Chapter II: THE PERSONAL RITES, those for the benefit of the individual, will (2)

It is possible that the oldest known examples, scratched with a flint on the bones of reindeers dug up in the caves of southern France, may represent the totems or deified heroes of the clan. Certain it is that a class of symbolic figures, which recur the world over, often dating from remote ages, such as the crescent, the cross, the svastika, the triskeles, the circle, and the square, were of religious intention, and conveyed mystic knowledge or supernatural protection in the opinion of those who drew them.

The early cultivation of painting in religious art arose chiefly from the symbolism of colours, to which I previously made a passing allusion. Its origin was in the effect which certain hues have upon the mind, either specifically or from association. Colour-symbolism, indeed, forms a prominent feature in nearly every primitive religion. The import of the different colours varies, but not to the degree which excludes some general tendencies. The white and the blue are usually of cheerful and peaceful signification, the black and the red are ominous of strife and darkness. In many tribes the yellow bore the deepest religious meaning. The Mayas of Yucatan assigned it to the dawn and the east; and when the Aztecs gathered around the dying bed of one they loved, and raised their voices in the paean which was to waft the soul to its higher life beyond the grave, they sang: “Already does the dawn appear, the light advances. Already do the birds of yellow plumage tune their songs to greet thee.”

These symbolic colours are those with which the early temples were tinted and the rude images of the gods stained. They were rarely harmonious, but they were effective, and appealed to the people for whom they were intended. Their preparation and their technical employment were improved, and, as the art advanced, it reacted on the religion, directing its conceptions of divinity into higher walks and toward nobler ideals.

Art in line and colour is of vast antiquity, probably preceding that in shape or form, carving or sculpture. But this, too, we find was fairly understood by the cave-dwellers of France and Switzerland at a time when the great glacier still covered a good part of the European continent, and there is scarcely a savage tribe to-day that does not make some rude attempts at carving the images of its deities.

A natural object which has a chance resemblance to a man or beast is chosen as a fetish, and the worshipper by chipping or rubbing increases slightly the likeness. This is the infancy of the sculptor’s art, and it is usually for a religious purpose that it is exercised. Soon it is developed, and in stone, or bone, or wood, in baked clay, or rags, or leaves, we find thousands of effigies in use to represent the tutelary deities and the other denizens of the supernatural world.

So prominent was the early progress of religious art in this direction that it gave the name to early religion itself. It was distinctly “idolatry,” or “image worship,” the objective expression overwhelming the inward sentiment.

Its excess in this direction led to reactions and protests as long ago as the dawn of history. “Thou shalt not make to thyself any graven image, nor the likeness of anything,” was a command taken so literally that it has swept away ever since in some of the Semitic peoples all interest in plastic or pictorial art, whether sacred or secular. It was believed that the contemplation of a divinity not represented by any visible object would maintain and develop a higher conception than if portrayed under tangible form, no matter how beautiful or how symbolic.

This opinion would not and did not exclude the cultivation of the beautiful under non-sensuous forms, such as appeal to the ear rather than to the eye. I refer to metre and music, to oratory and literary composition.

From some cause which it might be difficult to explain satisfactorily the natural expression of religious emotion in language is universally metrical. The rites of every barbarous tribe are conducted in or accompanied by rude chants or songs, which both stimulate the religious feelings and give appropriate vent to them. Many of these chants are mere repetitions of phrases, or refrains, destitute of meaning, but they answer the purpose, and are the germs from which, in appropriate surroundings, have been developed the great poems of the race, the inspirations of its immortal bards.

Hundreds of examples of these primitive religious chants have been collected of recent years, when, for the first time, their ethnologic importance has been understood. They present a striking similarity, whether from the Polynesian Islands, the desert-dwellers of Australia, or the Navahoes and Sioux of our own reservations. Many of them are scarcely more than inarticulate cries, but even these have a certain likeness, containing the same class of vowels, and often leading, through this physiological correlation of sound to emotion, to similar words in the religious language of far-distant peoples.

Everywhere we find these metrical outbursts controlled by the sense of rhythmical repetition; and it was to accentuate this that instruments of music were first invented. Their rudest forms may be seen in the two flat sticks which the Australians use to beat time for their singing in their _corroborees_, or festal ceremonies; or in the hollow log, pounded by a club, which some Central American tribes still employ. All the native American musical instruments appear to have been first invented for aiding the ritual; and tradition assigns with probability the same origin for most of those in the Old World.

Uniform rhythmic motion is a powerful means of intensifying collective suggestion; and its action is the more potent the more we yield our minds to the control of their unconscious activities,—the realm in which the religious sentiment is supreme.

In the initiation ceremonies of the Australians—called the _Bora_—the youth are obliged to listen to long speeches from the old men, containing instructions in conduct and the ancestral religious beliefs. Such customs as this,—and in one or another form they are universal in primitive religions—led to the development of the art of Oratory. It was cultivated assiduously in primitive conditions. We have several volumes largely filled with the prolix addresses of the Aztec priests and priestesses on various solemn occasions, as birth, entering adult life, marriage, etc.[290] To learn these long formulas by heart was one of the duties, and not an easy one, of the neophytes.

In most tribes they are couched in forms apart from those of daily use, the words being unusual, with full vowels and sonorous terminations. Some of these peculiarities survive in the “pulpit eloquence” of our own day, testifying to the influence of religious thought on the development of the modes of dignified expression.

It was in this connection and under this inspiration that man invented the greatest boon which humanity has ever enjoyed,—a system of writing, a means of recording and preserving facts and ideas. Our present alphabet is traced lineally back to the sacred picture-writing of ancient Egypt; and the less efficient method employed by the natives of Mexico and Central America originated in devices to preserve the liturgic songs and religious formulas. For generations, in both areas, its chief cultivation and extension lay with the priestly class: although its final application to the uses of daily life was due to merchants rather than to scholars.

This discovery made possible such a treasure as a literature; and that we find its beginnings and oldest memorials chiefly of religious contents is ample testimony to this incalculable debt we owe to the religious sentiment. The papyri of Egypt, the codices of Central America, the Sanscrit Rig Veda, and the Persian Vendidad testify to the diligence with which the ancient worshippers sought to preserve the sacred chants and formulas.

We discern the same anxiety among rude savages to pass down in their integrity the liturgies of their worship; and in the “meday sticks” of the Chipeways and the curiously incised wooden tablets of Easter Island, we have the beginnings of written literature,—always the purpose being religious in character.

It is unnecessary to dwell in detail upon the fostering influence of early religion on the useful arts. In their numerous applications to the ritual and the objective expression of the religious sentiment, they were constantly stimulated by it and by the reward it was ever prepared to offer, both in this world and that to come.

But one art of utility was so pre-eminently religious in its source that it merits especial comment, that is, building or architecture. Nearly all the great monuments of the ancient world, most of the important structures of primitive tribes everywhere, have in them something religious in aim, or are avowedly so. We know little or nothing of the builders of the mysterious “megalithic monuments,” the dolmens and cromlechs which to the number of thousands rise on the soil of France and England; but their arrangement and character leave no doubt that they were for some religious purpose. So the mighty piles which excite our astonishment in the valley of the Nile or the Euphrates, or on the highlands of Mexico, or in the tropical forests of Yucatan, reveal the same inspiration.

In his altars and temples, in his shrines and funerary monuments, his fanes and cathedrals, man has at all times expended his efforts and his means with a prodigality lavished on no other edifices. The orders of architecture arose from his desire to erect dwellings worthy of the god who should inhabit them. No beauty of line, no majesty of proportion, no abundance of decoration, was too great to secure this purpose. Such surroundings in time imparted dignity and permanence to the cult, and embellished the religious sentiment through noble artistic associations.

7. Let us now turn from these considerations of a general nature to the more pointed one, whether primitive religions exerted an improving influence on the independent life of the individual; for that is the test to which all institutions should finally be brought.

The savage is not the type of a free man, although in popular estimation he is generally so considered. He is, in fact, tyrannically fettered by traditional laws and tribal customs. He is merged in his clan or gens, against whose rules, often most painful and arbitrary, he dares take no step. As an individual, he cannot escape from their invisible chains.[291]

His only avenue to permitted freedom is through the higher law of his personal religion. If he pleads that his own tutelary spirit has ordered him to an act contrary to custom, or that his own magical powers enable him to defy established usage, his disregard of it will be condoned.

In savage life, the inspired and the insane are always ranked in the same category as above the law. Among the Kamschatkans, if a man declares that his personal divinity has in a dream commanded him to unite with some woman of the tribe, it is her duty to obey, no matter what her position or relationship.[292]

Although at times this freedom was doubtless abused, it secured for the individual a degree of personal liberty which he could have attained in no other manner. By recognising a law for the single conscience above that of either ancestral usage or popular religion, it paved the way to the development of the individual, free from all restraints other than his clear judgment would lay upon himself.

He who possessed the hidden knowledge, the esoteric _gnosis_, was by that knowledge released from bondage to his fellow-men. As the poet Chapman so well says:

“There is no danger to a man who knows
What life and death is; there’s not any law
Exceeds his knowledge: neither is it lawful
That he should stoop to any other law.”

This sense of superiority to all surroundings is disclosed everywhere in mystic religions. A Hindu prophetess was a few years ago imprisoned by the English civic judge for violation of the local laws and disturbing the peace. Her only statement in defence was: “Years ago, when a girl, I met in the jungle, face to face, the god Siva. He entered into my bosom. He abides in me now. My blessing is his blessing; my curse his curse.”[293] The Malay, when he “runs amuck,” regards himself exonerated from all restraint, moral or social; and that custom and belief are not confined to his race.[294]

It was held among the ancients that those who are “born of God,” that is, inspired by the divine afflatus, are not only above human law, but “are not subject even to the decrees of Fate.”[295]

The ceremonial law, so powerful in primitive condition, must have exerted a beneficial influence on the training of the individual. Its severe restrictions, its minute and ceaseless regulations of his life, taught him self-control and self-sacrifice. His first duty was not to himself but to the other members of his clan or totem. Obedience and systematic restraint were useful lessons inculcated on him from earliest childhood. The Congo Negro, the Andaman Islander, the American Indian, for whom his sponsors had taken vows at his birth, grew up to consider the fulfilment of these the chief end of his life. Their violation would entail disaster and disgrace not merely on himself but on his people. His religious education, therefore, cultivated in him some of the finest qualities of perfected manhood,—self-abnegation and altruism; for, as Professor Granger well says, “The primitive idea of holiness implies as its chief element, relation to the _communal_ life.”[296]

If, therefore, with some writers, we must concede that in primitive conditions the individual was ever conceived with reference to the gens or community, on the other hand, we must recognise the potency of the religious element occasionally to separate him from others as one of “the elect”; to train him in self-realisation and self-government; and to cherish in his mind the germs of a free personality.[297]

More difficult is the decision of the question whether primitive religions increased the happiness of the individual.

I have mentioned more than once the generally joyous character of many of them, as seen in their rituals. But it would be a grave error not to dwell also upon the dread of evil spirits which is so conspicuous a part of most, and which keeps their votaries in a state of perpetual anxiety. Nor can the self-sacrifice I have referred to increase the cheerfulness of life, associated as it often is with painful mutilations, with prolonged fasting, and exposure to cold and heat. The cruelty of the ceremonies is often shocking, the edicts of the religious code merciless.

To compensate this, “the fearful looking forward to the wrath to come,” the fertile source of mental misery in advanced faiths, scarcely exists in those of primitive conditions. Death itself is thus deprived of its greatest terror, and the indifference with which it is met by most savages is matter of common note among travellers.

Nor does there exist in primitive conditions that fertile source of human misery, religious bigotry or intolerance, with its fatal train of persecutions, torture, and suspicion. The bloodiest sacrifices of heathendom have never entailed such personal unhappiness as the gloomy fanaticism of some forms of Christianity.

All these several lines of development are, it will be noted, external to religion itself. They modify it, and are modified by it. But there are other changes, wrought within the religious sense itself, which we must now consider.

Religions, like all other institutions, are subject to growth and decay, evolution and retrogression, development and death.

The vast majority of primitive faiths have disappeared totally, leaving no trace behind except the nameless images of their gods, or not even these. They were obliterated by conquest, or merged and lost in other forms of belief, or degenerated and petrified until they died a natural death.

Others grew and extended, vitalised by new thoughts, appropriate to the new environment, or were carried far and wide by victorious rulers or enthusiastic votaries. It is generally true, as Professor Toy has observed, that, in early conditions, the life of a religion depends on the life of the tribe or state which has adopted it, and that “the larger the community, the more persistent and vigorous its religion will be.”[298]

But the secret of success lay within rather than without; the particular faith must pass through certain internal transformations in order to fit it for the wider field opened to it. The chief of these stadia of progress may be described as a transference of religious thought: 1. From the object to the symbol; 2. From the ceremonial law to the personal ideal; and 3. From the tribal to the national conception of religion.

1. The rudest phases of religion connect the ideas of the Divine with particular external objects, a tree, a rock, a special place, around which grow up a series of local myths and usages. Such ideas, to develop, must break away from these connections with concrete and localised relations. They must become generalised, and the symbol be substituted for the object.

Instead of a particular tree, for instance, the sign of the tree, the cross or the pole (_asherim_), will be adopted. This represents not the original object but the personified activity, the spirit or god which was supposed earlier to inhabit the given object or spot.

Thus the mind is freed from its bondage to a purely material, geographically single, perception, and the first step is taken toward universal or world-ideas of divinity. In metaphysical terms, it is a passage from the concrete to the abstract, from the particular to the general, from the real to the ideal; a line of progress which must necessarily be followed by man’s intelligence in order to develop his especially human attributes.

2. The second important step was that which substituted for the bare and cold prescriptions of the ceremonial law the ideal of personal perfection. The beginnings of this are visible even in the lowest faiths, as we see in their veneration of those who, they considered, had fulfilled most completely their notions of duty. Such persons were held to have descended from the gods, or were inspired by them.

It is true these early ideals are of little more than physical strength and mental cunning; but their attributes gradually expanded to include corporeal beauty, intellectual power, and ethical grandeur.

We thus arrive, still in primitive conditions, to such personal ideals as Quetzalcoatl among the Aztecs, of whom it was said in their legends that he was of majestic presence, chaste in life, averse to war, wise and generous in actions, and delighting in the cultivation of the arts of peace; or as we see among the Peruvians, in their culture hero Tonapa, of whose teachings a Catholic writer of the sixteenth century says: “So closely did they resemble the precepts of Jesus, that nothing was lacking in them but His name and that of His Father.”[299]

When these ideals were not distinctly men, but were partially or wholly divine, nevertheless the contemplation of an existence whose chief aim was to do good to those who complied with his instructions, to protect those who fled to him, and to grant the petitions of those who prayed to him, was both a comforting and ennobling conception.

3. Professor Thiele in his work on the ancient Egyptian religion makes the wise observation: “The revolution brought about by religious universalism is the greatest and most complete which the history of the world can show.”[300]

It is true that no primitive religion aimed at universalism or even deemed it desirable or possible. The gods of the gens or tribe belonged to that community, were its own exclusively, and stood in antagonism to all other gods. There was no notion of proselytising or missionary work, no desire to extend the worship of the tribal god beyond the limits of the tribe.

This exclusiveness was broken down by the inter-communication of tribes, their confederations and conquests, which forced the religious conceptions to take broader views. The priests and philosophers began to recognise in the deities of other nations types of their own, as we see in Greek and Roman writers. This gradually led to the comprehensive speculations of the world-religions, in which all men are considered to stand equally before God, and all entitled to the same share of His grace.

The early stages of these transitions are easily recognised in primitive faiths. The adoption of foreign gods appears early. When a tribe met with frequent reverses, it began to distrust the power of its own deities, and apply to those of its conquerors for aid. The custom of exogamy introduced divinities of other gentes. Personal and communal wants led to pilgrimages to the famous oracles and fanes of distant religions, and the votaries in returning brought with them the memory and the cult of alien gods. In many such ways the barriers of the tribal faith were gradually broken down.

* * * * *

We may expect to find faint traits or none of the purely abstract stage of religion in the cults of savage tribes. Yet they are not absolutely lacking.

This abstract stage is when the Idea, no longer merged in the Ideal, stands by itself as the recognised guide of conscious effort. The conception of infinity or perfection is not then conceived in relation to a being or personality. It will still act as the loftiest motive of action, the deepest source of spiritual joy.

Thus understood and recognised, it will not be a cold product of the reason, but the warm and potent efflux of the heart, of the impulses, and the emotions. In him who rises to this height, the sympathy for and the active love of the good and the true will be all the stronger, because he will see that man must hope only from man, from diligent self-perfecting; but may thus hope confidently from the best there is in man.

Toward this end, though unseen and unacknowledged, were all religions of primitive peoples unconsciously directing and impelling the human mind. Long has been the path, many the false routes followed, far away is still the goal; but ever firmer in faith, and clearer in purpose, man will in due time and fit season be established in this, the last and innermost mystery of his religious nature.

FOOTNOTES

[1] “Religion,” observes Professor Toy, “must be treated as a product of human thought, as a branch of Sociology, subject to all the laws that control general human progress.”—_Judaism and Christianity_, p. 1.

[2] Rev. John M. Neale, _History of the Holy Eastern Church_, vol. i., p. 37.

[3] Granger, _The Worship of the Romans_, p. vii.

[4] A. H. Post, _Grundriss der ethnologischen Jurisprudenz_, Bd. i., s. 4.

[5] _The Science of Fairy Tales_, p. 2.

[6] _Zeitschrift für Völkerpsychologie_, Bd. xi., s. 124.

[7] J. J. Honegger, _Allgemeine Culturgeschichte_, Bd. i., s. 332. “Similar conceptions,” observes Professor Bastian, “repeat themselves, under fixed laws, in localities wide apart, in ages far remote.”—_Grundzüge der Ethnologie_, p. 73.

[8] E. M. Curr, _The Australian Race_, vol. i., p. 50.

[9] W. P. Clark, U. S. A., _Indian Sign Language_, p. 241.

[10] This subject is fully discussed by Flügel, _Zeit. für. Völkerpsychologie_, Bd. xi.; by Prof. James Sully in his _Studies of Childhood_; and by Dr. Friedmann, _Centralblatt für Anthropologie_, Bd. i. The last mentioned argues that the mind of the savage has more points of resemblance to the insane than to the child mind. The higher emotional susceptibility of savages can be illustrated by abundant examples.

[11] _Ethnography and Philology of the United States Exploring Expedition_, p. 108.

[12] The case was not exceptional. Among several tribes it was an established custom for a mother to kill and eat her first child, as it was believed to strengthen her for later births. See examples in _Zeitschrift für Völkerpsychologie_, Bd. xiv., pp. 460, _sq._

[13] Palmer in _Jour. Anthrop. Inst._, vol. xiii., pp. 294, 399.

[14] Professor Sayce believes that the Sumerian of ancient Babylonia was genderless; and that the local gods were first endowed with sex on being adopted by the Semites.—_Hibbert Lectures_, p. 176.

[15] Cuoq, _Lexique Algonquine_, p. 21, note.

[16] _The Golden Bough_, Preface.

[17] Ed. Clodd, _Myths and Dreams_, p. 168.

[18] Besides the general works on Egyptian religion, I may note R. Pietschmann, “Aegypt. Fetischdienst und Götterglaube,” in _Zeitschrift für Ethnologie_, Bd. x., s. 153, _sq._ He points out that there was no unity in the ancient cults of Egypt, as the gods were those of the nomes only. The worship of Osiris did not prevail generally till after the sixth dynasty (p. 165).

[19] Some have explained superstition as “degenerate religion”; others as “religious error”; others (Pfleiderer) as “a pathological condition of normal belief”; but all such definitions depend on the view-point. As Roskoff remarks: “The man who is plunged in superstition is sure to hold it for the only true faith, and is contented with it so long as he is not troubled with doubts.”—_Das Religionswesen der Naturvölker_, p. 17.

[20] See T. Rhys Davids, _Indian Buddhism_, p. 29 (Hibbert Lectures), and in the first volume of the present series of lectures.

[21] Death was to the Roman the _somnum eternale_. Prof. Sayce remarks of the ancient Chaldeans that they had no definite belief in an after life.—_Hibbert Lectures_, p. 358.

[22] The question has been carefully examined by G. Roskoff in his work _Das Religionswesen der Rohesten Naturvölker_ (Leipzig, 1880). He conclusively refutes the assertions that tribes have been encountered without religion.

[23] Calloway, _Religious System of the Amazulus_, p. 113.

[24] Rev. W. Y. Turner in _Jour. Anthrop. Institute_, vol. vii., p. 492.

[25] _Medicine Men of the Apache_, pp. 499, 500.

[26] The question is carefully discussed by Hoernes, _Urgeschichte des Menschen_, p. 93, _sq._, who disputes Mortillet’s opinion. The latter is given in his _Préhistorique Antiquité de l’Homme_, p. 603, _sq._

[27] _The Descent of Man_, p. 95.

[28] Quoted in _L’Anthropologie_, vol. viii., p. 334.

[29] Granger, _Religion of the Romans_, p. 21; Thiele, _Hist. of the Egyptian Religion_, Introd.

[30] Dr. Schwaner, in H. Ling Roth, _The Natives of Sarawak_, vol. ii., App. p. clxii.

[31] H. Grimme, _Mohammed_, p. 38.

[32] In his Preface to _The Revolt of Islam_.

[33] O. Peschel, _Völkerkunde_, s. 255; F. Ratzel, _Ethnographie_, Bd. i;—Schurtz, _Catechismus der Völkerkunde_, s. 88.

[34] The eminent anthropologist Broca denied that _religiosity_ is a distinctive trait of humanity. See further in Hovelacque et Hervé, _Précis d’Anthropologie_, pp. 634-636.

[35] _Myth, Ritual, and Religion_, vol. i., chap. xi.

[36] _Hibbert Lectures_, p. 328. Darwin has a parallel passage, _Descent of Man_, p. 95.

[37] “Everything, animate or inanimate, which has an independent being, or can be individualised, possesses a spirit, or, more properly, a shade (_idahi_, a shadow, or reflection).” Washington Matthews, _Ethnog. of the Hidatsa_, p. 48. This expresses the general _Weltanschauung_ of the savage mind. Let it be remembered that it is also characteristic of the poetic, or personifying representation of nature, and thus belongs to the highest artistic expressions of the human mind as well as to its feeblest utterances.

[38] This was the universal opinion of classical antiquity. See Payne Knight, _Ancient Art_, p. 45. It was also the orthodox theory of the early Church concerning the redeemed soul. It “will know all things as God doth. Whatsoever is in Heaven and whatsoever is in earth, everything will he see with that veritable knowledge which nothing escapeth.”—_Select Works of St. Ephrem the Syrian_, translated by Rev. J. B. Morris, p. 353.

[39] Ridley, in _Jour. Anthrop. Institute_, vol. ii., p. 269.

[40] Mr. A. E. Gough gives reasons for the opinion that the _yogin_, who practises the _yoga_, is a lineal follower of the ancient local shaman.—_Philosophy of the Upanishads_, p. 221.

[41] This curious recent development of most ancient experience is described by Dr. M. Bucke in the work, _In Re Walt Whitman_.

[42] The phenomena of “demoniac possession” are so remarkable, and so frequent in lower conditions of culture that they have been defended as the actual influence of evil spirits by intelligent modern observers (see the work of Rev. Dr. Nevins, _Demoniac Possession in China_, etc.). Bishop Calloway says most of the negro converts in Natal have such attacks after embracing Christianity (_Jour. Anthrop. Society_, vol. i., p. 171). Brough Smith describes such attacks among the Australians. Strong men are suddenly seized with violent convulsions. They dance wildly, scream at the top of their voices, foam at the mouth, and continue until utterly exhausted. They are homicidal when in this condition, and their companions fear to approach them (_The Aborigines of Victoria_, vol. i., p. 466).

[43] The most complete study of this subject in connection with the development of religions is the work of Dr. Otto Stoll, _Suggestion und Hypnotismus in der Völkerpsychologie_ (Leipzig, 1894).

[44] Bishop Calloway, in _Jour. Anthrop. Institute_, i., p. 177; and in his _Religious System of the Amazulu_, p. 232. The Bushmen explain it as “a kind of beating of the flesh,” which tells them the future, and where lost things may be found. They add: “Those who are stupid do not understand this teaching.”—Bleek, _Bushman Folk-lore_, p. 17.

[45] A. E. Gough, _Philosophy of the Upanishads_, p. 243.

[46] Klemm, _Allgemeine Culturgeschichte_, Bd. ii., s. 337; A. M. Curr, _The Australian Race_, vol. i., p. 48.

[47] Curr notes this among the Australians, _ubi supra_, vol. i., p. 48; and it is general among American Indians.

[48] W. W. Gill, _Myths and Songs from the South Pacific_, p. 35.

[49] Middendorf, _Keshua Wörterbuch_, s. v.

[50] _Proceedings of the American Association for the Advancement of Science_, 1896. Sect. H.

[51] On the meaning of _huaca_ see von Tschudi, _Beiträge zur Kennt. des alten Peru_, p. 156; Bertonio, _Vocab. de la Lengua Aymara_, s. v.

[52] The probable identity of Heb. _Iah_ with Chald. _Iah_ is acknowledged by Pinches, Sayce, and other eminent Assyriologists (see an article by the former, in the _Proc._ of the Victorian Institute for 1895). That the Greek Iachus is from the Chaldeo-Syrian (as his myth claims, referring to him as “The Assyrian stranger,” etc., L. Dyer _The Gods in Greece_, p. 165) was maintained by Herodotus, Macrobius, and Plutarch, among the ancients, and by various modern authors. It can be shown, however, that _Yah_ as a name of God was derived from a sacred interjection or cry of the same phonetic value, which recurs repeatedly in the cults of America, Polynesia, and Australia. This is also true of _hua_ or _wa_, the radical of the English “God.” They are both what have been called “universal” radicals.

[53] Codrington in _Jour. Anthrop. Inst._, vol. x., p. 279; Fornander, _The Polynesian Race_, vol. iii., pp. 225-7. In some dialects _mana_ has the special meanings, omen; the thunder; the breath; the belly (_i.e._, the interior), etc. Hale gives the definition “power” as common to all dialects (_Polynesian Lexicon_, s. v.). Fornander notes the similarity to Sanscrit, _mana_, _manu_, mind, thought.

[54] I have dwelt on the absence of monotheism among the American tribes in _Myths of the New World_, p. 75. Dr. Washington Matthews, a most competent, authority, expresses the universally correct view, when, speaking of Mahopa, the divine conception of the Hidatsa Indians, he says: “It refers to an influence or power above all things, but not attaching to it any ideas of personality.”—_Ethnography of the Hidatsa Indians_, p. 48.

[55] Klemm, _Culturgeschichte_, Bd. ii., s. 338; L. M. Turner, _The Hudson Bay Eskimos_, p. 272; von den Steinen, _Die Naturvölker Zentral-Brasiliens_, p. 340. Among the Australians, both men and women become “doctors” or shamans by dreaming.—Curr, _The Australian Race_, vol., ii., p. 74.

[56] These are called “hypnogogic hallucinations.” They have been studied by Maury, _Annales Medico-psychologiques_, tome xi., p. 252, _sq._

[57] This point is discussed by Professor Granger, _Worship of the Romans_, pp. 28, _sq._

[58] Bishop Calloway describes the regimen adopted to become inspired among the Zulus, in _Jour. Anthrop. Soc._, vol. i., p. 175. Among the Dyaks of Borneo the ceremony is called _nampok_, and its conditions are: 1. To be alone; 2. To pass the night on a mountain top; 3. To offer a sacrifice and call for the god. Ling Roth, _Natives of Sarawak_, vol. i., p. 185.

[59] I have treated this question at some length in my _Myths of the New World_, p. 314, and _Nagualism_, p. 7, _sq._

[60] I have given a translation of it in _Essays of an Americanist_, p. 293.

[61] A. E. Gough, _Philosophy of the Upanishads_, p. 237. The Mexican adjurations referred to are given by Sahagun, _Historia de Nueva España_, lib. x., cap. 29.

[62] W. W. Gill, _Myths and Songs of the South Pacific_, pp. 28, 34. The concrete meaning of both words is pith, kernel, core, centre, etc.

[63] Hale, _Ethnography of the U.S. Exploring Expedition_, p. 55; Klemm, _Culturgeschichte_, Bd. ii., s. 315; after Stoll. The Algonkian myth relates that the hero-god Nanabojou could converse with the spirits of all things, with trees, flowers, butterflies, the thunder, etc. (Clark, _Indian Sign Language_, p. 113).

[64] Elysée Reclus, _Le Primitif d’Australie_, p. 232.

[65] The Greeks had but vague notions of an after life, and Professor Schrader remarks: “The cult of the dead has no place in the Homeric world.” _Prehist. Antiqs. of the Aryan Peoples_, p. 424. The “indigetes dii” of the Romans were rather heroes than divinities, though Arnobius, _Adv. Gentes_, lib. i., cap. 64, asserts that they were worshipped.

[66] The most satisfactory recent study on the worship of ancestors and of the dead, is that by Dr. S. R. Steinmetz in his _Ethnologische Studien zur ersten Entwicklung der Strafe_, Bd. i., ss. 141-287 (Leiden, 1894).

[67] Clark, _Indian Sign Language_, pp. 121, 165, 199, 207, etc.; Howitt in _Jour. Anthrop. Institute_, vol. xiii., p. 186. If one wakes a sleeper suddenly, he may die, as his vagrant soul may not get back in time. Von den Steinen, _Naturvölker Zentral-Brasiliens_, p. 510. In all these primitive views the real soul is regarded as merely a tenant of the body (not a function or the result of functions), as it is to-day in the popular religions of civilised lands.

[68] The fear of ghosts in civilised countries is the survival of a wide-spread, ancient belief in the malevolence of souls. I have found no instance of this more striking than among the Finns. They believed that the souls of the dead lie in wait for the living, in order to kill and eat them, especially their hearts and lungs, so that the slain could not live again. The ghosts did not spare their nearest relatives, and the story is told of an old man, who warned his beloved young wife not to follow his corpse to the grave, or his ghost would eat her. She disobeyed, and saved herself only by pronouncing the name of God. _Cong. Internat. d’Archéologie de Moscou_, Tom. ii., p. 316. In about one third of known savage tribes, the ghosts are considered kind and friendly to the survivors. See Steinmetz’s analysis in his _Entwicklung der Strafe_, Bd. i., s. 142, _sq._

[69] Friedrich Freihold, _Die Lebensgeschichte der Menschheit_, Bd. i., s. 35.

[70] Baiame is from the verb bhai. _Jour. Anthrop. Institute_, vol. viii., p. 242. The “Nurali” of the Murray River tribes is also an embodiment of light. B. B. Smyth, _Aborigines of Victoria_, vol. i., p. 423.

[71] Gill, _Myths and Songs_, p. 13; Fornander, _The Polynesian Race_, vol. iii., p. 153.

[72] Gill, _ubi supra_, pp. 3, 17, 44.

[73] E. W. Man, in _Jour. Anthrop. Institute_, vol. xii., p. 166.

[74] Th. Hahn, _Tsuni ǁGoam_, pp. 124, 126.

[75] Clark, _Indian Sign Language_, p. 186; _Jour. Anthrop. Institute_, vol. x., p. 285.

[76] _Myths of the New World_, pp. 97, 165, etc.

[77] Fornander, _Polynesian Race_, vol. i., p. 78; Gill, _Myths and Songs_, p. 18.

[78] Musters, _Among the Patagonians_, ch. v.; Ling Roth, _Natives of Sarawak_, vol. ii., App., p. clxx.; Hahn, _Tsuni ǁGoam_, p. 37.

[79] Clark, _Indian Sign Language_, p. 189.

[80] Castren observes: “Es hat innerhalb der weitgestreckten Gränzen Asiens kaum ein einziges Volk gegeben, welches nicht den Himmel verehrt hätte.”—_Finnische Mythologie_, p. 14. He might as well have said, “the habitable globe” instead of Asia only.

[81] Matthew, v., 34.

[82] Hopkins, _Religions of India_, pp. 62, _seq._

[83] Gill, _ubi supra_, pp. 10-14; Sir George Grey, _Polynesian Mythology_, ch. i.

[84] B. Brough Smith, _Aborigines of Victoria_, vol. i., p. 457.

[85] Notably by Prof. F. L. W. Schwartz in his numerous works, and in his contributions to the _Zeitschrift für Ethnologie_, etc.

[86] The Hebrew name Jahve (Jehovah) is derived by some from the verb “to thunder.” In the Vedas, Parjanja, the Thunderer, is a conspicuous figure. Mumpal, the Thunder, say the Australians, created all things. (_Reise der Fregatte Novara_, Anthrop. Theil, s. ix.) Among the Bechuanas, “When it thunders, every one trembles, and each asks the other, ‘Is there anyone among us who has devoured the wealth of others?’” (Calloway, _Relig. System of the Amazulu_, p. 117). Any number of other examples could be added.

[87] Klemm, _Culturgeschichte_, Bd. i., s. 64; Honegger, _Culturgeschichte_, Bd. i., s. 332.

[88] Castren, _Finnische Mythologie_, p. 17.

[89] Gough, _Philosophy of the Upanishads_, p. 17.

[90] I refer especially to the results of the physical investigations of Helmholtz, and to their logical application to mental science, by George J. Romanes, in his _Mind and Motion_; to the position of Prof. Paulsen in his _Introduction to Philosophy_; and to such lines of thought as are presented in Professor Dolbear’s _Matter, Ether, and Motion_.

[91] Related in Gill’s _Myths and Songs of the South Pacific_. M. van Ende, in his _Histoire Naturelle de la Croyance_, p. 83, sq., has some suggestive remarks on sound as regarded by primitive nations as a mark of life. Hence, their myths of brooks, trees, etc., as conscious beings.

[92] A Lenormant, _Chaldean Magic_, p. 96.

[93] E. F. Dalton, _Ethnology of Bengal_, p. 60. “Nothing more colors Hindu life,” writes Mr. Walhouse, “than the belief in the efficacy of _mantras_—forms of prayer or powerful words, by which all the relations of life may be influenced, and even the gods may be bound.”—_Jour. Anthrop, Inst._, vol. xiv., p. 189.

[94] Curr, _The Australian Race_, vol. i., p. 48.

[95] _Report of Com. of N. South Wales to the Columbian Exposition_, p. 7.

[96] Sayce, _Hibbert Lectures_, p. 309.

[97] Lenormant, _Chaldean Magic_, p. 63.

[98] Brinton, _Myths of the New World_, p. 318.

[99] The appropriate rite thus to destroy an enemy is described by Curr, _The Australian Race_, vol. ii., p. 610.

[100] _Popol Vuh, le Livre Sacré des Quiches_, p. 10.

[101] _Polynesian Mythology_, p. 284.

[102] _Religious System of the Amazulu_, p. 413.

[103] The expression in the Algonkin tongue for a person of the same name is _nind owiawina_, “He is another myself” (Cuoq, _Lexique Algonquine_, p. 113).

[104] Curr, _ubi supra_, p. 246.

[105] Ling Roth, _Natives of Sarawak_, vol. i., p. 288.

[106] H. Hale, _Ethnography of the U. S. Exploring Expedition_, p. 288.

[107] Klemm, _Culturgeschichte_, Bd. ii., p. 329.

[108] This subject has been discussed by Andree, _Ethnographische Parallelen_, pp. 165-184, and other writers. On the “name soul” among the American Indians I have collected material in _Myths of the New World_, p. 277, _sq._ Most American and Australian tribes would not name the dead. On the other hand, in the robust religion of the ancient Germans, the names of the loved departed and of great chiefs were shouted out at the banquets, and a horn drained to their _minni_, affectionate memory. J. Grimm, _Teutonic Mythology_, vol. i., p. 59.

[109] _Chaldean Magic_, p. 104.

[110] The original is in the Turin papyrus.

[111] Granger, _Worship of the Romans_, p. 277.

[112] Howitt, in _Jour. Anthrop. Inst._, xiii., p. 192.

[113] James Adair, _Hist. of the North Am. Indians_, p. 54.

[114] Prof. Sayce in _Hibbert Lectures_, p. 305.

[115] Sahagun, _Historia de Nueva España_, lib. i., _passim_; _Popol Vuh_, cap. i.; Stoll, _Ethnographie der Rep. Guatemala_, p. 118.

[116] Gill, _Myths and Songs of the South Pacific_, p. 6.

[117] Comp. W. Robertson Smith, _Religion of the Semites_, p. 41.

[118] _Select Works of St. Ephrem_, p. 122. (Trans. by the Rev. J. B. Morris.) The name of Jesus was regarded by the early church as magical in itself. Arnobius says of him, “whose Name, when heard, puts to flight evil spirits, imposes silence on soothsayers, prevents men from consulting the augurs, and frustrates the efforts of magicians.”—_Adversus Gentes_, lib. i., cap. 46.

[119] See Stoll, _Suggestion und Hypnotismus_, p. 14, _seq._

[120] The _pĕtara_ of the Borneans is at times used as a personal name of the chief divine being, at others in the vague sense of “duty” or “supernatural.” Ling Roth, _Natives of Sarawak_, vol. i., 179. Analogous instances have already been mentioned.

[121] _Indian Sign Language_, p. 309.

[122] Sir George Grey, _Polynesian Mythology_, p. 164.

[123] Hyades et Deniker, _Mission Scientifique au Cap Horn_, p. 376. Earlier voyagers write: “They certainly have ideas of a spiritual existence.”—_Narrative of the Voyages of the Adventure and Beagle_, vol. ii., p. 179.

[124] _Ancient Nahuatl Poetry_ (Philadelphia, 1890); _Rig Veda Americanus_ (Philadelphia, 1890).

[125] Dr. W. Matthews, _The Mountain Chant of the Navahoes_, p. 465.

[126] Clark, _Indian Sign Language_, p. 309.

[127] Sahagun, _Hist. de Nueva España_, lib. vi. Other examples are given by this writer.

[128] _Encyclopédie des Sciences Religieuses_, s. v. Prière.

[129] Other forms are _tapui_, to make sacred; _tabui_, to keep from; _tabuaki_, to bless. Here, as elsewhere, there is a synonomy between “sacred” or “holy” and “accursed,” because it is accursed to defile that which is holy. Another, and less probable, derivation is given by Frazer, in the _Encyclopædia Britannica_, s. v. “Taboo.” He is perfectly right, however, in saying that the original form of the _tabu_ is due, not to its civil, but to its religious element.

[130] Klemm, _Culturgeschichte_, vol. ii., pp. 368, _sq._, after Steller, who visited Kamschatka about 1740.

[131] Man, in _Jour. Anthrop. Society_, vol. xii., pp. 159, 173.

[132] Authorities above quoted, and Darwin, _Descent of Man_, p. 95.

[133] For abundant examples of the _tabu_ in various nations see Frazer’s article in the _Encyc. Britannica_ above referred to.

[134] _Religion of the Semites_, p. 18.

[135] Filling in manuscript, he says, seventy-seven quarto volumes, and far from exhausting the supply! _Bushman Folk-lore_, p. 6. (London, 1875.)

[136] Man, _ubi supra_, p. 172.

[137] Morice, _Trans. Roy. Soc. Canada_, 1892, p. 125.

[138] This branch of the subject has been fully discussed by Keary, _Outlines of Prim. Belief_, Preface and chapter i.; and Frazer, _The Golden Bough_, _passim_.

[139] See _Myths of the New World_, chap. iii.; also, an article on symbolism in ancient American art, by Prof. Putnam and Mr. Willoughby in _Proc. Am. Ass. Adv. Science_, vol. xliv., p. 302.

[140] I have presented this subject with greater detail in an article “On the Origin of Sacred Numbers” in the _American Anthropologist_, April, 1894. The contrast of symbolism of the three and the four is familiar to students. Such a popular text-book as Keil’s _Manual of Biblical Archæology_ states that four was the predominating number in the temples, altars, and rites of the ancient world, it being, “according to an idea common to all antiquity, the symbol of the cosmos”; while the three was “the mark of the Divine Being in His various manifestations” (pp. 127, 128).

[141] Westcott, _Symbolism of Numbers_, p. 7. I have given several examples of triple or triune deities in America in _Myths of the New World_, pp. 84, 187, 188. From other fields I may note the triad Kane, Ku, and Lono of Hawaii (Fornander, _Polynesian Race_, vol. i., p. 61); that on the Marquesas objectively represented by three sticks tied together (Dr. Tautain, in _L’Anthropologie_, tom. vii., p. 544); the triad of Tangaloa, Creator, Maui, Sustainer, and Tiki, Revealer, elsewhere in Polynesia (Hale, _Ethnog. and Philol._, p. 24).

[142] Numerous examples are collected in L. L. Conant, _The Number Concept_, chap. ii.

[143] In the Quiche and Tzental dialects.

[144] From the verb _tumpa_, to forge. Ling Roth, _Natives of Sarawak_, vol. i., p. 165.

[145] The Tinné of British America have the word _Nayéweri_, he who creates by thought (Petitot, _Les Dené Dindjie_, p. 63); the Algonquian Kitché Manito created the world “by an act of his will” (Schoolcraft, _Oneóta_, p. 342). For the Zuñians, see Cushing, _Zuñi Creation Myths_, p. 379; for the Polynesians, Hale, _Ethnography of the U. S. Exploring Expedition_, p. 399, and Fornander, _The Polynesian Race_, vol. i., p. 62.

There is no distinction between these opinions and that of the Christian church, so beautifully expressed by St. Ephrem the Syrian: “At the nod of His will, noiseless and gentle, out of nothing He created all.” (_Select Works_, Translated by Rev. J. B. Morris, p. 185.)

[146] Fornander, _The Polynesian Race_, vol. i., p. 67; _Rel. de la Nouv. France_, 1634, p. 13.

[147] In _Myths of the New World_, ch. vii. (first ed., 1868). Numerous writers, Klee, Andree, Lucas, etc., have treated the deluge myth with fulness. It is found even among the Mincopies of the Andaman Islands (Man, _u. s._) and is quite common throughout Polynesia (Fornander, _u. s._, vol. i., pp. 88, _sq._). Various Australian tribes record it in detail, Smyth, _The Aborigines of Victoria_, vol. i., p. 430.

[148] Fornander (_u. s._, vol. i., p. 79, _sq._) discusses it in Polynesia. Their “tree of life” was a sacred “tabooed” bread-fruit tree. For America, see _Myths of the New World_, pp. 103-106.

[149] For this reason the works of Delitsch, Haupt, etc., on the question, _Wo lag das Paradies?_, are much less to the point than if their writers had studied the comparative mythology of the subject.

[150] This mythical cycle, as it arose among the native tribes of America, was made by me the special subject of a volume, _American Hero-Myths_ (pp. 251, Philadelphia, 1882).

[151] See my _Essays of an Americanist_, pp. 135-147; J. Grimm, _Teutonic Mythology_, vol. ii., p. 832; Schrader and Jevons, _Prehistoric Antiquities of the Aryan Peoples_, p. 424.

[152] Codrington in _Jour. Anthrop. Soc._, vol. x., p. 285.

[153] Waitz, _Anthropologie der Naturvölker_, Bd. ii., p. 188.

[154] Von Hasselt, in _Zeitschrift für Ethnologie_, Bd. viii., p. 196.

[155] J. G. Pfleiderer, _Die Genesis des Mythus der Indogermanischen Völker_, p. 48.

[156] References in Pietschmann, _Zeitschrift für Ethnologie_, Bd. x., p. 159, who points out that fetishism should be, as a term, confined to the cult and not applied to the content of a religion.

[157] Rialle, _La Mythologie Comparée_, ch. i.

[158] Prof. Granger remarks that “the influence of the fetish is interpreted as a kind of life of which the fetish is the seat.”—_Worship of the Romans_, p. 201. Bastian defines it as “an incorporation of a subjective emotional state,” and his disciple Achelis recognises that it is not a stadium of religious development. See his _Moderne Völkerkunde_, p. 366.

[159] The insufficiency of animism as a theory of primitive religions has been previously urged by Van Ende, _Histoire Naturelle de la Croyance_, p. 21. Like fetishism and shamanism, animism should be regarded, not as a form or stadium of religion, but, to use Castren’s excellent expression, “nur ein Moment in der Götterlehre.” _Finnische Mythologie_, Einleitung.

[160] Dorsey, _Siouan Cults_, p. 433; the _Popol Vuh_, _passim_.

[161] Hale, _Ethnog. and Philol. of the U. S. Exploring Expd._, p. 55.

[162] E. T. Dalton, _Ethnology of Bengal_, p. 258.

[163] See remarks of W. W. Newell in his introduction to Fanny D. Bergen, _Current Superstitions_ (_Mems. Amer. Folk-lore Society_, vol. iv.).

[164] Klemm, _Culturgeschichte_, Bd. ii., s. 316; Ling Roth, _Natives of Sarawak_, vol. ii., App., p. cxcviii.; Brinton, _Myths of the New World_, p. 154; Curr, _The Australian Race_, vol. ii., p. 48. The moon was sacred to Tina, the chief god of the Etruscans. Müller, _Die Etrusker_, Bd. ii., p. 43. Ně dîdâ, better known as Dido, has been identified with the moon as the leading deity of the Carthaginians and Phœnicians. Otto Meltzer, _Geschichte der Karthager_, Bd. i., s. 128. Danu, the goddess who presided over the Irish pantheon, the _tuatha de Danann_, was the moon (from _daon_, to rise).

[165] Montesinos, _Ancien Perou_, p. 17; Venegas, _Hist of California_, p. 107; Smyth, _Aborigines of Victoria_, vol. i., p. 459.

[166] Brincker in _Globus_, Bd. lxviii., p. 97.

[167] Martin de Leon, _Camino del Cielo_, fol. 101.

[168] Montesinos, _Ancien Perou_, pp. 14-16; Ximenes, _Origen de los Indios de Guatemala_, p. 157.

[169] Sir George Grey, _Polynesian Mythology_, p. 5; Egede, _Nachrichten von Grönland_, s. 137.

[170] _Zeitschrift für Ethnologie_, Bd. ix. The Eskimo called it _Sillam Eipane_, winds-house. Egede, _u. s._

[171] The urn or vase was, in classical antiquity, the emblem of the fecundating waters (Guigniaut, _Religions de l’Antiquité_, tom. i., p. 509). Vases full of water were interred with the dead in Peru to symbolise the life beyond. Meyen, _Die Ureinwohner von Peru_, p. 29.

[172] _Kalewala_, Runa iv.

[173] Probably for this reason the ceremonial law of the Bushmen, especially that relating to puberty and marriage, enjoins “to avoid the wrath of the Water.” Bleek, _Bushman Folk-lore_, p. 18.

[174] Compare Klemm, _Culturgeschichte_, Bd. ii., s. 315 (after Steller), with Man, in _Jour. Anthrop. Soc._, vol. xii., p. 163.

[175] The specific effect of certain colours on the sub-consciousness, and thus on the religious emotions, is practically recognised in sacred art; but so far as I know this has not been made a subject of study by the experimental psychologist. Allowance must always be made for association of ideas; as when the Mozambique negroes paint the images of their bad spirits white, on account of their hatred of Europeans!

[176] Arnobius, _Adversus Gentes_, lib. vii., cap. 49.

[177] Fornander, _The Polynesian Race_, _u. s._; Hale, _Ethnog. and Philol_., p. 25.

[178] Calloway, _Relig. System of the Amazulus_, p. 34; Hahn, _Tsuni ǁGoam_, p. 91; Garcia, _Origen de los Indios_, lib. iv., cap. 26.

[179] _Jour. Anthrop. Inst._, vols. v., p. 412, x., p. 280.

[180] They were called _huacanqui_. Montesinos, _Mems. Hist. sur l’ancien Perou_, p. 161.

[181] Garcia, _Origen de los Indios_, lib. iv., cap. 26; Torquemada, _Monarquia Indiana_, lib. vi., cap. 41.

[182] Hale, _Ethnog. and Philol. of the U. S. Explor. Exped._, p. 97.

[183] Hopkins, _Religions of India_, p. 97.

[184] Clark, _Indian Sign Language_, p. 241; Matthews, _Ethnog. of the Hidatsa_, p. 48, etc.

[185] See Frazer, _The Golden Bough_, _passim_.

[186] See, for illustrative examples, my _Primer of Mayan Hieroglyphics_, p. 49, etc.; and comp. Keary, _Outlines of Primitive Belief_, p. 63, _sq._

[187] A. d’Orbigny, _L’Homme Américain_, tome ii., p. 365.

[188] Dorsey, _Siouan Cults_, pp. 390, 455; Alice C. Fletcher in _Proc. Amer. Assoc. Adv. Science_, 1895 and 1896; Brinton, _Myths of New World_, pp. 118, 119, and _Nagualism_, pp. 42, 47, 48.

[189] As suggested by E. Bonavia, _Flora of the Assyrian Monuments_ (1894). This is a more likely interpretation than that of Dr. Tylor, that the conical object is the inflorescence of the male date palm; as it is in some bas-reliefs shown presented toward a city gate, a person, etc.

[190] Fechner, _Nana, oder das Seelenleben der Pflanze_.

[191] Curr, _The Australian Race_, vol. ii., p. 199; Palmer in _Jour. Anthrop. Inst._, vol. xiii., p. 292.

[192] A. d’Orbigny, _L’Homme Américain_, tom. i., p. 240.

[193] A careful discussion of “Höhencultus,” by Baron von Andrian, may be found in the _Bericht der Deutschen Anthrop. Gesellschaft_, August, 1889. He believes the earliest form to have been that of the individualised height; later, that of its cosmic relations.

[194] On the Mexican cave-god, Oztoteotl, see my _Nagualism_, pp. 38-41.

[195] Walcott, _Sacred Archæology_, pp. 233, 236, etc.

[196] Dalton, _Ethnology of Bengal_, p. 59; Ling Roth, _Natives of Sarawak_, vol. ii., App., p. clxx.

[197] M. d’Estrey, in _L’Anthropologie_, tom. iii., pp. 712, _sq._, has made an interesting study of the lizard symbol in Polynesia, to which much could be added from other fields of primitive life.

[198] As Keary well says: “The essence of primitive belief lies not in any likeness to humanity, but in differences from it.” _Outlines of Prim. Belief_, p. 26. The Neo-Platonic doctrine of “emanation” led to the belief that a man might become so filled with the divine essence as to become divine himself. This was the claim of Simon the Magician, who “became confessedly a god to his silly followers,” says Hippolytus in his _Refutation of all Heresies_, bk. vi., cap. 13.

[199] _Die Etrusker_, Bd. ii., s. 111.

[200] Speaking of Jupiter, this fiery preacher exclaims: “Nor is there any kind of baseness in which you do not associate his name with passionate lusts.”—_Adversus Gentes_, lib. v., cap. 22.

[201] Howitt, in _Jour. Anthrop. Inst._, vol. xiii., pp. 192, 194; vol. xiv., p. 313.

[202] Robertson Smith, _Religion of the Semites_, p. 41; Herzog und Plitt, _Real-Encyclopädie für Prot. Theologie_, _s. v._ Gebet, etc.

[203] Hopkins, _Religions of India_, p. 412.

[204] Calloway, _Religious System of the Amazulu_, p. 34.