abbr=three>iii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 485; Eastman, ‘Dahcotah,’
<abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 118, 161.
.fn-
.fn #
Clavigero, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 14.
.fn-
.fn #
Marsden, ‘Sumatra,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 301; see also 303 (Tagals).
.fn-
.fn #
Ellis, ‘Polyn. Res.’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 328.
.fn-
.fn #
Bosman, ‘Guinea,’ letter <abbr=nineteen>xix.</abbr>; in Pinkerton, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=sixteen>xvi.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 494. Burton,
‘Dahome,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 141. See also below, #chap. xviii:chap18#. (sacrifice).
.fn-
.fn #
Schlegel, <lang=de>‘Ewe Sprache,’</lang> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> <abbr=fourteen>xiv.</abbr>
.fn-
.fn #
Garcilaso de la Vega, <lang=es>‘Commentarios Reales,’</lang> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 10, <abbr=six>vi.</abbr> 17; Rivero &
Tschudi, ‘Peru,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 161.
.fn-
.fn #
Steller, ‘Kamtschatka,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 265.
.fn-
.fn #
Siebold, ‘Nippon,’ part <abbr=five>v.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 9.
.fn-
.fn #
Herod. <abbr=six>vi.</abbr> 76.
.fn-
.fn #
Cicero, <lang=la>De Natura Deorum</lang>, <abbr=three>iii.</abbr> 20.
.fn-
.fn #
Homer, <abbr=Iliad>Il.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 538, <abbr=thirteen>xiii.</abbr> 18, <abbr=twenty>xx.</abbr> 13. Welcker, ‘Griech. Götterl.’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr>
<abbr=page>p.</abbr> 616 (Nereus), <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 622 (Poseidon). Cox, ‘Mythology of Aryan Nations,’
<abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=chapter>ch.</abbr> <abbr=six>vi.</abbr>
.fn-
.fn #
Loskiel, ‘Ind. of <abbr rend=spell>N. A.</abbr>’ part <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 41, 45. See also <abbr rend=spell>J. G.</abbr> Müller, <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 55.
.fn-
.fn #
Irving, ‘Astoria,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=chapter>ch.</abbr> <abbr='twenty-two'>xxii.</abbr>
.fn-
.fn #
Torquemada, ‘Monarquia Indiana,’ <abbr=six>vi.</abbr> <abbr rend=spell>c.</abbr> 28, <abbr=ten>x.</abbr> <abbr rend=spell>c.</abbr> 22, 30; Brasseur,
‘Mexique,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=three>iii.</abbr> <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 492, 522, 536.
.fn-
.fn #
Schirren, ‘Wandersage der Neuseeländer,’ &c., <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 32; Turner, ‘Polynesia,’
pp. 252, 527.
.fn-
.fn #
Burton, ‘Dahome,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 148; Schlegel, ‘Ewe Sprache,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> <abbr=fifteen>xv.</abbr>
.fn-
.fn #
Steller, ‘Kamtschatka,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 276.
.fn-
.fn #
Batchelor in ‘Tr. As. Soc. Japan,’ <abbr=volumes>vols.</abbr> <abbr=ten>x.</abbr> <abbr=sixteen>xvi.</abbr>
.fn-
.fn #
Castrén, ‘Finn. Myth.’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 57; Billings, ‘<abbr=North>N.</abbr> Russia,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 123 (Yakuts);
Bastian, ‘Vorstellungen von Wasser und Feuer,’ in <lang=de>‘Zeitschr. für Ethnologie,’</lang>
<abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 383 (Mongols).
.fn-
.fn #
Klemm, <lang=de>‘Cultur-Gesch.’</lang> <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=six>vi.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 85 (Circassia). Welcker, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr>
<abbr=page>p.</abbr> 663.
.fn-
.fn #
See ‘Records of the Past,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=three>iii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 137, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=nine>ix.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 143; Sayce,
‘Lectures on Rel. of Ancient Babylonians,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 170. For accounts of Semitic
fire-worship, see Movers, ‘Phönizier,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 327, &c., 337, &c., 401.
.fn-
.fn #
‘Rig-Veda,’ <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 1. 1, 19. 2, <abbr=three>iii.</abbr> 1. 18, &c.; Max Müller, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 39;
Ward, ‘Hindoos,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 53. Haug, ‘Essays on Parsis,’ <abbr=four>iv.</abbr>; ‘Early
<abbr=History>Hist.</abbr> of Mankind,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 255.
.fn-
.fn #
Hanway, ‘Journal of Travels,’ London, 1753, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=chapter>ch.</abbr> <abbr='fifty-seven'>lvii.</abbr>
.fn-
.fn #
Diog. Lært. Proœm. <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> 6. Sextus Empiricus adv. Physicos, <abbr=nine>ix.</abbr>; Strabo,
<abbr=fifteen>xv.</abbr> 3, 13.
.fn-
.fn #
John Wilson, ‘The Parsi Religion,’ <abbr=chapter>ch.</abbr> <abbr=four>iv.</abbr>; ‘Avesta,’ <abbr=translated>tr.</abbr> by Spiegel,
Yacna, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr='sixty-one'>lxi.</abbr>
.fn-
.fn #
Max Müller, ‘Chips,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 169. Haug, ‘Essays on Parsis,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 281.
.fn-
.fn #
Hanusch, ‘Slaw. Myth.’ <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 88, 98.
.fn-
.fn #
Homer. Hymn. Aphrod. 29, Hestia 1. Welcker, ‘Griech. Götterl.’
<abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 686, 691.
.fn-
.fn #
Ovid. Fast. <abbr=six>vi.</abbr> 295.
.fn-
.fn #
Boecler, ‘Ehsten Abergl.’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 29, &c.
.fn-
.fn #
Wuttke, ‘Volksabergl.’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 86. Grohmann, <lang=de>‘Aberglauben aus Böhmen,’</lang>
<abbr=page>p.</abbr> 41.
.fn-
.fn #
D’Orbigny, <lang=fr>‘L’Homme Américain,’</lang> <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 242.
.fn-
.fn #
Herod, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 216, <abbr=four>iv.</abbr> 184. Baker, ‘Albert Nyanza,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 144.
.fn-
.fn #
Waitz, ‘Anthropologie,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=three>iii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 181 (Hudson’s <abbr rend=spell>B.</abbr>, Pottawatomies),
205 (Virginians). <abbr rend=spell>J. G.</abbr> Müller, ‘Amer. Urrel.’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 117 (Delawares, Sioux,
Mingos, &c.). Sproat, ‘Ind. of Vancouver’s <abbr rend=spell>I.</abbr>’ in ‘Tr. Eth. Soc.’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=five>v.</abbr>
<abbr=page>p.</abbr> 253. Loskiel, ‘Ind. of <abbr rend=spell>N. A.</abbr>’ part <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 43 (Delawares). Hennepin, <lang=fr>‘Voyage
dans l’Amérique,’</lang> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 302 (Sioux), &c. Bartram, ‘Creek and Cherokee Ind.’
in ‘Tr. Amer. Eth. Soc.’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=three>iii.</abbr> part <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 20, 26; see also Schoolcraft,
‘<abbr=Indian>Ind.</abbr> Tribes,’ part <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 127 (Comanches, &c.); Morgan, ‘Iroquois,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 164;
Gregg, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 238 (Shawnees); but compare the remarks of Brinton,
‘Myths of New World,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 141.
.fn-
.fn #
Martius, ‘Ethnog. Amer.’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 327 (Botocudos). Waitz, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=three>iii.</abbr>
<abbr=page>p.</abbr> 518 (Araucanians). Dobrizhoffer, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 89 (Puelches). Charlevoix,
‘Hist. du Paraguay,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 331 (Diaguitas). <abbr rend=spell>J. G.</abbr> Müller, <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 255
(Botocudos, Aucas, Diaguitas).
.fn-
.fn #
Charlevoix, <lang=fr>‘Nouvelle France,’</lang> <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=six>vi.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 172; Waitz, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=three>iii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 217.
.fn-
.fn #
Rochefort, ‘Iles Antilles,’ book <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=chapter>ch.</abbr> <abbr=eight>viii.</abbr>
.fn-
.fn #
Torquemada, ‘Monarquia Indiana,’ <abbr=nine>ix.</abbr> <abbr=chapter>c.</abbr> 34; Sahagun, <lang=es>‘Hist. de Nueva
España,’</lang> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> App. in Kingsborough, ‘Antiquities of Mexico;’ Waitz, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=four>iv.</abbr>
<abbr=page>p.</abbr> 138; <abbr rend=spell>J. G.</abbr> Müller, <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 474, &c.; Brasseur, ‘Mexique,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=three>iii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 487;
Tylor, ‘Mexico,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 141.
.fn-
.fn #
Piedrahita, <lang=es>‘Hist. Gen. de las Conquistas del Nuevo Reyno de Granada,’</lang>
Antwerp, 1688: part <abbr=one>i.</abbr> book <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=chapter>c.</abbr> <abbr=three>iii.</abbr> <abbr=four>iv.</abbr>; Humboldt, ‘Vues des Cordillères;’
Waitz, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=four>iv.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 352, &c.; <abbr rend=spell>J. G.</abbr> Müller, <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 432, &c.
.fn-
.fn #
Garcilaso de la Vega, <lang=es>‘Commentarios Reales,’</lang> <abbr=liber>lib.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=chapter>c.</abbr> 15, &c., <abbr=three>iii.</abbr> <abbr=chapter>c.</abbr> 20;
<abbr=five>v.</abbr> <abbr=chapter>c.</abbr> 2, 6; ‘Rites and Laws of the Yncas,’ <abbr=translated>tr.</abbr> & <abbr=edited>ed.</abbr> by <abbr rend=spell>C. R.</abbr> Markham,
(Hakluyt <abbr=Society>Soc.</abbr>, 1873) <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 84; Prescott, ‘Peru,’ book <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=chapter>ch.</abbr> <abbr=three>iii.</abbr>; Waitz, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr>
<abbr=four>iv.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 447, &c.; <abbr rend=spell>J. G.</abbr> Müller, <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 362, &c.
.fn-
.fn #
Meiners, <lang=de>‘Gesch. der Rel.’</lang> <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 383. Burton, ‘Central <abbr=Africa>Afr.</abbr>’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr>
<abbr=page>p.</abbr> 346; ‘Dahome,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 147.
.fn-
.fn #
Hodgson, ‘Abor. of India,’ <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 167, 175 (Bodos, &c.).
.fn-
.fn #
Dalton, ‘Kols,’ in ‘Tr. Eth. Soc.’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=six>vi.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 33 (Oraons, &c.); Hunter,
‘Annals of Rural Bengal,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 184 (Santals).
.fn-
.fn #
Macpherson, ‘India,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 84, &c. (Khonds).
.fn-
.fn #
Castrén, ‘Finn. Myth.’ <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 16, 51, &c. Meiners, <abbr rend=spell>l.c.</abbr> Georgi, <lang=de>‘Reise im
Russ. Reich.’</lang> <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 275, 317. Klemm, <lang=de>‘Cultur-Geschichte,’</lang> <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=three>iii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 87.
Sun-Worship in Japan, Siebold, ‘Nippon,’ part <abbr=five>v.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 9. For further evidence
as to savage and barbaric worship of the Sun as Supreme Deity, see #chap. <abbr=seventeen>xvii.</abbr>:chap17#
.fn-
.fn #
‘Rig-Veda,’ <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 35, 50; <abbr=three>iii.</abbr> 62, 10. Max Müller, ‘Lectures,’ <abbr=second>2nd</abbr> <abbr=Series>Ser.</abbr>
<abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 378, 411; ‘Chips,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 19. Colebrooke, ‘Essays,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 30, 133.
Ward, ‘Hindoos,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 42.
.fn-
.fn #
‘Khordah-Avesta,’ <abbr='twenty-six'>xxvi.</abbr> in Avesta <abbr=translated>tr.</abbr> by Spiegel, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=three>iii.</abbr>; <abbr rend=spell>M.</abbr> Haug,
‘Essays on Parsis.’ Strabo, <abbr=fifteen>xv.</abbr> 3, 13. Nonnus, <abbr=forty>xl.</abbr> 400. Movers, ‘Phönizier,’
<abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 180: <lang=grc>‘Ἡλίῳ Μίθρᾳ ἀνικήτῳ’; ‘Διὸς ἀνικήτον Ἡλίου.’</lang>
.fn-
.fn #
Plat. Sympos. <abbr='thirty-six'>xxxvi.</abbr> See Welcker, <lang=de>‘Griech. Götterlehre,’</lang> <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 400,
412.
.fn-
.fn #
Cæsar de Bello Gallico, <abbr=six>vi.</abbr> 21: <lang=la>‘Deorum numero eos solos ducunt,
quos cernunt et quorum aperte opibus juvantur, Solem et Vulcanum et
Lunam, reliquos ne fama quidem acceperunt.’</lang>
.fn-
.fn #
Cicero de Natura Deorum, <abbr=three>iii.</abbr> 21.
.fn-
.fn #
See Wilkinson, ‘Ancient Egyptians’; Renouf, ‘Religion of Ancient
Egypt.’
.fn-
.fn #
<abbr=Deuteronomy>Deut.</abbr> <abbr=four>iv.</abbr> 19, <abbr=seventeen>xvii.</abbr> 3; 2 Kings <abbr='twenty-three'>xxiii.</abbr> 11.
.fn-
.fn #
Movers, ‘Phönizier,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 162, 180, &c. Lamprid. Heliogabal. <abbr=one>i.</abbr>
.fn-
.fn #
Euseb. Præparat. Evang. <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 6.
.fn-
.fn #
Neander, ‘Church History,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=six>vi.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 341. Carsten Niebuhr, ‘Reisebeschr.’
<abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 396.
.fn-
.fn #
Palgrave, ‘Arabia,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 9; <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 258. See Koran, <abbr='forty-one'>xli.</abbr> 37.
.fn-
.fn #
Tertullian. Apolog. adv. Gentes, <abbr=sixteen>xvi.</abbr> See Lucian. de Saltat. <abbr=seventeen>xvii.</abbr>; compare
Job. <abbr='thirty-one'>xxxi.</abbr> 26.
.fn-
.fn #
Leo. <abbr rend=spell>I.</abbr> Serm. <abbr=eight>viii.</abbr> in Natal. Dom.
.fn-
.fn #
Wuttke, <lang=de>‘Volksaberglaube,’</lang> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 150.
.fn-
.fn #
Grimm, ‘Deutsche Myth.’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 581, &c. Wuttke, <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 17, 93. Brand,
‘Pop. Ant.’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 157, &c. ‘Early <abbr=History>Hist.</abbr> of Mankind,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 260. Murray’s
‘Handbook for Syria and Palestine,’ 1868, <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 162.
.fn-
.fn #
See Pauly, ‘Real-Encyclop.’ <abbr rend=spell>s.v.</abbr> ‘Sol;’ Petavius, ‘Juliani Imp. Opera,’
290-2, 277. Bingham, ‘Antiquities of Christian Church,’ book <abbr=twenty>xx.</abbr> <abbr=chapter>ch.</abbr> <abbr=four>iv.</abbr>;
Neander, ‘Church <abbr=History>Hist.</abbr>’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=three>iii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 437; Beausobre, ‘Hist. de Manichée,’
<abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 691; Gibbon, <abbr=chapter>ch.</abbr> <abbr='twenty-two'>xxii.</abbr>; Creuzer, ‘Symbolik,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 761, &c.
.fn-
.fn #
Grimm, ‘<abbr rend=spell>D. M.</abbr>’ <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 593, 1223. Brand, ‘Popular Antiquities,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr>
<abbr=page>p.</abbr> 467. Monnier, ‘Traditions Populaires,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 188.
.fn-
.fn #
Grimm, ‘<abbr rend=spell>D. M.</abbr>’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 583; Brand, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 298; Wuttke, <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 14, 140.
Beausobre, <abbr rend=spell>l.c.</abbr>
.fn-
.fn #
Spix and Martius, ‘Reise in Brasilien,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 377, 381; Martius,
‘Ethnog. Amer.’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 327; Pr. Max. <abbr=five>v.</abbr> Wied, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 58; <abbr rend=spell>J. G.</abbr>
Müller, <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 218, 254; also Musters, ‘Patagonians,’ <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 58, 179.
.fn-
.fn #
De la Borde, ‘Caraibes,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 525.
.fn-
.fn #
Sproat, ‘Savage Life,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 206; ‘Tr. Eth. Soc.’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=five>v.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 253.
.fn-
.fn #
Brebeuf in ‘Rel. des Jés.’ 1635, <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 34.
.fn-
.fn #
Livingstone, ‘<abbr=South>S.</abbr> <abbr=Africa>Afr.</abbr>’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 235; Waitz, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 175, 342.
.fn-
.fn #
Römer, ‘Guinea,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 84; Du Chaillu, ‘Ashango-land,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 428; see
Purchas, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=five>v.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 766. Müller, ‘Fetu,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 47.
.fn-
.fn #
Merolla, ‘Congo,’ in Pinkerton, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=sixteen>xvi.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 273.
.fn-
.fn #
Kolbe, ‘Beschryving van de Kaap de Goede Hoop,’ part <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr='twenty-nine'>xxix.</abbr> See
ante, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 355.
.fn-
.fn #
Loskiel, ‘Ind. of <abbr rend=spell>N. A.</abbr>’ part <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 43.
.fn-
.fn #
Bickmore, ‘Ainos,’ in ‘Tr. Eth. Soc.’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=seven>vii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 20.
.fn-
.fn #
Hodgson, ‘Abor. of India,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 167.
.fn-
.fn #
Georgi, ‘Reise im Russ. <abbr rend=spell>R.</abbr>’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 275.
.fn-
.fn #
Clavigero, ‘Messico,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 9, 35; Tylor, ‘Mexico,’ <abbr rend=spell>l.c.</abbr>
.fn-
.fn #
Waitz, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=four>iv.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 362.
.fn-
.fn #
Garcilaso de la Vega, <lang=es>‘Commentarios Reales,’</lang> <abbr=three>iii.</abbr> 21.
.fn-
.fn #
Siebold, ‘Nippon,’ part <abbr=five>v.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 9.
.fn-
.fn #
Deuteron. <abbr=seventeen>xvii.</abbr> 3; Polyb. <abbr=seven>vii.</abbr> 9; see Movers, ‘Phönizier,’ <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 159,
536, 605.
.fn-
.fn #
Lucian. de Syria Dea, <abbr=four>iv.</abbr> 34.
.fn-
.fn #
Wilkinson, ‘Ancient Egyptians,’ <abbr=edited>ed.</abbr> by Birch, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=three>iii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 174. See
Plutarch. Is. et Osir.
.fn-
.fn #
Welcker, ‘Griech. Götterl.’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 550, &c.
.fn-
.fn #
Cic. de Nat. Deor. <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> 27.
.fn-
.fn #
Grimm, ‘<abbr rend=spell>D. M.</abbr>’ <abbr=chapter>ch.</abbr> <abbr='twenty-two'>xxii.</abbr>
.fn-
.fn #
Akerblad, ‘Lettre à Italinsky.’ Burton, ‘Central <abbr=Africa>Afr.</abbr>’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 346.
Mungo Park, ‘Travels,’ in ‘Pinkerton,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=sixteen>xvi.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 875.
.fn-
.fn #
Grimm, ‘<abbr rend=spell>D. M.</abbr>’ <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 29, 667; Brand, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=three>iii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 146; Forbes Leslie,
‘Early Races of Scotland,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 136.
.fn-
// File: 312.png
.pn +1
.sp 4
.h2 id=chap17
CHAPTER <abbr=seventeen>XVII.</abbr> | ANIMISM (<i>continued</i>).
.pm letter-start
Polytheism comprises a class of Great Deities, ruling the course of Nature
and the life of Man—Childbirth-god—Agriculture-god—War-god—God
of the Dead—First Man as Divine Ancestor—Dualism; its rudimentary
and unethical nature among low races; its development through
the course of culture—Good and Evil Deity—Doctrine of Divine
Supremacy, distinct from, while tending towards, the doctrine of
Monotheism—Idea of a Highest or Supreme Deity evolved in various
forms; its place as completion of the Polytheistic system and outcome
of the Animistic philosophy; its continuance and development
among higher nations—General survey of Animism as a Philosophy
of Religion—Recapitulation of the theory advanced as to its
development through successive stages of culture; its primary phases
best represented among the lower races, while survivals of these among
the higher races mark the transition from savage through barbaric to
civilized faiths—Transition of Animism in the History of Religion;
its earlier and later stages as a Philosophy of the Universe; its later
stages as the principle of a Moral Institution.
.pm letter-end
.sp 2
Polytheism acknowledges, beside great fetish-deities like
Heaven and Earth, Sun and Moon, another class of great
gods whose importance lies not in visible presence, but
in the performance of certain great offices in the course
of Nature and the life of Man. The lower races can
furnish themselves with such deities, either by giving the
recognized gods special duties to perform, or by attributing
these functions to beings invented in divine personality for
the purpose. The creation of such divinities is however
carried to a much greater extent in the complex systems of
the higher polytheism. For a compact group of examples
showing to what different ideas men will resort for a deity
to answer a special end, let us take the deity presiding over
// File: 313.png
.pn +1
Childbirth. In the West Indies, a special divinity occupied
with this function took rank as one of the great indigenous
fetish-gods;[#] in the Samoan group, the household god of
the father’s or mother’s family was appealed to;[#] in Peru the
Moon takes to this office,[#] and the same natural idea recurs
in Mexico;[#] in Esthonian religion the productive Earth-mother
appropriately becomes patroness of human birth;[#]
in the classic theology of Greece and Italy, the divine spouse
of the Heaven-king, Hera,[#] Juno,[#] favours and protects on
earth marriage and the birth of children; and to conclude
the list, the Chinese work out the problem from the manes-worshipper’s
point of view, for the goddess whom they call
‘Mother’ and propitiate with many a ceremony and sacrifice
to save and prosper their children, is held to have been in
human life a skilful midwife.[#]

The deity of Agriculture may be a cosmic being affecting
the weather and the soil, or a mythic giver of plants and
teacher of their cultivation and use. Thus among the
Iroquois, Heno the Thunder, who rides through the heavens
on the clouds, who splits the forest-trees with the thunderbolt-stones
he hurls at his enemies, who gathers the clouds
and pours out the warm rains, was fitly chosen as patron of
husbandry, invoked at seed-time and harvest, and called
Grandfather by his children the Indians.[#] It is interesting
to notice again on the southern continent the working out
of this idea in the Tupan of Brazilian tribes; Thunder and
Lightning, it is recorded, they call Tupan, considering
themselves to owe to him their hoes and the profitable
art of tillage, and therefore acknowledging him as a deity.[#]
// File: 314.png
.pn +1
Among the Guarani race, Tamoi the Ancient of Heaven
had no less rightful claim, in his character of heaven-god,
to be venerated as the divine teacher of agriculture to his
people.[#] In Mexico, Centeotl the Grain-goddess received
homage and offerings at her two great festivals, and took
care of the growth and keeping of the corn.[#] In Polynesia,
we hear in the Society Islands of Ofanu the god of husbandry,
in the Tonga Islands of Alo Alo the fanner, god of
wind and weather, bearing office as god of harvest, and
receiving his offering of yams when he had ripened them.[#]
A picturesque figure from barbaric Asia is Pheebee Yau, the
Ceres of the Karens, who sits on a stump and watches the
growing and ripening com, to fill the granaries of the frugal
and industrious.[#] The Khonds worship at the same shrine,
a stone or tree near the village, both Būrbi Pennu the goddess
of new vegetation, and Pidzu Pennu the rain-god.[#]
Among Finns and Esths it is the Earth-mother who appropriately
undertakes the task of bringing forth the fruits.[#]
And so among the Greeks it is the same being, Dēmētēr the
Earth-mother, who performs this function, while the Roman
Ceres who is confused with her is rather, as in Mexico, a
goddess of grain and fruit.[#]

The War-god is another being wanted among the lower
races, and formed or adapted accordingly. Areskove the
Iroquois War-god seems to be himself the great celestial
deity; for his pleasant food they slaughtered human victims,
that he might give them victory over their enemies; as a
pleasant sight for him they tortured the war-captives; on
him the war-chief called in solemn council, and the warriors,
shouting his name, rushed into the battle he was surveying
// File: 315.png
.pn +1
from on high. Canadian Indians before the fight would
look toward the sun, or addressed the Great Spirit as god of
war; Floridan Indians prayed to the Sun before their wars.[#]
Araucanians of Chili entreated Pillan the Thunder-god
that he would scatter their enemies, and thanked him
amidst their cups after a victory.[#] The very name of Mexico
seems derived from Mexitli, the national War-god, identical
or identified with the hideous gory Huitzilopochtli.
Not to attempt a general solution of the enigmatic nature
of this inextricable compound parthenogenetic deity, we
may notice the association of his principal festival with
the winter-solstice, when his paste idol was shot through
with an arrow, and being thus killed, was divided into
morsels and eaten, wherefore the ceremony was called
the teoqualo or ‘god-eating.’ This and other details tend
to show Huitzilopochtli as originally a nature-deity,
whose life and death were connected with the year’s,
while his functions of War-god may be of later addition.[#]
Polynesia is a region where quite an assortment of war-gods
may be collected. Such, to take but one example,
was Tairi, war-god of King Kamehameha of the Sandwich
Islands, whose hideous image, covered with red feathers,
shark-toothed, mother-of-pearl-eyed, with helmet-crest of
human hair, was carried into battle by his special priest,
distorting his own face into hideous grins, and uttering
terrific yells which were considered to proceed from the
god.[#] Two examples from Asia may show what different
original conceptions may serve to shape such deities as
these upon. The Khond War-god, who entered into all
weapons, so that from instruments of peace they became
weapons of war, who gave edge to the axe and point
to the arrow, is the very personified spirit of tribal war,
// File: 316.png
.pn +1
his token is the relic of iron and the iron weapons buried
in his sacred grove which stands near each group of
hamlets, and his name is Loha Pennu or Iron-god.[#] The
Chinese War-god, Kuang Tä, on the other hand, is an
ancient military ghost; he was a distinguished officer, as
well as a ‘faithful and honest courtier,’ who flourished
during the wars of the Han dynasty, and emperors since
then have delighted to honour him by adding to his usual
title more and more honorary distinctions.[#] Looking at
these selections from the army of War-gods of the different
regions of the world, we may well leave their classic
analogues, Arēs and Mars, as beings whose warlike function
we recognize, but not so easily their original nature.[#]

It would be easy, going through the religious systems of
Polynesia and Mexico, Greece and Rome, India and China,
to give the names and offices of a long list of divinities,
patrons of hunting and fishing, carpentering and weaving,
and so forth. But studying here rather the continuity of
polytheistic ideas than the analysis of polytheistic divinities,
it is needless to proceed farther in the comparison of these
deities of special function, as recognized to some extent in
the lower civilization, before their elaborate development
became one of the great features of the higher.

The great polytheistic deities we have been examining,
concerned as they are with the earthly course of nature and
human life, are gods of the living. But even in savage
levels man began to feel an intellectual need of a God of the
Dead, to reign over the souls of men in the next life, and
this necessity has been supplied in various ways. Of the
deities set up as lords of Deadman’s Land, some are beings
whose original meaning is obscure. Some are distinctly
nature-deities appointed to this office, often for local reasons,
as happening to belong to the regions where the dead take
// File: 317.png
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up their abode. Some, again, are as distinctly the deified
souls of men. The two first classes may be briefly instanced
together in America, where the light-side and shadow-side
(as Dr. <abbr rend=spell>J. G.</abbr> Müller well calls them) of the conception of a
future life are broadly contrasted in the definitions of the
Lord of the Dead. Among the Northern Indians this may
be Tarenyawagon the Heaven-God, identified with the Great
Spirit, who receives good warriors in his happy hunting-grounds,
or his grandmother, the Death-goddess Atahentsic.[#]
In Brazil, the Under-world-god, who places good warriors
and sorcerers in Paradise, contrasts with Aygnan the evil
deity who takes base and cowardly Tupi souls,[#] much as
the Mexican Tlaloc, Water-god and lord of the earthly
paradise, contrasts with Mictlanteuctli, ruler of the dismal
dead-land in the shades below.[#] In Peru there has been
placed on record a belief that the departed spirits went to
be with the Creator and Teacher of the World—‘Bring us
too near to thee ... that we may be fortunate, being near
to thee, O Uira-cocha!’ There are also statements as to
an under-world of shades, the land of the demon Supay.[#]
Accounts of this class must often be suspected of giving
ideas mis-stated under European influence, or actually
adopted from Europeans, but there is in some a look of
untouched genuineness. Thus in Polynesia, the idea of a
Devil borrowed from colonists or missionaries may be suspected
in such a figure as the evil deity Wiro, chief of
Reigna, the New Zealander’s western world of departed
souls. But few conceptions of deity are more quaintly
original than that of the Samoan deity Saveasiuleo, at once
// File: 318.png
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ruler of destinies of war and other affairs of men and
chief of the subterranean Bulotū, with the human upper
half of his body reclining in his great house in company
with the spirits of departed chiefs, while his tail or extremity
stretches far away into the sea, in the shape of an eel or
serpent. Under a name corresponding dialectically (Siuleo = Hikuleo),
this composite being reappears in the kindred
myths of the neighbouring group, the Tonga Islands. The
Tongan Hikuleo has his home in the spirit-land of Bulotū,
here conceived as out in the far western sea. Here we are
told the use of his tail. His body goes away on journeys,
but his tail remains watching in Bulotū, and thus he is
aware of what goes on in more places than one. Hikuleo
used to carry off the first-born sons of Tongan chiefs, to
people his island of the blest, and he so thinned the ranks
of the living that at last the other gods were moved to
compassion. Tangaloa and Maui seized Hikuleo, passed a
strong chain round him, and fastened one end to heaven
and the other to earth. Another god of the dead, of well-marked
native type, is the Rarotongan Tiki, an ancestral
deity as in New Zealand, to whose long house, a place
of unceasing joys, the dead are to find their way.[#] Among
Turanian tribes, there are Samoyeds who believe in a deity
called ‘A,’ dwelling in impenetrable darkness, sending disease
and death to men and reindeer, and ruling over a crowd of
spirits which are manes of the dead. Tatars tell of the
nine Irle-Chans, who in their gloomy subterranean kingdom
not only rule over souls of the dead, but have at their command
a multitude of ministering spirits, visible and invisible.
In the gloomy under-world of the Finns reigns Mana or
Tuoni, a being whose nature is worked out by personification
from the dismal dead-land or death itself.[#] Much the
// File: 319.png
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same may be said of the Greek Aidēs, Hades, and the
Scandinavian Hel, whose names, perhaps not so much by
confusion as with a sense of their latent significance, have
become identified in language with the doleful abodes over
which a personifying fancy set them to preside.[#] As appropriately,
though working out a different idea, the ancient
Egyptians conceived their great solar deity to rule in the
regions of his western under-world—Osiris is Lord of the
Dead in Amenti.[#]

In the world’s assembly of great gods, an important place
must be filled up by the manes-worshipper in logical
development of his special system. The theory of family
manes, carried back to tribal gods, leads to the recognition
of superior deities of the nature of Divine Ancestor or First
Man, and it is of course reasonable that such a being, if
recognized, should sometimes fill the place of lord of the
dead, whose ancestral chief he is. There is an anecdote
among the Mandans told by Prince Maximilian von Wied,
which brings into view conceptions lying in the deepest
recesses of savage religion, the idea of the divine first
ancestor, the mythic connexion of the sun’s death and
descent into the under-world, with the like fate of man and
the nature of the spiritual intercourse between man’s own
soul and his deity. The First Man, it is said, promised
the Mandans to be their helper in time of need, and then
departed into the West. It came to pass that the Mandans
were attacked by foes. One Mandan would send a bird to
the great ancestor to ask for help, but no bird could fly so
far. Another thought a look would reach him, but the hills
walled him in. Then said a third, thought must be the
safest way to reach the First Man. He wrapped himself in
his buffalo-robe, fell down, and spoke, ‘I think—I have
thought—I come back.’ Throwing off the fur, he was
bathed in sweat. The divine helper he had called on in his
// File: 320.png
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distress appeared.[#] There is instructive variety in the ways
in which the lower American races work out the conception
of the divine forefather. The Mingo tribes revere and
make offerings to the First Man, he who was saved at the
great deluge, as a powerful deity under the Master of Life,
or even as identified with him; some Mississippi Indians
said that the First Man ascended into heaven, and thunders
there; among the Dog-ribs, he was creator of sun and
moon;[#] Tamoi, the grandfather and ancient of heaven of
the Guaranis, was their first ancestor, who dwelt among
them and taught them to till the soil, and rose to heaven in
the east, promising to succour them on earth, and at death
to carry them from the sacred tree into a new life where
they should all meet again, and have much hunting.[#]

Polynesia, again, has thoroughly worked the theory of
divine ancestors into the native system of multiform and
blending nature-deities. Men are sprung from the divine
Maui, whom Europeans have therefore called the ‘Adam
of New Zealand,’ or from the Rarotongan Tiki, who seems
his equivalent (Mauitiki), and who again is the Tii of
the Society Islands; it is, however, the son of Tii who
precisely represents a Polynesian Adam, for his name is
Taata, i.e., Man, and he is the ancestor of the human race.
There is perhaps also reason to identify Maui and the First
Man with Akea, first King of Hawaii, who at his earthly
death descended to rule over his dark subterranean kingdom,
where his subjects are the dead who recline under the
spreading kou-trees, and drink of the infernal rivers, and
feed on lizards and butterflies.[#] In the mythology of Kamchatka,
the relation between the Creator and the First Man
is one not of identity but of parentage. Among the sons of
// File: 321.png
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Kutka the Creator is Haetsh the First Man, who dwelt on
earth, and died, and descended into Hades to be chief of
the under-world; there he receives the dead and new-risen
Kamchadals, to continue a life like that of earth in his
pleasant subterranean land where mildness and plenty prevail,
as they did in the regions above in the old days when
the Creator was still on earth.[#] Among all the lower races
who have reasoned out this divine ancestor, none excel
those consistent manes-worshippers, the Zulus. Their
worship of the manes of the dead has not only made the
clan-ancestors of a few generations back into tribal deities
(Unkulunkulu), but beyond these, too far off and too little
known for actual worship, yet recognized as the original
race-deity and identified with the Creator, stands the First
Man, he who ‘broke off in the beginning,’ the Old-Old-One,
the great Unkulunkulu. While the Zulu’s most
intense religious emotions are turned to the ghosts of the
departed, while he sacrifices his beloved oxen and prays
with agonising entreaty to his grandfather, and carries his
tribal worship back to those ancestral deities whose praise-giving
names are still remembered, the First Man is beyond
the reach of such rites. ‘At first we saw that we were
made by Unkulunkulu. But when we were ill we did not
worship him, nor ask anything of him. We worshipped
those whom we had seen with our eyes, their death and
their life among us.... Unkulunkulu had no longer a
son who could worship him; there was no going back to
the beginning, for people increased, and were scattered
abroad, and each house had its own connections; there
was no one who said, “For my part I am of the house of
Unkulunkulu.”’ Nay more, the Zulus who would not dare
to affront an ‘idhlozi,’ a common ghost, that might be
angry and kill them, have come to make open mock of the
name of the great first ancestor. When the grown-up
people wish to talk privately or eat something by themselves,
it is the regular thing to send the children out to
// File: 322.png
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call at the top of their voices for Unkulunkulu. ‘The
name of Unkulunkulu has no respect paid to it among black
men; for his house no longer exists. It is now like
the name of a very old crone, who has no power to do
even a little thing for herself, but sits continually where she
sat in the morning till the sun sets. And the children
make sport of her, for she cannot catch them and flog them,
but only talk with her mouth. Just so is the name of Unkulunkulu
when all the children are told to go and call him.
He is now a means of making sport of children.’[#]

In Aryan religion, the divinities just described give us
analogues for the Hindu Yama, throughout his threefold
nature as First Man, as solar God of Hades, as Judge of the
Dead. Professor Max Müller thus suggests his origin,
which may indeed be inferred from his being called the
child of Vivasvat, himself the Sun: ‘The sun, conceived
as setting or dying every day, was the first who had
trodden the path of life from East to West—the first
mortal—the first to show us the way when our course is
run, and our sun sets in the far West. Thither the fathers
followed Yama; there they sit with him rejoicing, and
thither we too shall go when his messengers (day and night)
have found us out.... Yama is said to have crossed the
rapid waters, to have shown the way to many, to have first
known the path on which our fathers crossed over.’ It is
a perfectly consistent myth-formation, that the solar Yama
should become the first of mortals who died and discovered
the way to the other world, who guides other men thither
and assembles them in a home which is secured to them for
ever. As representative of death, Yama had even in early
Aryan times his aspects of terror, and in later Indian theology
he becomes not only the Lord but the awful Judge of
the Dead, whom some modern Hindus are said to worship
alone of all the gods, alleging that their future state is to
be determined only by Yama, and that they have nothing
therefore to hope or fear from any beside him. In these
// File: 323.png
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days, Hindu and Parsi in Bombay are learning from
scholars in Europe the ancient connexion of their long
antagonistic faiths, and have to hear that Yama son of
Visavat sitting on his awful judgment-seat of the dead, to
reward the good and punish the wicked with hideous
tortures, and Yima son of Vivanhâo who in primæval days
reigned over his happy deathless kingdom of good Zarathustrian
men, are but two figures developed in the course of
ages out of one and the same Aryan nature-myth.[#] Within
the limits of Jewish, Christian, and Moslem theology, the
First Man scarcely occupies more than a place of precedence
among the human race in Hades or in Heaven, not
the high office of Lord of the Dead. Yet that tendency to
deify an ideal ancestor, which we observe to act so strongly
on lower races, has taken effect also here. The Rabbinical
Adam is a gigantic being reaching from earth to heaven, for
the definition of whose stature Rabbi Eliezer cites Deuteronomy
iv. 32, ‘God made man (Adam) upon the earth,
and from one end of heaven to the other.’[#] It is one of
the familiar episodes of the Koran, how the angels were
bidden to bow down before Adam, the regent of Allah upon
earth, and how Eblis (Diabolus) swelling with pride, refused
the act of adoration.[#] Among the Gnostic sect of the
Valentinians, Adam the primal man in whom the Deity
had revealed himself, stood as earthly representative of the
Demiurge, and was even counted among the Æons.[#]

The figures of the great deities of Polytheism, thus
traced in outline according to the determining idea on
which each is shaped, seem to show that conceptions
originating under rude and primitive conditions of human
thought and passing thence into the range of higher culture,
// File: 324.png
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may suffer in the course of ages the most various fates, to
be expanded, elaborated, transformed, or abandoned. Yet
the philosophy of modern ages still to a remarkable degree
follows the primitive courses of savage thought, even as the
highways of our land so often follow the unchanging tracks
of barbaric roads. Let us endeavour timidly and circumspectly
to trace onward from savage times the courses of
vast and pregnant generalization which tend towards the
two greatest of the world’s schemes of religious doctrine,
the systems of Dualism and Monotheism.

Rudimentary forms of Dualism, the antagonism of a Good
and Evil Deity, are well known among the lower races of
mankind. The investigation of these savage and barbaric
doctrines, however, is a task demanding peculiar caution.
The Europeans in contact with these rude tribes since their
discovery, themselves for the most part holding strongly
dualistic forms of Christianity, to the extent of practically
subjecting the world to the contending influences of armies
of good and evil spirits under the antagonistic control of
God and Devil, were liable on the one hand to mistake
and exaggerate savage ideas in this direction, so that their
records of native religion can only be accepted with reserve,
while on the other hand there is no doubt that dualistic
ideas have been largely introduced and developed among the
savages themselves, under this same European influence.
For instance, among the natives of Australia, we hear of
the great deity Nambajandi who dwells in his heavenly
paradise, where the happy shades of black men feast and
dance and sing for evermore; over against him stands the
great evil being Warrūgūra, who dwells in the nethermost
regions, who causes the great calamities which befall mankind,
and whom the natives represent with horns and tail,
although no horned beast is indigenous in the land.[#] There
may be more or less native substratum in all this, but the
hints borrowed from popular Christian ideas are unmistakeable.
// File: 325.png
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Thus also, among the North American Indians, the
native religion was modified under the influence of ideas
borrowed from the white men, and there arose a full
dualistic scheme, of which Loskiel, a Moravian missionary
conversant especially with Algonquin and Iroquois tribes,
gives the following suggestive particulars, dating from 1794.
‘They (the Indians) first received in modern times through
the Europeans the idea of the Devil, the Prince of Darkness.
They consider him as a very mighty spirit, who can only
do evil, and therefore call him the Evil One. Thus
they now believe in a great good and a great evil spirit;
to the one they ascribe all good, and to the other all evil.
About thirty years ago, a remarkable change took place in
the religious opinions of the Indians. Some preachers of
their own nation pretended to have received revelations
from above, to have travelled into heaven, and conversed
with God. They gave different accounts of their journey
to heaven, but all agreed in this, that no one could arrive
there without great danger; for the road runs close by
the gates of hell. There the Devil lies in ambush, and
snatches at every one who is going to God. Now those
who have passed by this dangerous place unhurt, come first
to the Son of God, and from him to God himself, from
whom they pretend to have received a commandment, to
instruct the Indians in the way to heaven. By them
the Indians were informed that heaven was the dwelling
of God, and hell that of the Devil. Some of these
preachers had not indeed reached the dwelling of God,
but professed to have approached near enough to hear the
cocks in heaven crow, or to see the smoke of the chimneys
in heaven, &c., &c.’[#]

Such unequivocal proofs that savage tribes can adopt and
work into the midst of their native beliefs the European
doctrine of the Good and Evil Spirit, must induce us to
criticize keenly all recorded accounts of the religion of uncultured
// File: 326.png
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tribes, lest we should mistake the confused reflexion
of Christendom for the indigenous theology of Australia or
Canada. It is the more needful to bring this state of things
into the clearest light, in order that the religion of the lower
tribes may be placed in its proper relation to the religion
of the higher nations. Genuine savage faiths do in fact
bring to our view what seem to be rudimentary forms of
ideas which underlie dualistic theological schemes among
higher nations. It is certain that even among rude savage
hordes, native thought has already turned toward the deep
problem of good and evil. Their crude though earnest
speculation has already tried to solve the great mystery
which still resists the efforts of moralists and theologians.
But as in general the animistic doctrine of the lower races
is not yet an ethical institution, but a philosophy of man
and nature, so savage dualism is not yet a theory of abstract
moral principles, but a theory of pleasure or pain, profit or
loss, affecting the individual man, his family, or at the
utmost stretch, his people. This narrow and rudimentary
distinction between good and evil was not unfairly stated by
the savage who explained that if anybody took away his wife,
that would be bad, but if he himself took someone’s else’s, that
would be good. Now by the savage or barbarian mind, the
spiritual beings which by their personal action account for
the events of life and the operations of nature, are apt to
be regarded as kindly or hostile, sometimes or always, like
the human beings on whose type they are so obviously
modelled. In such a case, we may well judge by the safe
analogy of disembodied human souls, and it appears that
these are habitually regarded as sometimes friends and
sometimes foes of the living. Nothing could be more conclusive
in this respect than an account of the three days’
battle between two factions of Zulu ghosts for the life of
a man and wife whom the one spiritual party desired to
destroy and the other to save; the defending spirits prevailed,
dug up the bewitched charm-bags which had been
buried to cause sympathetic disease, and flung these objects
// File: 327.png
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into the midst of the assembly of the people watching in
silence, just as the spirits now fling real flowers at a table-rapping
séance.[#] For spirits less closely belonging to the
definition of ghosts, may be taken Rochefort’s remarks in the
<abbr=seventeenth>17th</abbr> century as to the two sorts of spirits, good and bad,
recognized by the Caribs of the West Indies. This writer
declares that their good spirits or divinities are in fact so
many demons who seduce them and keep them enchained
in their damnable servitude; but nevertheless, he says,
the people themselves do distinguish them from their evil
spirits.[#] Nor can we pronounce this distinction of theirs
unreasonable, learning from other authorities that it was
the office of some of these spirits to attend men as familiar
genii, and of others to inflict diseases. After the numerous
details which have incidentally been cited in the present
volumes, it will be needless to offer farther proof that
spiritual beings are really conceived by savages and barbarians
as ranged in antagonistic ranks as good and evil, i.e.,
friendly and hostile to themselves. The interesting enquiry
on which it is here desirable to collect evidence, is this:
how far are the doctrines of the higher nations anticipated
in principle among the lower tribes, in the assignment of
the conduct of the universe to two mighty hostile beings, in
whom the contending powers of good and evil are personified,
the Good Deity and the Evil Deity, each the head
and ruler of a spiritual host like-minded? The true answer
seems to be that savage belief displays to us the primitive
conceptions which, when developed in systematic form and
attached to ethical meaning, take their place in religious
systems of which the Zoroastrian is the type.

First, when in district after district two special deities
with special native names are contrasted in native religion
as the Good and Evil Deity, it is in some cases easier to
explain these beings as native at least in origin, than to
suppose that foreign intercourse should have exerted the
// File: 328.png
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consistent and far-reaching influence needed to introduce
them. Second, when the deities in question are actually
polytheistic gods, such as Sun, Moon, Heaven, Earth, considered
as of good or evil, i.e., favourable or unfavourable
aspect, this looks like native development, not innovation
derived from a foreign religion ignoring such divinities.
Third, when it is held that the Good Deity is remote and
otiose, but the Evil Deity present and active, and worship
is therefore directed especially to the propitiation of the
hostile principle, we have here a conception which appears
native in the lower culture, rather than derived from the
higher culture to which it is unfamiliar and even hateful.
Now Dualism, as prevailing among the lower races, will be
seen in a considerable degree to assert its originality by
satisfying one or more of these conditions.

There have been recorded among the Indians of North
America a group of mythic beliefs, which display the fundamental
idea of dualism in the very act of germinating in
savage religion. Yet the examination of these myths leads
us first to destructive criticism of a picturesque but not
ancient member of the series. An ethnologist, asked to
point out the most striking savage dualistic legend of the
world, would be likely to name the celebrated Iroquois myth
of the Twin Brethren. The current version of this legend
is that set down in 1825 by the Christian chief of the Tuscaroras,
David Cusick, as the belief of his people. Among
the ancients, he relates, there were two worlds, the lower
world in darkness and possessed by monsters, the upper
world inhabited by mankind. A woman near her travail
sank from this upper region to the dark world below. She
alighted on a Tortoise, prepared to receive her with a little
earth on his back, which Tortoise became an island. The
celestial mother bore twin sons into the dark world, and
died. The tortoise increased to a great island, and the
twins grew up. One was of gentle disposition, and was
called Enigorio, the Good Mind, the other was of insolent
character, and was named Enigonhahetgea, the Bad Mind.
// File: 329.png
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The Good Mind, not contented to remain in darkness,
wished to create a great light; the Bad Mind desired that
the world should remain in its natural state. The Good
Mind took his dead mother’s head and made it the sun, and
of a remnant of her body he made the moon. These were
to give light to the day and to the night. Also he created
many spots of light, now stars: these were to regulate the
days, nights, seasons, years. Where the light came upon
the dark world, the monsters were displeased, and hid
themselves in the depths, lest man should find them. The
Good Mind continued the creation, formed many creeks and
rivers on the Great Island, created small and great beasts
to inhabit the forests, and fishes to inhabit the waters.
When he had made the universe, he doubted concerning
beings to possess the Great Island. He formed two images
of the dust of the ground in his own likeness, male and
female, and by breathing into their nostrils gave them
living souls, and named them Ea-gwe-howe, that is ‘real
people;’ and he gave the Great Island all the animals
of game for their maintenance; he appointed thunder
to water the earth by frequent rains; the island became
fruitful, and vegetation afforded to the animals subsistence.
The Bad Mind went throughout the island and made high
mountains and waterfalls and great steeps, and created reptiles
injurious to mankind; but the Good Mind restored
the island to its former condition. The Bad Mind made
two clay images in the form of man, but while he was giving
them existence they became apes; and so on. The Good
Mind accomplished the works of creation, notwithstanding
the imaginations of the Bad Mind were continually evil;
thus he attempted to enclose all the animals of game in the
earth away from mankind, but his brother set them free,
and traces of them were made on the rocks near the cave
where they were shut in. At last the brethren came to
single combat for the mastery of the universe. The Good
Mind falsely persuaded the Bad Mind that whipping with
flags would destroy his own life, but he himself used the
// File: 330.png
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deer-horns, the instrument of death. After a two days’
fight, the Good Mind slew his brother and crushed him in
the earth; and the last words of the Bad Mind were that
he would have equal power over men’s souls after death,
then he sank down to eternal doom and became the Evil
Spirit. The Good Mind visited the people, and then retired
from the earth.[#]

This is a graphic tale. Its versions of the cosmic myth
of the World-Tortoise, and its apparent philosophical myth
of fossil footprints, have much mythological interest. But
its Biblical copying extends to the very phraseology, and
only partial genuineness can be allowed to its main theme.
Dr. Brinton has shown from early American writers how
much dualistic fancy has sprung up since the times of first
intercourse between natives and white men. When this
legend is compared with the earlier version given by Father
Brebeuf, missionary to the Hurons in 1636, we find its
whole complexion altered; the moral dualism vanishes;
the names of Good and Bad Mind do not appear; it is the
story of Ioskeha the White One, with his brother Tawiscara
the Dark One, and we at once perceive that Christian influence
in the course of two centuries had given the tale a
meaning foreign to its real intent. Yet to go back to the
earliest sources and examine this myth of the White One
and the Dark One, proves it to be itself a perfect example of
the rise of primitive dualism in the savage mind. Father
Brebeuf’s story is as follows: Aataentsic the Moon fell
from heaven on earth, and bore two sons, Taouiscaron and
Iouskeha, who being grown up quarrelled; judge, he says,
if there be not in this a touch of the death of Abel. They
came to combat, but with very different weapons. Iouskeha
had a stag-horn, Taouiscaron contented himself with some
wild-rose berries, persuading himself that as soon as he
should thus smite his brother, he would fall dead at his
// File: 331.png
.pn +1
feet; but it fell out quite otherwise than he had promised
himself, and Iouskeha struck him so heavy a blow in the
side that the blood gushed forth in streams. The poor
wretch fled, and from his blood which fell upon the land
came the flints which the savages still call Taouiscara,
from the victim’s name. From this we see it to be true
that the original myth of the two brothers, the White One
and the Dark One, had no moral element. It seems mere
nature-myth, the contest between Day and Night, for the
Hurons knew that Iouskeha was the Sun, even as his
mother or grandmother Aataentsic was the Moon. Yet in
the contrast between these two, the Huron mind had
already come to the rudimentary contrast of the Good and
Evil Deity. Iouskeha the Sun, it is expressly said, seemed
to the Indians their benefactor; their kettle would not
boil were it not for him; it was he who learnt from the
Tortoise the art of making fire; without him they would
have no luck in hunting; it is he who makes the corn
to grow. Iouskeha the Sun takes care for the living and
all things concerning life, and therefore, says the missionary,
they say he is good. But Aataentsic the Moon,
the creatress of earth and man, makes men die and has
charge of their departed souls, and they say she is evil.
The Sun and Moon dwell together in their cabin at the end
of the earth, and thither it was that the Indians made the
mythic journey of which various episodes have been more
than once cited here; true to their respective characters,
the Sun receives the travellers kindly and saves them from
the harm the beauteous but hurtful Moon would have done
them. Another missionary of still earlier time identifies
Iouskeha with the supreme deity Atahocan: ‘Iouskeha,’ he
says, ‘is good and gives growth and fair weather; his
grandmother Eatahentsic is wicked and spoils.’[#] Thus in
early Iroquois legend, the Sun and Moon, as god and goddess
// File: 332.png
.pn +1
of Day and Night, had already acquired the characters
of the great friend and enemy of man, the Good and Evil
Deity. And as to the related cosmic legend of Day and
Night, contrasted in the persons of the two brothers, the
White One and the Dark One, though this was originally
pure unethic nature-myth, yet it naturally took the same
direction among the half-Europeanized Indians of later
times, becoming a moral myth of Good and Evil. The idea
comes to full maturity in the modern shaping of Iroquois
religion, where the good and great deity Häwenneyu the
Ruler has opposed to him a rival deity keeping the same
name as in the myth, Hänegoategeh the Evil-minded. We
have thus before us the profoundly interesting fact, that
the rude North American Indians have more than once
begun the same mythologic transition which in ancient Asia
shaped the contrast of light and darkness into the contrast
of righteousness and wickedness, by following out the same
thought which still in the European mind arrays in the
hostile forms of Light and Darkness the contending powers
of Good and Evil.

Judging by such evidence, at once of the rudimentary
dualism springing up in savage animism, and of the
tendency of this to amalgamate with similar thought
brought in by foreign intercourse, it is possible to account
for many systems of the dualistic class found in the native
religions of America. While the evidence may lead us to
agree with Waitz that the North American Indian dualism,
the most distinct and universal feature of their religion, is
not to be altogether referred to a modern Christian origin,
yet care must be taken not to claim as the result of primitive
religious development what shows signs of being
borrowed civilized theology. The records remain of the
Jesuit missionary teaching under which the Algonquins
came to use their native term Manitu, that is, spirit or
demon, in speaking of the Christian God and Devil as the
good and the evil Manitu. Still later, the Great Spirit and
the Evil Spirit, Kitchi Manitu and Matchi Manitu, gained
// File: 333.png
.pn +1
a wider place in the beliefs of North American tribes, who
combined these adopted Christian conceptions with older
native beliefs in powers of light and warmth and life and
protection, of darkness and cold and death and destruction.
Thus the two great antagonistic Beings became chiefs of the
kindly and harmful spirits pervading the world and struggling
for the mastery over it. Here the nature-religion of
the savage was expanded and developed rather than set on
foot by the foreigner. Among other American races, such
combinations of foreign and native religious ideas are easy
to find, though hard to analyse. In the extreme north-west,
we may doubt any native origin in the semi-Christianized
Kodiak’s definition of Shljem Shoá the creator of heaven
and earth, to whom offerings were made before and after
the hunt, as contrasted with Ijak the bad spirit dwelling
in the earth. In the extreme south-east may be found more
originality among the Floridan Indians two or three centuries
ago, for they are said to have paid solemn worship
to the Bad Spirit Toia who plagued them with visions, but
to have had small regard for the Good Spirit, who troubles
himself little about mankind.[#] On the southern continent,
Martius makes this characteristic remark as to the rude
tribes of Brazil: ‘All Indians have a lively conviction of
the power of an evil principle over them; in many there
dawns also a glimpse of the good; but they revere the one
less than they fear the other. It might be thought that
they hold the Good Being weaker in relation to the fate of
man than the evil.’ This generalization is to some extent
supported by statements as to particular tribes. The
Macusis are said to recognize the good creator Macunaima,
‘he who works by night,’ and his evil adversary Epel or
Horiuch: of these people it is observed that ‘All the powers
of nature are products of the Good Spirit, when they do
// File: 334.png
.pn +1
not disturb the Indian’s rest and comfort, but the work of
evil spirits when they do.’ Uauüloa and Locozy, the good
and evil deity of the Yumanas, live above the earth and
toward the sun; the Evil Deity is feared by these savages,
but the Good Deity will come to eat fruit with the departed
and take their souls to his dwelling, wherefore they bury
the dead each doubled up in his great earthen pot, with
fruit in his lap, and looking toward the sunrise. Even the
rude Botocudos are thought to recognize antagonistic principles
of good and evil in the persons of the Sun and Moon.[#]
This idea has especial interest from its correspondence on
the one hand with that of the Iroquois tribes, and on the
other with that of the comparatively civilized Muyscas of
Bogota, whose good deity is unequivocally a mythic Sun,
thwarted in his kindly labours for man by his wicked wife
Huythaca the Moon.[#] The native religion of Chili is said
to have placed among the subaltern deities Meulen, the
friend of man, and Huecuvu the bad spirit and author of
evil. These people can hardly have learnt from Christianity
to conceive their evil spirit as simply and fully the general
cause of misfortune: if the earth quakes, Huecuvu has given
it a shock; if a horse tires, Huecuvu has ridden him; if
a man falls sick, Huecuvu has sent the disease into his
body, and no man dies but that Huecuvu suffocates him.[#]

In Africa, again, allowing for Moslem influence, dualism
is not ill represented in native religion. An old account
from Loango describes the natives as theoretically recognizing
Zambi the supreme deity, creator of good and lover of
justice, and over against him Zambi-anbi the destroyer, the
counsellor of crime, the author of loss and accident, of
disease and death. But when it comes to actual worship, as
// File: 335.png
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the good god will always be favourable, it is the god of evil
who must be appeased, and it is for his satisfaction that men
abstain some from one kind of food and some from another.[#]
Among accounts of the two rival deities in West Africa, one
describes the Guinea negroes as recognizing below the Supreme
Deity two spirits (or classes of spirits), Ombwiri and
Onyambe, the one kind and gentle, doing good to men and
rescuing them from harm, the other hateful and wicked,
whose seldom mentioned name is heard with uneasiness and
displeasure.[#] It would be scarcely profitable, in an enquiry
where accurate knowledge of the doctrine of any insignificant
tribe is more to the purpose than vague speculation on
the theology of the mightiest nation, to dwell on the enigmatic
traces of ancient Egyptian dualism. Suffice it to say
that the two brother-deities Osiris and Seti, Osiris the beneficent
solar divinity whose nature the blessed dead took on
them, Seti perhaps a rival national god degraded to a Typhon,
seem to have become the representative figures of a contrasted
scheme of light and darkness, good and evil; the sculptured
granite still commemorates the contests of their long-departed
sects, where the hieroglyphic square-eared beast of
Seti has been defaced to substitute for it the figure of Osiris.[#]

The conception of the light-god as the good deity in contrast
to a rival god of evil, is one plainly suggested by
nature, and naturally recurring in the religions of the world.
The Khonds of Orissa may be counted its most perfect
modern exponents in barbaric culture. To their supreme
creative deity, Būra Pennu or Bella Pennu, Light-god or
Sun-god, there stands opposed his evil consort Tari Pennu
the Earth-goddess, and the history of good and evil in the
world is the history of his work and her counterwork. He
created a world paradisaic, happy, harmless; she rebelled
against him, and to blast the lot of his new creature, man,
// File: 336.png
.pn +1
she brought in disease, and poison, and all disorder, ‘sowing
the seeds of sin in mankind as in a ploughed field.’

Death became the divine punishment of wickedness, the
spontaneously fertile earth went to jungle and rock and
mud, plants and animals grew poisonous and fierce, throughout
nature good and evil were commingled, and still the
fight goes on between the two great powers. So far all
Khonds agree, and it is on the practical relation of good
and evil that they split into their two hostile sects of Būra
and Tari. Būra’s sect hold that he triumphed over Tari,
in sign of her discomfiture imposed the cares of childbirth
on her sex, and makes her still his subject instrument
wherewith to punish; Tari’s sect hold that she still maintains
the struggle, and even practically disposes of the happiness
of man, doing evil or good on her own account, and
allowing or not allowing the Creator’s blessings to reach
mankind.[#]

Now that the sacred books of the Zend-Avesta are open
to us, it is possible to compare the doctrines of savage
tribes with those of the great faith through which of all
others Dualism seems to have impressed itself on the
higher nations. The religion of Zarathustra was a schism
from that ancient Aryan nature-worship which is represented
in a pure and early form in the Veda, and in depravity and
decay in modern Hinduism. The leading thought of the
Zarathustrian faith was the contest of Good and Evil in the
world, a contrast typified and involved in that of Day and
Night, Light and Darkness, and brought to personal shape
in the warfare of Ahura-Mazda and Anra-Mainyu, the Good
and Evil Deity, Ormuzd and Ahriman. The prophet
Zarathustra said: ‘In the beginning there was a pair of
twins, two spirits, each of a peculiar activity. These are
the good and the base in thought, word, and deed. Choose
one of these two spirits. Be good, not base!’ The sacred
Vendidad begins with the record of the primæval contest of
the two principles. Ahura-Mazda created the best of regions
// File: 337.png
.pn +1
and lands, the Aryan home, Sogdia, Bactria, and the rest;
Anra-Mainyu against his work created snow and pestilence,
buzzing insects and poisonous plants, poverty and sickness,
sin and unbelief. The modern Parsi, in passages of his
formularies of confession, still keeps alive the old antagonism.
I repent, he says, of all kind of sins which the evil Ahriman
produced amongst the creatures of Ormuzd in opposition.
‘That which was the wish of Ormazd the Creator, and I
ought to have thought and have not thought, what I ought
to have spoken and have not spoken, what I ought to have
done and have not done; of these sins repent I with
thoughts, words, and works, corporeal as well as spiritual,
earthly as well as heavenly, with the three words: Pardon,
O Lord, I repent of sin. That which was the wish of
Ahriman, and I ought not to have thought and yet have
thought, what I ought not to have spoken and yet have
spoken, what I ought not to have done and yet have done;
of these sins repent I with thoughts, words, and works,
corporeal as well as spiritual, earthly as well as heavenly,
with the three words: Pardon, O Lord, I repent of sin.’ ...
‘May Ahriman be broken, may Ormazd increase.’[#]
The Izedis or Yezidis, the so-called Devil-worshippers, still
remain a numerous though oppressed people in Mesopotamia
and adjacent countries. Their adoration of the sun and
horror of defiling fire accord with the idea of a Persian
origin of their religion (Persian ized = god), an origin underlying
more superficial admixture of Christian and Moslem
elements. This remarkable sect is distinguished by a
special form of dualism. While recognizing the existence
of a Supreme Being, their peculiar reverence is given to
Satan, chief of the angelic host, who now has the means of
doing evil to mankind, and in his restoration will have the
power of rewarding them. ‘Will not Satan then reward
the poor Izedis, who alone have never spoken ill of him, and
have suffered so much for him?’ Martyrdom for the rights
// File: 338.png
.pn +1
of Satan! exclaims the German traveller to whom an old
white-bearded devil-worshipper thus set forth the hopes of
his religion.[#]

Direct worship of the Evil Principle, familiar as it is to
low barbaric races, is scarcely to be found among people
higher in civilization than these persecuted and stubborn
sectaries of Western Asia. So far as such ideas extend in
the development of religion, they seem fair evidence how
far worship among low tribes turns rather on fear than love.
That the adoration of a Good Deity should have more and
more superseded the propitiation of an Evil Deity, is the
sign of one of the great movements in the education of
mankind, a result of happier experience of life, and of
larger and more gladsome views of the system of the
universe. It is not, however, through the inactive systems
of modern Parsism and Izedism that the mighty Zoroastrian
dualism has exerted its main influence on mankind. We
must look back to long-past ages for traces of its contact
with Judaism and Christianity. It is often and reasonably
thought that intercourse between Jews and ancient Persians
was an effective agent in producing that theologic change
which differences the later Jew of the Rabbinical books from
the earlier Jew of the Pentateuch, a change in which one important
part is the greater prominence of the dualistic scheme.
So in later times (about the fourth century), the contact of
Zoroastrism and Christianity appears to have been influential
in producing Manichæism. Manichæism is known mostly on
the testimony of its adversaries, but thus much seems clear,
that it is based on the very doctrine of the two antagonistic
principles of good and evil, of spirit and matter. It sets on
the one hand God, original good and source of good alone,
primal light and lord of the kingdom of light, and on the
other hand the Prince of Darkness, with his kingdom of
darkness, of matter, of confusion, and destruction. The
theory of ceaseless conflict between these contending
// File: 339.png
.pn +1
powers becomes a key to the physical and moral nature and
course of the universe.[#] Among Christian or semi-Christian
sects, the Manichæans stand as representatives of dualism
pushed to its utmost development. It need scarcely be said,
however, that Christian dualism is not bounded by the
limits of this or that special sect. In so far as the Evil
Being, with his subordinate powers of darkness, is held to
exist and act in any degree in independence of the Supreme
Deity and his ministering spirits of light, so far theological
schools admit, though in widely different grades of importance,
a philosophy of nature and of life which has its basis
rather in dualism than in monotheism.

We now turn to the last objects of our present survey,
those theological beliefs of the lower tribes of mankind
which point more or less distinctly toward a doctrine of
Monotheism. Here it is by no means proposed to examine
savage ideas from the point of view of doctrinal theology,
an undertaking which would demand arguments quite
beyond the present range. Their treatment is limited to
classifying the actual beliefs of the lower races, with some
ethnographic considerations as to their origin and their
relation to higher religions. For this purpose it is desirable
to distinguish the prevalent doctrines of the uncultured
world from absolute monotheism. At the outset, care is
needed to exclude an ambiguity of which the importance
often goes unnoticed. How are the mighty but subordinate
divinities, recognized in different religions, to be classed?
Beings who in Christian or Moslem theology would be
called angels, saints, demons, would under the same definitions
be called deities in polytheistic systems. This is
obvious, but we may realize it more distinctly from its
actually having happened. The Chuwashes, a race of
Tatar affinity, are stated to reverence a god of Death,
who takes to himself the souls of the departed, and whom
they call Esrel; it is curious that Castrén, in mentioning
// File: 340.png
.pn +1
this, should fail to point out that this deity is no other than
Azrael the angel of death, adopted under Moslem influence.[#]
Again, in the mixed Pagan and Christian religion of the
Circassians, which at least in its recently prevalent form
would be reckoned polytheistic, there stand beneath the
Supreme Being a number of mighty subordinate deities, of
whom the principal are Iele the Thunder-god, Tleps the
Fire-god, Seoseres the god of Wind and Water, Misitcha
the Forest-god, and Mariam the Virgin Mary.[#] If the
monotheistic criterion be simply made to consist in the
Supreme Deity being held as creator of the universe and
chief of the spiritual hierarchy, then its application to
savage and barbaric theology will lead to perplexing consequences.
Races of North and South America, of Africa,
of Polynesia, recognizing a number of great deities, are
usually and reasonably considered polytheists, yet under
this definition their acknowledgment of a Supreme Creator,
of which various cases will here be shown, would entitle
them at the same time to the name of monotheists. To
mark off the doctrines of monotheism, closer definition
is required, assigning the distinctive attributes of deity to
none save the Almighty Creator. It may be declared that,
in this strict sense, no savage tribe of monotheists has been
ever known. Nor are any fair representatives of the lower
culture in a strict sense pantheists. The doctrine which
they do widely hold, and which opens to them a course
tending in one or other of these directions, is polytheism
culminating in the rule of one supreme divinity. High
above the doctrine of souls, of divine manes, of local nature-spirits,
of the great deities of class and element, there are
to be discerned in barbaric theology shadowings, quaint or
majestic, of the conception of a Supreme Deity, henceforth
to be traced onward in expanding power and brightening
glory along the history of religion. It is no unimportant
task, partial as it is, to select and group the typical data
// File: 341.png
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which show the nature and position of the doctrine of
supremacy, as it comes into view within the lower culture.

On the threshold of the investigation, there meets us the
same critical difficulty which obstructs the study of primitive
dualism. Among low tribes who have been in contact
with Christianity or Mohammedanism, how are we to tell to
what extent, under this foreign influence, dim, uncouth
ideas of divine supremacy may have been developed into
more cultured forms, or wholly foreign ideas implanted?
We know how the Jesuit missionaries led the native
Canadians to the conception of the Great Manitu; how
they took up the native Brazilian name of the divine
Thunder, Tupan, and adapted its meaning to convey in
Christian teaching the idea of God. Thus, again, we find
most distinctly-marked African ideas of a Supreme Deity
in the West, where intercourse with Moslems has actually
Islamized or semi-Islamized whole negro nations, and the
name of Allah is in all men’s mouths. The ethnographer
must be ever on the look-out for traces of such foreign
influence in the definition of the Supreme Deity acknowledged
by any uncultured race, a divinity whose nature
and even whose name may betray his adoption from
abroad. Thus the supreme Iroquois deity, Neo or Hawaneu,
the pre-existent creator, has been triumphantly adduced
to show the monotheism underlying the native creeds of
America. But it seems that this divinity was introduced
by the French Catholic missionaries, and that Niio is an
altered form of Dieu.[#] Among the list of supreme deities
of the lower races who are also held to be first ancestors
of man, we hear of Louquo, the uncreate first Carib, who
descended from the eternal heaven, made the flat earth, and
produced man from his own body. He lived long on earth
among men, died and came to life again after three days,
and returned to heaven.[#] It would be hardly reasonable
// File: 342.png
.pn +1
to enumerate, among genuine deities of native West Indian
religion, a being with characteristics thus on the face of
them adopted from the religion of the white men. Yet
even in such extreme cases, it does not necessarily follow
that the definitions of these deities, vitiated as they are for
ethnographical use by foreign influence, have not to some extent
a native substratum. In criticising details, moreover, it
must not be forgotten how largely the similarities in the religions
of different races may be of independent origin, and
how closely allied are many ideas in the rude native theologies
of savages to ideas holding an immemorial place in the
religions of their civilized invaders. For the present purpose,
however, it is well to dwell especially on such evidence
as by characteristic traits or early date is farthest removed
from suspicion of being borrowed from a foreign source.

In surveying the peoples of the world, the ethnographer
finds many who are not shown to have any definite conception
of a supreme deity; and even where such a conception
is placed on record, it is sometimes so vaguely asserted, or
on such questionable authority, that he can but take note
of it and pass on. In numerous cases, however, illustrated
by the following collection from different regions, certain
leading ideas, singly or blended, may be traced. There
are many savage and barbaric religions which solve their
highest problem by the simple process of raising to divine
primacy one of the gods of polytheism itself. Even the
system of the manes-worshipper has been stretched to reach
the limit of supreme deity, in the person of the primæval
ancestor. More frequently, it is the nature-worshipper’s
principle which has prevailed, giving to one of the great
nature-deities the precedence of the rest. Here, by no recondite
speculation, but by the plain teaching of nature,
the choice has for the most part lain between two mighty
visible divinities, the all-animating Sun and the all-encompassing
Heaven. In the study of such schemes, we are on
intellectual terra firma. There is among the religions of
the lower races another notable group of systems, seemingly
// File: 343.png
.pn +1
in close connexion with the first. These display to us a
heavenly pantheon arranged on the model of an earthly
political constitution, where the commonalty are crowds of
human souls and other tribes of world-pervading spirits,
the aristocracy are great polytheistic gods, and the King is
the supreme Deity. To this comparatively intelligible side
of the subject, a more perplexed and obscure side stands
contrasted. Among thoughtful men whose theory of the
soul animating the body has already led them to suppose
a divine spirit animating the huge mass of earth or sky,
this idea needs but a last expansion to become a doctrine
of the universe as animated by one greatest, all-pervading
divinity, the World-Spirit. Moreover, where speculative
philosophy grapples with the vast fundamental
world-problem, the solution is attained by ascending from
the Many to the One, by striving to discern through and
beyond the Universe a First Cause. Let the basis of such
reasoning be laid in theological ground, then the First
Cause is realized as the Supreme Deity. In such ways,
the result of carrying to their utmost limits the animistic
conceptions which among low races and high pervade
the philosophy of religion, is to reach an idea of as it were
a soul of the world, a shaper, animator, ruler of the universe.
Entering these regions of transcendental theology,
we are not to wonder that the comparative distinctness
belonging to conceptions of lower spiritual beings here
fades away. Human souls, subordinate nature-spirits, and
huge polytheistic nature-gods, carry with the defined special
functions they perform some defined character and figure,
but beyond such limits form and function blend into the
infinite and universal in the thought of supreme divinity.
To realize this widest idea, two especial ways are open.
The first way is to fuse the attributes of the great polytheistic
powers into more or less of common personality,
thus conceiving that, after all, it is the same Highest
Being who holds up the heavens, shines in the sun, smites
his foes in the thunder, stands first in the human pedigree as
// File: 344.png
.pn +1
the divine ancestor. The second way is to remove the limit
of theologic speculation into the region of the indefinite
and the inane. An unshaped divine entity looming vast,
shadowy, and calm beyond and over the material world, too
benevolent or too exalted to need human worship, too huge,
too remote, too indifferent, too supine, too merely existent,
to concern himself with the petty race of men,—this is a
mystic form of formlessness in which religion has not
seldom pictured the Supreme.

Thus, then, it appears that the theology of the lower races
already reaches its climax in conceptions of a highest of the
gods, and that these conceptions in the savage and barbaric
world are no copies stamped from one common type, but
outlines widely varying among mankind. The degeneration-theory,
in some instances no doubt with justice, may
claim such beliefs as mutilated and perverted remnants of
higher religions. Yet for the most part, the development-theory
is competent to account for them without seeking
their origin in grades of culture higher than those in which
they are found existing. Looked upon as products of
natural religion, such doctrines of divine supremacy seem
in no way to transcend the powers of the low-cultured mind
to reason out, nor of the low-cultured imagination to deck
with mythic fancy. There have existed in times past,
and do still exist, savage or barbaric peoples who hold
such views of a highest god as they may have attained to
of themselves, without the aid of more cultured nations.
Among these races, Animism has its distinct and consistent
outcome, and Polytheism its distinct and consistent completion,
in the doctrine of a Supreme Deity.

The native religions of South America and the West
Indies display a well-marked series of types. The primacy
of the Sun was long ago well stated by the Moluches when
a Jesuit missionary preached to them, and they replied,
‘Till this hour, we never knew nor acknowledged anything
greater or better than the Sun.’[#] So when a later missionary
// File: 345.png
.pn +1
argued with the chief of the Tobas, ‘My god is
good and punishes wicked people,’ the chief replied, ‘My
God (the Sun) is good likewise; but he punishes nobody,
satisfied to do good to all.’[#] In various manifestations,
moreover, there reigns among barbarians a supreme being
whose characteristics are those of the Heaven-god. It
is thus with the Tamoi of the Guaranis, ‘that beneficent
deity worshipped in his blended character of ancestor of
mankind and ancient of heaven, lord of the celestial
paradise.’[#] It is so with the highest deity of the Araucanians,
Pillan the Thunder or the Thunderer, called also
Huenu-Pillan or Heaven-Thunder, and Vuta-gen or Great
Being. ‘The universal government of Pillan,’ says
Molina, ‘is a prototype of the Araucanian polity. He is
the great Toqui (Governor) of the invisible world, and as
such has his Apo-Ulmenes, and his Ulmenes, to whom he
entrusts the administration of affairs of less importance.
These ideas are certainly very rude, but it must be acknowledged
that the Araucanians are not the only people who
have regulated the things of heaven by those of the earth.’[#]
A different but not less characteristic type of the Supreme
Deity is placed on record among the Caribs, a beneficent
power dwelling in the skies, reposing in his own happiness,
careless of mankind, and by them not honoured nor
adored.[#]

The theological history of Peru, in ages before the
Spanish conquest, has lately had new light thrown on it by
the researches of Mr. Markham. Here the student comes
into view of a rivalry full of interest in the history of
barbaric religion, the rivalry between the Creator and
the divine Sun. In the religion of the Incas, precedence
was given to Uiracocha, called Pachacamac, ‘Creator of
the World.’ The Sun (with whom was coupled his sister-wife
// File: 346.png
.pn +1
the Moon) was the divine ancestor, the dawn or origin,
the totem or lar, of the Inca family. The three great
deities were the Creator, Sun, and Thunder; their images
were brought out together at great festivals into the square
of Cuzco, llamas were sacrificed to all three, and they could
be addressed in prayer together, ‘O Creator, and Sun, and
Thunder, be for ever young, multiply the people, and let
them always be at peace.’ Yet the Thunder and Lightning
was held to come by the command of the Creator, and
the following prayer shows clearly that even ‘our father the
Sun’ was but his creature:—

.pm letter-start
‘Uiracocha! Thou who gavest being to the Sun, and afterwards said
let there be day and night. Raise it and cause it to shine, and preserve
that which thou hast created, that it may give light to men. Grant this,
Uiracocha!

‘Sun! Thou who art in peace and safety, shine upon us, keep us from
sickness, and keep us in health and safety.’
.pm letter-end

Among the transitions of religion, however, it is not strange
that a subordinate God, by virtue of his nearer intercourse
and power, should usurp the place of the supreme deity.
Among the various traces of this taking place under the
Incas, are traditions of the great temple at Cuzco called
‘The Golden Place,’ where Manco Ccapac originally set up
a flat oval golden plate to signify the Creator; Mayta Ccapac,
it is said, renewed the Creator’s symbol, but Huascar Inca
took it down, and set up in its stead in the place of honour
a round golden plate like the sun with rays. The famous
temple itself, Ccuricancha the ‘Golden Place,’ was known
to the Spaniards as the Temple of the Sun; no wonder that
the idea has come to be so generally accepted, that the Sun
was the chief god of Peru. There is even on record a
memorable protest made by one Inca, who dared to deny
that the Sun could be the maker of all things, comparing
him to a tethered beast that must make ever the same daily
round, and to an arrow that must go whither it is sent, not
whither it will. But what availed philosophic protest, even
from the head of church and state himself, against a state
// File: 347.png
.pn +1
church of which the world has seldom seen the equal for
stiff and solid organization? The Sun reigned in Peru till
Pizarro overthrew him, and his splendid golden likeness
came down from the temple wall to be the booty of a Castilian
soldier, who lost it in one night at play.[#]

Among rude tribes of the North American continent,
evidence of the primacy of the divine Sun is not unknown.
Father Hennepin’s account of the Sioux worshipping the
Sun as the Creator is explicit enough, and agrees with the
argument of the modern Shawnees, that the Sun animates
everything, and therefore must be the Master of Life or
Great Spirit.[#] It is the widespread belief in this Great
Spirit which has long and deservedly drawn the attention
of European thinkers to the native religions of the North
American tribes. The name of the Great Spirit originates
with the equivalent term Kitchi Manitu in the language
of the Algonquin Indians. Before the European intercourse
in the <abbr=seventeenth>17th</abbr> century, these tribes had indeed no deity so
called, but as has been already pointed out, the term came
first into use by the application of the native word manitu,
meaning demon or deity, to the Christian God. During
the following centuries, the name of the Great Spirit, with
the ideas belonging to the name, travelled far and wide
over the continent. It became the ordinary expression
of Europeans in their descriptions of Indian religion, and
in discourse carried on in English words between Europeans
and Indians, and was more or less naturalized among the
Indians themselves. On their religions it had on the one
// File: 348.png
.pn +1
hand a transforming influence, while on the other hand, as
is usual in the combination of religions, the new divinity
incorporated into himself the characteristics of native
divinities, so that native ideas remained in part represented
in him. A divine being whose characteristics are
often so unlike what European intercourse would have
suggested, could be hardly altogether of foreign origin.[#]
Again, among the Greenlanders, Torngarsuk or Great
Spirit (his name is an augmentative of ‘torngak’—‘demon’)
was known to the early Danish missionary
Egede as the oracular deity of the angekoks, to whose
under-world souls hope to descend at death. He so far
held the place of supreme deity in the native mind, that,
as Cranz the missionary relates somewhat afterwards,
many Greenlanders hearing of God and his almighty
power were apt to fall on the idea that it was their Torngarsuk
who was meant; but he was eventually identified
with the Devil.[#] In like manner, Algonquin Indians, early
in the <abbr=seventeenth>17th</abbr> century, hearing of the white man’s Deity,
identified him with one known to their own native belief,
Atahocan the Creator. When Le Jeune the missionary talked
to them of an almighty creator of heaven and earth, they
began to say to one another, ‘Atahocan, Atahocan, it is
Atahocan!’ The traditional idea of such a being seems indeed
to have lain in utter mythic vagueness in their thoughts,
for they had made his name into a verb, ‘Nitatahocan,’
meaning, ‘I tell a fable, an old fanciful story.’[#]

In late times, Schoolcraft represents the Great Spirit as a
Soul of the Universe, inhabiting and animating all things,
recognized in rocks and trees, in cataracts and clouds, in
thunder and lightning, in tempest and zephyr, becoming
incarnate in birds and beasts as titular deities, existing in
the world under every possible form, animate and
// File: 349.png
.pn +1
inanimate.[#] Whether the Red Indian mind even in modern
times really entertained this extreme pantheistic scheme,
we may well doubt. In early times of American discovery,
the records show a quite different and more usual conception
of a supreme deity. Among the more noteworthy of
these older documents are the following. Jacques Cartier,
in his second Canadian voyage (1535), speaks of the people
having no valid belief in God, for they believe in one whom
they call Cudouagni, and say that he often speaks with
them, and tells them what the weather will be; they say
that when he is angry with them he casts earth in their
eyes. Thevet’s statement somewhat later is as follows:
‘As to their religion, they have no worship or prayer to
God, except that they contemplate the new moon, called in
their language Osannaha, saying that Andouagni calls it
thus, sending it little by little to advance or retard the
waters. For the rest, they fully believe that there is a
Creator, greater than the Sun, the Moon, and the Stars,
and who holds all in his power. He it is whom they call
Andouagni, without however having any form or method of
prayer to him.’[#] In Virginia about 1586, we learn from
Heriot that the natives believed in many gods, which they
call ‘mantoac,’ but of different sorts and degrees, also
that there is one chief god who first made other principal
gods, and afterwards the sun, moon, and stars as petty
gods. In New England, in 1622, Winslow says that they
believe, as do the Virginians, in many divine powers, yet of
one above all the rest; the Massachusetts call their great
god Kiehtan, who made all the other gods; he dwells far
westerly above the heavens, whither all good men go when
they die; ‘They never saw <i>Kiehtan</i>, but they hold it a
great charge and dutie, that one age teach another; and to
him they make feasts, and cry and sing for plentie and
victorie, or anything is good.’ Another famous native
// File: 350.png
.pn +1
American name for the supreme deity is Oki. Captain
John Smith, the hero of the colonization of Virginia in 1607,
he who was befriended by Pocahontas, ‘La Belle Sauvage,’
thus describes the religion of the country, and especially of
her tribe, the Powhatans: ‘There is yet in Virginia no
place discovered to be so Savage in which they haue not a
Religion, Deer, and Bow and Arrowes. All things that
are able to doe them hurt beyond their prevention, they
adore with their kinde of divine worship; as the fire, water,
lightning, thunder, our Ordnance peeces, horses, &c. But
their chiefe god they worship is the Devill. Him they call
Okee, and serue him more of feare than loue. They say
they haue conference with him, and fashion themselves as
neare to his shape as they can imagine. In their Temples
they haue his image evill favouredly carved, and then
painted and adorned with chaines of copper, and beads, and
covered with a skin in such manner as the deformities may
well suit with such a God.’[#] This quaint account deserves
to be quoted at length as an example of the judgment which
a half-educated and whole-prejudiced European is apt to
pass on savage deities, which from his point of view seem
of simply diabolic nature. It is known from other sources
that Oki, a word belonging not to the Powhatan but to the
Huron language, was in fact a general name for spirit or deity.
We may judge the real belief of these Indians better from
Father Brebeuf’s description of the Heaven God, cited here in
a former chapter: they imagine in the heavens an Oki, that
is, a Demon or power ruling the seasons of the year, and
controlling the winds and waves, a being whose anger they
fear, and whom they call on in making solemn treaties.[#]
// File: 351.png
.pn +1
About a century later, Father Lafitau wrote passages which
illustrate well the transformation of native animistic conceptions
under missionary influence into analogues of
Christian theology. Such general terms for spiritual beings
as ‘oki’ or ‘manitu’ had become to him individual names
of one supreme being. ‘This great Spirit, known among
the Caribs under the name of <i>Chemiin</i>, under that of
<i>Manitou</i> among the Algonquin nations, and under that of
<i>Okki</i> among those who speak the Huron tongue ...’ &c.
All American tribes, he says, use expressions which can only
denote God: ‘they call him the great Spirit, sometimes
the Master and Author of Life ...’ &c.[#] The longer rude
tribes of America have been in contact with European
belief, the less confidently can we ascribe to purely native
sources the theologic scheme their religions have settled
into. Yet the Creeks towards the end of the <abbr=eighteenth>18th</abbr> century
preserved some elements of native faith. They believed
in the Great Spirit, the Master of Breath (a being whom
Bartram represents as a soul and governor of the universe):
to him they would address their frequent prayers
and ejaculations, at the same time paying a kind of homage
to the sun, moon, and stars, as the mediators or ministers
of the Great Spirit, in dispensing his attributes for their
comfort and well-being in this life.[#] In our own day, among
the wild Comanches of the prairies, the Great Spirit, their
creator and supreme deity, is above Sun and Moon and
Earth; towards him is sent the first puff of tobacco-smoke
before the Sun receives the second, and to him is offered
the first morsel of the feast.[#]

Turning from the simple faiths of savage tribes of North
America to the complex religion of the half-civilized
Mexican nation, we find what we might naturally expect,
a cumbrous polytheism complicated by mixture of several
national pantheons, and beside and beyond this, certain
// File: 352.png
.pn +1
appearances of a doctrine of divine supremacy. But these
doctrines seem to have been spoken of more definitely than
the evidence warrants. A remarkable native development
of Mexican theism must be admitted, in so far as we may
receive the native historian Ixtlilxochitl’s account of the
worship paid by Nezahualcoyotl, the poet king of Tezcuco,
to the invisible supreme Tloque Nahuaque, he who has all
in him, the cause of causes, in whose star-roofed pyramid
stood no idol, and who there received no bloody sacrifice,
but only flowers and incense. Yet it would have been
more satisfactory were the stories told by this Aztec
panegyrist of his royal ancestor confirmed by other records.
Traces of divine supremacy in Mexican religion are
especially associated with Tezcatlipoca, ‘Shining Mirror,’
a deity who seems in his original nature the Sun-God, and
thence by expansion to have become the soul of the world,
creator of heaven and earth, lord of all things, Supreme
Deity. Such conceptions may in more or less measure
have arisen in native thought, but it should be pointed out
that the remarkable Aztec religious formulas collected by
Sahagun, in which the deity Tezcatlipoca is so prominent
a figure, show traces of Christian admixture in their material,
as well as of Christian influence in their style. For
instance, all students of Mexican antiquities know the
belief in Mictlan, the Hades of the dead. But when one
of these Aztec prayer-formulas (concerning auricular confession,
the washing away of sins, and a new birth) makes
mention of sinners being plunged into a lake of intolerable
misery and torment, the introduction of an idea so obviously
European condemns the composition as not purely native.
The question of the actual developments of ideas verging
on pantheism or theism, among the priests and philosophers
of native Mexico, is one to be left for further criticism.[#]

In the islands of the Pacific, the idea of Supreme Deity
// File: 353.png
.pn +1
is especially manifested in that great mythologic divinity of
the Polynesian race, whom the New Zealanders call Tangaroa,
the Hawaiians Kanaroa, the Tongans and Samoans
Tangaloa, the Georgian and Society islanders Taaroa.
Students of the science of religion who hold polytheism to
be but the mis-development of a primal idea of divine
unity, which in spite of corruption continues to pervade it,
might well choose this South Sea Island divinity as their
aptest illustration from the savage world. Taaroa, says
Moerenhout, is their supreme or rather only god; for all
the others, as in other known polytheisms, seem scarcely
more than sensible figures and images of the infinite attributes
united in his divine person. The following is given
as a native poetic definition of the Creator. ‘He was;
Taaroa was his name; he abode in the void. No earth, no
sky, no men. Taaroa calls, but nought answers; and alone
existing, he became the universe. The props are Taaroa;
the rocks are Taaroa; the sands are Taaroa; it is thus he
himself is named.’ According to Ellis, Taaroa is described
in the Leeward Islands as the eternal parentless uncreate
Creator, dwelling alone in the highest heaven, whose bodily
form mortals cannot see, who after intervals of innumerable
seasons casts off his body or shell and becomes renewed.
It was he who created Hina his daughter, and with her aid
formed the sky and earth and sea. He founded the world
on a solid rock, which with all the creation he sustains by
his invisible power. Then he created the ranks of lesser
deities such as reign over sea and land and air, and govern
peace and war, and preside over physic and husbandry, and
canoe-building, and roofing, and theft. The version from
the Windward Islands is that Taaroa’s wife was the rock,
the foundation of all things, and she gave birth to earth and
sea. Now, fortunately for our understanding of this myth,
the name of Taaroa’s wife, with whom he begat the lesser
deities, was taken down in Tahiti in Captain Cook’s time.
She was a rock called Papa, and her name plainly suggests
her identity with Papa the Earth, the wife of Rangi the
// File: 354.png
.pn +1
Heaven in the New Zealand myth of Heaven and Earth,
the great first parents. If this inference be just, then it
seems that Taaroa the Creator is no personification of a
primæval theistic idea, but simply the divine personal
Heaven transformed under European influence into the
supreme Heaven-god. Thus, when Turner gives the Samoan
myths of Tangaloa in heaven presiding over the production
of the earth from beneath the waters, or throwing down from
the sky rocks which are now islands, the classic name by
which he calls him is that which rightly describes his nature
and mythic origin—Tangaloa, the Polynesian Jupiter. Yet
in island district after district, we find the name of the
mighty heavenly creator given to other and lesser mythic
beings. In Tahiti, the manes-worshipper’s idea is applied
not only to lesser deities, but to Taaroa the Creator himself,
whom some maintained to be but a man deified after death.
In the New Zealand mythology, Tangaroa figures on the
one hand as Sea-god and father of fish and reptiles, on the
other as the mischievous eaves-dropping god who reveals
secrets. In Tonga, Tangaloa was god of artificers and arts,
and his priests were carpenters; it was he who went forth
to fish, and dragged up the Tonga islands from the bottom
of the sea. Here, then, he corresponds with Maui, and
indeed Tangaroa and Maui are found blending in Polynesia
even to full identification. It is neither easy nor safe to
fix to definite origin the Protean shapes of South Sea
mythology, but on the whole the native myths are apt to
embody cosmic ideas, and as the idea of the Sun preponderates
in Maui, so the idea of the Heaven in Taaroa.[#] In the
Fiji Islands, whose native mythology is on the whole distinct
from that of Polynesia proper, a strange weird figure takes
the supreme place among the gods. His name is Ndengei,
// File: 355.png
.pn +1
the serpent is his shrine, some traditions represent him with
a serpent’s head and body and the rest of him stone. He
passes a monotonous existence in his gloomy cavern, feeling
no emotion nor sensation, nor any appetite but hunger; he
takes no interest in any one but Uto, his attendant, and
gives no sign of life beyond eating, answering his priest,
and changing his position from one side to the other. No
wonder Ndengei is less worshipped than most of the inferior
gods. The natives have even made a comic song about
him, where he talks with his attendant, Uto, who has been
to attend the feast at Rakiraki, where Ndengei has especially
his temple and worship.

.pm letter-start
<i>Ndengei.</i> ‘Have you been to the sharing of food to-day?’

<i>Uto.</i> ‘Yes: and turtles formed a part; but only the under-shell
was shared to us two.’

<i>Ndengei.</i> ‘Indeed, Uto! This is very bad. How is it? We made them
men, placed them on the earth, gave them food, and yet
they share to us only the under-shell. Uto, how is
this?’[#]
.pm letter-end

The native religion of Africa, a land pervaded by the doctrines
of divine hierarchy and divine supremacy, affords apt
evidence for the problem before us. The capacity of the
manes-worshipper’s scheme to extend in this direction may
be judged from the religious speculations of the Zulus,
where may be traced the merging of the First Man, the
Old-Old-One, Unkulunkulu, into the ideal of the Creator,
Thunderer, and Heaven-god.[#] If we examine a collection
of documents illustrating the doctrines of the West African
races lying between the Hottentots on the south and the
Berbers on the north, we may fairly judge their conceptions,
evidently influenced as these have been by Christian
intercourse, to be nevertheless based on native ideas
of the personal Heaven.[#] Whether they think of their
// File: 356.png
.pn +1
supreme deity as actively pervading and governing his
universe, or as acting through his divine subordinates, or as
retiring from his creation and leaving the lesser spirits to
work their will, he is always to their minds the celestial
ruler, the Heaven-god. Examples may be cited, each in its
way full of instruction. In the mind of the Gold-coast
negro, tendencies towards theistic religion seem to have been
mainly developed through the idea of Nyongmo, the personal
Heaven, or its animating personal deity. Heaven, wide-arching,
rain-giving, light-giving, who has been and is and
shall be, is to him the Supreme Deity. The sky is Nyongmo’s
creature, the clouds are his veil, the stars his face-ornaments.
Creator of all things, and of their animating
powers whose chief and elder he is, he sits in majestic rest
surrounded by his children, the wongs, the spirits of the
air who serve him and represent him on earth. Though
men’s worship is for the most part paid to these, reverence
is also given to Nyongmo, the Eldest, the Highest. Every
day, said a fetish-man, we see how the grass and corn and
trees spring forth by the rain and sunshine that Nyongmo
sends, how should he not be the Creator? Again, the
mighty Heaven-god, far removed from man and seldom
roused to interfere in earthly interests, is the type on which
the Guinea negroes may have modelled their thoughts of a
Highest Deity who has abandoned the control of his world
to lesser and evil spirits.[#] The religion of another district
seems to show clearly the train of thought by which such
ideas may be worked out. Among the Kimbunda race of
Congo, Suku-Vakange is the highest being. He takes little
interest in mankind, leaving the real government of the
world to the good and evil kilulu or spirits, into whose ranks
the souls of men pass at death. Now in that there are more
bad spirits who torment, than good who favour living men,
human misery would be unbearable, were it not that from
// File: 357.png
.pn +1
time to time Suku-Vakange, enraged at the wickedness of
the evil spirits, terrifies them with thunder, and punishes
the more obstinate with his thunderbolts. Then he returns
to rest, and lets the kilulu rule again.[#] Who, we may ask,
is this divinity, calm and indifferent save when his wrath
bursts forth in storm, but the Heaven himself? The relation
of the Supreme Deity to the lesser gods of polytheism is
graphically put in the following passage, where an American
missionary among the Yorubas describes the relation of
Olorung, the Lord of Heaven, to his lesser deities (orisa),
among whom the chief are the androgynous Obatala, representing
the reproductive power of nature, and Shango the
Thunder-god. ‘The doctrine of idolatry prevalent in
Yoruba appears to be derived by analogy from the form and
customs of the civil government. There is but one king in
the nation, and one God over the universe. Petitioners to
the king approach him through the intervention of his
servants, courtiers, and nobles: and the petitioner conciliates
the courtier whom he employs by good words and
presents. In like manner no man can directly approach
God; but the Almighty himself, they say, has appointed
various kinds of orisas, who are mediators and intercessors
between himself and mankind. No sacrifices are made to
God, because he needs nothing; but the orisas, being much
like men, are pleased with offerings of sheep, pigeons, and
other things. They conciliate the orisa or mediator that he
may bless them, not in his own power, but in the power
of God.’[#]

Rooted as they are in the depths of nature-worship, the
doctrines of the supreme Sun and Heaven both come to the
surface again in the native religions of Asia. The divine
Sun holds his primacy distinctly enough among the rude
indigenous tribes of India. Although one sect of the
Khonds of Orissa especially direct their worship to Tari
// File: 358.png
.pn +1
Pennu the Earth-goddess, yet even they agree theoretically
with the sect who worship Bura Pennu or Bella Pennu,
Light-god or Sun-god, in giving to him supremacy above
the manes-gods and nature-gods, and all spiritual powers.[#]
Among the Kol tribes of Bengal, the acknowledged primate
of all classes of divinities is the beneficent supreme deity,
Sing-bonga, Sun-god. Among some Munda tribes his
authority is so real that they will appeal to him for help
where recourse to minor deities has failed; while among the
Santals his cultus has so dwindled away that he receives less
practical worship than his malevolent inferiors, and is scarce
honoured with more than nominal dignity and an occasional
feast.[#] These are rude tribes who, so far as we know, have
never been other than rude tribes. The Japanese are a
comparatively civilized nation, one of those so instructive to
the student of culture from the stubborn conservatism with
which they have consecrated by traditional reverence, and
kept up by state authority, the religion of their former
barbarism. This is the Kami-religion, Spirit-religion, the
ancient but mixed faith of divine spirits of ancestors, nature-spirits,
and polytheistic gods, which still holds official place
by the side of the imported Buddhism and Confucianism.
The Sun-goddess, Amaterasu, ‘Heaven-shiner,’ though but
sprung from the left eye of the parent Izanagi, came to be
honoured above all lesser kamis or gods, while by a fiction
of ancestor-worship the solar race, as in Peru, became the
royal family, her spirit descending to animate the Mikado.
Kaempfer, in his ‘History of Japan,’ written early in the
<abbr=eighteenth>18th</abbr> century, showed how absolutely the divine Tensio Dai
Sin, represented below on the imperial throne, was looked
upon as ruler of the minor powers; he mentions the Japanese
tenth month, called the ‘godless month,’ because then the
lesser gods are considered to be away from their temples, gone
to pay their annual homage to the Dairi. He describes, as it
// File: 359.png
.pn +1
was in his time, the great Japanese place of pilgrimage, Yse.
There was to be seen the small cavern in a hill near the sea,
where the divine Sun once hid herself, depriving the world
of light, and thus showing herself to be supreme above
all gods. Within the small ancient temple hard by, of
which an account and a picture are given from a Japanese
book, there were to be seen round the walls the usual
pieces of cut white paper, and in the midst nothing but a
polished metal mirror.[#]

Over the vast range of the Tatar races, it is the type of
the supreme Heaven that comes prominently into view.
Nature-worshippers in the extreme sense, these rude tribes
conceived their ghosts and elves and demons and great
powers of the earth and air to be, like men themselves,
within the domain of the divine Heaven, almighty and all-encompassing.
To trace the Samoyed’s thought of Num
the personal Sky passing into vague conceptions of pervading
deity; to see with the Tunguz how Boa the Heaven-god,
unseen but all-knowing, kindly but indifferent, has
divided the business of his world among such lesser powers
as sun and moon, earth and fire; to discern the meaning of
the Mongrel Tengri, shading from Heaven into Heaven-god,
and thence into god or spirit in general; to follow the
records of Heaven-worship among the ancient Turks and
Hiong-nu; to compare the supremacy among the Lapps of
Tiermes, the Thunderer, with the supremacy among the
Finns of Jumala and Ukko, the Heaven-god and heavenly
Grandfather—such evidence seems good ground for Castrén’s
argument, that the doctrine of the divine Sky underlay the
first Turanian conceptions, not merely of a Heaven-god, but
of a highest deity who in after ages of Christian conversion
blended into the Christian God.[#] Here, again, we may have
// File: 360.png
.pn +1
the advantage of studying among a cultured race the survival
of religion from ruder ancient times, kept up by official
ordinance. The state religion of China is in its dominant
doctrine the worship of Tien, Heaven, identified with Shang-ti,
the Emperor-above, next to whom stands Tu, Earth;
while below them are worshipped great nature-spirits and
ancestors. It is possible that this faith, as Professor Max
Müller argues, may be ethnologically and even linguistically
part and parcel of the general Heaven-worship of the
Turanian tribes of Siberia. At any rate, it is identical with
it in its primary idea, the adoration of the supreme Heaven.
Dr. Legge charges Confucius with an inclination to substitute
in his religious teaching the name of Tien, Heaven,
for that known to more ancient religion and used in more
ancient books, Shang-ti, the personal ruling Deity. But it
seems rather that the sage was in fact upholding the traditions
of the ancient faith, thus acting according to the
character on which he prided himself, that of a transmitter
and not a maker, a preserver of old knowledge, not a new
revealer. It is in accordance with the usual course of
theologic development, for the divine Heaven to reign in
rude mythologic religion over the lesser spirits of the world
before the childlike poetic thought passes into the statesman’s
conception of a Celestial Emperor. As Plath well
remarks, ‘It belongs to the Chinese system that all nature
is animated by spirits, and that all these follow one order.
As the Chinese cannot think of a Chinese Empire with an
Emperor only, and without the host of vassal-princes and
officials, so he cannot think of the Upper Emperor without
the host of spirits.’ Developed in a different line, the idea
of a supreme Heaven comes to pervade Chinese philosophy
and ethics as a general expression of fate, ordinance, duty.
‘Heaven’s order is nature’—‘The wise man readily awaits
Heaven’s command’—‘Man must first do his own part;
when he has done all, then he can wait for Heaven to
complete it’—‘All state officers are Heaven’s workmen,
and represent him’—‘How does Heaven speak? The four
// File: 361.png
.pn +1
seasons have their course, the hundred things arise, what
speaks he?’—‘No, Heaven speaks not; by the course of
events he makes himself understood, no more.’[#]

These stray scraps from old Chinese literature are intelligible
to European ears, for our Aryan race has indeed
worked out religious ideas from the like source and almost
in the like directions. The Samoyed or Tunguz Heaven-god
had his analogue in Dyu, Heaven, of the Vedic hymns.
Once meaning the sky, and the sky personified, this Zeus
came to mean far more than mere heaven in the minds of
Greek poets and philosophers, when it rose toward ‘that
conception which in sublimity, brightness, and infinity
transcended all others as much as the bright blue sky
transcended all other things visible upon earth.’ At the
lower level of mythic religion, the ideal process of shaping
the divine world into a monarchic constitution was worked
out by the ancient Greeks, on the same simple plan as among
such barbarians as the Kols of Chota-Nagpur or the Gallas
of Abyssinia; Zeus is King over Olympian gods, and below
these again are marshalled the crowded ranks of demigods,
heroes, demons, nymphs, ghosts. At the higher level of
theologic speculation, exalted thoughts of universal cause
and being, of physical and moral law, took personality under
the name of Zeus. It is in direct derivation along this
historic line, that the classical heaven-cultus still asserts
itself in song and pageant among us, in that quaintest of
quaint survivals, the factitious religion of the Italian Opera,
where such worship as artistic ends require is still addressed
to the divine Cielo. Even in our daily talk, colloquial expressions
call up before the mind of the ethnographer outlines
of remotest religious history. Heaven grants, forbids,
blesses still in phrase, as heretofore in fact.

Vast and difficult as is the research into the full scope
and history of the doctrine of supremacy among the higher
// File: 362.png
.pn +1
nations, it may be at least seen that helpful clues exist to
lead the explorer. The doctrine of mighty nature-spirits,
inhabiting and controlling sky and earth and sea, seems to
expand in Asia into such ideas as that of Mahâtman the
Great Spirit, Paramâtman the Highest Spirit, taking personality
as Brahma the all-pervading universal soul[#]—in
Europe into philosophic conceptions of which a grand type
stands out in Kepler’s words, that the universe is a harmonious
whole, whose soul is God. There is a saying of
Comte’s that throws strong light upon this track of speculative
theology: he declares that the conception among the
ancients of the Soul of the Universe, the notion that the
earth is a vast living animal, and in our own time, the
obscure pantheism which is so rife among German metaphysicians,
are only fetishism generalized and made systematic.[#]
Polytheism, in its inextricable confusion of the
persons and functions of the great divinities, and in its
assignment of the sovereignty of the world to a supreme
being who combines in himself the attributes of several such
minor deities, tends toward the doctrine of fundamental
unity. Max Müller, in a lecture on the Veda, has given
the name of kathenotheism to the doctrine of divine unity
in diversity which comes into view in these instructive
lines:—

.pm verse-start
<lang=sa>‘Indram Mitram Varunam Agnim âhur atho</lang>
      <lang=sa>divyah sa suparno Garutmân:</lang>
<lang=sa>Ekam sad viprâ bahudha vadanti Agnim</lang>
      <lang=sa>Yamam Mâtariçvânam âhuh.’</lang>
.pm verse-end

‘They call him Indra, Mitra, Varuna, Agni; then he is the beautiful-winged
heavenly Garutman: That which is One the wise call it in divers
manners; they call it Agni, Yama, Mâtariçvan.’[#]
// File: 363.png
.pn +1

The figure of the supreme deity, be he Heaven-god, Sun-god,
Great Spirit, beginning already in uncultured thought
to take the form and function of a divine ruler of the
world, represents a conception which it becomes the age-long
work of systematic theology to develop and to define.
Thus in Greece arises Zeus the highest, greatest, best, ‘who
was and is and shall be,’ ‘beginning and chief of all things,’
‘who rules over all mortals and immortals,’ ‘Zeus the god
of gods.’[#] Such is Ahura Mazda in the Persian faith,
among whose seventy-two names of might are these: Creator,
Protector, Nourisher, Holiest Heavenly One, Healing
Priest, Most Pure, Most Majestic, Most Knowing, Most
Ruling at Will.[#] There may be truth in the assertion that
the esoteric religion of ancient Egypt centred in a doctrine
of divine unity, manifested through the heterogeneous crowd
of popular deities.[#] It may be a hopeless task to disentangle
the confused personalities of Baal, Bel, and Moloch, and no
antiquary may ever fully solve the enigma how far the divine
name of El carried in its wide range among the Jewish and
other Semitic nations a doctrine of divine supremacy.[#] The
great Syro-Phœnician kingdoms and religions have long
since passed away into darkness, leaving but antiquarian
relics to vouch for their former might. Far other has been the
history of their Jewish kindred, still standing fast to their
ancient nationality, still upholding to this day their patriarchal
religion, in the midst of nations who inherit from
the faith of Israel the belief in one God, highest, almighty,
who in the beginning made the heavens and the earth, whose
throne is established of old, who is from everlasting to
everlasting.

Before now bringing these researches to a close, it will be
well to state compactly the reasons for treating the animism
of the modern savage world as more or less representing the
// File: 364.png
.pn +1
animism of remotely ancient races of mankind. Savage
animism, founded on a doctrine of souls carried to an extent
far beyond its limits in the cultivated world, and thence
expanding to a yet wider doctrine of spiritual beings animating
and controlling the universe in all its parts, becomes
a theory of personal causes developed into a general philosophy
of man and nature. As such, it may be reasonably
accounted for as the direct product of natural religion,
using this term according to the sense of its definition by
Bishop Wilkins: ‘I call that Natural Religion, which men
might know, and should be obliged unto, by the meer principles
of Reason, improved by Consideration and Experience,
without the help of Revelation.’[#] It will scarcely be argued
by theologians familiar with the religions of savage tribes,
that they are direct or nearly direct products of revelation,
for the theology of our time would abolish or modify their
details till scarce one was left intact. The main issue of
the problem is this, whether savage animism is a primary
formation belonging to the lower culture, or whether it consists,
mostly or entirely, of beliefs originating in some
higher culture, and conveyed by adoption or degradation
into the lower. The evidence for the first alternative,
though not amounting to complete demonstration, seems
reasonably strong, and not met by contrary evidence approaching
it in force. The animism of the lower tribes,
self-contained and self-supporting, maintained in close contact
with that direct evidence of the senses on which it
appears to be originally based, is a system which might
quite reasonably exist among mankind, had they never anywhere
// File: 365.png
.pn +1
risen above the savage condition. Now it does not
seem that the animism of the higher nations stands in a
connexion so direct and complete with their mental state.
It is by no means so closely limited to doctrines evidenced
by simple contemplation of nature. The doctrines of the
lower animism appear in the higher often more and more
modified, to bring them into accordance with an advancing
intellectual condition, to adapt them at once to the limits of
stricter science and the needs of higher faith; and in the
higher animism these doctrines are retained side by side
with other and special beliefs, of which the religions of the
lower world show scarce a germ. In tracing the course of
animistic thought from stage to stage of history, instruction
is to be gained alike from the immensity of change and
from the intensity of permanence. Savage animism, both
by what it has and by what it wants, seems to represent the
earlier system in which began the age-long course of the
education of the world. Especially is it to be noticed that
various beliefs and practices, which in the lower animism
stand firm upon their grounds as if they grew there, in the
higher animism belong rather to peasants than philosophers,
exist rather as ancestral relics than as products belonging
to their age, are falling from full life into survival. Thus
it is that savage religion can frequently explain doctrines
and rites of civilized religion. The converse is far less often
the case. Now this is a state of things which appears to
carry a historical as well as a practical meaning. The
degradation-theory would expect savages to hold beliefs and
customs intelligible as broken-down relics of former higher
civilization. The development-theory would expect civilized
men to keep up beliefs and customs which have their reasonable
meaning in less cultured states of society. So far as
the study of survival enables us to judge between the two
theories, it is seen that what is intelligible religion in the
lower culture is often meaningless superstition in the higher,
and thus the development-theory has the upper hand.
Moreover, this evidence fits with the teaching of prehistoric
// File: 366.png
.pn +1
archæology. Savage life, carrying on into our own day the
life of the Stone Age, may be legitimately claimed as representing
remotely ancient conditions of mankind, intellectual
and moral as well as material. If so, a low but progressive
state of animistic religion occupies a like ground in savage
and in primitive culture.

Lastly, a few words of explanation may be offered as to
the topics which this survey has included and excluded. To
those who have been accustomed to find theological subjects
dealt with on a dogmatic, emotional, and ethical, rather
than an ethnographic scheme, the present investigation
may seem misleading, because one-sided. This one-sided
treatment, however, has been adopted with full consideration.
Thus, though the doctrines here examined bear not
only on the development but the actual truth of religious
systems, I have felt neither able nor willing to enter into
this great argument fully and satisfactorily, while experience
has shown that to dispose of such questions by an occasional
dictatorial phrase is one of the most serious of errors. The
scientific value of descriptions of savage and barbarous
religions, drawn up by travellers and especially by missionaries,
is often lowered by their controversial tone, and by
the affectation of infallibility with which their relation to
the absolutely true is settled. There is something pathetic
in the simplicity with which a narrow student will judge the
doctrines of a foreign religion by their antagonism or conformity
to his own orthodoxy, on points where utter difference
of opinion exists among the most learned and enlightened
scholars. The systematization of the lower religions,
the reduction of their multifarious details to the few and
simple ideas of primitive philosophy which form the common
groundwork of them all, appeared to me an urgently
needed contribution to the science of religion. This work
I have carried out to the utmost of my power, and I can now
only leave the result in the hands of other students, whose
province it is to deal with such evidence in wider schemes
of argument. Again, the intellectual rather than the emotional
// File: 367.png
.pn +1
side of religion has here been kept in view. Even in
the life of the rudest savage, religious belief is associated
with intense emotion, with awful reverence, with agonizing
terror, with rapt ecstasy when sense and thought utterly
transcend the common level of daily life. How much the
more in faiths where not only does the believer experience
such enthusiasm, but where his utmost feelings of love and
hope, of justice and mercy, of fortitude and tenderness and
self-sacrificing devotion, of unutterable misery and dazzling
happiness, twine and clasp round the fabric of religion.
Language, dropping at times from such words as soul and
spirit their mere philosophic meaning, can use them in full
conformity with this tendency of the religious mind, as
phrases to convey a mystic sense of transcendent emotion.
Yet of all this religion, the religion of vision and of passion,
little indeed has been said in these pages, and even that
little rather in incidental touches than with purpose. Those
to whom religion means above all things religious feeling,
may say of my argument that I have written soullessly of
the soul, and unspiritually of spiritual things. Be it so: I
accept the phrase not as needing an apology, but as expressing
a plan. Scientific progress is at times most
furthered by working along a distinct intellectual line,
without being tempted to diverge from the main object to
what lies beyond, in however intimate connexion. The
anatomist does well to discuss bodily structure independently
of the world of happiness and misery which depends
upon it. It would be thought a mere impertinence for a
strategist to preface a dissertation on the science of war,
by an enquiry how far it is lawful for a Christian man to
bear weapons and serve in the wars. My task has been
here not to discuss Religion in all its bearings, but to
portray in outline the great doctrine of Animism, as found
in what I conceive to be its earliest stages among the lower
races of mankind, and to show its transmission along the
lines of religious thought.

The almost entire exclusion of ethical questions from
// File: 368.png
.pn +1
this investigation has more than a mere reason of arrangement.
It is due to the very nature of the subject. To
some the statement may seem startling, yet the evidence
seems to justify it, that the relation of morality to religion
is one that only belongs in its rudiments, or not at all, to
rudimentary civilization. The comparison of savage and
civilized religions bring into view, by the side of a deep-lying
resemblance in their philosophy, a deep-lying contrast
in their practical action on human life. So far as savage
religion can stand as representing natural religion, the
popular idea that the moral government of the universe is
an essential tenet of natural religion simply falls to the
ground. Savage animism is almost devoid of that ethical
element which to the educated modern mind is the very
mainspring of practical religion. Not, as I have said, that
morality is absent from the life of the lower races. Without
a code of morals, the very existence of the rudest tribe
would be impossible; and indeed the moral standards of
even savage races are to no small extent well-defined and
praiseworthy. But these ethical laws stand on their own
ground of tradition and public opinion, comparatively independent
of the animistic belief and rites which exist
beside them. The lower animism is not immoral, it is
unmoral. For this plain reason, it has seemed desirable to
keep the discussion of animism, as far as might be, separate
from that of ethics. The general problem of the relation of
morality to religion is difficult, intricate, and requiring immense
array of evidence, and may be perhaps more profitably
discussed in connexion with the ethnography of morals.
To justify their present separation, it will be enough to
refer in general terms to the accounts of savage tribes
whose ideas have been little affected by civilized intercourse;
proper caution being used not to trust vague statements
about good and evil, but to ascertain whether these
are what philosophic moralists would call virtue and vice,
righteousness and wickedness, or whether they are mere
personal advantage and disadvantage. The essential connexion
// File: 369.png
.pn +1
of theology and morality is a fixed idea in many
minds. But it is one of the lessons of history that subjects
may maintain themselves independently for ages, till the
event of coalescence takes place. In the course of history,
religion has in various ways attached to itself matters small
and great outside its central scheme, such as prohibition of
special meats, observance of special days, regulation of marriage
as to kinship, division of society into castes, ordinance
of social law and civil government. Looking at religion
from a political point of view, as a practical influence on
human society, it is clear that among its greatest powers
have been its divine sanction of ethical laws, its theological
enforcement of morality, its teaching of moral government
of the universe, its supplanting the ‘continuance-doctrine’
of a future life by the ‘retribution-doctrine’ supplying
moral motive in the present. But such alliance belongs
almost or wholly to religions above the savage level, not to
the earlier and lower creeds. It will aid us to see how
much more the fruit of religion belongs to ethical influence
than to philosophical dogma, if we consider how the introduction
of the moral element separates the religions of the
world, united as they are throughout by one animistic
principle, into two great classes, those lower systems whose
best result is to supply a crude childlike natural philosophy,
and those higher faiths which implant on this the law of
righteousness and of holiness, the inspiration of duty and
of love.

.fn #
Herrera, ‘Indias Occidentales,’ Dec. <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 3, 3; <abbr rend=spell>J. G.</abbr> Müller, ‘Amer.
Urrel.’ <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 175, 221.
.fn-
.fn #
Turner, ‘Polynesia,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 174.
.fn-
.fn #
Rivero and Tschudi, ‘Peru,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 160.
.fn-
.fn #
Kingsborough, ‘Mexico,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=five>v.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 179.
.fn-
.fn #
Castrén, ‘Finn. Myth.’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 89.
.fn-
.fn #
Welcker, <lang=de>‘Griech. Götterl.’</lang> <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 371.
.fn-
.fn #
Ovid. Fast. <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> 449.
.fn-
.fn #
Doolittle, ‘Chinese,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 264.
.fn-
.fn #
Morgan, ‘Iroquois,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 158.
.fn-
.fn #
De Laet, <lang=la>‘Novus Orbis,’</lang> <abbr=fifteen>xv.</abbr> 2; Waitz, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=three>iii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 417; Brinson, <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 152,
185; <abbr rend=spell>J. G.</abbr> Müller, <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 271, &c.
.fn-
.fn #
D’Orbigny, <lang=fr>‘L’Homme Américain,’</lang> <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 319.
.fn-
.fn #
Clavigero, ‘Messico,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 16, 68, 75.
.fn-
.fn #
Ellis, ‘Polyn. Res.’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 333. Mariner, ‘Tonga Is.’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 115.
.fn-
.fn #
Cross, in ‘Journ. Amer. Oriental Soc.’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=four>iv.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 316; Mason, <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 215.
.fn-
.fn #
Macpherson, ‘India,’ <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 91, 355.
.fn-
.fn #
Castrén, ‘Finn. Myth.’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 89.
.fn-
.fn #
Welcker, <lang=de>‘Griech. Götterl.’</lang> <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 467. Cox, ‘Mythology of Aryan
Nations,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 308.
.fn-
.fn #
<abbr rend=spell>J. G.</abbr> Müller, ‘Amer. Urrel.’ <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 141, 271, 274, 591, &c.
.fn-
.fn #
Dobrizhoffer, ‘Abipones,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 90.
.fn-
.fn #
Clavigero, ‘Messico,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 17, 81.
.fn-
.fn #
Ellis, ‘Polyn. Res.’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 326; <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=four>iv.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 158. See also Mariner,
‘Tonga Is.’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 112; Williams, ‘Fiji,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 218.
.fn-
.fn #
Macpherson, ‘India,’ <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 90, 360.
.fn-
.fn #
Doolittle, ‘Chinese,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 267.
.fn-
.fn #
Welcker, <lang=de>‘Griech. Götterl.’</lang> <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 413. Cox, ‘Myth. of Aryan <abbr rend=spell>N.</abbr>,’
<abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 254, 311.
.fn-
.fn #
<abbr rend=spell>J. G.</abbr> Müller, ‘Amer. Urrel.’ <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 137, &c., 272, 286, &c., 500, &c. See
Sproat, <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 213 (Ahts), cited ante, <abbr=page>p.</abbr> #85#. Chay-her signifies not only the
world below, but Death personified as a boneless greybeard who wanders at
night stealing men’s souls away.
.fn-
.fn #
Lery, ‘Bresil,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 234.
.fn-
.fn #
Clavigero, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 14, 17; Brasseur, ‘Mexique,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=three>iii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 495.
.fn-
.fn #
‘Rites and Laws of Yncas,’ <abbr=translated>tr.</abbr> and <abbr=edited>ed.</abbr> by <abbr rend=spell>C. R.</abbr> Markham, <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 32, 48
(prayer from <abbr rend=spell>MS.</abbr> communication by <abbr rend=spell>C. R. M.</abbr>); Garcilaso de la Vega, <abbr=liber>lib.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr>
<abbr rend=spell>c.</abbr> 2, 7; Brinton, ‘Myths of New World,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 251.
.fn-
.fn #
Turner, ‘Polynesia,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 237; Farmer, ‘Tonga,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 126. Yate, ‘New
Zealand,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 140; <abbr rend=spell>J.</abbr> Williams, ‘Missionary Enterprise,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 145. See
Schirren, ‘Wandersagen der Neuseeländer,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 89; Williams, ‘Fiji,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr>
<abbr=page>p.</abbr> 246.
.fn-
.fn #
Castrén, ‘Finn. Myth.’ <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 128, 147, 155; Waitz, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 171
(Africa).
.fn-
.fn #
Welcker, <lang=de>‘Griech. Götterl.’</lang> <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 395; Roscher, <abbr rend=spell>s.v.</abbr> ‘Hades.’
Grimm, <lang=de>‘Deutsch. Myth.’</lang> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 288.
.fn-
.fn #
Brugsch, <lang=de>‘Religion der alten Aegypter’</lang>; ‘Book of Dead.’
.fn-
.fn #
Pr. Max. <abbr=five>v.</abbr> Wied, ‘<abbr rend=spell>N.</abbr> Amerika,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 157.
.fn-
.fn #
<abbr rend=spell>J. G.</abbr> Müller, ‘Amer. Urrel.’ <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 133, &c., 228, 255. Catlin, ‘<abbr rend=spell>N. A.</abbr> Ind.’
<abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 159, 177; Pr. Max <abbr=five>v.</abbr> Wied, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 149, &c. Compare Sproat,
‘Savage Life,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 179 (Quawteaht the Great Spirit is also First Man).
.fn-
.fn #
D’Orbigny, <lang=fr>‘L’Homme Américain,’</lang> <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 319.
.fn-
.fn #
Schirren, <lang=de>‘Wandersagen der Neuseeländer,’</lang> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 64, &c., 88, &c. Ellis,
‘Polyn. Res.’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 111, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=four>iv.</abbr> <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 145, 366.
.fn-
.fn #
Steller, ‘Kamtschatka,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 271.
.fn-
.fn #
Callaway, ‘Religion of Amazulu,’ <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 1-104.
.fn-
.fn #
‘Rig-Veda,’ <abbr=ten>x.</abbr> ‘Atharva-Veda,’ <abbr=eighteen>xviii.</abbr> Max Müller, ‘Lectures,’ <abbr=second>2nd</abbr> <abbr=Series>Ser.</abbr>
<abbr=page>p.</abbr> 514. Muir, ‘Yama,’ &c., in ‘Journ. As. Soc. <abbr rend=spell>N. S.</abbr>’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 1865. Roth in
<lang=de>‘Ztschr. Deutsch. Morgenl. <abbr rend=spell>G.</abbr>’</lang> <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=four>iv.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 426. Ward, ‘Hindoos,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 60.
Avesta: ‘Vendidad,’ <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> Pictet, ‘Origines Indo-Europ.’ part <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 621.
.fn-
.fn #
Eisenmenger, part <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 365.
.fn-
.fn #
Koran, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> 28, <abbr=seven>vii.</abbr> 10, &c.
.fn-
.fn #
Neander, ‘<abbr=History>Hist.</abbr> of Chr.’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 81, 109, 174.
.fn-
.fn #
Oldfield in ‘Tr. Eth. Soc.’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=three>iii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 228. See also Eyre, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 356;
Lang, ‘Queensland,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 444.
.fn-
.fn #
Loskiel, <lang=de>‘Gesch. der Mission unter den Ind. in Nord-Amer.’</lang> part <abbr=one>i.</abbr>
<abbr=chapter>ch.</abbr> 3.
.fn-
.fn #
Callaway, ‘Rel. of Amazulu,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 348.
.fn-
.fn #
Rochefort, ‘Iles Antilles,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 416. See <abbr rend=spell>J. G.</abbr> Müller, <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 207.
.fn-
.fn #
Schoolcraft, ‘Indian Tribes,’ part <abbr=five>v.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 632; see part <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 316, part
<abbr=six>vi.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 166; ‘Iroquois,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 36, see 237; Brinton, ‘Myths of New World,’
<abbr=page>p.</abbr> 63.
.fn-
.fn #
Brebeuf in <lang=fr>‘Rel. des Jésuites dans la Nouvelle France,’</lang> 1635, <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 34, 1636,
<abbr=page>p.</abbr> 100. Sagard, <lang=fr>‘Histoire du Canada,’</lang> Paris, 1636, <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 490. <abbr rend=spell>L. H.</abbr> Morgan,
‘Iroquois,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 156. See ante, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 288, 349.
.fn-
.fn #
Waitz, ‘Anthropologie,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=three>iii.</abbr> <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 182, 330, 335, 345; Le Jeune in
<lang=fr>‘Rel. des Jés.’</lang> 1637, <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 49; La Potherie, <lang=fr>‘Hist. de l’Amér. Septentrionale,’</lang>
Paris, 1722, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 121; <abbr rend=spell>J. G.</abbr> Müller, <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 149, &c. Schoolcraft, ‘Indian
Tribes,’ part <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 35, &c., 320, 412; Catlin, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 156; Cranz, ‘Grönland,’
<abbr=page>p.</abbr> 263.
.fn-
.fn #
Martius, ‘Ethnog. Amer.’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 327, 485, 583, 645, see 247, 393, 427,
696. See also <abbr rend=spell>J. G.</abbr> Müller, ‘Amer. Urrelig.’ <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 259, &c., 403, 423;
D’Orbigny, <lang=fr>‘L’Homme Américain,’</lang> <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 405, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 257; Falkner,
‘Patagonia,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 114; Musters, ‘Patagonians,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 179; Fitzroy, ‘<abbr=Voyage>Voy.</abbr> of
Adventure and Beagle,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 180, 190.
.fn-
.fn #
Piedrahita, ‘Hist. de Neuv. Granada,’ part <abbr=one>i.</abbr> book <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=chapter>ch.</abbr> 3.
.fn-
.fn #
Molina, ‘<abbr=History>Hist.</abbr> of Chili,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 84; Febres, ‘Diccionario Chileño,’ <abbr rend=spell>s.v.</abbr>
.fn-
.fn #
Proyart, ‘Loango,’ in Pinkerton, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=sixteen>xvi.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 504. Bastian, ‘Mensch,’
<abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 109. See Kolbe, ‘Kaap de Goede Hoop,’ part <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr='twenty-nine'>xxix.</abbr>: Waitz,
<abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 342 (Hottentots).
.fn-
.fn #
<abbr rend=spell>J. L.</abbr> Wilson, ‘<abbr=West>W.</abbr> <abbr=Africa>Afr.</abbr>’ <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 217, 387. Waitz, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 173.
.fn-
.fn #
Birch, in Bunsen, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=five>v.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 136. Wilkinson, ‘Ancient <abbr=Egypt>Eg.</abbr>’ &c.
.fn-
.fn #
Macpherson, ‘India,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 84.
.fn-
.fn #
Avesta, <abbr=translated>tr.</abbr> by Spiegel. Vendidad, <abbr=one>i.</abbr>; ‘Khorda-Avesta.’ <abbr='forty-five'>xlv.</abbr> <abbr='forty-six'>xlvi.</abbr>
Max Müller, ‘Lectures,’ <abbr=first>1st</abbr> <abbr=Series>Ser.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 208.
.fn-
.fn #
Layard, ‘Nineveh,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 297; Ainsworth, ‘Izedis,’ in ‘Tr. Eth. Soc.’
<abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 11.
.fn-
.fn #
Beausobre, ‘Hist. de Manichée,’ &c. Neander, ‘<abbr=History>Hist.</abbr> of Christian
Religion,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 157, &c.
.fn-
.fn #
Castrén, ‘Finn. Myth.’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 155.
.fn-
.fn #
Klemm, <lang=de>‘Cultur-Gesch.’</lang> <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=six>vi.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 85.
.fn-
.fn #
<lang=fr>‘Études Philologiques sur quelques Langues Sauvages de l’Amérique,’</lang>
par <abbr rend=spell>N. O.</abbr> (<abbr rend=spell>J. A.</abbr> Cuoq.) Montreal, 1866, <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 14. Brinton, ‘Myths of New
World,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 53. Schoolcraft, ‘Iroquois,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 33.
.fn-
.fn #
De la Borde, ‘Caraibes,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 524. <abbr rend=spell>J. G.</abbr> Müller, ‘Amer. Urrel.’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 228.
.fn-
.fn #
Dobrizhoffer, ‘Abipones,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 89.
.fn-
.fn #
Hutchinson, ‘Chaco Ind.’ in ‘Tr. Eth. Soc.’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=three>iii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 327.
.fn-
.fn #
D’Orbigny, <lang=fr>‘L’Homme Américain,’</lang> <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 319.
.fn-
.fn #
Molina, ‘<abbr=History>Hist.</abbr> of Chili,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 84, &c. Compare Febres, ‘Diccionario
Chileño.’
.fn-
.fn #
Rochefort, ‘Iles Antilles,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 415. Musters, ‘Patagonians,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 179.
.fn-
.fn #
‘Narratives of the Rites and Laws of the Yncas,’ <abbr=translated>trans.</abbr> from the original
Spanish <abbr rend=spell>MSS.</abbr>, and <abbr=edited>ed.</abbr> by <abbr rend=spell>C. R.</abbr> Markham, Hakluyt Soc. 1873, <abbr=page>p.</abbr> <abbr=nine>ix.</abbr> 5, 16,
30, 76, 84, 154, &c. The above remarks are based on the early evidence here
printed for the first time, and on private suggestions for which I am also
indebted to Mr. Markham. The title Pachacamac has been also considered
to mean Animator or Soul of the World, camani = I create, camac = creator,
cama = soul (note to <abbr=second>2nd</abbr> ed.). Garcilaso de la Vega, <abbr=liber>lib.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr>, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=chapter>c.</abbr> 2, <abbr=three>iii.</abbr> <abbr=chapter>c.</abbr> 20;
Herrera, dec. <abbr=five>v.</abbr> 4; Brinton, ‘Myths of New World,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 177, see 142; Rivero
and Tschudi, ‘Peruvian Antiquities,’ <abbr=chapter>ch.</abbr> <abbr=seven>vii.</abbr>; Waitz, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=four>iv.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 447; <abbr rend=spell>J. G.</abbr>
Müller, <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 317, &c.
.fn-
.fn #
Sagard, <lang=fr>‘Hist. du Canada,’</lang> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 490. Hennepin, <lang=fr>‘Voy. dans l’Amérique,’</lang>
<abbr=page>p.</abbr> 302. Gregg, ‘Commerce of Prairies,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 237.
.fn-
.fn #
Le Jeune, <lang=fr>‘Rel. des Jés.’</lang> 1637, <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 49; Brinton, <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 52; Lafitau, <lang=fr>‘Mœurs
des Sauvages Amériquains,’</lang> <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 126, 145 (note to <abbr=third>3rd</abbr> <abbr=edition>ed.</abbr>).
.fn-
.fn #
Egede, ‘Descr. of Greenland,’ <abbr=chapter>ch.</abbr> <abbr=eighteen>xviii.</abbr>; Cranz, ‘Grönland,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 263;
Rink, ‘Eskimoiske Eventyr,’ &c., <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 28.
.fn-
.fn #
Le Jeune, 1633, <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 16; 1634, <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 13.
.fn-
.fn #
Schoolcraft, ‘Indian Tribes,’ part <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 15.
.fn-
.fn #
Cartier, ‘Relation;’ Hakluyt, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=three>iii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 212; Lescarbot, <lang=fr>‘Nouvelle
France,’</lang> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 613. Thevet, <lang=fr>‘Singularitez de la France Antarctique,’</lang> Paris,
1558, <abbr=chapter>ch.</abbr> 77. See also <abbr rend=spell>J. G.</abbr> Müller, <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 102. Andouagni is perhaps a miscopied
form of Cudouagni. Other forms, Cudruagni, &c., occur.
.fn-
.fn #
Smith, ‘<abbr=History>Hist.</abbr> of Virginia,’ London, 1632, in Pinkerton, ‘Voyages,’
<abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=thirteen>xiii.</abbr> <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 13, 18, 244 (New Eng.); see Arber’s edition. Priority has been
claimed for <abbr rend=spell>E.</abbr> Strachey (see Lang, ‘Making of Religion,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 254), but this
copyist seems only to have copied Capt. Smith’s ‘Map of Virginia’ (1608).
Brinton, <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 58; Waitz, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=three>iii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 177, &c. <abbr rend=spell>J. G.</abbr> Müller, <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 99, &c.;
Loskiel, part <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 33, 43.
.fn-
.fn #
Brebeuf in <lang=fr>‘Rel. des Jés.’</lang> 1636, <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 107; see above, <abbr=page>p.</abbr> #255#. Sagard,
<abbr=page>p.</abbr> 494; Cuoq, <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 176; <abbr rend=spell>J. G.</abbr> Müller, <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 103. For other mention of a Supreme
Deity among North American tribes see Joutel, ‘Journal du Voyage,’ &c.,
Paris, 1713, <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 224 (Louisiana); Sproat in ‘Tr. Eth. Soc.’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=five>v.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 253
(Vancouver’s <abbr rend=spell>I.</abbr>).
.fn-
.fn #
Lafitau, <lang=fr>‘Mœurs des Sauvages Amériquains,’</lang> 1724, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 124-6.
.fn-
.fn #
Bartram in ‘Tr. Amer. Eth. Soc.’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=three>iii.</abbr> <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 20, 26.
.fn-
.fn #
Schoolcraft, ‘<abbr=Indian>Ind.</abbr> Tribes,’ part <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 127.
.fn-
.fn #
Prescott, ‘Mexico,’ book <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=chapter>ch.</abbr> <abbr=six>vi.</abbr> Sahagun, <lang=es>‘Hist. de Nueva España,’</lang>
<abbr=liber>lib.</abbr> <abbr=six>vi.</abbr> in Kingsborough, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=five>v.</abbr>; Torquemada, ‘Monarq. Ind.’ <abbr=liber>lib.</abbr> <abbr=ten>x.</abbr> <abbr=chapter>c.</abbr> 14.
Waitz, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=four>iv.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 136; <abbr rend=spell>J. G.</abbr> Müller, <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 621, &c.
.fn-
.fn #
Moerenhout, <lang=fr>‘Voy. aux Iles du Grand Océan,’</lang> <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 419, 437. Ellis,
‘Polyn. Res.’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 321, &c. <abbr rend=spell>J. R.</abbr> Forster, ‘Voyage round the World,’
<abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 540, 567. Grey, ‘Polyn. Myth.’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 6. Taylor, ‘New Zealand,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 118;
see above, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 322. Turner, ‘Polynesia,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 244. Mariner, ‘Tonga
Is.’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 116, 121. Schirren, ‘Wandersagen der Neuseeländer,’
<abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 68, 89.
.fn-
.fn #
Williams, ‘Fiji,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 217.
.fn-
.fn #
Callaway, ‘Religion of Amazulu,’ part <abbr=one>i.</abbr> See ante, <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> #116#, #313#.
.fn-
.fn #
See especially Waitz, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 167, &c.; <abbr rend=spell>J. L.</abbr> Wilson, ‘<abbr=west>W.</abbr> <abbr=Africa>Afr.</abbr>’
<abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 209, 387; Bosman, Mungo Park, &c. Comp. Ellis, ‘Madagascar,’
<abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 390.
.fn-
.fn #
Steinhauser, ‘Religion des Negers,’ in ‘Mag. der Miss.’ Basel, 1856.
<abbr=Number>No.</abbr> 2, <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 128. <abbr rend=spell>J. L.</abbr> Wilson, ‘<abbr=West>W.</abbr> <abbr=Africa>Afr.</abbr>’ <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 92, 209; Römer, ‘Guinea,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 42.
See also Waitz, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 171, 419.
.fn-
.fn #
Magyar, <lang=de>‘Reisen in Süd-Afrika,’</lang> <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 125, 335.
.fn-
.fn #
Bowen, ‘<abbr=Grammar>Gr.</abbr> and <abbr=Dictionary>Dic.</abbr> of Yoruba,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> <abbr=sixteen>xvi.</abbr> in ‘Smithsonian Contr.’
<abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr>
.fn-
.fn #
Macpherson, ‘India,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 84, &c.
.fn-
.fn #
Dalton, ‘Kols,’ in ‘Tr. Eth. Soc.’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=six>vi.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 32. Hunter, ‘Rural
Bengal,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 184.
.fn-
.fn #
Siebold, ‘Nippon.’ Kaempfer, ‘<abbr=History>Hist.</abbr> of Japan,’ 1727, book <abbr=one>I.</abbr> <abbr=chapter>ch.</abbr> <abbr=one>I</abbr>, <abbr=four>IV.</abbr>
For accurate modern information, see papers of Chamberlain and Satow in
‘Tr. As. Soc. Japan,’ and Murray’s Handbook (note to <abbr=third>3rd</abbr> <abbr=edition>ed.</abbr>).
.fn-
.fn #
Castrén, ‘Finn. Myth.’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 1, &c. Klemm, ‘Cultur-Gesch.’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=three>iii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 101.
‘Samoiedia,’ in Pinkerton, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 531. ‘Georgi, Reise im Russ. Reich.’
<abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 275.
.fn-
.fn #
Plath, <lang=de>‘Rel. der Alten Chinesen,’</lang> part <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 18, &c. See Max Müller,
‘Lectures on Science of Religion,’ <abbr=Number>No.</abbr> <abbr=three>III.</abbr> in ‘Fraser’s Mag.’ 1870. Legge,
‘Confucius,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 100.
.fn-
.fn #
See Colebrooke, ‘Essays,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> Wuttke, ‘Heidenthum,’ part <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 254.
Ward, ‘Hindoos,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> <abbr='twenty-one'>xxi.</abbr> <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 1.
.fn-
.fn #
Comte, ‘Philosophie Positive.’ <abbr rend=spell>Cf.</abbr> <abbr=Bishop>Bp.</abbr> Berkeley’s ‘Siris’; and for a
modern dissertation on the universal æther as the divine soul of the world,
see Phil. Spiller, <lang=de>‘Gott im Lichte der Naturwissenschaften,’</lang> Berlin, 1873
(note to <abbr=second>2nd</abbr> <abbr=edition>ed.</abbr>).
.fn-
.fn #
‘Rig-Veda,’ <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 164, 46. Max Müller, ‘Chips,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 27, 241.
.fn-
.fn #
See Welcker, <lang=de>‘Griech. Götterlehre,’</lang> <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 143, 175.
.fn-
.fn #
Avesta; <abbr=translation>trans.</abbr> by Spiegel, ‘Ormazd-Yasht.’ 12.
.fn-
.fn #
Wilkinson, ‘Ancient <abbr=Egypt>Eg.</abbr>’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=four>iv.</abbr> <abbr=chapter>ch.</abbr> <abbr=twelve>xii.</abbr>; Bunsen, ‘Egypt,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=four>iv.</abbr>
<abbr=page>p.</abbr> 325.
.fn-
.fn #
Movers, ‘Phönizier,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 169, &c.
.fn-
.fn #
‘Of the Principles and Duties of Natural Religion,’ London, 1678, book
<abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=chapter>ch.</abbr> <abbr=six>vi.</abbr> Johnson’s Dictionary, <abbr rend=spell>s.v.</abbr> The term ‘natural religion’ is used in
various and even incompatible senses. Thus Butler in his ‘Analogy of
Religion, Natural and Revealed, to the Constitution and Course of Nature,’
signifies by ‘natural religion’ a primæval system which he expressly argues
to have been not reasoned out, but taught first by revelation. This system,
of which the main tenets are the belief in one God, the Creator and Moral
Governor of the World, and in a future state of moral retribution, differs
in the extreme from the actual religions of the lower races.
.fn-
// File: 370.png
.pn +1
.sp 4
.h2 id=chap18
CHAPTER <abbr=eighteen>XVIII.</abbr> | RITES AND CEREMONIES.
.pm letter-start
Religious Rites: their purpose practical or symbolic—Prayer: its continuity
from low to high levels of Culture; its lower phases Unethical;
its higher phases Ethical—Sacrifice: its original Gift-theory passes
into the Homage-theory and the Abnegation-theory—Manner of reception
of Sacrifice by Deity—Material Transfer to elements, fetish-animals,
priests; consumption of substance by deity or idol; offering
of blood; transmission by fire; incense—Essential Transfer: consumption
of essence, savour, &c.—Spiritual Transfer: consumption or
transmission of soul of offering—Motive of Sacrificer—Transition from
Gift-theory to Homage-theory: insignificant and formal offerings;
sacrificial banquets—Abnegation-theory; sacrifice of children, &c.—Sacrifice
of Substitutes: part given for whole; inferior life for superior;
effigies—Modern survival of Sacrifice in folklore and religion—Fasting,
as a means of producing ecstatic vision; its course from lower to
higher Culture—Drugs used to produce ecstasy—Swoons and fits induced
for religious purposes—Orientation: its relation to Sun-myth
and Sun-worship; rules of East and West as to burial of dead, position
of worship, and structure of temple—Lustration by Water and Fire:
its transition from material to symbolic purification; its connexion
with special events of life; its appearance among the lower races—Lustration
of new-born children; of women; of those polluted by
bloodshed or the dead—Lustration continued at higher levels of Culture—Conclusion.
.pm letter-end
.sp 2
Religious rites fall theoretically into two divisions,
though these blend in practice. In part, they are expressive
and symbolic performances, the dramatic utterance
of religious thought, the gesture-language of theology.
In part, they are means of intercourse with and influence
on spiritual beings, and as such, their intention is as
directly practical as any chemical or mechanical process,
for doctrine and worship correlate as theory and practice.
In the science of religion, the study of ceremony has its
// File: 371.png
.pn +1
strong and weak sides. On the one hand, it is generally
easier to obtain accurate accounts of ceremonies by eye-witnesses,
than anything like trustworthy and intelligible
statements of doctrine; so that very much of our knowledge
of religion in the savage and barbaric world consists
in acquaintance with its ceremonies. It is also true that
some religious ceremonies are marvels of permanence,
holding substantially the same form and meaning through
age after age, and far beyond the range of historic record.
On the other hand, the signification of ceremonies is not to
be rashly decided on by mere inspection. In the long and
varied course in which religion has adapted itself to new
intellectual and moral conditions, one of the most marked
processes has affected time-honoured religious customs,
whose form has been faithfully and even servilely kept up,
while their nature has often undergone transformation. In
the religions of the great nations, the natural difficulty of
following these changes has been added to by the sacerdotal
tendency to ignore and obliterate traces of the inevitable
change of religion from age to age, and to convert
into mysteries ancient rites whose real barbaric meaning is
too far out of harmony with the spirit of a later time. The
embarrassments, however, which beset the enquirer into the
ceremonies of a single religion, diminish in a larger comparative
study. The ethnographer who brings together
examples of a ceremony from different stages of culture
can often give a more rational account of it, than the
priest, to whom a special signification, sometimes very
unlike the original one, has become matter of orthodoxy.
As a contribution to the theory of religion, with especial
view to its lower phases as explanatory of the higher, I
have here selected for ethnographic discussion a group of
sacred rites, each in its way full of instruction, different as
these ways are. All have early place and rudimentary
meaning in savage culture, all belong to barbaric ages, all
have their representatives within the limits of modern
Christendom. They are the rites of Prayer, Sacrifice,
// File: 372.png
.pn +1
Fasting and other methods of Artificial Ecstasy, Orientation,
Lustration.

Prayer, ‘the soul’s sincere desire, uttered or unexpressed,’
is the address of personal spirit to personal spirit.
So far as it is actually addressed to disembodied or deified
human souls, it is simply an extension of the daily intercourse
between man and man; while the worshipper who
looks up to other divine beings, spiritual after the nature of
his own spirit, though of place and power in the universe
far beyond his own, still has his mind in a state where
prayer is a reasonable and practical act. So simple and
familiar indeed is the nature of prayer, that its study does
not demand that detail of fact and argument which must be
given to rites in comparison practically insignificant. It
has not indeed been placed everywhere on record as the
necessary outcome of animistic belief, for especially at low
levels of civilization there are many races who distinctly
admit the existence of spirits, but are not positively known
to pray to them. Beyond this lower level, however, animism
and ceremonial prayer become nearly conterminous;
and a view of their relation in their earlier stages may be
best gained from a selection of actual prayers taken down
word for word, within the limits of savage and barbaric life.
These agree with an opinion that prayer appeared in the
religion of the lower culture, but that in this its earlier
stage it was unethical. The accomplishment of desire is
asked for, but desire is as yet limited to personal advantage.
It is at later and higher moral levels, that the worshipper
begins to add to his entreaty for prosperity the claim for
help toward virtue and against vice, and prayer becomes
an instrument of morality.

In the Papuan Island of Tanna, where the gods are the
spirits of departed ancestors, and preside over the growth
of fruits, a prayer after the offering of first-fruits is spoken
aloud by the chief who acts as high priest to the silent
assembly: ‘Compassionate father! Here is some food
for you; eat it; be kind to us on account of it!’ Then
// File: 373.png
.pn +1
all shout together.[#] In the Samoan Islands, when the
libation of ava was poured out at the evening meal, the
head of the family prayed thus:—

.pm letter-start
‘Here is ava for you, O gods! Look kindly towards this family:
let it prosper and increase; and let us all be kept in health. Let
our plantations be productive; let food grow; and may there be
abundance of food for us, your creatures. Here is ava for you,
our war gods! Let there be a strong and numerous people for you in
this land.

‘Here is ava for you, O sailing gods (gods who come in Tongan canoes
and foreign vessels). Do not come on shore at this place; but be pleased
to depart along the ocean to some other land.’[#]
.pm letter-end

Among the Indians of North America, more or less under
European influence, the Sioux will say, ‘Spirits of the dead,
have mercy on me!’ then they will add what they want,
if good weather they say so, if good luck in hunting, they
say so.[#] Among the Osages, prayers used not long since to
be offered at daybreak to Wohkonda, the Master of Life.
The devotee retired a little from the camp or company,
and with affected or real weeping, in loud uncouth voice
of plaintive piteous tone, howled such prayers as these:—
‘Wohkonda, pity me, I am very poor; give me what I
need; give me success against mine enemies, that I may
avenge the death of my friends. May I be able to take
scalps, to take horses! &c.’ Such prayers might or might
not have allusion to some deceased relative or friend.[#]
How an Algonquin Indian undertakes a dangerous voyage,
we may judge from John Tanner’s account of a fleet of
frail Indian bark canoes setting out at dawn one calm morning
on Lake Superior. We had proceeded, he writes, about
two hundred yards into the lake, when the canoes all
stopped together, and the chief, in a very loud voice, addressed
a prayer to the Great Spirit, entreating him to
// File: 374.png
.pn +1
give us a good look to cross the lake. ‘You,’ said he,
‘have made this lake, and you have made us, your
children; you can now cause that the water shall remain
smooth while we pass over in safety.’ In this manner he
continued praying for five or ten minutes; he then threw
into the lake a small quantity of tobacco, in which each of
the canoes followed his example.[#] A Nootka Indian, preparing
for war, prayed thus: ‘Great Quahootze, let me
live, not be sick, find the enemy, not fear him, find him
asleep, and kill a great many of him.’[#] There is more
pathos in these lines from the war-song of a Delaware:—

.pm verse-start
‘O Great Spirit there above
Have pity on my children
And my wife!
Prevent that they shall mourn for me!
Let me succeed in this undertaking,
That I may slay my enemy
And bring home the tokens of victory
To my dear family and my friends
That we may rejoice together....
Have pity on me and protect my life,
And I will bring thee an offering.’[#]
.pm verse-end

The following two prayers are among those recorded by
Molina, from the memory of aged men who described to
him the religion of Peru under the Incas, in whose rites
they had themselves borne part. The first is addressed to
the Sun, the second to the World-creator:—

.pm letter-start
‘O Sun! Thou who hast said, let there be Cuzcos and Tampus, grant
that these thy children may conquer all other people. We beseech thee
that thy children the Yncas may be the conquerors always, for this hast
thou created them.’

‘O conquering Uiracocha! Ever present Uiracocha! Thou who art
in the ends of the earth without equal! Thou who gavest life and valour
to men, saying “Let this be a man!” and to women, saying, “Let this
be a woman!” Thou who madest them and gavest them being! Watch
over them that they may live in health and peace. Thou who art in the
// File: 375.png
.pn +1
high heavens, and among the clouds of the tempest, grant this with long
life, and accept this sacrifice, O Uiracocha!’[#]
.pm letter-end

In Africa, the Zulus, addressing the spirits of their ancestors,
think it even enough to call upon them without saying
what they want, taking it for granted that the spirits know,
so that the mere utterance ‘People of our house!’ is a
prayer. When a Zulu sneezes, and is thus for the moment
in close relation to the divine spirits, it is enough for him
to mention what he wants (‘to wish a wish,’ as our own
folklore has it), and thus the words ‘A cow!’ ‘Children!’
are prayers. Fuller forms are such as these: ‘People of
our house! Cattle!’—‘People of our house! Good luck
and health!’—‘People of our house! Children!’ On
occasions of ancestral cattle-sacrifice the prayers extend to
actual harangues, as when, after the feast is over, the headman
speaks thus amid dead silence: ‘Yes, yes, our people,
who did such and such noble acts, I pray to you—I pray
for prosperity after having sacrificed this bullock of yours.
I say, I cannot refuse to give you food, for these cattle
which are here you gave me. And if you ask food of me
which you have given me, is it not proper that I should
give it to you? I pray for cattle, that they may fill this
pen. I pray for corn, that many people may come to this
village of yours, and make a noise, and glorify you. I ask
also for children, that this village may have a large population,
and that your name may never come to an end.’ So
he finishes.[#] From among the negro races near the equator,
the following prayers may be cited, addressed to that Supreme
Deity whose nature is, as we have seen, more or less
that of the Heaven-god. The Gold Coast negro would
raise his eyes to Heaven and thus address him: ‘God,
give me to-day rice and yams, gold and agries, give me
// File: 376.png
.pn +1
slaves, riches, and health, and that I may be brisk and
swift!’ The fetish-man will often in the morning take water
in his mouth and say, ‘Heaven! grant that I may have
something to eat to-day;’ and when giving medicine shown
him by the fetish, he will hold it up to heaven first, and
say, ‘Ata Nyongmo! (Father Heaven!) bless this medicine
that I now give.’ The Yebu would say, ‘God in heaven,
protect me from sickness and death. God give me happiness
and wisdom!’[#] When the Manganja of Lake Nyassa
were offering to the Supreme Deity a basketful of meal and
a pot of native beer, that he might give them rain, the
priestess dropped the meal handful by handful on the ground,
each time calling, in a high-pitched voice, ‘Hear thou, O
God, and send rain!’ and the assembled people responded,
clapping their hands softly and intoning (they always intone
their prayers) ‘Hear thou, O God!’[#]

Typical forms of prayer may be selected in Asia near the
junction-line of savage and barbaric culture. Among the
Karens of Burma, the Harvest-goddess has offerings made
to her in a little house in the paddy-field, in which two
strings are put for her to bind the spirits of any persons
who may enter her field. Then they entreat her on this
wise: ‘Grandmother, thou guardest my field, thou watchest
over my plantation. Look out for men entering; look
sharp for people coming in. If they come, bind them with
this string, tie them with this rope, do not let them go!’
And at the threshing of the rice they say: ‘Shake thyself,
Grandmother, shake thyself! Let the paddy ascend till it
equals a hill, equals a mountain. Shake thyself, Grandmother,
shake thyself!’[#] The following are extracts from
the long-drawn prayers of the Khonds of Orissa: ‘O Boora
Pennu! and O Tari Pennu, and all other gods! (naming
them). You, O Boora Pennu! created us, giving us the
attribute of hunger; thence corn food was necessary to us,
// File: 377.png
.pn +1
and thence were necessary producing fields. You gave us
every seed, and ordered us to use bullocks, and to make
ploughs, and to plough. Had we not received this art, we
might still indeed have existed upon the natural fruits of
the jungle and the plain, but, in our destitution, we could
not have performed your worship. Do you, remembering
this—the connexion betwixt our wealth and your honour—grant
the prayers which we now offer. In the morning, we
rise before the light to our labour, carrying the seed. Save
us from the tiger, and the snake, and from stumblingblocks.
Let the seed appear earth to the eating birds, and stones to
the eating animals of the earth. Let the grain spring up
suddenly like a dry stream that is swelled in a night. Let
the earth yield to our ploughshares as wax melts before hot
iron. Let the baked clods melt like hailstones. Let our
ploughs spring through the furrows with a force like the
recoil of a bent tree. Let there be such a return from our
seed, that so much shall fall and be neglected in the fields,
and so much on the roads in carrying it home, that, when
we shall go out next year to sow, the paths and the fields
shall look like a young corn-field. From the first times we
have lived by your favour. Let us continue to receive it.
Remember that the increase of our produce is the increase
of your worship, and that its diminution must be the diminution
of your rites.’ The following is the conclusion of a
prayer to the Earth-goddess: ‘Let our herds be so numerous
that they cannot be housed; let children so abound
that the care of them shall overcome their parents—as shall
be seen by their burned hands; let our heads ever strike
against brass pots innumerable hanging from our roofs; let
the rats form their nests of shreds of scarlet cloth and silk;
let all the kites in the country be seen in the trees of our
village, from beasts being killed there every day. We are
ignorant of what it is good to ask for. You know what is
good for us. Give it to us!’[#]
// File: 378.png
.pn +1

Such are types of prayer in the lower levels of culture,
and in no small degree they remain characteristic of the
higher nations. If, in long-past ages, the Chinese raised
themselves from the condition of rude Siberian tribes to
their peculiar culture, at any rate their consecutive religion
has scarce changed the matter-of-fact prayers for rain and
good harvest, wealth and long life, addressed to manes and
nature-spirits and merciful Heaven.[#] In other great national
religions of the world, not the whole of prayer, but a smaller
or larger part of it, holds closely to the savage definition.
This is a Vedic prayer: ‘What, Indra, has not yet been
given me by thee, Lightning-hurler, all good things bring
us hither with both hands ... with mighty riches
fill me, with wealth of cattle, for thou art great!’[#] This
is Moslem: ‘O Allah! unloose the captivity of the captives,
and annul the debts of the debtors: and make this town to
be safe and secure, and blessed with wealth and plenty, and
all the towns of the Moslems, O Lord of all creatures! and
decree safety and health to us and to all travellers, and
pilgrims, and warriors, and wanderers, upon thy earth,
and upon thy sea, such as are Moslems, O Lord of all creatures!’[#]
Thus also, throughout the rituals of Christendom,
stand an endless array of supplications unaltered in principle
from savage times—that the weather may be adjusted to
our local needs, that we may have the victory over all our
enemies, that life and health and wealth and happiness may
be ours.

So far, then, is permanence in culture: but now let us
glance at the not less marked lines of modification and new
formation. The vast political effect of a common faith in
developing the idea of exclusive nationality, a process
scarcely expanding beyond the germ among savage tribes,
but reaching its full growth in the barbaric world, is apt to
have its outward manifestation in hostility to those of another
// File: 379.png
.pn +1
creed, a sentiment which finds vent in characteristic prayers.
Such are these from the Rig-Veda: ‘Take away our
calamities. By sacred verses may we overcome those who
employ no holy hymns! Distinguish between the Aryas and
those who are Dasyus: chastising those who observe no
sacred rites, subject them to the sacrificer.... Indra
subjects the impious to the pious, and destroys the irreligious
by the religious.’[#] The following is from the closing
prayer which the boys in many schools in Cairo used to
repeat some years ago, and very likely do still: ‘I seek
refuge with Allah from Satan the accursed. In the name
of Allah, the Compassionate, the Merciful ... O Lord of
all creatures! O Allah! destroy the infidels and polytheists,
thine enemies, the enemies of the religion! O Allah! make
their children orphans, and defile their abodes, and cause
their feet to slip, and give them and their families and their
households and their women and their children and their
relations by marriage and their brothers and their friends
and their possessions and their race and their wealth and
their lands as booty to the Moslems! O Lord of all
creatures!’[#] Another powerful tendency of civilization,
that of regulating human affairs by fixed ordinance, has
since early ages been at work to arrange worship into
mechanical routine. Here, so to speak, religion deposits
itself in sharply defined shape from a supersaturated solution,
and crystallizes into formalism. Thus prayers, from
being at first utterances as free and flexible as requests to a
living patriarch or chief, stiffened into traditional formulas,
whose repetition required verbal accuracy, and whose nature
practically assimilated more or less to that of charms.
Liturgies, especially in those three quarters of the world
where the ancient liturgical language has become at once
unintelligible and sacred, are crowded with examples of this
historical process. Its extremest development in Europe
is connected with the use of the rosary. This devotional
// File: 380.png
.pn +1
calculating-machine is of Asiatic invention; it had if not its
origin at least its special development among the ancient
Buddhists, and its 108 balls still slide through the modern
Buddhist’s hands as of old, measuring out the sacred
formulas whose reiteration occupies so large a fraction of a
pious life. It was not till toward the middle ages that the
rosary passed into Mohammedan and Christian lands, and
finding there conceptions of prayer which it was suited to
accompany, has flourished ever since. How far the Buddhist
devotional formulas themselves partake of the nature of
prayer, is a question opening into instructive considerations,
which need only be suggested here. By its derivation from
Brahmanism and its fusion with the beliefs of rude spirit-worshipping
populations, Buddhism practically retains in
no small measure a prayerful temper and even practice. Yet,
according to strict and special Buddhist philosophy, where
personal divinity has faded into metaphysical idea, even
devotional utterances of desire are not prayers; as Köppen
says, there is no ‘Thou!’ in them. It must be only with
reservation that we class the rosary in Buddhist hands as an
instrument of actual prayer. The same is true of the still
more extreme development of mechanical religion, the
prayer-mill of the Tibetan Buddhists. This was perhaps
originally a symbolic ‘chakra’ or wheel of the law, but has
become a cylinder mounted on an axis, which by each rotation
is considered to repeat the sentences written on the
papers it is filled with, usually the ‘Om mani padme hûm!’
Prayer-mills vary in size, from the little wooden toys held
in the hand, to the great drums turned by wind or water-power,
which repeat their sentences by the million.[#] The
Buddhist idea, that ‘merit’ is produced by the recitation
of these sentences, may perhaps lead us to form an opinion
of large application in the study of religion and superstition,
namely, that the theory of prayers may explain the origin of
charms. Charm-formulas are in very many cases actual
// File: 381.png
.pn +1
prayers, and as such are intelligible. Where they are mere
verbal forms, producing their effect on nature and man by
some unexplained process, may not they or the types they
were modelled on have been originally prayers, since
dwindled into mystic sentences?

The worshipper cannot always ask wisely what is for his
good, therefore it may be well for him to pray that the
greater power of the deity may be guided by his greater
wisdom—this is a thought which expands and strengthens
in the theology of the higher nations. The simple prayer
of Sokrates, that the gods would give such things as are
good, for they know best what are good,[#] raises a strain of
supplication which has echoed through Christendom from
its earliest ages. Greatest of all changes which difference the
prayers of lower from those of higher nations, is the working
out of the general principle that the ethical element, so
scanty and rudimentary in the lower forms of religion, becomes
in the higher its most vital point; while it scarcely
appears as though any savage prayer, authentically native
in its origin, were ever directed to obtain moral goodness or
to ask pardon for moral sin. Among the semi-civilized
Aztecs, in the elaborate ritual which from its early record
and its original characteristics may be thought to have a
partial authenticity, we mark the appearance of ethical
prayer. Such is the supplication concerning the newly-elect
ruler: ‘Make him, Lord, as your true image, and
permit him not to be proud and haughty in your throne and
court; but vouchsafe, Lord, that he may calmly and carefully
rule and govern them whom he has in charge, the
people, and permit not, Lord, that he may injure or vex his
subjects, nor without reason and justice cause loss to any;
and permit not, Lord, that he may spot or soil your throne
or court with any injustice or wrong, &c.’[#] Moral prayer,
sometimes appearing in rudiment, sometimes shrunk into
// File: 382.png
.pn +1
insignificance, sometimes overlaid by formalism, sometimes
maintained firm and vigorous in the inmost life, has its
place without as well as within the Jewish-Christian scheme.
The ancient Aryan prayed: ‘Through want of strength,
thou strong and bright god, have I gone wrong; have
mercy, almighty, have mercy!... Whenever we men,
O Varuna, commit an offence before the heavenly host, whenever
we break the law through thoughtlessness, have mercy,
almighty, have mercy!’[#] The modern Parsi prays: ‘Of
my sins which I have committed against the ruler Ormazd,
against men, and the different kinds of men.... Deceit,
contempt, idol-worship, lies, I repent of.... All and
every kind of sin which men have committed because of
me, or which I have committed because of men; pardon, I
repent with confession!’[#] As a general rule it would be
misleading to judge utterances of this kind in the religions
of classic Greece and Rome as betokening the intense
habitual prayerfulness which pervades the records of
Judaism, Mohammedanism, Christianity. Moralists admit
that prayer can be made an instrument of evil, that it may
give comfort and hope to the superstitious robber, that it
may strengthen the heart of the soldier to slay his foes in
an unrighteous war, that it may uphold the tyrant and the
bigot in their persecution of freedom in life and thought.
Philosophers dwell on the subjective operation of prayer, as
acting not directly on outward events, but on the mind and
will of the worshipper himself, which it influences and confirms.
The one argument tends to guide prayer, the other to
suppress it. Looking on prayer in its effect on man himself
through the course of history, both must recognize it as even
in savage religion a means of strengthening emotion, of sustaining
courage and exciting hope, while in higher faiths it becomes
a great motive power of the ethical system, controlling
and enforcing, under an ever-present sense of supernatural
intercourse and aid, the emotions and energies of moral life.
// File: 383.png
.pn +1

Sacrifice has its apparent origin in the same early period
of culture and its place in the same animistic scheme as
prayer, with which through so long a range of history it has
been carried on in the closest connexion. As prayer is a
request made to a deity as if he were a man, so sacrifice
is a gift made to a deity as if he were a man. The human
types of both may be studied unchanged in social life to this
day. The suppliant who bows before his chief, laying a
gift at his feet and making his humble petition, displays the
anthropomorphic model and origin at once of sacrifice and
prayer. But sacrifice, though in its early stages as intelligible
as prayer is in early and late stages alike, has passed
in the course of religious history into transformed conditions,
not only of the rite itself but of the intention with
which the worshipper performs it. And theologians, having
particularly turned their attention to sacrifice as it appears
in the higher religions, have been apt to gloss over with
mysticism ceremonies which, when traced ethnographically
up from their savage forms, seem open to simply rational
interpretation. Many details of offerings have already been
given incidentally here, as a means of elucidating the nature
of the deities they are offered to. Moreover, a main part
of the doctrine of sacrifice has been anticipated in examining
the offerings to spirits of the dead, and indeed the ideal distinction
between soul and deity breaks down among the
lower races, when it appears how often the deities receiving
sacrifice are themselves divine human souls. In now attempting
to classify sacrifice in its course through the religions
of the world, it seems a satisfactory plan to group
the evidence as far as may be according to the manner
in which the offering is given by the worshipper, and received
by the deity. At the same time, the examples may
be so arranged as to bring into view the principal lines along
which the rite has undergone alteration. The ruder conception
that the deity takes and values the offering for itself,
gives place on the one hand to the idea of mere homage
expressed by a gift, and on the other to the negative view
// File: 384.png
.pn +1
that the virtue lies in the worshipper depriving himself of
something prized. These ideas may be broadly distinguished
as the gift-theory, the homage-theory, and the
abnegation-theory. Along all three the usual ritualistic
change may be traced, from practical reality to formal
ceremony. The originally valuable offering is compromised
for a smaller tribute or a cheaper substitute, dwindling at
last to a mere trifling token or symbol.

The gift-theory, as standing on its own independent
basis, properly takes the first place. That most childlike
kind of offering, the giving of a gift with as yet no definite
thought how the receiver can take and use it, may be the
most primitive as it is the most rudimentary sacrifice.
Moreover, in tracing the history of the ceremony from level
to level of culture, the same simple unshaped intention may
still largely prevail, and much of the reason why it is often
found difficult to ascertain what savages and barbarians
suppose to become of the food and valuables they offer to
the gods, may be simply due to ancient sacrificers knowing
as little about it as modern ethnologists do, and caring less.
Yet rude races begin and civilized races continue to furnish
with the details of their sacrificial ceremonies the key also to
their meaning, the explanation of the manner in which the
offering is supposed to pass into the possession of the deity.

Beginning with cases in which this transmission is performed
bodily, it appears that when the deity is the personal
Water, Earth, Fire, Air, or a fetish-spirit animating or
inhabiting such element, he can receive and sometimes
actually consume the offerings given over to this material
medium. How such notions may take shape is not ill
shown in the quaintly rational thought noticed in old Peru,
that the Sun drinks the libations poured out before him;
and in modern Madagascar, that the Angatra drinks the
arrack left for him in the leaf-cup. Do not they see the
liquids diminish from day to day?[#] The sacrifice to Water
// File: 385.png
.pn +1
is exemplified by Indians caught in a storm on the North
American lakes, who would appease the angry tempest-raising
deity by tying the feet of a dog and throwing it
overboard.[#] The following case from Guinea well shows
the principle of such offerings. Once in 1693, the sea
being unusually rough, the headmen complained to the
king, who desired them to be easy, and he would make the
sea quiet next day. Accordingly he sent his fetishman
with a jar of palm oil, a bag of rice and corn, a jar of pitto,
a bottle of brandy, a piece of painted calico, and several
other things to present to the sea. Being come to the sea-side,
he made a speech to it, assuring it that his king was
its friend, and loved the white men; that they were honest
fellows and came to trade with him for what he wanted;
and that he requested the sea not to be angry, nor hinder
them to land their goods; he told it, that if it wanted palm
oil, his king had sent it some; and so threw the jar with
the oil into the sea, as he did, with the same compliment,
the rice, corn, pitto, brandy, calico, &c.[#] Among the North
American Indians the Earth also receives offerings buried
in it. The distinctness of idea with which such objects
may be given is well shown in a Sioux legend. The Spirit
of the earth, it seems, requires an offering from those who
perform extraordinary achievements, and accordingly the
prairie gapes open with an earthquake before the victorious
hero of the tale; he casts a partridge into the crevice, and
springs over.[#] One of the most explicit recorded instances
of the offering to the Earth is the hideous sacrifice to the
Earth-goddess among the Khonds of Orissa, the tearing of the
flesh of the human victim from the bones, the priest burying
half of it in a hole in the earth behind his back without
// File: 386.png
.pn +1
looking round, and each householder carrying off a particle
to bury in like manner in his favourite field.[#] For offerings
to the Fire, we may take for an example the Yakuts, who
not only give him the first spoonful of food, but instead of
washing their earthen pots allow him to clean out the remains.[#]
Here is a New Zealand charm called Wangaihau,
i.e., feeding the Wind:—

.pm verse-start
‘Lift up his offering,
To Uenga a te Rangi his offering,
Eat, O invisible one, listen to me,
Let that food bring you down from the sky.’[#]
.pm verse-end

Beside this may be set the quaint description of the Fanti
negroes assisting at the sacrifice of men and cattle to the
local fetish; the victims were considered to be carried up in
a whirlwind out of the midst of the small inner ring of
priests and priestesses; this whirlwind was, however, not
perceptible to the senses of the surrounding worshippers.[#]
These series of details collected from the lower civilization
throw light on curious problems as to sacrificial ideas in
the religions of the classic world; such questions as what
Xerxes meant when he threw the golden goblet and the
sword into the Hellespont, which he had before chained
and scourged; why Hannibal cast animals into the sea as
victims to Poseidon; what religious significance underlay
the patriotic Roman legend of the leap of Marcus
Curtius.[#]

Sacred animals, in their various characters of divine
beings, incarnations, representatives, agents, symbols, naturally
receive meat and drink offerings, and sometimes other
gifts. For examples, may be mentioned the sun-birds
(tonatzuli), for which the Apalaches of Florida set out
// File: 387.png
.pn +1
crushed maize and seed;[#] the Polynesian deities coming
incarnate in the bodies of birds to feed on the meat-offerings
and carcases of human victims set out upon the altar-scaffolds;[#]
the well-fed sacred snakes of West Africa, and
local fetish animals like the alligator at Dix Cove which
will come up at a whistle, and follow a man half a mile if he
carries a white fowl in his hands, or the shark at Bonny
that comes to the river bank every day to see if a human
victim has been provided for his repast;[#] in modern India
the cows reverently fed with fresh grass, Durga’s meat-offerings
laid out on stones for the jackals, the famous
alligators in their temple-tanks.[#] The definition of sacred
animal from this point of view distinctly includes man.
Such in Mexico was the captive youth adored as living representative
of Tezcatlipoca, and to whom banquets were
made during the luxurious twelvemonth which preceded his
sacrifice at the festival of the deity whom he personated:
such still more definitely was Cortes himself, when Montezuma
supposed him to be the incarnate Quetzalcoatl come
back into the land, and sent human victims accordingly to
be slaughtered before him, should he seem to lust for blood.[#]
Such in modern India is the woman who as representative
of Radha eats and drinks the offerings at the shameless
orgies of the Saktas.[#] More usually it is the priest who as
minister of the deities has the lion’s share of the offerings
or the sole privilege of consuming them, from the Fijian
priest who watches for the turtle and puddings apportioned
to his god,[#] and the West African priest who carries the
allowances of food sent to the local spirits of mountain, or
river, or grove, which food he eats himself as the spirit’s
// File: 388.png
.pn +1
proxy,[#] to the Brahmans who receive for the divine ancestors
the oblation of a worshipper who has no sacred fire to
consume it, ‘for there is no difference between the Fire
and a Brahman, such is the judgment declared by them
who know the Veda.’[#] It is needless to collect details of
a practice so usual in the great systematic religions of the
world, where priests have become professional ministers and
agents of deity, as for them to partake of the sacrificial meats.
It by no means follows from this usage that the priest is
necessarily supposed to consume the food as representative
of his divinity; in the absence of express statement to such
effect, the matter can only be treated as one of ceremonial
ordinance. Indeed, the case shows the caution needed in
interpreting religious rites, which in particular districts
may have meanings attached to them quite foreign to their
general intent.

The feeding of an idol, as when Ostyaks would pour daily
broth into the dish at the image’s mouth,[#] or when the
Aztecs would pour the blood and put the heart of the
slaughtered human victim into the monstrous idol’s mouth,[#]
seems ceremonial make-believe, but shows that in each case
the deity was somehow considered to devour the meal.
The conception among the lower races of deity, as in disembodied
spiritual form, is even less compatible with the
notion that such a being should consume solid matter. It
is true that the notion does occur. In old times it appears
in the legend of Bel and the Dragon, where the footprints
in the strewn ashes betray the knavish priests who come by
secret doors to eat up the banquet set before Bel’s image.[#]
In modern centuries, it may be exemplified by the negroes
of Labode, who could hear the noise of their god Jimawong
emptying one after another the bottles of brandy handed in
// File: 389.png
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at the door of his straw-roofed temple;[#] or among the
Ostyaks, who, as Pallas relates, used to leave a horn of snuff
for their god, with a shaving of willow bark to stop his
nostrils with after the country fashion; the traveller
describes their astonishment when sometimes an unbelieving
Russian has emptied it in the night, leaving the simple
folk to conclude that the deity must have gone out hunting
to have snuffed so much.[#] But these cases turn on fraud,
whereas absurdities in which low races largely agree are apt
to have their origin rather in genuine error. Indeed, their
dominant theories of the manner in which deities receive
sacrifice are in accordance not with fraud but with facts, and
must be treated as strictly rational and honest developments
of the lower animism. The clearest and most general of
these theories are as follows.

When the deity is considered to take actual possession of
the food or other objects offered, this may be conceived to
happen by abstraction of their life, savour, essence, quality,
and in yet more definite conception their spirit or soul.
The solid part may die, decay, be taken away or consumed
or destroyed, or may simply remain untouched. Among
this group of conceptions, the most materialized is that
which carries out the obvious primitive world-wide doctrine
that the life is the blood. Accordingly, the blood
is offered to the deity, and even disembodied spirits are
thought capable of consuming it, like the ghosts for whom
Odysseus entering Hades poured into the trench the
blood of the sacrificed ram and black ewe, and the pale
shades drank and spoke;[#] or the evil spirits which the
Mintira of the Malay Peninsula keep away from the wife in
childbirth by placing her near the fire, for the demons
are believed to drink human blood when they can find it.[#]
Thus in Virginia the Indians (in pretence or reality)
sacrificed children, whose blood the oki or spirit was said
// File: 390.png
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to suck from their left breast.[#] The Kayans of Borneo
used to offer human sacrifice when a great chief took
possession of a newly built house; in one late case, about
1847, a Malay slave girl was bought for the purpose and
bled to death, the blood, which alone is efficacious, being
sprinkled on the pillars and under the house, and the body
being thrown into the river.[#] The same ideas appear
among the indigenes of India, alike in North Bengal and
in the Deccan, where the blood alone of the sacrificed animal
is for the deities, and the votary retains the meat.[#] Thus,
in West Africa, the negroes of Benin are described as offering
a cock to the idol, but it receives only the blood, for they
like the flesh very well themselves;[#] while in the Yoruba
country, when a beast is sacrificed for a sick man, the
blood is sprinkled on the wall and smeared on the
patient’s forehead, with the idea, it is said, of thus transferring
to him the victim’s life.[#] The Jewish law of
sacrifice marks clearly the distinction between shedding
the blood as life, and offering it as food. As the Israelites
themselves might not eat with the flesh the blood which
is the life, but must pour it on the earth as water, so
the rule applies to sacrifice. The blood must be sprinkled
before the sanctuary, put upon the horns of the altar, and
there sprinkled or poured out, but not presented as a
drink offering—‘their drink-offerings of blood will I not
offer.’[#]

Spirit being considered in the lower animism as somewhat
of the ethereal nature of smoke or mist, there is an
// File: 391.png
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obvious reasonableness in the idea that offerings reduced to
this condition are fit to be consumed by, or transmitted to,
spiritual beings towards whom the vapour rises in the air.
This idea is well shown in the case of incense, and especially
a peculiar kind of incense offered among the native tribes of
America. The habit of smoking tobacco is not suggestive
of religious rites among ourselves, but in its native country,
where it is so widely diffused as to be perhaps the best point
assignable in favour of a connexion in the culture of the
northern and southern continent, its place in worship is
very important. The Osages would begin an undertaking
by smoking a pipe, with such a prayer as this: ‘Great
Spirit, come down to smoke with me as a friend! Fire
and Earth, smoke with me and help me to overthrow my
foes!’ The Sioux in Hennepin’s time would look toward
the Sun when they smoked, and when the calumet was
lighted, they presented it to him, saying: ‘Smoke, Sun!’
The Natchez chief at sunrise smoked first to the east and
then to the other quarters; and so on. It is not merely,
however, that puffs from the tobacco-pipe are thus offered
to deities as drops of drink or morsels of food might be.
The calumet is a special gift of the Sun or the Great
Spirit, tobacco is a sacred herb, and smoking is an agreeable
sacrifice ascending into the air to the abode of gods
and spirits.[#] Among the Caribs, the native sorcerer evoking
a demon would puff tobacco-smoke into the air as an agreeable
perfume to attract the spirit; while among Brazilian
tribes the sorcerers smoked round upon the bystanders and
on the patient to be cured.[#] How thoroughly incense and
burnt-offering are of the same nature, the Zulus well show,
burning incense together with the fat of the caul of the
slaughtered beast, to give the spirits of the people a sweet
// File: 392.png
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savour.[#] As to incense more precisely of the sort we
are familiar with, it was in daily use in the temples of
Mexico, where among the commonest antiquarian relics are
the earthen incense-pots in which ‘copalli’ (whence our
word copal) and bitumen were burnt.[#] Though incense was
hardly usual in the ancient religion of China, yet in modern
Chinese houses and temples the ‘joss-stick’ and censer do
honour to all divine beings, from the ancestral manes to the
great gods and Heaven and Earth.[#] The history of incense
in the religion of Greece and Rome points the contrast
between old thrift and new extravagance, where the early
fumigations with herbs and chips of fragrant wood are contrasted
with the later oriental perfumes, myrrh and cassia
and frankincense.[#] In the temples of ancient Egypt, numberless
representations of sacrificial ceremony show the
burning of the incense-pellets in censers before the images
of the gods; and Plutarch speaks of the incense burnt
thrice daily to the Sun, resin at his rising, myrrh at his
meridian, kuphi at his setting.[#] The ordinance held as prominent
a place among the Semitic nations. At the yearly
festival of Bel in Babylon, the Chaldæans are declared by
Herodotus to have burned a thousand talents of incense on
the large altar in the temple where sat his golden image.[#]
In the records of ancient Israel, there has come down to
us the very recipe for compounding incense after the art
of the apothecary. The priests carried every man his
censer, and on the altar of incense, overlaid with gold,
standing before the vail in the tabernacle, sweet spices
// File: 393.png
.pn +1
were burned morn and even, a perpetual incense before
the Lord.[#]

The sacrifice by fire is familiar to the religion of North
American tribes. Thus the Algonquins knew the practice
of casting into the fire the first morsel of the feast; and
throwing fat into the flames for the spirits, they would pray
to them ‘make us find food.’ Catlin has described and
sketched the Mandans dancing round the fire where the first
kettleful of the green-corn is being burned, an offering to
the Great Spirit before the feast begins.[#] The Peruvians
burnt llamas as offerings to the Creator, Sun, Moon, and
Thunder, and other lesser deities. As to the operation of
sacrifice, an idea of theirs comes well into view in the
legend of Manco Ccapac ordering the sacrifice of the most
beautiful of his sons, ‘cutting off his head, and sprinkling
the blood over the fire, that the smoke might reach the
Maker of heaven and earth.’[#] In Siberia the sacrifices of
the Tunguz and Buraets, in the course of which bits of
meat and liver and fat are cast into the fire, carry on the
same idea.[#] Chinese sacrifices to sun and moon, stars and
constellations, show their purpose in most definite fashion;
beasts and even silks and precious stones are burned, that
their vapour may ascend to these heavenly spirits.[#] No less
significant, though in a different sense, is the Siamese offering
to the household deity, incense and arrack and rice
steaming hot; he does not eat it all, not always any part of
it, it is the fragrant steam which he loves to inhale.[#] Looking
now to the records of Aryan sacrifice, views similar to
these are not obscurely expressed. When the Brahman
burns the offerings on the altar-fire, they are received by
// File: 394.png
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Agni the divine Fire, mouth of the gods, messenger of the
All-knowing, to whom is chanted the Vedic strophe, ‘Agni!
the sacrifice which thou encompassest whole, it goes unto
the gods!’[#] The Homeric poems show the plain meaning
of the hecatombs of old barbaric Greece, where the savour
of the burnt offering went up in wreathing smoke to heaven,
<lang=grc>‘Κνίσση δ’ οὐρανὸν ἶκεν ἐλισσομένη περὶ καπνῷ.’</lang>[#] Passed into
a far other stage of history, men’s minds had not lost sight
of the archaic thought even in Porphyry’s time, for he
knows how the demons who desire to be gods rejoice in the
libations and fumes of sacrifice, whereby their spiritual and
bodily substance fattens, for this lives on the steam and
vapours and is strengthened by the fumes of the blood
and flesh.[#]

The view of commentators that sacrifice, as a religious
act of remote antiquity and world-wide prevalence, was
adopted, regulated, and sanctioned in the Jewish law, is in
agreement with the general ethnography of the subject.
Here sacrifice appears not with the lower conception
of a gift acceptable and even beneficial to deity, but
with the higher significance of devout homage or expiation
for sin. As is so usual in the history of religion,
the offering consisted in general of food, and the consummation
of the sacrifice was by fire. To the ceremonial
details of the sacrificial rites of Israel, whether prescribing
the burning of the carcases of oxen and sheep or of the
bloodless gifts of flour mingled with oil, there is appended
again and again the explanation of the intent of the rite;
it is ‘an offering made by fire, of a sweet savour unto
the Lord.’ The copious records of sacrifice in the Old
Testament enable us to follow its expansion from the simple
patriarchal forms of a pastoral tribe, to the huge and
complex system organized to carry on the ancient service
in a now populous and settled kingdom. Among writers
on the Jewish religion, Dean Stanley has vividly portrayed
// File: 395.png
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the aspect of the Temple, with the flocks of sheep
and droves of cattle crowding its courts, the vast apparatus
of slaughter, the great altar of burnt-offering towering
above the people, where the carcases were laid, the drain
beneath to carry off the streams of blood. To this historian,
in sympathy rather with the spirit of the prophet than the
ceremony of the priest, it is a congenial task to dwell upon
the great movement in later Judaism to maintain the
place of ethical above ceremonial religion.[#] In those times
of Hebrew history, the prophets turned with stern rebuke
on those who ranked ceremonial ordinance above weightier
matters of the law. ‘I desired mercy and not sacrifice, and
the knowledge of God more than burnt offerings.’ ‘I
delight not in the blood of bullocks, or of lambs, or of he
goats.... Wash you, make you clean; put away the evil
of your doings from before mine eyes. Cease to do evil,
learn to do well.’

Continuing the enquiry into the physical operation
ascribed to sacrifice, we turn to a different conception. It
is an idea well vouched for in the lower culture, that the
deity, while leaving apparently untouched the offering set
out before him, may nevertheless partake of or abstract
what in a loose way may be described as its essence. The
Zulus leave the flesh of the sacrificed bullock all night, and
the divine ancestral spirits come and eat, yet next morning
everything remains just as it was. Describing this practice,
a native Zulu thus naïvely comments on it: ‘But when we
ask, “What do the Amadhlozi eat? for in the morning we
still see all the meat,” the old men say, “The Amatongo lick
it.” And we are unable to contradict them, but are silent,
for they are older than we, and tell us all things and we
listen; for we are told all things, and assent without seeing
clearly whether they are true or not.’[#] Such imagination
// File: 396.png
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was familiar to the native religion of the West Indian
islands. In Columbus’ time, and with particular reference
to Hispaniola, Roman Pane describes the native mode of
sacrifice. Upon any solemn day, when they provide much
to eat, whether fish, flesh, or any other thing, they put it all
into the house of the cemis, that the idol may feed on it.
The next day they carry all home, after the cemi has eaten.
And God so help them (says the friar), as the cemi eats of
that or anything else, they being inanimate stocks or stones.
A century and a half later, a similar notion still prevailed
in these islands. Nothing could show it more neatly than
the fancy of the Caribs that they could hear the spirits in
the night moving the vessels and champing the food set out
for them, yet next morning there was nothing touched; it
was held that the viands thus partaken of by the spirits
had become holy, so that only the old men and considerable
people might taste them, and even these required a certain
bodily purity.[#] Islanders of Pulo Aur, though admitting
that their banished disease-spirits did not actually consume
the grains of rice set out for them, nevertheless believed
them to appropriate its essence.[#] In India, among the
indigenes of the Garo hills, we hear of the head and blood
of the sacrificed animal being placed with some rice under a
bamboo arch covered with a white cloth; the god comes
and takes what he wants, and after a time this special offering
is dressed for the company with the rest of the animal.[#]
The Khond deities live on the flavours and essences drawn
from the offerings of their votaries, or from animals or grain
which they cause to die or disappear.[#] When the Buraets
of Siberia have sacrificed a sheep and boiled the mutton,
they set it up on a scaffold for the gods while the shaman is
// File: 397.png
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chanting his song, and then themselves fall to.[#] And thus,
in the folklore of mediæval Europe, Domina Abundia would
come with her dames into the houses at night, and eat and
drink from the vessels left uncovered for their increase-giving
visit, yet nothing was consumed.[#]

The extreme animistic view of sacrifice is that the soul
of the offered animal or thing is abstracted by or transmitted
to the deity. This notion of spirits taking souls is
in a somewhat different way exemplified among the Binua
of Johore, who hold that the evil River-spirits inflict
diseases on man by feeding on the ‘semangat,’ or unsubstantial
body (in ordinary parlance the spirit) in which his
life resides,[#] while the Karen demon devours not the body
but the ‘la,’ spirit or vital principle; thus when it eats a
man’s eyes, their material part remains, but they are blind.[#]
Now an idea similar to this furnished the Polynesians with
a theory of sacrifice. The priest might send commissions
by the sacrificed human victim; spirits of the dead are
eaten by the gods or demons; the spiritual part of the
sacrifices is eaten by the spirit of the idol (i.e. the deity
dwelling or embodied in the idol) before whom it is presented.[#]
Of the Fijians it is observed that of the great
offerings of food native belief apportions merely the soul to
the gods, who are described as being enormous eaters; the
substance is consumed by the worshippers. As in various
other districts of the world, human sacrifice is here in fact
a meat-offering; cannibalism is a part of the Fijian religion,
and the gods are described as delighting in human flesh.[#]
Such ideas are explicit among Indian tribes of the American
lakes, who consider that offerings, whether abandoned or
consumed by the worshippers, go in a spiritual form to the
// File: 398.png
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spirit they are devoted to. Native legends afford the
clearest illustrations. The following is a passage from an
Ottawa tale which recounts the adventures of Wassamo, he
who was conveyed by the spirit-maiden to the lodge of her
father, the Spirit of the Sand Downs, down below the
waters of Lake Superior. ‘Son-in-law,’ said the Old
Spirit, ‘I am in want of tobacco. You shall return to visit
your parents, and can make known my wishes. For it is
very seldom that those few who pass these Sand Hills, offer
a piece of tobacco. When they do it, it immediately comes
to me. Just so,’ he added, putting his hand out of the
side of the lodge, and drawing in several pieces of tobacco,
which some one at that moment happened to offer to the
Spirit, for a smooth lake and prosperous voyage. ‘You
see,’ he said, ‘every thing offered me on earth, comes
immediately to the side of my lodge.’ Wassamo saw the
women also putting their hands to the side of the lodge,
and then handing round something, of which all partook.
This he found to be offerings of food made by mortals on
earth. The distinctly spiritual nature of this transmission
is shown immediately after, for Wassamo cannot eat such
mere spirit-food, wherefore his spirit-wife puts out her
hand from the lodge and takes in a material fish out of the
lake to cook for him.[#] Another Ottawa legend, the already
cited nature-myth of the Sun and Moon, is of much interest
not only for its display of this special thought, but as showing
clearly the motives with which savage animists offer
sacrifices to their deities, and consider these deities to
accept them. Onowuttokwutto, the Ojibwa youth who has
followed the Moon up to the lovely heaven-prairies to be
her husband, is taken one day by her brother the Sun to
see how he gets his dinner. The two look down together
through the hole in the sky upon the earth below, the Sun
points out a group of children playing beside a lodge, at
the same time throwing a tiny stone to hit a beautiful boy.
The child falls, they see him carried into the lodge, they
// File: 399.png
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hear the sound of the sheesheegwun (the rattle), and the
song and prayer of the medicine-man that the child’s life
may be spared. To this entreaty of the medicine-man, the
Sun makes answer, ‘Send me up the white dog.’ Then
the two spectators above could distinguish on the earth the
hurry and bustle of preparation for a feast, a white dog
killed and singed, and the people who were called assembling
at the lodge. While these things were passing, the Sun
addressed himself to Onowuttokwutto, saying, ‘There are
among you in the lower world some whom you call great
medicine-men; but it is because their ears are open, and
they hear my voice, when I have struck any one, that they
are able to give relief to the sick. They direct the people
to send me whatever I call for and when they have sent it,
I remove my hand from those I had made sick.’ When
he had said this, the white dog was parcelled out in dishes
for those that were at the feast; then the medicine-man
when they were about to begin to eat, said, ‘We send thee
this, Great Manito.’ Immediately the Sun and his Ojibwa
companion saw the dog, cooked and ready to be eaten,
rising to them through the air—and then and there they
dined upon it.[#] How such ideas bear on the meaning of
human sacrifice, we may perhaps judge from this prayer of
the Iroquois, offering a human victim to the War-god: ‘To
thee, O Spirit Arieskoi, we slay this sacrifice, that thou
mayst feed upon the flesh, and be moved to give us henceforth
luck and victory over our enemies!’[#] So among the
Aztec prayers, there occurs this one addressed to Tezcatlipoca-Yautl
in time of war: ‘Lord of battles; it is a very
certain and sure thing, that a great war is beginning to
make, ordain, form, and concert itself; the War-god opens
his mouth, hungry to swallow the blood of many who shall
die in this war; it seems that the Sun and the Earth-God
Tlatecutli desire to rejoice; they desire to give meat and
drink to the gods of Heaven and Hades, making them a
// File: 400.png
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banquet of the flesh and blood of the men who are to die
in this war,’ &c.[#] There is remarkable definiteness in the
Peruvian idea that the souls of human victims are transmitted
to another life in divine as in funeral sacrifice; at
one great ceremony, where children of each tribe were sacrificed
to propitiate the gods, ‘they strangled the children,
first giving them to eat and drink, that they might not enter
the presence of the Creator discontented and hungry.’[#]
Similar ideas of spiritual sacrifice appear in other regions of
the world. Thus in West Africa we read of the tree-fetish
enjoying the spirit of the food-offering, but leaving its substance,
and an account of the religion of the Gold Coast
mentions how each great wong or deity has his house, and
his priest and priestess to clean the room and give him
daily bread kneaded with palm-oil, ‘of which, as of all gifts
of this kind, the wong eats the invisible soul.’[#] So, in
India, the Limbus of Darjeeling make small offerings of
grain, vegetables, and sugar-cane, and sacrifice cows, pigs,
fowls, &c., on the declared principle ‘the life breath to the
gods, the flesh to ourselves.’[#] It seems likely that such
meaning may largely explain the sacrificial practices of
other religions. In conjunction with these accounts, the
unequivocal meaning of funeral sacrifices, whereby offerings
are conveyed spiritually into the possession of spirits of the
dead, may perhaps justify us in inferring that similar ideas
of spiritual transmission prevail extensively among the
many nations whose sacrificial rites we know in fact, but
cannot trace with certainty to their original significance.

Having thus examined the manner in which the operation
of sacrifice is considered to take physical effect, whether
indefinitely or definitely, and having distinguished its actual
transmission as either substantial, essential, or spiritual,
// File: 401.png
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let us now follow the question of the sacrificer’s motive in
presenting the sacrifice. Important and complex as this
problem is, its key is so obvious that it may be almost
throughout treated by mere statement of general principle.
If the main proposition of animistic natural religion be
granted, that the idea of the human soul is the model of
the idea of deity, then the analogy of man’s dealings with
man ought, <i>inter alia</i>, to explain his motives in sacrifice.
It does so, and very fully. The proposition may be maintained
in wide generality, that the common man’s present
to the great man, to gain good or avert evil, to ask aid or to
condone offence, needs only substitution of deity for chief,
and proper adaptation of the means of conveying the gift
to him, to produce a logical doctrine of sacrificial rites,
in great measure explaining their purpose directly as they
stand, and elsewhere suggesting what was the original
meaning which has passed into changed shape in the course
of ages. Instead of offering a special collection of evidence
here on this proposition, it may be enough to ask attentive
reference to any extensive general collection of accounts of
sacrifice, such for instance as those cited for various purposes
in these volumes. It will be noticed that offerings to
divinities may be classed in the same way as earthly gifts.
The occasional gift made to meet some present emergency,
the periodical tribute brought by subject to lord, the royalty
paid to secure possession or protection of acquired wealth,
all these have their evident and well-marked analogues
in the sacrificial systems of the world. It may impress
some minds with a stronger sense of the sufficiency of this
theory of sacrifice, to consider how the transition is made
in the same imperceptible way from the idea of substantial
value received, to that of ceremonial homage rendered,
whether the recipient be man or god. We do not find it
easy to analyse the impression which a gift makes on our
own feelings, and to separate the actual value of the object
from the sense of gratification in the giver’s good-will or
respect, and thus we may well scruple to define closely how
// File: 402.png
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uncultured men work out this very same distinction in their
dealings with their deities. In a general way it may be
held that the idea of practical acceptableness of the food or
valuables presented to the deity, begins early to shade into
the sentiment of divine gratification or propitiation by a
reverent offering, though in itself of not much account to
so mighty a divine personage. These two stages of the
sacrificial idea may be fairly contrasted, the one among the
Karens who offer to a demon arrack or grain or a portion
of the game they kill, considering invocation of no avail
without a gift,[#] the other among the negroes of Sierra
Leone, who sacrifice an ox ‘to make God glad very much,
and do Kroomen good.’[#]

Hopeless as it may be in hundreds of accounts of sacrifice
to guess whether the worshipper means to benefit or merely
to gratify the deity, there are also numbers of cases in which
the thought in the sacrificer’s mind can scarcely be more
than an idea of ceremonial homage. One of the best-marked
sacrificial rites of the world is that of offering by
fire or otherwise morsels or libations at meals. This ranges
from the religion of the North American Indian to that of
the classic Greek and the ancient Chinese, and still holds
its place in peasant custom in Europe.[#] Other groups of
cases pass into yet more absolute formality of reverence.
See the Guinea negro passing in silence by the sacred tree
or cavern, and dropping a leaf or a sea-shell as an offering
to the local spirit;[#] the Talein of Burma holding up the
dish at his meal to offer it to the nat, before the company
fall to;[#] the Hindu holding up a little of his rice in his
fingers to the height of his forehead, and offering it in
// File: 403.png
.pn +1
thought to Siva or Vishnu before he eats it.[#] The same
argument applies to the cases ranging far and wide through
religion, where, whatever may have been the original intent
of the sacrifice, it has practically passed into a feast. A
banquet where the deity has but the pretence and the worshippers
the reality, may seem to us a mere mockery of
sacrifice. Yet how sincerely men regard it as a religious
ceremony, the following anecdote of a North American
Indian tribe will show. A travelling party of Potawatomis,
for three days finding no game, were in great distress for
want of food. On the third night, a chief, named Saugana,
had a dream, wherein a person appearing to him showed
him that they were suffering because they had set out without
a sacrificial feast. He had started, on this important
journey, the dreamer said, ‘as a white man would,’ without
making any religious preparation. Therefore the Great
Spirit had punished them with scarcity. Now, however,
twelve men were to go and kill four deer before the sun was
thus high (about nine o’clock). The chief in his dream had
seen these four deer lying dead, the hunters duly killed
them, and the sacrificial feast was held.[#] Further illustrative
examples of such sacred banquets may be chosen
through the long range of culture. The Zulus propitiate
the Heaven-god above with a sacrifice of black cattle,
that they may have rain; the village chiefs select the
oxen, one is killed, the rest are merely mentioned; the
flesh of the slaughtered ox is eaten in the house in perfect
silence, a token of humble submission; the bones are burnt
outside the village; and after the feast they chant in
musical sounds, a song without words.[#] The Serwatty
Islanders sacrifice buffaloes, pigs, goats, and fowls to the
idols when an individual or the community undertakes an
affair or expedition of importance, and as the carcases are
devoured by the devotees, this ensures a respectable
// File: 404.png
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attendance when the offerings are numerous.[#] Thus among
rude tribes of Northern India, sacrifices of beasts are
accompanied by libations of fermented liquor, and in fact
sacrifice and feast are convertible words.[#] Among the
Aztecs, prisoners of war furnished first an acceptable sacrifice
to the deity, and then the staple of a feast for the
captors and their friends;[#] while in ancient Peru whole
flocks of sacrificed llamas were eaten by the people.[#] The
history of Greek religion plainly records the transition
from the early holocausts devoted by fire to the gods, to
the great festivals where the sacrifices provided meat for
the public banquets held to honour them in ceremonial
homage.[#]

Beside this development from gift to homage, there
arises also a doctrine that the gist of sacrifice is rather in
the worshipper giving something precious to himself, than
in the deity receiving benefit. This may be called the
abnegation-theory, and its origin may be fairly explained
by considering it as derived from the original gift-theory.
Taking our own feelings again for a guide, we know how it
satisfies us to have done our part in giving, even if the gift
be ineffectual, and how we scruple to take it back if not
received, but rather get rid of it in some other way—it is
corban. Thus we may enter into the feelings of the
Assinaboin Indians, who considered that the blankets
and pieces of cloth and brass kettles and such valuables
abandoned in the woods as a medicine-sacrifice, might be
carried off by any friendly party who chanced to discover
them;[#] or of the Ava Buddhists bringing to the temples
offerings of boiled rice and sweetmeats and coco-nut fried
// File: 405.png
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in oil, and never attempting to disturb the crows and wild
dogs who devoured it before their eyes;[#] of the modern
Moslems sacrificing sheep, oxen, and camels in the valley
of Muna on their return from Mekka, it being a meritorious
act to give away a victim without eating any of it, while
parties of Takruri watch around like vultures, ready to
pounce upon the carcases.[#] If the offering to the deity be
continued in ceremonial survival, in spite of a growing
conviction that after all the deity does not need and cannot
profit by it, sacrifice will be thus kept up in spite of having
become practically unreasonable, and the worshipper may
still continue to measure its efficacy by what it costs him.
But to take this abnegation theory as representing the
primitive intention of sacrifice would be, I think, to turn
history upside down. The mere fact of sacrifices to deities,
from the lowest to the highest levels of culture, consisting
to the extent of nine-tenths or more of gifts of food and
sacred banquets, tells forcibly against the originality of the
abnegation-theory. If the primary motive had been to give
up valuable property, we should find the sacrifice of weapons,
garments, ornaments, as prevalent in the lower culture as in
fact it is unusual. Looking at the subject in a general view,
to suppose men to have started by devoting to their deities
what they considered practically useless to them, in order
that they themselves might suffer a loss which none is to
gain, is to undervalue the practical sense of savages, who
are indeed apt to keep up old rites after their meaning has
fallen away, but seldom introduce new ones without a
rational motive. In studying the religion of the lower
races, men are found dealing with their gods in as practical
and straightforward a way as with their neighbours, and
where plain original purpose is found, it may well be accepted
as sufficient explanation. Of the way in which gift
can pass into abnegation, an instructive example is forthcoming
// File: 406.png
.pn +1
in Buddhism. It is held that sinful men are liable
to be re-born in course of transmigration as wandering,
burning, miserable demons (preta). Now these demons
may receive offerings of food and drink from their relatives,
who can further benefit them by acts of merit done in their
name, as giving food to priests, unless the wretched spirits
be so low in merit that this cannot profit them. Yet even
in this case it is held that though the act does not benefit
the spirit whom it is directed to, it does benefit the person
who performs it.[#] Unequivocal examples of abnegation in
sacrifice may be best found among those offerings of which
the value to the offerer utterly exceeds the value they can
be supposed to have to the deity. The most striking of
these found among nations somewhat advanced in general
culture, appear in the history of human sacrifice among
Semitic nations. The king of Moab, when the battle was too
sore for him, offered up his eldest son for a burnt-offering
on the wall. The Phœnicians sacrificed the dearest children
to propitiate the angry gods, they enhanced their value by
choosing them of noble families, and there was not wanting
among them even the utmost proof that the efficacy of the
sacrifice lay in the sacrificer’s grievous loss, for they must
have for yearly sacrifice only-begotten sons of their parents
(<lang=grc>Κρόνῳ γαρ Φοίνικες καθ’ ἕκαστον ἔτος ἔθυον τὰ ἀγαπητὰ καὶ
μονογενῆ τῶν τέκνων</lang>). Heliogabalus brought the hideous
Oriental rite into Italy, choosing for victims to his solar
divinity high-born lads throughout the land. Of all such
cases, the breaking of the sacred law of hospitality by
sacrificing the guest to Jupiter hospitalis, <lang=grc>Ζεὺς ξένιος</lang>, shows
in the strongest light in Semitic regions how the value to
the offerer might become the measure of acceptableness to
the god.[#] In such ways, slightly within the range of the
lower culture, but strongly in the religion of the higher
// File: 407.png
.pn +1
nations, the transition from the gift-theory to the abnegation
theory seems to have come about. Our language displays
it in a word, if we do but compare the sense of presentation
and acceptance which ‘sacrificium’ had in a Roman temple,
with the sense of mere giving up and loss which ‘sacrifice’
conveys in an English market.

Through the history of sacrifice, it has occurred to many
nations that cost may be economized without impairing efficiency.
The result is seen in ingenious devices to lighten
the burden on the worshipper by substituting something
less valuable than what he ought to offer, or pretends to.
Even in such a matter as this, the innate correspondence
in the minds of men is enough to produce in distant and
independent races so much uniformity of development, that
three or four headings will serve to class the chief divisions
of sacrificial substitution among mankind.

To give part for the whole is a proceeding so closely conformed
to ordinary tribute by subject to lord, that in great
measure it comes directly under the gift-theory, and as such
has already had its examples here. It is only when the
part given to the gods is of contemptible value in proportion
to the whole, that full sacrifice passes gradually into
substitution. This is the case when in Madagascar the
head of the sacrificed beast is set up on a pole, and the
blood and fat are rubbed on the stones of the altar, but the
sacrificers and their friends and the officiating priest devour
the whole carcase;[#] when rich Guinea negroes sacrifice a
sheep or goat to the fetish, and feast on it with their friends,
only leaving for the deity himself part of the entrails;[#]
when Tunguz, sacrificing cattle, would give a bit of liver
and fat and perhaps hang up the hide in the woods as the
god’s share, or Mongols would set the heart of the beast
before the idol till next day.[#] Thus the most ancient whole
// File: 408.png
.pn +1
burnt-offering of the Greeks dwindled to burning for the
gods only the bones and fat of the slaughtered ox, while the
worshippers feasted themselves on the meat, an economic
rite which takes mythic shape in the legend of the sly
Prometheus giving Zeus the choice of the two parts of the
sacrificed ox he had divided for gods and mortals, on the
one side bones covered seemly with white fat, on the other
the joints hidden under repulsive hide and entrails.[#] With
a different motive, not that of parsimony, but of keeping
up in survival an ancient custom, the Zarathustrian religion
performed by substitution the old Aryan sacrifice by fire.
The Vedic sacrifice Agnishtoma required that animals should
be slain, and their flesh partly committed to the gods by
fire, partly eaten by sacrificers and priests. The Parsi
ceremony Izeshne, formal successor of this bloody rite,
requires no animal to be killed, but it suffices to place the
hair of an ox in a vessel, and show it to the fire.[#]

The offering of a part of the worshipper’s own body is a
most usual act, whether its intention is simply that of gift
or tribute, or whether it is considered as a <i>pars pro toto</i>
representing the whole man, either in danger and requiring
to be ransomed, or destined to actual sacrifice for another
and requiring to be redeemed. How a finger-joint may thus
represent a whole body, is perfectly shown in the funeral
sacrifices of the Nicobar islanders; they bury the dead
man’s property with him, and his wife has a finger-joint cut
off (obviously a substitute for herself), and if she refuses
even this, a deep notch is cut in a pillar of the house.[#] We
are now concerned, however, with the finger-offering, not
as a sacrifice to the dead, but as addressed to other deities.
This idea is apparently worked out in the Tongan custom
of tutu-nima, the chopping off a portion of the little finger
with a hatchet or sharp stone as a sacrifice to the gods, for
the recovery of a sick relation of higher rank; Mariner saw
// File: 409.png
.pn +1
children of five years old quarrelling for the honour of
having it done to them.[#] In the Mandan ceremonies of
initiation into manhood, when the youth at last hung senseless
and (as they called it) lifeless by the cords made fast to
splints through his flesh, he was let down, and coming to
himself crawled on hands and feet round the medicine-lodge
to where an old Indian sat with hatchet in his hand and
a buffalo skull before him; then the youth, holding up the
little finger of his left hand to the Great Spirit, offered it as
a sacrifice, and it was chopped off, and sometimes the fore-finger
afterwards, upon the skull.[#] In India, probably as a
Dravidian rather than Aryan rite, the practice with full
meaning comes into view; as Siva cut off his finger to
appease the wrath of Kali, so in the southern provinces
mothers will cut off their own fingers as sacrifices lest they
lose their children, and one hears of a golden finger being
allowed instead, the substitute of a substitute.[#] The New
Zealanders hang locks of hair on branches of trees in the
burying-ground, a recognised place for offerings.[#] That
hair may be a substitute for its owner is well shown in
Malabar, where we read of the demon being expelled from
the possessed patient and flogged by the exorcist to a tree;
there the sick man’s hair is nailed fast, cut away, and left
for a propitiation to the demon.[#] Thus there is some ground
for interpreting the consecration of the boy’s cut hair in
Europe as a representative sacrifice.[#] As for the formal
shedding of blood, it may represent fatal bloodshed, as when
// File: 410.png
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the Jagas or priests in Quilombo only marked with spears
the children brought in, instead of running them through;[#]
or when in Greece a few drops of human blood had come to
stand instead of the earlier and more barbaric human sacrifice;[#]
or when in our own time and under our own rule a
Vishnuite who has inadvertently killed a monkey, a garuda,
or a cobra, may expiate his offence by a mock sacrifice, in
which a human victim is wounded in the thigh, pretends to
die, and goes through the farce of resuscitation, his drawn
blood serving as substitute for his life.[#] One of the most
noteworthy cases of the survival of such formal bloodshed
within modern memory in Europe must be classed as not
Aryan but Turanian, belonging as it does to the folklore of
Esthonia. The sacrificer had to draw drops of blood from
his forefinger, and therewith to pray this prayer, which was
taken down verbatim from one who remembered it:—‘I
name thee with my blood and betroth thee with my blood,
and point thee out my buildings to be blessed, stables and
cattle-pens and hen-roosts; let them be blessed through my
blood and thy might!’ ‘Be my joy, thou Almighty, upholder
of my forefathers, my protector and guardian of my
life! I beseech thee by strength of flesh and blood; receive
the food that I bring thee to thy sustenance and the joy of
my body; keep me as thy good child, and I will thank and
praise thee. By the help of the Almighty, my own God,
hearken to me! What through negligence I have done
imperfectly toward thee, do thou forget! But keep it truly
in remembrance, that I have honestly paid my gifts to my
parents’ honour and joy and requital. Moreover falling
down I thrice kiss the earth. Be with me quick in doing,
and peace be with thee hitherto!’[#] These various rites
of finger-cutting, hair-cutting, and blood-letting, have required
mention here from the special point of view of their
// File: 411.png
.pn +1
connexion with sacrifice. They belong to an extensive
series of practices, due to various and often obscure motives,
which come under the general heading of ceremonial mutilations.

When a life is given for a life, it is still possible to offer a
life less valued than the life in danger. When in Peru the
Inca or some great lord fell sick, he would offer to the deity
one of his sons, imploring him to take this victim in his
stead.[#] The Greeks found it sufficient to offer to the gods
criminals or captives;[#] and the like was the practice of the
heathen tribes of northern Europe, to whom indeed Christian
dealers were accused of selling slaves for sacrificial purposes.[#]
Among such accounts, the typical story belongs to Punic
history. The Carthaginians, overcome and hard pressed
in the war with Agathokles, set down the defeat to divine
wrath. Now Kronos had in former times received his
sacrifice of the chosen of their sons, but of late they had
put him off with children bought and nourished for the
purpose. In fact they had obeyed the sacrificer’s natural
tendency to substitution, but now in time of misfortune
the reaction set in. To balance the account and condone
the parsimonious fraud, a monstrous sacrifice was celebrated.
Two hundred children, of the noblest of the land, were
brought to the idol. ‘For there was among them a brazen
statue of Kronos, holding out his hands sloping downward,
so that the child placed on them rolled off and fell into
a certain chasm full of fire.’[#] The Phœnician god here
called Kronos is commonly though not certainly identified
with Moloch. Next, it will help us to realize how the
sacrifice of an animal may atone for a human life, if we
notice in South Africa how a Zulu will redeem a lost child
from the finder by a bullock, or a Kimbunda will expiate
the blood of a slave by the offering of an ox, whose blood
// File: 412.png
.pn +1
will wash away the other.[#] For instances of the animal
substituted for man in sacrifice the following may serve.
Among the Khonds of Orissa, when Colonel Macpherson
was engaged in putting down the sacrifice of human victims
by the sect of the Earth-goddess, they at once began to
discuss the plan of sacrificing cattle by way of substitutes.
Now there is some reason to think that this same course
of ceremonial change may account for the following sacrificial
practice in the other Khond sect. It appears that
those who worship the Light-god hold a festival in his
honour, when they slaughter a buffalo in commemoration
of the time when, as they say, the Earth-goddess was prevailing
on men to offer human sacrifices to her, but the
Light-god sent a tribe-deity who crushed the bloody-minded
Earth-goddess under a mountain, and dragged a
buffalo out of the jungle, saying, ‘Liberate the man, and
sacrifice the buffalo!’[#] This legend, divested of its mythic
garb, may really record a historical substitution of animal
for human sacrifice. In Ceylon, the exorcist will demand
the name of the demon possessing a demoniac, and the
patient in frenzy answers, giving the demon’s name, ‘I am
So-and-so, I demand a human sacrifice and will not go out
without!’ The victim is promised, the patient comes to
from the fit, and a few weeks later the sacrifice is made,
but instead of a man they offer a fowl.[#] Classic examples
of substitution of this sort may be found in the sacrifice of
a doe for a virgin to Artemis in Laodicæa, a goat for a boy
to Dionysos at Potniæ. There appears to be Semitic connexion
here, as there clearly is in the story of the Æolians
of Tenedos sacrificing to Melikertes (Melkarth) instead of a
new-born child a new-born calf, shoeing it with buskins
and tending the mother-cow as if a human mother.[#]

One step more in the course of substitution leads the
// File: 413.png
.pn +1
worshipper to make his sacrifice by effigy. An instructive
example of the way in which this kind of substitution arises
may be found in the rites of ancient Mexico. At the yearly
festival of the water-gods and mountain-gods, certain actual
sacrifices of human victims took place in the temples. At
the same time, in the houses of the people, there was
celebrated an unequivocal but harmless imitation of this
bloody rite. They made paste images, adored them, and
in due pretence of sacrifice cut them open at the breast,
took out their hearts, cut off their heads, divided and devoured
their limbs.[#] In the classic religions of Greece
and Rome, the desire to keep up the consecrated rites
of ages more barbaric, more bloodthirsty, or more profuse,
worked itself out in many a compromise of this class,
such as the brazen statues offered for human victims, the
cakes of dough or wax in the figure of the beasts for which
they were presented as symbolic substitutes.[#] Not for
economy, but to avoid taking life, Brahmanic sacrifice
has been known to be brought down to offering models
of the victim-animals in meal and butter.[#] The modern
Chinese, whose satisfaction in this kind of make-believe
is so well shown by their despatching paper figures
to serve as attendants for the dead, work out in the
same fanciful way the idea of the sacrificial effigy, in
propitiating the presiding deity of the year for the cure of
a sick man. The rude figure of a man is drawn on or cut
out of a piece of paper, pasted on a slip of bamboo, and
stuck upright in a packet of mock-money. With proper
exorcism, this representative is carried out into the street
with the disease, the priest squirts water from his
mouth over patient, image, and mock-money, the two
latter are burnt, and the company eat up the little feast
// File: 414.png
.pn +1
laid out for the year-deity.[#] There is curious historical
significance in the custom at the inundation of the Nile at
Cairo, of setting up a conical pillar of earth which the flood
washes away as it rises. This is called the arûseh or bride,
and appears to be a substitute introduced under humaner
Moslem influence, for the young virgin in gay apparel who
in older time was thrown into the river, a sacrifice to obtain
a plentiful inundation.[#] Again, the patient’s offering the
model of his diseased limb is distinctly of the nature of a
sacrifice, whether it be propitiatory offering before cure, or
thank-offering after. On the one hand, the ex-voto models
of arms and ears dedicated in ancient Egyptian temples are
thought to be grateful memorials,[#] as seems to have been
the case with metal models of faces, breasts, hands, &c., in
Bœotian temples.[#] On the other hand, there are cases
where the model and, as it were, substitute of the diseased
part is given to obtain a cure; thus in early Christian
times in Germany protest was made against the heathen
custom of hanging up carved wooden limbs to a helpful idol
for relief,[#] and in modern India the pilgrim coming for cure
will deposit in the temple the image of his diseased limb,
in gold or silver or copper according to his means.[#]

If now we look for the sacrificial idea within the range
of modern Christendom, we shall find it in two ways not obscurely
manifest. It survives in traditional folklore, and it
holds a place in established religion. One of its most remarkable
survivals may be seen in Bulgaria, where sacrifice
of live victims is to this day one of the accepted rites of the
land. They sacrifice a lamb on <abbr=Saint>St.</abbr> George’s day, telling to account
for the custom a legend which combines the episodes of
the offering of Isaac and the miracle of the Three Children.
// File: 415.png
.pn +1
On the feast of the Panagia (Virgin Mary) sacrifices of
lambs, kids, honey, wine, &c., are offered in order that the
children of the house may enjoy good health throughout the
year. A little child divines by touching one of three saints’
candles to which the offering is to be dedicated; when the
choice is thus made, the bystanders each drink a cup of
wine, saying ‘Saint So-and-So, to thee is the offering.’
Then they cut the throat of the lamb, or smother the bees,
and in the evening the whole village assembles to eat the
various sacrifices, and the men end the ceremony with the
usual drunken bout.[#] Within the borders of Russia, many
and various sacrifices are still offered; such is the horse with
head smeared with honey and mane decked with ribbons, cast
into the river with two millstones to its neck to appease the
water-spirit, the Vodyany, at his spiteful flood-time in early
spring; and such is the portion of supper left out for the
house-demon, the domovoy, who if not thus fed is apt to
turn spirit-rapper, and knock the tables and benches about
at night.[#] In many another district of Europe, the tenacious
memory of the tiller of the soil has kept up in wondrous
perfection heirlooms from præ-Christian faiths. In Franconia,
people will pour on the ground a libation before
drinking; entering a forest they will put offerings of bread
and fruit on a stone, to avert the attacks of the demon of
the woods, the ‘bilberry-man;’ the bakers will throw
white rolls into the oven flue for luck, and say, ‘Here,
devil, they are thine!’ The Carinthian peasant will fodder
the wind by setting up a dish of food in a tree before his
house, and the fire by casting in lard and dripping, in order
that gale and conflagration may not hurt him. At least up
to the end of the <abbr=eighteenth>18th</abbr> century this most direct elemental
sacrifice might be seen in Germany at the midsummer
festival in the most perfect form; some of the porridge
// File: 416.png
.pn +1
from the table was thrown into the fire, and some into running
water, some was buried in the earth, and some smeared
on leaves and put on the chimney-top for the winds.[#]
Relics of such ancient sacrifice may be found in Scandinavia
to this day; to give but one example, the old country
altars, rough earth-fast stones with cup-like hollows, are still
visited by mothers whose children have been smitten with
sickness by the trolls, and who smear lard into the hollows
and leave rag-dolls as offerings.[#] France may be represented
by the country-women’s custom of beginning a meal
by throwing down a spoonful of milk or bouillon; and by
the record of the custom of Andrieux in Dauphiny, where
at the solstice the villagers went out upon the bridge when
the sun rose, and offered him an omelet.[#] The custom of
burning alive the finest calf, to save a murrain-struck herd,
had its last examples in Cornwall in the 19th century;
the records of bealtuinn sacrifices in Scotland continue in
the Highlands within a century ago; and Scotchmen still
living remember the corner of a field being left untilled for
the Goodman’s Croft (i.e., the Devil’s), but the principle of
‘cheating the devil’ was already in vogue, and the piece
of land allotted was but a worthless scrap.[#] It is a
remnant of old sacrificial rite, when the Swedes still bake
at yule-tide a cake in the shape of a boar, representing the
boar sacrificed of old to Freyr, and Oxford to this day commemorates
the same ancestral ceremony, when the boar’s
head is carried in to the Christmas feast at Queen’s College,
with its appointed carol, <lang=la>‘Caput apri defero, Reddens
laudes Domino.’</lang>[#] With a lingering recollection of the old
// File: 417.png
.pn +1
libations, the German toper’s saying still runs that heeltaps
are a devil’s offering.[#]

As for sacrificial rites most fully and officially existing in
modern Christendom, the presentation of ex-votos is one.
The ecclesiastical opposition to the continuance of these
classic thank-offerings was but temporary and partial. In
the 5th century it seems to have been usual to offer silver
and gold eyes, feet, &c., to saints in acknowledgment of
cures they had effected. At the beginning of the <abbr=sixteenth>16th</abbr>
century, Polydore Vergil, describing the classic custom,
goes on to say: ‘In the same manner do we now offer up
in our churches sigillaria, that is, little images of wax, and
oscilla. As oft as any part of the body is hurt, as the hand,
foot, breast, we presently make a vow to God, and his
saints, to whom upon our recovery we make an offering of
that hand or foot or breast shaped in wax, which custom
has so far obtained that this kind of images have passed to
the other animals. Wherefore so for an ox, so for a horse,
so for a sheep, we place puppets in the temples. In which
thing any modestly scrupulous person may perhaps say he
knows not whether we are rivalling the religion or the
superstition of the ancients.’[#] In modern Europe the
custom prevails largely, but has perhaps somewhat subsided
into low levels of society, to judge by the general use of
mock silver and such-like worthless materials for the dedicated
effigies. In Christian as in præ-Christian temples,
clouds of incense rise as of old. Above all, though the
ceremony of sacrifice did not form an original part of
Christian worship, its prominent place in the ritual was
obtained in early centuries. In that Christianity was recruited
among nations to whom the conception of sacrifice
was among the deepest of religious ideas, and the ceremony
of sacrifice among the sincerest efforts of worship, there
arose an observance suited to supply the vacant place.
// File: 418.png
.pn +1
This result was obtained not by new introduction, but by
transmutation. The solemn eucharistic meal of the primitive
Christians in time assumed the name of the sacrifice
of the mass, and was adapted to a ceremonial in which an
offering of food and drink is set out by a priest on an altar
in a temple, and consumed by priest and worshippers. The
natural conclusion of an ethnographic survey of sacrifice,
is to point to the controversy between Protestants and
Catholics, for centuries past one of the keenest which
have divided the Christian world, on this express question
whether sacrifice is or is not a Christian rite.

The next group of rites to be considered comprises
Fasting and certain other means of producing ecstasy and
other morbid exaltation for religious ends. In the foregoing
researches on animism, it is frequently observed or
implied that the religious beliefs of the lower races are in
no small measure based on the evidence of visions and
dreams, regarded as actual intercourse with spiritual beings.
From the earliest phases of culture upward, we find religion
in close alliance with ecstatic physical conditions. These
are brought on by various means of interference with the
healthy action of body and mind, and it is scarcely needful
to remind the reader that, according to philosophic theories
antecedent to those of modern medicine, such morbid disturbances
are explained as symptoms of divine visitation,
or at least of superhuman spirituality. Among the strongest
means of disturbing the functions of the mind so as to
produce ecstatic vision, is fasting, accompanied as it
so usually is with other privations, and with prolonged
solitary contemplation in the desert or the forest. Among
the ordinary vicissitudes of savage life, the wild hunter has
many a time to try involuntarily the effects of such a life
for days and weeks together, and under these circumstances
he soon comes to see and talk with phantoms which are to
him visible personal spirits. The secret of spiritual intercourse
thus learnt, he has thenceforth but to reproduce the
cause in order to renew the effects.
// File: 419.png
.pn +1

The rite of fasting, and the utter objective reality ascribed
to what we call its morbid symptoms, are shown in striking
details among the savage tribes of North America. Among
the Indians (the accounts mostly refer to the Algonquin
tribes), long and rigorous fasting is enjoined among boys
and girls from a very early age; to be able to fast long is
an enviable distinction, and they will abstain from food
three to seven days, or even more, taking only a little
water. During these fasts, especial attention is paid to
dreams. Thus Tanner tells the story of a certain Net-no-kwa,
who at twelve years old fasted ten successive days,
till in a dream a man came and stood before her, and after
speaking of many things gave her two sticks, saying, ‘I
give you these to walk upon, and your hair I give it to be
like snow;’ this assurance of extreme old age was through
life a support to her in times of danger and distress. At
manhood the Indian lad, retiring to a solitary place to fast
and meditate and pray, receives visionary impressions
which stamp his character for life, and especially he waits
till there appears to him in a dream some animal or thing
which will be henceforth his ‘medicine,’ the fetish-representative
of his manitu or protecting genius. For instance,
an aged warrior who had thus in his youth dreamed of a
bat coming to him, wore the skin of a bat on the crown of
his head henceforth, and was all his life invulnerable to his
enemies as a bat on the wing. In after life, an Indian who
wants anything will fast till he has a dream that his manitu
will grant it him. While the men are away hunting, the
children are sometimes made to fast, that in their dreams
they may obtain omens of the chase. Hunters fasting
before an expedition are informed in dreams of the haunts
of the game, and the means of appeasing the wrath of the
bad spirits; if the dreamer fancies he sees an Indian who
has been long dead, and hears him say, ‘If thou wilt
sacrifice to me thou shalt shoot deer at pleasure,’ he will
prepare a sacrifice, and burn the whole or part of a deer,
in honour of the apparition. Especially the ‘meda’ or
// File: 420.png
.pn +1
‘medicine-man’ receives in fasts much of his qualification
for his sacred office. The Ojibwa prophetess, known
in after life as Catherine Wabose, in telling the story of
her early years, relates how at the age of womanhood she
fasted in her secluded lodge till she went up into the
heavens and saw the spirit at the entrance, the Bright Blue
Sky; this was the first supernatural communication of her
prophetic career. The account given to Schoolcraft by
Chingwauk, an Algonquin chief deeply versed in the mystic
lore and picture-writing of his people, is as follows:
‘Chingwauk began by saying that the ancient Indians
made a great merit of fasting. They fasted sometimes
six or seven days, till both their bodies and minds became
free and light, which prepared them to dream. The object
of the ancient seers was to dream of the sun, as it was
believed that such a dream would enable them to see everything
on the earth. And by fasting long and thinking
much on the subject, they generally succeeded. Fasts
and dreams were at first attempted at an early age. What
a young man sees and experiences during these dreams and
fasts, is adopted by him as truth, and it becomes a principle
to regulate his future life. He relies for success on
these revelations. If he has been much favoured in his
fasts, and the people believe that he has the art of looking
into futurity, the path is open to the highest honours.
The prophet, he continued, begins to try his power in
secret, with only one assistant, whose testimony is necessary
should he succeed. As he goes on, he puts down
the figures of his dreams and revelations, by symbols,
on bark or other material, till a whole winter is sometimes
passed in pursuing the subject, and he thus has
a record of his principal revelations. If what he predicts
is verified, the assistant mentions it, and the record
is then appealed to as proof of his prophetic power and
skill. Time increases his fame. His <i>kee-keé-wins</i>, or
records, are finally shown to the old people, who meet
together and consult upon them, for the whole nation
// File: 421.png
.pn +1
believe in these revelations. They in the end give their
approval, and declare that he is gifted as a prophet—is
inspired with wisdom, and is fit to lead the opinions of the
nation. Such, he concluded, was the ancient custom, and
the celebrated old war-captains rose to their power in this
manner.’ It remains to say that among these American
tribes, the ‘jossakeed’ or soothsayer prepares himself by
fasting and the use of the sweating-bath for the state of
convulsive ecstasy in which he utters the dictates of his
familiar spirits.[#]

The practice of fasting is described in other districts of
the uncultured world as carried on to produce similar
ecstasy and supernatural converse. The account by Roman
Pane in the Life of Colon describes the practice in Hayti
of fasting to obtain knowledge of future events from the
spirits (cemi); and a century or two later, rigorous fasting
formed part of the apprentice’s preparation for the craft of
‘boyé’ or sorcerer, evoker, consulter, propitiator, and
exorciser of spirits.[#] The ‘keebèt’ or conjurers of the
Abipones were believed by the natives to be able to inflict
disease and death, cure all disorders, make known distant
and future events, cause rain, hail, and tempests, call up
the shades of the dead, put on the form of tigers, handle
serpents unharmed, &c. These powers were imparted by
diabolical assistance, and Father Dobrizhoffer thus describes
the manner of obtaining them:—‘Those who aspire to the
office of juggler are said to sit upon an aged willow, overhanging
some lake, and to abstain from food for several
days, till they begin to see into futurity. It always
appeared probable to me that these rogues, from long
fasting, contract a weakness of brain, a giddiness, and kind
// File: 422.png
.pn +1
of delirium, which makes them imagine that they are gifted
with superior wisdom, and give themselves out for magicians.
They impose upon themselves first, and afterwards
upon others.’[#] The Malay, to make himself invulnerable,
retires for three days to solitude and scanty food in the
jungle, and if on the third day he dreams of a beautiful
spirit descending to speak to him, the charm is worked.[#]
The Zulu doctor qualifies himself for intercourse with the
‘amadhlozi,’ or ghosts, from whom he is to obtain direction
in his craft, by spare abstemious diet, want, suffering,
castigation, and solitary wandering, till fainting fits or coma
bring him into direct intercourse with the spirits. These
native diviners fast often, and are worn out by fastings,
sometimes of several days’ duration, when they become
partially or wholly ecstatic, and see visions. So thoroughly
is the connexion between fasting and spiritual intercourse
acknowledged by the Zulus, that it has become a saying
among them, ‘The continually stuffed body cannot see
secret things.’ They have no faith in a fat prophet.[#]

The effects thus looked for and attained by fasting among
uncultured tribes continue into the midst of advanced civilization.
No wonder that, in the Hindu tale, king Vasavadatta
and his queen after a solemn penance and a three
days’ fast should see Siva in a dream and receive his gracious
tidings; no wonder that, in the actual experience of
to-day, the Hindu yogi should bring on by fasting a state
in which he can with bodily eyes behold the gods.[#] The
Greek oracle-priests recognized fasting as a means of bringing
on prophetic dreams and visions; the Pythia of Delphi
herself fasted for inspiration; Galen remarks that fasting
dreams are the clearer.[#] Through after ages, both cause
// File: 423.png
.pn +1
and consequence have held their places in Christendom.
Thus Michael the Archangel, with sword in right hand
and scales in left, appears to a certain priest of Siponte,
who during a twelvemonth’s course of prayer and fasting
had been asking if he would have a temple built in his
honour:—

.pm verse-start
              <lang=la>‘precibus jejunia longis</lang>
<lang=la>Addiderat, totoque orans se afflixerat anno.’</lang>[#]
.pm verse-end

Reading the narratives of the wondrous sights seen by
<abbr=Saint>St.</abbr> Theresa and her companions, how the saint went in
spirit into hell and saw the darkness and fire and unutterable
despair, how she had often by her side her good patrons
Peter and Paul, how when she was raised in rapture above
the grate at the nunnery where she was to take the sacrament,
Sister Mary Baptist and others being present, they
saw an angel by her with a golden fiery dart at the end
whereof was a little fire, and he thrust it through her heart
and bowels and pulled them out with it, leaving her wholly
inflamed with a great love of God—the modern reader
naturally looks for details of physical condition and habit
of life among the sisterhood, and as naturally finds that
<abbr=Saint>St.</abbr> Theresa was of morbid constitution and subject to
trances from her childhood, in after life subduing her flesh
by long watchings and religious discipline, and keeping
severe fast during eight months of the year.[#] It is needless
to multiply such mediæval records of fasts which have produced
their natural effects in beatific vision—are they not
written page after page in the huge folios of the Bollandists?
So long as fasting is continued as a religious rite, so long
its consequences in morbid mental exaltation will continue
the old and savage doctrine that morbid phantasy is supernatural
experience. Bread and meat would have robbed
the ascetic of many an angel’s visit; the opening of the
refectory door must many a time have closed the gates of
heaven to his gaze.
// File: 424.png
.pn +1

It is indeed not the complete theory of fasting as a religious
rite, but only an important and perhaps original part
of it, that here comes into view. Abstinence from food
has a principal place among acts of self-mortification or
penance, a province of religious ordinance into which the
present argument scarcely enters. Looking at the practice
of fasting here from an animistic point of view, as a process
of bringing on dreams and visions, it will be well to mention
with it certain other means by which ecstatic phenomena
are habitually induced.

One of these means is the use of drugs. In the West India
Islands at the time of the discovery, Columbus describes
the religious ceremony of placing a platter containing ‘cohoba’
powder on the head of the idol, the worshippers then
snuffing up this powder through a cane with two branches
put to the nose. Pane further describes how the native
priest, when brought to a sick man, would put himself in
communication with the spirits by thus snuffing cohoba,
‘which makes him drunk, that he knows not what he does,
and so says many extraordinary things, wherein they affirm
that they are talking with the cemis, and that from them it
is told them that the infirmity came.’ On the Amazons,
the Omaguas have continued to modern times the use of
narcotic plants, producing an intoxication lasting twenty-four
hours, during which they are subject to extraordinary
visions; from one of these plants they obtain the ‘curupa’
powder which they snuff into their nostrils with a Y-shaped
reed.[#] Here the similar names and uses of the drug plainly
show historical connexion between the Omaguas and the Antilles
islanders. The Californian Indians would give children
narcotic potions, in order to gain from the ensuing visions
information about their enemies; and thus the Mundrucus
// File: 425.png
.pn +1
of North Brazil, desiring to discover murderers, would
administer such drinks to seers, in whose dreams the
criminals appeared.[#] The Darien Indians used the seeds of
the Datura sanguinea to bring on in children prophetic
delirium, in which they revealed hidden treasure. In Peru
the priests who talked with the ‘huaca’ or fetishes used
to throw themselves into an ecstatic condition by a narcotic
drink called ‘tonca,’ made from the same plant, whence
its name of ‘huacacacha’ or fetish-herb.[#] The Mexican
priests also appear to have used an ointment or drink made
with seeds of ‘ololiuhqui,’ which produced delirium and
visions.[#] In both Americas tobacco served for such purposes.
It must be noticed that smoking is more or less
practised among native races to produce full intoxication,
the smoke being swallowed for the purpose. By smoking
tobacco, the sorcerers of Brazilian tribes raised themselves
to ecstasy in their convulsive orgies, and saw spirits; no
wonder tobacco came to be called the ‘holy herb.’[#] So
North American Indians held intoxication by tobacco to be
supernatural ecstasy, and the dreams of men in this state
to be inspired.[#] This idea may explain a remarkable proceeding
of the Delaware Indians. At their festival in
honour of the Fire-god with his twelve attendant manitus,
inside the house of sacrifice a small oven-hut was set up,
consisting of twelve poles tied together at the top and
covered with blankets, high enough for a man to stand
nearly upright within it. After the feast this oven was
heated with twelve red-hot stones, and twelve men crept
inside. An old man threw twelve pipefulls of tobacco on
these stones, and when the patients had borne to the utmost
// File: 426.png
.pn +1
the heat and suffocating smoke, they were taken out, generally
falling in a swoon.[#] This practice, which was carried
on in the last century, is remarkable for its coincidence
with the Scythian mode of purification after a funeral, as
described by Herodotus. He relates that they make their
hut with three stakes sloping together at the top and
covered in with wooden felts; then they cast red-hot stones
into a trough placed within and throw hemp-seed on them,
which sends forth fumes such as no Greek vapour-bath
could exceed, and the Scyths in their sweating-hut roar
with delight.[#]

Not to dwell on the ancient Aryan deification of an
intoxicating drink, the original of the divine Soma of the
Hindus and the divine Haoma of the Parsis, nor on the
drunken orgies of the worship of Dionysos in ancient
Greece, we find more exact Old World analogues of the
ecstatic medicaments used in the lower culture. Such are
the decoctions of thalassægle which Pliny speaks of as
drunk to produce delirium and visions; the drugs mentioned
by Hesychius, whereby Hekate was evoked; the
mediæval witch-ointments which brought visionary beings
into the presence of the patient, transported him to the
witches’ sabbath, enabled him to turn into a beast.[#] The
survival of such practices is most thorough among the
Persian dervishes of our own day. These mystics are not
only opium-eaters, like so large a proportion of their
countrymen; they are hashish-smokers, and the effect of
this drug is to bring them into a state of exaltation passing
into utter hallucination. To a patient in this condition,
says Dr. Polak, a little stone in the road will seem a great
block that he must stride over; a gutter becomes a wide
stream to his eyes, and he calls for a boat to ferry him
// File: 427.png
.pn +1
across; men’s voices sound like thunder in his ears; he
fancies he has wings and can rise from the ground. These
ecstatic effects, in which miracle is matter of hourly experience,
are considered in Persia as high religious developments;
the visionaries and their rites are looked on as holy,
and they make converts.[#]

Many details of the production of ecstasy and swoon by
bodily exercises, chanting and screaming, &c., have been
incidentally given in describing the doctrine of demoniacal
possession. I will only further cite a few typical cases to
show that the practice of bringing on swoons or fits by
religious exercises, in reality or pretence, is one belonging
originally to savagery, whence it has been continued into
higher grades of civilization. We may judge of the mental
and bodily condition of the priest or sorcerer in Guyana, by
his preparation for his sacred office. This consisted in the
first place in fasting and flagellation of extreme severity; at
the end of his fast he had to dance till he fell senseless, and
was revived by a potion of tobacco-juice causing violent
nausea and vomiting of blood; day after day this treatment
was continued till the candidate, brought into or confirmed
in the condition of a ‘convulsionary,’ was ready to pass
from patient into doctor.[#] Again, at the Winnebago medicine-feast,
members of the fraternity assemble in a long
arched booth, and with them the candidates for initiation,
whose preparation is a three days’ fast, with severe sweating
and steaming with herbs, under the direction of the old
medicine-men. The initiation is performed in the assembly
by a number of medicine-men. These advance in line, as
many abreast as there are candidates; holding their medicine-bags
before them with both hands, they dance forward
slowly at first, uttering low guttural sounds as they approach
the candidates, their step and voice increasing in energy,
until with a violent ‘Ough!’ they thrust their medicine-bags
// File: 428.png
.pn +1
at their breasts. Instantly, as if struck with an electric
shock, the candidates fall prostrate on their faces, their
limbs extended, their muscles rigid and quivering. Blankets
are now thrown over them, and they are suffered to lie thus
a few moments; as soon as they show signs of recovering
from the shock, they are assisted to their feet and led forward.
Medicine-bags are then put in their hands, and medicine-stones
in their mouths; they are now medicine men or
women, as the case may be, in full communion and fellowship;
and they now go round the bower in company with
the old members, knocking others down promiscuously by
thrusting their medicine-bags at them. A feast and dance
to the music of drum and rattle carry on the festival.[#]
Another instance may be taken from among the Alfurus of
Celebes, inviting Empong Lembej to descend into their
midst. The priests chant, the chief priest with twitching
and trembling limbs turns his eyes towards heaven; Lembej
descends into him, and with horrible gestures he springs
upon a board, beats about with a bundle of leaves, leaps
and dances, chanting legends of an ancient deity. After
some hours another priest relieves him, and sings of another
deity. So it goes on day and night till the fifth day, and
then the chief priest’s tongue is cut, he falls into a swoon
like death, and they cover him up. They fumigate with
benzoin the piece taken from his tongue, and swing a censer
over his body, calling back his soul; he revives and dances
about, lively but speechless, till they give him back the rest
of his tongue, and with it his power of speech.[#] Thus, in
the religion of uncultured races, the phenomenon of being
‘struck’ holds so recognised a position that impostors
will even counterfeit it. In its morbid nature, its genuine
cases at least plainly correspond with the fits which history
records among the convulsionnaires of <abbr=Saint>St.</abbr> Medard and the
enthusiasts of the Cevennes. Nor need we go even a generation
// File: 429.png
.pn +1
back to see symptoms of the same type accepted as
signs of grace among ourselves. Medical descriptions of
the scenes brought on by fanatical preachers at ‘revivals’
in England, Ireland, and America, are full of interest to
students of the history of religious rites. I will but quote a
single case. ‘A young woman is described as lying extended
at full length; her eyes closed, her hands clasped
and elevated, and her body curved in a spasm so violent
that it appeared to rest arch-like upon her heels and the
back portion of her head. In that position she lay without
speech or motion for several minutes. Suddenly she uttered
a terrific scream, and tore handfuls of hair from her uncovered
head. Extending her open hands in a repelling
attitude of the most appalling terror, she exclaimed, “Oh,
that fearful pit!” During this paroxysm three strong men
were hardly able to restrain her. She extended her arms
on either side, clutching spasmodically at the grass, shuddering
with terror, and shrinking from some fearful inward
vision; but she ultimately fell back exhausted, nerveless,
and apparently insensible.’[#] Such descriptions carry us
far back in the history of the human mind, showing modern
men still in ignorant sincerity producing the very fits and
swoons to which for untold ages savage tribes have given
religious import. These manifestations in modern Europe
indeed form part of a revival of religion, the religion of
mental disease.

From this series of rites, practical with often harmful
practicality, we turn to a group of ceremonies whose characteristic
is picturesque symbolism. In discussing sun-myth
and sun-worship, it has come into view how deeply the
association in men’s mind of the east with light and warmth,
life and happiness and glory, of the west with darkness and
chill, death and decay, has from remote ages rooted itself in
religious belief. It will illustrate and confirm this view to
observe how the same symbolism of east and west has taken
shape in actual ceremony, giving rise to a series of practices
// File: 430.png
.pn +1
concerning the posture of the dead in their graves and the
living in their temples, practices which may be classed under
the general heading of Orientation.

While the setting sun has shown to men, from savage
ages onward, the western region of death, the rising sun has
displayed a scene more hopeful, an eastern home of deity.
It seems to be the working out of the solar analogy, on the
one hand in death as sunset, on the other in new life as
sunrise, that has produced two contrasted rules of burial,
which agree in placing the dead in the sun’s path, the line
of east and west. Thus the natives of Australia have in
some districts well-marked thoughts of the western land of
the dead, yet the custom of burying the dead sitting with
face to the east is also known among them.[#] The Samoans
and Fijians, agreeing that the land of the departed lies in
the far west, bury the corpse lying with head east and feet
west;[#] the body would but have to rise and walk straight
onward to follow its soul home. This idea is stated explicitly
among the Winnebagos of North America; they will
sometimes bury a dead man sitting up to the breast in a
hole in the ground, looking westward; or graves are dug
east and west, and the bodies laid in them with the head
eastward, with the motive ‘that they may look towards the
happy land in the west.’[#] With these customs may be
compared those of certain South American tribes. The
Yumanas bury their dead bent double with faces looking
toward the heavenly region of the sunrise, the home of
their great good deity, who they trust will take their souls
with him to his dwelling;[#] the Guarayos bury the corpses
with heads turned to the east, for it is in the eastern sky
that their god Tamoi, the Ancient of Heaven, has his
happy hunting-grounds where the dead will meet again.[#]
// File: 431.png
.pn +1
On the other hand the Peruvian custom was to place the
dead huddled up in a sitting posture and with faces turned
to the west.[#] Barbaric Asia may be represented by the
modern Ainos of Yesso, burying the dead lying robed in
white with the head to the east, ‘because that is where the
sun rises;’ or by the Tunguz who bury with the head to
the west; or by the mediæval Tatars, raising a great mound
over the dead, and setting up thereon a statue with face
turned toward the east, holding a drinking-cup in his hand
before his navel; or by the modern Siamese, who do not
sleep with their heads to the west, because it is in this
significant position that the dead are burned.[#] The burial
of the dead among the ancient Greeks in the line of east
and west, whether according to Athenian custom of the
head toward the sunset, or the converse, is another link in
the chain of custom.[#] Thus it is not to late and isolated
fancy, but to the carrying on of ancient and widespread
solar ideas, that we trace the well-known legend that the
body of Christ was laid with the head toward the west, thus
looking eastward, and the Christian usage of digging graves
east and west, which prevailed through mediæval times and
is not yet forgotten. The rule of laying the head to the
west, and its meaning that the dead shall rise looking toward
the east, are perfectly stated in the following passage from
an ecclesiastical treatise of the <abbr=sixteenth>16th</abbr> century: <lang=la>‘Debet autem
quis sic sepeliri, ut capite ad occidentem posito, pedes
dirigat ad orientem, in quo quasi ipsa positione orat: et
innuit quod promptus est, ut de occasu festinet ad ortum:
de mundo ad seculum.’</lang>[#]
// File: 432.png
.pn +1

Where among the lower races sun-worship begins to consolidate
itself in systematic ritual, the orientation of the
worshipper and the temple becomes usual and distinct.
The sun-worshipping Comanches, preparing for the war-path,
will place their weapons betimes on the east side of
the lodge to receive the sun’s first rays; it is a remnant of
old solar rite, that the Christianized Pueblo Indians of New
Mexico turn to the sun at his rising.[#] It has been already
noticed how in old times each morning at sunrise the Sun-chief
of the Natchez of Louisiana stood facing the east at
the door of his house, and smoked toward the sun first,
before he turned to the other three quarters of the world.[#]
The cave-temple of the sun-worshipping Apalaches of
Florida had its opening looking east, and within stood the
priests on festival days at dawn, waiting till the first rays
entered to begin the appointed rites of chant and incense
and offering.[#] In old Mexico, where sun-worship was the
central doctrine of the complex religion, men knelt in prayer
towards the east, and the doors of the sanctuaries looked
mostly westward.[#] It was characteristic of the solar worship
of Peru that even the villages were habitually built on slopes
toward the east, that the people might see and greet the
national deity at his rising. In the temple of the sun at
Cuzco, his splendid golden disc on the western wall looked
out through the eastern door, so that as he rose his first
beams fell upon it, reflected thence to light up the sanctuary.[#]

In Asia, the ancient Aryan religion of the sun manifests
itself not less plainly in rites of orientation. They have
their place in the weary ceremonial routine which the Brahman
// File: 433.png
.pn +1
must daily accomplish. When he has performed the
dawn ablution, and meditated on the effulgent sun-light
which is Brahma, the supreme soul, he proceeds to worship
the sun, standing on one foot and resting the other against
his ankle or heel, looking toward the east, and holding his
hands open before him in a hollow form. At noon, when
he has again adored the sun, it is sitting with his face to
the east that he must read his daily portion of the Veda; it
is looking toward the east that his offering of barley and
water must be first presented to the gods, before he turns
to north and south; it is with first and principal direction
to the east that the consecration of the fire and the sacrificial
implements, a ceremony which is the groundwork of all
his religious acts, has to be performed.[#] The significance
of such reverence paid by adorers of the sun to the glorious
eastern region of his rising, may be heightened to us by
setting beside it a ceremony of a darker faith, displaying
the awe-struck horror of the western home of death. The
antithesis to the eastward consecration by the orthodox
Brahmans is the westward consecration by the Thugs,
worshippers of Kali the death-goddess. In honour of Kali
their victims were murdered, and to her the sacred pickaxe
was consecrated, wherewith the graves of the slain were dug.
At the time of the suppression of Thuggee, Englishmen
had the consecration of the pickaxe performed in make-believe
in their presence by those who well knew the dark
ritual. On the dreadful implement no shadow of any living
thing must fall, its consecrator sits facing the west to perform
the fourfold washing and the sevenfold passing through
the fire, and then it being proved duly consecrated by the
omen of the coco-nut divided at a single cut, it is placed
on the ground, and the bystanders worship it, turning to
the west.[#]

These two contrasted rites of east and west established
// File: 434.png
.pn +1
themselves and still remain established in modern European
religion. In judging of the course of history that has
brought about this state of things, it scarcely seems that
Jewish influence was effective. The Jewish temple had the
entrance in the east, and the sanctuary in the west. Sun-worship
was an abomination to the Jews, and the orientation
especially belonging to it appears as utterly opposed to
Jewish usage, in Ezekiel’s horror-stricken vision: ‘and,
behold, at the door of the temple of Jehovah, between the
porch and the altar, about five-and-twenty men, with their
backs toward the temple of Jehovah, and their faces toward
the east, and they worshipped the sun toward the east.’[#]
Nor is there reason to suppose that in later ages such
orientation gained ground in Jewish ceremony. The solar
rites of other nations whose ideas were prominent in the early
development of Christianity, are sufficient to account for the
rise of Christian orientation. On the one hand there was
the Asiatic sun-worship, perhaps specially related to the
veneration of the rising sun in old Persian religion, and
which has left relics in the east of the Turkish empire into
modern years; Christian sects praying toward the sun, and
Yezidis turning to the east as their kibleh and burying their
dead looking thither.[#] On the other hand, orientation was
recognized in classic Greek religion, not indeed in slavish
obedience to a uniform law, but as a principle to be worked
out in converse ways. Thus it was an Athenian practice
for the temple to have its entrance east, looking out through
which the divine image stood to behold the rising sun.
This rule it is that Lucian refers to, when he talks of the
delight of gazing toward the loveliest and most longed-for
of the day, of welcoming the sun as he peeps forth, of taking
one’s fill of light through the wide-open doors, even as the
// File: 435.png
.pn +1
ancients built their temples looking forth. Nor was the
contrary rule as stated by Vitruvius less plain in meaning;
the sacred houses of the immortal gods shall be so arranged,
that if no reason prevents and choice is free, the temple and
the statue erected in the cell shall look toward the west, so
that they who approach the altar to sacrifice and vow and
pray may look at once toward the statue and the eastern
sky, the divine figures thus seeming to arise and look upon
them. Altars of the gods were to stand toward the east.[#]

Unknown in primitive Christianity, the ceremony of
orientation was developed within its first four centuries. It
became an accepted custom to turn in prayer toward the
east, the mystic region of the Light of the World, the Sun
of Righteousness. Augustine says, ‘When we stand at
prayer, we turn to the east, where the heaven arises, not as
though God were only there, and had forsaken all other
parts of the world, but to admonish our mind to turn to a
more excellent nature, that is, to the Lord.’ No wonder
that the early Christians were thought to practise in substance
the rite of sun-worship which they practised in form.
Thus Tertullian writes: ‘Others indeed with greater truth
and verisimilitude believe the sun to be our God ...
the suspicion arising from its being known that we pray
toward the region of the east.’ Though some of the most
ancient and honoured churches of Christendom stand to
show that orientation was no original law of ecclesiastical
architecture, yet it became dominant in early centuries.
That the author of the ‘Apostolical Constitutions’ should
be able to give directions for building churches toward the
east (<lang=grc>ὁ οἶκος ἔστω ἐπιμηκής, κατ’ ἀνατολὰς τετραμμένος</lang>), just as
Vitruvius had laid down the rule as to the temples of the
gods, is only a part of that assimilation of the church to the
temple which took effect so largely in the scheme of worship.
Of all Christian ceremony, however, it was in the rite of
baptism that orientation took its fullest and most picturesque
// File: 436.png
.pn +1
form. The catechumen was placed with face toward the
west, and then commanded to renounce Satan with gestures
of abhorrence, stretching out his hands against him, or
smiting them together, and blowing or spitting against him
thrice. Cyril of Jerusalem, in his ‘Mystagogic Catechism,’
thus depicts the scene: ‘Ye first came into the ante-room
of the baptistery, and standing toward the west (<lang=grc>πρὸς τὰς
δυσμάς</lang>) ye were commanded to put away Satan, stretching
out your hands as though he were present.... And
why did ye stand toward the west? It was needful, for
sunset is the type of darkness, and he is darkness and has
his strength in darkness; therefore symbolically looking
toward the west ye renounce that dark and gloomy ruler.’
Then turning round to the east, the catechumen took up his
allegiance to his new master, Christ. The ceremony and
its significance are clearly set forth by Jerome, thus: ‘In
the mysteries [meaning baptism] we first renounce him who
is in the west, and dies to us with our sins; and so, turning
to the east, we make a covenant with the Sun of righteousness,
promising to be his servants.’[#] This perfect double
rite of east and west, retained in the baptismal ceremony
of the Greek Church, may be seen in Russia to this day.
The orientation of churches and the practice of turning to
the east as an act of worship, are common to both Greek
and Latin ritual. In our own country they declined from
the Reformation, till at the beginning of the 19th century
they seemed falling out of use; since then, however, they
have been restored to a certain prominence by the revived
mediævalism of our own day. To the student of history, it
is a striking example of the connexion of thought and ceremony
through the religions of the lower and higher culture,
to see surviving in our midst, with meaning dwindled into
// File: 437.png
.pn +1
symbolism, this ancient solar rite. The influence of the
divine Sun upon his rude and ancient worshippers still
subsists before our eyes as a mechanical force, acting
diamagnetically to adjust the axis of the church and turn
the body of the worshipper.

The last group of rites whose course through religious
history is to be outlined here, takes in the varied dramatic
acts of ceremonial purification of Lustration. With all the
obscurity and intricacy due to age-long modification, the
primitive thought which underlies these ceremonies is still
open to view. It is the transition from practical to symbolic
cleansing, from removal of bodily impurity to deliverance
from invisible, spiritual, and at last moral evil. Our
language follows this ideal movement to its utmost stretch,
where such words as cleansing and purification have passed
from their first material meaning, to signify removal of
ceremonial contamination, legal guilt, and moral sin.
What we thus express in metaphor, the men of the lower
culture began early to act in ceremony, purifying persons
and objects by various prescribed rites, especially by dipping
them in and sprinkling them with water, or fumigating them
with and passing them through fire. It is the plainest proof
of the original practicality of proceedings now passed into
formalism, to point out how far the ceremonial lustrations
still keep their connexion with times of life when real
purification is necessary, how far they still consist in formal
cleansing of the new-born child and the mother, of the man-slayer
who has shed blood, or the mourner who has touched
a corpse. In studying the distribution of the forms of
lustration among the races of the world, while allowing for
the large effect of their transmission from religion to religion,
and from nation to nation, we may judge that their diversity
of detail and purpose scarcely favours a theory of their being
all historically derived from one or even several special
religions of the ancient world. They seem more largely to
exemplify independent working out, in different directions,
of an idea common to mankind at large. This view may
// File: 438.png
.pn +1
be justified by surveying lustration through a series of
typical instances, which show its appearance and character
in savage and barbaric culture, as being an act belonging to
certain well-marked events of human life.

The purification of the new-born child appears among
the lower races in various forms, but perhaps in some particular
instances borrowed from the higher. It should be
noticed that though the naming of the child is often associated
with its ceremonial cleansing, there is no real connexion
between the two rites, beyond their coming due at
the same early time of life. To those who look for the
matter-of-fact origin of such ceremonies, one of the most
suggestive of the accounts available is a simple mention of
the two necessary acts of washing and name-giving, as done
together in mere practical purpose, but not as yet passed
into formal ceremony—the Kichtak Islanders, it is remarked,
at birth wash the child, and give it a name.[#] Among the
Yumanas of Brazil, as soon as the child can sit up, it is
sprinkled with a decoction of certain herbs, and receives a
name which has belonged to an ancestor.[#] Among some
Jakun tribes of the Malay Peninsula, as soon as the child
is born it is carried to the nearest stream and washed; it is
then brought back to the house, the fire is kindled, and
fragrant wood thrown on, over which it is passed several
times.[#] The New Zealanders’ infant baptism is no new
practice, and is considered by them an old traditional rite,
but nothing very similar is observed among other branches
of the Polynesian race. Whether independently invented
or not, it was thoroughly worked into the native religious
scheme. The baptism was performed on the eighth day or
earlier, at the side of a stream or elsewhere, by a native
priest who sprinkled water on the child with a branch or
twig; sometimes the child was immersed. With this lustration
it received its name, the priest repeating a list of
// File: 439.png
.pn +1
ancestral names till the child chose one for itself by sneezing
at it. The ceremony was of the nature of a dedication,
and was accompanied by rhythmical formulas of exhortation.
The future warrior was bidden to flame with anger, to leap
nimbly and ward off the spears, to be angry and bold and
industrious, to work before the dew is off the ground; the
future housewife was bidden to get food and go for firewood
and weave garments with panting of breath. In after years,
a second sacred sprinkling was performed to admit a lad
into the rank of warriors. It has to be noticed with reference
to the reason of this ceremonial washing, that a new-born
child is in the highest degree tapu, and may only be
touched by a few special persons till the restriction is
removed.[#] In Madagascar, a fire is kept up in the room
for several days, then the child in its best clothes is in due
form carried out of the house and back to its mother, both
times being carefully lifted over the fire, which is made
near the door.[#] In Africa, some of the most noticeable
ceremonies of the class are these. The people of Sarac
wash the child three days after birth with holy water.[#]
When a Mandingo child was about a week old its hair was
cut, and the priest, invoking blessings, took it in his arms,
whispered in its ear, spat thrice in its face, and pronounced
its name aloud before the assembled company.[#] In Guinea,
when a child is born, the event is publicly proclaimed, the
new-born babe is brought into the streets, and the headman
of the town or family sprinkles it with water from a basin,
giving it a name and invoking blessings of health and
wealth upon it; other friends follow the example, till the
child is thoroughly drenched.[#] In these various examples
// File: 440.png
.pn +1
of lustration of infants, the purifications by fire have especial
importance ethnologically, not because this proceeding
is more natural to the savage mind than that of bathing or
sprinkling with water, but because this latter ceremony may
sometimes have been imitated from Christian baptism. The
fact of savage and barbaric lustration of infants being in
several cases associated with the belief in re-birth of ancestral
souls seems to mark the rite as belonging to remote
pre-Christian ages.[#]

The purification of women at childbirth, &c., is ceremonially
practised by the lower races under circumstances
which do not suggest adoption from more civilized nations.
The seclusion and lustration among North American Indian
tribes have been compared with those of the Levitical law,
but the resemblance is not remarkably close, and belongs
rather to a stage of civilization than to the ordinance of a
particular nation. It is a good case of independent development
in such customs, that the rite of putting out the fires
and kindling ‘new fire’ on the woman’s return is common
to the Iroquois and Sioux in North America,[#] and the
Basutos in South Africa. These latter have a well-marked
rite of lustration by sprinkling, performed on girls at
womanhood.[#] The Hottentots considered mother and child
unclean till they had been washed and smeared after the
uncleanly native fashion.[#] Lustrations with water were
usual in West Africa.[#] Tatar tribes in Mongolia used
bathing, while in Siberia the custom of leaping over a fire
answered the purpose of purification.[#] The Mantras of the
Malay Peninsula have made the bathing of the mother after
// File: 441.png
.pn +1
childbirth into a ceremonial ordinance.[#] It is so among the
indigenes of India, where both in northern and southern
districts the naming of the child comes into connexion with
the purification of the mother, both ceremonies being performed
on the same day.[#] Without extending further this
list of instances, it is sufficiently plain that we have before
us the record of a practical custom becoming consecrated
by traditional habit, and making its way into the range of
religious ceremony.

Much the same may be said of the purification of savage
and barbaric races on occasion of contamination by bloodshed
or funeral. In North America, the Dacotas use the
vapour-bath not only as a remedy, but also for the removal
of ceremonial uncleanness, such as is caused by killing a
person, or touching a dead body.[#] So among the Navajos,
the man who has been deputed to carry a dead body to
burial, holds himself unclean until he has thoroughly washed
himself in water prepared for the purpose by certain ceremonies.[#]
In Madagascar, no one who has attended a
funeral may enter the palace courtyard till he has bathed,
and in all cases there must be an ablution of the mourner’s
garments on returning from the grave.[#] Among the Basutos
of South Africa, warriors returning from battle must rid
themselves of the blood they have shed, or the shades of
their victims would pursue them and disturb their sleep.
Therefore they go in procession in full armour to the nearest
stream to wash, and their weapons are washed also. It is
usual in this ceremony for a sorcerer higher up the stream
to put in some magical ingredient, such as he also uses in
the preparation of the holy water which is sprinkled over
the people with a beast’s tail at the frequent public purifications.
These Basutos, moreover, use fumigation with burning
wood to purify growing corn, and cattle taken from the
// File: 442.png
.pn +1
enemy. Fire serves for purification in cases too trifling to
require sacrifice; thus when a mother sees her child walk
over a grave, she hastens to call it, makes it stand before
her, and lights a small fire at its feet.[#] The Zulus, whose
horror of a dead body will induce them to cast out and
leave in the woods their sick people, at least strangers,
purify themselves by an ablution after a funeral. It is to be
noticed that these ceremonial practices have come to mean
something distinct from mere cleanliness. Kaffirs who will
purify themselves from ceremonial uncleanness by washing,
are not in the habit of washing themselves or their vessels
for ordinary purposes, and the dogs and the cockroaches
divide between them the duty of cleaning out the milk-baskets.[#]
Mediæval Tatar tribes, some of whom had conscientious
scruples against bathing, have found passing
through fire or between two fires a sufficient purification,
and the household stuff of the dead was lustrated in this
latter way.[#]

In the organised nations of the semi-civilized and civilized
world, where religion shapes itself into elaborate and
systematic schemes, the practices of lustration familiar to
the lower culture now become part of stringent ceremonial
systems. It seems to be at this stage of their existence
that they often take up in addition to their earlier ceremonial
significance an ethical meaning, absent or all but
absent from them at their first appearance above the religious
horizon. This will be made evident by glancing over
the ordinances of lustration in the great national religions
of history. It will be well to notice first the usages of two
semi-civilized nations of America, which though they have
scarcely produced practical effect on civilization at large,
give valuable illustration of a transition period in culture,
leaving apart the obscure question of their special civilization
// File: 443.png
.pn +1
having been influenced in early or late times from the
Old World.

In the religion of Peru, lustration is well-marked and
characteristic. On the day of birth, the water in which the
child has been washed was poured into a hole in the ground,
charms being repeated by a wizard or priest; an excellent
instance of the ceremonial washing away of evil influences.
The naming of the child was also more or less generally
accompanied with ceremonial washing, as in districts where
at two years old it was weaned, baptized, had its hair ceremonially
cut with a stone knife, and received its child-name;
Peruvian Indians still cut off a lock of the child’s
hair at its baptism. Moreover, the significance of lustration
as removing guilt is plainly recorded in ancient Peru;
after confession of guilt, an Inca bathed in a neighbouring
river and repeated this formula, ‘O thou River, receive the
sins I have this day confessed unto the Sun, carry them
down to the sea, and let them never more appear.’[#] In
old Mexico, the first act of ceremonial lustration took place
at birth. The nurse washed the infant in the name of the
water-goddess, to remove the impurity of its birth, to
cleanse its heart and give it a good and perfect life; then
blowing on water in her right hand she washed it again,
warning it of forthcoming trials and miseries and labours,
and praying the invisible Deity to descend upon the water,
to cleanse the child from sin and foulness, and to deliver it
from misfortune. The second act took place some four
days later, unless the astrologers postponed it. At a festive
gathering, amid fires kept alight from the first ceremony,
the nurse undressed the child sent by the gods into this sad
and doleful world, bade it receive the life-giving water, and
washed it, driving out evil from each limb and offering to
the deities appointed prayers for virtue and blessing. It
// File: 444.png
.pn +1
was then that the toy instruments of war or craft or household
labour were placed in the boy’s or girl’s hand (a custom
singularly corresponding with one usual in China), and the
other children, instructed by their parents, gave the newcomer
its child-name, here again to be replaced by another
at manhood or womanhood. There is nothing unlikely in
the statement that the child was also passed four times
through the fire, but the authority this is given on is not
sufficient. The religious character of ablution is well
shown in Mexico by its forming part of the daily service
of the priests. Aztec life ended as it had begun, with
ceremonial lustration; it was one of the funeral ceremonies
to sprinkle the head of the corpse with the lustral water of
this life.[#]

Among the nations of East Asia, and across the more civilized
Turanian districts of Central Asia, ceremonial lustration
comes frequently into notice; but it would often bring
in difficult points of ethnography to attempt a general judgment
how far these may be native local rites, and how far ceremonies
adopted from foreign religious systems. As examples
may be mentioned in Japan the sprinkling and naming of
the child at a month old, and other lustrations connected
with worship;[#] in China the religious ceremony at the first
washing of the three days’ old infant, the lifting of the bride
over burning coals, the sprinkling of holy-water over sacrifices
and rooms and on the mourners after a funeral;[#] in
Burma the purification of the mother by fire, and the annual
sprinkling-festival.[#] Within the range of Buddhism in its
Lamaist form, we find such instances as the Tibetan and
// File: 445.png
.pn +1
Mongol lustration of the child a few days after birth, the
lama blessing the water and immersing the child thrice, and
giving its name; the Buraet consecration by threefold washing;
the Tibetan ceremony where the mourners returning
from the funeral stand before the fire, wash their hands with
warm water over the hot coals, and fumigate themselves
thrice with proper formulas.[#] With this infant baptism of
Tibetans and Mongols may be compared the rite of their
ethnological kinsfolk in Europe. The Lapps in their semi-Christianized
state had a form of baptism, in which a new
name, that of the deceased ancestor who would live again
in the child, as the mother was spiritually informed in a
dream, was given with a threefold sprinkling and washing
with warm water where mystic alder-twigs were put. This
ceremony, though called by the Scandinavian name of
‘laugo’ or bath, was distinct from the Christian baptism
to which the Lapps also conformed.[#] The natural ethnographic
explanation of these two baptismal ceremonies
existing together in Northern Europe, is that Christianity
had brought in a new rite, without displacing a previous
native one.

Other Asiatic districts show lustration in more compact
and characteristic religious developments. The Brahman
leads a life marked by recurring ceremonial purification,
from the time when his first appearance in the world brings
uncleanness on the household, requiring ablution and clean
garments to remove it, and thenceforth through his years
from youth to old age, where bathing is a main part of the
long minute ceremonial of daily worship, and further washings
and aspersions enter into more solemn religious acts,
till at last the day comes when his kinsfolk, on their way
home from his funeral, cleanse themselves by a final bath
from their contamination by his remains. For the means
// File: 446.png
.pn +1
of some of his multifarious lustrations the Hindu has recourse
to the sacred cow, but his more frequent medium of
removing uncleanness of body and soul is water, the divine
waters to which he prays, ‘Take away, O Waters, whatsoever
is wicked in me, what I have done by violence or curse,
and untruth!’[#] The Parsi religion prescribes a system of
lustrations which well shows its common origin with that
of Hinduism by its similar use of cow’s urine and of water.
Bathing or sprinkling with water, or applications of ‘nirang’
washed off with water, form part of the daily religious rites,
as well as of such special ceremonies as the naming of the
new-born child, the putting on of the sacred cord, the purification
of the mother after childbirth, the purification of
him who has touched a corpse, when the unclean demon,
driven by sprinkling of the good water from the top of the
head and from limb to limb, comes forth at the left toe and
departs like a fly to the evil region of the north. It is,
perhaps, the influence of this ancestral religion, even more
than the actual laws of Islam, that makes the modern
Persian so striking an example of the way in which ceremony
may override reality. It is rather in form than in
fact that his cleanliness is next to godliness. He carries
the principle of removing legal uncleanness by ablution so
far, that a holy man will wash his eyes when they have been
polluted by the sight of an infidel. He will carry about a
water-pot with a long spout for his ablutions, yet he depopulates
the land by his neglect of the simplest sanitary rules,
and he may be seen by the side of the little tank where
scores of people have been in before him, obliged to clear
with his hand a space in the foul scum on the water, before
he plunges in to obtain ceremonial purity.[#]
// File: 447.png
.pn +1

Over against the Aryan rites of lustration in the religions
of Asia, may be set the well-known types in the religions of
classic Europe. At the Greek amphidromia, when the child
was about a week old, the women who had assisted at the
birth washed their hands, and afterwards the child was
carried round the fire by the nurse, and received its name;
the Roman child received its prænomen with a lustration at
about the same age, and the custom is recorded of the nurse
touching its lips and forehead with spittle. To wash before
an act of worship was a ceremony handed down by Greek and
Roman ritual through the classic ages: <lang=grc>καθαραῖς δὲ δρόσοις,
ἀφυδρανάμενοι στχείετε ναούς</lang>—<lang=la>eo lavatum, ut sacrificem</lang>. The
holy-water mingled with salt, the holy-water vessel at
the temple entrance, the brush to sprinkle the worshippers,
all belong to classic antiquity. Romans, their flocks and
herds and their fields, were purified from disease and other
ill by lustrations which show perfectly the equivalent nature
of water and fire as means of purification; the passing of
flocks and shepherds through fires, the sprinkling water with
laurel branches, the fumigating with fragrant boughs and
herbs and sulphur, formed part of the rustic rites of the
Palilia. Bloodshed demanded the lustral ceremony. Hektor
fears to pour with unwashen hands the libation of dark
wine, nor may he pray bespattered with gore to cloud-wrapped
Zeus; Æneas may not touch the household gods
till cleansed from slaughter by the living stream. It was
with far changed thought that Ovid wrote his famous reproof
of his too-easy countrymen, who fancied that water could
indeed wash off the crime of blood:—

.pm verse-start
<lang=la>‘Ah nimium faciles, qui tristia crimina cædis</lang>
  <lang=la>Fluminea tolli posse putetis aqua.’</lang>
.pm verse-end

Thus, too, the mourner must be cleansed by lustration
from the contaminating presence of death. At the door of
the Greek house of mourning was set the water-vessel, that
those who had been within might sprinkle themselves and
be clean; while the mourners returning from a Roman
// File: 448.png
.pn +1
funeral, aspersed with water and stepping over fire, were by
this double process made pure.[#]

The ordinances of purification in the Levitical law relate
especially to the removal of legal uncleanness connected
with childbirth, death, and other pollutions. Washing was
prescribed for such purposes, and also sprinkling with
water of separation, water mingled with the ashes of the red
heifer. Ablution formed part of the consecration of priests,
and without it they might not serve at the altar nor enter
the tabernacle. In the later times of Jewish national history,
perhaps through intercourse with nations whose lustrations
entered more into the daily routine of life, ceremonial washings
were multiplied. It seems also that in this period
must be dated the ceremony which in after ages has held so
great a place in the religion of the world, their rite of
baptism of proselytes.[#] The Moslem lustrations are ablutions
with water, or in default with dust or sand, performed
partially before prayer, and totally on special days or to
remove special uncleanness. They are strictly religious
acts, belonging in principle to prevalent usage of Oriental
religion; and their details, whether invented or adopted as
they stand in Islam, are not carried down from Judaism or
Christianity.[#] The rites of lustration which have held and
hold their places within the pale of Christianity are in well-marked
historical connexion with Jewish and Gentile ritual.
Purification by fire has only appeared as an actual ceremony
// File: 449.png
.pn +1
among some little-known Christian sects, and in the European
folklore custom of passing children through or over
fire, if indeed we can be sure that this rite is lustral and
not sacrificial.[#] The usual medium of purification is water.
Holy-water is in full use through the Greek and Roman
churches. It blesses the worshipper as he enters the temple,
it cures disease, it averts sorcery from man and beast, it
drives demons from the possessed, it stops the spirit-writer’s
pen, it drives the spirit-moved table it is sprinkled upon to
dash itself frantically against the wall; at least these are
among the powers attributed to it, and some of the most
striking of them have been lately vouched for by papal
sanction. This lustration with holy-water so exactly continues
the ancient classic rite, that its apologists are apt to
explain the correspondence by arguing that Satan stole it
for his own wicked ends.[#] Catholic ritual follows ancient
sacrificial usage in the priest’s ceremonial washing of hands
before mass. The priest’s touching with his spittle the
ears and nostrils of the infant or catechumen, saying,
‘Ephphatha,’ is obviously connected with passages in the
Gospels; its adoption as a baptismal ceremony has been
compared, perhaps justly, with the classical lustration by
spittle.[#] Finally, it has but to be said that ceremonial
purification as a Christian act centres in baptism by water,
that symbol of initiation of the convert which history traces
from the Jewish rite to that of John the Baptist, and thence
to the Christian ordinance. Through later ages adult baptism
carries on the Jewish ceremony of the admission of
the proselyte, while infant baptism combines this with the
lustration of the new-born infant. Passing through a range
of meaning such as separates the sacrament of the Roman
// File: 450.png
.pn +1
centurion from the sacrament of the Roman cardinal, becoming
to some a solemn symbol of new life and faith, to some
an act in itself of supernatural efficacy, the rite of baptism
has remained almost throughout the Christian world the
outward sign of the Christian profession.

In considering the present group of religious ceremonies,
their manifestations in the religions of the higher nations
have been but scantily outlined in comparison with their
rudimentary forms in the lower culture. Yet this reversal
of the proportions due to practical importance in no way
invalidates, but rather aids, the ethnographic lessons to be
drawn by tracing their course in history. Through their
varied phases of survival, modification, and succession, they
have each in its own way brought to view the threads of
continuity which connect the faiths of the lower with the
faiths of the higher world; they have shown how hardly
the civilized man can understand the religious rites even of
his own land without knowledge of the meaning, often the
widely unlike meaning, which they bore to men of distant
ages and countries, representatives of grades of culture far
different from his.

.fn #
Turner, ‘Polynesia,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 88; see <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 427.
.fn-
.fn #
Ibid. <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 200; see <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 174. See also Ellis, ‘Polyn. Res.’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 343.
Mariner, ‘Tonga Is.’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 235.
.fn-
.fn #
Schoolcraft, ‘<abbr=Indian>Ind.</abbr> Tribes,’ part <abbr=three>iii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 237.
.fn-
.fn #
M’Coy, ‘Baptist Indian Missions,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 359.
.fn-
.fn #
Tanner, ‘Narrative,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 46.
.fn-
.fn #
Brinton, ‘Myths of New World,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 297.
.fn-
.fn #
Heckewelder, <lang=de>‘Ind. Völkerschaften,’</lang> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 354.
.fn-
.fn #
‘Narratives of Rites and Laws of Yncas,’ <abbr=translated>tr.</abbr> and <abbr=edited>ed.</abbr> by <abbr rend=spell>C. R.</abbr> Markham,
<abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 31, 33. See also Brinton, <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 298.
.fn-
.fn #
Callaway, ‘Religion of Amazulu,’ <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 141, 174, 182. ‘Remarks on
Zulu Lang.’ Pietermaritzburg, 1870, <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 22.
.fn-
.fn #
Waitz, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 169. Steinhauser, <abbr rend=spell>l.c.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 129.
.fn-
.fn #
Rowley, ‘Universities’ Mission to Central Africa,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 226.
.fn-
.fn #
Mason, ‘Karens,’ <abbr rend=spell>l.c.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 215.
.fn-
.fn #
Macpherson, ‘India,’ <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 110, 128. See also Hunter, ‘Rural Bengal,’
<abbr=page>p.</abbr> 182 (Santals).
.fn-
.fn #
Plath, ‘Religion der Chinesen,’ part <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 2; Doolittle, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 116.
.fn-
.fn #
‘Sama-Veda,’ <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 4, 2. Wuttke, <lang=de>‘Gesch. des Heidenthums,’</lang> part <abbr=two>ii.</abbr>
<abbr=page>p.</abbr> 342.
.fn-
.fn #
Lane, ‘Modern Egyptians,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 128.
.fn-
.fn #
‘Rig-Veda,’ <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 51, 8, <abbr=ten>x.</abbr> 105, 8. Muir, ‘Sanskrit Texts,’ part <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=chapter>ch.</abbr> <abbr=three>iii.</abbr>
.fn-
.fn #
Lane, ‘Modern Egyptians,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 383.
.fn-
.fn #
See Köppen, ‘Religion des Buddha,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 345, 556; <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 303,
319. Compare Fergusson, ‘Tree and Serpent Worship,’ <abbr=plate>pl.</abbr> <abbr='forty-three'>xlii.</abbr>
.fn-
.fn #
Xenoph. Memorabilia Socrat. <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 3, 2.
.fn-
.fn #
Sahagun, ‘Retorica, &c., de la Gente Mexicana,’ <abbr=liber>lib.</abbr> <abbr=six>vi.</abbr> <abbr=chapter>c.</abbr> 4, in Kingsborough,
‘Antiquities of Mexico,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=five>v.</abbr>
.fn-
.fn #
‘Rig-Veda,’ <abbr=seven>vii.</abbr> 89, 3. Max Müller, ‘Chips,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 39.
.fn-
.fn #
‘Avesta,’ <abbr=translated>tr.</abbr> by Spiegel; ‘Khorda-Avesta,’ Patet Qod.
.fn-
.fn #
Garcilaso de la Vega, ‘Commentarios Reales,’ <abbr=five>v.</abbr> 19. Ellis, ‘Madagascar,’
<abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr>, <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 421.
.fn-
.fn #
Charlevoix, ‘Nouv. Fr.’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 394. See also Smith, ‘Virginia,’ in
‘Pinkerton,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=thirteen>xiii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 41.
.fn-
.fn #
Phillips in Astley’s ‘Voyages,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 411; Lubbock, ‘Origin of Civilization,’
<abbr=page>p.</abbr> 216. Bosman, ‘Guinea,’ in Pinkerton, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=sixteen>xvi.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 500. Bastian
in <lang=de>‘Ztschr. für Ethnologie,’</lang> 1869, <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 315.
.fn-
.fn #
Schoolcraft, ‘Algic Res.’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 75. See also Tanner, ‘Narr.’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 193,
and above, <abbr=page>p.</abbr> #270#.
.fn-
.fn #
Macpherson, ‘India,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 129.
.fn-
.fn #
Billings, ‘Exp. to Northern Russia,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 125. Chinese sacrifices buried
for earth spirits, see ante, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 107; Plath, part <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 50.
.fn-
.fn #
Taylor, ‘New Zealand,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 182.
.fn-
.fn #
Römer, ‘Guinea,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 67.
.fn-
.fn #
Herod. <abbr=seven>vii.</abbr> 35, 54. Liv. <abbr=seven>vii.</abbr> 6. Grote, ‘<abbr=History>Hist.</abbr> of Greece,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=ten>x.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 589,
see <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 715.
.fn-
.fn #
Rochefort, ‘Iles Antilles,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 367.
.fn-
.fn #
Ellis, ‘Polyn. Res.’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 336, 358. Williams, ‘Fiji,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 220.
.fn-
.fn #
Bosman, ‘Guinea,’ in Pinkerton, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=sixteen>xvi.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 494; J. L. Wilson, ‘<abbr=west>W.</abbr>
<abbr=Africa>Afr.</abbr>’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 218; Burton, ‘<abbr rend=spell>W.</abbr> & <abbr rend=spell>W.</abbr> fr. <abbr=west>W.</abbr> <abbr=Africa>Afr.</abbr>’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 331.
.fn-
.fn #
Ward, ‘Hindoos,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 195, &c.
.fn-
.fn #
Clavigero, ‘Messico,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 69. <abbr rend=spell>J. G.</abbr> Müller, <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 631.
.fn-
.fn #
Ward, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 194; ‘Mem. Anthrop. Soc.’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 332.
.fn-
.fn #
Williams, ‘Fiji,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 226.
.fn-
.fn #
<abbr rend=spell>J. L.</abbr> Wilson, ‘<abbr=west>W.</abbr> <abbr=Africa>Afr.</abbr>’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 218.
.fn-
.fn #
Manu, <abbr=three>iii.</abbr> 212. See also ‘Avesta,’ <abbr=translated>tr.</abbr> by Spiegel, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> <abbr='seventy-seven'>lxxvii.</abbr>
(sacrificial cakes eaten by priest).
.fn-
.fn #
Ysbrants Ides, ‘Reize naar China,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 38. Meiners, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 162.
.fn-
.fn #
Clavigero, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 46. <abbr rend=spell>J. G.</abbr> Müller, <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 631.
.fn-
.fn #
Bel and the Dragon.
.fn-
.fn #
Römer, ‘Guinea,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 47.
.fn-
.fn #
Bastian, ‘Mensch,’ part <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 210.
.fn-
.fn #
Homer, <abbr=Odyssey>Odyss.</abbr> <abbr=eleven>xi.</abbr> <abbr=twelve>xii.</abbr>
.fn-
.fn #
‘Journ. Ind. Archip.’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 270.
.fn-
.fn #
Smith, ‘Virginia,’ in Pinkerton, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=thirteen>xiii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 41; see <abbr rend=spell>J. G.</abbr> Müller,
<abbr=page>p.</abbr> 143; Waitz, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=three>iii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 207. Comp. Meiners, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 89. See also
Bollaert in ‘Mem. Anthrop. Soc.’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 96.
.fn-
.fn #
‘Journ. Ind. Archip.’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=three>iii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 145. See also <abbr=Saint>St.</abbr> John, ‘Far East,’
<abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 160.
.fn-
.fn #
Hodgson, ‘Abor. of India,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 147; Hunter, ‘Rural Bengal,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 181;
Forbes Leslie, ‘Early Races of Scotland,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 458.
.fn-
.fn #
Bosman, ‘Guinea,’ letter <abbr='twenty-one'>xxi.</abbr> in Pinkerton, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=sixteen>xvi.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 531. See
also Waitz, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 192.
.fn-
.fn #
Bastian, ‘Psychologie,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 96.
.fn-
.fn #
<abbr=Leviticus>Levit.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> &c.; <abbr=Deuteronomy>Deuteron.</abbr> <abbr=twelve>xii.</abbr> 23; Psalm <abbr=sixteen>xvi.</abbr> 4.
.fn-
.fn #
Waitz, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=three>iii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 181. Hennepin, ‘Voyage,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 302. Charlevoix,
<lang=fr>‘Nouvelle France,’</lang> <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=five>v.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 311, <abbr=six>vi.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 178. Schoolcraft, ‘<abbr=Indian>Ind.</abbr> Tribes,’
part <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 49, part <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 127. Catlin, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 181, 229. Morgan,
‘Iroquois,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 164. <abbr rend=spell>J. G.</abbr> Müller, <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 58.
.fn-
.fn #
Rochefort, ‘Iles Antilles,’ <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 418, 507. Lery, ‘Voy. en Brésil,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 268.
See also Musters in ‘Journ. Anthrop. Inst.’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 202 (Patagonians).
.fn-
.fn #
Callaway, ‘Religion of Amazulu,’ <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 11, 141, 177. See also Casalis,
‘Basutos,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 258.
.fn-
.fn #
Clavigero, ‘Messico,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 39. See also Piedrahita, part <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=liber>lib.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr>
<abbr=chapter>c.</abbr> 3 (Muyscas).
.fn-
.fn #
Plath, <lang=de>‘Religion der alten Chinesen,’</lang> part <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 31. Doolittle,
‘Chinese.’
.fn-
.fn #
Porphyr. de Abstinentia, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> 5. Arnob. contra Gentes. <abbr=seven>vii.</abbr> 26. Meiners,
<abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 14.
.fn-
.fn #
Wilkinson, ‘Ancient Egyptians,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=five>v.</abbr> <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 315, 338. Plutarch, de Is.
et Osir.
.fn-
.fn #
Herodot. <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 183.
.fn-
.fn #
<abbr=Exodus>Exod.</abbr> <abbr=thirty>xxx.</abbr>, <abbr='thirty-seven'>xxxvii.</abbr> <abbr=Leviticus>Lev.</abbr> <abbr=ten>x.</abbr> 1, <abbr=sixteen>xvi.</abbr> 12, &c.
.fn-
.fn #
Smith, ‘Virginia,’ in Pinkerton, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=thirteen>xiii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 41. Le Jeune in ‘Rel.
des Jés.’ 1634, <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 16. Catlin, ‘<abbr rend=spell>N. A.</abbr> Ind.’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 189.
.fn-
.fn #
‘Rites and Laws of Incas,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 16, &c., 79; see ‘Ollanta, an ancient Ynca
Drama,’ <abbr=translated>tr.</abbr> by <abbr rend=spell>C. R.</abbr> Markham, <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 81. Garcilaso de la Vega, <abbr=liber>lib.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=six>vi.</abbr>
.fn-
.fn #
Klemm, ‘Cultur-Gesch.’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=three>iii.</abbr> <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 106, 114.
.fn-
.fn #
Plath, part <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 65.
.fn-
.fn #
Latham, ‘Descr. Eth.’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 191.
.fn-
.fn #
‘Rig-Veda,’ <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 1, 4.
.fn-
.fn #
Homer, <abbr=Iliad>Il.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 317.
.fn-
.fn #
Porphyr. De Abstinentia, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> 42; see 58.
.fn-
.fn #
Stanley, ‘Jewish Church,’ <abbr=second>2d</abbr> <abbr=series>Ser.</abbr> <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 410, 424. See Kalisch on Leviticus;
Barry in Smith’s ‘Dictionary of the Bible,’ <abbr=article>art.</abbr> ‘sacrifice.’
.fn-
.fn #
Callaway, ‘Religion of Amazulu,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 11 (amadhlozi or amatongo = ancestral
spirits).
.fn-
.fn #
Roman Pane, <abbr=chapter>ch.</abbr> <abbr=sixteen>xvi.</abbr> in ‘Life of Colon,’ in Pinkerton, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=twelve>xii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 86.
Rochefort, ‘Iles Antilles,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 418; see Meiners, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr>, <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 516; <abbr rend=spell>J. G.</abbr> Müller,
<abbr=page>p.</abbr> 212.
.fn-
.fn #
‘Journ. Ind. Archip.’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=four>iv.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 194.
.fn-
.fn #
Eliot in ‘As. Res.’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=three>iii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 30.
.fn-
.fn #
Macpherson, ‘India,’ <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 88, 100.
.fn-
.fn #
Klemm, ‘Cultur-Gesch.’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=three>iii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 114.
.fn-
.fn #
Grimm, <lang=de>‘Deutsche Myth.’</lang> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 264.
.fn-
.fn #
‘Journ. Ind. Archip.’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 27.
.fn-
.fn #
Mason, ‘Karens,’ <abbr rend=spell>l.c.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 208.
.fn-
.fn #
Bastian, ‘Mensch,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 407. Ellis, ‘Polyn. Res.’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 358.
Taylor, ‘New Zealand,’ <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 104, 220.
.fn-
.fn #
Williams, ‘Fiji,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 231.
.fn-
.fn #
Schoolcraft, ‘Algic Researches,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 140; see <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 190.
.fn-
.fn #
Tanner’s ‘Narrative,’ <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 286, 318. See also Waitz, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=three>iii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 207.
.fn-
.fn #
<abbr rend=spell>J. G.</abbr> Müller, <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 142; see <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 282.
.fn-
.fn #
Sahagun, <abbr=liber>lib.</abbr> <abbr=six>vi.</abbr> in Kingsborough, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=five>v.</abbr>
.fn-
.fn #
‘Rites and Laws of Yncas,’ <abbr=translated>tr.</abbr> and <abbr=edited>ed.</abbr> by <abbr rend=spell>C. R.</abbr> Markham, <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 55, 58,
166. See ante, <abbr=page>p.</abbr> #385# (possible connexion of smoke with soul).
.fn-
.fn #
Waitz, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 188, 196. Steinhauser, <abbr rend=spell>l.c.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 136. See also Schlegel,
‘Ewe-Sprache,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> <abbr=fifteen>xv.</abbr>; Magyar, ‘Süd-Afrika,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 273.
.fn-
.fn #
<abbr rend=spell>A.</abbr> Campbell in ‘Tr. Eth. Soc.’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=seven>vii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 153.
.fn-
.fn #
O’Riley, in ‘Journ. Ind. Archip.’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=four>iv.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 592. Bastian, ‘Oestl. Asien,’
<abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 12.
.fn-
.fn #
<abbr rend=spell>R.</abbr> Clarke, ‘Sierra Leone,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 43.
.fn-
.fn #
Smith, ‘Virginia,’ in Pinkerton, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=thirteen>xiii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 41. Welcker, <lang=de>‘Griech.
Götterlehre,’</lang> <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 693. Legge, ‘Confucius,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 179. Grohmann,
<lang=de>‘Aberglauben aus Böhmen,’</lang> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 41, &c.
.fn-
.fn #
<abbr rend=spell>J. L.</abbr> Wilson, ‘<abbr=West>W.</abbr> <abbr=Africa>Afr.</abbr>’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 218; Bosman, ‘Guinea,’ in Pinkerton, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr>
<abbr=sixteen>xvi.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 400.
.fn-
.fn #
Bastian, ‘Oestl. Asien,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 387.
.fn-
.fn #
Roberts, ‘Oriental Illustrations,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 545.
.fn-
.fn #
M’Coy, ‘Baptist Indian Missions,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 305.
.fn-
.fn #
Callaway, ‘Religion of Amazulu,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 59. See Casalis, <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 252.
.fn-
.fn #
Earl in ‘Journ. Ind. Archip.’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=four>iv.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 174.
.fn-
.fn #
Hodgson, ‘Abor. of India,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 170, see <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 146; Hooker, ‘Himalayan
Journals,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 276.
.fn-
.fn #
Prescott, ‘Mexico,’ book <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=chapter>ch.</abbr> <abbr=three>iii.</abbr>
.fn-
.fn #
‘Rites and Laws of Yncas,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 33, &c.
.fn-
.fn #
Welcker, <lang=de>‘Griech. Götterlehre,’</lang> <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 50; Pauly, ‘Real-Encyclopedie,’
<abbr rend=spell>s.v.</abbr> ‘Sacrificia.’
.fn-
.fn #
Tanner’s ‘Nar.’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 154; see also Waitz, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=three>iii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 167.
.fn-
.fn #
Symes, ‘Ava,’ in Pinkerton, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=nine>ix.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 440; Caron, ‘Japan,’ ib. <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr>
<abbr=seven>vii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 629.
.fn-
.fn #
Burton, ‘Medinah,’ &c., <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=three>iii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 302; Lane, ‘Mod. <abbr=Egypt>Eg.</abbr>’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 132.
.fn-
.fn #
Hardy, ‘Manual of Budhism,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 59.
.fn-
.fn #
2 Kings <abbr=three>iii.</abbr> 27. Euseb. Præp. Evang. <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 10, <abbr=four>iv.</abbr> 156; Laud. Constant.
<abbr=thirteen>xiii.</abbr> Porphyr. De Abstin. <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> 56, &c. Lamprid. Heliogabal. <abbr=seven>vii.</abbr> Movers,
‘Phönizier,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 300, &c.
.fn-
.fn #
Ellis, ‘Madagascar,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 419.
.fn-
.fn #
Römer, ‘Guinea,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 59. Bosman in Pinkerton, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=sixteen>xvi.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 399.
.fn-
.fn #
Klemm, <lang=de>‘Cultur-Gesch.’</lang> <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=three>iii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 106; Castrén, ‘Finn. Myth.’
<abbr=page>p.</abbr> 232.
.fn-
.fn #
Hesiod. Theog. 537. Welcker, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 764; <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 51.
.fn-
.fn #
Haug, ‘Parsis,’ Bombay, 1862, <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 238.
.fn-
.fn #
Hamilton in ‘As. Res.’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 342.
.fn-
.fn #
Mariner’s ‘Tonga Is.’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 454; <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 222. Cook’s ‘<abbr=third>3rd</abbr> <abbr=Voyage>Voy.</abbr>’
<abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 403. Details from <abbr=South>S.</abbr> Africa in Bastian, ‘Mensch,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=three>iii.</abbr> <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 4,
24; Scherzer, ‘<abbr=Voyage>Voy.</abbr> of Novara,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 212.
.fn-
.fn #
Catlin, ‘<abbr rend=spell>N. A.</abbr> Ind.’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 172; Klemm, ‘Cultur-Gesch.’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 170.
See also Venegas, <lang=es>‘Noticia de la California,’</lang> <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 117; Garcilaso de la
Vega, <abbr=liber>lib.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=chapter>c.</abbr> 8 (Peru).
.fn-
.fn #
Buchanan, ‘Mysore,’ &c., in Pinkerton, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=eight>viii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 661; Meiners, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr>
<abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 472; Bastian, <abbr rend=spell>l.c.</abbr> See also Dubois, ‘India,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 5.
.fn-
.fn #
Polack, ‘New Zealand,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 264.
.fn-
.fn #
Bastian, ‘Psychologie,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 184.
.fn-
.fn #
Theodoret. in Levit. <abbr=nineteen>xix.</abbr>; Hanusch, ‘Slaw. Myth.’ Details in Bastian,
‘Mensch,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 229, &c.
.fn-
.fn #
Bastian, ‘Mensch,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=three>iii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 113 (see other details).
.fn-
.fn #
Pausan. <abbr=eight>viii.</abbr> 23; <abbr=nine>ix.</abbr> 8.
.fn-
.fn #
‘Encyc. Brit.’ <abbr=article>art.</abbr> ‘Brahma.’ See ‘Asiat. Res.’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=nine>ix.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 387.
.fn-
.fn #
Boecler, <lang=de>‘Ehsten Aberglaübische Gebraüche,’</lang> &c., <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 4.
.fn-
.fn #
Rivero and Tschudi, <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 196. See ‘Rites of Yncas,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 79.
.fn-
.fn #
Bastian, <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 112, &c.; Smith’s ‘<abbr=Dictionary>Dic.</abbr> of <abbr=Greek>Gr.</abbr> and <abbr=Roman>Rom.</abbr> <abbr=Antiquity>Ant.</abbr>’ <abbr=article>art.</abbr> ‘Sacrificium.’
.fn-
.fn #
Grimm, <lang=de>‘Deutsche Myth.’</lang> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 40.
.fn-
.fn #
Diodor. Sic. <abbr=twenty>xx.</abbr> 14.
.fn-
.fn #
Callaway, ‘Zulu Tales,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 88; Magyar, ‘Süd-Afrika,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 256.
.fn-
.fn #
Macpherson, ‘India,’ <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 108, 187.
.fn-
.fn #
De Silva in Bastian, ‘Psychologie,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 181.
.fn-
.fn #
Details in Pauly, ‘Real-Encyclop.’ <abbr rend=spell>s.v.</abbr> ‘Sacrificia’; Bastian, ‘Mensch,’
<abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=three>iii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 114; Movers, ‘Phönizier,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 300.
.fn-
.fn #
Clavigero, ‘Messico,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 82; Torquemada, ‘Monarquia Indiana,’
<abbr=ten>x.</abbr> <abbr=chapter>c.</abbr> 29; <abbr rend=spell>J. G.</abbr> Müller, <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 502, 640. See also ibid. <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 379 (Peru); ‘Rites
and Laws of Yncas,’ <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 46, 54.
.fn-
.fn #
Grote, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=five>v.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 366. Schmidt in Smith’s ‘<abbr=Dictionary>Dic.</abbr> of <abbr=Greek>Gr.</abbr> and <abbr=Roman>Rom.</abbr> <abbr=Antiquity>Ant.</abbr>’
<abbr=article>art.</abbr> ‘Sacrificium.’ Bastian, <abbr rend=spell>l.c.</abbr>
.fn-
.fn #
Bastian, ‘Oestl. Asien,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=three>iii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 501.
.fn-
.fn #
Doolittle, ‘Chinese,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 152.
.fn-
.fn #
Lane, ‘Modern <abbr=Egyptians>Eg.</abbr>’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 262. Meiners, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 85.
.fn-
.fn #
Wilkinson, ‘Ancient <abbr=Egypt>Eg.</abbr>’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=three>iii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 395; and in Rawlinson’s Herodotus,
<abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 137. See 1 <abbr=Samuel>Sam.</abbr> <abbr=six>vi.</abbr> 4.
.fn-
.fn #
Grimm, <lang=de>‘Deutsche Myth.’</lang> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 1131.
.fn-
.fn #
Ibid.
.fn-
.fn #
Bastian, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=three>iii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 116.
.fn-
.fn #
<abbr=Saint>St.</abbr> Clair and Brophy, ‘Bulgaria,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 43. Compare modern Circassian
sacrifice of animal before cross, as substitute for child, in Bell, ‘Circassia,’
<abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr>
.fn-
.fn #
Ralston, ‘Songs of Russian People,’ <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 123, 153, &c.
.fn-
.fn #
Wuttke, <lang=de>‘Deutsche Volksaberglaube,’</lang> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 86. See also Grimm, <lang=de>‘Deutsche
Myth.’</lang> <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 417, 602.
.fn-
.fn #
Hyltén-Cavallius, ‘Wärend och Wirdarne,’ part <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 131, 146, 157, &c.
.fn-
.fn #
Monnier, <lang=fr>‘Traditions Populaires,’</lang> <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 187, 666.
.fn-
.fn #
<abbr rend=spell>R.</abbr> Hunt, ‘Pop. Rom. of <abbr=West>W.</abbr> of England,’ <abbr=first>1st</abbr> Ser. <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 237. Pennant,
‘Tour in Scotland,’ in Pinkerton, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=three>iii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 49. <abbr rend=spell>J. Y.</abbr> Simpson, Address
to Soc. Antiq. Scotland, 1861, <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 33; Brand, ‘Pop. Ant.’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=three>iii.</abbr> <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 74,
317.
.fn-
.fn #
Brand, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 484. Grimm, ‘<abbr rend=spell>D. M.</abbr>’ <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 45, 194, 1188, see <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 250;
<lang=de>‘Deutsche Rechtsalterthümer,’</lang> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 900; Hyltén-Cavallius, part <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 175.
.fn-
.fn #
Grimm, ‘<abbr rend=spell>D. M.</abbr>’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 962.
.fn-
.fn #
Beausobre, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 667. Polydorus Vergilius, <lang=la>De Inventoribus Rerum</lang>
(Basel, 1521), <abbr=liber>lib.</abbr> <abbr=five>v.</abbr> 1.
.fn-
.fn #
Tanner’s ‘Narrative,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 288. Loskiel, ‘<abbr rend=spell>N. A.</abbr> Ind.’ part <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 76. Schoolcraft,
‘<abbr=Indian>Ind.</abbr> Tribes,’ part <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 34, 113, 360, 391; part <abbr=three>iii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 227. Catlin,
‘<abbr rend=spell>N. A.</abbr> Ind.’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 36. Charlevoix, ‘Nouv. Fr.’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 170; <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=six>vi.</abbr>
<abbr=page>p.</abbr> 67. Klemm, ‘Cultur-Gesch.’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 170. Waitz, ‘Anthropologie,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr>
<abbr=three>iii.</abbr> <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 206, 217.
.fn-
.fn #
Colombo, ‘Vita,’ <abbr=chapter>ch.</abbr> xxv. Rochefort, ‘Iles Antilles,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 501. See also
Meiners, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 143 (Guyana).
.fn-
.fn #
Dobrizhoffer, ‘Abipones,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 68.
.fn-
.fn #
<abbr=Saint>St.</abbr> John, ‘Far East,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 144.
.fn-
.fn #
Döhne, ‘Zulu <abbr=Dictionary>Dic.</abbr>’ <abbr rend=spell>s.v.</abbr> ‘nyanga;’ Grout, ‘Zulu-land,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 158; Callaway,
‘Religion of Amazulu,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 387.
.fn-
.fn #
Somadeva Bhatta, <abbr=translation>tr.</abbr> Brockhaus, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 81. Meiners, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 147.
.fn-
.fn #
Maury, ‘Magic,’ &c., <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 237; Pausan. <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 34; Philostrat. Apollon. Tyan.
<abbr=one>i.</abbr>; Galen. Comment. in Hippocrat. <abbr=one>i.</abbr>
.fn-
.fn #
Baptist. Mantuan. Fast. <abbr=nine>ix.</abbr> 350.
.fn-
.fn #
‘Acta Sanctorum Bolland.’ <abbr rend=spell>S.</abbr> Theresa.
.fn-
.fn #
Colombo, ‘Vita,’ <abbr=chapter>ch.</abbr> <abbr='sixty-two'>lxii.</abbr>; Roman Pane, ibid. <abbr=chapter>ch.</abbr> <abbr=fifteen>xv.</abbr>; and in Pinkerton,
<abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=twelve>xii.</abbr> Condamine, ‘Travels,’ in Pinkerton, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=fourteen>xiv.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 226; Martius,
‘Ethnog. Amer.’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 441, 631 (details of snuff-powders among
Omaguas, Otomacs, &c.; native names curupá, paricá, niopo, nupa; made
from seeds of Mimosa acacioides, Acacia niopo).
.fn-
.fn #
Maury, ‘Magie,’ &c., <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 425.
.fn-
.fn #
Seemann, ‘<abbr=Voyage>Voy.</abbr> of Herald,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 256. Rivero and Tschudi, ‘Peruvian
Antiquities,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 184. <abbr rend=spell>J. G.</abbr> Müller, <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 397.
.fn-
.fn #
Brasseur, ‘Mexique,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=three>iii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 558; Clavigero, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 40; <abbr rend=spell>J. G.</abbr>
Müller, <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 656.
.fn-
.fn #
<abbr rend=spell>J. G.</abbr> Müller, ‘Amer. Urrelig.’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 277; Hernandez, ‘Historia Mexicana,’
<abbr=liber>lib.</abbr> <abbr=five>v.</abbr> <abbr=chapter>c.</abbr> 51; Purchas, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=four>iv.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 1292.
.fn-
.fn #
<abbr rend=spell>D.</abbr> Wilson, ‘Prehistoric Man,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 487.
.fn-
.fn #
Loskiel, ‘Ind. of <abbr rend=spell>N. A.</abbr>’ part <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 42.
.fn-
.fn #
Herodot. <abbr=four>iv.</abbr> 73-5.
.fn-
.fn #
Maury, ‘Magie,’ &c., <abbr rend=spell>l.c.</abbr>; Plin. <abbr='twenty-four'>xxiv.</abbr> 102; Hesych. <abbr rend=spell>s.v.</abbr> ‘ὠπήτειρα.’
See also Bastian, ‘Mensch,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 152, &c.; Baring-Gould, ‘Were-wolves,’
<abbr=page>p.</abbr> 149.
.fn-
.fn #
Polak, ‘Persien,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 245; Vambéry in ‘Mem. Anthrop. Soc.’
<abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 20; Meiners, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 216.
.fn-
.fn #
Meiners, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 162.
.fn-
.fn #
Schoolcraft, ‘Indian Tribes,’ part <abbr=three>iii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 286.
.fn-
.fn #
Bastian, ‘Mensch,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 145. Compare ‘Oestl. Asien,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 247
(Aracan).
.fn-
.fn #
<abbr rend=spell>D. H.</abbr> Tuke in ‘Journal of Mental Science,’ Oct. 1870, <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 368.
.fn-
.fn #
Grey, ‘Australia,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 327.
.fn-
.fn #
Turner, ‘Polynesia,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 230. Seemann, ‘Viti,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 151.
.fn-
.fn #
Schoolcraft, ‘Indian Tribes,’ part <abbr=four>iv.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 54.
.fn-
.fn #
Martius, ‘Ethnog. Amer.’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 485.
.fn-
.fn #
D’Orbigny, <lang=fr>‘L’Homme Américain,’</lang> <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 319, 330.
.fn-
.fn #
Rivero and Tschudi, ‘Peruvian Antiquities,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 202. See also Arbousset
and Daumas, ‘Voyage,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 277 (Kafirs).
.fn-
.fn #
Bickmore, in ‘Tr. Eth. Soc.’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=seven>vii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 20. Georgi, ‘Reise,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr>
<abbr=page>p.</abbr> 266. Gul. de Rubruquis in Hakluyt <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 78. Bastian, ‘Oestl.
Asien,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=three>iii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 228.
.fn-
.fn #
Ælian. Var. Hist. <abbr=five>v.</abbr> 14, <abbr=seven>vii.</abbr> 19; Plutarch. Solon, <abbr=ten>x.</abbr>; Diog. Laert.
Solon; Welcker, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 404.
.fn-
.fn #
Beda in Die <abbr rend=spell>S.</abbr> Paschæ. Durand, Rationale Divinorum Officiorum, <abbr=liber>lib.</abbr>
<abbr=seven>vii.</abbr> <abbr=chapter>c.</abbr> 35-9. Brand, ‘Popular Antiquities,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 295, 318.
.fn-
.fn #
Gregg, ‘Commerce of Prairies,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 270, 273; <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 318.
.fn-
.fn #
Charlevoix, <lang=fr>‘Nouvelle France,’</lang> <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=six>vi.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 178.
.fn-
.fn #
Rochefort, ‘Iles Antilles,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 365.
.fn-
.fn #
Clavigero, ‘Messico,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 24; <abbr rend=spell>J. G.</abbr> Müller, <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 641. See Oviedo,
‘Nicaragua,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 29.
.fn-
.fn #
<abbr rend=spell>J. G.</abbr> Müller, <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 363; Prescott, ‘Peru,’ book <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=chapter>ch.</abbr> 3. Garcilaso de la
Vega, <lang=es>‘Commentarios Reales,’</lang> <abbr=liber>lib.</abbr> <abbr=three>iii.</abbr> <abbr=chapter>c.</abbr> 20, says it was at the east end; <abbr rend=spell>cf.</abbr>
<abbr=liber>lib.</abbr> <abbr=six>vi.</abbr> <abbr=chapter>c.</abbr> 21 (llama sacrificed with head to east).
.fn-
.fn #
Colebrooke, ‘Essays,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr>, <abbr=four>iv.</abbr> and <abbr=five>v.</abbr>
.fn-
.fn #
‘Illustrations of the History and Practices of the Thugs,’ London, 1837,
<abbr=page>p.</abbr> 46.
.fn-
.fn #
<abbr=Ezekiel>Ezek.</abbr> <abbr=eight>viii.</abbr> 16; Mishna, ‘Sukkoth,’ <abbr=five>v.</abbr> See Fergusson in Smith’s ‘Dictionary
of the Bible,’ <abbr rend=spell>s.v.</abbr> ‘Temple.’
.fn-
.fn #
Hyde, <lang=la>‘Veterum Persarum Religionis Historia,’</lang> <abbr=chapter>ch.</abbr> <abbr=four>iv.</abbr> Niebuhr,
<lang=de>‘Reisebeschreibung nach Arabien,’</lang> <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 396. Layard, ‘Nineveh,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr>
<abbr=chapter>ch.</abbr> <abbr=nine>ix.</abbr>
.fn-
.fn #
Lucian. De Domo, <abbr=six>vi.</abbr> Vitruv. de Architectura, <abbr=four>iv.</abbr> 5. See Welcker, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr>
<abbr=page>p.</abbr> 403.
.fn-
.fn #
Augustin. de Serm. Dom. in Monte, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> 5. Tertullian. Contra Valentin.
<abbr=three>iii.</abbr>; Apolog. <abbr=sixteen>xvi.</abbr> Constitutiones Apostolicæ, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> 57. Cyril. Catech. Mystag.
<abbr=one>i.</abbr> 2. Hieronym. in Amos. <abbr=six>vi.</abbr> 14; Bingham, ‘Antiquities of Chr. Church,’
book <abbr=eight>viii.</abbr> <abbr=chapter>ch.</abbr> 3, book <abbr=eleven>xi.</abbr> <abbr=chapter>ch.</abbr> 7, book <abbr=thirteen>xiii.</abbr> <abbr=chapter>ch.</abbr> 8. <abbr rend=spell>J. M.</abbr> Neale, ‘Eastern
Church,’ part <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 956; Romanoff, ‘Greco-Russian Church,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 67.
.fn-
.fn #
Billings, ‘<abbr=north>N.</abbr> Russia,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 175.
.fn-
.fn #
Martius, ‘Ethnog. Amer.’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 485.
.fn-
.fn #
‘Journ. Ind. Archip.’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 264.
.fn-
.fn #
Taylor, ‘New Zealand,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 184; Yate, <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 82; Polack, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 51;
<abbr rend=spell>A. S.</abbr> Thomson, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 118; Klemm, ‘Cultur-Gesch.’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=four>iv.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 304.
See Schirren, <lang=de>‘Wandersagen der Neuseeländer,’</lang> <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 58, 183; Shortland,
<abbr=page>p.</abbr> 145.
.fn-
.fn #
Ellis, ‘Madagascar,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 152.
.fn-
.fn #
Munzinger, ‘Ost-Afrika,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 387.
.fn-
.fn #
Park, ‘Travels,’ <abbr=chapter>ch.</abbr> <abbr=six>vi.</abbr>
.fn-
.fn #
<abbr rend=spell>J. L.</abbr> Wilson, ‘Western Africa,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 399. See also Bastian, ‘Mensch,’
<abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 279 (Watje); ‘Anthropological Review,’ Nov. 1864, <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 243
(Mpongwe); Barker-Webb and Berthelot, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 163 (Tenerife).
.fn-
.fn #
See <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 5, 437.
.fn-
.fn #
Schoolcraft, ‘Indian Tribes,’ part <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 261; part <abbr=three>iii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 243, &c.
Charlevoix, <lang=fr>‘Nouvelle France,’</lang> <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=five>v.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 425. Wilson in ‘Tr. Eth. Soc.’
<abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=four>iv.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 294.
.fn-
.fn #
Casalis, ‘Basutos,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 267.
.fn-
.fn #
Kolben, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 273, 283.
.fn-
.fn #
Bosman, in Pinkerton, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=sixteen>xvi.</abbr> <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 423, 527; Meiners, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr>
107, 463.
.fn-
.fn #
Pallas, <lang=de>‘Mongolische Völkerschaften,’</lang> <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 166, &c.; Strahlenberg,
‘Siberia,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 97.
.fn-
.fn #
Bourien in ‘Tr. Eth. Soc.’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=three>iii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 81.
.fn-
.fn #
Dalton in ‘Tr. Eth. Soc.’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=six>vi.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 22; Shortt, ibid. <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=three>iii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 375.
.fn-
.fn #
Schoolcraft, ‘Indian Tribes,’ part <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 255.
.fn-
.fn #
Brinton, ‘Myths of New World,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 127.
.fn-
.fn #
Ellis, ‘Madagascar,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 241; see <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 407, 419.
.fn-
.fn #
Casalis, ‘Basutos,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 258.
.fn-
.fn #
Grout, ‘Zulu-land,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 147; Backhouse, ‘Mauritius and S. Africa,’
<abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 213, 225.
.fn-
.fn #
Bastian, ‘Mensch,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=three>iii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 75; Rubruquis, in Pinkerton, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=seven>vii.</abbr>
<abbr=page>p.</abbr> 82; Plano Carpini in Hakluyt, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 37.
.fn-
.fn #
Rivero and Tschudi, ‘Peruvian Antiquities,’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 180; <abbr rend=spell>J. G.</abbr> Müller,
‘Amer. Urrelig.’ <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 389; Acosta, ‘Ind. Occ.’ <abbr=five>v.</abbr> <abbr=chapter>c.</abbr> 25; Brinton, <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 126.
See account of the rite of driving out sicknesses and evils into the rivers,
‘Rites and Laws of Incas,’ <abbr=translated>tr.</abbr> and <abbr=edited>ed.</abbr> by <abbr rend=spell>C. R.</abbr> Markham, <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 22.
.fn-
.fn #
Sahagun, <lang=es>‘Nueva España,’</lang> <abbr=liber>lib.</abbr> <abbr=six>vi.</abbr>; Torquemada, ‘Monarquia Indiana,’
<abbr=liber>lib.</abbr> <abbr=twelve>xii.</abbr>; Clavigero, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 39, 86, &c.; Humboldt, ‘Vues des Cordillères,’
Mendoza Cod.; <abbr rend=spell>J. G.</abbr> Müller, <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 652.
.fn-
.fn #
Siebold, ‘Nippon,’ <abbr=five>v.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 22; Kempfer, ‘Japan,’ <abbr=chapter>ch.</abbr> <abbr=thirteen>xiii.</abbr> in Pinkerton,
<abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=seven>vii.</abbr>
.fn-
.fn #
Doolittle, ‘Chinese,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 120, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 273. Davis, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr>
269.
.fn-
.fn #
Bastian, ‘Oestl. Asien,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 247; Meiners, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 106; Symes
in Pinkerton, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=nine>ix.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 435.
.fn-
.fn #
Köppen, <lang=de>‘Religion des Buddha,’</lang> <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 320; Bastian, ‘Psychologie,’
<abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 151, 211; ‘Mensch,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 499.
.fn-
.fn #
Leems, ‘Finnmarkens Lapper.’ Copenhagen, <abbr=chapter>c.</abbr> <abbr=fourteen>xiv.</abbr>, <abbr='twenty-two'>xxii.</abbr>, and Jessen,
<abbr rend=spell>c.</abbr> <abbr=fourteen>xiv.</abbr>; Pinkerton, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 483; Klemm, ‘Cultur-Gesch.’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=three>iii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 77.
.fn-
.fn #
Ward, ‘Hindoos,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=pages>pp.</abbr> 96, 246, 337; Colebrooke, ‘Essays,’
<abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> Wuttke, ‘Gesch. des Heidenthums,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 378. ‘Rig-Veda,’ <abbr=one>i.</abbr>
22, 23.
.fn-
.fn #
Avesta, Vendidad, <abbr=five>v.</abbr>-<abbr=twelve>xii.</abbr>; Lord, in Pinkerton, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=eight>viii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 570;
Naoroji, ‘Parsee Religion’; Polak, ‘Persien,’ vol <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 355, &c., <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr>
<abbr=page>p.</abbr> 271. Meiners, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 125.
.fn-
.fn #
Details in Smith’s ‘<abbr=Dictionary>Dic.</abbr> of <abbr=Greek>Gr.</abbr> and <abbr=Roman>Rom.</abbr> <abbr=Antiquity>Ant.</abbr>’ and Pauly, ‘Real-Encyclopedie,’
<abbr rend=spell>s.v.</abbr> ‘amphidromia,’ ‘lustratio,’ ‘sacrificium,’ ‘funus’;
Meiners, <lang=de>‘Gesch. der Religionen,’</lang> book <abbr=seven>vii.</abbr>; Lomeyer, <lang=la>‘De Veterum Gentilium
Lustrationibus’</lang>; Montfaucon, <lang=fr>‘L’Antiquité Expliquée,’</lang> &c. Special
passages; Homer, <abbr=Iliad>Il.</abbr> <abbr=six>vi.</abbr> 266; Eurip. Ion. 96; Theocrit. <abbr='twenty-four'>xxiv.</abbr> 95; <abbr=Virgil>Virg.</abbr>
<abbr=Aeneid>Æn.</abbr> <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> 719; Plaut. Aulular. <abbr=three>iii.</abbr> 6; Pers. Sat. <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> 31; Ovid. Fast. <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 669,
<abbr=two>ii.</abbr> 45, <abbr=four>iv.</abbr> 727; Festus, <abbr rend=spell>s.v.</abbr> ‘aqua et ignis,’ &c. The obscure subject of
lustration in the mysteries is here left untouched.
.fn-
.fn #
<abbr=Exodus>Ex.</abbr> <abbr='twenty-nine'>xxix.</abbr> 4, <abbr=thirty>xxx.</abbr> 18, <abbr=forty>xl.</abbr> 12; <abbr=Leviticus>Lev.</abbr> <abbr=eight>viii.</abbr> 6, <abbr=fourteen>xiv.</abbr> 8, <abbr=fifteen>xv.</abbr> 5, <abbr='twenty-two'>xxii.</abbr> 6; <abbr=Numebrs>Numb.</abbr>
<abbr=nineteen>xix.</abbr> &c.; Lightfoot in ‘Works,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=eleven>xi.</abbr>; Browne in Smith’s ‘<abbr=Dictionary>Dic.</abbr> of the
Bible,’ <abbr rend=spell>s.v.</abbr> ‘baptism;’ Calmet, ‘<abbr=Dictionary>Dic.</abbr>’ &c.
.fn-
.fn #
Reland, ‘De Religione Mohammedanica;’ Lane, ‘Modern <abbr=Egyptians>Eg.</abbr>’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr>
<abbr=page>p.</abbr> 98, &c.
.fn-
.fn #
Bingham, ‘Antiquities of Christian Church,’ book <abbr=eleven>xi.</abbr> <abbr=chapter>ch.</abbr> 2. Grimm,
<lang=de>‘Deutsche Mythologie,’</lang> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 592; Leslie, ‘Early Races of Scotland,’ <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=one>i.</abbr>
<abbr=page>p.</abbr> 113; Pennant, in Pinkerton, <abbr=volume>vol.</abbr> <abbr=three>iii.</abbr> <abbr=page>p.</abbr> 383.
.fn-
.fn #
<lang=la>Rituale Romanum</lang>; Gaume, <lang=fr>‘L’Eau Bénite;’</lang> Middleton, ‘Letter from
Rome,’ &c.
.fn-
.fn #
<lang=la>Rituale Romanum</lang>. Bingham, book <abbr=ten>x.</abbr> <abbr=chapter>ch.</abbr> 2, book <abbr=fifteen>xv.</abbr> <abbr=chapter>ch.</abbr> 3. See
Mark <abbr=seven>vii.</abbr> 34, <abbr=eight>viii.</abbr> 23; John <abbr=nine>ix.</abbr> 6.
.fn-
// File: 451.png
.pn +1
.sp 4
.h2 id=chap19
CHAPTER XIX. | CONCLUSION.
.pm letter-start
Practical results of the study of Primitive Culture—Its bearing least upon
Positive Science, greatest upon Intellectual, Moral, Social, and Political
Philosophy—Language—Mythology—Ethics and Law—Religion—Action
of the Science of Culture, as a means of furthering progress
and removing hindrance, effective in the course of Civilization.
.pm letter-end
.sp 2
It now remains, in bringing to a close these investigations
on the relation of primitive to modern civilization, to urge
the practical import of the considerations raised in their
course. Granted that archæology, leading the student’s
mind back to remotest known conditions of human life,
shows such life to have been of unequivocally savage type;
granted that the rough-hewn flint hatchet, dug out from
amidst the bones of mammoths in a drift gravel-bed to lie
on an ethnologist’s writing-table, is to him a very type of
primitive culture, simple yet crafty, clumsy yet purposeful,
low in artistic level yet fairly started on the ascent toward
highest development—what then? Of course the history
and præ-history of man take their proper places in the
general scheme of knowledge. Of course the doctrine of
the world-long evolution of civilization is one which
philosophic minds will take up with eager interest, as a
theme of abstract science. But beyond this, such research
has its practical side, as a source of power destined to
influence the course of modern ideas and actions. To
establish a connexion between what uncultured ancient men
thought and did, and what cultured modern men think and
do, is not a matter of inapplicable theoretic knowledge, for
it raises the issue, how far are modern opinion and conduct
// File: 452.png
.pn +1
based on the strong ground of soundest modern knowledge,
or how far only on such knowledge as was available in the
earlier and ruder stages of culture where their types were
shaped. It has to be maintained that the early history of
man has its bearing, almost ignored as that bearing has
been by those whom it ought most stringently to affect, on
some of the deepest and most vital points of our intellectual,
industrial, and social state.

Even in advanced sciences, such as relate to measure and
force and structure in the inorganic and organic world, it is
at once a common and a serious error to adopt the principle
of letting bygones be bygones. Were scientific systems the
oracular revelations they sometimes all but pretend to be,
it might be justifiable to take no note of the condition of
mere opinion or fancy that preceded them. But the investigator
who turns from his modern text-books to the
antiquated dissertations of the great thinkers of the past,
gains from the history of his own craft a truer view of the
relation of theory to fact, learns from the course of growth
in each current hypothesis to appreciate its raison d’être
and full significance, and even finds that a return to older
starting-points may enable him to find new paths, where
the modern track seems stopped by impassable barriers.
It is true that rudimentary conditions of arts and sciences
are often rather curious than practically instructive,
especially because the modern practitioner has kept up, as
mere elementary processes, the results of the ancient or
savage man’s most strenuous efforts. Perhaps our tool-makers
may not gain more than a few suggestive hints from
a museum of savage implements, our physicians may only
be interested in savage recipes so far as they involve the
use of local drugs, our mathematicians may leave to the
infant-school the highest flights of savage arithmetic, our
astronomers may only find in the star-craft of the lower
races an uninstructive combination of myth and commonplace.
But there are departments of knowledge, of not less
consequence than mechanics and medicine, arithmetic and
// File: 453.png
.pn +1
astronomy, in which the study of the lowest stages, as influencing
the practical acceptance of the higher, cannot be
thus carelessly set aside.

If we survey the state of educated opinion, not within the
limits of some special school, but in the civilized world at
large, on such subjects especially as relate to Man, his
intellectual and moral nature, his place and function among
his fellow-men and in the universe at large, we see existing
side by side, as if of equal right, opinions most diverse in
real authority. Some, vouched for by direct and positive
evidence, hold their ground as solid truths. Others, though
founded on crudest theories of the lower culture, have been
so modified under the influence of advancing knowledge,
as to afford a satisfactory framework for recognized facts;
and positive science, mindful of the origin of its own
philosophic schemes, must admit the validity of such a
title. Others, lastly, are opinions belonging properly to
lower intellectual levels, which have held their place into
the higher by mere force of ancestral tradition; these are
survivals. Now it is the practical office of ethnography to
make known to all whom it may concern the tenure of
opinions in the public mind, to show what is received on
its own direct evidence, what is ruder ancient doctrine
reshaped to answer modern ends, and what is but time-honoured
superstition in the garb of modern knowledge.

Topic after topic shows at a glimpse the way in which
ethnography bears on modern intellectual conditions.
Language, appearing as an art in full vigour among rude
tribes, already displays the adaptation of childlike devices
in self-expressive sound and pictorial metaphor, to utter
thoughts as complex and abstruse as savage minds demand
speech for. When it is considered how far the development
of knowledge depends on full and exact means of expressing
thought, is it not a pregnant consideration that the language
of civilized men is but the language of savages, more or less
improved in structure, a good deal extended in vocabulary,
made more precise in the dictionary definition of words?
// File: 454.png
.pn +1
The development of language between its savage and
cultured stages has been made in its details, scarcely in its
principle. It is not too much to say that half the vast
defect of language as a method of utterance, and half the
vast defect of thought as determined by the influence of
language, are due to the fact that speech is a scheme
worked out by the rough and ready application of material
metaphor and imperfect analogy, in ways fitting rather the
barbaric education of those who formed it, than our own.
Language is one of those intellectual departments in which
we have gone too little beyond the savage stage, but are
still as it were hacking with stone celts and twirling
laborious friction-fire. Metaphysical speculation, again, has
been one of the potent influences on human conduct, and
although its rise, and one may almost say also its decline
and fall, belong to comparatively civilized ages, yet its
connexion with lower stages of intellectual history may to
some extent be discerned. For example, attention may be
recalled to a special point brought forward in this work, that
one of the greatest metaphysical doctrines is a transfer to
the field of philosophy from the field of religion, made when
philosophers familiar with the conception of object-phantoms
used this to provide a doctrine of thought, thus giving rise
to the theory of ideas. Far more fully and distinctly, the
study of the savage and barbaric intellect opens to us the
study of Mythology. The evidence here brought together
as to the relation of the savage to the cultured mind in the
matter of mythology has, I think, at any rate justified this
claim. With a consistency of action so general as to amount
to mental law, it is proved that among the lower races all
over the world the operation of outward events on the
inward mind leads not only to statement of fact, but to
formation of myth. It gives no unimportant clues to the
student of mental history, to see by what regular processes
myths are generated, and how, growing by wear and increasing
in value at secondhand, they pass into pseudo-historic
legend. Poetry is full of myth, and he who will
// File: 455.png
.pn +1
understand it analytically will do well to study it ethnographically.
In so far as myth, seriously or sportively
meant, is the subject of poetry, and in so far as it is couched
in language whose characteristic is that wild and rambling
metaphor which represents the habitual expression of savage
thought, the mental condition of the lower races is the key
to poetry—nor is it a small portion of the poetic realm
which these definitions cover. History, again, is an agent
powerful, and becoming more powerful, in shaping men’s
minds, and through their minds their actions in the world;
now one of the most prominent faults of historians is that,
through want of familiarity with the principles of myth-development,
they cannot apply systematically to ancient
legend the appropriate test for separating chronicle from
myth, but with few exceptions are apt to treat the mingled
mass of tradition partly with undiscriminating credulity and
partly with undiscriminating scepticism. Even more injurious
is the effect of such want of testing on that part of
traditional or documentary record which, among any section
of mankind, stands as sacred history. It is not merely that
in turning to the index of some book on savage tribes, one
comes on such a suggestive heading as this, ‘Religion—<i>see</i>
Mythology.’ It is that within the upper half of the scale
of civilization, among the great historic religions of the
world, we all know that between religion and religion, and
even to no small extent between sect and sect, the narratives
which to one side are sacred history, may seem to the other
mythic legend. Among the reasons which retard the progress
of religious history in the modern world, one of the
most conspicuous is this, that so many of its approved
historians demand from the study of mythology always
weapons to destroy their adversaries’ structures, but never
tools to clear and trim their own. It is an indispensable
qualification of the true historian that he shall be able to
look dispassionately on myth as a natural and regular product
of the human mind, acting on appropriate facts in a manner
suited to the intellectual state of the people producing it,
// File: 456.png
.pn +1
and that he shall treat it as an accretion to be deducted
from professed history, whenever it is recognized by the
tests of being decidedly against evidence as fact, and at the
same time clearly explicable as myth. It is from the ethnographic
study of savage and barbaric races that the knowledge
of the general laws of myth-development, required for
the carrying out of this critical process, may be best or
must necessarily be gained.

The two vast united provinces of Morals and Law have
been as yet too imperfectly treated on a general ethnographic
scheme, to warrant distinct statement of results.
Yet thus much may be confidently said, that where the
ground has been even superficially explored, every glimpse
reveals treasures of knowledge. It is already evident that
enquirers who systematically trace each department of
moral and legal institutions from the savage through the
barbaric and into the civilized condition of mankind, thereby
introduce into the scientific investigations of these subjects
an indispensable element which merely theoretical writers
are apt unscrupulously to dispense with. The law or
maxim which a people at some particular stage of its history
might have made fresh, according to the information
and circumstances of the period, is one thing. The law or
maxim which did in fact become current among them by
inheritance from an earlier stage, only more or less modified
to make it compatible with the new conditions, is another
and far different thing. Ethnography is required to bridge
over the gap between the two, a very chasm where the arguments
of moralists and legists are continually falling in, to
crawl out maimed and helpless. Within modern grades of
civilization this historical method is now becoming more
and more accepted. It will not be denied that English
law has acquired, by modified inheritance from past ages, a
theory of primogeniture and a theory of real estate which
are so far from being products of our own times that we
must go back to the middle ages for anything like a satisfactory
explanation of them; and as for more absolute
// File: 457.png
.pn +1
survival, did not Jewish disabilities stand practically, and
the wager of battle nominally, in our law of not many
years back? But the point to be pressed here is, that the
development and survival of law are processes that did not
first come into action within the range of written codes of
comparatively cultured nations. Admitted that civilized
law requires its key from barbaric law; it must be borne
in mind that the barbarian lawgiver too was guided in
judgment not so much by first principles, as by a reverent
and often stupidly reverent adherence to the tradition of
earlier and yet ruder ages.

Nor can these principles be set aside in the scientific
study of moral sentiment and usage. When the ethical
systems of mankind, from the lowest savagery upward, have
been analyzed and arranged in their stages of evolution,
then ethical science, no longer vitiated by too exclusive
application to particular phases of morality taken unreasonably
as representing morality in general, will put its
methods to fair trial on the long and intricate world-history
of right and wrong.

In concluding a work of which full half is occupied by
evidence bearing on the philosophy of religion, it may well
be asked, how does all this array of facts stand toward the
theologian’s special province? That the world sorely needs
new evidence and method in theology, the state of religion
in our own land bears witness. Take English Protestantism
as a central district of opinion, draw an ideal line through
its centre, and English thought is seen to be divided as by
a polarizing force extending to the utmost limits of repulsion.
On one side of the dividing line stand such as keep
firm hold on the results of the <abbr=sixteenth>16th</abbr> century reformation, or
seek yet more original canons from the first Christian ages;
on the other side stand those who, refusing to be bound by
the doctrinal judgments of past centuries, but introducing
modern science and modern criticism as new factors in
theological opinion, are eagerly pressing toward a new
reformation. Outside these narrower limits, extremer
// File: 458.png
.pn +1
partizans occupy more distant ground on either side. On
the one hand the Anglican blends gradually into the Roman
scheme, a system so interesting to the ethnologist for its
maintenance of rites more naturally belonging to barbaric
culture; a system so hateful to the man of science for its
suppression of knowledge, and for that usurpation of
intellectual authority by a sacerdotal caste which has at
last reached its climax, now that an aged bishop can judge,
by infallible inspiration, the results of researches whose
evidence and methods are alike beyond his knowledge and
his mental grasp. On the other hand, intellect, here
trampled under foot of dogma, takes full revenge elsewhere,
even within the domain of religion, in those theological
districts where reason takes more and more the command
over hereditary belief, like a mayor of the palace superseding
a nominal king. In yet farther ranges of opinion,
religious authority is simply deposed and banished, and the
throne of absolute reason is set up without a rival even in
name; in secularism the feeling and imagination which in
the religious world are bound to theological belief, have to
attach themselves to a positive natural philosophy, and to a
positive morality which shall of its own force control the acts
of men. Such, then, is the boundless divergence of opinion
among educated citizens of an enlightened country, in an age
scarcely approached by any former age in the possession of
actual knowledge and the strenuous pursuit of truth as the
guiding principle of life. Of the causes which have brought
to pass so perplexed a condition of public thought, in so
momentous a matter as theology, there is one, and that a
weighty one, which demands mention here. It is the partial
and one-sided application of the historical method of enquiry
into theological doctrines, and the utter neglect of the
ethnographical method which carries back the historical
into remoter and more primitive regions of thought. Looking
at each doctrine by itself and for itself, as in the abstract
true or untrue, theologians close their eyes to the instances
which history is ever holding up before them, that one phase
// File: 459.png
.pn +1
of a religious belief is the outcome of another, that in all
times religion has included within its limits a system of
philosophy, expressing its more or less transcendental conceptions
in doctrines which form in any age their fittest
representatives, but which doctrines are liable to modification
in the general course of intellectual change, whether
the ancient formulas still hold their authority with altered
meaning, or are themselves reformed or replaced. Christendom
furnishes evidence to establish this principle, if for
example we will but candidly compare the educated opinion of
Rome in the <abbr=fifth>5th</abbr> with that of London in the <abbr=nineteenth>19th</abbr> century, on
such subjects as the nature and functions of soul, spirit, deity,
and judge by the comparison in what important respects the
philosophy of religion has come to differ even among men
who represent in different ages the same great principles of
faith. The general study of the ethnography of religion,
through all its immensity of range, seems to countenance
the theory of evolution in its highest and widest sense. In
the treatment of some of its topics here, I have propounded
special hypotheses as to the order in which various stages of
doctrine and rite have succeeded one another in the history
of religion. Yet how far these particular theories may hold
good, seems even to myself a minor matter. The essential
part of the ethnographic method in theology lies in admitting
as relevant the compared evidence of religion in all
stages of culture. The action of such evidence on theology
proper is in this wise, that a vast proportion of doctrines
and rites known among mankind are not to be judged as
direct products of the particular religious systems which
give them sanction, for they are in fact more or less
modified results adopted from previous systems. The
theologian, as he comes to deal with each element of belief
and worship, ought to ascertain its place in the general
scheme of religion. Should the doctrine or rite in question
appear to have been transmitted from an earlier to a later
stage of religious thought, then it should be tested, like
any other point of culture, as to its place in development.
// File: 460.png
.pn +1
The question has to be raised, to which of these three categories
it belongs:—is it a product of the earlier theology,
yet sound enough to maintain a rightful place in the later?—is
it derived from a cruder original, yet so modified as to become
a proper representative of more advanced views?—is
it a survival from a lower stage of thought, imposing on the
credit of the higher by virtue not of inherent truth but of
ancestral belief? These are queries the very asking of
which starts trains of thought which candid minds should
be encouraged to pursue, leading as they do toward the
attainment of such measure of truth as the intellectual condition
of our age fits us to assimilate. In the scientific
study of religion, which now shows signs of becoming for
many a year an engrossing subject of the world’s thought,
the decision must not rest with a council in which the
theologian, the metaphysician, the biologist, the physicist,
exclusively take part. The historian and the ethnographer
must be called upon to show the hereditary standing of each
opinion and practice, and their enquiry must go back as far
as antiquity or savagery can show a vestige, for there seems
no human thought so primitive as to have lost its bearing
on our own thought, nor so ancient as to have broken its
connection with our own life.

It is our happiness to live in one of those eventful periods
of intellectual and moral history, when the oft-closed gates
of discovery and reform stand open at their widest. How
long these good days may last, we cannot tell. It may be
that the increasing power and range of the scientific method,
with its stringency of argument and constant check of fact,
may start the world on a more steady and continuous course
of progress than it has moved on heretofore. But if history
is to repeat itself according to precedent, we must look forward
to stiffer duller ages of traditionalists and commentators,
when the great thinkers of our time will be appealed
to as authorities by men who slavishly accept their tenets,
yet cannot or dare not follow their methods through better
evidence to higher ends. In either case, it is for those
// File: 461.png
.pn +1
among us whose minds are set on the advancement of
civilization, to make the most of present opportunities, that
even when in future years progress is arrested, it may be
arrested at the higher level. To the promoters of what is
sound and reformers of what is faulty in modern culture,
ethnography has double help to give. To impress men’s
minds with a doctrine of development, will lead them in all
honour to their ancestors to continue the progressive work
of past ages, to continue it the more vigorously because
light has increased in the world, and where barbaric hordes
groped blindly, cultured men can often move onward with
clear view. It is a harsher, and at times even painful, office
of ethnography to expose the remains of crude old culture
which have passed into harmful superstition, and to mark
these out for destruction. Yet this work, if less genial, is
not less urgently needful for the good of mankind. Thus,
active at once in aiding progress and in removing hindrance,
the science of culture is essentially a reformer’s
science.
// File: 462.png
.pn +1
// File: 463.png
.pn +1
.sp 4
.h2
INDEX.
// File: 464.png
.ix
Abacus, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 270.

Accent, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 173.

Acephali, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 390.

Achilles:—vulnerable spot, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 358; dream, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 444;
  in Hades, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #81#.

Acosta, on American archetypal deities, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #244#.

Adam, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #312#, #315#.

Ælian, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 372, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #423#;
  on Kynokephali, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 389.

Æolus, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 361, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #269#.

Æsculapius:—incubation in temple, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #121#;
  serpents of, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #241#.

Affirmative and negative particles, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 192.

Afghans, race-genealogy of, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 403.

Agni, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #281#, #386#.

Agreement in custom and opinion no proof of soundness, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 13.

Agriculture, god of, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #305#.

Ahriman, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #328#.

Ahura-Mazda, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #283#, #328#, #355#.

Alexander the Great, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 395, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #138#.

Alfonso di Liguori, <abbr=Saint>St.</abbr>, bilocation of, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 447.

Alger, <abbr rend=spell>W. R.</abbr>, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 471, 484, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #83#.

Algonquin languages, animate and inanimate genders, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 302.

Ali as Thunder-god, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #264#.

All Souls’, feast of dead, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #37#.

Allegory, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 277, 408.

Aloysius Gonzaga, <abbr=Saint>St.</abbr>, letters to, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #122#.

Alphabet, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 171;
  by raps, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 145;
  as numeral series, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 258.

Amatongo, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 443, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #115#, #131#, #313#, #367#, #387#.

Amenti, Egyptian dead-land, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #67#, #81#, #96#, #295#, #311#.

Amphidromia, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #439#.

Analogy, myth product of, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 297.

Ancestors, eponymic myths of, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 398, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #234#;
  worship of divine, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #113#, #311#;
  see #Manes-worship:index-manes-worship#, Totem-worship.

Ancestral names indicate re-birth of souls, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #5#.
// File: 465.png

Ancestral tablet, Chinese, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #118#, #152#.

Andaman Islanders, mythic origin of, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 369, 389.

Angang, omen from meeting animal, <abbr=one>i.</abbr>, 120.

Angel, see #Spirit:index-spirit#;
  of death, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 295, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #196#, #322#.

Angelo, <abbr=Saint>St.</abbr>, legend of, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 295.

Anima, animus, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 433, 470.

Animals:—omens from, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 120;
  calls to and cries of,  177;
  imitative names from cries, &c., 206;
  treated as human, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 467, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #230#;
  souls of, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 469;
  future life and funeral sacrifice of, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 469, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #75#, &c.;
  entry and transmigration of souls into and possession by spirits, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #7#, #152#, #161#, #175#, #231#, #241#, #378#, &c.;
  diseases transferred to, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #147#;
  see spirits invisible to men, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #196#.

Animals, sacred, incarnations or representatives of deities, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #231#;
  receive and consume sacrifices, #378#.

Animal-worship, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 467, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #229#, #378#.

<target id='index-animism'>Animism:—defined, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 23, 425;
  is the philosophy of religion, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 426, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #356#;
  is a primitive scientific system of man and nature based on the conception of the human soul, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 428, 499, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #108#, #184#, #356#;
  its stages of development, survival, and decline, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 499, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #181#, #356#.
  See #Soul:index-soul#, #Spirit:index-spirit#, &c., &c.

Anra-Mainyu, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #328#.

Antar, tumulus of, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #29#.

Anthropomorphic conceptions of spirit and deity, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #110#, #184#, #247#, #335#.

Antipodes, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 392.

<target id='index-ape'>Ape-men, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 379;
  apes degenerate men, 376;
  can but will not talk, 379.

Apollo, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #294#.

Apophis-serpent, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #241#.

Apotheosis, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #120#.
// File: 466.png

Apparitional soul, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 428;
  its likeness to body, 450.

Apparitions, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 143, 440, 445, 478, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #24#, #187#, #410#, &c.

Archetypal deities and ideas, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #243#.

Ares, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #308#.

Argos Panoptes, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 320.

Argyll, Duke of, on primæval man, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 60.
Arithmetic, see #Counting:index-counting#.

Arriero, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 191.

Arrows, magic, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 345.

Artemidorus, on dream-omens, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 122.

Artemis, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #302#.

Aryan race:—no savage tribe among, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 49;
  antiquity of culture, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 54.

Ascendant in horoscope, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 129.

Ashera, worship of, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #166#, #226#.

Ashes strewn for spirit-footprints, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 455. <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #197#.

Asmodeus, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #254#.

Association of ideas, foundation of magic, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 116.

Astrology, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 128, 291.

Atahentsic, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #299#, #309#, #323#.

Atahocan, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #323#, #340#.

Atavism, explained by transmigration, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #3#.

Atheist, use of word, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 420.

Augury, &c., <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 119. See <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #179#, #232#.

Augustine, <abbr=Saint>St.</abbr>, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 199, 441, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #54#, #427#;
  on dreams, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 441;
  on incubi, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #190#.

Augustus, genius of, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #202#.

Avatars, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #239#.

Avernus, Lake, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #45#.

Ayenbite of Inwyt, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 456.


Baal-Shemesh, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #295#.

Bacon, Lord, on allegory, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 277.

Bætyls, animated stones, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #166#.

Baku, burning wells of, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #281#.

Baldr, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 464.

Bale, Bishop, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 384;
  on witchcraft, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 142.

Bands, clerical, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 18.

Baptism, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #440#;
  orientation in, #427#.

Baring-Gould, <abbr rend=spell>S.</abbr>, on werewolves, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 314.

Bastian, Adolf, Mensch in der Geschichte, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=six>vi.</abbr>; <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #209#, #222#, #242#, #280#, &c.

Baudet, etymology of, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 413.

Beal, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #252#, #408#.

Bear, Great, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 359.

Beast-fables, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 381, 409.

Bees, telling, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 287.

Bel, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #293#, #380#, #384#.
// File: 467.png

Berkeley, Bishop, on ideas, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 499;
  on force and matter, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #160#.

Bewitching by objects, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 116.

Bible and key, ordeal by, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 128.

Bilocation, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 447.

Bird, of thunder, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 362;
  bird conveys spirit, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #161#, #175#.

Blackstone’s Commentaries, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 20.

Blemmyæ, headless men, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 390.

<target id='index-blood'>Blood:—related to soul, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 431;
  revives ghosts, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #48#;
  offered to deities, #381#;
  substitute for life, #402#.

Blood-red stain, myths to account for, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 406.

Bloodsuckers, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #191#.

Blow-tube, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 67.

Bo tree, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #218#.

Boar’s head, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #408#.

Boats without iron, myth on, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 374.

Bochica, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 353, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #290#.

Boehme, Jacob, on man’s primitive knowledge, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #185#.

Bolotu, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #22#, #62#, #310#.

Boni Homines, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 77.

Book of Dead, Egyptian, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #13#, #96#.

Boomerang, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 67.

Boreas, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 362, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #268#.

Bosjesman, etymology of word, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 381.

Bow and Arrow, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 7, 15, 64, 73.

Brahma, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #354#, #425#.

Brahmanism:—funeral rites, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 465, &c.;
  transmigration, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #9#, #19#, #97#;
  manes-worship, #119#;
  stone-worship, #164#;
  idolatry, #178#;
  animal-worship, #238#;
  sun-worship, #292#;
  orientation, #425#;
  lustration, #437#.

Breath, its relation to soul, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 432.

Bride-capture, game of, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 72.

Bridge, first crossing, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 106;
  of dead, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 495, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #50#, #94#, #100#, &c.

Brinton, <abbr rend=spell>D. G.</abbr>, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 53, 361, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #90#, #340#;
  on dualistic myths, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #320#.

Britain, eponymic kings of, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 400;
  voyage of souls to, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #64#.

Brosses, <abbr rend=spell>C.</abbr> de, on degeneration and development, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 36;
  origin of language, 161;
  fetishism, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #144#;
  species-deities, #246#.

Browne, Sir Thos., on magnetic mountain, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 375.

Brutus, evil genius of, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #203#.

Brynhild, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 465.

Buck, buck, game of, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 74.

Buddha, transmigrations of, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 414, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #11#.
// File: 468.png

Buddhism:—culture-tradition, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 41;
  saints rise in air, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 149;
  transmigration, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #11#, #20#, #97#;
  nirvana, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #79#;
  tree-worship, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 476, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #217#;
  serpent-worship, #240#;
  religious formulas, #372#.

Buildings, victim immured in foundation, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 104, &c.;
  mythic founders of, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 394.

Bull, Bishop, on guardian angels, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #203#.

Bura Pennu, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #327#, #350#, #368#, #404#.

Burial, ghost wanders till, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #27#;
  corpse laid east and west, #423#.

Burning oats from straw, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 44.

Burton, <abbr rend=spell>R. F.</abbr>, continuance-theory of future life, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #75#;
  disease-spirits, #150#.

Burton, Anatomy of Melancholy, incubi, &c., <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #191#.

Buschmann, on nature-sound, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 223.

Butler, Bishop, on natural religion, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #356#.


Cacodæmon, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #138#, #202#.

Cæsar, on German deities, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #294#.

Cagots, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 115, 384.

Calls to animals, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 177.

Calmet, on souls, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 457;
  on spirits, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #188#, &c.

Calumet, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 210.

Candles against demons, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #194#.

Cant, myth on word, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 397.

Cardinal numbers, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 257.

Cards, Playing, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 82, 126.

Cassava, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 63.

Castrén, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #80#, #155#, #177#, #245#, #351#, &c.

Cave-men, condition of, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 59.

Ceremonies, religious, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #362#, &c.

Ceres, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #306#.

Chances, games of, their relation to arts of divination, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 78.

Chanticleer, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 413.

Charivari at eclipse, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 329.

Charms:—objects, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 118, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #148#;
  formulas, their relation to prayers, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #373#.

Charon, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 490, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #93#.

Chesterfield, Lord, on customs, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 95;
  on omens, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 118.

Chic, myth on word, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 397.

Child-birth-goddess, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #305#.

Children, numerical series of names for, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 254;
  suckled by wild beasts, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 281;
  receive ancestors’ souls and names, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #4#;
  sacrifice of, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #398#, #403#.
// File: 469.png

Children’s language, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 223.

China, religion of:—funeral rites, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 464, 493;
  manes-worship, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #118#;
  cultus of heaven and earth, #257#, #272#, #352#;
  divine hierarchy, #352#;
  prayer, #370#;
  sacrifices, #385#, #405#.

Chinese culture-tradition, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 40;
  remains in Borneo, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 57.

Chiromancy or palmistry, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 125.

Chirp or twitter of ghosts, &c., <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 453.

Christmas, origin of, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #297#.

Chronology, limits of ancient, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 54.

Cicero, on dreams, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 444;
  sun-gods, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #294#.

Civilization, see #Culture:index-culture#.

Civilization-myths, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 39, 353.

Civilized men adopt savage life, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 45.

Clairvoyance, by objects, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 116.

Clashing rocks, myth of, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 347.

Clicks, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 171, 192.

Cocoa-nut, divination by, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 80.

Coin placed with dead, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 490, 494.

Columba, <abbr=Saint>St.</abbr>, legend of, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 104.

Columbus, his quest of Earthly Paradise, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #61#.

Common, right of, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 20.

Comparative theology, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #251#.

Comte, Auguste, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 19;
  fetishism, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 477, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #144#, #354#;
  species-deities, #242#.

Confucius, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 157;
  funeral sacrifice, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 464, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #42#;
  spirits, #206#;
  name of supreme deity, #352#.

Consonants, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 169.

Constellations, myths of, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 290, 356.

Continuance-theory of future life, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #75#.

Convulsions:—by demoniacal possession, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #130#;
  artificially produced, #416#.

Convulsionnaires, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #420#.

Copal incense, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #384#.

Cord, magical connexion by, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 117.

Corpse taken out by special opening in house, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #26#;
  soul remains near, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #29#, #150#.

Cortes, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 319.

Costume, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 18.

<target id='index-counting'>Counting, art of <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 22, 240, &c.;
  on fingers and toes, 244;
  by letters of alphabet, &c., 258;
  derivation of numeral words, 247;
  evidence of independent development of low tribes, 271.

Counting games, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 75, 87.

Couvade, in South India, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 84.
// File: 470.png

Cow, name of, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 208;
  purification by nirang, &c., <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #438#.

Cox, <abbr rend=spell>G. W.</abbr>, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 341, 346, 362.

Creator, doctrine of, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #249#, #312#, #321#, &c.

Credibility of tradition, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 275, 370.

Crete, earth of, fatal to serpents, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 372.

Cromlechs and menhirs objects of worship, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #164#.

<target id='index-culture'>Culture:—
  definition of, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 1;
  scale  of, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 26;
  primitive, represented by modern savages, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 21, 68, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #443#, &c.;
  development of, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 21, &c., 62, &c., 237, 270, 417, &c., <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #356#, #445#;
  evidence of independent progress from low stages, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 56, &c.;
  survival in culture, 70, &c.;
  evidence of early culture from language, 236;
  art of counting, 270;
  myth, 284;
  religion, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 500, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #102#, #184#, #356#, &c.;
  practical import of study of culture, #443#.

Curtius, Marcus, leap of, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #378#.

Curupa, cohoba, narcotic used in <abbr=west>W.</abbr> <abbr=Indies>Ind.</abbr> and <abbr='South America'>S. Amer.</abbr>, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #416#.

Customs, permanence of, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 70, 156;
  rational origin of, 94.

Customs of Dahome, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 462.

Cyclops, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 391.

Cyrus, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 281, 286.


Dancing for religious excitement, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #133#, #420#.

Danse Macabre, myth on name, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 397.

Dante, Divina Commedia, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #55#, #220#.

Daphne, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #220#.

Dark, evil spirits in, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #194#.

Darwin, Charles, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=seven>vii.</abbr>, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #152#, #223#.

Dasent, <abbr rend=spell>G. W.</abbr>, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 19.

Davenport Brothers, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 152, 311.

Dawn, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 338, &c.

Day, sun as eye of, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 350.

Day and Night, myths of, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 322, 337, &c., <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #48#, #323#.

Dead, use objects sacrificed for them, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 485;
  feasts of, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #29#;
  region of future life of, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #59#, #74#, #244#;
  god and judge of, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #75#, &c., #308#.

Deaf and Dumb, counting, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 244, 262;
  their mythic ideas, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 298, 413.

Death:—
  ascribed to sorcery, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 138;
  omens of, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 145, 449;
  angel of, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 295, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #196#, #332#;
  personification and myths of, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 295, 349, 355, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #46#, &c., #309#;
// File: 471.png
  death and sunset, myths of, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 335, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #48#;
  exit of soul at death, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 448, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #1#, &c.;
  death of soul, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #22#.

Death-watch, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 146.

Decimal notation, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 261.

Degeneration in culture, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 35, &c.;
  is a secondary action, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 38, 69;
  examples of, in Africa, North America, &c., <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 47.

Delphi, oracle of, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 94, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #138#.

Demeter, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 328, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #273#, #306#.

Democritus, theory of ideas, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 497.

<target id='index-demons'>Demons:—souls become, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #27#, #111#, &c.;
  iron, charm against, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 140;
  pervade world, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #111#, #137#, #185#, &c.;
  disease-demons, #126#, &c., #177#, #192#, #215#;
  water-demons, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 109, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #209#;
  tree and forest demons, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #215#, #222#;
  possession and obsession by demons, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 98, 152, 309, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #111#, #123#, &c., #179#, #404#;
  expulsion of, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 103, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #125#, #199#, #438#;
  answer in own name through patient or medium, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #124#, &c., #182#, #404#.

Dendid, creation-poem of, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #21#.

Deodand, origin of, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 20, 287.

Destruction of objects sacrificed to dead, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 483;
  to deities, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #376#, &c.

Development of culture, see #Culture:index-culture#.

Development myths, men from apes, &c., <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 376.

Devil:—as satyr, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 307;
  devils’ tree, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #148#;
  devil-dancers, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #133#;
  devil-worshippers, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #329#.

Dice, for divination and gambling, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 82.

Dies Natalis, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #202#, #297#.

Differential words, phonetic expression of distance and sex, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 220.

Dirge, Lyke-wake, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 495; of Ho, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #32#.

Disease:—personification and myths of, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 295;
  caused by exit of soul, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 436;
  by demoniacal possession, &c., <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 127, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #114#, #123#, #404#;
  disease-spirits, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #125#, &c., #178#, #215#, #408#;
  embodied in objects or animals, #146#, #178#, &c., see #Demons:index-demons#, #Vampires:index-vampires#.

Distance expressed by phonetic modification, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 220.

Divination:—lots, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 78;
  symbolic processes, 81, 117;
  augury, &c., 119;
  dreams, 121;
  haruspication, 124;
  swinging ring, &c., 126;
  astrology, 128;
  possessed objects, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 125, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #155#.
// File: 472.png

Divining rod and pendulum, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 127.

Doctrines borrowed by low from high races:—on future life, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #91#;
  dualism, #316#;
  supremacy, #333#.

Dodona, oak of, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #219#.

Dog-headed men, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 389.

Dolmens, &c., myths suggested by, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 387.

<lang=la>Domina Abundia</lang>, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #389#.

Dook, ghost, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 433.

D’Orbigny, on religion of low tribes, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 419;
  on sun-worship, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #286#.

Dravidian languages, high and low gender, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 302.

Dreams:—
  omens by, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 121;
  by contraries, 122;
  caused by exit of soul, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 440;
  by spiritual visit to soul, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 442, 478;
  evidence of future life, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #24#, #49#, #75#;
  oracular fasting for, #410#;
  narcotizing for, #416#.

Drift, stone implements from, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 58.

Drivers’ and Drovers’ words, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 180.

Drowning, superstition against rescuing from, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 107;
  caused by spirits, 109, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #209#.

Drugs used to produce morbid excitement, dreams, visions, &c., <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #416#.

Dual and plural numbers in primitive culture, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 265.

Dualism:—good and evil spirits, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #186#;
  good and evil genius, #202#;
  good and evil deity, #316#.

Dusii, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #190#.

Dwarfs, myths of, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 385.

Dyu, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #258#.


Earth, myths of, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 322, &c., 364, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #270#, #320#.

Earth-bearer, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 364.

Earth-goddess and earth-worship, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 322, &c., <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #270#, #306#, #345#.

Earth-mother, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 326, &c., 365.

Earthquake, myths of, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 364.

Earthly Paradise, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #57#, &c.

Earthly resurrection, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #5#.

<target id='index-east-west'>East and West, burial of dead, turning to in worship, adjusting temples toward, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #383#, #422#.

Easter fires and festivals, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #297#.

Eclipse, myths of, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 288, 329, 356;
  driving off eclipse monster, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 328.

Ecstasy, swoon, &c.:—
  by exit of soul, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 439:
  by demoniacal possession, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #130#;
  induced by fasting, drugs, excitement, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #410#, &c.

Edda, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 84, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #77#, &c.
// File: 473.png

Egypt, antiquity of culture, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 54;
  religion of, future life, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #13#, #96#;
  animal worship, #238#;
  sun-worship, #295#, #311#;
  dualism, #327#;
  polytheism and supremacy, #355#.

El, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #355#.

Elagabal, Elagabalus, Heliogabalus, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #295#, #398#.

Elements, worship of the four, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #303#.

Elf-furrows, myth of, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 393.

Elijah as thunder-god, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #264#.

Elysium, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #97#.

<target id='index-embodiment'>Embodiment of souls and spirits, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #3#, #123#, &c.

Emotional tone, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 166, &c.

Emphasis, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 173.

Endor, witch of, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 446.

Energumens or demoniacs, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #139#.

Englishman, Peruvian myth of, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 354.

Enigmas, Greek, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 93.

Enoch, Book of, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 408.

Enthusiasm, changed signification of, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #183#.

Epicurean theory of development of culture, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 37, 60;
  of soul, 456;
  of ideas, 497.

Epileptic fits by demoniacal possession, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #130#, #137#;
  induced, #419#.

Eponymic ancestors, &c., myths of, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 387, 398, &c., <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #235#.

Essence of food consumed by souls, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #39#;
  by deities, #381#.

Ethereal substance of soul, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 454;
  of spirit, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #198#.

Ethnological evidence from myths of monstrous tribes, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 379, &c.;
  from eponymic race-genealogies, 401.

Etiquette, significance of, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 95.

Etymological myths:—
  names of places, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 395;
  of persons, 396;
  nations, cities, &c., traced to eponymic ancestors or founders, 398, &c.

Euhemerism, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 279.

Evans, Sir John, on stone implements, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 65;
  Sebastian, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 106, 453.

Evil deity, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #316#, &c.;
  worshipped only, #320#.

Excitement of convulsions, &c., for religious purposes, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #133#, #419#.

Exeter, myth on name of, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 396.

Exorcism and expulsion of souls and spirits, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 102, 454, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #26#, #40#, #125#, &c., #146#, #179#, #199#, #438#.

Expression of feature causes corresponding tone, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 165, 183.
// File: 474.png

Expressive sound modifies words, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 215.

Ex-voto offering, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #406#, #409#.

Eye of day, of Odin, of Graiæ, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 350.


Fables of animals, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 381, 409.

Familiar spirits, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #199#.

Fancy, in mythology, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 315, 405.

Fasting for dreams and visions, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 306, 445, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #410#.

Fauns and satyrs, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #227#.

<target id='index-feast-of-dead'>Feasts of the dead, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #30#;
  sacrificial banquets, #395#.

Feralia, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #42#.

Fergusson, Jas., on tree-worship, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #218#;
  serpent-worship, #240#.

Fetch or wraith, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 448, 452.

Fetish, etymology of, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #143#.

<target id='index-fetishism'>Fetishism:—defined, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #143#;
  doctrine of, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 477, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #157#, &c., #175#, #205#, #215#, #270#, &c.;
  survival of, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #160#;
  its relation to philosophical theory of force, #160#;
  to nature-worship, #205#; to animal-worship, #231#;
  transition to polytheism, #243#;
  to supremacy, #335#;
  to pantheism, #354#.

Fiji and <abbr=South>S.</abbr> Africa, moon-myth common to, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 355.

Finger-joints cut off as sacrifice, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #400#.

Fingers and toes, counting on, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 242.

Finns, as sorcerers, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 84, 115.

Fire, passing through or over, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 85, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #281#, #429#, &c.;
  lighted on grave, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 484;
  drives off spirits, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #194#;
  new fire, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #278#, #290#, #297#, #432#;
  perpetual fire, #278#;
  sacrifice by fire, #383#, &c.

Fire-drill, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 15, 50;
  ceremonial and sportive survival of, 75, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #281#.

Fire-god and fire-worship, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #277#, #376#, &c., #403#.

Firmament, belief in existence of, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 299, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #70#.

First Cause, doctrine of, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #335#.

Food offered to dead, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 485, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #30#, &c.;
  to deities, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #397#;
  how consumed, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #39#, #376#.

Footprints of souls and spirits, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #197#.

Forest-spirits, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #215#, &c.

Formalism, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #363#, #371#.

Formulas:—prayers, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #371#;
  charms, #373#.

Fortunate Isles, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #63#.

Four winds, cardinal points, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 361.
// File: 475.png

Frances, <abbr=Saint>St.</abbr>, her guardian angels, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #203#.

French numeral series in English, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 268.

Fumigation, see #Lustration:index-lustration#.

Funeral procession:—
  horse led in, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 463, 474;
  kill persons meeting, 464.

Funeral sacrifice:—
  attendants and wives killed for service of dead, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 458;
  animals, 472;
  objects deposited or destroyed, 481;
  motives of, 458, 472, 483;
  survival of, 463, 474, 492;
  see #Feast of Dead:index-feast-of-dead#.

Future Life, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 419, 469, 480, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #1#, &c., #100#;
  transmigration of soul, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #2#;
  remaining on earth or departure to spirit-world, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #22#;
  whether races without belief in, #20#;
  connexion with evidence of senses in dreams and visions, #24#, #49#;
  locality of region of departed souls, #44#, #74#;
  visionary visits to, #46#;
  connexion of solar ideas with, #48#, #74#, #311#, #422#;
  character of future life, #74#;
  continuance-theory, #75#;
  retribution-theory, #83#;
  introduction of moral element, #10#, #83#;
  stages or doctrine of future life, #100#;
  its practical effect on mankind, #104#;
  god of the dead, #308#.


Gambling numerals, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 268.

Games:—
  children’s games related to serious occupations, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 72;
  counting-games, 74;
  games of chance related to arts of divination, 78.

Gataker, on lots, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 79.

Gates of Hades, Night, Death, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 347.

Gayatri, daily sun-prayer of Brahmans, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #292#.

Genders, distinguished as male and female, animate and inanimate, &c., <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 301.

Genghis-Khan, worshipped, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #117#.

Genius, patron or natal, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #199#, #216#;
  good and evil, #203#;
  changed signification of word, #181#.

German and Scandinavian mythology and religion:—
  funeral sacrifice, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 464, 491;
  Walhalla, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #79#, #88#;
  Hel, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 347, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #88#;
  Odin, Woden, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 351, 362, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #269#;
  Loki, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 83, 365;
  Thor, Thunder, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #266#;
  Sun and Moon, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 289, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #294#.

// File: 476.png
Gesture-language, and gesture accompanying language, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 163;
  effect of gesture on vocal tone, 165;
  gesture-counting original method, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 246.

Ghebers or Gours, fire-worshippers, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #282#.

Gheel, treatment of lunatics at, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #143#.

Ghost:—ghost-soul, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 142, 428, 433, 445, 488;
  seen in dreams and visions, 440, &c.;
  voice of, 452;
  substance and weight of, 453;
  of men, animals, and objects, 429, 469, 479;
  popular theory inconsistent and broken down from primitive, 479;
  ghost as harmful and vengeful demons, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #27#;
  ghosts of unburied wander, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #28#;
  ghosts remain near corpse or dwelling, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #29#, &c.;
  laying ghosts, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #153#, #194#.

Giants, myths of, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 386.

Gibbon, on development of culture, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 33.

Glanvil, Saducismus Triumphatus, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #140#.

Glass-mountain, Anafielas, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 492.

Godless month, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #350#.

Gods:—seen in vision, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 306;
  of waters, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #209#;
  of trees, groves, and forests, #215#;
  embodied in or represented by animals, #231#;
  gods of species, #242#;
  higher gods of polytheism, #247#, &c.;
  of dualism, #316#;
  gods of different religions compared, #250#;
  classified by common attributes, #254#.

Gog and Magog, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 386, &c.

Goguet, on degeneration and development, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 32.

Gold, worshipped, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #154#.

Good and evil, rudimentary distinction of, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #89#, #318#;
  good and evil spirits and dualistic deities, #317#.

Goodman’s croft, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #408#.

Graiæ, eye of, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 352.

Great Spirit, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #256#, #324#, #339#, #343#, #354#, #365#, #395#.

Great-eared tribes, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 388.

Greek mythology and religion:—nature-myths, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 320, 328, 349;
  funeral rites, 464, 490;
  future life, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #53#, #63#, &c.;
  nature-spirits and polytheism, #206#, &c.;
  Zeus, #258#, &c., #355#;
  Demeter, #273#, #306#;
  Nereus, Poseidon, #277#;
  Hephaistos, Hestia, #284#;
  Apollo, #294#;
  Hekate, Artemis, #302#;
  stone-worship, #165#;
  sacrifice, #386#, #396#;
  orientation, #426#;
  lustration, #439#.

Grey, Sir George, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 322.

Grote, George, on mythology, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 276, 400.

Grove-spirits, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #215#.

Guarani, name of, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 401.

Guardian spirits and angels, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #199#.

Gulf of dead, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #62#.

Gunthram, dream of <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 442.

Gypsies, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 49, 115.


<target id='index-hades'>Hades, under-world of departed souls, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 335, 340, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #65#, &c., #81#, #97#, #309#;
  descent into, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 340, 345, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #45#, #54#, #83#;
  personification of, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 340, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #55#, #309#, #311#.

Haetsh, Kamchadal, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #46#, #313#.

Hagiology, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #120#, #261#;
  rising in air, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 151;
  miracles, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 157, 371;
  second-sight, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 449;
  hagiolatry, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #120#.

Hair, lock of, as offering, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #401#.

Half-men, tribes of, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 391.

Haliburton, on sneezing-rite, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 103.

Hamadryad, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #215#.

Hand-numerals, from counting on fingers, &c., <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 246.

Hanuman, monkey-god, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 378.

Harakari, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 463.

Harmosios and Aristogeiton, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #63#.

Harpies, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #269#.

Harpocrates, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #295#.

Haruspication, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 123, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #179#.

Harvest-deity, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #305#, #364#, #368#.

Hashish, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #379#.

Head-hunting, Dayak, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 459.

Headless tribes, myths of, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 390.

Healths, drinking, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 96.

Heart, related to soul, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 431, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #152#.

Heaven, region of departed souls, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #70#.

Heaven and earth, universal father and mother, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 322, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #272#, #345#.

Heaven-god, and heaven-worship, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 306, 322, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #255#, &c., #337#, &c., #367#, #395#.

Hebrides, low culture in, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 45.

Hekate, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 150, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #302#, #418#.

Hel, death-goddess, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 301, 347, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #88#, #311#.

Hell, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #56#, #68#, #97#;
  related to Hades, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #74#, &c.;
  as place of torment, not conception of savage religion, #103#.

Hellenic race-genealogy, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 402.

Hellshoon, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 491.

Hephaistos, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #212#, #280#.

Hera, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #305#.
// File: 478.png

Herakles, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #294#;
  and Hesione, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 339.

Hermes Trismegistus, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #178#.

Hermotimos, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 439, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #13#.

Hero-children suckled by beasts, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 281.

Hesiod, Isles of Blest, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #63#.

Hestia, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #284#.

Hiawatha, poem of, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 345, 361.

Hide-boiling, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 44.

Hierarchy, polytheistic, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #248#, #337#, #349#, &c.

Hissing, for silence, contempt, respect, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 197.

History, relation of myth to, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 278, 416, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #447#;
  criticism of, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 280;
  similarity of nature-myth to, 320.

Hole to let out soul, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 453.

Holocaust, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #385#, #396#.

Holyoake, Holywood, &c., <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #229#.

Holy Sepulchre, Easter fire at, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #297#.

Holy water, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #188#, #439#.

Holy wells, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #214#.

Horne Tooke on interjections, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 175.

Horse, sacrificed or led at funeral, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 463, 473.

Horseshoes, against witches and demons, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 140.

House abandoned to ghost, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #25#.

Hucklesbones, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 82.

Huitzilopochtli, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #254#, #307#.

Human sacrifice:—funerals, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 458;
  to deities, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #271#, #385#, #389#, #398#, #403#.

Humbolt, <abbr rend=spell>W. v.</abbr>, on continuity, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 19;
  on language, 236;
  on numerals, 253.

Hume, Natural History of religion, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 477.

Huns, as giants, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 386.

Hunting-calls, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 181.

Hurricane, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 363.

Hyades, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 358.

Hysteria, &c., by possession, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #131#, &c.;
  induced, #419#.


Iamblichus, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 150, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #187#.

Ideas:—Epicurean related to object-souls, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 497;
  Platonic related to species-deities, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #244#.

Idiots, inspired, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #128#.

Idol, see #Image:index-images#.

Idolatry as related to fetishism, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #168#.

<target id='index-images'>Images:—fallen from heaven, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 157;
  as substitutes in sacrifice, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 463, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #405#;
  fed and treated as alive, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #170#;
  moving, weeping, sweating, &c., #171#;
  animated by spirits or deities, #172#.

Imagination, based on experience, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 273, 298, 304.

Imitative words, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 200;
  verbs, &c., of blowing, swelling, mumbling, spitting, sneezing, eating, &c., 203, &c.;
  names of animals, 206;
  names of musical instruments, 208;
  verbs, &c., of striking, cracking, clapping, falling, &c., 211;
  prevalence of imitative words in savage language, 212;
  imitative adaptation of words, 214.

Immateriality of soul, not conception of lower culture, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 456, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #198#.

Immortality of soul, not conception of lower culture, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #22#.

Implements, inventions of, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 64, &c.

Incas, myth of ancestry and civilization, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 288, 354, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #290#, #301#.

Incense, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #383#.

Incubi and succubi, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #189#.

Indigenes of low culture, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 50, &c.;
  considered as sorcerers, 113;
  myths of, as monsters, 376, &c.

Indo-Chinese languages, musical pitch of vowels, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 169.

Indra, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 320, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #265#.

Infant, lustration of, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #430#, &c.

Infernus, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #81#.

Innocent <abbr='the eighth'>VIII.</abbr>, bull against witchcraft, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 139, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #190#.

Inspiration, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #124#, &c.

Inspired idiot, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #128#.

Interjectional words:—verbs, &c. of wailing, laughing, insulting, complaining, fearing, driving, &c., <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 187;
  hushing, hissing, loathing, hating, &c., 197.

Interjections, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 175;
  sense-words used as, 176;
  directly expressive sounds, 183.

Intoxicating liquor, absence of, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 63.

Intoxication as a rite, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #417#.

Inventions, development of, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 14, 62;
  myths of, 39, 392.

Iosco, Ioskeha and Tawiscara, myth of, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 288, 348, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #323#.

Ireland, low culture in, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 44.

Iron, charm against witches, elves, &c., <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 140.

Islands, earth of, fatal to serpents, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 372;
  of Blest, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #57#.
// File: 480.png

Italian numeral series in English, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 268.


Jameson, Mrs., on parables, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 414.

Januarius, <abbr=Saint>St.</abbr>, blood of, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 157.

Jerome, <abbr=Saint>St.</abbr>, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #428#.

Jew’s harp, vowels sounded with, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 168.

John, <abbr=Saint>St.</abbr>, Midsummer festival of, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #298#.

Johnson, Dr., <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 6, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #24#.

Jonah, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 329.

Jones, Sir <abbr rend=spell>W.</abbr>, on nature deities, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #253#, #286#.

Joss-sticks, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #384#.

Journey to spirit-world, region of dead, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 481, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #44#, &c.

Judge of dead, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #92#, #314#.

Julius Cæsar, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 320.

Jupiter, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 350, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #258#, &c.


Kaaba, black stone of, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #166#.

Kalewala, Finnish epic, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #46#, #80#, #93#, #261#.

Kali, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #425#.

Kami-religion of Japan, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #117#, #301#, #350#.

Kang-hi on magnetic needle, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 375.

Kathenotheism, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #354#.

Keltic counting by scores continued in French and English, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 263.

Kepler on world-soul, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #354#.

Kimmerian darkness, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #48#.

Kissing, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 63.

Kitchi Manitu and Matchi Manitu, Great and Evil Spirit, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #324#.

Klemm, Gustav, on development of implements, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 64.

Kobong, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #235#.

Koran, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 407, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #77#, #296#.

Kottabos, game of, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 82.

Kronos swallowing children, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 341.

Kynokephali, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 389.


Lake-dwellers, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 61.

Language:—<abbr=one>i.</abbr> 17, 236, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #445#;
  directly expressive element in, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 160;
  correspondence of this in different languages, 163;
  interjectional forms, 175;
  imitative forms, 200;
  differential forms, 220;
  children’s language, 223;
  origin and development of language, 229;
  relation of language to mythology, 299;
  gender, 301;
  language attributed to birds, &c., 19, 469;
  place of language in development of culture, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #445#.
// File: 481.png

Langue d’oc, &c., <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 193.

Last breath, inhaling, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 433.

Laying ghosts, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #25#, #153#.

Legge, <abbr rend=spell>J.</abbr>, on Confucius, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #352#.

Leibnitz, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 2.

Lewes, <abbr rend=spell>G. H.</abbr>, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 497.

Liebrecht, Felix, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=seven>vii.</abbr>, 108, 177, 348-9, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #24#, #164#, #195#, &c.

Life caused by soul, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 436.

Light and darkness, analogy of good and evil, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #324#.

Likeness of relatives accounted for by re-birth of soul, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #3#.

<lang=la>Limbus Patrum</lang>, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #83#.

Linnæus, name of, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #229#.

Little Red Riding-hood, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 341.

Loki, 83, 365.

Lots, divination and gambling by, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 78.

Lubbock, Sir <abbr rend=spell>J.</abbr>:—
  evidence of metallurgy and pottery, against degeneration-theory, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 57;
  on low tribes described as without religious ideas, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 421;
  on water-worship, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #210#;
  on totemism, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #237#.

Lucian, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 149, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #13#, #52#, #67#, #302#, #426#.

Lucina, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #302#.

Lucretius, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 40, 60, 498.

Lunatics, demoniacal possession of, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #124#, &c.

<target id='index-lustration'>Lustration, by water and fire, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #429#, &c.;
  of new-born children, #430#;
  of women, #432#;
  of those polluted by blood or corpse, #433#;
  general, #434#, &c.

Luther, on witches, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 137;
  on guardian angels, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #203#.

Lyell, Sir <abbr rend=spell>C.</abbr>, on degeneration-theory, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 57.

Lying in state, of King of France, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #35#.

Lyke-wake dirge, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 495.


McLennan, <abbr rend=spell>J. F.</abbr>, theory of totemism, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #236#.

Macrocosm, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 350, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #354#.

Madness and idiocy by possession, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #128#, &c., #179#.

<target id='index-magic'>Magic:—
  origin and development, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 112, 132;
  belongs to low level of culture, 112;
  attributed to low tribes, 113;
  based on association of ideas, 116;
  processes of divination, 78, 118;
  relation to Stone Age, 127;
  see #Fetishism:index-fetishism#.

Magnetic Mountain, philosophical myth of, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 374.
// File: 482.png

Maistre, Count de, on degeneration in culture, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 35;
  astrology, 128;
  animation of stars, 291.

Makrokephali, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 391.

Malleus Maleficarum, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #140#, #191#.

Man, primitive condition of, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 21, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #443#;
  see #Savage:index-savage#.

Man of the woods, bushman, orang-utan, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 381.

Man swallowed by monster, nature-myth of, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 335, &c.

Manco Capac, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 354.

<target id='index-manes-worship'>Manes and manes-worship, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 98, 143, 434, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #8#, #111#, &c., #129#, #162#, #307#, #364#;
  theory of, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #113#, &c.;
  divine ancestor or first man as great deity, #311#, #347#.

Manichæism, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #14#, #330#.

Manitu, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #249#, #324#, #339#.

Manoa, golden city of, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #249#.

Manu, laws of:—ordeal by water, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 141;
  pitris, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #119#.

Marcus Curtius, leap of, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #378#.

Margaret, <abbr=Saint>St.</abbr>, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 340.

Markham, <abbr rend=spell>C. R.</abbr>, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=seven>vii.</abbr>, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #337#, #366#, #392#, &c.

Marriages in May, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 70.

Mars, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #308#.

Martius, Dr. <abbr rend=spell>V.</abbr>, on dualism, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #325#.

Maruts, Vedic, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 362, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #268#.

Mass, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #410#.

Master of life or breath, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #339#, #343#, #365#.

Materiality of soul, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 453;
  of spirit, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #198#.

Maui, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 335, 343, 360, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #253#, #267#, #279#.

Maundevile, Sir John, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 375, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #45#.

Medicine, of <abbr rend=spell>N. A.</abbr> Indians, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #154#, #200#, #233#, #372#, &c., #411#.

Meiners, History of Religions, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #27#, #48#, &c.

Melissa, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 491.

Men descended from apes, myths of, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 376;
  men with tails, 383.

Menander, guardian genius, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #201#.

Merit and demerit, Buddhist, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #12#, #98#.

Messalians, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 103.

Metaphor, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 234, 297;
  myths from, 405.

Metaphysics, relation of animism to, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 497, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #242#, #311#.

Metempsychosis, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 379, 409, 469, 476, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #2#;
  origin of, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #16#.

Micare digitis, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 75.

Middleton, Conyers, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 157, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #121#.
// File: 483.png

Midgard-snake, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #241#.

Midsummer festival, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #298#.

Milk and blood, sacrifices of, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #48#;
  see #Blood:index-blood#.

Milky Way, myths of, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 359, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #72#.

Mill, <abbr rend=spell>J. S.</abbr>, on ideas of number, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 240.

Milton, on eponymic kings of Britain, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 400.

Minne, drinking, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 96.

Minucius Felix, on spirits, &c., <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #179#.

Miracles, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 276, 371, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #121#.

Mithra, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 351, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #293#, #297#.

Moa, legend of, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #50#.

Mohammed, legend of, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 407.

Moloch, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #403#.

Money borrowed to be repaid in next life, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 491.

Monkeys, preserved as dwarfs, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 388;
  see #Apes:index-ape#.

Monotheism, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #331#.

Monster, driven off at eclipse, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 328;
  hero or maiden devoured by, 335.

Monstrous mythic human tribes, ape-like, tailed, gigantic and dwarfish, noseless, great-eared, dog-headed, &c., <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 376, &c.;
  their ethnological significance, 379, &c.

Month’s mind, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 83.

Moon:—
  omens and influence by changes, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 130;
  myths of, 288, 354;
  inconstant, 354;
  changes typical of death and new life, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 354, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #300#;
  moon-myths common to <abbr=South>S.</abbr> Africa and Fiji, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 354, and to Bengal and Malay Peninsula, 356;
  moon abode of departed souls, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #70#.

Moon-god and moon-worship, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 289, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #299#, &c., #323#.

Moral and social condition of low tribes, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 29, &c.

Moral element in culture, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 28;
  absent or scanty in lower religions, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 247, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #361#;
  divides lower from higher religions, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #361#;
  introduced in funeral sacrifice, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 495;
  in transmigration, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #12#;
  in future life, #85#, &c.;
  in dualism, #316#, &c.;
  in prayer, #373#;
  in sacrifice, #386#, &c.;
  in lustration, #429#.

Morals and law, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #448#.

Morbid imagination related to myth, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 305.

Morbid excitement for religious purposes, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #416#, &c.
// File: 484.png

Morning and evening stars, myths of, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 344, 350.

Morra, game of, in Europe and China, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 75.

Morzine, demoniacal possessions at, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 152, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #141#.

Mound-builders, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 56.

Mountain, abode of departed souls on, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #60#;
  ascending for rain, #260#.

Mouth of Night and Death, myths of, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 347.

Müller, <abbr rend=spell>J. G.</abbr>, on future life, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #90#, &c.

Müller, Max:—on language and myth, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 299;
  funeral rites of Brahmans, 466;
  heaven-god, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #258#, #353#;
  sun-myth of Yama, #314#;
  Chinese Religion, #352#;
  kathenotheism, #354#.

Mummies, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #19#, #34#, #151#.

Musical instruments named from sound, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 208.

Musical tone used in language, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 168, 174.

Mutilation of soul with body, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 451.

Mythology:—<abbr=one>i.</abbr> 23, 273, &c.;
  formation and laws of, 273, &c.;
  allegorical interpretation, 277;
  mixture with history, 278;
  rationalization, euhemerism, &c., 278;
  classification and interpretation, 281, 317, &c.;
  nature-myths, 284, 316, &c.;
  personification and animation of nature, 285;
  grammatical gender as related to, 301;
  personal names of objects as related to, 303;
  morbid delusion, 305;
  similarity of nature-myths to real history, 319;
  historical import of mythology, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 416, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #446#;
  its place in culture, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #446#;
  philosophical myths, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 366;
  explanatory legends, 392;
  etymological myths, 395;
  eponymic myths, 399;
  legends from fancy and metaphor, 405;
  realized or pragmatic legends, 407;
  allegory and parables, 408.

Myths:—myth-riddles, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 93;
  origin of sneezing-rite, 101;
  foundation-sacrifice, 104;
  heroes suckled by beasts, 281;
  sun, moon, and stars, 288, &c.;
  eclipse, 288;
  waterspout, 292;
  sand-pillar, 293;
  rainbow, 293, 297;
  waterfalls, rocks, &c., 295;
  disease, death, pestilence, 295;
  phenomena of nature, 297, 320;
  heaven and earth, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 322, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #345#;
  sunrise and sunset, day and night, death and life, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 335, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #48#, #62#, #322#;
  moon, inconstant, typical of death, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 353;
  civilization-legends, 39, 353;
  winds, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 361, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #266#;
  thunder, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 362, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #264#;
  men and apes, development and degeneration, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 378;
  ape-men, 379;
  men with tails, 382;
  giants and dwarfs, 385;
  monstrous men, 389;
  personal names introduced, 394;
  race-genealogies of nations, 402;
  beast-fables, 409;
  visits to spirit-world, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #46#, &c.;
  giant with soul in egg, #153#;
  transformation into trees, #219#;
  dualistic myth of two brothers, #320#.


Nagas, serpent-worshippers, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #218#, #240#.

Names:—
  of children in numerical series, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 254;
  of objects as related to myth, 303;
  of personal heroes introduced into myths, 394;
  of places, tribes, countries, &c., myths formed from, 396;
  ancestral names given to children, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #4#;
  name-giving ceremonials, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #429#.

Natural religion, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 427, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #103#, #356#.

Nature, conceived of as personal and animated, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 285, 478, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #184#.

Nature-deities, polytheistic, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #255#, #376#.

Nature-myths, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 284, 316, &c., 326.

Nature-spirits, elves, nymphs, &c., <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #184#, #204#, &c.

Necromancy, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 143, 312, 446;
  see #Manes:index-manes-worship#.

Negative and affirmative particles, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 192.

Negroes re-born as whites, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #5#.

Neo or Hawaneu, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #333#.

Neptune, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #276#.

Nereus, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #274#, #277#.

Neuri, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 313.

New birth of soul, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #3#.

Newton, Sir Isaac, on sensible species, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 498.

Nicene Council, spirit-writing at, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 148.

Nicodemus, Gospel of, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #54#.

Niebuhr, on origin of culture, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 41.

Night, myths of, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 334, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #48#, #61#.

Nightmare-demon, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #189#, #193#.

Nilsson, Sven, on development of culture, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 61, 64.

Nirvana, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #12#, #79#.
// File: 486.png

Nix, water-demon, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 110, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #213#.

Norns or Fates, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 352.

Noseless tribes, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 388.

<target id='index-notation'>Notation, arithmetical, quinary, decimal, vigesimal, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 261.

Numerals:—low tribes only to 3 or 5, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 242;
  derivation of numerals from counting fingers and toes, 246;
  from other significant objects, 251;
  series of number-names of children, 254;
  new formation of numerals, 255;
  etymology of, 259, 270;
  numerals borrowed from foreign languages, 266;
  initials of numerals, used as figures, 269;
  see #Notation:index-notation#.

Nympholepsy, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #137#.

Nymphs:—water-nymphs, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #212#;
  tree-nymphs, #219#, #227#.


Objectivity of dreams and visions, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 442, 479;
  abandoned, 500.

Objects treated as personal, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 286, 477, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #205#;
  souls or phantoms of objects, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 478, 497, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #9#;
  dispatched to dead by funeral sacrifice, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 481.

Occult sciences, see #Magic:index-magic#.

<target id='index-odin'>Odin, or Woden, as heaven-god, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 351, 362, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #269#;
  one-eyed, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 351.

Odysseus, unbinding of, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 153;
  descent to Hades, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 346, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #48#, #65#.

Ohio, Ontario, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 190.

Ojibwa, myth of, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 345, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #46#.

Oki, demon, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #208#, #255#, #342#.

Old man of sea, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #277#.

Omens, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 97, 118, &c., 145, 449.

Omophore, Manichæan, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 365.

One-eyed tribes, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 391.

Oneiromancy, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 121.

Opening to let out soul, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 453.

Ophiolatry, see #Serpent-worship:index-serpent#.

Ophites, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #242#.

Oracles, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 94, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #411#;
  by inspiration or possession, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #124#, &c., #179#.

Orang-utan, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 381.

Orcus, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #67#, #80#.

Ordeal by fire, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 85;
  by sieve and shears, 128;
  by water, 140;
  by bear’s head, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #231#.

Ordinal numbers, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 257.

Oregon, Orejones, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 389.

Orientation, solar rite or symbolism, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #422#.

Origin of language, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 231;
  numerals, 247.

Orion, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 358, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #81#.

Ormuzd, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #283#, #328#.

Orpheus and Eurydike, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 346, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #48#.
// File: 487.png

Osiris, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #67#, #295#;
  and Isis, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 289.

Otiose supreme deity, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #320#, #336#, &c.

Outcasts, distinct from savages, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 43, 49.

Owain, Sir, visit to Purgatory, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #56#.


Pachacamac, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #337#, #366#.

Pandora, myth of, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 408.

Panotii, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 389.

Pantheism, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #332#, #341#, #354#.

Papa, mamma, &c., <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 223.

Paper figures substitutes in sacrifice, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 464, 493, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #405#.

Parables, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 411.

Pars pro toto in sacrifice, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #399#.

Parthenogenesis, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #190#, #307#.

Particles, affirmative and negative, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 192;
  of distance, 220.

<lang=fr>Passage de l’Enfer</lang>, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #65#.

Patrick, <abbr=Saint>St.</abbr>, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 372;
  his Purgatory, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 45, 55.

Patroklos, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 444, 464.

Patron saints, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #120#;
  patron spirits, #199#.

Pattern and matter, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #246#.

Pennycomequick, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 396.

Periander, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 491.

Perkun, Perun, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #266#.

Persephone, myth of, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 321.

Perseus and Andromeda, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 339.

Persian race-genealogy, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 403.

Personal names, in mythology, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 303, 394, 396.

Personification:—natural phenomena, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 28, &c., 320, 477, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #205#, #254#;
  disease, death, &c., <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 295;
  ideas, 300;
  tribes, cities, countries, &c., 339;
  Hades, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 339, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #55#.

Pestilence, personification and myths of, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 295.

Peter and Paul, Acts of, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 372.

Petit bonhomme, game of, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 77.

Petronius Arbiter, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 75, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #261#.

Philology, Generative, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 198, 230.

Philosophical myths, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 368.

Phrase-melody, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 174.

Pillars of Hercules, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 395.

Pipe, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 208.

Pithecusæ, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 377.

Places, myths from names of, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 395.

Planchette, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 147.

Plants, souls of, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 474.

Plath, on Chinese religion, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #352#, &c.

Plato, on transmigration, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #13#;
  Platonic ideas, #244#.

Pleiades, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 291, 358.
// File: 488.png

Pliny on magic, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 133;
  on eclipses, 334.

Plurality of souls, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 433.

Plutarch, visits to spirit-world, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #53#.

Pneuma, psyche, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 433, &c.

Pointer-facts, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 62.

Polytheism, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #247#, &c.;
  based on analogy of human society, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #248#, #337#, #349#, #352#;
  classification of deities by attributes, #255#;
  heaven-god, #255#, #334#, &c.;
  rain-god, #259#;
  thunder-god, #262#;
  wind-god, #266#;
  earth-god, #270#;
  water-god, #274#;
  sea-god, #275#;
  fire-god, #277#;
  sun-god, #286#, #335#, &c.;
  moon-god, #299#;
  gods of childbirth, agriculture, war, &c., #304#;
  god and judge of dead, #308#;
  first man, divine ancestor, #311#;
  evil deity, #316#;
  supreme deity, #332#;
  relation of polytheism to monotheism, #331#.

<target id='index-popular'>Popular rhymes, &c., <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 86;
  sayings, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 19, 83, 122, 313, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #268#, #353#.

Poseidon, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 365, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #277#, #378#.

Possession and obsession, see #Demons:index-demons#, #Embodiment:index-embodiment#.

Pott, <abbr rend=spell>A. F.</abbr>, on reduplication, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 219;
  on numerals, 261.

Pottery, evidence from remains, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 56;
  absence of potter’s wheel, 45, 63.

Pozzuoli, myth of subsidence of, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 372.

Pragmatic or realized myths, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 407.

Prayer:—
  doctrine of, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #364#, &c.;
  relation to nationality, #371#;
  introduction of moral element, #373#;
  prayers, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 98, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #136#, #208#, #261#, #280#, #292#, #329#, #338#, #364#, &c., #435#;
  rosary, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #372#;
  prayer-mill and prayer-wheel, #372#.

Prehistoric archæology, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 55, &c.; <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #443#.

Priests consume sacrifices, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #379#.

Prithivi, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 327, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #258#, #272#.

Procopius, voyage of souls to Britain, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #64#.

Progression in culture, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 14, 32;
  inventions, 62, &c.;
  language, 236;
  arithmetic, 270;
  philosophy of religion, see #Animism:index-animism#.

Prometheus, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 365, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #400#.

Proverbs, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 84, &c.;
  see #Popular Sayings:index-popular#.

Psychology, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 428.

Pupil of eye, related to soul, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 431.

Purgatory, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #68#, #92#;
  <abbr=Saint>St.</abbr> Patrick’s, #55#.
// File: 489.png

Purification, see #Lustration:index-lustration#.

Puss, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 178.

Pygmies, myths of, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 385;
  connected with dolmens, 387;
  monkeys as, 388.

Pythagoras, metempsychosis, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #13#.


Quaternary period, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 58.

Quetelet, on social laws, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 11.

Quinary numeration and notation, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 261;
  in Roman numeral letters, 263.


Races:—
  distribution of culture among, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 49;
  culture of mixed races, Gauchos, &c., 46, 52;
  ethnology in eponymic genealogies, 401;
  moral condition of low races, 26;
  considered as magicians, 113;
  as monsters, 380.

Rahu and Ketu, eclipse-monsters, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 379.

Rain-god, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #254#, #259#.

Rainbow, myths of, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> vii. 293, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #239#.

Ralston, <abbr rend=spell>W. R.</abbr>, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 342, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #245#, &c.

Rangi and Papa, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 322, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #345#.

Rapping, omens and communications by, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 144, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #221#.

Rationalization of myths, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 278.

Red Swan, myth of, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 345.

Reduplication, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 219.

Reid, Dr., on ideas, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 499.

Relics, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #150#.

Religion, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 22, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #357#, #449#;
  whether any tribes without, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 417;
  accounts misleading among low tribes, 419;
  rudimentary definition of, 424;
  adoption from foreign religions, future life, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #91#;
  ideas and names of deities, #254#, #309#, #331#, #344#;
  dualism, #316#, #322#;
  supreme deity, #333#;
  natural religion, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 427, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #103#, #356#.

Resurrection, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #5#, #18#.

Retribution-theory of future life, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #83#;
  not conception of lower culture, #83#.

Return and restoration of soul, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 436.

Revival, in culture, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 136, 141.

Revivals, morbid symptoms in religious, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #421#.

Reynard the Fox, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 412.

Riddles, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 90.

Ring, divination by swinging, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 126.

Rising in air, supernatural, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 149, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #415#.
// File: 490.png

Rites, religious, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #362#, &c.

River of death, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 473, 480, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #23#, #29#, #51#, #94#.

River-gods and river-worship, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #209#.

River-spirits, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 109, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #209#, #407#.

Rock, spirit of, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #207#.

Roman mythology and religion:—funeral rites, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #42#;
  future life, #45#, #67#, #81#;
  nature-spirits, #220#, #227#;
  polytheism, #251#;
  Jupiter, #258#, #265#;
  Neptune, #277#;
  Vesta, #285#;
  Lucina, #302#, &c.

Roman numeral letters, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 263.

Romulus, patron deity of children, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #121#;
  and Remus, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 281.

Rosary, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #372#.


Sabæism, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #296#.

Sacred springs, streams, &c., <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #209#;
  trees and groves, #222#;
  animals, #234#, #378#.

Sacrifice:—origin and theory of, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #375#, &c., #207#, #269#;
  manner of consumption or reception by deity, #216#, #376#, &c., see #39#;
  motive of sacrificer, #393#, &c.;
  substitution, #399#;
  survival, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 76, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #214#, #228#, #406#.

Saint-Foix, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 474, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #35#.

Saints, worship of, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #120#.

Samson’s riddle, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 93.

Sanchoniathon, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #221#.

Sand-pillar, myths of, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 293.

Sanskrit roots, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 197, 224.

Savage, man of woods, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 382.

<target id='index-savage'>Savage culture as representative of primitive culture:—<abbr=one>i.</abbr> 21, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #443#;
  magic, witchcraft, and spiritualism, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 112, &c.;
  language, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 236, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #445#;
  numerals, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 242;
  myth, 284, 324;
  doctrine of souls, 499;
  future life, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #102#;
  animistic theory of nature, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 285, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #180#, #356#;
  polytheism, #248#;
  dualism, #317#;
  supremacy, #334#;
  rites and ceremonies, #363#, #375#, #411#, #421#, #429#.

Savitar, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #292#.

Scalp, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 460.

Scores, counting by, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 263.

Sea, myths of, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #275#.

Sea-god and sea-worship, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #275#, #377#.

Second death, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #22#.

Second sight, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 143, 447.

Semitic race, no savage tribe among, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 49;
  antiquity of culture, 54;
  race-genealogy, 404.
// File: 491.png

Sennaar, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 395.

Serpent emblem of immortality and eternity, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #241#.

<target id='index-serpent'>Serpent-worship, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #8#, #239#, #310#, #347#.

Sex distinguished by phonetic modification, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 222.

Shadow related to soul, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 430, 435;
  shadowless men, 85, 430.

Shell-mounds, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 61.

Sheol, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #68#, #81#;
  gates of, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 347.

Shingles, disease, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 307.

Shoulder-blade, divination by, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 124.

Sieve and shears, oracle by, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 128.

Silver at new moon, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #302#.

Sing-bonga, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #291#, #350#.

Skylla and Charybdis, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #208#.

Slaves sacrificed to serve dead, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 458.

Sling, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 73.

Snakes, destroyed in Ireland, &c., <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 372.

Sneezing, salutation on, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 97;
  connected with spiritual influence, 97.

Social rank retained in future life, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #22#, #84#.

Sokrates, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #137#, #294#;
  demon of #202#;
  prayer of, #373#.

Soma, Haoma, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #418#.

<target id='index-soul'>Soul, doctrine of, definition and general course in history, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 428, 499;
  cause of life, 428;
  qualities as conceived by lower races, 428;
  conception of, related to dreams and visions, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 429, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #24#, #410#;
  related to shadow, heart, blood, pupil of eye, breath, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 430;
  plurality or division of, 434;
  exit of, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 309, 438, &c., 448, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #50#;
  restoration of, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 436, 475;
  trance, ecstasy, 439;
  dreams, 440;
  visions, 445;
  soul not visible to all, 446;
  likeness to body, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 450;
  mutilated with body, 451;
  voice, a whisper, chirp, &c., 452;
  material substance of soul, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 453, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #198#;
  ethereality not immateriality of, in lower culture, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 456;
  human souls transmitted by funeral sacrifice to future life, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 458, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #31#;
  souls of animals, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 467, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #41#;
  their future life and transmission by funeral sacrifice, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 469;
  souls of plants, trees, &c., <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 474, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #10#;
  souls of objects, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 476, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #9#, #75#, #153#, &c.;
  transmission by funeral sacrifice, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 481;
  conveyed or consumed in sacrifice to deities, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #216#, #389#;
// File: 492.png
  object-souls related to ideas, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 497;
  existence of soul after death of body, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 428, &c., <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #1#, &c.;
  transmigration or metempsychosis, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #2#;
  new birth in human body, #3#;
  in animal body, plant, inert object, #9#, &c.;
  souls remain on earth among survivors, near dwelling, corpse, or tomb, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 148, 447, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #25#, &c., #150#;
  souls called up by necromancer or medium, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 143, 312, 446, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #136#, &c.;
  food set out for, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #30#, &c.;
  region of departed souls, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #59#, &c., #73#, #244#;
  future life of, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 458, &c., <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #74#, &c.;
  relation of soul to spirit in general, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #109#;
  souls pass into demons, patron-spirits, deities, #111#, #124#, #192#, #200#, #364#, #375#;
  manes-worship, #112#, &c.;
  souls embodied in men, animals, plants, objects, #147#, #153#, #192#, #232#;
  mystic meaning of word soul, #359#.

Soul of world, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #335#, &c., #354#.

Soul-mass cake, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #43#.

Sound-words, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 231.

Speaking machine, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 170.

Spear-thrower, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 66.

Species-deities, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #242#.

Spencer and Gillen, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #236#.

Sphinx, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 90.

<target id='index-spirit'>Spirit:—course of meaning of word, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 433, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #181#, #206#, #359#;
  animism, doctrine of spirits, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 424, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #108#, #356#;
  doctrine of spirit founded on that of soul, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #109#;
  spirits connected and confounded with souls, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #109#, #363#;
  spirits seen in dreams and visions, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 306, 440, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #154#, #189#, #194#, #411#;
  action of spirits, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 125, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #111#, &c.;
  embodiment of spirits, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #123#;
  disease by attack of, #126#;
  oracular inspiration by, #130#;
  whistling, &c., voice of, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 453, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #135#;
  act through fetishes, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #143#, &c.;
  through idols, #167#;
  spirits causes of nature, #185#, #204#, &c., #250#;
  good and evil spirits, #186#, #319#;
  spirits swarm in dark, fire drives off, #194#;
  seen by animals, #196#;
  footprints of, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 455, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #197#;
  ethereal-material substance of, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #198#;
  exclusion, expulsion, exorcism of, #125#, #199#;
  patron, guardian, and familiar spirits, #199#;
  nature-spirits of volcanoes, whirlpools, rocks, &c., #207#;
  water-spirits and deities, #209#, #407#;
  tree-spirits and deities, #215#;
  spirits subordinate to great polytheistic deities, #248#, &c.;
  spirits receive prayer, #363#;
  sacrifice, #75#;
  see #Animism:index-animism#, &c.

Spirit, Great, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #256#, #324#, #339#, &c., #354#, #365#, #395#.

Spirit-footprints, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 455, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #197#.

Spiritualism, modern:—
  its origin in savage culture, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 141, 155, 426, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #25#, #39#;
  spirit-rapping, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 144, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #193#, #221#, #407#;
  spirit-writing, #147#;
  rising in air, #149#;
  supernatural unbinding, #153#;
  moving objects, &c., <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 439, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #156#, #319#, #441#;
  mediums, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 146, 312, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #132#, #410#;
  oracular possession, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 148, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #135#, #141#.

Spirit-world, journey or visit to, by soul, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 439, 481, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #44#, &c.

Spitting, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 103;
  lustration with spittle, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #439#, #441#.

Standing-stones, objects of worship, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #164#.

Stanley, <abbr rend=spell>A. P.</abbr>, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #387#.

Stars, myths of, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 288, 356;
  souls of, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 291.

Staunton, William, his visit to Purgatory, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #58#.

Stock-and-stone-worship, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #161#, &c., #254#, #388#.

Stone, myths of men turned to, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 353;
  stone-worship, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #160#, &c., #254#, #388#.

Stone Age, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 56, &c.;
  magic as belonging to, 140;
  myths of giants and dwarfs as belonging to, 385.

Storm, myths of, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 322;
  storm-god, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 323, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #266#.

Strut, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 62.

Substitutes in sacrifice, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 106, 463, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #399#, &c.

Succubi, see Incubi.

Sucking cure, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #146#.

Suicide, body of, staked down, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #29#, #193#.

Sun, myths of, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 288, 319, 335, &c., <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #48#, #66#, #323#;
  sunset, myths of, connected with death and future life, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 335, 345, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #48#, &c., #311#;
  sun abode of departed souls, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #69#.

Sun-god and sun-worship, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 99, 288, 353, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #263#, #285#, #323#, &c., #376#, &c., #408#, #422#, &c.;
  sun and moon as good and evil deity, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #324#, &c.

Superlative, triple, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 265.

Superstition, case of survival, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 16, 72, &c.

Supreme deity, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #332#, #367#;
  heaven-god, &c., as, #255#, #337#, &c.;
  sun-god as, #290#, #337#, &c.;
  conception of, in manes-worship, #334#;
  as chief of divine hierarchy, #335#, &c.;
  first cause, #335#.

Survival in culture, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 16, &c., 70, &c., <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #403#;
  children’s games, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 72;
  games of chance, &c., 78;
  proverbs, 89;
  riddles, 91;
  sneezing-salutation, 98;
  foundation-sacrifice, 104;
  not save drowning, 108;
  magic, witchcraft, &c., 112;
  spiritualism, 141;
  numeration, 262, 271;
  deodand, 287;
  were-wolves, 313;
  eclipse-monster, 330;
  animism, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 500, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #356#;
  funeral sacrifice, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 463, 474, 492;
  feasts of dead, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #35#, #41#;
  possession, #140#;
  fetishism, #159#;
  stone-worship, #168#;
  water-worship, #213#;
  fire-worship, #285#;
  sun-worship, #297#;
  moon-worship, #302#;
  heaven-worship, #353#;
  sacrifice, #406#, &c.

Susurrus necromanticus, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 453, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #135#.

Suttee, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 465.

Swedenborg, spiritualism of, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 144, 450, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #18#, #204#.

Symbolic connexion in magic, &c., <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 116, &c., <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #144#;
  symbolism in religious ceremony, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #362#, &c.

Symplegades, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 350.


Tabor, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 209.

Tacitus, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 333, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #228#, #273#.

Tailed men, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 383.

Tangaroa, Taaroa, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #345#.

Tari Pennu, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #271#, #349#, #368#, #404#.

Taronhiawagon, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #256#, #309#.

Tarots, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 82.

Tartarus, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #97#.

Tatar race, culture of, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 51;
  race-genealogy of, 404.

Tattooing, mythic origin of, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 393.

Taylor, Jeremy, on lots, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 79.

Teeth-defacing, mythic origin of, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 393.

Temple, Jewish, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #426#.

Tertullian, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 456, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #188#, #427#.

Tezcatlipoca, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #197#, #344#, #391#.

Theodorus, <abbr=Saint>St.</abbr>, church of, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #121#.

Theophrastus, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #165#.

Theresa, <abbr=Saint>St.</abbr>, her visions, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #415#.

Thor, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #266#.

Thought, conveyance of, by vocal tone, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 166;
  Epicurean theory of, 497;
  savage conception of, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #311#.

Thousand and One Nights:
  —water-spout and sand-pillar, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 292;
  Magnetic Mountain, 374;
  Abdallah of Sea and Abdallah of Land, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #106#.

Thunder-bird, myths of, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 363, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #262#;
  thunder-bolt, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #262#.

Thunder-god, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #262#, #305#, #312#, #337#, &c.

Tien and Tu, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #257#, #272#, #352#.

Tlaloc, Tlalocan, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #61#, #274#, #309#.

Tobacco smoked as sacrifice or incense, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #287#, #343#, #383#;
  to cause morbid vision, &c., #417#.

Torngarsuk, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #340#.

Tortoise, World, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 364.

Totem-ancestors, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 402, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #235#;
  totemism, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #235#.

Traditions, credibility of, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 275, 280, 370;
  of early culture, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 39, 52.

Transformation-myths, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 308, 377, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #10#, #220#.

Transmigration of souls, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 379, 409, 469, 476, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #2#, &c.;
  theory of, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #16#.

Trapezus, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 396.

Trees, objects suspended to, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #150#, #223#.

Tree-souls, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 475, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #10#, #215#;
  tree-spirits, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 476, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #148#, #215#.

Tribe-names, mythic ancestors, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 398;
  tribe-deities, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #234#.

Tribes without religion, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 417.

Tuckett, <abbr rend=spell>F. F.</abbr>, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 373.

Tumuli, remains of funeral sacrifice in, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 486.

Tupan, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #263#, #305#, #333#.

Turks, race-genealogy of, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 403.

Turnskins, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 308, &c.

Twin brethren, <abbr rend=spell>N. A.</abbr> dualistic myth, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #320#, &c.

Two paths, allegory of, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 409.


Uiracocha, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #338#, #366#.

Ukko, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #257#, #261#, #265#.

Ulster, mythic etymology of, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #65#.

Unbinding, supernatural, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 153.

Under-world, sun and souls of dead descend to, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #66#;
  see #Hades:index-hades#.

Unkulunkulu, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #116#, #313#, #347#.


<target id='index-vampires'>Vampires, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #191#.

Vapour-bath, narcotic, of Scyths and <abbr rend=spell>N. A.</abbr> Indians, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #417#.

Vasilissa the Beautiful, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 342.

Vatnsdæla Saga, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 439.

Veda, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 54, 351, 362, 465, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #72#, #265#, #281#, #354#, #371#, #386#.

Vegetal, sensitive, and rational souls, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 435.

Ventriloquism, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 453, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #132#, #182#.
// File: 496.png

Vergil, Polydore, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #409#.

Versipelles, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 308, &c.

Vesta, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #285#.

Vigesimal notation, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 261;
  survival in French and English, 263.

Visions:—
  mythic fancy in, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 305;
  are apparitions of spirits, 143, 445, 478, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #194#, #410#;
  as evidence of future life, #24#, #49#;
  fasting for, #410#;
  use of drugs to cause, #416#.

Visits to spirit-world, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 436, 481, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #46#, &c.

Vitruvius, on orientation, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #427#.

Vocal tone, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 166, &c.

Voice of ghosts and other spirits, whisper, twitter, murmur, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 452, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #134#.

Volcano, mouth of underworld, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 344, 364, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #69#;
  caused by spirits, #207#.

Vowels, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 168.

Vulcan, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #280#, #284#.


Wainamoinen, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #46#, #93#.

Waitz, Theodor, Anthropologie der Naturvölker, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> <abbr=six>vi.</abbr>;
  fetishism, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #157#, #176#.

Walhalla, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 491, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #77#, #88#.

War-god, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #306#.

Warriors, fate of souls of, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #87#.

Wassail, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 97, 101.

Water, spirits not cross, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 442.

Waterfalls and waterspouts, myths, of, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 292, 294.

Water-gods and water-worship, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #209#, #274#, #376#, #407#.

Water-spirits and water-monsters, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 109, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #208#, &c.

Watling Street, Milky Way, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 360.

Weapons, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 64, &c.;
  personal names given to, 303.

Wedgwood, Hensleigh, on imitative language, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 161.

Weight of soul, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 455;
  of spirit, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #198#.

Well-worship, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #209#, &c.
// File: 497.png

Werewolves, &c., doctrine of, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 113, 308, &c., 435, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #193#.

West, mythic conceptions of, as region of night and death, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 337, 343, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #48#, #61#, #66#, #311#, &c., #422#, &c.;
  see #East and West:index-east-west#.

Whately, Archbishop, on origin of culture, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 38, 41.

Wheatstone, Sir <abbr rend=spell>C.</abbr>, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 170.

Wheel-lock, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 15.

Whirlpool, spirit of, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #207#.

Widow-sacrifice, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 458.

Wild Hunt, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 362, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #269#.

Wilson, Daniel, on dual and plural, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 265.

Wind gods, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #266#.

Winds, myths of, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 360.

Witchcraft, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 116, &c.;
  origin in savage culture, 138;
  mediæval revival, 138;
  iron charm against, 140;
  ordeal by water, 140;
  rising in air, 152;
  doctrine of werewolves, 312;
  incubi and succubi, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #190#;
  witch ointment, #418#.

Woden, see #Odin:index-odin#.

Wolf of Night, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 341.

Wong, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #176#, #205#, #348#.

World pervaded by spirits, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #137#, #180#, #185#, #205#, #250#.

Worship as related to belief, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 427, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #362#.

Wraith or fetch, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 448, 451.

Wright, Thomas, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #56#, #65#.

Wuttke, Adolf, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 456, &c.


Xerxes, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 286, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #378#.


Yama, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #54#, #314#.

Yawning, possession, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 102.

Yezidism, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #329#.


Zend-Avesta, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 116, 351, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #98#, #293#, #328#, #438#.

Zeus, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 328, 350, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #258#, &c., #353#.

Zingani, myth of name, <abbr=one>i.</abbr> 400.

Zoroastrism, <abbr=two>ii.</abbr> #20#, #98#, #282#, #319#, #328#, #354#, #374#, #400#, #438#.
.ix-
// File: 498.png

THE END.

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