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RITUAL AND BELIEF 
 
 STUDIES IN THE HISTORY OF 
 RELIGION 
 
RITUAL AND BELIEF 
 
 STUDIES IN THE HISTORY OF 
 RELIGION 
 
 BY 
 
 EDWIN SIDNEY HARTLAND, F.S.A. 
 
 LONDON 
 WILLIAMS AND NORGATE 
 
 14 HENRIETTA STREET, COVENT GARDEN, W.C. 
 1914 
 
PREFACE 
 
 Among the various intellectual activities of the last fifty 
 years none has awakened a more widespread interest 
 than that of the study of the evolution of human civiliza- 
 tion. The reason is apparent : it has revolutionized our 
 conception of human history, and has shaken to their 
 very centre the religious traditions of Europe and civilized 
 America. The general doctrine of evolution as applied 
 to the universe at large was established shortly after the 
 middle of the nineteenth century by Darwin and Spencer. 
 Geology had already revealed the enormous age of the 
 earth, and the long procession of periods through which 
 the flora and fauna had advanced to ever higher organ- 
 ization. Archaeology had begun its enquiries into the 
 antiquity of man ; but the evidence was not yet fully 
 understood, and its weight or even its existence was 
 denied. While theology, after first indignantly repudiat- 
 ing the new teachers, was trying with many grimaces to 
 accommodate itself to their teaching, new lines of inves- 
 tigation were entered upon in this country and America 
 by Lubbock, Tylor, M'Lennan, and Morgan. The 
 mental and social development of mankind, the history 
 of ideas and 'of institutions, received fresh and unexpected 
 illumination. It began to be possible to sketch a very 
 different outline of human origins and early history frpm 
 that which had hitherto remained almost unquestioned. 
 In a country like ours, where an established Church 
 
vi RITUAL AND BELIEF 
 
 arrogated to itself all social and almost all intellectual 
 influences, and where it was very generally supported 
 by those who dissented from it on other points in its 
 dogmatic opposition to the results of scientific enquiry, 
 it was natural that attention should be directed to the 
 bearing of those results on theology. Anthropology, as 
 the new Science of Man came to be called, was materially 
 assisted in the quarrel by Biblical criticism begun in 
 Germany and popularized in England by Colenso and 
 others. The authenticity of the books so long attributed 
 to Moses was questioned and overthrown ; they them- 
 selves were emptied of all historical authority, and put 
 on a level in this respect with the books of heathen 
 nations. Professor Robertson Smith's fight for liberty 
 of criticism in the Free Church of Scotland roused the 
 enthusiasm even of men who did not agree with all his 
 opinions ; and when he was finally ejected from his chair 
 at Aberdeen, he was provided with a home first at 
 Edinburgh and then at Cambridge, and the editorship 
 of the Encycloptedia Britannica. Thus unmuzzled, he 
 devoted himself to the study of Semitic religion and 
 customs on the largest scale and in the most unbiassed 
 spirit. Unfortunately, his health gave way ; and two 
 precious volumes are well-nigh all that has reached us 
 of his labours. But his influence at Cambridge, and par- 
 ticularly over a younger fellow-countryman to whom we 
 owe The Golden Bough, was of a most fruitful character. 
 To the impulse he gave is to be traced much — perhaps 
 more than we suspect — of what anthropology has ac- 
 complished in various directions during the last five-and- 
 twenty years. 
 
 Meanwhile revolt against false interpretation of known 
 facts and inadequate methods of enquiry had spread 
 elsewhere. Professor Max Mailer, by his unsurpassed 
 
PREFACE vii 
 
 powers of exposition, his eloquence and his wide know- 
 ledge of the Aryan tongues, had become the champion 
 in this country of the German explanation of myths as 
 a disease of language, a teacher on whose lips learned 
 and simple hung. Great as was his learning, however, it 
 was circumscribed by the Indo - European languages 
 and literature. He took little account of savage myths 
 which could not be interpreted on his principles, and 
 still less of the equally important rites and beliefs of 
 European peasants and primitive peoples beyond the 
 seas. In Germany, Mannhardt, originally a disciple of 
 the same school, had turned to more reasonable and 
 penetrating modes of interpretation. It is his glory to 
 have been the first to combat the fancies of the philo- 
 logists in a series of works steeped as deeply in classical 
 learning as theirs, but with a much wider outlook and 
 a keener sense of actuality. Yet he died without having 
 made many converts ; and in Germany still the sun-myth 
 lingers, though hastening fast to its inevitable setting. 
 In England his works were hardly known, when, in 1887, 
 Andrew Lang, after a powerful article on "Mythology" in 
 the Encyclopaedia Britannica^ and other preliminary essays, 
 published Myth Ritual and Religion^ in which he attacked 
 with overwhelming acumen and wit the philological 
 position. It is not too much to say that as far as 
 English-speaking countries were concerned the blow was 
 decisive, the philological position was carried, and the 
 enemy's flag planted triumphantly on the battlements. 
 
 The way was thus cleared for a really scientific enquiry 
 into the beginnings of religion. No longer were we 
 hampered with the story of Genesis and the primitive 
 revelation. Our vision was not to be bounded by the 
 Aryan and Semitic peoples. The guesswork of the 
 philological school was at an end, and ritual was admitted 
 
viii RITUAL AND BELIEF 
 
 to be at least as indispensable to the enquiry as story 
 and belief. Professor Tylor had already done something 
 more than pioneer work in the chapters on Mythology 
 and Animism in Primitive Culture. In the chapters on 
 Animism in particiilar he had exhibited the universal 
 belief in the souls, not merely of human beings, but of 
 other animate, and even of inanimate, creatures. He had 
 boldly discussed the relation of this belief to the doctrine 
 of spirits generally, and considered the transitional series 
 of ideas through the cult of the dead, possession, fetishism, 
 idol-worship, and the beliefs of the Christian Fathers. It 
 became evident that a doctrine so complex and subtle, 
 even in its simpler manifestations, could not be an original 
 and innate belief of the human mind, but that it must 
 have been evolved from something simpler, perhaps 
 vaguer, certainly more comprehensive. " A theoretical 
 conception of primitive philosophy, designed to account 
 for phenomena now classed under Biology, especially Life 
 and Death, Health and Disease, Sleep and Dreams, 
 Trance and Visions " pre-supposes a long period of 
 observation, comparison and discussion, during which the 
 ideas slowly took shape and ranged themselves round a 
 central theory. 
 
 The late Mr Andrew Lang was the first seriously to 
 consider the questions involved. His answer, given in 
 The Making of Religion (1898), was twofold. On the 
 one hand, he suggested that " the savage theory of the 
 soul may be based, at least in part, on experiences " — 
 hypnotism, clairvoyance, hallucination, and so forth — 
 " which cannot at present be made to fit into any purely 
 materialistic system of the universe." On the other hand, 
 he contended that " the idea of God, in its earliest known 
 shape, need not logically be derived from the idea of 
 spirit, however that idea itself may have been attained or 
 
PREFACE ix 
 
 evolved." In this he was aiming partly at Sir Edward 
 Tylor's theory of Animism, as developed in the last of 
 his famous chapters on that subject, partly at the theory 
 of the ancient sceptic Euhemerus, revived and championed 
 within recent years by Herbert Spencer and Grant Allen, 
 that gods had been developed out of the ghosts of dead 
 men. He sought to draw a broad distinction between 
 the two concepts, that of a god and that of a spirit of any 
 sort. He claimed that the idea of God was earlier than 
 that of a spirit, and that "a relatively Supreme God," 
 often expressly described as Creator, existing before death 
 came into the world, and practically eternal, had every- 
 where preceded the propitiation of the dead. He did 
 not commit himself to any definite opinion as to how this 
 idea> of a Supreme God was reached by the rude fore- 
 fathers of the race. But when he oracularly observed, 
 " The hypothesis of St Paul seems not the most unsatis- 
 factory," it is no wonder that orthodox readers understood 
 by that expression a primitive revelation, whereas what 
 he meant was the argument from Design as stated in 
 Rom. i. 19, 20. Though Lang's book, therefore, was 
 hailed as a sign that anthropological science was after all 
 coming round to the support of the old orthodoxy, he 
 himself was too true a sceptic to fall satisfactorily into 
 line. In fact, he solved nothing. The " High Gods " 
 of the lowest savages must have had some origin, must 
 have been evolved out of conceptions lower or more 
 indefinite. 
 
 Professor Frazer has approached the problem from 
 another side. In the first edition of The Golden Bough 
 he attempted no definition of Religion ; and the rela- 
 tion of Magic to Religion, therefore, was hardly clear, 
 Critics did not fail to call his attention to this. In the 
 second edition ( 1 900) he accordingly proceeded to define 
 
X RITUAL AND BELIEF 
 
 his position. There, with Sir Alfred Lyall and Professor 
 Jevons, he recognizes "a fundamental distinction and 
 even opposition of principle between magic and religion"; 
 and in The Magic Art, he has more recently somewhat 
 expanded his exposition of their relations. Magic, it 
 appears, is a false science based on the assumption " that 
 in nature one event follows another necessarily and 
 invariably without the intervention of any spiritual or 
 personal agency." Religion is "a propitiation or con- 
 ciliation of powers superior to man which are believed 
 to direct and control the course of nature and of human 
 life." Man began with magic. He knew of no beings 
 superior to himself, and he believed that by certain 
 ceremonies he could cause the results he desired. " Yet 
 his power, great as he believes it to be, is by no means 
 arbitrary and unlimited. He can wield it only so long 
 as he strictly conforms to the rules of his art, or to what 
 may be called the laws of nature as conceived by him. 
 To neglect these rules, to break these laws in the smallest 
 particular is to incur failure, and may even expose the 
 unskilful practitioner himself to the utmost peril. If he 
 claims a sovereignty over nature, it is a constitutional 
 sovereignty, rigorously limited in its scope, and exercised 
 in exact conformity with ancient usage." After a 
 while man found out his blunder. " The shrewder 
 intelligences must in time have come to perceive that 
 magical ceremonies and incantations did not really 
 effect the results they were designed to produce, and 
 which the majority of their simpler fellows still believed 
 that they did actually produce. . . . The discovery 
 amounted to this, that men for the first time recognized 
 their inability to manipulate at pleasure certain natural 
 forces which hitherto they had believed to be completely 
 within their control. It was a confession of human 
 
PREFACE 
 
 XI 
 
 ignorance and weakness. Man saw that he had taken 
 for causes what were no causes, and that all his efforts 
 to work by means of these imaginary causes had been 
 vain. . . . Not that the effects which he had striven 
 so hard to produce did not continue to manifest them- 
 selves. They were still produced, but not by him." 
 In this emergency he turned to " a new system of faith 
 and practice, which seemed to offer a solution of his 
 harassing doubts and a substitute, however precarious, 
 for that sovereignty over nature which he had abdicated. 
 If the great world went on its way without the help 
 of him or his fellows, it must surely be because there 
 were other beings, like himself, but far stronger, who, 
 unseen themselves, directed its course and brought about 
 all the varied series of events which he had hitherto 
 believed to be dependent on his own magic. . . . To 
 these mighty beings, whose handiwork he traced in all 
 the gorgeous and varied pageantry of nature, man now 
 addressed himself, humbly confessing his dependence 
 on their invisible power, and beseeching them of their 
 mercy to furnish him with all good things." Here, 
 to be sure, was a revolution. The Age of Religion 
 succeeded to the Age of Magic, though gradually, 
 reluctantly, and, as regards at least the majority of 
 mankind, incompletely even to the present day. 
 
 It is needless to dwell on the contrast between this 
 hypothesis and Lang's. The one traces religion back to the 
 belief in a Supreme God, the other to a reaction against 
 the belief in magic. They are alike in one respect : they 
 both derive it from an exercise of man's reasoning 
 facilities. It seems a just criticism to say that neither 
 of them takes sufficient account of man's emotional nature. 
 Yet it must have played an important part in the evolution 
 of religion. It is, if I may say so, the merit of another 
 
xii RITUAL AND BELIEF 
 
 enquirer, Dr R, R. Marett, that he was the first to point 
 this out. In an article published in Folk-lore in the 
 year 1900, he analyzed, with psychological knowledge and 
 skill, the experiences that underlay Animism, and came 
 to the conclusion that behind the logic was emotion, the 
 recoil from the uncanny and the mysterious, " that basic 
 feeling of awe, which drives a man, ere he can think or 
 theorize upon it, into personal relations with the Super- 
 natural." Dr Marett's views have been subsequently de- 
 veloped in a series of papers printed in different periodicals 
 and collections, and republished in 1909 in a volume entitled 
 The Threshold of Religion. This has been supplemented 
 more recently by his inaugural lecture as Reader in Social 
 Anthropology at Oxford, on The 'Birth of Humility (19 10), 
 in which he takes the opportunity of criticizing with 
 vivacity and effect Professor Frazer's exposition of the 
 relations of magic and religion. His opinions have been 
 reinforced by the independent enquiries of two learned 
 Frenchmen, MM. Hubert and Mauss, who in 1904 
 published in U Annie Sociologique a remarkable " Esquisse 
 d'une theorie g^ndrale de la Magie," reissued five years 
 later among their collected essays entitled Melanges 
 d'Histoire des Religions. They approach the subject from 
 the social side, insisting that religion is before everything 
 a social matter, its judgements are social judgements, its 
 rites social rites. They point out its intimate connection 
 with magic, and by skilful analysis exhibit the parallelism 
 between them. 
 
 More recently the psychological aspect of the problem 
 has been considered by a group of American writers, 
 notably by Professor James Leuba (A Psychological Study 
 of Religion) and Dr Irving King {The Development of 
 Religion, New York, 19 10). The latter work is a most 
 suggestive and judicious survey of the evidence afforded 
 
PREFACE 
 
 XIU 
 
 by savage rites and belief. The writer insists on the 
 priority of rites to belief, and finds their origin in social 
 activities, largely in what he calls play-activities, and in 
 spontaneous reactions to the environment. The religious 
 attitude may be coeval with these activities, but organized 
 beliefs were developed gradually. The particular forms 
 they took were the result of different social situations, 
 these in turn depending on the physical and cultural 
 environment. " In and so far as they have elements 
 which are similar functionally, religion and magic," he 
 holds, "originally formed a part of a primitive, un- 
 differentiated attitude, and separated from each other 
 as experience became more complex and the requirements 
 of action more varied." Magic became the individualist 
 and antisocial application of the impulses and organized 
 methods of which religion was the social expression and 
 application. 
 
 Lastly, Professor Durkheim, taking Totemism as the 
 most primitive religion known to us, has in Les Formes 
 Elimentaires de la vie Religieuse analyzed elementary con- 
 ceptions, with the result that he derives religious ideas 
 and practices entirely from a social origin. As I have 
 considered his theory more fully on another page, it 
 needs no further reference here. 
 
 Thus at the present moment the controversy stands — 
 if it be legitimate to call it a controversy. Criticism, 
 according to a pregnant saying of Andrew Lang's, is a 
 form of co-operation — of co-operation in the pursuit of 
 truth. The following essays are intended in that spirit 
 as a humble contribution to the discussion. Their 
 primary intention is not controversial. They rather 
 seek to express some of the results of a study of the 
 phenomena, from the point of view of one who has been 
 convinced that the emotions and the imagination — and 
 
xiv RITUAL AND BELIEF 
 
 not merely the individual, but the collective emotions and 
 imagination — have had at least as much to do with the 
 generation of religious practices and beliefs as the reason, 
 and that for the form they may have assumed, physical, 
 social, and cultural influences must be held accountable. 
 
 The essay on "The Relations of Religion and Magic" is 
 an expansion of two presidential addresses, one delivered 
 to the Anthropological Section of the British Association 
 at York in 1906, the other to the section on the Religions 
 of the Lower Culture at the International Congress for 
 the History of Religions" at Oxford in 1908. The essay 
 on "The Rite at the Temple of Mylitta" was contributed 
 to the volume of Anthropological Essays presented to Sir 
 Edward Tylor, in honour of his seventy-fifth birthday, in 
 1907. That on " The Voice of the Stone of Destiny " was 
 published in Folk-lore, 1903. Both of these have under- 
 gone revision. The remaining essays are new. One of 
 them deals as a preliminary with some of the difficulties 
 that beset the enquirer into the religious ideas of the 
 lower races, with wandering fires that mislead him, with 
 barriers that seem impassable. The others seek to 
 concentrate attention on particular instances of ritual or 
 belief, to elucidate the ideas and emotions that underlie 
 them, or further to illustrate their evolution. 1 am 
 indebted to the publishers of such as have been already 
 published for their courtesy in facilitating reproduction 
 here. 
 
 E. SIDNEY HARTLAND 
 
 HiGHGARTH, GLOUCESTER, 
 
 January 19 14. 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 LEARNING TO " THINK BLACK " . 
 THE RELATIONS OF RELIGION AND MAGIC : 
 I. THE COMMON ROOT 
 II. THEORIES AND DEFINITIONS 
 
 III. DEVELOPMENT 
 
 IV. DIVERGENCE 
 THE BOLDNESS OF THE CELTS 
 THE HAUNTED WIDOW 
 THE PHILOSOPHY OF MOURNING CLOTHES 
 THE RITE AT THE TEMPLE OF MYLITTA 
 THE VOICE OF THE STONE OF DESTINY 
 
 BIBLIOGRAPHICAL LIST 
 
 INDEX ..... 
 
 PAGE 
 I 
 
 26 
 
 66 
 
 89 
 
 128 
 
 161 
 
 194. 
 
 235 
 266 
 
 290 
 
 329 
 346 
 
RITUAL AND BELIEF 
 
 LEARNING TO "THINK BLACK" 
 
 Sir Edward Tylor begins the chapters on Animism in 
 that great work which laid the foundation of the modern 
 study of the history of civilization, by a discussion of the 
 evidence for the existence of tribes destitute of religion. 
 In some half-dozen pages he easily shows that the 
 existence of such tribes, " though in theory possible, and 
 perhaps in fact true, does not at present rest on that 
 sufficient proof which, for an exceptional state of things, 
 we are entitled to demand." He convicts travellers and 
 missionaries who have made the assertion, of contradicting 
 themselves ; and he renders probable that the denial of 
 religion to peoples in the lower culture is begotten of a 
 perverted judgement in theological matters, and "the use 
 of wide words in narrow senses." ^ 
 
 Other causes are equally prolific of error in regard to 
 savage beliefs. Sir Edward Tylor refers to haste and 
 imperfect acquaintance by the traveller with the people 
 whose beliefs he is professing to repeat. These are 
 obvious causes on which it is needless to dwell. Many 
 peoples, too, are accustomed out of mere politeness to 
 endeavour to divine what sort of answer to his remarks 
 will please a guest, or what sort of answer an enquirer 
 expects to his questions, and to make it accordingly, 
 
 1 Prim. CuL, i. 378 sqq. 
 
 I I 
 
2 RITUAL AND BELIEF 
 
 regardless whether it has any relation to the facts or not. 
 This courtier-like etiquette of agreement applies to every 
 subject, and is emphasized when the enquirer is an 
 official or social superior from whom favour may be 
 looked for or displeasure apprehended. The Malayans, 
 a jungle tribe of southern India, invariably say "Yes " in 
 reply to a question by a government officer or a member 
 of a higher caste, " believing that a negative answer might 
 displease him." ^ In such cases it is difficult to extract 
 the truth on the most indifferent and trivial, to say 
 nothing of weightier, matters. 
 
 Passing over these commonplaces, let us pause for a 
 moment on another cause mentioned by Tylor, namely, 
 the natural reluctance of savages to reveal " to the prying 
 and contemptuous foreigner their worship of gods who 
 seem to shrink, like their worshippers, before the white 
 man and his mightier Deity." ^ Very instructive is the 
 account given by Kolben of the Hottentots. Writing 
 in the early years of the eighteenth century, he says it 
 is " a difficult thing to get out of the Hottentots what 
 are really their notions concerning God and religion, or 
 whether they have any at all. They keep all their religious 
 opinions and ceremonies, as they do every other matter 
 established among them, as secret as they can from 
 Europeans, and when they are questioned concerning 
 such matters are very shy in their answers and hide the 
 truth as much as they can." They take refuge from 
 questions in "a thousand fictions," which they excuse, 
 when taxed with them, by alleging that " the Europeans 
 are a crafty, designing people. They never ask a question 
 for the sake of the answer only, but have other ends 
 to serve, perhaps against the peace and security of the 
 Hottentots." From this source, we are told, have sprung 
 
 I Anantha Krishna, i. 29. ^ Tylor, P^im. CuL, i. 382. 
 
LEARNING TO "THINK BLACK" 3 
 
 most of the contradictions to be found in authors upon 
 the religion of the Hottentots.^ More than a hundred 
 years after Kolben's day a British traveller, exploring 
 Great Namaqualand under the auspices of the British 
 Government and of the Royal Geographical Society, 
 assembled some of the old men among the Namaqua and 
 put them through an examination. His thirst for 
 information was doubtless praiseworthy ; and he was at 
 least successful in proving, albeit unconsciously, the 
 truth of the older traveller's words. For the proceeding 
 he adopted affords a brilliant example of " how not to do 
 it." I quote some of his questions : "What laws have 
 the Namaqua ? " Answer — " They have none ; they 
 only listen to their chiefs." " Do the people know any- 
 thing of the stars ? " Answer — " Nothing." " Do the 
 Namaqua believe in lucky and unlucky days .'' " Answer — 
 " They don't know anything of these things." " Are 
 there rainmakers in the land.?" Answer — "None." 
 "What do the old Namaqua think becomes of people 
 when they die .'' " Answer — " They know nothing of 
 these things ; all they see is that the people die and are 
 buried, but what becomes of them they know not ; and 
 before the missionaries came to the Great River the people 
 had never heard of another world." * 
 
 Many European casuists justify one who is questioned 
 concerning matters he desires to keep secret, and who 
 meets the inquisitive person with a falsehood. It cannot 
 therefore be surprising that these poor Hottentots thus 
 took advantage of the only defence open to them when 
 they found their most cherished beliefs and customs the 
 subject of impertinent and bungling interrogations by an 
 
 ' Kolben, gi. 
 
 ^ Alexander, i. 170 sgf. Similar answers were more recendy given to a 
 missionary by one of the neighbouring Bergdamara, a people mainly of 
 Bantu blood {Globus, xcvi. 173). 
 
4 RITUAL AND BELIEF 
 
 unsympathetic intruder into their country. Their Bantu 
 neighbours do the same. The Kaffir, we are told, 
 "dislikes to find Europeans investigating his customs, 
 and he usually hides all he can from them and takes 
 a sportive pleasure in baffling and misleading them."^ 
 When questioned by Andersson, the Ovambo denied 
 that they had any belief, or abruptly stopped him with a 
 " Hush ! " * Prying of this kind is rarely welcomed even 
 among peoples on a much higher plane of civilization. 
 Not to appeal to our own feelings, we may take as an 
 illustration a people of the Far East. To question a 
 native of Korea concerning custom or belief at once 
 arouses his suspicions. Indeed, for a stranger to enquire 
 the number of houses in a village, or what the land 
 produces, needs much tact if bad feeling is to be avoided. 
 A missionary who lived for many years in the country 
 was of opinion that people are unconscious of their 
 customs. At any rate a Korean asked suddenly about a 
 certain custom will in all likelihood deny that such a 
 thing exists ; and yet he may be absolutely free from 
 dishonesty in the matter : he is simply unconscious, he 
 has never thought about it.* 
 
 To this point we will return directly : our present 
 point is the conscious refusal of information. And here 
 it should be noted that savages, as well as others, do not 
 hide their beliefs only because they do not understand 
 the motive of enquiry, or because they are afraid of 
 ridicule or of the denunciations of the missionary, even 
 where the Christian priest can call down the thunderbolt 
 of the magistrate. These reasons operate, but not alone. 
 
 * Kidd, 65. Amusing illustrations of the Kaffir's cleverness at the game 
 are given. 
 
 2 Andersson, 200. Cf. Pogge on the Bashilange, Mittheil. d. Afrik. 
 Gesellsch., iv. 254. 
 
 3 Rev. J. S. Gale, F. L., xi. 325. 
 
LEARNING TO "THINK BLACK" 5 
 
 From all quarters of the world comes the report that the 
 native is uncommunicative. The Lengua Indians of the 
 Paraguayan Chaco are quite aware that their "supersti- 
 tion is regarded with disfavour by the missionaries " ; 
 but they are naturally " very reticent in these matters," 
 and their reticence is only heightened — not caused — by 
 this knowledge.^ An excellent illustration of the 
 difficulty of discovering the beliefs and even the practices 
 of savages is afforded by Mr Batchelor, a missionary who, 
 having resided among the Ainu of Japan for more than 
 twelve years, wrote an interesting book upon them. He 
 naturally supposed that so long a residence and intimacy 
 with them entitled him to think he knew practically all 
 that could be told about them. Alas for the fallibility of 
 even a careful observer ! There was one chamber in the 
 mind of every Ainu which he had not explored. When 
 another twelve years had elapsed he wrote that "when 
 writing that book I must frankly confess that I had no 
 idea, nor had I for many years after, that ophiolatry was 
 practised at all by this people." And all the while the 
 Ainu whom he knew so well were holding beliefs, 
 relating myths, and practising rites of which he had not 
 the least suspicion.^ Nor is there any reason to suggest 
 that they were concealing those things from him out of 
 fear of ridicule or clerical reproofs. 
 
 Deeper reasons exist. German missionaries have been 
 labouring for a number of years among the tribes on the 
 north-eastern coast of New Guinea. In view of the 
 various difficulties attending the investigation of the 
 beliefs of these tribes the latest scientific explorer of the 
 country called in the aid of some of the more experienced 
 
 1 S. H. C. Hawtry, /. A. I., xxxi. 290. Cf. Grubb, 1 14. Similar state- 
 ments are made concerning other South American tribes (/. A. /., xiii. 
 209, 253). ' Batchelor, 357. 
 
6 RITUAL AND BELIEF 
 
 of the missionaries. He thus sums up the position : 
 " The heathen Papuan is a reticent fellow, and no power 
 in the world can move him to disclose the secrets of his 
 fathers. He has too much fear of the vengeance of the 
 spirits and of the sorcerers, who would infallibly kill him 
 if he betrayed the smallest thing. Long years of work 
 accomplished with endless patience have been necessary 
 to convince the Black that sorcery is powerless, — that 
 it is all lies and deceit. Only if he is about to be 
 baptized wiU he voluntarily deliver up to his teacher his 
 knowledge of witchcraft and its methods. In plain terms, 
 he feels the need on this point to lighten both his 
 conscience and his pocket." ^ Reasons of this order have 
 never been better put than by an eminent French 
 anthropologist whose untimely death a few years ago was 
 a serious blow to the cause of science. Reviewing the 
 work of a lady for whom English colleagues yet mourn, 
 he says : " The savage does not like to speak of his 
 belief ; he fears the contemptuous mockery of the 
 Whites. Perhaps, too, he fears to give an advantage over 
 himself, in allowing more to be known than is fitting of 
 the rites by which he tries to conciliate the benevolence 
 of the spirits, or to turn away their disfavour from his 
 hut and his plantations. To make known his resources 
 for the fight would be to half-disarm him ; surrounded 
 with supernatural dangers, he does not wUlingly indicate 
 the supernatural means by which he guarantees himself 
 against them." ^ One other reason may be added to these : 
 a reason probably operative in many more cases than 
 enquirers have been aware of. The things after which 
 they ask are often " revealed only to the initiate. An 
 
 ' Neuhauss, iii. 448 note. C/\ Introduction and pp. 154, 507. 
 ^ Marillier, reviewing Miss Kingsleys Travels ; Rev. Hist. Rel., xxxix. 
 137- 
 
LEARNING TO "THINK BLACK" 7 
 
 outsider, one who is not known to be, or at least treated 
 as, an initiate, wiU seek in vain by means direct or 
 indirect for information on these matters. A stony 
 silence or repeated lies are all he will get. This has 
 been the cause of much mystification and many contra- 
 dictory statements about tribes in various parts of the 
 world, not the least in Australia.^ 
 
 It is not suggested, of course, that all contradictory 
 statements emanate from the deliberate mystification of 
 non-initiate enquirers. We have not by any means 
 exhausted the causes of error in regard to savage beliefs. 
 Contradictory statements are made in good faith because 
 those who make them hold contradictory beliefs. On the 
 subject, for example, of the future life the mutually de- 
 structive character of the beliefs often held by the same 
 tribes, and even by the same individuals, is one of the 
 truisms of anthropology. The Zulus and their neigh- 
 bours hold that their dead are to be recognized in the 
 form of various animals, notably snakes, that haunt the 
 tomb or the abodes of the living, and yet that these 
 very dead dwell in the bowels of the earth, presiding in 
 patriarchal fashion over shadowy kraals, and rejoicing in 
 the possession of herds of sky-blue kine with red and 
 white spots. Moreover, notwithstanding this wealth of 
 cattle, they are dependent, if not for their continued 
 existence, at least for their comfort, on the sacrifices 
 offered by their descendants. The truth is that "the 
 whole spirit-world is one of haze and uncertainty." ^ 
 This opinion, expressed by an experienced missionary, 
 
 ''Spencer and Gillen, C. T., 139 note. 
 
 ' Rev. J. Macdonald,/.^. /., XX. 120. C/.]uriod,S.A.Tri6e,n.27ii. Dr 
 Theal says that it is only since European ideas have been disseminated 
 among these peoples that the question of the place of the dead has arisen ; 
 and he points to the similarity in mental condition between them and 
 the peasantry of Europe {Yellow and Dark-skinned People, 185). 
 
8 RITUAL AND BELIEF 
 
 is true of all savage and barbarous nations. It is no 
 merely the doctrine of souls that is difficult to under- 
 stand fully and to state clearly : all the relations with the 
 supernatural are shifting ; and the supernatural itself 
 melts away into mist and gloom and the undefined terrors 
 of night. 
 
 Proof of the mental capacity of peoples in the lower 
 culture, and their alertness within the narrow range of 
 their appetites, their bodily needs, and the warfare they 
 wage for existence against untoward environment of 
 various kinds, is to be found in every record of explora- 
 tion, in the reports of every missionary. Beyond that 
 range there are difFerences between races, as between 
 individuals, in reasoning power, in curiosity, and in 
 general development. Some cause to us unknown may 
 have turned the thoughts of one people into profounder 
 and subtler channels than those of another. We are told 
 of two neighbouring tribes in California that their difFer- 
 ences are very striking, and are based on deep-lying racial 
 factors. The mythology of the one is more dramatic, 
 that of the other is more metaphysical, exhibiting 
 " more of the power of abstract thought and intellectual 
 conception." ^ We must beware of reading too extensive 
 a meaning into what is after all merely a comparison of 
 characteristics. It is adduced here for the sole purpose 
 of illustrating the statement that such difFerences exist 
 even between tribes that are subject to similar external 
 influences. In spite of these difFerences the unanimous 
 verdict, alike of missionaries and explorers, scientific 
 enquirers and traders, given with tiresome iteration, is 
 that of dormant faculties, want of interest, inability to 
 follow a train of thought, and dislike of intellectual 
 efFort. These are qualities that we are sufficiently familiar 
 
 • Journ. Am. F. L., xxi. 233, 236. 
 
LEARNING TO "THINK BLACK 9 
 
 with at home to render them fully credible in " the poor 
 heathen." Ask a man anywhere — ask a Zulu, ask an 
 English peasant — why such and such a thing is done. 
 He will tell you : " It is the custom," and will look at 
 you with wondering eyes that you can demand a 
 reason or dream of any alternative as possible. Custom 
 to him is more than a second nature. It is nature itself, 
 the established order, the cosmos. To conceive of 
 departure from it would entail a greater burden of 
 thought than he has ever undertaken or would willingly 
 bear. It may even be so much a part of his existence 
 that, like the Korean referred to above, he is barely 
 conscious of it. 
 
 In such a case the custom may be denied in perfect 
 good faith. Sometimes, it is true, another cause may 
 lead to the denial. This is well illustrated in a recent 
 work on the Holy Land. The author, speaking of local 
 variations of custom, says : " The small area in which 
 peculiar customs occur, and the comparative isolation of 
 these areas which still prevails, make it often extremely 
 difficult to ascertain local customs and usages. Many of 
 these can only be discovered accidentally or by long 
 residence in the particular locality. The people of 
 neighbouring villages may be quite unaware of the 
 existence of a certain custom, while only a few miles 
 away it may be very familiar. I have known intelligent, 
 educated natives to be entirely ignorant of certain customs, 
 and even to deny their existence, because they were not 
 in vogue in their own particular district, whereas further 
 enquiry or fuller acquaintance with other parts revealed 
 the fact that they were perfectly familiar to others." ^ 
 Here the expression " intelligent, educated natives " must 
 be interpreted of course by reference to the standard 
 
 ' Wilson, Peasant Life, 6. 
 
lo RITUAL AND BELIEF 
 
 of intelligence and education in the rural parts of a 
 country so backward as Palestine. In such a case the 
 ignorance by natives described as intelligent and educated 
 of customs quite diiFerent from, and perhaps opposed to, 
 their own may be due to the concentration of their 
 faculties in the struggle for daily needs, or the absorption 
 of their interests in the concerns of their own little 
 community. Millions of men and women in our country, 
 who may be fairly described, by reference to their class 
 and occupation, as "intelligent, educated natives," are 
 quite ignorant — and supremely indifferent — about every- 
 thing not pertaining to their material well-being, their 
 habitual amusements, the affairs of their little town, their 
 family or their church, or the latest scandal whispered in 
 their tiny coterie. These fill up their life ; they have 
 neither leisure nor inclination to worry about anything 
 beyond. We cannot, therefore, be surprised that where 
 the facilities for communication are smaller and the 
 general indigence greater, similar mental indolence may 
 exist. Economic causes, the product themselves of the 
 environment, are often responsible for internal conditions, 
 and cannot be disentangled from them. Intelligent 
 curiosity about things not immediately or apparently 
 affecting ourselves is a rare virtue, and of late develop- 
 ment. We ourselves often deem that we pay it abundant 
 homage by witnessing the exhibition of a few lantern 
 slides, or slumbering tranquilly through a lecture on 
 Dante. But to it, if rightly and strenuously pursued, we 
 owe how much of modern discovery and the amenities of 
 civilization ! Let us, however, return to our savages. 
 
 Of the Nootkas or Ahts of Vancouver Island we are told 
 by Sproat in a passage that has often been quoted that he 
 "had abundant proof in conversing with them about 
 matters in which they took an interest, that their mental 
 
LEARNING TO "THINK BLACK" ii 
 
 capacities are by no means small. It is true that the 
 native mind, to an educated man, seems generally to be 
 asleep ; and if you suddenly ask a novel question, you 
 have to repeat it while the mind of the savage is awak- 
 ing, and to speak with emphasis until he has got your 
 meaning. This may partly arise from the questioner's 
 imperfect knowledge of the language ; still, I think, not 
 entirely, as the savage may be observed occasionally to 
 become forgetful when voluntarily communicating informa- 
 tion. On his attention being fully aroused he often shows 
 much quickness in reply and ingenuity in argument. 
 But a short conversation wearies him, particularly if 
 questions are asked that require efforts of thought or 
 memory on his part. The mind of the savage then 
 appears to rock to and fro out of mere weakness, and he 
 tells lies and talks nonsense." ^ On this Professor Boas, 
 the distinguished American anthropologist, comments 
 thus : " I happen to know through personal contact the 
 tribes mentioned by Sproat. The questions put by the 
 traveller seem mostly trifling to the Indian ; and he 
 naturally soon tires of a conversation carried on in a 
 foreign language, and one in which he finds nothing 
 to interest him. As a matter of fact, the interest of 
 those natives can easily be raised to a high pitch, and 
 I have often been the one who was wearied out first. 
 Neither does the management of their intricate system 
 of exchange prove mental inertness in matters which 
 concern the natives. Without mnemonic aids, they 
 plan the systematic distribution of their property in 
 such a manner as to increase their wealth and social 
 position. These plans require great foresight and 
 constant application." ^ 
 
 So far as this comment is directed to depreciate the 
 ' Sproat, 1 20. 2 Boas, Mind, iii. 
 
12 RITUAL AND BELIEF 
 
 value of Sproat's estimate of the mental powers of the 
 Nootkas, I cannot think that Professor Boas has been 
 quite fair to the writer. Sproat was no passing traveller, 
 speaking to the natives in a foreign language, and jotting 
 down superficial impressions derived from hasty observa- 
 tion. He had "lived among them and had a long 
 acquaintanceship with them." He was a settler, and for 
 five years a colonial magistrate in constant contact with 
 several of their tribes. His own account of his method 
 of collecting information and the substance of his book 
 are conclusive as to his painstaking researches ; and 
 Professor Boas himself elsewhere bears testimony to his 
 trustworthiness.^ Moreover, a comparison of the quota- 
 tions renders it clear that on the whole they confirm one 
 another. Probably, however, Professor Boas' criticism is 
 intended to apply not so much to Sproat's statements as 
 to the use made of them by Herbert Spencer and other 
 theorists. It comes to this, therefore, that the Nootka's 
 mental capacity is considerable, his mind is alert and 
 active on subjects that interest him, but that he is not 
 interested in many of those on which an anthropologist 
 desires to learn, and hence he speedily becomes " bored " 
 and answers at random. 
 
 The horizon of savage interests among the neighbouring 
 Dene or Ten'a of the Yukon Valley is thus defined by an 
 experienced missionary : " The activity of their minds is 
 commonly confined within a narrow circle, as is evidenced 
 by their favourite subjects of conversation. Food, hunt- 
 ing and fishing, with their attendant circumstances, family 
 happenings, health and disease, devils and their actions, 
 sexual propensities — such are the topics which practically 
 sum up the encyclopsedia of their conversation." " The 
 
 1 Boas, Sixth Report on the North-western Tribes of Canada, Rep. 
 Brit. Ass., 1890, 582. 
 
LEARNING TO "THINK BLACK" 13 
 
 Ten'a mind," he says in another place, " is anything but 
 speculative, and its imaginative powers have not been 
 turned to building theories of its belief, but rather to 
 excogitate a variety of ways whereby this belief per- 
 severingly asserts itself." The native's "dogmas are 
 very nebulous and undefined, and he has never heard 
 them explicitly formulated, nor even attempted to state 
 them distinctly to himself." Consequently, "whereas 
 there is a certain uniformity in the practices, and an over- 
 abundance of them, there are very few points of belief 
 common to several individuals, and these are of the 
 vaguest kind." ^ 
 
 If we turn to an entirely different race, the same features 
 present themselves. The capacity of the Bantu peoples 
 of the Lower Congo for the intellectual acts of perception, 
 recognition, memory, and so forth, is well developed and 
 appears early in childhood. " In this respect the natives 
 are much on a par with the civilized races ; but the limit 
 is reached early in life, and but little mental progress is 
 observable after adolescence is reached. The ideas are 
 mostly of the simpler forms, seldom passing the concretes 
 of actual experience, generalizations being as a rule 
 beyond their power. Association of ideas, though good 
 as implied by good memory, only takes place in the 
 concrete form of contiguity in time and space as actually 
 already perceived ; analogies are confined to the crudest 
 forms, and a very simple figure of speech is apt to be 
 unintelligible. . . . The fundamental act of intelligence, 
 the intuition of likeness and unlikeness, is very circum- 
 scribed ; and high acts of intellect are thereby negatived. 
 . . . An accompanying trait is the absence of rational 
 surprise. On seeing something new a vacant wonder is 
 all that is observable ; and this is very transient, and the 
 1 Rev. Father J. Jettd, S.J., Anthropos, vi. 242, 95. 
 
14 RITUAL AND BELIEF 
 
 new experience is classified as ' white man's fashion.' It 
 almost follows as a matter of course that there is no 
 curiosity, no wish to enquire into the cause of a novel 
 experience ; it never occurs to the native that there is a 
 cause of the novelty or an explanation required. In like 
 manner there is almost total absence of theorizing about 
 natural phenomena." In fact, the relation of cause and 
 effect in all but the most patent and mechanical cases is 
 said to be beyond his grasp.^ In general terms this 
 description may stand for all the Bantu, due allowance 
 being made, as pointed out above, for individual and 
 tribal differences. 
 
 The natural result is vagueness on all religious and 
 metaphysical subjects. This is a characteristic of savages 
 all over the world. Nor is it limited by any means to 
 them. Recent investigations have established the evolu- 
 tion of some at least of the majestic figures of the 
 Olympian Pantheon from not merely rude but vague and 
 nameless personalities ; and to the very end of Hellenic 
 religion, unknown gods and dim, indefinite heroes con- 
 tinued to be honoured not merely in every country place, 
 but in Athens herself. The Arabs of Moab have professed 
 for many generations the religion of the Prophet. Yet 
 they have the feeblest apprehension of that great Allah in 
 whom they are supposed to believe. When questioned 
 on his nature, his abode, his occupation, they usually 
 answer: "We do not know." One of them told a 
 missionary : " It is said that Allah is like an old man with 
 a white beard, but I do not know where he dwells ; it is 
 asserted that he is above," pointing to the sky. They 
 also honour numerous beings called by the generic name 
 of Wely (protector or friend), who are identified with 
 rocks, trees, and other holy places. Even of these, how- 
 
 1 R. C. Phillips,/. A. I., xvii. 220. 
 
LEARNING TO "THINK BLACK" 15 
 
 ever, their ideas are obscure. Like the local hero of the 
 Greeks, the Wely is not as a rule individualized with a 
 personal name. Who he is in most cases is unknown. 
 His exact connection with the spot where he is honoured 
 is equally unknown. Some Arabs say that it is he who 
 gives vigour to the sacred tree ; others declare that he 
 dweUs beneath it, or that he dwells in the branches and 
 the leaves ; but Allah knows.^ And the pious reference 
 to Allah and his knowledge is sufficient for the Arab. 
 
 The fact is that on these subjects the majority of the 
 human race, whether savage or civilized, think little. 
 Their minds are seldom excited to the point of reasoning 
 on their beliefs. They accept what they are told, and 
 do not even know whether they believe it or not, because 
 they have never reflected upon it. One has only to talk 
 for a few minutes to a peasant at home to find out how 
 narrow the border of his knowledge is, how misty and 
 uncertain is everything beyond the routine of his daily 
 life and the village gossip and amusements, unless where 
 in the neighbourhood of a town the supreme interests 
 of football open to him a prospect into another world. 
 Gossip, amusements, his daily bread are subjects of 
 importance ; they fill his horizon ; on them his views 
 are perfectly definite. Nor does he differ in this respect 
 from people who are looked upon as his social superiors. 
 It would be making too strenuous a demand upon their 
 intellectual life to expect them to rise above the markets, 
 the newspaper, the latest novel, the county cricket-score, 
 and the problems of golf and bridge. All the rest they 
 are content to leave to their professional advisers, who 
 in nine cases out of ten, if the truth must be told, have 
 as little taste or capacity as themselves for metaphysical 
 speculation, historical research or theological enquiry, and 
 
 > Jaussen, 287, 294, 332, 334. Cf. Hanauer, 234. 
 
1 6 RITUAL AND BELIEF 
 
 are bound as tighdy in the cords of tradition as the far 
 more imaginative Zulu medicine-man, or the Eskimo 
 wizard. For the average man in civilization appraises 
 the subjects of thought no otherwise than does his brother 
 in savagery. Each alike is eminently practical. Some- 
 thing done, or to be done, by himself or others is what 
 interests him. Some personal gain, some bodily pleasure 
 — for this he will think and think hard ; all other mental 
 exertion must be easy and short. Nor could the human 
 race exist on any other terms. 
 
 Still further difficulties beset the enquirer into the 
 beliefs of the lower culture. On the threshold is that of 
 language. To be sure that you have grasped the real 
 meaning of your savage friend you must be able to talk 
 his language as he talks it himself — and even then you 
 may be mistaken. "When there is no certain medium 
 of communication," says Bishop Codrington, writing of 
 the Melanesians, " when a native interpreter who speaks 
 a little broken English is employed to ask questions 
 and to return the answers, nothing can be depended on 
 as certain which is received. To be able to use some 
 European word, or word supposed to be English, to 
 describe a native practice or to convey a native belief, is 
 to have an easy means of giving information ; and so 
 among the islands ' plenty devil ' is the description given 
 of a sacred spot, and ' tevoro ' (devil) in Fiji has become 
 the common appellation of the native ghosts or spirits. 
 Supposing, again, that the enquirer is able to communi- 
 cate pretty freely on ordinary subjects in the language of 
 any island, he will surely find himself baffled when any 
 one of the elder people undertakes to give him information. 
 The vocabulary of ordinary life is almost useless when the 
 region of mysteries and superstitions is approached." ^ 
 > /. A. I., X. 262. 
 
LEARNING TO "THINK BLACK" 17 
 
 The use of the word " devil," universal in and around 
 Melanesia when speaking in pigeon English of the native 
 mysteries and the objects of the native cult or fear, 
 illustrates one of the pitfalls in the path of the anthro- 
 pologist. The native ideas do not coincide with ours. 
 The history, the environment, the social and intellectual 
 condition of peoples in the lower culture are as diverse 
 from ours as their geographical situation. Consequently 
 their speech contains no equivalent for many of our 
 words, even of words that seem to us to convey ideas 
 elementary and simple. No Australian language possesses a 
 word which is the exact equivalent of our word " mother." 
 The word we roughly equate with " mother " includes a 
 host of other women beside her who has given birth to 
 the child. Some of these women we should designate as 
 " aunt," or as " stepmother " ; but many of them stand in 
 no relation of kinship according to our reckoning. Yet 
 they are all addressed and spoken of by the same term 
 as the veritable mother. Kinship, in fact, is counted in 
 the lower culture along lines quite different from ours ; 
 and though it is probable that our degrees of kindred 
 have evolved from a rudimentary condition similar to 
 that which we find among savages, we have so far out- 
 grown it that their reckoning is often unintelligible to 
 us, and only a very few of the terms in use among 
 European nations remain to point back to an earlier 
 stage of development. If we have this difficulty in 
 finding equivalents for terms expressive of the simplest 
 relationships of our social life, how much greater must 
 be our difficulty when we come to terms expressive of 
 the mysterious and supersensual relations of man to the 
 unknown and dimly conceived powers of the universe 
 about him ! We have no word to render the Fijian 
 
 mana, the Siouan wakan, the Malagasy andria-manitra. 
 
 2 
 
1 8 RITUAL AND BELIEF 
 
 Conversely, scarce a savage language can render our word 
 " God." Over and over again missionaries have sought, 
 and sought, in vain, for a native word for the purpose. 
 When they have fixed upon one, as often as not they 
 have had to confess a blunder ; and many times in 
 despair they have invented a word. The idea embodied 
 in the acts by which the mysterious relations between 
 man and the supernatural are emphasized and knit 
 together is equally incapable of translation by any one 
 vocable. A Roman Catholic missionary, speaking of the 
 religious assembly of the Creeks of North America, says : 
 " The mitewewin represents the highest expression of 
 magic {maeghiw or maskikiy) among the nations of the 
 Algonkian stock. The word, in fact, signifies at the same 
 time labour, occupation, judgement, adoration, and 
 sacrifice. It is a religious act addressed to the powakans, 
 or animal fetishes, and a sort of lUinoian freemasonry 
 requiring initiation and inviolable secrecy ; it is a camp- 
 meeting . . . ; it is the grand council of an entire 
 nation."^ These sentences afFord an excellent example 
 of the difficulty of translating the native ideas into 
 English words. They unite a brave and more or less 
 successful attempt to convey the notion of mitewewin, 
 with incidental but none the less certain failures in the 
 cases of maeghiw or maskikiy and powakan. For none of 
 them would a single English word, or even a phrase, be 
 adequate. 
 
 The opportunity of blundering in the endeavour to 
 understand and report the beliefs and usages of the lower 
 races is obviously as great as could be desired. When to 
 the various causes enumerated above is added not merely 
 the conscious want of sympathy on the part of the 
 observer, but his unconscious prejudice in favour of 
 > Bull. Soc. Neuch. GSog., ix. 96. 
 
LEARNING TO "THINK BLACK" 19 
 
 certain interpretations derived from the civilized and the 
 specifically Christian notions in which he has been brought 
 up from his youth, the wonder is not that so many 
 mistakes have been made, but that we have on the whole 
 succeeded in obtaining so large a mass of fairly trust- 
 worthy information. Even that of which we are the best 
 assured, however, must be used with caution. It must be 
 criticized, checked with other accounts of the same or 
 neighbouring tribes ; and allowance must be made for 
 the personal equation of the observer. The use of a 
 word like worship, spirit, or God, which connotes to us 
 very different ideas from those connoted to the native 
 mind by the native word thus translated, must put us at 
 once on our guard. Fancied resemblances between the 
 myths, heard perhaps at second-hand and only half- 
 understood, and some story. Biblical or other, known to 
 the reporter, and the expectation of finding in savage 
 tradition some fragment of divine revelation have proved 
 real Will-o'-the-wisps to the unwary. Nor must we 
 forget that things actually seen are also liable to be 
 misinterpreted. Captain John Smith, in writing of 
 Virginia, describes as a human sacrifice — a sacrifice of 
 children — what seems to have been no more than the 
 ceremony of initiation into manhood.-^ It is true that his 
 account was written three hundred years ago, and that he 
 was not allowed to witness the whole performance. But 
 after all our subsequent experience and accumulation of 
 records, nothing is harder even yet than to determine 
 the meaning of ceremonies and institutions, often carefully 
 examined and minutely described by skilled eyewitnesses 
 and scientific explorers. 
 
 We may go further still. Where the observer puts aside 
 his prejudices, where he is animated by true sympathy — 
 1 J. Smith, 77, 373- 
 
20 RITUAL AND BELIEF 
 
 not the false and mawkish sympathy that too often takes 
 its place — where he is able to communicate with the 
 natives in their own tongue, there is notwithstanding 
 very often a difficulty in following their ideas. We have 
 been told of the Andaman Islanders that " with these, as 
 with other savages, it is vain to expect them to under- 
 stand the logical conclusions to which their beliefs tend." * 
 That may be because they have never thought them out. 
 In the majority of cases it would probably be juster to 
 say that their logic follows a different course, their ideas 
 run in different channels, from ours. After conceding 
 everything that has been said with perfect truth as to 
 their vagueness, their indolence of mind on subjects not 
 concerned with their daily life, and their dislike of 
 intellectual effort, there remains the fact that they are 
 human ; they do reason, albeit after their own fashion. 
 Language among the higher races has been trained and 
 tortured during many centuries to express the highest 
 thoughts of the highest thinkers ; and how inadequate an 
 instrument has it often been found ! It must therefore 
 not surprise us if the thought of races in the lower 
 culture occasionally surpasses a language not yet exercised 
 and adapted to the complicated processes of ideation and 
 ratiocination. Thus not merely is it difficult or impossible 
 to translate native words by English equivalents, as I 
 have already pointed out : the native finds it not easy to 
 translate his thoughts into his own tongue. When he 
 has struggled with more or less success to effect this, his 
 course of thought is so widely different from ours that 
 we can hardly believe in its coherence. 
 
 The objects of thought, alike among savages and among 
 ourselves, fall into categories. Many of these categories 
 manifest themselves in the very fibre of language. A 
 
 ^ J. A. /., xii. 163 note. 
 
LEARNING TO "THINK BLACK" 21 
 
 familiar illustration is the curious distinctions of 
 grammatical gender, so different even in different 
 languages sprung from a common stock, and those 
 comparatively simple, as are the Aryan tongues of 
 civilization. When we refer to the languages of the 
 lower culture, with their minute distinctions of number 
 and person, of action, tense, and all sorts of relations of 
 time and place, we are overwhelmed by their complexity 
 and puzzled by the oddness of their grouping. Categories 
 of another kind become visible when we attempt to push 
 our explorations further into savage thought. The count- 
 ing of kinship and the difficulties attending the attempt to 
 translate words expressive of religious ideas have already 
 been mentioned. In the totemism of Australia the 
 totems are classes of animals or other objects not merely 
 united by some mystic bond to one or other class of 
 tribesmen ; they are related to other objects of human 
 environment in such a way that the whole universe is 
 shared among them. To us these relationships are strange 
 and inexplicable ; they form categories that we do not 
 understand. To the native these categories are familiar 
 by immemorial association ; they have become part of the 
 texture of his mind ; and thereby they have acquired 
 emotional values, from the bonds of which he can hardly 
 deliver himself. So it seems that the West African Bantu 
 comprise their entire social system, every activity of their 
 mental and physical life, and every aspect of the external 
 universe under a limited number of categories wholly 
 alien to our modes of thought. Hints of them are 
 perhaps to be found in the various classes of Bantu nouns 
 that have not yet been fully explained by philologists. 
 In any case the classification of these nouns is probably 
 no arbitrary association of purely formal significance. It 
 is based on some archaic experience, which has grouped 
 
22 RITUAL AND BELIEF 
 
 together various objects often to us utterly dissimilar : 
 the connecting links escape us.^ Among other peoples 
 in parts of the earth remote from one another categories 
 have been discovered associating and dissociating acts 
 and modes of feeling, and apportioning their environment 
 in unexpected ways. Such categories must react on 
 mentality to an extent that we can hardly measure. They 
 form part of the traditional presuppositions of thought. 
 They are the framework in which ideas are grouped. We, 
 who have gradually elaborated and established through 
 generations of increasing discovery and invention a habit 
 of regarding everything from a more or less scientific 
 standpoint, have acquired a series of presuppositions of 
 an entirely different character. To the educated classes 
 of Europe and America they in their turn have become 
 traditional. They are the axioms from which we argue. 
 Every new experience must be fitted into the framework 
 thus supplied, otherwise we cannot logically interpret it. 
 At the best we may make for it what has been wittily 
 called a watertight compartment. Men of the lower 
 culture brought suddenly into contact with civilization 
 and civilized ideas experience a corresponding difficulty. 
 Missionaries are often in despair over their converts' 
 relapses. These relapses are occasioned not merely by 
 the difference of moral atmosphere, but quite as much 
 by the intellectual abyss between savagery and civilization. 
 Christianity and heathenism — the new and the old — are 
 jumbled together in the convert's mind. His traditional 
 modes of thought are as little changed as his outward 
 environment, and the new ideas are incongruous with 
 them. The result is chaos. So the civilized enquirer 
 into savage belief is constantly brought up in what seems 
 
 ^ Similar classifications of nouns have now been discovered among the 
 Negroes, see R. E. S., iii. 241. 
 
LEARNING TO "THINK BLACK" 23 
 
 a blind alley. He cannot find the way out, not because 
 there is not a logical issue, but because the landscape is 
 unfamiliar. He attempts to adapt the thoughts of the 
 savage, so far as he has seized them, to his own totally 
 different mental framework ; and they are refractory. 
 Not until the effort is abandoned, and patient, unprejudiced 
 search has discovered the true pattern of the puzzle, will 
 it be solved. 
 
 For it needs a considerable apprenticeship to enable 
 the observer, in Miss Kingsley's phrase, to " think black," 
 to understand the logic of " black " thought, and 
 accurately, or at least approximately, to reproduce its 
 process and aims. When we are told, therefore, by a 
 writer whom I cited a few pages back that the relation 
 of cause and effect in all but the most patent and 
 mechanical cases is beyond the grasp of the West African 
 Bantu, that statement must be taken with some qualifica- 
 tion. It should be explained that it is the relation of 
 cause and effect according to our ideas and our reasoning 
 that is beyond the native grasp, because our axioms are 
 unknown to him ; he reasons from quite another set of 
 logical presuppositions. To change the figure, he is a 
 child, but a child familiar only with what we deem a topsy- 
 turvy world, though it is the same world from which we 
 ourselves emerged long ago. If we would comprehend 
 him we must painfully climb down into that world again, 
 breathe its air, familiarize ourselves with its scenes of 
 wonder and of terror, and make intimate companions 
 of all its strange inhabitants. Thus and thus only can 
 we recover the clue that will lead us safely through 
 the shadowy forests and haunted valleys and over the 
 primeval mountain-tops of native thought. Then we 
 shall find that the savage is not so irrational as we have 
 thought him, and that in his wildest divergence from our 
 
24 RITUAL AND BELIEF 
 
 methods of reasoning he has a method of his own — a 
 method followed once upon a time by our own ancestors, 
 a method from which the peasantry of many a European 
 country is not yet wholly emancipated. 
 
 This is to "think black." It is not everybody who 
 can do it : it requires more sympathy and insight than 
 are given to all men. Above all, it requires patience, 
 long and close contact with the native, and the persistent 
 and self-abandoning endeavour to penetrate his thoughts. 
 Some missionaries have achieved it, some travellers, some 
 traders, some colonists, some government officials. Too 
 many of them, alas ! have only skimmed the surface of 
 the native mind. Even the latter, however, though they 
 have failed to read the underlying meaning of what they 
 saw, have sometimes taught us what to look for. To 
 that extent the modern school of anthropology is founded 
 on their observations. The training now given in 
 anthropology at the universities and elsewhere utilizes 
 and criticizes the reports of all observers, as well as 
 the conclusions drawn from them by anthropologists at 
 home. That training is of material assistance in fitting 
 new labourers out for fresh fields of enquiry, or for 
 working over again those fields which have been hitherto 
 imperfectly reaped by ill-equipped enquirers. In some 
 measure it supplies the place of longer preliminary inter- 
 course with the man of lower culture ; and it has the 
 advantage that it teaches the student what kind of 
 phenomenon to expect — an advantage perhaps not un- 
 accompanied by dangers of its own. 
 
 Be that as it may, the information of all kinds, good, 
 bad, and indifFerent, already at our service on the subject 
 of the religions of the lower culture has been and is 
 still being subjected to ruthless comparison and criticism. 
 The result of this constant sifting is to put us in 
 
LEARNING TO "THINK BLACK" 25 
 
 possession of a considerable body of material for a sane 
 judgement in regard to some of the beliefs of tribes in 
 various parts of the world and to help us forward on 
 the track of others. We no longer summarily deny the 
 possession of religion to tribes whose practices we do not 
 understand. We no longer attempt to docket beliefs 
 imperfectly apprehended under headings applicable only 
 to the highly developed and literary theology of Europe. 
 We lie under a more insidious temptation — that of the 
 too rapid generalization of the beliefs of the lower culture, 
 for which the groundwork may not as yet exist. But we 
 are learning the lesson that only by unwearied investigation, 
 diligent observation, sympathetic enquiry without pre- 
 possession, can we attain to a real grasp of the protean 
 ideas and half-formulated speculations of savage minds. 
 
THE RELATIONS OE RELIGION 
 AND MAGIC 
 
 I. The Common Root 
 
 Thus forewarned of the difficulties and dangers of our 
 path, let us proceed to enquire whether there are any 
 general ideas relating to religion disseminated among men 
 in the lower stages of culture, that either are themselves 
 primitive, or can have been derived from an earlier 
 condition of thought discoverable by us. 
 
 The religious practices of savage and barbarous peoples 
 are largely based upon ideas which anthropologists have 
 agreed to group together under the comprehensive title 
 of animism. Animism is, to quote Sir Edward Tylor, 
 who was the first to investigate the subject and to use the 
 word in this sense, " the groundwork of the philosophy 
 of religion, from that of savages up to that of civilized 
 man." ^ As he uses the word, it expresses the doctrine 
 which attributes a living and often a separable soul — a 
 soul in any case distinct from the body — alike to human 
 beings, to the lower animals and plants, and even to 
 inanimate objects. Let us note, however, that this soul 
 is not necessarily immaterial. The refined conception 
 of the soul, which we have received from the Greek 
 philosophers, belongs not to the savage. To him, as to 
 the average man of civilization, the notion of an absolutely 
 immaterial being would seem to be unthinkable. At all 
 
 ' Tylor, Prim. CuL, i. 385. 
 26 
 
RELATIONS OF RELIGION AND MAGIC 27 
 
 events it has hardly occurred to him. The soul, to him, 
 may be thin as a vapour, oftentimes invisible as the air ; 
 at other times it takes a visible and even tangible form. 
 So far as it is connected with what we know as a living 
 body, the ordinary, familiar form and substance, it is 
 the principle of life. But it is capable of existing in- 
 dependently of the body, at least for a time. The body, 
 on the other hand, is also capable of continuing to exist, 
 and even to live, though not in full health and vigour, 
 for a time without the soul ; but a lengthened separation 
 usually means death. This, without taking account of 
 details varying from culture to culture and people to 
 people, may be described as the outline of the savage 
 doctrine of the soul, reduced as nearly as may be into 
 the terms in which we think. Beyond this, and probably 
 as a development of it, is the belief in spirits, beings 
 frequently vague and shadowy, sometimes regarded as 
 more substantial, sometimes inhabiting objects and persons 
 known and definite, at other times unattached, but in all 
 cases of more or less power, which may be exercised to 
 the advantage or to the detriment of their human fellows, 
 or perhaps subordinates. The distinction between spirits 
 and gods is not very easy to formulate, and need not for 
 our present purpose trouble us. 
 
 Animism thus conceived is, it is obvious, too complex 
 and elaborate to be really primitive. It appears to be 
 itself derived from a simpler and earlier conception, 
 whereby man attributes to all the objects of external 
 nature life and personality. In other words, the external 
 world is first interpreted by the savage thinker in the 
 terms of his own consciousness ; animism, or the distinc- 
 tion of soul and body, is a development necessitated by 
 subsequent observation and the train of reasoning which 
 that observation awakens. 
 
28 RITUAL AND BELIEF 
 
 Primitive man is so far away from us, not merely in 
 time but in thought, that we find it difBcult to imagine 
 his attempts to grapple with the interpretation of external 
 phenomena. What waves of desire, of curiosity, of 
 wonder, of awe, of terror, of hope, of bewilderment must 
 have rolled through the sluggish dawn of his intellect 1 
 As he struggled in his little communities (tiny by com- 
 parison with ours) with the evolution of speech, how did 
 those various and perhaps ill-defined emotions come to 
 utterance ? He was not naturally speculative. Savage 
 man even now is not, as a rule, speculative, though, 
 as we have seen in the preceding essay, observers 
 who have had opportunities of comparison have noted 
 differences in this respect between one people and another. 
 Everything primitive man saw, everything he heard or 
 felt must have struck his mind primarily in relation to 
 himself — or rather to the community (the food-group, as 
 it has been called), of which the individual formed a part, 
 to its dangers and its needs. The personal element would 
 dominate his thoughts, and must have found expression 
 in his words. As a matter of fact, it forms everywhere 
 the basis of language. Hence it was impossible for 
 man to Interpret external phenomena in any other than 
 personal terms. This necessity may have been an in- 
 heritance from a pre-human stage, since there is reason 
 to think that the lower animals project their own sensa- 
 tions to other animals, and even to objects without life. 
 Yet to fix the objective personalities that primitive man 
 thought he saw and felt about him must have taken time 
 and observation. Not all objects claimed his attention 
 in the same degree or with the same insistence. Some 
 would stand out aggressively, would fill him with a sense 
 of power manifested in ways that seemed analogous with 
 his own. Others would long remain comparatively un- 
 
RELATIONS OF RELIGION AND MAGIC 29 
 
 regarded, until something happened which aroused his 
 interest. His attitude was first of all and intensely- 
 practical, not contemplative. His fellow-men, the animals 
 he hunted, the trees whose branches he saw waving in 
 the breeze, the sun and moon overhead going their daily 
 rounds — to all these he would early attach significance : 
 they would easily yield the personal quality. But what 
 of the pools, the hills, the rocks, and so forth ? There 
 must have been many things that long abode in the 
 twilight of perception — many things upon which reflection 
 was not yet concentrated. The North American Indian 
 lays a tribute of tobacco at the foot of any strange rock 
 whose form strikes him as he goes by, or strews his gift 
 upon the waters of the lake or stream that bears his canoe. 
 On the top of every pass in the Cordilleras of South 
 America and of every pass in the mountains of China the 
 native leaves a token still more trivial. It may be that 
 his earliest forefather, who set the example of such an 
 offering, did so without any definite conception of a 
 personality behind the phenomenon, but, smitten by fear 
 or awe, simply sought, by the means familiar to him in 
 the case of known personal beings, to conciliate whatever 
 power might lurk beneath an unwonted form. And 
 although a comparatively definite conception of a per- 
 sonality might in time crystallize, to be transformed later 
 by the evolution of animism into the idea of a spirit, 
 yet there must always have remained, after all these 
 crystallizations, the vague and formless Unknown, con- 
 fronted in all its more prominent manifestations through 
 the medium of an undefined dread of power which might 
 at any time be revealed from it. 
 
 In this relation of the personal and the impersonal 
 lies, as it seems to mc, the secret of primitive philosophy, 
 if philosophy it may be called, all un-selfconscious as 
 
30 RITUAL AND BELIEF 
 
 It must have been. There is no written record of 
 man's earliest guesses at the meaning of the universe. 
 Whatever they were, they were limited to his immediate 
 surroundings and the relation of these surroundings 
 to himself. We must judge of them as they are 
 represented in the beliefs and actions of modern, or 
 at all events much later, savages and in those of great 
 historic nations. For all scientific enquirers are agreed 
 that the history of the human mind has been that of 
 a slow evolution from something lower than the lowest 
 savagery known to-day, that it has not everywhere 
 evolved in the same way or to the same degree, and that 
 the course it has taken has left traces, discoverable by 
 close inspection, upon every mental product and in every 
 civilization throughout the world. The testimony on 
 which we have to rely in the investigation is of the most 
 various value, and often most difficult of interpretation. 
 Its difficulties and defects have already been touched 
 upon ; nor do I propose further to consider them now. 
 The minute examination and relentless criticism to which 
 it has been subjected have revealed its weakness ; they 
 have also revealed its strength. They have left a solid 
 body of evidence from which we may cautiously but 
 confidently reason. What can we learn from it on the 
 point under discussion ? 
 
 The first thing to be noticed is the fluidity of the 
 savage concept of personality. It is not confined within 
 the bounds of one stable and relatively unchangeable 
 body. You may quite easily be transformed, like the 
 hero of Apuleius' tale, into an ass. Your next-door 
 neighbour, for whom you have the profoundest respect 
 as a prosperous man of business and a churchwarden 
 of exemplary piety, may startle you some morning with 
 a sudden change into a noisy little street-arab, not a tenth 
 
RELATIONS OF RELIGION AND MAGIC 31 
 
 of his own portly dimensions, turning a wheel all down 
 his garden path, or into a melancholy cow cropping a 
 bare pittance of grass from his closely trimmed lawn. 
 He and his magnificent wife may even become, like 
 Philemon and Baucis, an oak and a lime-tree before 
 your eyes, or a pair of standing stones upon the moor. 
 None of these metamorphoses would be accounted 
 impossible by peoples in the lower culture. To them 
 the essential incident of the tale of Dr Jekyll and Mr 
 Hyde would be mere commonplace. The personality 
 which they have known running in one mould can, in 
 their opinion, be directed into, and will run as freely in, 
 another mould, and yet be the same. So hard do such 
 archaic beliefs die, that in remote parts of our own 
 country it is still firmly believed that a witch may assume 
 the form of a hare, and if any bold sportsman succeed 
 in wounding the animal, the injury will afterwards be 
 found on the witch's proper person, testifying beyond 
 dispute to the preservation of her individuality under 
 the temporary change of shape and species. 
 
 Shape-shifting, as it is called, may even take place 
 by means of death and a new birth without loss of 
 identity. Miss Kingsley tells us that in West Africa 
 " the new babies as they arrive in the family are shown a 
 selection of small articles belonging to deceased members 
 whose souls are still absent : the thing the child catches 
 hold of identifies him. ' Why, he's Uncle John ; see ! 
 he knows his own pipe ' ; or ' That's Cousin Emma ; 
 see ! she knows her market calabash,' and so on."^ 
 This belief and corresponding practices are found over 
 a large part of the world. Nor is it necessary that the 
 deceased should be born again in human form, or even 
 of the same sex. A group of tribes in Central Australia 
 ' Kingsley, Trav., 493. 
 
32 RITUAL AND BELIEF 
 
 have elaborated the doctrine of re-birth to an unusual 
 degree. Two of the tribes, the Warramunga and 
 Urabunna, definitely hold, if we may trust our authorities, 
 that the sex changes with each successive birth/ A 
 Mongolian tale relates that a certain Khotogait prince, 
 having been beheaded for conspiracy against the Chinese 
 Emperor, twice reappeared as a child of the Empress, 
 and was identified by the cicatrice on his neck. Both 
 children were destroyed, and he was then born as a 
 hairless bay mare, whose hide is still preserved.* In the 
 same way, fish, fruit, worms, stones, any object indeed, 
 may, if it can once (no matter how) enter the body of 
 a woman, be born again and become human. As 
 developed by animism, the doctrine of a new birth has 
 become what we know as that of the Transmigration 
 of Souls, which has played a part in more religions and 
 more philosophies than one.^ 
 
 Moreover, detached portions of the person, as locks 
 of hair, parings of finger-nails, and so forth, are not dead 
 inert matter. They are still endued with the life of their 
 original owner. Nay, garments once worn, or other 
 objects which have been in intimate contact with a human 
 being, are penetrated by his personality, remain as it 
 were united with him for good and ill. It would be no 
 exaggeration to say of this belief that it is universal. 
 Upon it rests much of the practice of witchcraft, as well 
 as of the medicine of the lower culture. The cleft ash 
 through which a child has been drawn for the cure of 
 infantile hernia, bound up and allowed to grow together, 
 continues to sympathize with him in health and sickness 
 
 1 Spencer and Gillen, N. T., 175, 358 n., 530. 
 ^ J^. L.Journ., iv. 30. 
 
 ^ I have collected the evidence in The Legend of Perseus, vol. i., and 
 in some directions more fully in Primitive Paternity, vol. i. 
 
RELATIONS OF RELIGION AND MAGIC 33 
 
 as though part of his own body. In ancient Greece 
 maidens on their marriage offered their veils to Hera, 
 the goddess who favoured marriage and aided childbirth ;^ 
 and Athenian women who became pregnant for the first 
 time used to hang up their girdles in the temple of 
 Artemis. These customs were not mere acts of homage ; 
 they had a practical intention. 
 
 Some votive offerings may perhaps be interpreted as 
 surrogates of human sacrifice. Others, made when the 
 votary is suffering from sickness, may be intended to 
 transfer the disease. These explanations are in many 
 cases very questionable ; and a large number of offerings 
 remain that do not easily submit to be thus explained. 
 The Greek women just mentioned had no disease to be 
 returned to the custody of the goddess, ready for another 
 victim. In view of future contingencies they placed 
 in her care objects identified with themselves ; they 
 brought into physical touch with her a portion of their 
 own personality. Convergence of more than one rite, 
 similar in outward form but distinct in origin, has 
 doubtless occurred very often in human history. But 
 the ambiguity which would follow is not always to be 
 traced on a careful analysis. It is obvious, at all events, 
 that if an article of my clothing in a witch's hands may 
 cause me to suffer and die, the same article in contact 
 with a beneficent power may relieve my pain, restore 
 me to health, or promote my general prosperity. My 
 shirt or stocking, or a shred from it, placed upon a 
 sacred bush, or thrust into a sacred well — a lock of my 
 hair laid upon a sacred image — my name written upon 
 the walls of a temple — a stone from my hand cast upon 
 a sacred cairn — a remnant of my food thrown into a 
 sacred waterfall or suspended from a sacred tree — a nail 
 ' Famell, Cults, i. 195. 
 
 3 
 
34 RITUAL AND BELIEF 
 
 driven by my hand into the trunk of a tree — is thence- 
 forth in immediate contact with divinity. It is a portion 
 of my personality enveloped with the sanctity of the 
 divine being ; and so long as it remains there I am 
 myself in contact with the same divine being, whoever 
 he may be, and derive all the advantages incident to the 
 contact. 
 
 Such beliefs as these are world-wide ; they are a 
 commonplace of anthropology ; and it would be waste of 
 time to multiply examples. They exhibit a concept of 
 personality imperfectly crystallized. It is still fluid and 
 vague, only to become entirely definite under the influence 
 of trained reason and larger and more scientific know- 
 ledge. But, such as it is, there is behind and around 
 it the still vaguer, the unlimited territory of the 
 Impersonal, because the Unknown. Every object on 
 which the attention has been fixed, every object, therefore, 
 that may be said to be known, has its own personality — 
 every object, whether living, or, according to our ideas, 
 not-living. What remains is the stufF out of which 
 personalities are formed as it is gradually reduced into 
 relations with the savage observer. These personalities 
 do not necessarily correspond even to anything objective. 
 They may be creations of the excited imagination. It is 
 sufficient for the savage that they seem to be, and to 
 have a relation to himself which he cannot otherwise 
 interpret. His emancipation from this state of mind 
 is slow, though among some peoples in the lower culture 
 it is more perceptible than among others. But it leaves 
 its traces everywhere — there, most of all, where emotion is 
 most acute and permanent, where hopes and fears are 
 most overwhelming, in the sphere of religion. 
 
 Now every personality is endowed with qualities which 
 enable it to persist, to influence others, and even to 
 
RELATIONS OF RELIGION AND MAGIC 35 
 
 overcome, subjugate, and destroy them for its own ends. 
 No more than ourselves could the primeval savage avoid 
 being influenced and often overmatched by the charm 
 and wiles of woman, the wisdom of the elders of his 
 horde, the dauntless might of the warrior. The non- 
 human personalities with which he came in contact 
 possessed qualities not less remarkable than those of the 
 human. The strength, the fierceness, the agility of the 
 lion, the speed of the antelope, the cunning of the fox, 
 the lofty forms and endurance of the forest trees, their 
 response to every breath of wind, and the kindly shelter 
 they yielded to birds and beasts and men, the fantastic 
 forms and stern patience of the rocks, the smooth and 
 smiling treachery of the lake, the gentle murmur and 
 benign largess of the river, the splendour, the burning 
 heat of the sun, the changeableness and movement of the 
 clouds are a few of the more obvious qualities attached to 
 the myriad personalities with which men found them- 
 selves environed. These personalities and their qualities 
 would impress them all the more because of the mystery 
 that perpetually masked them. Mystery magnified them. 
 Hence every non-human personality was apt to be con- 
 ceived in larger than human terms, and its qualities were 
 larger than human. 
 
 I do not pause here to adduce illustrations of this 
 attitude towards the objects surrounding mankind. In 
 any event it would of course be impossible to illustrate 
 it from prehistoric, not to say primeval, ages. It is 
 characteristic of modern savages wherever an intimate 
 acquaintance enables the civilized observer to penetrate 
 into their arcana. Some of them have got no further ; 
 others have advanced to the full stage of animism. 
 Reference may be made to any work in which the life 
 and ideas of a savage tribe are depicted. 
 
36 RITUAL AND BELIEF 
 
 Not merely was every personality, human and other, 
 endowed with qualities, but by virtue of those qualities 
 it possessed a potentiality and an atmosphere of its own. 
 The successful warrior and huntsman by more than his 
 successes, by his confidence and his brag, his readiness 
 to quarrel and his vindictiveness, or the many-wintered 
 elder, wise and slow to wrath, experienced in war and 
 forestry, of far-reaching purpose and subtle in execution, 
 would be enshrined in a belief in his powers, surrounded 
 with a halo of which we still see a dim, a very dim, 
 reflection in the touching regard entertained for a political 
 leader or the worship paid to an ecclesiastical dignitary. 
 Nor would this atmosphere surround only important or 
 successful men. Everyone is conscious of powers of 
 some sort, and everyone would attribute to others 
 capabilities larger or smaller. Some would possess in 
 their own consciousness and in the eyes of their fellows 
 a very small modicum of power for good or evil. The 
 mere glance or voice of others would inspire terror or 
 confidence. This potentiality, this atmosphere would 
 often cling with greater intensity to non-human beings, 
 objective or imaginary. The snake, the bird, the 
 elephant, the sun, the invisible wind, the unknown 
 wielder of the lightning, would be richly endowed. 
 None, human or non-human, would (in theory, at least) 
 be wholly without it. 
 
 The Iroquoian tribes of North America possess a word 
 which exactly expresses this potentiality, this atmosphere, 
 which they believe inheres in and surrounds every 
 personality. They call it orenda. A fine hunter is one 
 whose orenda is fine, superior in quality. When he is 
 successful he is said to bafile or thwart the orenda of the 
 quarry ; when unsuccessful, the game is said to have 
 foiled or outmatched his orenda. A person who defeats 
 
RELATIONS OF RELIGION AND MAGIC 37 
 
 another in a game of skill or chance is said to overcome 
 his orenda. " At public games or contests of skill or 
 endurance, or of swiftness of foot, where clan is pitted 
 against clan, phratry against phratry, tribe against tribe, 
 or nation against nation, the shamans — men reputed to 
 possess powerful orenda — are employed for hire by the 
 opposing parties respectively to exercise their orenda to 
 thwart or overcome that of their antagonists," and thus 
 secure victory. So, when a storm is brewing, it (the 
 storm-maker) is said to be preparing its orenda ; when it 
 is ready to burst, it has finished, has prepared its orenda. 
 Similar expressions are used for a man or one of the 
 lower animals when in a rage. A prophet or soothsayer 
 is one who habitually puts forth his orenda^ and has 
 thereby learned the secrets of the future. The orenda of 
 shy birds and other animals which it is difficult to 
 ensnare or kill is said to be acute or sensitive — that is, 
 in detecting the presence of the hunter, whether man or 
 beast. Anything reputed to have been instrumental in 
 obtaining some good or accomplishing some end is said 
 to possess orenda. Of one who, it is believed, has died 
 from witchcraft it is said, "An evil orenda has struck 
 him."^ 
 
 Among the Algonkian and Siouan tribes are found 
 beliefs that seem to go behind this personal but mystic 
 potentiality to its source in the Unknown, the Impersonal. 
 The Algonkian word expressive of the idea is manitou. 
 The early French missionaries, who were the first to 
 make it known to us, interpreted it of a personal being 
 — God or the Devil, they hardly knew which. They 
 were reading into it their own more highly crystallized 
 beliefs. As in the case of orenda, we are fortunate in 
 having the term more accurately defined for us by a de- 
 1 J. N. B. Hewitt, Amer. Anthr., N.S., iv. 38. 
 
38 RITUAL AND BELIEF 
 
 scendant of the native tribes, who may be presumed to have 
 been better equipped by inheritance and early associations 
 to understand Algonkian thought than the Jesuit Fathers 
 were. "The Algonkin conception of the manitou," he 
 tells us, " is bound up with the manifold ideas that flow 
 from an unconscious relation with the outside world. 
 . . . The term manitou is a religious word ; it carries 
 with it the idea of solemnity ; and whatever the associa- 
 tion it always expresses a serious attitude, and kindles an 
 emotional sense of mystery. . . . The essential character 
 of Algonkin religion is a pure, na'lve worship of nature. 
 In one way or another associations cluster about an object 
 and give it a certain potential value ; and because of this 
 supposed potentiality the object becomes the recipient of 
 an adoration. The degree of the adoration depends in 
 some measure upon the extent of confidence reposed in 
 the object, and upon its supposed power of bringing 
 pleasure or inflicting pain. The important thing with 
 the individual is the emotional efi^ect experienced while 
 in the presence of the object, or with an interpreted 
 manifestation of the object. The individual keeps watch 
 for the effect, and it is the eff"ect that fills the mind with 
 a vague sense of something strange, something mysterious, 
 something intangible. One feels it as the result of an 
 active substance, and one's attitude toward it is purely 
 passive. To experience a thrill is authority enough of 
 the existence of the substance. The sentiment of its 
 reality is made known by the fact that something has 
 happened. It is futile to ask an Algonkin for an 
 articulate definition of the substance, partly because it 
 would be something about which he does not concern 
 himself, and partly because he is quite satisfied with only 
 the sentiment of its existence. He feels that the property 
 is everywhere, is omnipresent. The feeling that it is 
 
RELATIONS OF RELIGION AND MAGIC 39 
 
 omnipresent leads naturally to the belief that it enters into 
 everything in nature ; and the notion that it is active 
 causes the mind to look everywhere for its manifestations. 
 These manifestations assume various forms ; they vary 
 with individuals and with reference to the same and 
 different objects. 
 
 " Language afFords means of approaching nearer to a 
 definition of this religious sentiment. In the Algonkin 
 dialects of the Sauk, Fox, and Kickapoo, a rigid distinction 
 of gender is made between things with life and things 
 without life. . . . Accordingly, when they refer to the 
 manitou in the sense of a virtue, a property, an abstraction, 
 they employ the form expressive of inanimate gender. 
 When the manitou becomes associated with an object, 
 then the gender becomes less definite. . . . 
 
 " When the property becomes the indwelling element 
 of an object, then it is natural to identify the property 
 with animate being. It is not necessary that the being 
 shall be the tangible representative of a natural object." 
 This the writer illustrates from the account given by a 
 Fox Indian of the sweat-lodge, in the course of which he 
 observes : " The manitou comes from the place of his abode 
 in the [heated] stone, . . . when the water is sprinkled 
 on it. It comes out in the steam, and in the steam it 
 enters the body wherever it finds entrance. It moves up 
 and down and all over inside the body, driving out every- 
 thing that inflicts pain. Before the manitou returns to 
 the stone it imparts some of its nature to the body. 
 That is why one feels so well after having been in the 
 sweat-lodge." The writer's comment on this is instructive. 
 " The sentiment," he says, " behind the words rests upon 
 the consciousness of a belief in an objective presence ; it 
 rests on the sense of an existing reality with the quality of 
 self-dependence ; it rests on the perception of a definite, 
 
40 RITUAL AND BELIEF 
 
 localized personality. Yet at the same time there is the 
 feeling that the apprehended reality is without form and 
 without feature. This is the dominant notion in regard 
 to the virtue abiding in the stone of the sweat-lodge ; it 
 takes on the character of conscious personality with some 
 attributes of immanence and design." 
 
 But further, as the manitou — this mystic, all-pervasive 
 property or substance — on investing an object acquires 
 conscious personality, so also " it is natural to confuse the 
 property" — the manitou — "with an object containing," 
 or invested with, " the property." " It is no trouble for 
 an Algonkin to invest an object with the mystic substance, 
 and then call the object by the name of the substance. 
 The process suggests a possible explanation of how an 
 Algonkin comes to people his world with manitou forces 
 different in kind and degree ; it explains in some measure 
 the supernatural performances of mythological beings, 
 the beings that move in the form of men, beasts, birds, 
 fishes, and other objects of nature. All these are a 
 collection of agencies. Each possesses a virtue in common 
 with all the rest, and in so far do they all have certain 
 marks of agreement. Where one differs from another is 
 in the nature of its function, and in the degree of the 
 possession of the cosmic substance. But the investment 
 of a common mystic virtue gives them all a common 
 name, and that name is manitou" 
 
 The conclusion is " that there is an unsystematic belief 
 in a cosmic mysterious property which is believed to be 
 existing everywhere in nature ; that the conception of 
 the property can be thought of as impersonal, but that 
 it becomes obscure and confused when the property 
 becomes identified with objects in nature ; that it 
 manifests itself in various forms ; and that its emotional 
 effect awakens a sense of mystery ; that there is a lively 
 
RELATIONS OF RELIGION AND MAGIC 41 
 
 appreciation of its miraculous efficacy ; and that its 
 interpretation is not according to any regular rule, but is 
 based on one's feelings rather than on one's knowledge." ^ 
 
 Whatever differences an exact analysis, in accordance 
 with the clearly cut methods of scientific thought, may 
 result in discovering between the concept of manitou as 
 here displayed and the Iroquoian orenda, two resemblances 
 stand out prominently. Orenda is, like manitou, a mystic, 
 or magical — not a natural — quality or potentiality, which 
 resides in some persons or objects in greater measure than 
 others. And the fact that it is " held to be the property 
 of all things, all bodies, and by the inchoate mentation 
 of man is regarded as the efficient cause of all phenomena, 
 all the activities of his environment,"^ approximates the 
 conception very closely to that of manitou. 
 
 When we turn to the Omaha, a Siouan tribe, we find a 
 concept hardly distinguishable from that of the Algonkins. 
 Here again we have the advantage of native help. Mr 
 Francis La Flesche, the son of a former chief of the tribe, 
 is jointly responsible for an exhaustive monograph on the 
 Omaha with Miss Alice Fletcher, whose knowledge of 
 this and neighbouring tribes is among investigators of 
 European descent unrivalled. We may therefore rely 
 upon their exposition with confidence equal to that we 
 have given to those already cited on the Iroquois and 
 the Algonkins. " An invisible and continuous life was 
 believed," they tell us, " to permeate all things, seen and 
 unseen. This life manifests itself in two ways : first, by 
 causing to move — all motion, all actions of mind or body 
 are because of this invisible life ; second, by causing 
 
 1 W. Jones, Journ. Am. F. L., xviii. 183 sqg. As used by Dr Jones 
 here, the word Algonkin only includes the Sauk, Fox, and Kickapoo 
 tribes. 
 
 2 Amer. Anthr., N.S., iv. 36; cf. 33. 
 
42 RITUAL AND BELIEF 
 
 permanency of structure and form, as in the rock, the 
 physical features of the landscape, mountains, plains, 
 streams, rivers, lakes, the animals and man. This 
 invisible life was also conceived of as being similar to the 
 will-power of which man is conscious within himself — a 
 power by which all things are brought to pass. Through 
 this mysterious life and power aU things are related to 
 one another and to man, the seen to the unseen, the 
 dead to the living, a fragment of anything to its entirety. 
 This invisible life and power was called Wakonda. While 
 it was a vague entity, yet there was an anthropomorphic 
 colouring to the conception, as is shown in the prayers 
 offered and the manner in which appeals for compassion 
 and help were made, also in the ethical quality attributed 
 to certain natural phenomena — the regularity of night 
 following day, of summer winter (these were recognized 
 as emphasizing truthfulness as a dependable quality and 
 set forth for man's guidance), — and in the approval by 
 Wakonda of certain ethical actions on the part of 
 mankind."^ "There is therefore," the writers tell us 
 in another place, " no propriety in speaking of Wakonda 
 as ' the Great Spirit.' Equally improper would it be 
 to regard the term as a synonym of nature, or of an 
 objective god, a being apart from nature. It is difficult 
 to formulate the native idea expressed in this word. 
 The European mind demands a kind of intellectual 
 crystallization of conceptions, which is not essential to the 
 Omaha, and which, when attempted, is apt to modify the 
 original meaning." But while the concept appears to 
 be vague and impersonal, inasmuch as human conditions 
 were projected upon nature, "certain anthropomorphic 
 attributes were ascribed to it, approximating to a kind of 
 
 ' R. B. E., xxvii. 134. Wakonda in its various forms is pronounced 
 with an « somewhat hke the French nasal. 
 
RELATIONS OF RELIGION AND MAGIC 43 
 
 personality." Moreover, "there is a distinction in the 
 Omaha mind between varying meanings of the word 
 wakonda. The Wakonda addressed in the tribal prayer 
 and in the tribal religious ceremonies which pertain to 
 the welfare of all the people is the Wakonda that is the 
 permeating life of visible nature — an invisible life and 
 power that reaches everywhere and everything, and can 
 be appealed to by man to send him help. From this 
 central idea of a permeating life comes, on the one hand, 
 the application of the word wakonda to anything mysterious 
 or inexplicable, be it an object or an occurrence ; and, 
 on the other hand, the belief that the peculiar gifts of an 
 animate or inanimate form can be transferred to man. 
 The means by which this transference takes place is 
 mysterious and pertains to Wakonda, but is not Wakonda. 
 So the media — the shell, the pebble, the thunder, the 
 animal, the mythic monster — may be spoken of as 
 wakondas, but they are not regarded as the Wakonda."^ 
 
 Like the Algonkian manitou, the Siouan wakonda is 
 thus seen to hover between the Personal and the Im- 
 personal, whereas the Iroquoian orenda clings about 
 persons and things. Yet it is applied in an adjectival form 
 by various Siouan tribes to medicine-men, to the sacred 
 pipe, to the sleight-of-hand tricks performed by the 
 medicine-men or jugglers, and apparently to anyone who 
 displays unusual qualities or powers. Thus it is used for 
 a man who is extraordinarily stingy, to a man who has 
 a habit of loud and rapid speech, to one who is a hard, 
 almost an unmerciful, rider, to a child who speaks or 
 walks for the first time and has thus manifested a new 
 and individual power to act. A woman during her 
 menstrual period is wakan ; to perform acts of worship is 
 to make wakan ; the secret society among the Dakotas 
 
 ' R. B. E., xxvii. 597 sqq. 
 
44 RITUAL AND BELIEF 
 
 which is the depository of their mysteries is wakanwacipi, 
 the sacred dance. In these cases the word conveys the 
 sense not only of mysterious, powerful, wonderful, but 
 also of sacred, spiritual, taboo. And a Ponka medicine- 
 man once told the late J. O. Dorsey, " I am a wakanda."^ 
 Equivalent ideas and expressions are used by other 
 American tribes. Supernatural power impresses the 
 Tlingit, for example, " as a vast immensity, one in kind 
 and impersonal, inscrutable as to its nature, but whenever 
 manifesting itself to men, taking a personal, and it might 
 be said a human personal, form in whatever object it 
 displays itself. Thus the sky-spirit is the ocean of 
 supernatural energy as it manifests itself in the sky, the 
 sea-spirit as it manifests itself in the sea, the bear-spirit 
 as it manifests itself in the bear, the rock-spirit as it 
 manifests itself in the rock, etc. It is not meant that 
 the Tlingit consciously reasons this out thus, or formulates 
 a unity in the supernatural, but such appears to be his 
 unexpressed feeling. For this reason there is but one 
 name, ysk, a name which is affixed to any specific personal 
 manifestation of it. . . . This supernatural energy must 
 be carefully diiFerentiated from natural energy and never 
 confused with it. It is true that the former is supposed 
 to bring about results similar to the latter, but in the 
 mind of the Tlingit the conceived difference between 
 these two is as great as with us. A rock rolling down- 
 hill or an animal running is by no means a manifestation 
 of supernatural energy, although if something peculiar 
 be associated with these actions, something outside of the 
 Indian's usual experience of such phenomena, they may 
 be thought of as such." On the other hand, and here 
 we approach the Iroquoian idea, "the number of 
 
 » Fletcher, Am. Anthr., xiv. io6 ; J. O. Dorsey, R. B. E., xi. 366 ; Riggs, 
 Contrib. N. Am. Ethnol., vii. 507 sqq. 
 
RELATIONS OF RELIGION AND MAGIC 45 
 
 spirits [ysk] with which this world was peopled was 
 simply limitless. . . . There is said to have been a spirit 
 in every trail on which one travelled, and one around 
 every fire ; one was connected with everything one did." 
 The writer whom I am quoting goes on to give a large 
 number of instances showing that the heavenly bodies, 
 the wind, the sea, mountains, lakes, trees, animals, in 
 short, all things, were addressed, to conciliate them, to 
 render them friendly, to acquire some gift or advantage, 
 were treated with reverence or with magical intent. And 
 of course the medicine-men or shamans were the special 
 favourites of the spirits, and were endowed with power 
 which they often matched against one another.-^ 
 
 Thus we have in these North American ideas two 
 distinct conceptions — the possession of what I have called 
 a potentiality or atmosphere of its own by the individual 
 personality, whether human or non-human ; and the 
 impersonal, mysterious, undefined reservoir of power in 
 the universe as conceived by the savage. These two 
 conceptions are not mutually exclusive, for the impersonal 
 power is often held to be the source of the personal 
 power or potentiality. As among the American Indian 
 tribes, so elsewhere they are differently emphasized by 
 different peoples. The Bantu of the Lower Congo basin 
 emphasize the impersonal conception. According to the 
 Bafiote, the first ages of the world were ruled by Nzambi, 
 though whether he made everything seems a matter of 
 doubt. When he retired from active interference in the 
 concerns of men, he left behind, or sent, or there remained 
 in the earth. Something. Indeed, it seems to be believed 
 that Nzambi himself, or his power, his vital and creative 
 energy, is stiU in earth and water, in the air, in plants, 
 animals and men. In any case, the Something remaining 
 
 ' Swanson, J?. B. E., xxvi. 451 n., 452 sqq. 
 
46 RITUAL AND BELIEF 
 
 on earth since Nzambi's outward and visible departure is 
 or has LunySnsu. The concept of LunySnsu is that of 
 natural force, vital energy, power of increase, in short, 
 the All-ruling, the Highest, that penetrates every living 
 thing. It is not life, but an activity bound up with life, 
 its manifestation, its condition. A crippled limb does not 
 possess it, and with death it ceases entirely, it is gone. 
 The Something, however, which either is or has LunySnsu 
 is even wider than this. It is represented by Bu-nssi 
 (probably the older name) or Mkissi-nssi. The latter 
 means the supernatural or magical power of the earth, 
 and seems to be due to the later overgrowth of fetishism. 
 The former conveys the idea of the force, the energy of 
 earth. In any case it is not to be confounded with fetish- 
 power, for it is revered as fetish-power is not, nor with 
 the earth-spirit, for the Bafiote know no elemental spirits. 
 It must be conceived as the terrestrial energy, the all- 
 permeating creative force, the all-wielding, the fertility, 
 the becoming. Hence there is a sacredness attaching to 
 the earth ; and connected as the earth is with the idea of 
 fecundity and the operations of agriculture, and as it is an 
 inseparable condition of life, these aU form a foundation 
 for the right to the soil, for hospitality and the relations 
 of the sexes. The indefiniteness of Bu-nssi is shown by 
 the fact that the natives themselves are not agreed whether 
 it is one or many. In fact, in the use of its synonym, 
 Mkissi, the plural form — and what is significant, the plural 
 personal form — is often heard. Opinion wavers as the 
 needs or the excitement of the moment may demand, 
 or perhaps as tradition wavers with changing mental 
 environment. But those who claim the older faith or 
 the deeper insight adhere to the statement that there is 
 but one Mkissi-nssi, even Bu-nssi. 
 
 Thus the conception of Bu-nssi roughly corresponds 
 
RELATIONS OF RELIGION AND MAGIC 47 
 
 with that of the reservoir of power wc have already found 
 among the Omaha and other tribes. On the other hand, 
 the Bafiote hold that everything in nature has its peculiar 
 property, everything is pervaded by forces. All things 
 influence one another by visible deeds of power or in 
 secret-wise. Hence are evolved manifold relations, among 
 which the most important for man are those that extend 
 to his person. The effect of physical forces is obvious. 
 But experience teaches that there are other forces that are 
 efficacious, although the process is not always understood. 
 Such forces as these act without immediate and perceptible 
 contact. So at least the wise men believe, and they act 
 accordingly. How it happens they do not bother their 
 heads. It is so, and that is enough. If it were otherwise 
 they could not explain the events that happen. Here is, 
 in something more than germ, the Iroquoian orenda. But 
 the more sensual Bafiote, whether from their own nature 
 and social organization, or from the tropical environment 
 in which they live, are preoccupied with the relations 
 of the various forces thus permeating all things. These 
 forces are misused. Prudence and activity, strength of 
 limb and skill do not suffice ; far too much evil occurs 
 among them. The Bafiote are obsessed, like all the 
 African peoples, with the idea of witchcraft. They must 
 be protected against it. Power is therefore matched 
 against power, spell against spell. If there were not 
 thoroughly wicked men who sought openly or secretly 
 to injure others, fetishes would hardly be needed. By 
 the use of fetishes they seek to master the forces of which 
 on every side they see indications, and to make them 
 their own. Fetishes are not gods. There is nothing 
 spiritual, nothing independent of men, about them. 
 They are material objects, fabricated by art, so as to 
 embody forces working by mysterious means for the aid 
 
48 RITUAL AND BELIEF 
 
 or injury of men. The destruction of the fetish involves 
 the annihilation of the forces it embodies, whereas the 
 existence of a god is in nowise imperilled by the de- 
 struction of his image. In short, fetishes are magical in- 
 struments. Yet such is the inveterate anthropomorphism 
 of mankind that they do acquire a quasi-personal character, 
 and tend to be thought of as individual and conscious 
 beings. But they are never worshipped ; the Fiote has no 
 gods. He has only fetishes, the incorporation of powers 
 and energies he sees acting around him everywhere. By 
 that incorporation these powers and energies are appropri- 
 ated for his benefit, for his particular ends, or for the ends 
 and benefit of the society of which he is a member.-^ 
 
 Similar ideas of mysterious force wavering between the 
 personal and the impersonal and permeating all things 
 appear to underlie the Chinese conceptions of the Tsing, 
 or operative energy, which inspires, or manifests itself in, 
 the KM, breath or soul, to produce the living being.^ 
 These ideas have been taken over by the Annamites, 
 among whom the Tinh is " a fluid, a force which resides 
 in all things, and without which no existence can manifest 
 itself," and is " the essential principle of all action." 
 Uniting with the KM, breath or soul, it produces " the 
 life, the movement, the beings and the things peopling the 
 world." It is their essential condition. The entire system 
 of magic and religion rests on these ideas.^ Much the 
 same may be said of the Japanese Kami, probably connected 
 with Ainu Kamui^ It is, however, unnecessary to discuss 
 
 ' The analysis of the philosophy (if it may be so called) of the Bafiote 
 which I have tried to summarize above is by Dr Pechuel-Loesche, the most 
 acute and profound of enquirers into the civilization and mentality of the 
 peoples of Loango, and will be found in his Volksk., chaps, iii. and iv. 
 
 ^ De Groot, Rel. Sjfsi., iv. chap. i. 
 
 ' Giran, 21 sff. 
 
 * Batchelor, Encyc. Rel., i. 239, 240 (c/. Id., Ainu F. L., 580) ; Aston, 
 Shinto, 7 sqq. 
 
RELATIONS OF RELIGION AND MAGIC 49 
 
 at length the conceptions involved. They have been 
 elaborated through centuries of civilization and philoso- 
 phical exposition, until it is now difficult to determine 
 how much of their present form and content they owe to 
 archaic savagery. 
 
 Let us turn to the Melanesian islands of the South 
 Pacific. " The Melanesian mind," says Dr Codrington, 
 "is entirely possessed by the belief in a supernatural 
 power or influence, called almost universally mana. 
 This is what works to effect everything which is 
 beyond the ordinary power of men, outside the common 
 processes of nature ; it is present in the atmosphere of 
 life, attaches itself to persons and to things, and is mani- 
 fested by results which can only be ascribed to its opera- 
 tion. When one has got it he can use it and direct it, 
 but its force may break forth at some new point ; the 
 presence of it is ascertained by proof. A man comes by 
 chance upon a stone which takes his fancy ; its shape is 
 singular, it is like something, it is certainly not a common 
 stone, there must be mana in it. . . . Having that power, 
 it is a vehicle to convey mana to other stones. . . . But 
 this power, though itself impersonal, is always connected 
 with some person who directs it ; all spirits have it, ghosts 
 generally, some men. If a stone is found to have a 
 supernatural power, it is because a spirit has associated 
 itself with it ; a dead man's bone has with it mana, 
 because the ghost is with the bone ; a man may have so 
 close a connexion with a spirit or ghost that he has mana 
 in himself also, and can so direct it as to effect what he 
 desires ; a charm is powerful because the name of a 
 spirit or ghost expressed in the form of words brings into 
 it the power which the ghost or spirit exercises through 
 it. Thus aU conspicuous success is a proof that a man 
 has mana ; his influence depends on the impression made 
 
 4 
 
so RITUAL AND BELIEF 
 
 on the people's mind that he has it ; he becomes a chief 
 by virtue of it. Hence a man's power, though political 
 or social in its character, is his mana ; the word is naturally 
 used in accordance with the native conception of the 
 character of all power and influence as supernatural. If 
 a man has been successful in fighting, it has not been 
 his natural strength of arm, quickness of eye or readi- 
 ness of resource that has won success ; he has certainly 
 got the mana of a spirit or of some deceased warrior to 
 empower him, conveyed in an amulet of a stone round 
 his neck, or a tuft of leaves in his belt, in a tooth hung 
 upon a finger of his bow-hand, or in the form of words 
 with which he brings supernatural assistance to his side. 
 If a man's pigs multiply, and his gardens are productive, 
 it is not because he is industrious and looks after his 
 property, but because of the stones full of mana for pigs 
 and yams that he possesses. Of course a yam naturally 
 grows when planted ; that is well known ; but it will not 
 be very large unless mana comes into play ; a canoe will 
 not be swift unless mana be brought to bear upon it, a 
 net will not catch many fish nor an arrow inflict a mortal 
 wound." Such a power or influence as this is of course 
 not physical, though it may show itself " in physical force 
 or in any kind of power or excellence which a man 
 possesses." Finally, "all Melanesian religion consists, 
 in fact, in getting this mana for one's self, or getting it 
 used for one's benefit — all religion, that is, as far as 
 religious practices go, prayers and sacrifices." ^ (The 
 very intention that animates the Fiote rites of fetishism.) 
 It is not easy to formidate a clear idea pf the original 
 source of mana. It is said to be impersonal, to be 
 present in the atmosphere of life and communicable to 
 persons and to things. To that extent it resembles the 
 
 ' Codrington, 1 18 s^g'. 
 
RELATIONS OF RELIGION AND MAGIC 51 
 
 impersonal power or potentiality we have found else- 
 where. But wherever it is manifested it is connected 
 with some personal being who originates and directs it."^ 
 It is not a quality inherent in men of more than ordinary 
 power and skill. " If a man," writes Bishop Codrington, 
 has been successful in fighting, ... he has certainly got 
 the mana of a spirit or of some deceased ancestor to 
 empower him." And again : " No man has this power 
 of his own ; all that he does is done by the aid of 
 personal beings, ghosts or spirits ; he cannot be said, as 
 a spirit can, to be mana himself, using the word to 
 express a quality ; he can be said to have mana^ it may 
 be said to be with him, the word being used as a 
 substantive." ^ It would thus seem as if it were an 
 essential characteristic not of personal beings — even of 
 powerful personal beings — in general, but belonging to 
 the world of spirits, including the spirits of the dead. 
 Yet not to all spirits ; for elsewhere we read : " It must 
 not be supposed that every ghost becomes an object of 
 worship," as a source of mana. " A man in danger may 
 call upon his father, his grandfather, or his uncle ; his 
 nearness of kin is sufficient ground for it. The ghost 
 who is to be worshipped is the spirit of a man who in 
 his lifetime had mana in him ; the souls of common men 
 are the common herd of ghosts, nobodies alike before 
 and after death. The supernatural power abiding in the 
 powerful living man abides in his ghost after death with 
 increased vigour and more ease of movement." * Thus 
 
 ' Is this really the original belief? Dr Marett cites Dr Seligmann's 
 (verbal ?) authority for the statement that in New Guinea (among the 
 tribes of Melanesian culture and descent ?) " a yam-stone would be held 
 capable of making the yams grow miraculously, quite apart from the 
 agency of spirits" {Arch. Rel., xii. 190). 
 
 * Codrington, 120, 191. 
 
 ' Codrington, iT-it-^. Father Joseph Meier denies that the Melanesian 
 population of the Gazelle Peninsula of New Britain possesses the concept of 
 
52 RITUAL AND BELIEF 
 
 we are found in something like what logicians call a 
 vicious circle. Only those ghosts have mana, or are 
 mana, after death who had mana in their lifetime. But 
 if they had mana in their lifetime, it was because they 
 derived it from ghosts or other spirits. In any case mana 
 appears to be conceived of as transcending humanity, 
 belonging to the mysterious region of the Unknown, 
 embodied in its primitive denizens, flowing from them, 
 by the channel of material objects (amulets), forms of 
 words (charms) or names, to certain human beings, and 
 taken back by the latter into the same great reservoir 
 of power when they die, thence to be communicated 
 afresh to favoured mortals, and so on for ever. 
 Probably, however, no such definite concept finds a 
 place in the Melanesian brain ; the mode of savage 
 thought hardly admits of such crystallization. 
 
 It is likely that mana (both the word and the mean- 
 
 ■mana in the sense of a universal impersonal, magical power. Yet he goes 
 on to say : " The sorcerer (Zauberer) himself derives the inherent power 
 of his spells {Zauber-mitteln) from two different sources of energy. First, 
 he relies on the might of the spirits to whom he is indebted for his spells, 
 or on the might of his forefathers who have practised magic before him, 
 and have handed down to him their spells. In his incantation therefore 
 the magician {Hexenmeister) will always name a spirit, or the name of a 
 deceased sorcerer, or at least silently presume his assistance. A second 
 source of energy for the sorcerer is his own soul. By associating this 
 with natural objects he enhances their powers. Everything the sorcerer 
 does he conceives under the aspect of these two sources of energy. The 
 originator of an enchantment (Zauberet) — be it an unembodied spirit, or 
 the ghost of a deceased person, or a spirit residing in a living being (for 
 example, a bird) — operates in his spell and makes it always and everywhere 
 effective. Or else only the sorcerer's own soul is considered for magical 
 purposes. Beyond this there is no other power" (Anthropos, viii. 8, 9). 
 This seems to resemble the concept of mana, as set forth by Dr Codring- 
 ton. Later Father Meier remarks : " The enquiry into the witchcraft 
 {Zauberwesen) of the coast-dwellers of the Gazelle Peninsula is not yet 
 closed. So far we only know a small fragment of all their enchantments " 
 {ibid., 1 1). Our knowledge of the social elements and cultural history of 
 Melanesia as a whole, and of New Britain in particular, is still very 
 imperfect 
 
RELATIONS OF RELIGION AND MAGIC 53 
 
 ing) was introduced into the Melanesian islands from 
 Polynesia, where it is widely spread and the word has 
 numerous derivatives. In seeking there its explanation 
 we are at a disadvantage ; because, with all their devotion 
 and merits, no missionary and no scientific enquirer has 
 given us such a study of Polynesian mentality as Dr 
 Codrington has given of that of the Melanesians. We 
 turn therefore, in the first place, to the more dangerous 
 guidance of a dictionary. From that we learn that 
 everywhere mana has the signification of power, and 
 almost everywhere of supernatural power. It is also 
 defined as influence, prestige, honour, authority ; in 
 Hawaiian it is used to express, besides supernatural power 
 such as would be attributed to the gods, the simpler 
 idea of power, and also spirit (in the sense of energy 
 of character), glory, majesty, intelligence — all doubtless 
 secondary meanings. We need not discuss in detail 
 the derivatives in various Polynesian dialects. Their 
 general trend is towards the expression of thought, 
 opinion or belief, industry, vehement desire, love — all 
 of them activities primarily of the mind or emotions. 
 Manava or manawa is a word meaning the belly or 
 internal organs of the body, then the heart as the seat 
 of affection, the feelings or emotions, soul, conscience, 
 and in one dialect at least, an apparition, a ghost or 
 spirit. Mana, in short, seems to recall the idea of 
 extraordinary qualities, especially power, and the emotional 
 reactions caused by their exhibition. Power or energy, 
 overwhelming, supernatural, is evidently the root-idea, 
 vested in individual, personal beings. One phrase, to 
 be sure, in a Maori myth suggests the independent 
 possession of this power by an object we should not 
 regard as personal : He taiaha whaimana, explained by 
 the lexicographer as " A wooden sword which has done 
 
54 RITUAL AND BELIEF 
 
 deeds so wonderful as to possess a sanctity and power 
 of its own." Literally it is "A sword in which mana 
 is resident." Whether this or the parallel Mangarevan 
 e turuturu mana, a powerful or magical staff, really implies 
 an inherent power independent of spiritual origin, must 
 remain undecided.^ We are led to think of the weapons 
 of Teutonic mythology and romance, having names as 
 if they were personalities, and endowed with powers 
 to render their bearers invincible — nay, when drawn, 
 to inspire them with ungovernable fury. But in the 
 form in which their stories reach us all such weapons 
 owe their peculiar properties, like the curse upon the 
 Nibelung hoard, to some more than earthly being, or 
 at least to a mortal wizard. 
 
 Having furnished ourselves with this key, we may 
 examine some of the incidents of Polynesian life and 
 religion reported by competent observers. The in- 
 auguration ceremony of a Tahitian king, we are told by 
 the missionary Ellis, consisted in girding him with the 
 maro ura, or sacred girdle of red feathers. This girdle 
 " was made with the beaten fibres of the aoa ; with these 
 a number of uru, red feathers, taken from the images 
 of their deities, were interwoven with feathers of other 
 colours. The maro thus became sacred, even as the person 
 of the gods, the feathers being supposed to retain all the 
 dreadful attributes of power and vengeance which the 
 idols possessed, and with which it was designed to endow 
 the king." So potent indeed was it that " it not only 
 raised him to the highest earthly station, but identified 
 
 1 E. Tregear, The Maori - Polynesian Comparative Dictionary, 
 Wellington, N.Z., 1891, 203-6, s.vv. Cf. Marett, Trans. Oxford Cong., i. 
 48 sqq. It is perhaps worth while to note " that the Samoan New 
 Testament was translated from the Greek and uses mana as the equivalent 
 of the Greek diva/xis, v/h.i\stpule is used for the Greek ejouo-m" (Haddon, 
 Torres Str. Rep.-, v. 329, quoting communication from S. H. Ray). 
 
RELATIONS OF RELIGION AND MAGIC S5 
 
 him with " the gods.^ The same missionary elsewhere 
 relates that " throughout Polynesia the ordinary medium 
 of communicating or extending supernatural powers was 
 the red feather of a small bird found in many of the 
 islands and the beautiful long tail-feathers of the tropic 
 or man-of-war bird. For these feathers the gods were 
 supposed to have a strong predilection ; they were the 
 most valuable offerings that could be presented ; to them 
 the power or influence of the gods was imparted, and 
 through them transferred to the objects to which they 
 might be attached." On certain ceremonial occasions 
 those persons " who wished their emblems of deity to be 
 impregnated with the essence of the gods, repaired to the 
 ceremony with a number of red feathers, which they 
 delivered to the officiating priest. The wooden idols being 
 generally hollow, the feathers were deposited in the inside 
 of the image, which was filled with them." When the 
 idols were solid, the feathers were attached on the outside. 
 To anyone who brought fresh feathers, two or three 
 of the same kind which had been thus " united to the 
 god " at a former festival were given in return. " These 
 feathers were thought to possess all the properties of the 
 images to which they had been attached, and a super- 
 natural influence was supposed to be infused into them. 
 They were carefully wound round with very fine cord, 
 the extremities alone remaining visible. When this was 
 done, the new-made gods were placed before the larger 
 images from which they had been taken ; and lest their 
 detachment should induce the god to withhold his power, 
 the priest addressed a prayer to the principal deities, 
 requesting them to abide in the red feathers before them. 
 
 1 Ellis, Polyn. Res., iii. io8. A specimen of the girdle was sent by John 
 Williams, the missionary afterwards killed at Eramanga, to England, prob- 
 ably to the London Missionary Society. See his Miss. Enterprises, 144. 
 
56 RITUAL AND BELIEF 
 
 At the close of his ul>u, or invocation, he declared that 
 they were dwelt in or inhabited (by the gods), and 
 delivered them to the parties who had brought the red 
 feathers. The feathers, taken home, were deposited in 
 small bamboo-canes, excepting when addressed in prayer. 
 If prosperity attended their owner, it was attributed to their 
 influence, and they were usually honoured with a ioo, or 
 image, into which they were inwrought; and subsequently, 
 perhaps, an altar and a rude temple were erected for them. 
 In the event, however, of their being attached to an image, 
 this must be taken to the large temple, that the supreme 
 idols might sanction the transfer of their influence." ^ 
 
 In the foregoing passages it will be perceived that the 
 missionary is doing something more than describing rites 
 he had no doubt often witnessed ; he is labouring also to 
 translate into English and incorporate with his account 
 the explanations he had extracted from his Polynesian 
 friends. He seems to exhaust his spiritual vocabulary in 
 speaking of "powers," "influence," "the communication 
 of attributes," of " the essence of the gods." But when 
 he recalls the words of the priest, they are even stronger 
 and at the same time simpler than any of these expressions : 
 the god is prayed to "abide in" the feathers ; he is 
 declared to " inhabit " them. If these be an accurate 
 translation of the words employed, it would seem that 
 not merely the power but a portion of the personality of 
 the god passed into the feathers, and that while his chief 
 residence was still at the great temple where his principal 
 image dwelt, he was also present whithersoever the 
 bunches of feathers which had been consecrated by 
 deposition within or upon it were carried. He himself 
 inhabited them ; and it was this fact that "identified" the 
 king, as the wearer of such feathers, with the gods. 
 
 ' Ellis, op. cit., i. 338. 
 
RELATIONS OF RELIGION AND MAGIC 57 
 
 It may be so. It may be another illustration of the 
 fluidity of the concept of personality. But what we have 
 already learned of mana may lead us to place another 
 interpretation upon it. It was not merely the gods whose 
 influence or personality was conveyed by contact. The 
 king in his turn spread an awful influence in the same 
 way, or even by the utterance of a word. In New 
 Zealand " the garments of an ariki^ or high chief, were 
 tapu^ as well as everything relating to him ; they could 
 not be worn by anyone else, lest they should kill him." 
 If a single drop of a high chief's blood flowed on any- 
 thing, it consecrated the object to him, or, as the natives 
 phrased it, rendered it tapu. This consequence resulted 
 to everything touched by him, to everything to which he 
 chose to affix his name or the name of one of his ancestors. 
 He could not eat with his wife, lest his sanctity should 
 kill her, though she herself was by marriage consecrated 
 to him. Nor was the sanctity by any means confined to 
 the highest chiefs. It extended downwards to the lower 
 ranks, but always in a decreasing measure. It mainly 
 depended on rank and influence ; ^ it could be none 
 other than the eflFect of mana. 
 
 Between mana^ however, and personality the dividing 
 line is very thin. We find it the same in other parts of 
 the world. Father De Acosta relates that upon the even 
 of his feast the Mexican idol Tezcatlipuca was furnished 
 with a new robe. When it was put on, the old robe was 
 taken off "and kept with as much or more reverence 
 than we doe our ornaments." Ecclesiastical ornaments of 
 course are meant ; and the writer goes on to say that 
 " there were in the coffers of the idoll many ornaments, 
 iewelles, eareings, and other riches, as bracelets and 
 pretious feathers, which served to no other vse than to be 
 
 ' Taylor, 164 sqq. 
 
58 RITUAL AND BELIEF 
 
 there, and was [sic] worshipped as their god it selfe." ^ 
 Here the ornaments would seem to all intents identified 
 with the god, exactly as the red feathers of the Tahitian 
 god are " inhabited " by him. The explanation of the 
 one is the explanation of the other. The same ambiguity 
 is discoverable in a much higher civilization than either 
 the Polynesian or the Mexican. Down to the end of the 
 eighteenth century Breton women, in order to secure a 
 happy delivery, used to dip their girdles in certain sacred 
 fountains ; and even to-day the expectant mother who 
 can wrap around her body a ribbon thus dipped is sure 
 in due course to bring into the world a robust child, and 
 that without danger to herself.^ This we may be inclined 
 to think an example of an impersonal power analogous to 
 that of the Siouan wakonda or the Algonkian manitou. 
 But we can carry the matter a step further. The Ursuline 
 nuns of Quintin keep a girls' school of high reputation 
 in Brittany. When one of their pupils has married and 
 become pregnant, they sometimes send her as a special 
 favour a ribbon which has touched a reliquary containing 
 a fragment of the Virgin Mary's zone ; and it is worn by 
 the recipient around her waist until her baby is born.^ 
 It is not surely misinterpreting the rite to deem that the 
 Virgin's zone, having been in contact with her divinity, 
 has acquired and retains a portion of the mana emanating 
 from her person ; the reliquary in turn is permeated by 
 that mana, and communicates it to everything that touches 
 it. The worthy nuns probably have no exact theory on 
 the subject ; but a little consideration of the practice will 
 lead us to think that we have understated its meaning. 
 
 1 De Acosta, 378. 
 
 2 S^billot, F. L. France, ii. 235. 
 
 3 Ploss, Wetb, i. 504, quoting Bonnem^re, but as usual without the 
 exact reference. 
 
RELATIONS OF RELIGION AND MAGIC 59 
 
 It is the converse case to that of the deposit of clothing 
 and other articles on the shrine or the image of the divine 
 being, which we have already considered. In the latter 
 case there could be no question of mana conveyed to the 
 god from his votary. Moreover, the true interpretation 
 of the practice must explain the cult of relics of the saints, 
 whether Christian, Mohammedan, or Buddhist. Now, 
 these relics consist not merely of garments and articles of 
 use, like a stafF, but also of the bodies or fragments of 
 the bodies of the saints. In them a portion of their 
 very personality inheres, and accounts for the beneficent 
 potentiality residing in the relics, as it accounts also for 
 the liability to injury by witchcraft upon similar fragments 
 of the body or clothing of ordinary mortals. For 
 ordinary mortals, whatever their potentiality, cannot 
 measure it against that of saints and witches. 
 
 Yet human beings who are neither saints nor witches, 
 and the lower animals also, have their potentialities, the 
 benefit of which is capable of being transferred to others. 
 This is one of the reasons for cannibalism. Among the 
 Veddas of Ceylon, one of the lowest known peoples, it 
 is said to have been the custom, when a man had been 
 killed, for the slayer to open the body and take out a 
 piece of the liver, which he would dry in the sun and 
 keep in his pouch. Indeed a man was sometimes put to 
 death for the purpose. Its object was to make its possessor 
 strong and confident to avenge insults. He would bite 
 ofFa piece of the dried liver and chew it, saying to himself : 
 " I have killed this man ; why should I not be strong and 
 confident and kill this other one who has insulted me .?"^ 
 So the Turks, after the death of the Albanian hero 
 Scanderbeg, dug up his body and from his bones con- 
 structed amulets to inspire courage into the wearer on 
 1 Seligmann, Veddas, 207. 
 
6o RITUAL AND BELIEF 
 
 the battlefield.^ This potentiality may be communicated, 
 like the Melanesian mana, through other objects ; and the 
 possibility has led to certain funeral customs in Europe 
 as well as elsewhere. After a death in the Highlands of 
 Bavaria it was formerly the duty of the housewife to 
 prepare corpse-cakes {Lekhen-nudeln). Having kneaded 
 the dough, she placed it to rise on the dead body, which 
 lay on a bier enswathed in a linen shroud. When 
 the dough had risen, the cakes were baked for the 
 expected guests. To the cakes so prepared the belief 
 attached that " they contained the virtues and advantages 
 of the deceased," and that his " living strength passed 
 over into the kinsmen who consumed the cakes, and was 
 thus retained within the kindred." ^ The eating of the 
 flesh of animals remarkable for qualities such as ferocity, 
 strength, fleetness, and so forth, with intent to acquire 
 these qualities is well known. One illustration will be 
 sufficient here. The Basuto, before going to war, make 
 assurance doubly, trebly sure by a cruel rite. The 
 foreleg of a living bull is cut off. The warriors eat it 
 and are sprinkled with blood from the animal, which 
 is then killed. They are lanced by the witch-doctor, 
 and a powder made of the flesh of the bull is rubbed 
 into the wounds. In this way, namely, by eating the 
 flesh, by sprinkling the blood, and by inoculation, 
 " the strength and courage of the animal " are imparted 
 to them.* 
 
 It appears then that the concept of personality is 
 inseparable from that of the potentiality with which a 
 personality is endowed. Hence the ambiguity of the 
 Tahitian rite. Whether the feathers which had been 
 
 • Tozer, i. 216. 
 
 2 Dr M. Hoefler, Am Urguell, ii. loi. 
 
 ' Rev. H. E. MzhWle., Journ. Afr. Soc, v. 352. 
 
RELATIONS OF RELIGION AND MAGIC 6i 
 
 attached to an image retained and transmitted to the next 
 wearer the mana^ or a portion of the personality, of the 
 god, the one effect was equivalent to the other : they are 
 indistinguishable. But between mana and the potentiality 
 that elsewhere invests a personality there is a difference. 
 The latter may be, and frequently is, held to be drawn 
 from the common source of power, the invisible and 
 continuous life that permeates all things ; whereas in 
 Melanesia (and perhaps in Polynesia too) mana is 
 definitely ascribed only to a personal origin, if Dr 
 Codrington has rightly interpreted the belief. It is the 
 special property of spirits — that is to say, of supernatural 
 beings — and is communicated by them to whatsoever or 
 whomsoever they will. An important step has thus been 
 taken by the Melanesian mind towards separating the 
 Personal from the Impersonal, and human from super- 
 human attributes and potentialities. 
 
 Thus we find in widely separated regions, among widely 
 different races and in cultures the most diverse, the idea 
 of mystic power or potentiality, often concentrated in 
 individual persons or things, but in effect spread through- 
 out the world. Some peoples have been more alive to 
 the impersonal character of this power, and have ascribed 
 to it, wherever manifested, a unity of origin akin to the 
 scientific concept of force behind all phenomena. To 
 others it has assumed a more individual character. It 
 clings in any case to personality and tends to become 
 inseparable from it ; but the impersonal aspect is never 
 wholly wanting. 
 
 The patient reader will have observed the difficulty 
 experienced alike by scientific explorers and missionaries 
 in expounding this idea in its varied forms and applications. 
 The difficulty has not arisen wholly from its strangeness. 
 It is due in large part to its want of clarity. The savage 
 
62 RITUAL AND BELIEF 
 
 himself does not know ; he has rarely had occasion, and 
 still more rarely inclination, to reflect on his beliefs. 
 He has had no schools of science or philosophy to 
 think out his thoughts for him. Hence they are ill 
 defined ; like clouds in the sky, they take first one 
 shape and then another. Yet those very clouds, by 
 comparison with the formless vapour from whence they 
 have been condensed, are continents of solidity and 
 definiteness. 
 
 Although the idea of orenda, or mana, may not receive 
 everywhere the same explicit recognition, it is implied 
 in the customs and beliefs of mankind throughout the 
 world. It underlies the practice of Taboo. We have 
 had already occasion to notice this in reference to the 
 mana of Maori chiefs. In the population of Madagascar 
 there is a large, perhaps a predominant Polynesian 
 element. When a Malagasy sticks up in his field a 
 figure or scarecrow to keep off robbers, it is not that 
 they may dread prosecution with all the rigour of the law, 
 though that may be the result if they are caught. What 
 is threatened is sickness, mysteriously induced by the 
 power of the owner of the field, or by the power which 
 he has caused to be conjured into the scarecrow.^ A 
 Samoan in the same way suspends to a cocoa-nut palm a 
 small figure of a shark made with a leaf of the tree ; 
 it is notice to the robber that he will be inevitably 
 devoured by a white shark the next time he goes to 
 fish.^ Similar practices prevail in the Melanesian islands.* 
 Taboo has obtained a very prominent position in the social 
 order and government of Polynesian communities. It is 
 
 1 Van Gennep, Tabou, 184. 
 
 2 Turner, Samoa, 186. Compare a number of similar taboos on the 
 previous and subsequent pages. 
 
 ' Codrington, 215. 
 
RELATIONS OF RELIGION AND MAGIC 63 
 
 from them that the word has been adopted into English 
 parlance, and adapted to a sense near akin to that of 
 another interesting word — to boycott. But it is not only 
 in Polynesia and the neighbouring islands of Melanesia 
 that the dread of a mysterious mana is found, or that it 
 leads to prohibitions and abstinences often very burden- 
 some. It is unnecessary to adduce examples of the taboos 
 on women, practically universal in the lower culture at 
 certain times. The Siberian Chukchi, whose fire has 
 gone out on the cold and timberless tundra, cannot 
 borrow fire from his neighbour, for "the fire of a 
 strange family is regarded as infectious and as harbouring 
 strange spirits. Fear of pollution extends also to all 
 objects belonging to a strange hearth, to the skins of the 
 tent and the sleeping room, and even to the keepers and 
 worshippers of strange penates. The Chukchi from far 
 inland, who travel but little, when they come to a strange 
 territory fear to sleep in tents or to eat meat cooked on 
 a strange fire, preferring to sleep in the open air and 
 to subsist on their own scant food-supply. On the other 
 hand, an unknown traveller, coming unexpectedly to a 
 Chukchi camp, can hardly gain admittance to a tent," a 
 difficulty of which the writer I am quoting had personal 
 experience.^ This reluctance to contact with strangers 
 is not shyness ; nor is it the dread of hostile intentions. 
 Each individual, each family or body of men, has its own 
 atmosphere ; and this atmosphere conveys " pollution." 
 It is only throwing the idea a step backwards to imagine 
 the cause of the pollution as " strange spirits." Spirits 
 are mana ; and it is the mana that is feared — the mystic 
 influence or potentiality that may strike the unwary 
 stranger. This is what issues in practice as the taboo. 
 The subject of Taboo has been treated so fully by 
 
 ^ W. Bogoras, Amer. Antkr., N.S., iii. 97. 
 
64 RITUAL AND BELIEF 
 
 Professor Frazer ^ that it is needless to discuss it here. 
 Moreover, to do so in any detail would require a volume. 
 Suffice it to say that the universal avoidance of a dead 
 body, the prohibitions observed by priests, by chiefs, by 
 hunters and warriors, the prohibitions of temple and 
 shrine, of times and seasons, of speech and act, may all 
 be traced to the same root-idea. Our words sanctity, 
 pollution, infection feebly and partially translate the intuitive 
 dread of orenda which is embodied in a taboo. 
 
 The Evil Eye is a striking example of the belief in 
 orenda that has survived into civilized communities. 
 Here the whole maleficent potentiality of a person is 
 concentrated in a glance ; and the amulets so often worn 
 on the body or suspended on the wall or at the door of 
 a house are directed to intercepting and so exhausting 
 the influence. In many cases, either by means of them 
 or by a word or gesture, a counter-ore«<2^ is exercised, 
 intended to annihilate, or at least neutralize, the evil influ- 
 ence. An analogous superstition may be cited from the 
 Upper Congo. The Boloki believe that an occult power 
 is possessed and exercised by many individuals. They 
 call it likundu. Like the Evil Eye, its possession and 
 exercise may be unconscious. " A person is accused of 
 possessing likundu when he or she is extraordinarily 
 successful in hunting, fishing, skilled labour or the 
 accumulation of wealth. There is apparently," says 
 Rev. J. H. Weeks, "only a certain amount of skill 
 extant, only a certain number of fish to be caught, only a 
 certain amount of wealth to be gained ; and for a person 
 to excel all others is a proof that he is using evil means 
 
 * See Golden Bou^A^ passim, es-ptciaUy the volume on Taboo. It is 
 needless to say that Professor Frazer does not write from the point of view 
 here adopted, and that his interpretations frequently diverge from those 
 which I should be inclined to. 
 
RELATIONS OF RELIGION AND MAGIC 65 
 
 to his own advantage, and in thus defrauding others of 
 their share he lays himself open to the charge of possess- 
 ing tikundu." Consequently "a person who possesses 
 this likundu may unconsciously cause the hunting skiU of 
 any hunter in his family to fail." When the charge is 
 seriously made " it causes much annoyance, and can only 
 be disproved by either drinking the ordeal or refraining 
 from doing that which has brought the charge," of which 
 Mr Weeks goes on to give an illustration that had come 
 under his own observation.^ 
 
 Finally, what foundation there may be for the 
 modern psychological doctrine of Telepathy it is not 
 my business to determine. But its resemblance to the 
 Iroquoian doctrine of orenda may be pointed out here. 
 Telepathic communication may result from conscious 
 or unconscious exertion of will ; it may occur at a 
 supreme crisis of fate or at a casual moment. It is in 
 either case the product of a potentiality which we call 
 mystic for want of a better name, and which attaches to, 
 or flows from, some personalities more strongly than 
 others. We have all had the experience of occasionally 
 meeting, or receiving a letter from, someone on whom 
 our thoughts have been more or less insistently dwelling, 
 and whom we did not expect immediately to see or hear 
 from. Goethe is reported by his friend Eckermann 
 as having told him : " I have often enough had the 
 experience in my youthful years of a powerful longing 
 for a beloved maiden taking possession of me during a 
 
 ' F. L., xii. 186. Elsewhere Mr Weeks says : " No stigma attaches 
 to the man who is proved guilty [of witchcraft] by the ordeal, for ' one can 
 have witchcraft without knowing it'" {Cannibals, 189). Presumably 
 likundu is here included under the general term of witchcraft. In 
 another place he says : " The general belief is that only one in the family 
 can bewitch a member of the family" {ibid., 311). Hence the evil 
 influence of the possessor of likundu extends no further. 
 
 s 
 
66 RITUAL AND BELIEF 
 
 lonely walk ; and I thought about her and thought about 
 her until she really came and met me." We need, however, 
 no such commonplace illustration to convince us of 
 Goethe's orenda. 
 
 Without multiplying illustrations which will spring to 
 the mind of everyone, I venture to suggest that in man's 
 emotional response to his environment, in his interpreta- 
 tion in the terms of personality of the objects which 
 encountered his attention, and in their investiture by him 
 with potentiality, atmosphere, orenda^ mana — call it by 
 what name you will — we have the common root of magic 
 and religion. 
 
 II. Theories and Definitions 
 
 At this point we are confronted with the difficult 
 questions What is Religion ? and What is Magic } 
 
 Religion is notoriously hard to define. Every man 
 thinks he knows what it is ; but when he comes to define 
 it he never succeeds, clever as he may be, in iraming a 
 definition generally acceptable. The ordinary man, with 
 a particular religion — the only one of which he has had 
 any experience — in his eye, defines it to square with that 
 religion : if others cannot be brought into the definition, 
 so much the worse for them. The anthropologist, 
 whatever his bias, fares no better than the ordinary man. 
 He has his theories ; and in expounding them he is 
 frequently called upon to define religion. In practice 
 his theories are hardly a safer guide than the other's 
 prejudices or ignorance. Hence a definition of religion 
 usually begs the question. 
 
 We will confine our attention here to some of the 
 recent attempts made by anthropologists to define 
 religion. 
 
RELATIONS OF RELIGION AND MAGIC 67 
 
 To Professor Jevons the fundamental principle of 
 religion is " belief in the wisdom and goodness of God " ; 
 " the revelation of God to man's consciousness was 
 immediate, direct, and carried conviction with it " ; and 
 the original religion was monotheism, albeit a low form 
 of that faith.^ This may perchance fit the religion of the 
 Hebrews as seen through theological spectacles ; but it 
 definitely excludes Buddhism, at all events in its primitive 
 form. For though Buddhism arose out of an earlier 
 religion, and in a comparatively high stage of civilization, 
 and though its founder admitted (apparently) the existence 
 of other intelligences than man, he would have nothing 
 to do with them. Sir Edward Tylor surmounts this 
 diflBculty by his famous " minimum definition of religion 
 — the belief in Spiritual Beings." * But it is only to land 
 himself in another. For religion is nothing if not 
 practical : the mere belief is not religion. As Lord 
 Avebury points out : " A belief in ghosts is in itself no 
 evidence of religion. A ghost is not a god, though it 
 may become one." * Australian savages believe in ghosts 
 — and tremble ; but of very few of them is anything 
 approaching to worship recorded. Conscious of this 
 objection. Professor Frazer employs the word Religion to 
 express " a propitiation or conciliation of powers superior 
 to man which are believed to direct and control the 
 course of nature and of human life. Thus defined, 
 religion consists of two elements, a theoretical and a 
 practical, namely, a belief in powers higher than man and 
 an attempt to propitiate or please them. . . . Hence belief 
 and practice or, in theological language, faith and works 
 
 > Jevons, Introd., 178, 7, 390 sqq. 
 
 2 Tylor, Prim. Cul., i. 383. 
 
 5 Avebury, Marriage, 142. I cannot find that he commits himself to a 
 definition of religion, though his view may perhaps be inferred from the 
 above quotation {cf. his Origin of Civilization, 205 sqq.). 
 
68 RITUAL AND BELIEF 
 
 are equally essential to religion, which cannot exist 
 without both of them." ^ 
 
 This definition supplies the obvious deficiency in 
 Tylor's ; but it does not touch the case of Buddhism. 
 And there is one important respect in which all these 
 definitions fail. None of them explicitly recognizes the 
 social character of the religions of the lower culture. For 
 aught that appears, religion might be the business of 
 solitary men, founded on their speculations, hopes and 
 fears, uncommunicated to and unshared by others, their 
 own individual concern. But, in savage life at least, 
 religion is pre-eminently social. Individual rites there 
 may be ; they are, however, parts of a whole, subordinate 
 to the common observances and common beliefs on which 
 they are founded. The individualist idea — the supreme 
 necessity of saving one's own soul — has no place in them. 
 St Simeon Stylites and the Hindu fakir are equally the 
 product of a much higher development. 
 
 A recent French writer, impressed with these objections 
 to the foregoing and similar definitions, has attempted 
 to formulate one more comprehensive and more subtle. 
 Summing up a long discussion, he concludes that "a 
 religion is a connected (solidaire) system of beliefs and 
 practices relative to sacred — that is to say, separated, 
 interdicted — things, — beliefs and practices that unite into 
 one moral community, called Church, all who adhere to 
 them." ^ This, however, is not Religion (with a capital 
 
 ^ Frazer, Magic Art, i. 222, 223. 
 
 2 Durkheim, Formes ilementaires, 65. M. Salomon Reinach in a 
 recent brilliant work on the history of religions proposes as a definition : 
 " An assemblage {ensemble) of scruples which stand in the way of the 
 free exercise of our faculties." This reduces religion to a system of 
 taboos. But he subsequently qualifies it by saying : " Animism on one 
 side, taboos on the other, these are the essential factors of religions " 
 {Orpheus, 4, 10). Thus qualified, however, it excludes Buddhism ; and 
 with or without the qualification it does not express the social side of 
 
RELATIONS OF RELIGION AND MAGIC 69 
 
 letter). Religion, referring of course to the theoretical 
 side or belief, he says elsewhere, " is before everything 
 a system of notions by means of which individuals 
 interpret the society of which they are members, and 
 the obscure but intimate relations they sustain with it." 
 And he goes on to say of the practical side that the 
 function of religious rites is to tighten the bonds that 
 unite the individual to the society.^ In other words, 
 Religion is Society realizing itself. Before considering 
 this definition, let us turn to Magic. 
 
 Professor Frazer draws a sharp line between religion 
 and magic. The latter is founded (unconsciously indeed, 
 for the primitive magician " never analyses the mental 
 processes on which his practice is based ") on the 
 assumption "that in nature one event follows another 
 necessarily and invariably without the intervention of 
 any spiritual or personal agency. . . . The magician 
 does not doubt that the same causes will always produce 
 the same effects, that the performance of the proper 
 ceremony, accompanied by the appropriate spell, will 
 inevitably be attended by the desired results, unless 
 indeed his incantations should chance to be thwarted and 
 foiled by the more potent charms of another sorcerer." ^ 
 The laws governing the practical application of this 
 assumption are resolved into two : " first, that like 
 produces like, or that an effect resembles its cause ; 
 and second, that things which have once been in contact 
 with each other continue to act on each other at a 
 distance after the physical contact has been severed. 
 
 religion. M. Reinach is quite conscious of these omissions. They are 
 an illustration of the extreme difficulty found by the most able and learned 
 enquirers in -formulating an adequate definition of rehgion, a definition 
 at once all-embracing and exact. 
 
 ' Durkheim, 323. 
 
 2 Frazer, Magic Art, i. 220. 
 
70 RITUAL AND BELIEF 
 
 The former principle may be called the Law of Similarity, 
 the latter the Law of Contact or Contagion. From the 
 first of these principles, namely, the Law of Similarity, 
 the magician infers that he can produce any effect he 
 desires merely by imitating it : from the second he infers 
 that whatever he does to a material object will affect equally 
 the person with whom the object was once in contact, 
 whether it formed part of his body or not. Charms 
 based on the Law of Similarity may be called Homoeo- 
 pathic or Imitative Magic. Charms based on the 
 Law of Contact or Contagion may be called Con- 
 tagious Magic." ^ Magic therefore is the result of 
 a mistaken association of ideas. It preceded religion. 
 But when man began to find out " the inherent falsehood 
 and barrenness of magic," when " men for the first time 
 recognized their inability to manipulate at pleasure 
 certain natural forces which hitherto they had believed 
 to be completely within their control," they fell back 
 on the theory that there were other beings like themselves 
 who directed the course of nature and brought about 
 the effects they had hitherto believed to be dependent on 
 their own magic. To them they turned in their help- 
 lessness, and thus evolved religion.^ Accordingly, magic 
 and religion have always been hostile. Magic has indeed 
 in many ages and in many lands permeated religion, has 
 often gone the length of fusing and amalgamating with 
 it. But this fusion was not primitive : they are originally 
 and fundamentally distinct.^ 
 
 In a powerful criticism of this theory Messrs Hubert 
 and Mauss, two French anthropologists, have pointed 
 
 ' Frazer, op. cit, 52. 
 
 ^ Ibid., 221, 237 sqq. 
 
 2 Ibid., 233. Frazer has worked out the theory more completely than 
 anyone else ; but it has been more or less anticipated, or shared, by others, 
 such as Sir Edward Tyler, Sir Alfred Lyall, and Professor Jevons. 
 
RELATIONS OF RELIGION AND MAGIC 71 
 
 out that Professor Frazer has omitted one essential item. 
 The effect of a magical rite is not attained merely by 
 sympathy. All magic is not sympathetic magic, whether 
 that sympathy be expressed by the Law of Similarity or 
 the Law of Contact. Moreover, even in sympathetic 
 magic the sympathetic formula is insufficient to account for 
 the facts. Sympathy is only the means by which the magical 
 force passes from the magician to the object at which 
 it is aimed ; it is not the magical force itself. That still 
 remains to be explained. It cannot be wholly explained 
 by the properties attributed to the materials used in 
 the magical rite, and that for three reasons. In the first 
 place, the notion of property is normally not the only 
 one present. The employment of substances having 
 magical properties is ritually conditioned. They must 
 be collected according to rule, at certain times, in certain 
 places, with certain means, and after certain ritual 
 preparations. When collected, they must be employed 
 according to certain rules and with the accompaniment 
 of rites, often exceedingly elaborate, which permit the 
 utilization of their qualities. In the second place, the 
 magical property is not conceived as naturally, absolutely, 
 and specifically inherent in the thing to which it is 
 attached, but always as relatively extrinsic and conferred. 
 Sometimes it is conferred by a rite. At other times it is 
 explained by a myth ; and in this case it is clearly 
 regarded as accidental and acquired. It often resides 
 in secondary characters, such as form, colour, rarity, and 
 so forth. In the third place, the notion of magical 
 property suffices so little that it is always confounded 
 with a very generalized idea of force and nature. The 
 idea of the effect to be produced may indeed be precise ; 
 but that of the special qualities of the substance used to 
 produce it, and their immediate action, is always obscure. 
 
72 RITUAL AND BELIEF 
 
 In fact, the idea of things having undefined virtues is 
 always prominent in magic. Salt, blood, saliva, coral, 
 iron, crystals, precious metals, the mountain ash, the 
 birch, the sacred fig-tree, camphor, incense, tobacco 
 are among the many objects which embody general 
 magical powers, capable of all sorts of applications. 
 Corresponding with this is the extreme vagueness of the 
 designations applied to magical properties, such as divine, 
 sacred, mysterious, lucky, unlucky, and equivalent ex- 
 pressions. The notion of property passes over easily 
 into power and spirit. Property and power are in- 
 separable terms ; property and spirit are often confounded. 
 The virtues or properties of a thing often belong to it 
 as the abode of a spirit. Spirits are indeed often the 
 agents of magic. It is hardly too much to say that there 
 is no magical rite in which their presence is not in some 
 degree possible, though not expressly mentioned. Magic 
 works in a special atmosphere, if not in the world of demons, 
 at least in conditions in which their presence is possible. 
 Beyond doubt, one of the essential characteristics of 
 magical causality is that it is spiritual. Yet the idea 
 of spiritual personalities ill represents the general 
 anonymous forces which constitute the power of 
 magicians. It gives no account of the virtue of words 
 or gestures, the power of a look or of the intention 
 the influence or the mode of action of a rite. It does 
 not explain why the magical rite controls and directs 
 spiritual existences, any more than the sympathetic 
 formula explains why the rite acts directly on the 
 object.^ 
 
 1 The above is a brief summary (partly borrowed from my review in 
 F. L., XV. 359) of a portion of the argument elaborated by MM. Hubert 
 and Mauss in their "Esquisse d'une Th^orie G^n^rale de la Magie," 
 L'Annk Soc, vii. 1-146. 
 
RELATIONS OF RELIGION AND MAGIC 73 
 
 I do not tarry now to give illustrations in detail of the 
 various points in the argument I have here summarized. 
 It is clear that Professor Frazer has overlooked something 
 of importance, from one fact alone to which he alludes, 
 but of which he fails to observe the vast implications. 
 The commonest excuse made by the magician for the 
 failure of his spells is that some other magician of 
 greater power is thwarting him. There must therefore 
 be degrees of power among magicians, however it be 
 acquired, and whether temporary or permanent, inherent 
 or due to the possession of greater knowledge or more 
 powerful spells. But that is a factor that tumbles the 
 whole edifice of the theory down. It introduces another 
 element — the personal potentiality. The same causes 
 do not always produce the same effects, apart from 
 the personal element ; the performance of the proper 
 ceremony, accompanied by the appropriate spell, is not 
 inevitably attended by the desired results ; the magician 
 has not reached the scientific conclusion " that in nature 
 one event follows another necessarily and invariably, 
 without the intervention of any spiritual or personal 
 agency." Nay, the intervention of the magician himself 
 is proof to the contrary. 
 
 Destructive criticism is comparatively easy ; anyone 
 can make objections. Not everyone can substitute a 
 sounder theory in place of that destroyed. It is when 
 Messrs Hubert and Mauss come to construct their own 
 theory of magic that they find themselves in difficulty. 
 For they have to admit that in magic the same collective 
 forces operate as in religion. Faith is as necessary to magic 
 as to religion ; it is as necessary to the magician as to the 
 priest. Trickery no doubt there is ; that has not always 
 been excluded from religion. But there is much more 
 than trickery. The magician believes in his own powers ; 
 
74 RITUAL AND BELIEF 
 
 and he believes all the more strongly because his public 
 believes. The faith of society and his own faith act and 
 react upon one another. But this is precisely the case 
 with the priest and his religion. 
 
 If we examine the magician's methods we can hardly 
 distinguish them from those employed in religion. The 
 attempt to bewitch an enemy by means of his clothing or 
 a fragment of his body is precisely the same in principle 
 as the proceedings already described at the inauguration 
 of a Polynesian king or the communication of the 
 virtues of mediaeval saints by means of their relics. It 
 is true that in the one case the object of the ceremony is 
 maleficent, in the other cases it is beneficent. If that 
 were a real distinction, the processes would stiU remain 
 analogous. It is not real, however ; for the sanctity of 
 Polynesian kings has its maleficent side, and the relics of 
 the saints have been often employed to the injury of an 
 enemy, as well as to the healing of a friend. Nor can it 
 be said that magic is purely an art, a technique, while 
 religion is dependent upon higher and independent wills. 
 The aid of spirits is often invoked in magic ; spell passes 
 easily into prayer, and prayer into spell. The accounts 
 that have reached us of the Witches' Sabbath may be the 
 product of hallucination, or confessions extorted from 
 victims who said what they were expected to say. But 
 at least they bear witness to the general belief of the 
 times, which regarded magic rather as a counter-religion 
 than as a mere technique. Professor Frazer's reply to 
 this is of course that such a belief, such practices, were 
 the result of a later fusion of religion and magic. That 
 the fusion was not primitive is, however, incapable of 
 proof. As we shall see by and by, in the lowest societies 
 of which we have evidence practices usually regarded 
 as magical are indistinguishable from those regarded as 
 
RELATIONS OF RELIGION AND MAGIC 75 
 
 religious. The mutual hostility of religion and magic, 
 where it exists, is, in truth, the result of a later 
 development. 
 
 Like religion, the chief factor in magic — that by which 
 it accomplishes its ends — is the mystic force that is 
 released and set at work by the rite or the spell. Behind 
 the sympathetic formula, behind the notions of property 
 and of spirits, there is another notion still more mysterious, 
 the notion of power, vague, impersonal, always operating, 
 irresistible, or depending for its efficaciousness on condi- 
 tions not altogether at command. The investigations of 
 the last chapter have disclosed to us what this power is. 
 By its very vagueness and impersonality it enshrines 
 possibilities illimitable. It may be materialized, localized, 
 personalized ; but it ceases not to be spiritual, to act at a 
 distance, and that by direct connection, if not by contact, 
 to be mobile and to move without movement, to be im- 
 personal though clothed in personal forms, to be divisible 
 yet continuous. It is this notion that accounts in the last 
 resort for the phenomena of magic. Without it, magic 
 is incomprehensible ; like a sentence without the copula, 
 the action, the affirmation is wanting. 
 
 All this is equally true of religion. The authors see 
 therefore that magic is, like religion, a social phenomenon ; 
 it has parallel rites with those of religion ; it has parallel 
 postulates and behefs. To distinguish it from religion 
 they are driven to erect into a test the individualistic 
 aims of its practitioners, or of those on whose behalf it is 
 called in aid. Its true distinction is, according to this, 
 that it tends to be isolated, to be furtive, to be put 
 into motion on behalf of individuals and against the 
 community ; its methods become arbitrary ; it ceases to 
 be a common obligation: Individuals in magic have appro- 
 priated the ideas and the collective forces generated by 
 
76 RITUAL AND BELIEF 
 
 religion, and turned them to their own ends. Religion, 
 in short, is social in its aims, magic is antisocial. That 
 is the only difference between them. In this distinction 
 Professor Durkheim agrees. Everywhere, he says, 
 religious life has for its substratum a definite group ; even 
 what are called private cults are celebrated by the family 
 or the corporation or society to which they are restricted. 
 On the other hand, though magical beliefs are widely 
 diflfused and practised by large classes of a population, their 
 effect is not to bind together those who adhere to them and 
 unite them into a group having one common life : there is 
 no magical Church. Between the magician and those who 
 consult him there is no durable bond. He has clients, not 
 a church. His relations with them are accidental, not per- 
 manent ; and they may have no relations with one another ; 
 they may even be ignorant of one another's existence.^ 
 
 But this very charge of being antisocial is brought 
 by many dominant religions against their rivals. It was 
 substantially the charge brought against the early 
 Christians by the Pagans. It is to-day the charge 
 formulated by fanatical Russian Christians against the 
 Jews. Here in the west of Europe it is, in a somewhat 
 vaguer form, the reproach of orthodox Christians against 
 Agnostics and all shades of Rationalists. To apply it as 
 a test to distinguish religion from magic is to qualify the 
 same practices as religious or as magical, according as 
 they have social or antisocial ends. And how shall we 
 define these ends ? The act which at one stage of 
 civilization is antisocial, at another is often a social duty. 
 To attempt a change in this respect may be antisocial as 
 regards the existing society, though it may result in 
 ultimate benefit ; and the attempt may be made from 
 purely individualist motives, for purely individualist ends. 
 
 ' Durkheim, op. cit., 6i. 
 
RELATIONS OF RELIGION AND MAGIC 77 
 
 Nay, the same act may be in the same society social 
 or antisocial, according to circumstances. In Central 
 Australia the man who kills an enemy by means of 
 aruttgquiltha, which may be rendered evil magic^ commits 
 an antisocial act ; he does it in secret : it would be 
 dangerous to let it become known. But if a woman run 
 away from her husband and cannot be recovered, he may 
 lawfully avenge himself with the aid of arungquiltha. He 
 is performing an act of social justice, and will be joined 
 in doing it by the men of his local group. In the same 
 way vengeance may be taken for a murder, real or 
 supposed, by a Kurdaitcha party, which performs what 
 we should designate as a magical ceremony to cause the 
 victim to sicken and die. This is held to be a social, 
 not an antisocial act, for it is fulfilling the social duty of 
 revenge. It is done with the sanction of the council of 
 elders.^ In Melanesia, as we have seen, all religion 
 consists in getting mana for oneself, not for the benefit 
 of others ; though doubtless the mana, when obtained, is 
 often used for the advantage of the community.* Often 
 it is not. "A man will commonly have his keramo, a 
 tindalo [a ghost that is worshipped] of killing, who will 
 help him in fighting or in slaying his private enemy." 
 The tindalo, albeit the object of religious worship, has 
 no prejudice against antisocial acts. His worshipper, 
 before going out to commit what we should call murder, 
 performs an elaborate ceremony, sacrificing to the ghost, 
 and cursing his victim. If he succeed in killing him, the 
 tindalo gets as his share of the spoil the ghost of the 
 deceased, and is invoked to give mana in return.* 
 
 The man who, in Europe or elsewhere, makes use of 
 
 1 Spencer and Gillen, C. T., 549, 476. ^tAnte, p. 50. 
 
 ' Codrington, 133. Another example is cited subsequently, p. 144, from 
 Borneo. 
 
78 RITUAL AND BELIEF 
 
 spells to injure individuals, or even of the Evil Eye, is 
 practising magic : he is doing an antisocial act. The 
 man who defends himself with a gesture, with spells, 
 or by loading his body with amulets, is not doing an 
 antisocial act ; he is simply protecting himself. But is 
 he practising religion or magic ? Be it remembered here 
 that a man may have the Evil Eye without knowing it. 
 Pius the Ninth, Vicar of Christ, was reputed to have the 
 Evil Eye. Nothing was so fatal as his blessing ; the 
 faithful quailed at his glance and doubtless protected 
 themselves with amulets. So the Boloki of the Congo 
 hold that " one can have witchcraft without knowing it." ^ 
 In these cases there can be no antisocial intention. 
 Among the Thonga of South-Eastern Africa a common 
 procedure is to point at one's enemy with the index- 
 finger. This is antisocial : it is witchcraft. Before they 
 go to war a ceremony is performed by an old woman, 
 naked and in a state of ritual purity, over the warriors, 
 and an incantation is muttered, to enable them to kill 
 their foes.^ This may not be antisocial ; but is it any- 
 thing else than magic .'' True, the men murmur prayers 
 to their ancestral spirits for help ; but then religion is 
 penetrated with magic. Even Professor Durkheim 
 admits that he cannot show a solution of continuity 
 between them ; the frontiers between their respective 
 domains are often undefined, unfixed.' At all events he 
 cannot say where the one ends and the other begins. 
 
 Perhaps, however, not the intention but the tendency, 
 whether social or antisocial, is the test. In that case it 
 is hard to conceive anything more antisocial than the 
 operations of the Holy Inquisition. They were, it is 
 
 * Weeks, 189 ; see ante, p. 65 note. 
 ^ Junod, 5. A. Tribe, ii. 467 ; i. 441. 
 ' Durkheim, op. cit., 63 note. 
 
RELATIONS OF RELIGION AND MAGIC 79 
 
 true, not performed by supernatural instrumentality, or 
 for supernatural purposes. To that extent they are not 
 directly parallel with the rites we have been considering. 
 But they were carried on by persons consecrated to 
 religion, as religious acts, surrounded by religious rites, 
 by exorcisms, imprecations, conjurations, shielded by 
 the Church with all her powers, and sanctioned, if not 
 set in motion, by the highest ecclesiastical authorities. 
 They desolated every society where the institution 
 was introduced.^ Secrecy has been already noted as a 
 characteristic of magic as opposed to religion. Naturally 
 antisocial acts are performed in secret. The deeds of 
 the Holy Office were done in the deepest dens of the 
 building, and surrounded by impervious precautions 
 against discovery, except the last dread act. In that 
 consummation of cruelty, that supreme Act of Faith, as 
 it was called, its officials nominally took no part ; though 
 it was well known that they insisted upon it relentlessly 
 and with every terror, ghostly or secular, which they 
 knew so well how to wield. On the other hand, the 
 African sorcerer, conjuring the rain or the sunshine so 
 necessary for the crops, performs an eminently social 
 work, and does it very often in the open eye of day and 
 before the assembled people. When a fisher-boat was 
 launched in the north-east of Scotland a bottle of whisky 
 used to be broken on the prow or stern with the words : 
 
 " Frae rocks an' saands 
 An' barren lands 
 An' ill men's hands 
 Keep's free. 
 Weel oot, weel in, 
 Wi' a gueede shot." 
 
 1 All this indictment holds good in a lesser degree of the witch-hunts of 
 Europe and New England. 
 
8o RITUAL AND BELIEF 
 
 "On the arrival of the boat at its new home the 
 skipper's wife, in some of the villages, took a lapful of 
 corn or barley, and sowed it over the boat." ^ These are 
 not antisocial acts ; they have no antisocial tendency ; 
 and they are not performed in secret. Must we account 
 them religious, and the operations of the Inquisition 
 magical ? 
 
 Thus antisocial character is no sufficient test of magic 
 as opposed to religion. Professor Doutt6, dealing with 
 magic as developed in Islam, adheres generally to the 
 views of Messrs Hubert and Mauss. He proposes, 
 however, another definition. Quoting with approval the 
 late M. Marillier's observation that magic is " the action 
 on the without by the within,"^ he remarks that the 
 savage has not yet made a sufficient distinction between 
 subject and object ; he does not differentiate himself from 
 the universe. And he concludes that magic, invented 
 under the pressure of need, is only the obj activation of 
 desire under the form of an extended force, singular, 
 bound to gestures representative of the phenomenon 
 desired and mechanically producing it. If the savage 
 externalize this magical force so far that he ends by 
 personifying it, we have the genesis of a god ; the god, 
 in fact, may be a personified mana. A god can only 
 be anthropomorphic ; he is the psycho-physical objecti- 
 vation of man in phenomena.* This brings Professor 
 
 > Gregor, 197. 
 
 2 This, however, is not exactly what Marillier says. " A ' natural ' act 
 (and that is its sole difference from a magical act) only reaches bodies, 
 or at least it only reaches the soul through the object it animates. A 
 magical practice, which may, however, be a purely material act, acts in 
 some way from within outwards (agit en quelque sorte du dedans au 
 dehors) ; it only kills or fecundates the man, animal, or plant to which 
 it is applied, by exercising first of all its beneficent or calamitous action 
 on the soul, which, like that of the sorcerer, is the principle of his life " 
 (^Rev. Hist. Rel, xxxvi. 343). ^ Doutt^, 338, 330. 
 
RELATIONS OF RELIGION AND MAGIC 8i 
 
 Doutt6 much nearer to Dr Frazer's position, and might 
 form the basis of an eirenicon between them. For though 
 he is fully aware that much in magic is indistinguishable 
 from religion, he holds it to be a subsequent develop- 
 ment : magic has so far modelled itself on religion and 
 borrowed its theistic methods of procedure. It presents 
 itself as an anti-religion. Under Christianity it reaches its 
 ultimate term with the Black Mass and the cult of the 
 devil : Islam does not lend itself so well to hideous 
 parody. Yet Professor Doutt6, after flirting with Pro- 
 fessor Frazer's opinion, comes back to the orthodoxy of the 
 French sociologists : the real distinction between religion 
 and magic is that the one is social — it sustains the life 
 of the society ; the other applies its rites to strictly 
 personal ends — it is antisocial. The one is magic lawful 
 and even obligatory ; the other is magic useless or 
 injurious to society, and it is condemned and interdicted. 
 Islam even recognizes white or religious magic ; the 
 Prophet himself recommended it. Ibn KhaldoAn, a 
 great Mohammedan jurist, can find, indeed, no solid 
 distinction between the miracle of the saint and the 
 prodigy wrought by the sorcerer, save that of the 
 morality of its aim. The test of morality is what is 
 permitted by the Law. That which is permitted by the 
 Law is moral ; the rest is immoral. It comes to this, 
 then, that a miracle is legitimate magic, and magic is 
 a forbidden miracle.^ 
 
 The same difficulty in severing magic from religion is 
 experienced by one of the acutest writers who has con- 
 sidered the subject. " Magic and religion," says Dr 
 Marett, " according to the view I would support, belong 
 
 1 Doutt^, 340, 334, 343, 338. Compare what the schoolboy called their 
 " conjuring tricks," performed before Pharaoh by Moses and Aaron, and 
 by the magicians (Ex. vii. 8 sqq.). 
 
82 RITUAL AND BELIEF 
 
 to the same department of human experience. . . . 
 Together they belong to the supernormal world, the 
 ^-region of experience, the region of mental twilight. 
 Magic I take to include all bad ways, and religion all good 
 ways, of dealing with the supernormal — bad and good, 
 of course, not as we may happen to judge them, but as 
 the society concerned judges them. Sometimes, indeed, 
 the people themselves hardly kiiow where to draw the 
 line between the two ; and in that case the anthropologist 
 cannot well do it for them. But every society thinks 
 witchcraft bad. Witchcraft consists in leaguing oneself 
 with supernormal powers of evil in order to effect selfish 
 and antisocial ends. Witchcraft then is genuine magic — 
 black magic, of the devil's colour."^ Presumably white 
 magic — magic performed for good and social ends — is 
 not magic ; it is a part of religion, notwithstanding that 
 precisely the same means may be employed as in witch- 
 craft — black magic. For Dr Marett adds : " Every 
 primitive society also distinguishes certain salutary ways 
 of dealing with supernormal powers. All these ways 
 taken together constitute religion."^ Coming more 
 particularly to define religion, he says : " Savage life has 
 few safeguards. Crisis is a frequent, if intermittent, 
 element in it. Hunger, sickness and war are examples 
 of crisis. Birth and death are crises. Marriage is usually 
 regarded by humanity as a crisis. So is initiation — the 
 turning-point in one's career, when one steps out into 
 the world of men. Now what in terms of mind does 
 crisis mean ? It means that one is at one's wits' end ; 
 that the ordinary and expected has been replaced by the 
 
 ' Marett, Anthrop., 209. Dr Marett might have omitted the words "of 
 evil " after " supernormal powers." They do not strengthen his argument. 
 In savage communities a hard and fast hne is not usually drawn between 
 supernormal powers of evil and supernormal powers of good. 
 
 2 Ibid., 210. 
 
RELATIONS OF RELIGION AND MAGIC 83 
 
 extraordinary and unexpected ; that we are projected 
 into the world of the unknown. . . . Psychologically 
 regarded, then, the function of religion is to restore men's 
 confidence when it is shaken by crisis. . . . Religion is 
 the facing of the unknown. It is the courage in it that 
 brings comfort." Sociologically, " a religion is the effort 
 to face crisis, so far as that effort is organized by society in 
 some particular way. A religion is congregational — that 
 is to say, serves the ends of a number of persons simul- 
 taneously. It is traditional — that is to say, has served 
 the ends of successive generations of persons. Therefore 
 inevitably it has standardized a method. It involves a 
 routine, a ritual. Also, it involves some sort of con- 
 ventional doctrine, which is, as it were, the inner side of 
 the ritual — its lining."^ 
 
 On this definition two observations may be made. The 
 first is that it does not exclude any rites performed for 
 social ends, or for individual ends, so far as they are not 
 definitely antisocial. The Australian husband meets the 
 crisis of desertion by his wife by means of arungquiltha. 
 He performs an act organized by society to meet this very 
 crisis — on the definition, therefore, a religious act. But 
 if by precisely the same process he attempt to slay his 
 enemy, he is guilty of magic. Or is the wife's desertion 
 not a crisis in the sense attached to the word by Dr 
 Marett .'' Perhaps it is a relief, a solution of a domestic 
 crisis. 
 
 The second observation is that the definition ignores 
 the whole of life not occupied by crises. When the 
 Californian Hupa awakes in the morning and sees the 
 dawn, it cannot be said that he is at his wits' end, that 
 the ordinary and expected has been replaced by the 
 extraordinary and unexpected. What does he do .'' He 
 1 Marett, Anthrof., 211. 
 
84 RITUAL AND BELIEF 
 
 greets the dawn with a silent prayer that he may see many 
 dawns, for he regards it as a person who is benevolently 
 inclined to him.^ This surely is religion. The point is 
 met by the further statement that "the religion of a 
 savage is part of his custom ; nay, rather it is his whole 
 custom so far as it appears sacred — so far as it coerces 
 him by way of his imagination. Between him and the 
 unknown stands nothing but his custom. It is his 
 all-in-all, his stand-by, his faith and his hope. Being thus 
 the sole source of his confidence, his custom, so far as his 
 imagination plays about it, becomes his ' luck.' We may 
 say that any and every custom, in so far as it is regarded 
 as lucky, is a religious rite."^ In that case religion is 
 much more than the facing of the unknown, the organized 
 effort to face crisis. It is custom coercing man by way 
 of his imagination. A convenient custom coerces by 
 way of their imagination weary women at Tlemcen in 
 Algeria not to sweep out the house for three days at the 
 New Year, so that they may not lose their luck.^ Can 
 we legitimately call this religion ? Or take another case. 
 There are people in England who will not utter a boast, 
 or tell a small social fib, without taking the precaution to 
 touch wood. I have known educated women drag a 
 chair across the room to a visitor who had just boasted 
 of immunity from a trifling ailment, in order that she 
 might touch wood. Despite their education, they were 
 coerced by way of their imagination to this little ceremony. 
 There must be thousands of things done merely for luck, 
 and done habitually, by peoples alike in barbarism and 
 in civilization. Some of them probably are relics of a 
 once living belief. About others there is no such pre- 
 
 > P. E. Goddard, Univ. Cal. Pub., i. 87. 
 
 2 Marett, Anthrop., 213. 
 
 ' Westermarck, Ceremonies, 67 note, quoting Destaing. 
 
RELATIONS OF RELIGION AND MAGIC 85 
 
 sumption ; yet they exercise the same constraint. Does 
 that make them religious rites ? Does it make even 
 those that once were portions of some living belief, but 
 are so no longer, religious rites now ? Of course it is 
 all a matter of definition of terms. But a definition of 
 religion which would include all these would be catholic 
 indeed. 
 
 The criticisms in this chapter involve no reflection on 
 the perspicacity of scientific writers who are trying to 
 obtain a clear vision of religion and magic and of their 
 specific differences. But they do aim at illustrating the 
 futility of the attempt absolutely to define anything so 
 fluid and elusive as religion.^ Both religion and magic 
 owe their origin to society ; they are born and nurtured 
 in a social atmosphere. Both are concerned with forces 
 mysterious, far-reaching, enveloping and constraining 
 
 > Reference may be made here to Mr Ernest Crawley, who writes like 
 Professor Jevons from a distinctly theological standpoint. I can find no 
 formal definition of religion in his book on the subject. He says : " The 
 vital instinct, the feeling of life, the will to live, the instinct to preserve it, 
 is the source of, or rather is identical with, the religious impulse, and is 
 the origin of religion "{Tree of Life, 214). But, as Professor Leuba has 
 rightly observed, " the love and lust of life is the source of all human conduct 
 and not of religion alone" {Psychol. Study, 48). Elsewhere Mr Crawley 
 observes that religion is not a department, like law or science, having a 
 special subject-matter ; it is " a tone or spirit." It " chiefly concerns itself 
 with elemental interests — life and death, birth and marriage are typical 
 cases " {op. cit., 204 sq^. Nor can I find any definition of magic, though 
 he maintains in opposition to Professor Frazer that " it seems impossible 
 to separate magic and religion in their early forms." " Indeed," he adds, 
 " the practical meaning of magic, when worked in connection with religion, 
 is control of the supernatural, which is thus not superior to man" (186). 
 What is magic when not "worked in connection with religion"? He 
 identifies mana with the force "which underlies magical processes 
 generally," but apparently not religious processes. A religious process he 
 defines as " that of making a thing sacred" (231 sq.). He opposes magic 
 to sacredness. " Sacredness is a result of the application of religious 
 impulse and of nothing else" (208 sq:). Compare Professor Durkheim's 
 definition of religion {supra, p. 68). Mr Crawley takes insufiicient account 
 of the social aspect of religion. 
 
86 RITUAL AND BELIEF 
 
 men and things. These forces are not always personal, 
 though their evolution usually takes a personal direction. 
 The means used by both are similar, because the forces 
 are the same, or at least alike. Spell and prayer are very 
 near akin ; the one passes insensibly into the other. And 
 the material means common to both are chosen arbitrarily 
 or according to some fancied symbolism, and employed 
 in closely parallel ways. There is, in short, no decided 
 boundary between religion and magic. 
 
 The task remains, notwithstanding, of defining the 
 words for the purposes of the following pages. It is 
 hopeless to attempt to harmonize the definitions we have 
 considered. Whatever definition we adopt, it is clear 
 that we cannot so express it as to confine religion within 
 its own bounds, or to outlaw magic from the territory 
 occupied by its rival. Yet a working definition is needed. 
 In framing it regard ought to be paid to the ordinary 
 meaning of the words : the definition must not be 
 arbitrary. 
 
 Now the word Magic, by the usage of centuries, is 
 concerned not so much with aim or tendency as with 
 method. It conveys the notion of power, by whatsoever 
 means acquired, wielded by the magician as his own, 
 and not as that of a higher being whose cooperation 
 is only obtained by supplication and self-abasement. 
 Supplication, self-abasement, flattery are the religious 
 means of winning the help of divinities. Where higher 
 beings, whether called gods or devils, or by the more 
 ambiguous tide of spirits, are invoked by spell, compliance 
 with the call is not dependent on their goodwill ; the 
 command is irresistible ; and the procedure is magical. 
 Sacrifice is utilized in both procedures ; but it has a very 
 different value in the one and the other. In the one it 
 operates as a communion with the divinity, as a gift to 
 
RELATIONS OF RELIGION AND MAGIC 87 
 
 win favour which he is by no means bound to grant, or 
 as an atonement for wrong. In the other it is a condition 
 on the fulfilment of which the desire of him who oiFers 
 it is accomplished, inevitably and by compulsion. In such 
 a case he who ofFers the sacrifice is not a worshipper ; 
 he is a master of the beings to whom it is offered. True, 
 they are sometimes gods. In the religion of the Hindus 
 " prayers, penances, and sacrifices are supposed to possess 
 an inherent and actual value, in no degree depending upon 
 the disposition or motive of the person who performs 
 them. They are drafts upon Heaven, for which the 
 Gods cannot refuse payment. The worst men, bent 
 upon the worst designs, have in this manner obtained 
 power which has made them formidable to the Supreme 
 Deities themselves." ^ Thus has Southey succinctly stated 
 the belief on which his poem of The Curse of Kehama is 
 built. Here by prayers are meant liturgical formulae, 
 which everywhere tend to degenerate into magical spells. 
 Penances are in the nature of sacrifices. Or they are 
 taboos that preserve and enhance the force and influence 
 of the suppliant. Both alike are a magical process, in 
 the sense in which the word Magic is generally employed. 
 The constraining power of sacrifices was also a tenet of 
 Egyptian religion, at all events in its last ages.^ Have 
 analogous beliefs in the magical powers of a rite even 
 yet disappeared from Christianity ? 
 
 This then is the sense in which I venture to think the 
 words Magic and Magical should be employed. It is 
 based upon their general, if somewhat vague, usage ; and 
 it is therefore intelligible to the ordinary reader without 
 recourse to a special definition. It is substantially that 
 of Professer Frazer, save that it affirms nothing concern- 
 
 * Southey, The Curse of Kehama, preface. 
 2 Augustine, Civ. Dei, x. ll, citing Porphyry. 
 
88 RITUAL AND BELIEF 
 
 ing the origin of the power active in magical practices : 
 it simply takes them as they are — again an undeniable 
 convenience. It follows that for our purpose Religion 
 will be confined to cultual systems, whose objects, so far 
 as they are personal, are endowed with free will, are to 
 be approached with true worship, and may or may not 
 grant the prayers of their suppliants. Here also we 
 have common usage on our side, with all its advantages. 
 In this use of the word Religion, where the object is 
 impersonal, or is but vaguely personal, it is none the 
 less treated with reverence and submission, as something 
 transcending man ; it is the object of an emotional 
 attitude, actively directed towards it. The object thus, 
 even where it is not personal, tends to become so. 
 Buddhism, in its original form, and similar religions are 
 the product of comparatively high civilizations. The 
 puritan severity of their primitive thought and practice 
 was speedily relaxed ; they acquired personal gods, and 
 thus liberated themselves from a rule of life based upon 
 philosophical considerations and the eiFort to escape with- 
 out the aid of the higher personalities, of which they 
 despaired, from the evils by which they felt themselves 
 oppressed. In the lower civilizations, as we have seen, 
 no sooner is an impersonal power conceived as acting 
 than it assumes personal characteristics. When once the 
 attention is concentrated upon any manifestation of it, 
 these characteristics, originally vague, are likely to be 
 emphasized, and may grow into true personalities. In 
 magic, on the other hand, the impersonal power does not 
 so readily become thus transformed, because the attention 
 fastens on the personal agent, the magician, rather than 
 on the power by which he operates. 
 
 When all is said, however, religion is (ideally, at least) 
 social — that is to say, moral — in its aims and tendencies, 
 
RELATIONS OF RELIGION AND MAGIC 89 
 
 whereas magic lends itself to individualist aims. Religion 
 binds the society together by raising the individual above 
 himself, and teaching him to subordinate his desires and 
 actions to the general good ; magic has no compunction 
 in assisting to carry out the wishes of the individual, 
 though they may be contrary to the interests of the 
 society as a whole. To that extent it is disruptive, 
 antisocial, immoral ; and when thus applied it may be 
 described as Black, or Evil, or Hostile Magic. Here 
 perhaps we find the origin of the opposition between 
 them. So far from religion and magic having been 
 originally hostile, the further we go back into savage life, 
 and presumably, therefore, towards primitive humanity, 
 the more we find them interwoven, indistinguishable. 
 It is only in the advance of civilization, and the con- 
 sequent evolution of religion and of magic that they 
 become conscious of mutual hostility. When once the 
 separation had begun it would tend to widen. Certain 
 methods and means would be regarded as proper to the 
 one, certain other methods and means as proper to the 
 other, albeit neither of them, not even the highest known 
 and recognized form of religion, has hitherto been able 
 to shake itself entirely free from the methods of the 
 other. This is not incompatible with increasing hostility. 
 The loftier the claims of religion become, the closer its 
 relations with the profoundest thought of mankind, the 
 more awful the sanctions it invokes, the more inevitable, 
 the more irreconcilable the hostility becomes. Family 
 quarrels are ever the bitterest. 
 
 III. Development 
 
 The discussion has led to some anticipation of the argu- 
 ment. We turn back again to the personal potentiality. 
 
90 RITUAL AND BELIEF 
 
 He for whom the world is full of personal beings and 
 hardly anything else — a universe of objects interpreted 
 in the terms of conscious personality and projected on a 
 background of the Unknown with all its possibilities — he 
 for whom each of those objects, human and non-human, 
 living and not-living, is invested in a greater or less 
 degree with orenda, will naturally and instinctively on the 
 one hand avail himself of his own orenda, and on the 
 other hand wiU dread and endeavour to turn to account 
 the orenda of others. But this very endeavour to turn 
 others' orenda to account is an exercise by prayer or 
 compulsion of his own. I can see no satisfactory evidence 
 that early man consciously entertained any great faith in 
 the order and uniformity of nature. Automatically, no 
 doubt, he assumed that night would follow day and day 
 night, that the winter would follow the summer or the 
 dry season the wet, that the trees would blossom in the 
 spring or after the rains set in, as he had been accustomed 
 to see them. But that was not the result of reflection ; 
 it was not an act of faith. So things had always been, 
 and he could not conceive any different course. It was 
 not part of his mental furniture ; it was no acquisition 
 of reasoning. It was the very framework of his mind. 
 When he began to reflect he referred these phenomena 
 to the same cause to which he referred his own acts, and 
 the more uncertain and capricious acts of other living 
 beings — to personal will and orenda. Even if he had 
 risen to the large conception of the Siouan wakonda, that 
 impersonal force must, as we have seen, clothe itself with 
 personality in order to operate. Immediately and for 
 practical purposes the personal will and orenda of himself 
 or some other object were the fount of all causation. 
 They impelled and directed all actions, all means, and 
 were responsible for all effects. If he took aim at his 
 
RELATIONS OF RELIGION AND MAGIC 91 
 
 enemy and flung his spear, or whatever primitive weapon 
 served the same purpose ; if it hit the man, and he fell ; 
 he might witness the result, but the mere mechanical 
 causation, however inevitable in its action, would be the 
 last thing he would think about. Conscious of his own 
 will, of his own eiFort, of the words, perhaps, with which 
 he had accompanied and directed the spear, he would 
 attribute the result to such causes as these. His own 
 orenda felt in his passion, his will, his effort, and displayed 
 in his acts and words, the orenda of the spear, either 
 inherent in itself, conceived as a personal being, or 
 conferred by its maker, and manifested in the keenness 
 of its point, the precision and the force with which it 
 flies to its work and inflicts the deadly wound — these 
 would be to him the true causes of his enemy's fall. 
 His orenda is mightier than his enemy's and overcomes 
 it. So, when the enemy is absent and he cannot visibly 
 reach him, his orenda may yet suffice to accomplish the 
 desired injury. By a psychological process which Dr 
 Marett has subdy analysed,^ he is led to perform in 
 pantomime all the acts of a murder in the absence of 
 the victim, either silently, or to the accompaniment of a 
 chant, or of spoken words. His foe, who is as convinced 
 as himself of the power of such a performance, if it 
 come to his knowledge, falls a victim to the terror it 
 inspires, unless he can call in the aid of some other person, 
 objective or imaginary, whose orenda is more powerful 
 stiU. Nor would the belief lack vindication even in the 
 case of the victim's ignorance ; for any chance misfortune 
 or sickness would be put down to a hostile orenda ; and 
 if he did escape, it would be due to his own superior 
 orenda. 
 
 Thus what we generally call magic or witchcraft is 
 1 Marett, Threshold, 44 sqq. 
 
92 RITUAL AND BELIEF 
 
 primarily an application of orenda. By his orenda a man 
 bewitches his enemy (or, for a consideration, someone 
 else's enemy), causes rain or sunshine, raises and protects 
 the crops, gains success in hunting, divines the cause of 
 sickness and cures it, raises the dead, spells out the future. 
 His incantations, his gestures, his apparatus — whether of 
 plants, stones, animal products, magical drawings, or 
 whatever else it may be — would be of no avail without 
 this. In Central Australia the Arunta magician arms his 
 "pointing bone" with arungquiltha. In Central Africa 
 the Murundi impregnates his magical implements with 
 evil influence by means of his imprecations, his incanta- 
 tions, and his evocation of spirits. That is, he puts into 
 them his orenda or the mana of the spirits : until then 
 they are absolutely powerless and indifferent.^ This 
 influence, this orenda, mana, or arungquiltha, is the nexus 
 — the copula, as it has been called — which links the 
 subject, the magician, to the object, the result. 
 
 But man is not the only being who possesses orenda. 
 The orenda of his quarry sometimes foils his own. The 
 cicada chirping in the fields ripens the maize for the 
 Iroquois ; the orenda of the rabbit controls the snow 
 and fixes the depth to which it must fall. The awful 
 mountain, the treacherous sea, those mighty beings who 
 command the winds, who send forth the storm, who rule 
 in the darkness and mystery of the forest, possess an 
 orenda surpassing man's. It is useless to pit his orenda 
 against theirs. Therefore he must adopt a different 
 course. He must lay down his orenda and submit it 
 to theirs. This is the literal meaning of the Iroquoian 
 phrase which signifies in modern usage " He habitually 
 prays." ^ He must take such a course as he would to 
 
 ' J. M. M. van der Burgt, 55. 
 
 2 Hewitt, Am. Anthr., N.S., iv., 40, 
 
RELATIONS OF RELIGION AND MAGIC 93 
 
 obtain assistance from a human being (say, a powerful 
 chief), or to conciliate an enemy. By gift, by abasement, 
 by abstinence, by self-torture, by cajolery he must win 
 this powerful orenda to his side. Of these efforts 
 abstinence and abasement are negative forms of propitia- 
 tion. They are perhaps the earliest forms. If our 
 reports be complete (on which we may have our doubts), 
 abstinence is the only form used among the Andaman 
 Islanders, where belief is said to outrun active worship.^ 
 In any case a taboo for propitiatory purposes is very early 
 and very persistent. Not without insight does the poet 
 tell us that Caliban 
 
 " Will let those quails fly, will not eat this month 
 One little mess of whelks, so he may 'scape." 
 
 And the modern European has still his Lent, and his 
 Ember Days and Fridays throughout the year. Such 
 abstinence is the laying down and submission of the 
 orenda to those of mightier beings. On the other hand, 
 gift, prayer, cajolery are, properly speaking, an active 
 exercise of orenda. The relation of spell and incantation 
 to prayer has already been alluded to. They are often 
 indistinguishable : they shade into one another by the 
 finest gradations. Gifts are not mere self-deprivation. 
 They must be accompanied by rites more or less elaborate, 
 to render them acceptable to the lofty beings for whom 
 they are intended. Or they are part of a bargain ; they 
 are the performance on the suppliant's side which demands 
 a corresponding return on the side of the god. More 
 than one comparatively civilized people has held that 
 sacrifices properly performed not merely incline but 
 compel the gods to grant what their worshipper desires. 
 Gesture-language plays a large part in savage life. A 
 
 E. H. Man,/. A. I., xii. 1 6 1, 163, 353, etc. 
 
94 RITUAL AND BELIEF 
 
 ceremony such as those familiar to us in sympathetic 
 magic — to take only one instance, the sticking of pins 
 into a waxen figure — frequently is, to a large extent, 
 gesture-language : it helps to suggest to the super- 
 natural personages of whose orenda the magician desires 
 to make use exactly what is wanted. It is more than 
 this, of course. It is in part the make-believe which is a 
 relief to overcharged feelings ; in part it is the means by 
 which the orenda is conveyed to the object intended to be 
 affected. The concomitant words that form part of the 
 ceremony emphasize the desire. They fill and strengthen 
 the instrument with the orenda of the performer, or of 
 the supernatural personage invoked or compelled to assist ; 
 they direct the instrument, considered as a personal being, 
 in the service it is required to fulfil ; or they allure, en- 
 treat, or command the object at which the rite is aimed. 
 
 If the view here taken be accurate, the essential 
 opposition between magic and religion disappears. Nor 
 am I greatly concerned to decide whether of the two 
 developed the earlier. Their origin is the same ; they 
 grow from one root. Nay, I should hardly be wrong if 
 I changed the metaphor and said : magic and religion are 
 the two faces of one medal. From the lowest stage of 
 culture to the highest we find them inseparable. Gods 
 were not invented because man proved unequal to the 
 strain of arranging the affairs of the universe by himself ; 
 nor has the age of religion been everywhere preceded by 
 the age of magic. " By whatever name it is called," says 
 Dr Codrington, speaking of the Melanesian mana, " it is 
 the belief in this supernatural power and in the efficacy 
 of the various means by which spirits and ghosts can be 
 induced to exercise it for the benefit of men that is the 
 foundation of the rites and practices which can be caUed 
 religious : and it is from the same belief that everything 
 
RELATIONS OF RELIGION AND MAGIC 95 
 
 which may be called magic and witchcraft draws its origin. 
 Wizards, doctors, weather-mongers, prophets, diviners, 
 dreamers, all alike, everywhere in the islands, work by 
 this power. There are many of these who may be said 
 to exercise their art as a profession ; they get their 
 property and influence in this way. Every considerable 
 village or settlement is sure to have someone who can 
 control the weather and the waves, someone who knows 
 how to treat sickness, someone who can work mischief 
 with various charms. There may be one whose skill 
 extends to all these branches ; but generally one man 
 knows how to do one thing and one another. This 
 various knowledge is handed down from father to son, 
 from uncle to sister's son [for in many of these islands 
 descent is still reckoned exclusively through the mother], 
 in the same way as is the knowledge of rites and methods 
 of sacrifice and prayer ; and very often the same man 
 who knows the sacrifice knows also the making of the 
 weather and of charms for many purposes besides. But 
 as there is no order of priests, there is also no order of 
 magicians or medicine-men. Almost every man of con- 
 sideration knows how to approach some ghost or spirit, 
 and has some secret of occult practices. Knowledge of 
 either kind can be bought, if the possessor chooses to 
 impart it to any other than the heirs of whatever he has 
 besides." ^ 
 
 Here we see, as yet undistinguished, the beginnings 
 of the professional magician and the professional priest. 
 Roughly and provisionally it may be said that the 
 professional magician is he who in the course of the 
 evolution of society, by birth, by purchase, or by study 
 and practice in the conventional methods, has acquired 
 the most powerful orenda. Similarly, the professional 
 I Codrington, 192. 
 
96 RITUAL AND BELIEF 
 
 priest is he who in these ways, or by prayer and fasting, 
 has obtained the favour of the imaginary personages 
 believed to influence or control the affairs of men — who 
 has, in a word, possessed himself of their orenda. The 
 union of these two professions in one person is not 
 adventitious ; it is probably fundamental ; it is at least 
 so general that in describing the society of savages and 
 peoples in low stages of culture observers are often at a 
 loss whether to call their functionaries priests or wizards, 
 exorcists or medicine-men. Consequently, many anthro- 
 pological writers use the word shaman^ borrowed from 
 the Tunguz, a tribe of South-Eastern Siberia, and including 
 all four meanings. For in that condition of society 
 the functions of priest and sorcerer and medicine-man 
 are, as Professor Frazer says, " not yet differentiated from 
 each other." That could not be until, in the course of 
 evolution, religion became severed from magic. Yet it 
 has never become so wholly severed that the primitive 
 connection may not be traced. Priests have become 
 organized into a separate order. Triumphant religions 
 have proscribed the conquered faiths, and have repudiated 
 their practices as magical. Magic has thus become a 
 term of opprobrium. The conquered faiths under 
 repression have carried on their religious worship mixed 
 with magical rites and tending more and more to be 
 degraded, yet never losing all religious elements. Even 
 the magic of the Middle Ages and later, in Europe, 
 if we may trust the confessions of the judicial victims 
 themselves, was mingled with the worship of a being 
 in whom they recognized the devil, perhaps the last 
 avatar of a heathen god ; and witchcraft was one of the 
 commonest charges against heretics. On the other 
 hand, not even the highest religions have been able to 
 free themselves wholly from rites strictly parallel to those 
 
RELATIONS OF RELIGION AND MAGIC 97 
 
 characterized as magical, by which their followers have 
 striven to compass union with the objects of worship, 
 to avail themselves of the orenda of these objects, to 
 locate it in their own persons or in the images and 
 implements of their cult, to intensify their own orenda, 
 and to exercise it for the benefit, spiritual, corporal or 
 pecuniary, of themselves and others. 
 
 It may be well to illustrate the foregoing speculation 
 from the customs and superstitions of the Arunta of 
 Central Australia. The Arunta have been represented 
 to be the lowest and least evolved of known humanity in 
 their beliefs and institutions : they are, it is said, still 
 in the stage of primitive absence of religion ; magic alone 
 is the object of their belief ; magic alone they practise. 
 Now none of the Australian tribes are, strictly speaking, 
 in a primitive condition. The civilization of all of them 
 has evolved to some extent. It has evolved, speaking 
 in general terms, along similar lines ; and these lines 
 have been conditioned by the environment. It is 
 admittedly significant that, in a land where so many 
 archaic types of the lower animals have survived, we 
 should find archaic types of human culture. Yet the 
 most archaic types of Australian culture are far from being 
 primitive. So far are they that the social organization is 
 of the most complex character, the product of a succes- 
 sion of stages of development. The least archaic types 
 exhibit the old social organization breaking down and 
 new structures in course of formation. With the 
 evolution of society an evolution of belief has also been 
 going on. It has not been exactly concurrent. Culture 
 rarely or never evolves equally in all directions. It is 
 a mental process, partly conscious, partly unconscious. 
 The collective mind of a given society, like the individual 
 minds of which it is composed, is not exercised equally 
 
 7 
 
98 RITUAL AND BELIEF 
 
 on all subjects at the same time. Hence while, for 
 example, we find among the Euahlayi tribe, in the north 
 of New South Wales, an advanced theology and a more 
 developed worship than have been recorded elsewhere in 
 Australia, the social organization is still on the basis of 
 female descent ; and though the clansmen eat without 
 scruple their hereditary totems, in other respects the 
 totemic system seems to be in full force. In the same 
 way the Arunta and their neighbours certainly preserve 
 relics of a very archaic condition of thought and social 
 organization. Though for certain purposes a son inherits 
 from his mother's husband, it is doubtful whether descent 
 is counted through the father for social purposes ; the 
 physical relation between father and child, indeed, is but 
 imperfectly recognized. On the other hand, they have 
 developed a very elaborate theory of reincarnation, and 
 their totemic system seems to be in course of transforma- 
 tion into a number of societies bearing in some respects 
 remarkable resemblance to those of the tribes of British 
 Columbia.^ Magical practices (chiefly in connection with 
 these societies or totemic groups) are more prominent 
 than religious. 
 
 Yet a closer examination will lead us to the conclusion 
 that something more than, on any definition of magic, we 
 can call magical practices, something we must recognize 
 as religion, albeit of a low type, is not wholly wanting 
 to the natives of Central Australia. We may perhaps 
 grant that Twanyirika, with whose name the women and 
 
 1 The primary authority on the Arunta and neighbouring tribes is 
 Messrs Spencer and Gillen, C. T. and N. T., and Rep. Horn Exped., 
 but Strehlow's researches {Aranda- und Loritja-stdmme) are important. 
 The results of the latter are divergent to some extent from those of the 
 former, but in most respects are not irreconcilable. See, e.g., Professor 
 Durkheim's valuable discussion of the different versions of reincarnation, 
 op. cit., 3S7 -f??- I have stated above in a summary manner what seems 
 to be the result of the criticism of both authorities. 
 
RELATIONS OF RELIGION AND MAGIC 99 
 
 uninitiate children are kept in awe, is a bugbear "to 
 frighten babes withal," and nothing more. The Kaitish 
 and the Loritja, adjacent tribes sharing the general culture 
 of the Arunta, at all events believe in the real existence 
 of a superior being, who invented the initiation rites and 
 is pleased when men perform them now.^ Indeed, if 
 Herr Strehlow's investigations are to be trusted, the 
 Arunta themselves are not destitute of belief in such a 
 being, though we learn little about him, and he has no 
 influence on the destinies of mankind.^ Among the 
 Warramunga, a tribe a little further to the north, the 
 Wollunqua, a gigantic mythical snake, is the object of 
 important rites, and one of the totem-clans is called by- 
 its name. It dwells in a certain water-hole in a lonely 
 vaUey of the Murchison Range, "and there is always the 
 fear that it may take it into its head to come out of its 
 hiding-place and do some damage." Hence propitiation 
 is necessary. This is effected by building a mound of 
 sandy earth and delineating on it a representation of the 
 animal. " They say that when he sees the mound with 
 his representation drawn upon it, he is gratified, and 
 wriggles about underneath with pleasure." On the 
 evening of the day succeeding that on which the 
 ceremonies in connection with this mound were witnessed 
 by Messrs. Spencer and Gillen, " the old men who had 
 made the mound said that they had heard the Wollunqua 
 talking, and that he was pleased with what had been done 
 and was sending rain ; the explanation of which doubtless 
 was that they, like ourselves, had heard thunder in the 
 distance. No rain fell, but a few days later the distant 
 rumble of thunder was again heard at night-time ; and 
 
 1 Spencer and Gillen, N. T., 498 ; Strehlow, ii. i. Cf. Rep. Horn 
 Exped., iv. 183. 
 
 2 Strehlow, i. i. 
 
loo RITUAL AND BELIEF 
 
 this, the old men now said, was the Wollunqua growling 
 because the remains of the mound had been left 
 uncovered. They also told the younger men that a 
 heavy bank of clouds which lay on the western horizon 
 had been placed there as a warning by the Wollunqua, 
 and at once cut down boughs and hid the ruins of the 
 mound from view, after which the Wollunqua ceased 
 from growling, and all went on peacefully until the end 
 of the series " of ceremonies.^ There are, of course, 
 myths associated with the Wollunqua. The mound 
 recalled one of them. During its building and the 
 ceremonies about it chants were sung referring to the 
 deeds of the Wollunqua, breaking out from time to time 
 into refrains of words, now at least meaningless, and said 
 to belong to the language of the mythical past. The 
 name Wollunqua is avoided in common parlance. A 
 circumlocution is employed instead, "because, so they 
 told us, if they were to call it too often by its real name, 
 they would lose their control over it and it would come 
 out and eat them all up."* How does this difFer from 
 the familiar taboo of sacred names ? When the explorers 
 were taken to visit the WoUunqua's dwelling-place 
 (should we be wrong to call it his shrine ?), the two chief 
 men of the totemic group went down to the water's edge 
 and addressed him in whispers with bowed heads, praying 
 him to remain quiet and do them no harm, for they were 
 mates of his and had brought up two great white men 
 to see where he lived and to tell them about him. 
 " We could plainly see that it was aU very real to them, 
 and that they implicitly believed that the Wollunqua was 
 indeed alive beneath the water, watching them, though 
 they could not see him." * In all these rites (the details 
 
 1 Spencer and Gillen, N. T., 227, 232, 238. 
 » Hid., 227. 3 /did., 252. 
 
RELATIONS OF RELIGION AND MAGIC loi 
 
 of which were carried out with earnestness and frequently 
 with excitement) it can hardly be denied that we have the 
 elements of a true cult. The only one as to which any 
 qualification could be admitted is "the savage attack," 
 described as being made on the mound when the ceremony 
 relating to it was concluded. The result of it was that 
 the figures delineated on the mound were destroyed, and 
 all that remained was a rough heap of sandy earth. This 
 is represented as an attempt to " coerce the mythic beast." 
 It is not quite certain that the interpretation is correct, 
 for it does not rest on native statements, but is an 
 inference of the explorers. The obliteration of sacred 
 figures drawn on sand or earth for the purpose of a rite 
 is not confined to the cult of the WoUunqua, nor even to 
 Australia. It is equally found among the Pueblo tribes of 
 North America and the Mongolian Buddhists of Central 
 Asia.'^ Its object is to hide the sacred symbols from the 
 eyes of the profane. But if the interpretation were 
 correct (and it is not inconsistent with some of the 
 expressions and traditions reported), it is no more than we 
 might expect. If a savage deals with the mythic figures 
 of his imagination as he deals with his fellowman, we 
 must not be surprised that he should pass from cajolery 
 to coercion, from prayer to defiance. Peoples on a much 
 higher religious horizon (as we shall see hereafter) do not 
 hesitate to threaten, and even to offer violence to, the 
 objects of their worship, when they are unable to obtain 
 otherwise what they want. 
 
 Nor are the rites of the WoUunqua alone among these 
 tribes in bearing evidence of something more than 
 magical ceremonies, namely, of rudimentary worship. 
 
 ^ For the Mongolian practice see Amer. Anikr., N.S., xv. 370. The 
 Pueblo Indian practice has been recorded by every scientific enquirer 
 among the tribes. 
 
I02 RITUAL AND BELIEF 
 
 When at the close of the initiation rites among the 
 Arunta someone with a bundle of churinga^ sacred stones 
 or sticks in the shape of a bull-roarer, comes up to the 
 newly initiated youth, saying : " Here is Twanyirika, of 
 whom you have heard so much ; they are churinga and 
 will help to heal you quickly," ^ neither the neophyte nor 
 his friend regards them as mere toys. The statement 
 that they will help to heal the neophyte's wounds is 
 enough to show this. We must not be misled by the 
 apparent anticlimax to forget that they are, throughout 
 this group of tribes, mysterious objects, marked with the 
 emblem of the totem, and in the closest association with 
 it ; to the Arunta and Loritja they are the outward and 
 visible sign, if not the embodiment, of the ancestral souls 
 or invisible portions, and as such are regarded with 
 veneration.^ They are kept cunningly concealed from 
 the eyes of the profane, hidden in stores which are 
 sanctuaries, places of refuge from the pursuit of enemies, 
 for men and even for wild animals. Herr Strehlow 
 relates that when he was trying to find a native word to 
 translate churchy two baptized Blackfellows in all serious- 
 ness suggested to him the use of arknanaua, the name of 
 these sacred storehouses in their tongue.* The very 
 word churinga means, as nearly as can be rendered in 
 a European tongue, hidden away, secret, appropriated, 
 sacred. It is used as an adjective to describe objects 
 employed in the sacred ceremonies, and the secret name 
 bestowed on a child at birth. In this connection it is 
 
 1 Spencer and Gillen, C. T., 249. Note also the threat which follows. 
 
 2 M. Durkheim contends, and I think with justice, that the association 
 of the churinga with individual ancestors, and therefore with their 
 descendants, or rather reincarnations, is secondary {op. cit, 173). But cf. 
 Spencer and Gillen, TV. 7"., 281. 
 
 ^ Strehlow, ii. 78. He resisted the temptation and avoided the mistake 
 made so often by missionaries of translating by native words Christian 
 terms of fundamentally different content. 
 
RELATIONS OF RELIGION AND MAGIC 103 
 
 important to remember that the sacred ceremonies, and 
 in fact everything sacred, are among these tribes secret 
 also from the uninitiate. Though individuals may, at 
 least among the Arunta and Loritja, have special property 
 in their churingas, the latter are, as a whole, the collective 
 property of the totemic clan ; they are under the control 
 of the ceremonial headman ; their loss is the most 
 serious evil that can befall a group ; and even to lend 
 them to another group, as is occasionally done for special 
 purposes, is undertaken with the greatest solemnity and 
 caution. When returned, they are received with every 
 mark of veneration, with weeping and a low, mournful 
 chant ; and both parties must be strictly fasting.^ 
 
 The churinga are, moreover, endowed with power, with 
 mana, which not merely heals wounds, but when they 
 are brought ceremonially in contact with the body 
 produces other physical, mental, and even moral eiFects. 
 In the Kaitish tribe the performance of some ceremonies, 
 in the course of which the churinga are handled, renders a 
 man so full of this mana, or, as they call it, churinga, using 
 the very word, that he becomes for the time taboo.^ 
 In addition, the churinga have virtue to make the yams 
 and the grass-seed grow ; they frighten the game, or 
 enable a man to secure it, and so forth. They are handled 
 in a manner which it is no exaggeration to call devout. 
 They are polished with red ochre to " soften " them, 
 a term that, as Messrs Spencer and Gillen remark, " very 
 evidently points to the fact that the [churinga] is regarded 
 as something much more than a piece of wood or stone. 
 It is intimately associated with the ancestor, and has 
 'feelings,' just as human beings have, which can be 
 soothed by rubbing in the same way in which those of 
 living men can be." We gather that a man will sing 
 1 Spencer and Gillen, N. T., 259 sqq. ^ Ibid., 293. 
 
I04 RITUAL AND BELIEF 
 
 to his churinga, that the subject of his song wiU be the 
 mythical story of the ancestor (or the previous incarnation) 
 to whom it belonged, and that as he sings and rubs it 
 with his hand, "he gradually comes to feel that there 
 is some special association between him and the sacred 
 object — that a virtue of some kind passes from it to him, 
 and also from him to it." So from generation to genera- 
 tion it gathers more and more of what our authors 
 describe as magical power — what would certainly be 
 called in Melanesia mana — the mystic potentiality already 
 discussed.^ 
 
 Thus the churinga have to the Blackfellow a more or 
 less definitely personal aspect. It may be said that the 
 songs chanted over them are after all merely magical 
 spells. But the spell implies some more or less defined 
 personality in the objects to which it is addressed. In 
 these tribes rites are performed, called in the Arunta 
 tongue Intichiuma, for the purpose of causing a manifesta- 
 tion of the power of the totem, of multiplying the totem- 
 animal or plant, and generally of increasing the prosperity 
 of the totem. In the course of these rites there is much 
 singing. The members of the group invite the witchetty 
 grubs to come from all directions and lay their eggs, or 
 the hakea-trees to flower and their blossoms to fill with 
 honey ; they beg the rain to come and bring fish ; they 
 direct the kangaroos to go from one place to another ; and 
 so on. Even when the songs and the actions performed 
 in the ceremonies recall the events of the mythical past, 
 they are not necessarily more magical than the words 
 of sacred dramas, which everywhere in the lower culture 
 inseparably interweave what we generally speak of as 
 magic and religion. The mighty ancestors (as elsewhere 
 
 ' Spencer and Gillen, C. T., chaps, v. and vi. passim ; N. T., chap. viii. 
 passim ; Strehlow, ii. 75 sgq. 
 
RELATIONS OF RELIGION AND MAGIC 105 
 
 the gods) whose deeds they chant are present in the 
 rite. "The totem, the ancestor, and the descendant 
 (that is to say, the performer) appear in these songs 
 as one. Without keeping in view the indivisible unity 
 of the totem, the mythic ancestor and the offspring 
 (ratapd), many of the songs are quite incompre- 
 hensible." ^ Thus where invitation or command is 
 not issued directly to the object, the mana of the 
 ancestors seems to be evoked for the accomplishment 
 of the end. 
 
 Again, so far from the Arunta medicine-men being 
 practitioners of anything analogous to modern science, 
 they are initiated by, and their power is derived from, 
 the spirits. These spirits are believed to put the candidate 
 to death, to carry him down into their abode, and there 
 to take out his internal organs, replacing them with a 
 new set, planting in his body a supply of magical crystals 
 by which all his subsequent wonders will be performed, 
 and then bringing him to life again. He remains, 
 however, in a condition of insanity for some days. It is 
 true that an imitation of this process can be performed 
 by medicine-men of flesh and blood ; but candidates 
 thus initiated have a lower repute (save apparently among 
 the Warramunga) than those initiated directly by the 
 spirits. The crystals are in any case the home and 
 symbol of the magician's powers. They are in fact full 
 of mana. If they be lost, the magician ceases to be a 
 magician, and the crystals themselves return to the 
 spirits. All over Australia, so far as we know, the same 
 influence is attributed to them.^ On the eastern side 
 of the continent, where something like a tribal AU- 
 
 1 Strehlow, iii. 6. 
 
 2 Spencer and Gillen, C. T., chap. xvi. ; N. T., chap. xv. ; Rep. Horn 
 Exped., i8o. 
 
io6 RITUAL AND BELIEF 
 
 Father is believed in, he is regarded, like Odin, as the 
 mightiest of magicians, and the crystals are, as weU as 
 the buU-roarer, among his special attributes. Let me 
 observe too in passing that it is not a little significant 
 that, as in the witchcraft of Europe and Africa, portions 
 of dead bodies are in great request in Australia for 
 magical purposes. The "pointing bone," to which I 
 referred just now, is part of a dead man's leg or arm. 
 A portion of his personality inheres in it. Consequently, 
 even before it is " sung," it is endowed with his mana, 
 which the singing only enhances and directs in its course.^ 
 For the same reason human fat and a dead man's hair 
 are important parts of the Australian native's magical 
 apparatus. 
 
 The initiation of the medicine-man or magician by 
 spirits, often the spirits of the dead, is practically the uni- 
 versal belief in Australia. In this respect the Australian 
 medicine-man is in line with many of his professional 
 brethren elsewhere. In the island of Saghalien the 
 Gilyak shamans are chosen vessels, to whom their 
 tutelary gods reveal their high calling in vision or in 
 trance. From the moment that this is done the gods 
 install themselves as the new shaman's assistants and 
 perform his commands. Yet shamanhood is not regarded 
 as a gift, but as a burden. To become a shaman, either 
 a man must find favour with one of these assistant 
 tutelary gods, or such a god must be bestowed upon him 
 by his father or uncle. Conversion into a shaman forms 
 a break in the life of the chosen, accompanied by many 
 complicated psychical phenomena. The process in his 
 own case was described by a shaman to a Russian 
 anthropologist. For more than two months he was sick 
 and lay without movement or consciousness. As soon 
 1 Spencer and Gillen, C. T., 534, 553. Cf. 480, 538. 
 
RELATIONS OF RELIGION AND MAGIC 107 
 
 as he revived from one attack he fell under another. 
 " I should have died," he said, « if I had not become a 
 shaman." He began to dream at night that he sang 
 shaman songs. Visions appeared to him, and he was told 
 to make a drum and the proper apparatus of a shaman, 
 and to sing. If he were a simple man, the vision told 
 him, nothing would happen ; " but if thou art a shaman, 
 be a real shaman." When he awoke he found that it 
 was thought the spirits had killed him, and preparations 
 for his funeral rites had been made. But he got a drum 
 and began to sing. This produced a feeling which 
 hovered between intoxication and death. Then for the 
 first time he saw his tutelary gods, and received from 
 them instruction in his business as a shaman.-' Among 
 the Koryak on the adjacent continent, "nobody can 
 become a shaman of his own free will. The spirits enter 
 into any person they may choose and force him to 
 become their servant." Such persons are " usually 
 nervous young men, subject to hysterical fits, by means 
 of which the spirits express their demand " that the 
 patient shall become a shaman. Fasting, paroxysms, 
 exhaustion succeed one another. Finally, the spirits 
 appear to the patient in visible form, endow him with 
 power, inspire and instruct him.^ In other words, they 
 fill him with their mana. 
 
 Here we have manifestly the wide-spread phenomena 
 of Possession. In these tribes there are no professional 
 priests. The magicians, though in a sense the inter- 
 mediaries between men and the higher powers, are not 
 charged with the duty of offering sacrifice and prayer. 
 In South Africa, among the Bantu tribes, also, there are 
 
 1 Arch. Rel., viii. 463, 467. Compare the account of the initiation by 
 the Devil of a Lapp wizard quoted from Tornseus, Scheffer, 136. 
 
 2 Jesup. Exped., vi. 47. 
 
io8 RITUAL AND BELIEF 
 
 no professional priests. Ancestor-worship is the religion ; 
 and the only worship paid is paid to the manes of the 
 dead. The proper person to offer sacrifices is the head 
 of the family for the time being. But medicine-men or 
 magicians forrn a regular profession, which is divided into 
 a number of branches. For some of these branches 
 initiation by the spirits of the dead is not necessary. For 
 others it is indispensable. Frequently, however, the same 
 man combines the practice of several branches of the art. 
 All who practise openly are recognized as White Wizards, 
 exercising their powers for the wellbeing of society, in 
 defence of the established order. Yet these very men 
 sometimes boast of being baloyi, a term, by which evil 
 wizards are generally known. They claim to be more 
 powerful than ordinary wizards, able to discover and 
 baffle their tricks, and to kill. Moreover, there are good 
 haloyi^ who use their power to bless. They are some- 
 times sent by ancestral spirits to increase the produce of 
 the fields, and then they are said to have bewitched the 
 fields to make them bring forth more fruit. Thus it is 
 clear that a hard and fast line cannot be drawn between 
 the social and the antisocial magicians, at least among some 
 of the Bantu tribes. One of the chief branches of the 
 profession is that of exorcist. Now no man can set up 
 as an exorcist without having been himself possessed by 
 the spirits and exorcised. This is indeed the regular 
 method of initiation, for a man is not merely restored to 
 ordinary life by exorcism ; he is also aggregated to the 
 society of magicians ; he enters a new life ; he becomes 
 a neophyte among the practitioners, and must undergo 
 further probation which may result in his becoming more 
 than an exorcist — he may become clairvoyant or a 
 diviner, a prophet or a worker of marvels ; he may cure 
 diseases or cause the rain to fall. Many practitioners 
 
RELATIONS OF RELIGION AND MAGIC 109 
 
 profess more than one of these accomplishments ; the 
 most distinguished profess several.^ 
 
 How far the phenomena of possession are voluntary 
 need not here be discussed. The Zulu or Xosa patient 
 (if we may call him so) becomes sickly and abstinent ; he 
 distinguishes himself by dreams and visions, and begins 
 to talk of his intercourse with spirits of the dead ; he 
 becomes " a house of dreams" ; he is hysterical ; he 
 sings ; he behaves as though he were out of his mind ; 
 he is possessed by an Itongo, an ancestral spirit. Then 
 he is admitted to the society of the magicians and receives 
 instruction from them. Finally, he is accounted a new 
 creature, whose intercourse with spirits and share in their 
 supernatural powers is recognized by everyone.^ 
 
 Among the Ngombe in the Northern Congo basin, we 
 are told, " the ghosts call [to the man] from the bowels of 
 the earth. He goes into the grave, underground, and 
 stays there four months. When the four months are 
 finished he comes forth, rubs himself with camwood and 
 dances, contorting his body," This seems to be the 
 neophyte's only preparation for the office of nganga. 
 After that, according to the same authority, " whenever 
 a man is sick he is carried by others to the nganga. They 
 accompany him to the man of ghosts. He looks at the 
 body, then recites to the spirit. They lift up the man 
 and go out. All the people dance, and he who is afflicted 
 with sickness is brought to the doctor for medicine." * 
 
 On the North American continent the medicine-man 
 was not "possessed," as among the Siberian tribes and 
 the Bantu ; but his mode of initiation was similar. The 
 
 ' Junod, 5. A. Tribe, ii. 450, 471, 473. M. Junod's work is concerned 
 with the Thonga, but it is true in general terms of other tribes. 
 
 ^ Merensky, 135 ; Shooter, 191 ; Callaway, Rel. Sysf., 259 sqq. 
 
 ^ Johnston, Grenfell, ii. 659 note, quoting Rev. W. H. Stapleton. He 
 is obviously reporting a statement by a native. 
 
no RITUAL AND BELIEF 
 
 Ojibway sorcerer after prolonged fasting was initiated 
 by the supernatural powers.^ Among many of the 
 Californian tribes "a spirit, be it that of an animal, a 
 place, the sun or other natural object, a deceased relative 
 or an entirely unembodied spirit, visits the future 
 medicine-man in his dreams, and the connection thus 
 established between them is the source and basis of the 
 latter's power. This spirit becomes his guardian spirit 
 or ' personal.' From it he receives the song or rite or 
 knowledge of the charm, and the understanding which 
 enable him to cause or remove disease, and to do and 
 endure what other men cannot." ^ The Skidi Pawnee is 
 allured to the abode of the mysterious animal-powers, 
 and there taught their knowledge and gifted with their 
 powers ; or he is visited by a supernatural being in 
 dreams for the same purpose.^ 
 
 Among the Sea Dyaks of Borneo " there are two 
 descriptions of manatigs [shamans], the regular and the 
 irregular. The regular are those who have been called 
 to that vocation by dreams, and to whom the spirits have 
 revealed themselves. The irregular are self-created and 
 without a familiar spirit." It is not enough for the 
 manang simply to say " that he feels himself called ; he 
 must prove to his friends that he is able to commune 
 with the spirits ; and in proof of this he will occasionally 
 abstain from food and indulge in trances, from which he 
 will awake with all the tokens of one possessed by a devil, 
 foaming at the mouth and talking incoherently."* One 
 of the ways to "get magic " among the Malays is to meet 
 the ghost of a murdered man. In order to do this a 
 
 1 Jones, Ojebway, 269. 
 
 2 A. L. Kroeber, Univ. Cal. Pub., iv. 328. 
 
 ^ G. A. Dorsey, Trad. Skidi Pawnee, 185, 189, 194, 199, 206, 210, 219, 
 221, 231. 
 
 * Roth, Sarawak, i. 266. 
 
RELATIONS OF RELIGION AND MAGIC iii 
 
 ceremony must be performed at the grave on a Tuesday 
 at full moon. The aspirant calls upon the deceased for 
 help, and states his request. Ultimately an aged man 
 appears, to whom the request is repeated ; and it would 
 seem that the suppliant gets what he wants.'^ 
 
 In Europe the dominant religion has proscribed witch- 
 craft with terrors spiritual and physical, which have 
 emphasized its separation and intensified its spiritual 
 aspect. The judicial records are full of stories of initia- 
 tion to the Black Art that begin by the formal renunciation 
 of Christian worship and baptism. The novice tramples 
 upon symbols of the Christian faith, or otherwise treats 
 them with indignity. He utters incantations with appro- 
 priate rites to call up the devil. That gendeman then 
 appears to receive his formal profession of allegiance, 
 admit him ceremonially into his band of worshippers, and 
 tutor him in the methods of his art. That the confessions 
 of this procedure were not wholly imaginary, and dictated 
 by the orthodox functionaries who examined the tortured 
 victim, is rendered probable from the fact that down to 
 the present day, in many continental countries, if not in 
 the British Islands, the peasant witch enters upon her 
 trade by a rite recalling its main features. 
 
 It would be easy to expand the list. Enough has, 
 however, been said to show that over a wide area of the 
 world and in the most various stages of civilization what 
 we call supernatural beings are concerned with the pre- 
 paration of the magician's career, and that the Arunta 
 beliefs do not differ in this respect from those current 
 among many other peoples. In none of the foregoing 
 cases does the shaman or magician as such exercise the 
 functions of priest. He ofFers no sacrifices, he addresses 
 no prayers on behalf of the community to the divinities. 
 ' Skeat, Magic, (so. 
 
112 RITUAL AND BELIEF 
 
 He performs wonders by the aid of the spirits ; but the 
 spirits who first invade and then help him are by no 
 means everywhere those who are the object of worship. 
 It is not my intention to discuss the psychological and 
 physiological aspects of the phenomena. They recall the 
 phenomena of " conversion " among ourselves. Occur- 
 ring, as they usually do, at or shortly after the commence- 
 ment of adult life, they display the effervescence of 
 puberty, accentuated by the neurotic peculiarities of the 
 individual, acted upon, directed and controlled by the 
 social environment. As in the case of " conversion," too, 
 they are liable to become epidemic, particularly at times 
 of social and political crisis, where feeling in the tribe is 
 more than commonly excited. 
 
 Before passing away from the subject we may turn to 
 a different type of shaman. Among the Veddas the 
 shaman is in effect the priest. The spirits to whom 
 offerings are made are those of the dead. It is the 
 shaman who makes the offering, and performs the in- 
 vocation ; and he is in return possessed by them. But 
 here the novice is chosen and trained by one who already 
 exercises the profession. He does not become possessed 
 in his capacity as novice. Possession only takes place at 
 the public ceremonies ; it is temporary ; and it may affect 
 others besides the shaman. The position of shaman is 
 practically hereditary, for the novice trained is usually the 
 shaman's son, or his sister's son, that is to say, his actual 
 or potential son-in-law. The Veddas are on a level of 
 civilization as low as the Arunta. Though they do not 
 practise rites of such senseless and revolting cruelty, in 
 their natural condition and apart from external influence 
 they live entirely by hunting and the collection of honey ; 
 they build no huts, but take advantage of caves and rock- 
 shelters ; their pottery is of the roughest description ; 
 
RELATIONS OF RELIGION AND MAGIC 113 
 
 and the iron arrowheads, axes and other implements 
 which they possess are obtained by barter from the 
 Sinhalese, for they do not exercise the art of smithying. 
 The lowest and wildest of them, however, know noth- 
 ing of hostile magic. Even protective magic is hardly 
 practised ; and the charms they make use of appear to 
 be derived from the neighbouring Sinhalese. It is true 
 they have traditions that it used to be customary to seek 
 strength and confidence to avenge insults by chewing a 
 small dried piece of the liver of a man who had been 
 killed for the purpose. This is an application of a well- 
 known magical principle.^ But, so far as our information 
 goes, it is a solitary case. If therefore the Vedda shaman 
 is not initiated by the spirits, it is not because the Veddas 
 have not yet passed out of the age of magic. If there be 
 an age of magic in which religion is unknown, for aught 
 that appears they have not yet passed into it. At all 
 events they cannot be said to confirm the generalization 
 that magic precedes religion ; for magical practices once 
 adopted persist with remarkable tenacity into the highest 
 planes of culture. 
 
 There is, finally, an example of a functionary occupying 
 an ambiguous position as priest or magician, at which 
 we may glance for a moment. The Mincopies of the 
 Andaman Islands, before the arrival of strangers in 
 modern times, were, like the Arunta, living in the Stone 
 Age. They had no agriculture ; their food was supplied 
 by the chase, or the search for insects, roots, and honey. 
 They had indeed learned to build huts ; and they had 
 the use of fire, but they were ignorant how to produce 
 it. They are divided into local tribes, ruled by elected 
 chiefs with very limited power. The chiefs acquire such 
 authority as they have by their skill in hunting and fish- 
 1 Seligmann, Veddas, 128 sqq., 190 sgq., 207. See supra, p. 59. 
 
114 RITUAL AND BELIEF 
 
 ing and their reputation for generosity and hospitality ; 
 and it is on these qualifications that social status mainly 
 depends. Social and political organization is therefore, 
 as well as religion, in a somewhat rudimentary stage. 
 Nor is magic more advanced than religion. The only 
 persons who exercise any magical or religious functions 
 are called by the title of oko-paiad, or Dreamer. Such a 
 man obtains his position by relating an extraordinary 
 dream foreshadowing some future event, which after- 
 wards happens. Since these practitioners are credited 
 with the power of communicating in dreams with the 
 spirits, it may be presumed that the initial dream is in the 
 nature of a " call " by them. The oko-paiad does not 
 seem to be subject to possession by the spirits ; but 
 he is believed to have powers of second sight and a 
 mysterious influence over the fortunes and lives of his 
 neighbours. He is therefore the constant recipient of 
 presents, which are in efFect bribes for his favour. Our 
 information concerning his proceedings is of the scantiest 
 description. It does not extend to any active attempt 
 at magical interference with the fate or the actions of 
 others. Perhaps we may conclude that any interference 
 he may be held to exercise is confined to his intercourse 
 in dreams with the spirits. However this may be, his 
 only recorded overt acts are on the occurrence of an 
 epidemic, when " he brandishes a burning log, and bids 
 the evil spirit keep at a distance." Sometimes as a 
 further precaution he plants stakes in front of each hut, 
 and smears them in stripes with black beeswax, the smell 
 of which, being peculiarly oiFensive to the demon, ensures 
 his speedy departure.^ If any inference can be drawn 
 from this account it hardly seems to favour the priority 
 of the evolution of magic over religion ; for the oko-paiad, 
 1 E. H, Man,/. A I., xii. 96. 
 
RELATIONS OF RELIGION AND MAGIC 115 
 
 if not initiated by the spirits, is essentially one who is in 
 communication with them, and who exercises his powers 
 not merely against individuals (of which there is no direct 
 evidence), but in favour of them and of the community. 
 
 The conclusion is that there is no solid and convincing 
 proof of the development of magic prior to religion. If 
 the Mincopies, the Veddas, and the tribes of Central 
 Australia fail us, whither shall we turn for evidence ? 
 
 Yet there is a consideration generally applicable to savage 
 life that must not be overlooked here. Vague, uncertain, 
 and contradictory as the savage may be in his beliefs, 
 sluggish as his mind may be in regard to matters of 
 speculation, — in matters of practical importance, the 
 provision of food and shelter, the protection of his 
 women and children, and the defence of his little 
 community against aggression by human foes or the 
 wild beasts, he is bound to be on the alert and to act. 
 His wits are therefore sharpened for action. Action is 
 natural to him ; thought which has no immediate 
 objective in action is strange. The energies remaining 
 when the body is satisfied with food, when shelter is 
 assured, and hostilities against his fellow-man or the 
 lower animals are for the moment forgotten, must be 
 expended in other kinds of action. Bodily recreation — 
 play — satisfies this craving for movement and excitement, 
 while at the same time it fulfils the useful purpose (albeit 
 unconsciously to him) of keeping his faculties, bodily and 
 mental, ready and supple, and of training them still 
 further for more directly practical ends. This form of 
 activity, organized into dances and games, easily begets 
 ritual. The Hottentots danced all night at full moon 
 with extravagant gestures, saluting the moon and invok- 
 ing her for cattle-fodder and milk.^ The Wichita of 
 
 ' Kolben, 97. 
 
ii6 RITUAL AND BELIEF 
 
 North America played every year in the spring a game 
 of shinny, which represented, there can be little doubt, 
 the contest of winter and spring.^ In such cases as these, 
 and they are legion, a recreation has been indulged in 
 at a period appropriate for it — the dance in the clear, 
 cool night, the game under the mild returning warmth 
 and stimulating influences of the early spring. Because 
 it thus naturally recurs at definite times it comes to 
 be regarded as proper, even necessary : it develops into 
 a rite. To a similar game played by the Omaha was 
 attached, in the phrase of the writers who describe it, 
 " a cosmic significance." ^ The impulse to movement, 
 to exertion, liberates emotion ; the emotion is in turn 
 intensified by its collective expression ; and this intensifica- 
 tion would lead to the conviction that the expression has 
 somehow or other in itself an influence on external 
 nature, just as it would have in human relations. The 
 .exact mechanism by which it acted probably would not 
 trouble the savage at an early stage. Later, it would be 
 fitted into the framework of his ideas. The Hottentot 
 rite came to be addressed to the moon. The Wichita rite 
 seems to have been thought to assist directly in conquest 
 of the evil power of winter and the renewal of life. 
 
 But we may go further back still. I have referred to 
 the make-believe that is a relief to overcharged feelings. 
 Emotional stress is felt at times by everybody, be he 
 savage or civilized. It causes a reaction, more or less 
 powerful in proportion to the magnitude of the cause 
 or the excitability of the person who undergoes it. It 
 is expressed in acts sometimes of the wildest extravagance, 
 sometimes rhythmic and partially controlled. These acts 
 are spontaneous, automatic. Recurrence of the emotional 
 stress would tend to be accompanied by repetition of the 
 
 1 Dorsey, Wichita, 99. ^ R. B. E., xxvii. 197. 
 
RELATIONS OF RELIGION AND MAGIC 117 
 
 acts in which the reaction had been previously expressed. 
 If the recurrence were sufficiently frequent, the form 
 of the reaction would become a habit to be repeated on 
 similar occasions, even where the stress was less vivid 
 or almost absent. It can hardly be doubted that many 
 rites owe their existence to such reactions. The Pawnees, 
 like the Wichita, a tribe belonging to the Caddoan stock 
 of North America, summoned with song and dance and 
 other elaborate rites the bufFaloes which were the main- 
 stay of their existence. Everything depended — sustenance, 
 provision of clothing and tents and all other necessaries, 
 hence the very continuance of the tribal life — on the 
 bufFaloes. Their movements about the great central 
 plains of the continent were mysterious. The true 
 causes were unknown ; the course was not predicable 
 with certainty. Accordingly, the period of expectation 
 while the people were awaiting the advent of the herd 
 was one of great emotional tension. It was relieved by 
 a series of acts, originally automatic, or quasi-automatic, 
 which would gradually assume more and more definitely 
 the calling and enticement of the expected herd. This 
 form of reaction to the particular stress would become 
 habitual. It would end as a solemn rite, which was 
 believed to have a powerful influence in bringing the 
 animals and effecting a satisfactory capture. The orenda 
 of the performers, expressed in the manner consecrated 
 by tradition, would then be held to exercise a compelling 
 power.^ 
 
 To such an origin must be ascribed the rehearsal of 
 a battle that takes place in many savage tribes before 
 
 1 There appears to be no detailed account of the Buffalo Dance of the 
 Pawnees. See Dorsey, Skidi Pawnees, xxi. 46 ; Grinnell, 369. The 
 latest stage, perhaps contaminated with European notions, is in part 
 described. Id., 270. 
 
ii8 RITUAL AND BELIEF 
 
 the warriors go forth on a raid, and the dances and other 
 ceremonies accomplished by women left at home when 
 their husbands are absent fighting or hunting. More 
 obviously must it be held responsible for a variety of 
 other performances, of which the common spell in this 
 country and on the continent of Europe, to recover an 
 article stolen or the waning affections of a lover, is a 
 type. The love-lorn maiden takes some object, frequently 
 a shoulder-bone of lamb, and sticks a knife or a pin into 
 it, saying : 
 
 " 'Tis not this bone I mean to stick. 
 But my lover's heart I mean to prick, 
 Wishing him neither rest nor sleep 
 Till he comes with me to speak." 
 
 Of spells like this the preparation of an efifigy, and the 
 assaults upon it representing acts done to the person for 
 whom the effigy stands, are an elaboration. The over- 
 charged emotion first of all finds a vent in an attack 
 upon any convenient object. Then from various causes 
 a special object is singled out as the appropriate vehicle 
 of the performer's wrath, hatred or jealousy, the act 
 gradually becomes more solemn and deliberate, and a 
 formal rite is evolved. 
 
 It should hardly be necessary to say that it is not 
 claimed that the foregoing paragraphs explain the genesis 
 of all rites. But that many do thus originate accords 
 with all we know of human nature. In any case a rite 
 was not instituted because men were previously convinced 
 of its efficacy. The primitive savage may have been a man 
 of preternatural stupidity ; but even he would not have 
 been equal to putting the cart before the horse in that 
 fashion. The rite must have been an established habit 
 before a conscious meaning filtered into it. Interpreta- 
 tion would be a gradual process. If the rite were shared 
 
RELATIONS OF RELIGION AND MAGIC 119 
 
 by the social group, and by expansion or accretion 
 attained sufficient importance, the interpretation might 
 take the form of a myth. The myth in turn would 
 contribute to the stability of the rite, by means of the 
 sacred character it would affix to it, or the reminiscence 
 of an ancient experience it would be supposed to 
 embody. 
 
 Thus ritual, religious or magical, is evolved long 
 before belief has become definite and cogent. It may 
 emerge from what I may style the mere surface of human 
 nature, from necessities mainly physical, from direct 
 nervous reaction. It may, on the other hand, have roots 
 in the social relations of mankind. The savage naturally, 
 habitually — I might almost say instinctively — applies the 
 forms of social life to his relations with his non-human 
 surroundings. Presumably, as we have seen, primitive 
 man in his rough way did likewise. 
 
 But this affiards no argument for holding that magic 
 preceded religion. Rites are not necessarily magical 
 because they are not addressed to defined personalities. 
 They may be yet inchoate. Not until reflection has 
 begun to clarify in some degree man's relation to his 
 environment (a slow and tedious process, slowest and 
 most tedious of all in the early stages) can we reckon 
 them satisfactorily under the one head or the other. If 
 I am right in contending that magic and religion flow 
 from a common source, rites may remain for generations 
 in an indecisive condition which is neither, but may 
 crystallize in either shape according to the specific occa- 
 sion, the environment, or the dominant mental and 
 institutional tendency of the social group. Such a 
 transformation wiU be gradual and piecemeal, and in 
 large part, if not entirely, unconscious. Many things 
 done "for luck," even in the higher civilizations, are 
 
I20 RITUAL AND BELIEF 
 
 still in this indeterminate state. The intellectual 
 atmosphere is unfavourable ; their development is 
 arrested, probably for ever. I suspect that an accurate 
 appreciation of the Intichiuma rites practised by the 
 Arunta and their neighbours would show that they too 
 are not finally to be assigned to either category. 
 
 The part played by society in the generation of religion 
 demands some further observations. From whatever type 
 of anthropoid ape man has been evolved, it is safe to 
 believe that he has from the first lived in communities. 
 But for this he could have made no progress, if even he 
 could have existed as man. The condition of the solitary 
 apes is incapable of improvement. It is incredible that 
 if rudimentary human beings had lived like them in a 
 group consisting at the utmost of a male, female, and still 
 dependent young, they would ever have emerged into 
 humanity, or that if they had emerged they would have 
 been able to hold their own against the foes that 
 surrounded them. The lowest human beings are never 
 found solitary. If they wander on the food-quest, or 
 are driven away from higher and more powerful societies, 
 they do not fail to come together at certain times to 
 enjoy the companionship of their fellows, to exchange 
 experiences, to plan hunts or raids, to perform rites in 
 common and partake of common pleasures. This implies 
 organization. In fact^ such communities, when they 
 meet and live the communal life, are not found to be a 
 mere incoherent congeries of individuals. They are true 
 societies, organized, some more, some less closely, on 
 a definite plan, in which every individual has his place. 
 The Australian natives have evolved social institutions 
 of proverbial complexity. The Bushmen of South Africa, 
 persecuted and broken by intrusive races, have left us 
 on the walls of the caverns they haunted representations 
 
RELATIONS OF RELIGION AND MAGIC 121 
 
 marvellous in their skill of ceremonies apparently totemic. 
 And if this interpretation of the drawings be doubtful, 
 such remains as have been preserved of their traditions 
 afford evidence of an organization by no means con- 
 temptible. The Seri of the Californian Gulf, perhaps on 
 a still lower plane of civilization, and certainly leading 
 their life in more miserable surroundings, are divided into 
 clans and furnished with a social hierarchy built up on a 
 reverence for women almost chivalrous in its type.^ 
 
 The existence everywhere of organized societies implies 
 the paramount influence of the community over the 
 individual. Nor is that influence only a matter of 
 implication. Abundant evidence is found of the control 
 wielded by society over the actions and the very thoughts 
 of its members. The individual is nothing : the group 
 is everything. As Professor Durkheim remarks, every 
 society exercises power over its members, power physical 
 and above all moral. It keeps them in a sensation of 
 perpetual dependence. It is distinct from the individuals 
 who compose it, and consequently its interests are distinct 
 from theirs. But as it cannot attain its ends except 
 through and by means of the individual, it makes an 
 imperious claim on his assistance, exacting it even to the 
 sacrifice of his inclinations and interests. Thus at every 
 moment we are obliged to submit to rules of conduct and 
 of thought which we have neither made nor wished to 
 make, and which may even be contrary to our most 
 fundamental instincts.^ 
 
 In these days and among civilized societies, when 
 individualism is so strongly developed in thought and 
 action, we are apt to forget to what an extent religion 
 is an expression of the social organization. An eminent 
 
 1 W. J. M'Gee, R. B. E., xvii. i68* j^^. 
 
 2 Durkheim, 295. 
 
122 RITUAL AND BELIEF 
 
 Oxford professor, not long ago deceased, used to say- 
 that religion was a social secretion. That may be an 
 excellent way to phrase the relations between society and 
 religion in modern Europe. It is a very incomplete 
 account of them as they exist on the Australian steppe 
 or in the forests of Brazil. In the lower culture religion 
 is much more than a social secretion : it is one aspect 
 of the social organization, inseparable from the rest. 
 The organization cannot be understood without it — 
 nay, it cannot exist apart from it. In these societies 
 every member has his position and takes his share in 
 religious rites. Whatever his place in the social scale, 
 he is on the same level of knowledge, he shares in the 
 same beliefs, with his fellows. The mental atmosphere 
 of each is charged with the same electric fluid, which 
 communicates itself to all alike. Especially on the 
 occasions of reunion its action is intensified, frequently 
 resulting in excitement, in vehement exaltation, translated 
 into the wildest and most extravagant actions. But these 
 reunions are not merely social, they are religious festivals. 
 For religion pervades every thought and deed both of 
 the individual and of the community. It binds the 
 members together as no other force could do. The 
 power of society over the individual is the power of 
 religion. For religion is not as yet distinguished from 
 politics, from law, from medicine, or from other forms 
 of social activity that in our stage of culture have long 
 vindicated their freedom. 
 
 Religion has therefore grown up with society. Its 
 form has changed with the changing forms of society. 
 It cannot be said to be generated by society, inasmuch 
 as it is coeval with it. The very mould in which a 
 society in the lower stages of culture is cast is religious. 
 Church and State are of necessity coterminous, equivalent, 
 
RELATIONS OF RELIGION AND MAGIC 123 
 
 one. But this evolution must of necessity have taken 
 time. The inchoate society of half-human beings would 
 have had a correspondingly vague and inchoate religion. 
 As intelligence grew, the bonds of the horde would 
 gather strength, what we may call public opinion would 
 become more and more definite with the gradual 
 acquisition of speech, until at last man emerged in 
 something like a regularly ordered community. It is 
 difficult for us to imagine the steps of this long process, 
 by which, with society, what we call religion was evolved. 
 I have tried in an earlier chapter to sketch the external 
 conditions that would have impressed humanity in its 
 dawn. These external conditions would have driven 
 the individual more and more in upon the group, and 
 thus would have materially contributed to the conscious 
 formation of common interests founded upon the common 
 need of material help, of sympathy, and of relief from 
 anxiety and terror, whether of actual or imagined danger. 
 The formation of common interests must have been 
 accompanied by the increasing subordination of the 
 individual to the group. In the extension of the 
 authority of the group over the individual it is that M. 
 Durkheim finds the origin of the idea of the impersonal 
 force which the Omaha caU wakonda. The idea, as I 
 have shown, lies at the root of the religious conceptions 
 of peoples in more than one vast cultural area. That 
 such authority of the group, necessarily impersonal as it 
 is, would operate to strengthen the concept of a general 
 impersonal force, when once that concept had been 
 formed, there can be no question. To ascribe to it 
 the origin of the concept, however, seems to me an 
 unwarranted inference. It is more probable that the 
 conflict of the Personal and the Impersonal should arise 
 in the awakening mind as the result of its outlook upon 
 
124 RITUAL AND BELIEF 
 
 the world. The whole environment does not present 
 a personal aspect at once. As personalities grow into 
 relative definiteness one after another, there remains behind 
 them the Unknown, full of vague possibilities, impersonal, 
 but the source of personalities, which are for ever 
 looming forth as the attention is concentrated on 
 successive objects. Since it is the source of personalities, 
 it is the source of power, mysterious and far-reaching, 
 everywhere enveloping the beholder. It is true this 
 power, in order to become effectual, must clothe itself with 
 personal attributes. That, however, is not because it is 
 formed on experience of the authority of the group 
 acting by individuals, but because personalization is the 
 inevitable tendency of the mind. 
 
 Professor Durkheim's theory of religion Is exhibited 
 In detail only In one type. He speaks of " the aptitude 
 of society to erect itself Into a god or to create gods " ; ^ 
 but he Illustrates his thesis only in the case of totemism, 
 which he takes as an example of the religion of the least 
 advanced people hitherto thoroughly examined. He Is 
 careful to say that the question whether totemism has been 
 more or less widespread is of secondary Importance ; It is 
 at aU events the most primitive and the simplest religion 
 It Is possible to reach.^ But his whole argument, if It 
 prove anything, goes to show the universality of totemism. 
 For the idea of the soul, according to the data of 
 ethnography, appears to him to have been coeval with 
 humanity, and that not merely in germ but In all Its 
 essential characters ; and the soul Is nothing else than 
 the totemic principle Incarnated In each individual, a 
 portion of the collective soul of the group, that Is to say 
 of the totem, individualized.' Now totemism Is certainly 
 a very archaic form of religion. That it was universal 
 
 1 Durkheim, 305. 2 /^^-^^ j^^ j^j^ 3 /^^-^^^ 34^, 355, 378. 
 
RELATIONS OF RELIGION AND MAGIC 125 
 
 is, however, very far from being demonstrated. It may 
 well be that many branches of the human race have out- 
 grown it, and that its traces have been obliterated. But 
 among peoples very low down in culture there are many 
 where it is unknown, or at least unrecognizable. It is 
 more than possible, could we ascertain the facts, that 
 Bushman society was organized on the basis of totemism. 
 But there are other tribes no higher than Bushmen and 
 Australian Blackfellows where we fail to discern it. The 
 Veddas of Ceylon are indeed divided into clans with 
 female descent. Yet no totem has emerged after the 
 most careful enquiries. Their religion is essentially a 
 cult of the dead, based on fear. The dead man is 
 addressed as " Lord ! New Driver-away of Vaeddas ! " 
 Sacrifices are offered and eaten as an act of communion 
 with the deceased. In addition to the dead of the local 
 group, " certain long-dead Veddas who may be regarded 
 as legendary heroes " are invoked, of whom the most 
 important are Kande Yaka, an ancient hunter whose 
 assistance is implored for good hunting, and his brother 
 Bilindi Yaka, a sort of pale double of himself. But they 
 are not known among all the Vedda communities, though 
 Kande is regarded by some as Lord or leader of the dead. 
 There are also other spirits, who appear to be of foreign 
 origin and superimposed upon the original cult of the 
 dead, and are perhaps on their way to become nature- 
 spirits.'^ The religion of the Andaman Islanders " consists 
 of fear of the evil spirits of the wood, the sea, disease 
 and ancestors, and of avoidance of acts traditionally dis- 
 pleasing to them." There is besides an anthropomorphic 
 being, Puluga, who is said to be " the cause of all things." 
 He receives no active worship, though acts thought to 
 be displeasing to him are avoided " for fear of damage to 
 
 1 Seligmann, 30, 126, 130, 170 sqq., 149. 
 
126 RITUAL AND BELIEF 
 
 the products of the jungle." There is some evidence 
 that he is the north-east wind ; and Sir R, C. Temple is 
 of opinion that he is " fundamentally, with some definite- 
 ness, identifiable with the storm, mixed up with ancestral 
 chiefs." He acts by his daughters, the Morowin, who 
 are his messengers ; but he seems to content himself 
 with pointing out to the evil spirits offenders against 
 himself, without actually taking steps against them.^ 
 Totemism is nowhere hinted at by the enquirers who 
 have busied themselves with this childlike, and on the 
 whole harmless, but somewhat capricious people. 
 
 Still very low in the scale of civilization, though 
 somewhat higher than these, are the tribes of the interior 
 forests of Brazil. They people their environment with 
 imaginary beings more or less hostile. The object of 
 their ceremonies appears to be to conciliate the favour 
 of these gentry, or to hold them at arm's length. When 
 once the death-rites are completed litde account is taken 
 of the departed. So much we may gather from the 
 reports of two German expeditions, written by dis- 
 tinguished scientific men who led the expeditions. 
 Although they penetrated different parts of the country, 
 there was a general resemblance between the civilization 
 of the Indians met with by both explorers. A French 
 anthropologist has remarked that English and German 
 observers do not interest themselves to the same degree, 
 or in the same way, in the social life of peoples in the 
 lower culture ; for whereas the German explorers by 
 preference describe, and that with praiseworthy minute- 
 ness, the nature of the country and the material civilization 
 of the people, the English, on the other hand, interest 
 themselves more in the intellectual products, the traditions 
 and beliefs. In other words, he said, the German is 
 1 Cens. Ind. Rep., 1901, iii. 62. Cf. the papers by E. H. Man,/. A. I., xii. 
 
RELATIONS OF RELIGION AND MAGIC 127 
 
 more of an ethnographer, the Englishman more of a 
 student of folklore and psychologist. There is perhaps 
 a measure of truth in this remark. It may go far to 
 explain why more distinct and definite accounts have not 
 been given either by Professor Karl von den Steinen or 
 Dr Theodor Koch-Griinberg of the religions of the 
 aboriginal tribes of Brazil. In any case, we miss much 
 that we should have expected to find in their reports 
 on the religious beliefs and ceremonies of these tribes. 
 Among the omissions is that of any mention of totemism 
 — an institution which concerns organization and govern- 
 ment as much as religion. What renders the omission 
 significant in the case of Professor von den Steinen, and 
 not merely the result of want of interest in the subject, is 
 that he has taken pains to ascertain and record the attitude 
 of the natives towards the lower animals. He makes it 
 clear that they draw no strict line of demarcation between 
 man and brute. Nay, he goes the length of saying that 
 we must think the boundary completely away. Human 
 beings are indebted to the lower animals for the most 
 important elements of their culture, many of which they 
 have acquired from them by force or guile. More than 
 that, the Boror6 claim to be actually araras (a kind of 
 bird with brilliant red plumage) ; their neighbours the 
 Trumai are believed to be water-animals ; a certain 
 cannibal tribe is descended from the jaguar ; and so forth. 
 These beliefs are not totemic, for they concern not clans 
 but whole tribes.^ Apparently, therefore, there is no 
 totemism among the wild forest-tribes investigated. 
 
 If the concept of the soul (which, it is needless to say, 
 
 all these peoples possess) were coeval with humanity, and 
 
 if it were only the totemic principle individualized, then 
 
 totemism must have been coeval with humanity, and it 
 
 1 Koch-Griinberg, /aj«/» ; von den Si^m&n, passim, especially 350 j^^. 
 
128 RITUAL AND BELIEF 
 
 must have been universal. If so, it is at least curious 
 that the Veddas, the Andaman Islanders, and the forest- 
 tribes of Brazil — all of them on the horizon of civihza- 
 tion on which totemism is found — should display no 
 traces of it. If the concept of impersonal force, the 
 substratum of religious and magical beliefs, be derived 
 from the authority of society over the individual, and 
 not merely strengthened and developed by it, it is odd 
 that religious and magical beliefs should, so low down 
 in culture, have issued in such widely divergent forms. 
 The worship of the dead, the conciliation of hostile 
 nature-spirits, the fear of an anthropomorphic being of 
 enormous power, are all explicable as the result of the 
 action of external conditions on human mentality and 
 emotions. They are not explicable as the direct product 
 of the authority of the group over the individual. And 
 if totemism had originally held sway over the Veddas, 
 the Mincopies and the Brazilian tribes, it is not easy 
 to conceive how it could have evolved in directions so 
 diverse, — and that without leaving any authentic witness 
 to its past. It is quite another thing if the action of the 
 group had been rather to combine and consolidate, to 
 intensify and to organize the sensations and emotions 
 awakened in its members by external nature, to give 
 them a measure of definiteness in the process, and to 
 habituate the individual to certain modes of reaction to 
 the sensations, and to certain forms of expression of the 
 beliefs engendered by the emotions thus awakened. 
 
 IV. Divergence 
 
 In the foregoing pages I have attempted to trace 
 Magic and Religion to a common root. We have found 
 them inextricably intertwined very low down in culture ; 
 
RELATIONS OF RELIGION AND MAGIC 129 
 
 we have seen the difficulty of distinguishing them by 
 way of scientific definition, and have been forced back 
 upon ordinary usage. Both alike are concerned with the 
 supernatural and the uncanny ; but the one deals with it 
 by compulsion, by the direct exertion of human orenda 
 upon the objects sought to be constrained, the other by 
 the indirect method of appeal to mightier powers than 
 human to exercise their orenda upon those objects, in 
 order to obtain the result desired. And I have contended 
 that the opposition of Magic and Religion, on which 
 writers of authority like Professor Frazer and the late 
 Sir Alfred Lyall have so much insisted, is so far from 
 being essential that it is a result of their concurrent 
 development and of the general advance of civilization, 
 and is even yet imperfectly accomplished. The argument 
 seems to require some further illustrations. 
 
 First, let me observe that the definition of magic here 
 adopted does by no means coincide with that of Professor 
 Frazer, though, like his, it rests upon the method of 
 compulsion as the distinguishing characteristic. That, 
 however, is not because of any faith by primeval man in 
 the invariable order of nature or in the inevitable sequence 
 of cause and effect. The compulsion of magic, as I 
 understand it, is wielded by, and dependent upon, the 
 personal orenda oi the magician, either directly or through 
 the medium of the powerful and uncanny beings whom 
 he succeeds in bringing into play. 
 
 The idea of a god in our minds is associated with a 
 reverential attitude that is very far from being universally 
 adopted. In a later essay we shall see that threats of 
 bodily injury, even (in the legends) actual hand-to-hand 
 combats, and (in fact) chastisement of the material 
 representatives of divinity, are often regarded as quite 
 appropriate measures to be taken in dealing with beings 
 
 9 
 
I30 RITUAL AND BELIEF 
 
 who are ordinarily the objects of worship. I have 
 already referred to the constraining power attributed to 
 sacrifice and other rites in some of the more advanced 
 religions. Where ritual has undergone a long term of 
 development, where it has been subjected for many ages 
 to continuous thought, and to elaboration in order to 
 provide for new needs or against unforeseen contingencies, 
 there it is apt to acquire a proportionate value of its own, 
 independent of the merits of the performer. The sacrifice 
 which is a gift to the gods imperiously demands its 
 looked-for repayment, and will not be denied. The 
 penance, whether it be in the nature of a sacrifice or a 
 speU, carries with it, like the Hindu rite of dharna, an 
 implied curse if not responded to. In either case the 
 deity to whom it is directed has no choice but to comply. 
 
 The constraining influence may take a variety of forms, 
 and is by no means confined to one plane of civilization, 
 or to one cultural area. Sometimes it is expressed in 
 knots to which is widely attributed what we call magical 
 power. In Morocco, where civilization has rather 
 deteriorated than progressed for many ages, the cult of 
 the dead is largely prevalent. Professor Westermarck 
 records that a Berber servant of his told him that once 
 when in prison he invoked a certain great female saint 
 whose tomb was in a neighbouring district, and tied his 
 turban, saying : " I am tying thee, Lalla Rah'ma Yusf, 
 and I am not going to open the knot till thou hast helped 
 me." And a person in distress will sometimes go to her 
 grave and knot the leaves of some palmetto growing in 
 its vicinity, with the words : " I tied thee here, O saint, 
 and I shall not release thee unless thou releasest me from 
 the toils in which I am at present." ^ 
 
 This perhaps also is, as Professor Westermarck suggests, 
 
 ' Westermarck, Moral Ideas, ii. 585. 
 
RELATIONS OF RELIGION AND MAGIC 131 
 
 a conditional curse. Now a curse, like other magical 
 proceedings before referred to, is primarily a relief of 
 overcharged feelings. Uttered with all the strength of 
 those feelings by an aggrieved or baffled adversary, it 
 evokes even in our breasts to-day shuddering and horror. 
 Much more then in days when the man's orenda was 
 deemed to go out in speech with immediate result upon 
 the object to which he directed it. When gods came to 
 be adopted and worshipped, strength was added to the 
 curse by invocation of the god. The god's name added 
 to the curse was an addition of the god himself. For the 
 name is a part, and an important part, of the god, and 
 cannot be used without effect. The god is bound to 
 respond to it, and to act in accordance with the votary's 
 demand. For this reason the real names of gods were 
 kept secret. Mystery thus attached to the name of the 
 God of the Hebrews : hence the express prohibition to 
 " take the name of the Lord thy God in vain." Almost 
 all over the world this belief in efficacy of the uttered 
 name as a means of compulsion is responsible not merely 
 for taboos on the names of gods, and of men living 
 or dead, but also for the form and potency of magical 
 formulae. If you know the name of a spirit and utter it, 
 or sometimes even threaten to utter it, you compel the 
 owner's attention to your wants. Or you may pretend 
 to be some great personage, such as (wherever the 
 Mohammedan tradition has penetrated) King Solomon or 
 the angel Gabriel ; and in that name you may issue your 
 commands. Or, as among Christians, you call for the 
 obedience of a spirit in the great name of God or the 
 Lord Jesus Christ. In India to repeat the divine name 
 aloud, or even by way of meditation, " is the most usual 
 way of acquiring religious merit. ... So much import- 
 ance is given to this mode of meditation that Tulsidas in 
 
132 RITUAL AND BELIEF 
 
 his Ramayan lays down that the name of Rama is greater 
 than Rama himself." In other words, its utterance 
 compels him, " It is said of a certain Hindu who had 
 notoriously lived a life of impiety that he obtained 
 salvation by calling on his deathbed for his son by his 
 name, which happened to be N^rdyan."^ The name 
 N^riyan is sacred. It was originally a title of Brahm^, 
 but is now usually applied to Vishnu, and is that under 
 which he was first worshipped." 
 
 The curse, if curse it were, involved in the rite practised 
 by Professor Westermarck's servant was not of the kind 
 dependent on the utterance of a name. It was rather 
 of that in which the curse is conveyed by a sign or 
 figure deriving its power from the orenda of the magician 
 himself. I have already referred to one species of such 
 curses intended for the protection of property by marking 
 it as taboo to the owner.* In this form they are chiefly 
 used by the Malayo-Polynesian and Melanesian peoples 
 and on the eastern side of Central Africa, though they 
 have their analogues elsewhere.* The leaden tablets of 
 defixiones employed by the ancient Greeks, of which 
 numerous examples are known, show a similar practice 
 founded on similar ideas. The tablet is inscribed with 
 the name of the person intended to be injured, and it is 
 then "defixed," or bound, with a nail. The ceremony 
 was doubtless accompanied by some words expressive of 
 the intention. Indeed the expression of the intention was 
 in course of time recorded on the tablet. A further stage 
 in development was reached when the gods were invoked, 
 
 1 Marten, Ind. Cetis. Rep., 191 1, x. 80. 
 
 2 Laws of Manu, Sac. Bks., xxv. 5. I am indebted for this reference 
 and the further explanation above to my friend Mr William Crooke. 
 
 2 Supra, p. 62. 
 
 < Dr Frazer, Psyches Task, 25 sqq., has made a collection of these 
 rites and signs. See also Westermarck, Moral Ideas, ii. 63 sqq. 
 
RELATIONS OF RELIGION AND MAGIC 133 
 
 beginning with Hermes and Ge, and going on to other 
 chthonic divinities. Later, apparently towards the end of 
 the third century b.c, the custom began of devoting to 
 various gods lost property and the thief who had stolen 
 it. Such tablets affixed to the walls of temples doubtless 
 served the purpose of our advertisements for the recovery 
 of losf or stolen property. The difference is that, whereas 
 we offer material rewards, the Greeks invoked the help of 
 the gods and threatened the thief or receiver with super- 
 natural vengeance.'' The use of defixiones spread into 
 Italy, and has lasted into quite modern times, or, it may 
 be truer to say, was revived under the influence of learned 
 men who at the close of the Middle Ages became imbued 
 with the astrology and magic of earlier days. One of 
 these learned men, Cornelius Agrippa of Nettesheim, who 
 attained high judicial office under the Emperor Charles 
 the Fifth, but afterwards got into trouble for his occidt 
 studies, wrote a book on Occult Philosophy, which was 
 translated into English in the middle of the seventeenth 
 century. At that time the study of magic was falling 
 into disrepute. Agrippa's book was left to charlatans who 
 preyed upon the ignorant. Some of the results have 
 been found up and down the country in the form of 
 leaden tablets inscribed with curses, mystical numbers 
 and signs, names of the spirits invoked to make the 
 curses effectual and of the victims against whom the 
 curses were intended to operate.^ In these modern cases 
 
 1 F. B. Jevons, Oxford Cong. Rep., ii. 131 ; Id., Graeco-Italian Magic, 
 Anthrop. Class., 106. See also Rouse, Greek V. O., ■^2,7- 
 
 2 I described one such leaden tablet, found at Dymock, Gloucestershire, 
 in Reliquary, N.S., iii. 140. Another was subsequently found at Lincoln's 
 Inn, and reported on by Mr W. Paley Baildon to the Society of Antiquaries 
 {Proc. Soc. Anti., 2nd ser., xviii. 141). Others have also been found else- 
 where, among them two on Gatherley Moor in Yorkshire. If the identifica- 
 tion of the persons against whom the tablets on Gatherley Moor and at 
 Lincoln's Inn were directed be conclusively established, they antedate by 
 
134 RITUAL AND BELIEF 
 
 the powers appealed to are no longer beings recognized 
 by the dominant religion. They are relics of religions 
 passed away, or figments of the pedantic imagination. 
 Magic, in short, has for purposes of private vengeance 
 been ousted from religion and has set up for itself. 
 
 At any rate the Moroccan rite involves a threat ; and 
 a threat is near akin to a curse. Much may be done 
 with gods, as with men, by means of a little judicious 
 blufF. A certain Malay robber kept six tame spirits, to 
 whom he made an oiFering from time to time. When he 
 did so he called them by name, bidding them : " Come 
 here ! Eat my offering ! Take you care that my body 
 is not affected, that the flow of my blood is not stayed ! 
 Likewise with the bodies of my wife and children. (If 
 not) I'll turn the earth and the sky the wrong way 
 round ! " He was fully convinced of the power of these 
 spirits and apparendy of the value of his terrible threat, 
 though, as Mr Annandale, who reports the case, points 
 out, the spirits had been unable to save him from being 
 convicted and imprisoned for his crimes.^ 
 
 In ancient Egypt magic was practised in connection 
 with religion from prehistoric times. Magic and religion 
 " were two products of one and the same Weltanschauung, 
 not disparate either in their methods or in their psycho- 
 logical basis. Nor were they differently estimated from 
 the ethical point of view : magic was deemed permissible, 
 so long as it was turned to no evil purpose. It follows 
 that the classification of Egyptian superstitious practices 
 as (a) religious, {b) magical, must be a purely external 
 mode of classification : the distinction between religion 
 
 more than half a century the translation above referred to of Agrippa's 
 book. This of course is by no means impossible, or indeed improbable, 
 for the practitioners of occult science in the reign of Queen Elizabeth were 
 frequently men of learning. 
 ^ Fasc. Malay, ii. 41. 
 
RELATIONS OF RELIGION AND MAGIC 135 
 
 and magic in Egypt has not, and cannot be made to have, 
 any deeper significance." ^ The scholar from whom I 
 quote these words, so far from exaggerating the close 
 relationship between magic and religion, may be said to 
 understate it. Magic was an integral part of religion. 
 The priests of the gods were magicians. Magic was 
 employed in the ritual of worship. It enabled the great 
 god Ra to overcome the serpent Apep.^ Magical 
 ceremonies performed by the priests over the mummy, 
 or over a statuette representing the deceased, were the 
 means by which his success in passing the necessary tests 
 and his lasting happiness after death were secured. The 
 means employed were those universally known to magic : 
 amulets, waxen and other figures, pictures, spells and 
 words of power, the knowledge of names, rites imitating 
 the results desired, and so forth. Concerning the dead 
 we are told : " Few were those who remained for ever 
 with the Sun, and they were not necessarily the great ones 
 of the earth, nor yet the very good, but those who 
 possessed the most minute information as to the next 
 world, and who were best versed in magic. Thus the 
 whole doctrine is based on a belief in the power of magic." * 
 " In the next world a correct knowledge of magic words 
 and formulas was absolutely essential. There no door 
 would open to him who knew not its name ; no demon 
 would allow the passage of the dead who did not call 
 upon him correctly, nor would any god come to his help 
 unless invoked by the right name ; no food could be 
 had so long as the exactly prescribed prayers were not 
 uttered with the true intonations. But the dead who 
 
 1 Alan H. Gardiner, Oxford Cong. Rep., i. 210. 
 
 2 Budge, Archaologia, lii. 421 sqq., transliterating, translating, and com- 
 menting on a papyrus in the British Museum, which belonged to a priest 
 of Ra about the year B.C. 305, and contains the ritual for the purpose. 
 
 2 Wiedemann, 94. 
 
136 RITUAL AND BELIEF 
 
 knew these formulas, and who knew how to speak them 
 correctly at the proper moment, who was mad kherti 
 (right-speaking), might rest assured of immortality and 
 of eternal blessedness." ^ This led of course to the 
 multiplication of spells, to the elaboration of ritual, 
 during the long ages of Egyptian history, until at last 
 they must have become extremely burdensome. 
 
 Moreover, sorcery was not only expended by man in the 
 service of the gods and of the dead : it was used by the 
 gods themselves. " Only by means of conjurations could 
 Ra himself pass through " the divisions between the 
 twelve hourly spaces of the night.* By the power of his 
 name Neb-er-tcher or Khepera, often identified with 
 certain aspects of Ra, the Sun, evolved himself and 
 created the world.* The secret name of Ra was a word 
 of might. Isis set herself with all her arts to learn it, 
 that she might possess the world in heaven and upon 
 earth as Ra did (that is, become a goddess) ; and when 
 she had extorted it from the august divinity, she turned 
 the weapon without hesitation upon himself.* By examples 
 like these men were authorized to have recourse to magic 
 in their own secular concerns, their loves and hates, their 
 sickness, their social and business relations, their private 
 enterprizes, their competitions and resentments. Kings 
 consulted the soothsayers on public affairs ; they 
 employed magical processes to vanquish their enemies ; 
 
 1 Wiedemann, 279. 2 j^id^^ gg_ 
 
 3 Budge, Archaologia, lii. 425, 440, 539 sqq. The Egyptian gods 
 merged into one another like the dissolving pictures of a lantern. This 
 was probably in part the result of the union in one kingdom of a number 
 of petty states, which were centres of worship of disparate though cognate 
 divinities, and the consequent effort to synthesize these divinities and their 
 worship, and in part the issue of philosophical speculation, itself doubtless 
 influenced by political events. 
 
 * Wiedemann, 54 ; Budge, Egypt. Magic, 137. Dr Frazer's version. 
 Taboo, 387, is formed on a comparison of these and other texts. 
 
RELATIONS OF RELIGION AND MAGIC 137 
 
 with the aid of soothsayers and magicians they governed 
 their realm. It was only when sorcery was directed 
 against the king's life, when it aimed at the overthrow 
 of his power, or the injury or death of others, that it 
 was reckoned a crime, or even reprehended on moral 
 grounds. 
 
 Nor did the magician hesitate to compel even the gods 
 to perform his wishes, and to threaten them, like the 
 Malay robber, with dire disaster to themselves and the 
 universe as a punishment of their obstinacy. In one 
 papyrus preserved to us, for example, a woman in labour 
 declares herself to be Isis and summons the gods to 
 her help. If they refuse to come, " Then shall ye be 
 destroyed, ye nine gods ; the heaven shall no longer 
 exist, the earth shall no longer exist, the five days over 
 and above the year shall cease to be, oiFerings shall no 
 longer be made to the gods, the lords of Heliopolis. 
 The firmament of the south shall fail, and disaster shall 
 break forth from the sky of the north. Lamentations shall 
 resound from the graves, the midday sun shall no longer 
 shine, the Nile shall not bestow its waters of inundation at 
 the appointed time." ^ Such bombastic menaces as these 
 continued to be part of the practitioner's stock-in-trade in 
 the Roman Empire to the downfall of paganism. 
 
 Among the ancient Greeks in Plato's time there were 
 soothsayers and medicine-men who professed to have 
 power over the gods, so that they could compel them to 
 do their bidding, even though it were to injure another 
 person.^ I am not aware whether any of their spells have 
 been preserved.* 
 
 1 Wiedemann, 273. More personal threats are often employed. See, 
 for examples, ArcA. Rel., xvi. 85. 
 
 2 Plato, Rep., ii. 364. 
 
 ^ There are of course plenty of magical Greek texts, but they are much 
 later. The papyri unearthed in such numbers during recent years contain 
 
138 RITUAL AND BELIEF 
 
 Cases like these display the religion of the community 
 applied to the private advantage of the individual. More 
 interesting is the authority which Mr Hodson attributes 
 to the khullakpa, or village priest, of the Naga tribes of 
 Manipur. The khuUakpa is to be distinguished from 
 the maiha, or medicine-man, who is doctor and magician 
 in one. The maiba is called in to deal with individual 
 cases ; the khuUakpa plays the leading part when a village 
 genna is held. It is he who offers the sacrifices and per- 
 forms the rites. The term genna means forbidden. A 
 genna extending to the whole village excludes strangers 
 from entering, and prohibits the inhabitants from going 
 out and from doing any work while the genna lasts ; 
 it may also prescribe fasting, continence, and other 
 observances. In short, "the ordinary routine of life is 
 profoundly modified, if not broken ofF altogether." A 
 genna may be either periodical, as for the sake of the 
 crops or the hunting ; or it may be occasional, as at a 
 death, or against epidemic sickness, or at an earthquake or 
 eclipse. A sacrifice is invariably a part of the ritual. 
 The khuUakpa " acts," says Mr Hodson, " whenever a 
 rite is performed which requires the whole force of the 
 community behind it, and this force finds its operation 
 through him. These village gennas seem in many cases 
 to be inspired by the belief that man, the man, the 
 
 many ; and they often imply that the deity invoked is compelled to per- 
 form his votary's wishes. He is addressed in terms of command, adjured 
 by names of power and bidden to be quick about his work. Such spells, 
 however, are not purely Greek. They are produced under foreign in- 
 fluence, and the gods or demons invoked bear alien names. The texts 
 are frequently defixiones. Simaitha's incantation in the second idyll of 
 Theocritus, so far as it is addressed to the Moon, to Hecate or Artemis, 
 is not couched in terms of command. The goddesses, if they grant the 
 damsel's desires, are accomplices who cannot plead vis major. Yet 
 threats and insults to the gods were, it seems, sometimes made use of, 
 probably in the hope of driving them by taunts to do what was "wanted 
 (see below, p. 190). The dividing line here is very thin. 
 
RELATIONS OF RELIGION AND MAGIC 139 
 
 khullakpa, when fortified by the whole strength and will 
 of the village, is able to control and constrain forces 
 which are beyond his control if unaided." ^ If this 
 inference, made by an acute observer, be correct, it is 
 a remarkable example of the corporate strength of the 
 society applied by means of religious rites to the coercion 
 of the gods and other supernatural beings. 
 
 Not a little significant of the intimate relations of 
 religion and magic is the fact that many peoples have 
 expressly ascribed the authorship and practice of magic 
 to their gods. In New South Wales the figure of 
 Baiame, the idealized headman just developing into a 
 god, is modelled upon that of a magician. He is described 
 by one of the tribes in so many words as " mightiest and 
 most famous of Wirreenun^'' or magicians.^ The Araw^k 
 of British Guiana tell of a similar personage in a semi- 
 deified position, named Araw^nili or Orow^ma, to whom 
 the mysteries of sorcery were revealed by an orehu. The 
 orehu is a sort of mermaid who is an important figure in 
 the mythology of these Indians. She haunts the rivers, a 
 capricious, mischievous, not always malicious and cruel, 
 but sometimes benevolent figure. In one of her kindlier 
 moments she met Arawanili brooding over the condition 
 to which men were reduced by the evil doings of the 
 yauhahu, downright malignant beings, the authors of sick- 
 ness and death. To combat their depredations she gave 
 him the sorcerer's rattle and instructed him how to use it. 
 " He followed her directions and thus became the founder 
 of that system which has since prevailed among all the 
 Indian tribes." According to Arawik belief Arawinili 
 did not die like other men, but " went up," that is to say, 
 disappeared or departed in the manner of other American 
 
 1 Hodson, Naga, 139, 141 ; cf. 102, 164. 
 
 2 Parker, Tales, i. 97. 
 
I40 RITUAL AND BELIEF 
 
 culture-heroes. We have no evidence, however, that he 
 is actually worshipped.-^ 
 
 The coast-dwellers of the Gazelle Peninsula of New 
 Pomerania, whose effective belief is in spirits, both manes 
 and spirits non-human in origin, presuppose in their 
 witchcraft the existence of these spirits. Sickness and 
 other ills are caused by evil-disposed spirits, and are 
 combated by magic. But this magic is due to the 
 superior might of well-disposed spirits. It is they who 
 reveal the spells by which human ailments may be 
 vanquished and human desires gratified. Among these 
 spirits are especially to be named the Inal, a spirit with 
 wings like a bird's and face like an owl's, inhabiting a 
 great giao-trce. (Ficus prolixd), and the Kaya, a gigantic 
 python with human face, worshipped by certain of the 
 natives as ancestor. From the ascription to spirits of all 
 spells made use of by the sorcerers. Father Meier, to 
 whom we are indebted for our knowledge of the native 
 beliefs, infers that the belief in spirits preceded witch- 
 craft.^ Whether the inference be right or wrong, there 
 can be no doubt of the fact that this belief and witchcraft 
 are now inseparable. 
 
 Among the Lushai-Kuki of Assam, Pathian the creator, 
 a quasi-supreme and benevolent being, was acquainted 
 with, but is not definitely stated to have been the author 
 of, witchcraft. It was taught by his daughter, as a ransom 
 for her life, to Vahrika, who had caught her stealing 
 water from his private supply. Vahrika is described as 
 " something like " Pathian — a purely mythological figure. 
 He in turn taught it all to others.^ In Japan, Jimmu 
 
 1 Brett, Ind. Tribes, 401. 
 
 2 Anthropos, viii. 3. For the belief in and cult of the Kaya, see ibid., 
 iii. 1005 ; and of the Inal, ibid., v. 95. 
 
 ' Shakespear, Lushai, 109 {cf. 61). 
 
RELATIONS OF RELIGION AND MAGIC 141 
 
 Tenno, the deified legendary founder of the empire, 
 is said to have first taught the use of magical formulae ; 
 while the gods Ohonamochi and Sukunabikona are 
 credited with the invention of medicine and magic.^ 
 The ancient Egyptians held Thoth, the god of writing 
 and guardian of law, " to have written the most sacred 
 books and formulas with his own hand, and therein to 
 have set down his knowledge of magic, in which art Isis 
 was his only rival. His pre-eminence in magic naturally 
 led to his becoming the god of medicine, for magic was 
 fully as important to the medical practitioners of the 
 Nile Valley as knowledge of remedies." ^ In other words, 
 medicine was not yet separated from magic, the physician 
 was a sorcerer, who may have been versed in simples, 
 but whose practice was essentially mysterious and derived 
 its eflrect rather from what we call supernatural than 
 natural modes of action. Hence to recognize Thoth 
 as god of medicine was equivalent to recognizing him 
 as god of magic, a character peculiarly suitable to a 
 god of letters. 
 
 Finally, not to lengthen the list, if we may trust the 
 Ynglinga-saga, Odin was the author of those crafts which 
 men have long since plied, and among them of magic. 
 He " was wise in that craft wherewith went most might, 
 which is called spell-craft ; and this he himself followed. 
 Wherefore he had might to know the fate of men and 
 things not yet come to pass ; yea, or how to work for 
 men bane or iUhap or ill -heal, and to take wit or 
 strength from men and give them unto others." He 
 was a notorious shape-shifter. " He knew how by words 
 alone to slake the fire or stiU the sea, and how to turn 
 
 > W. G. Aston, F. L., xxiii. 187 sq. 
 
 ' Wiedemann, 227. On Thoth as magician and the words of power 
 which he uttered and wrote down compare Budge, Egypt. Magic, 128 sqq. 
 
142 RITUAL AND BELIEF 
 
 the wind to whichso way he would." He could " wake 
 up dead men from the earth." He " knew of all buried 
 treasures where they were hidden ; and he knew lays 
 whereby the earth opened before him, and mountains 
 and rocks and mounds, and how to bind with words alone 
 whoso might be found dwelling therein ; and he would 
 go in and take thence what he would. From all this 
 craft he became exceeding famed, and his foes dreaded 
 him, but his friends put their trust in him, and had faith 
 in his craft and himself ; but he taught the more part 
 of his cunning to the temple-priests, and they were next 
 to him in all wisdom and cunning : albeit many others 
 got to them much knowledge thereof, and thence sorcery 
 spread far and wide and endured long." ^ Although the 
 opening chapters of the Ynglinga-saga, from which I have 
 extracted these particulars, are a late and euhemerized 
 version of the Scandinavian mythology, the account of 
 Odin's magical powers contains little that does not appear 
 in the early poems, or cannot be inferred from them. 
 Whatever may have been the primitive form of this 
 renowned god, there can be no doubt that he was before 
 the close of the pagan age regarded as a god of magic 
 and sorcery. His reputation as god of poetry, and 
 probably as war-god, is bound up with this. The magical 
 value attached to verse is very common among peoples 
 in an archaic stage of culture ; and it was shared to the 
 full by the ancient Norsemen. Many of them — at least 
 in Viking days, and it is by no means unlikely much 
 earlier — combined in their own persons the warrior with 
 the poet and the sorcerer. Nor shall we go far astray 
 if we conclude that these various strands had been long 
 interwoven to form the character of the Lord of the Anses. 
 The intimate relation existing among the Norse between 
 ' Morris, Heimskringla, i. i8, 19. 
 
RELATIONS OF RELIGION AND MAGIC 143 
 
 religion and magic is further indicated by the superior 
 magical knowledge and powers ascribed to them and 
 stated to be originally derived from Odin. 
 
 Thus, on the one hand, we find constraint of the higher 
 powers for public or private ends ; on the other hand, 
 the invention of speUs and practice of magic are attributed 
 to the gods themselves. We may think that constraint 
 of the gods is inconsistent with worship. This is not 
 the notion of peoples among which magic and religion 
 are thus interwoven. The object of religion is to acquire 
 benefits for the individual or the community. With 
 this end men deem themselves justified in applying any 
 means likely to secure it ; and they treat their gods as they 
 would powerful feUow-men, seeking favours where favours 
 are to be had for the asking or in return for favours, 
 enforcing compliance with their wishes where prayers will 
 not avail, or cheating them where they get the chance. The 
 repetition of a divine name may be either a favour to the 
 god, or may be compulsion. The votary cares not to 
 distinguish. In either case it brings about the gratifica- 
 tion of his wishes. The village genna practised by the 
 Nagas is compulsion. It is none the less worship. 
 Many of the magical texts of ancient Egypt are directed 
 to assisting the gods to overcome their enemies, thus 
 rendering them a favour which they were bound to 
 return. The ritual of the Scapegoat, familiar to us in 
 its Hebrew formj^^ but in fact found in many other 
 quarters of the globe, presents another form of these 
 magical practices. The sins of which men have been 
 guilty, the evils from which they have been suffering are 
 laden on the head of the unfortunate victim, who is forth- 
 with put to death or driven away forever from society. 
 
 1 Levit. xvi. 8. On the Scapegoat in general see Dr Frazer's volume 
 bearing that title. 
 
144 RITUAL AND BELIEF 
 
 Whether in the earliest form of the rite the victim was 
 regarded as divine may be doubted : it is certain that 
 it has been taken up into the cult of the gods in many 
 religions, and has been deemed a pious act, a work of 
 obligation, for the wellbeing of the joint community, of 
 gods and men. 
 
 Divine beings may even be made accomplices in Black 
 or antisocial Magic without any compulsion. The white- 
 headed carrion-hawk {Haliaster intermedius) is the most 
 important bird of omen observed by the Kenyahs of 
 Borneo. Under the name of Bali Flaki he is looked upon 
 as messenger and intermediary between themselves and 
 Bali Penyalong, the Supreme Being. Apparently every 
 individual hawk is such a messenger, but his sacred 
 character appears in his title Bali : a word probably 
 derived from the Sanskrit and sometimes translated holy^ 
 but having the force of " an adjectival equivalent of the 
 mana of the Melanesians, or of the wakanda or orenda of 
 North American tribes, words which seem to connote all 
 power other than purely mechanical."^ Bali Flaki is 
 appealed to publicly on behalf of the community on 
 various occasions, as on sowing or harvesting the rice- 
 crop, making war or peace, or in fact before any under- 
 taking or decision. His aid may also " be sought privately 
 by any man who wishes to injure another. For this 
 purpose a man makes a rough wooden image in human 
 form, and retires to some quiet spot on the river-bank, 
 where he sets up a tegulun^ a horizontal pole supported 
 about a yard above the ground by a pair of vertical 
 poles. He lights a small fire beside the tegulun, and 
 taking a fowl in one hand, he sits on the ground behind 
 it, so as to see through it a square patch of sky, and so 
 waits until a hawk becomes visible upon the patch. As 
 
 ' Hose, ii. 29 note. 
 
RELATIONS OF RELIGION AND MAGIC 145 
 
 soon as a hawk appears he kills the fowl, and with a 
 frayed stick smears its blood on the wooden image, saying : 
 ' Put fat in his mouth.' " This appears to be addressed 
 to the hawk. In the description of what is in effect the 
 same rite as practised among some of the Klemantans of 
 the same island, we are definitely told it is so addressed. 
 The expression means, " Let his head be taken " ; for the 
 people are head-hunters, and fat is put in the mouth of 
 every head taken. Messrs Hose and M'Dougall, whom 
 I am quoting, proceed : " And he puts a bit of fat in the 
 mouth of the image. Then he strikes at the breast of the 
 image with a wooden spear, and throws it into a pool of 
 water reddened with red earth, and then takes it out and 
 buries it in the ground," in the manner in which only 
 persons dying by violence or some much feared disease 
 are buried. " While the hawk is visible he waves it 
 towards the left ; for he knows that if it flies to the left 
 he will prevail over his enemy, but that if it goes to 
 the right his enemy is too strong for him." In the 
 Klemantan rite, as described for us, he also shouts to the 
 hawk to go to the left. When it has gone in the desired 
 direction he addresses a prayer beginning " O Bali Flaki, 
 go your way, let this man (naming him) die ; go and put 
 him in the lake of blood, O Bali Flaki ; stab him 
 in the chest, Bali Flaki," and so on, invoking all sorts 
 of evil deaths upon him.^ Now here we have a well- 
 known rite of antisocial magic. But to make it effectual 
 "the cooperation of the divine power is requisite. That 
 power is called upon. There is no attempt to coerce Bali 
 Flaki, who, if not himself a god, is at least a messenger 
 and intermediary of the great god Bali Penyalong. Yet 
 there is confidence that he can perform the request, and 
 that he shows by his flight that he will do so. 
 
 1 Hose, 56, 117. 
 
 10 
 
146 RITUAL AND BELIEF 
 
 So on the mainland of India, in the Nilgiri Hills, the 
 Toda sorcerer, having procured some human hair — not 
 that of the person to be injured, for it would be impossible 
 to get it — ties together by its means five small stones, 
 and with a piece of cloth makes a bundle of them. Over 
 them'thus tied up he utters his incantation. It begins 
 by calling on his gods ; and whether the opening clauses 
 be precisely rendered or not in the following free trans- 
 lation, it is clear that the gods are invoked. Indeed, Dr 
 Rivers, after careful enquiry, expresses the opinion that 
 " in the formulae used in Toda sorcery appeal to the gods 
 is even more definite than in the prayers of the dairy 
 ritual," the most important of the religious ceremonies. 
 " In them," he says, " the names of four most important 
 gods are mentioned, and it seems quite clear that the 
 sorcerer believes he is eiFecting his purpose through the 
 power of the gods." The spell runs something like this : 
 *' For the sake of Pithioteu, On, Teikirzi and Tirshti ; 
 by the power of the gods, if there be power ; by the 
 gods' country, if there be a country ; may his calves 
 perish ; as birds fly away, may his buffaloes go when the 
 calves come to suck ; as I drink water, may he have 
 nothing but water to drink ; as I am thirsty, may he also 
 be thirsty ; as I am hungry, may he also be hungry ; as 
 my children cry, so may his children cry ; as my wife 
 wears only a ragged cloth, so may his wife wear only a 
 ragged cloth." The bundle thus enchanted he hides in 
 the thatch of the victim's hut.^ 
 
 Another example of the complicity in hostile magic of 
 a supernatural being, who perhaps can hardly be pro- 
 nounced a god in the strict sense of the term, though 
 
 1 Rivers, Todas, 257, 450. For an alternative translation of the third 
 clause of the spell, see pp. 195, 271. For another form of the spell, see 
 p. 259. 
 
RELATIONS OF RELIGION AND MAGIC 147 
 
 powerful for good and ill, may be cited, this time from 
 the continent of Africa. The religion of the Boloki 
 (Bangala) on the Upper Congo, we are told, " has its 
 basis in their fear of those numerous invisible spirits 
 which surround them on every side, and are constantly 
 trying to compass their sickness, misfortune and death ; 
 and the Boloki's sole object in practising their religion 
 is to cajole or appease, cheat, or conquer and kill those 
 spirits that trouble them — hence their nganga [medicine- 
 man], their rites, their ceremonies and their charms. If 
 there were no evil spirits to be circumvented, there would 
 be no need of their medicine-men and their charms." 
 Among these various spirits is one called £/o, the spirit 
 of wealth. " A man who wants to become rich pays a 
 large fee to nganga ya bwaka [the most feared and 
 respected of aU the classes of medicine-men], who then 
 uses his influence with Ejo on behalf of his client, who 
 must in all future gains set apart a portion for Ejo, and 
 should he fail to do so, Ejo has the power to punish him. 
 . . . When a person has received the mono mwa ejo {ejo 
 medicine or charm), and has become wealthy by his 
 luck-giving power, he takes the nail-parings and hair- 
 cuttings of a woman and makes medicine with them ; 
 and the woman soon dies and her spirit goes to Ejo as an 
 oflfering for its help. He is said to lekia nkali (to pass 
 her on as a gift or sacrifice to Ejo)." ^ It is difficult to dis- 
 tinguish a transaction like this from the ordinary relations 
 of a man to his god. The votary pays tithe of his gains 
 obtained by favour of the spirit ; and over and above the 
 tithe, he is under the necessity of providing a human 
 sacrifice from time to time for the spirit. But the means 
 by which the sacrifice is provided are the exercise of 
 witchcraft, and that with the full knowledge and assist- 
 
 1 J. H. Weeks,/. A. I., xl. 377, 378. 
 
148 RITUAL AND BELIEF 
 
 ance of the supernatural being who is to be kept in good 
 humour thereby. 
 
 An example of the intermingling of religion and magic 
 in a different way may also be taken from the same people. 
 " Physical phenomena (as heavy storms), when taking place 
 about the time that a person dies, or is being buried, 
 are regarded as caused by the deceased person ; hence 
 when a storm threatens to break during the funeral 
 festivities of a man, the people present will call the 
 beloved child of the deceased, and, giving him a lighted 
 ember from the hearth with a vine twined round it, they 
 wiU ask him to stop the rain. The lad steps forward and 
 waves the vine-encircled ember towards the horizon where 
 the storm is rising, and says : ' Father, let us have fine 
 weather during your funeral ceremonies.' The son, 
 after this rite, must not drink water (he may drink sugar- 
 cane wine), nor put his feet in water for one day. Should 
 he not observe this custom, the rain will at once fall." ^ 
 The boy's father, having died, has become a mongoli, that 
 is to say, an ancestral spirit of indefinite powers, who 
 watches over the perpetuation of his family, haunts the 
 forest or the river, inspires mediums to deliver oracles, 
 and visits the village at times in the material form of a 
 crocodile or a hippopotamus to receive ofi^erings of sugar- 
 cane wine and food. His favourite son has influence with 
 him to change his purposes, and exercises that influence 
 by prayer. But to make the prayer effectual in staying 
 the storm, he must use a widely diffused charm against 
 rain — the waving of a brand and abstinence from water. 
 
 It is probable, as we have seen, that the early stages of 
 ritual were vague and inchoate. It was adaptable to 
 
 1 J. H. Weeks,/. A. I., xl. 383. Surely in the face of these examples 
 Mr Weeks' statement—" Nor did we find any form of prayer among them, 
 no worship and no sacrifices " {ibid., 376)— needs some qualification. As 
 to the mongoli, see ibid., 368. 
 
RELATIONS OF RELIGION AND MAGIC 149 
 
 interpretation as culture progressed, as new beliefs were 
 evolved or imported. Such an example of adaptability 
 has been pointed out by Miss Werner in a rite practised 
 by the Anyanja of British Central Africa when rain is 
 wanted. It is complete in itself, but is now prefaced by 
 an appeal to Mpambe, a quasi-supreme being. " The 
 principal part was taken by a woman — the chief's sister. 
 She began by dropping ufa [maize-flour] on the ground, 
 slowly and carefully, till it formed a cone, and in doing 
 this called out in a high-pitched voice, ' Imva Mpambe ! 
 Adza mvula ' (Hear thou, O God, and send rain !), and 
 the assembled people responded, clapping their hands 
 softly and intoning — they always intone their prayers — 
 ' Imva Mpambe.^ The beer was then poured out as a 
 libation, and the people, following the example of the 
 woman, threw themselves on their backs and clapped 
 their hands (a form of salutation to superiors), and finally 
 danced round the chief where he sat on the ground." 
 Then followed the rite in question. " The dance ceased ; 
 a large jar of water was brought and placed before the 
 chief. First Mbudzi (his sister) washed her hands, arms 
 and face ; then water was poured over her by another 
 woman ; then all the women rushed forward with 
 calabashes in their hands, and, dipping them into the 
 jar, threw the water into the air with loud cries and wild 
 gesticulations." This is obviously a rain-charm, but, as 
 Miss Werner says, it " might be taken as prayer and not 
 magic, if we are to understand the water to be thrown 
 into the air as a sign that water is wanted." She adds : 
 " Sometimes people smear themselves with mud and 
 charcoal to show that they want washing. If the rain 
 stiU does not come, they go and wash themselves in the 
 rivers and streams." ^ The women's action and cries may 
 
 1 Werner, 56,^76. 
 
ISO RITUAL AND BELIEF 
 
 be interpreted as addressed to someone or something, 
 though possibly originating merely in excessive emotion 
 and now become traditional. It would be only necessary 
 for the cries to become articulate and the name of 
 Mpambe, or some other name, to be pronounced, to 
 form a genuine invocation, as has happened in the Boloki 
 rite just described. Actually the invocation forms the 
 preliminary of the rite : that may be what, for want of 
 better knowledge, we should call an accident. That it 
 is comparatively recent is shown by the employment of 
 maize-flour. The evolution might easily have taken 
 another course. 
 
 Turning to another continent, we may find an example 
 of adaptability of a more elaborate ceremony. The Navaho 
 are in the main an Athapascan people who have wandered 
 down to the sterile plains of New Mexico and Arizona. 
 There, ages ago, they came into contact with the more 
 settled Pueblo tribes. The researches of American anthro- 
 pologists show the practical identity of certain of their 
 religious rituals with those of their Pueblo neighbours. 
 It would seem that these rituals have been taken over 
 from the latter. This is only natural, seeing that the 
 Navaho came down from the north with an undeveloped 
 culture and organization into a country where new needs 
 were experienced and a higher civilization was met with. 
 But in taking over the rituals they have applied them to 
 purposes different from those of their original performers. 
 The chief aim of the ceremonies as used among the Pueblo 
 tribes is to obtain fertility, and the condition of fertility 
 is rain. This is clear from the use made of corn-meal 
 and corn-pollen. " Pollen is the symbol of fertility, and 
 the rite at bottom is for rain. The Navaho took over 
 the use of the corn and the pollen together with the other 
 features ; but the corn no longer served its previous 
 
RELATIONS OF RELIGION AND MAGIC 151 
 
 purpose as a prayer for rain and the ripening of the 
 crops : it was used for the cure of disease." ^ The Dene 
 or Athapascans, of which stem the Navaho are a branch, 
 are a people of migratory hunters. Agriculture would 
 be foreign to them. Their principal ceremonies are 
 concerned with the conjuration of evil spirits and the 
 cure of diseases, which are usually ascribed to the spirits. 
 It was natural that when they borrowed the ceremonies of 
 a settled agricultural community they should imbue them 
 with their own ideas. In their hands the cure of disease 
 " became the fundamental feature of the borrowed rites. 
 A ceremony intended for rain-making would naturally 
 need some alteration in order to serve as a cure of 
 disease." ^ And it has received it. The fact that they 
 have been able so to adapt the rites probably points to 
 some want of definiteness in the form of the rites at the 
 time they were borrowed. 
 
 Another illustration of adaptability is seen in the rites 
 at wells or rocks common all over Europe. "What may 
 have been the original cause of the sacredness of a well or 
 a rock, what may have been the original intention of the 
 processions, the dances and the decorations we have of 
 course no means of knowing. We may guess that some 
 peculiarity in the shape of the rock, the sweet or healing 
 waters of the fountain, or some sudden and unexplained 
 or untoward incident first called and concentrated popular 
 attention, and that a precise, intelligible meaning may 
 hardly have been attached to the few and simple ceremonies 
 first performed. In course of time, we may conjecture, 
 ritual and belief were elaborated and defined. However 
 this may be, we know that before the end of paganism — 
 
 1 A. M. Tozzer, Putnam Vol., 304. Cf. Matthews, Navaho Leg., 40. 
 
 2 Tozzer, op. cit., 303. On the rites and beliefs of the Dene, see Father 
 Jett^,/. A. /., xxxvii. 157 sqq. 
 
152 RITUAL AND BELIEF 
 
 at least in those countries of the west where inscriptions 
 have been preserved — a spirit or god was believed to 
 haunt the place and to preside over the rites of which it 
 was the scene. To him they were addressed, and it was 
 his favour they sought to conciliate. Christianity came 
 and diverted the rites to new objects, not altogether for- 
 bidding, but baptizing them, in accordance with the policy 
 enunciated in Pope Gregory's famous letter to the Abbot 
 Mellitus. All these changes necessitate adaptations of 
 practice. That which at first was formless receives a 
 definite form. That which may have been an indeter- 
 minate expression of awe and reverence becomes distinctly 
 worship, though not without elements, often retained to 
 the last, that we should call magical. And the changes 
 in the nominal objects of worship are accompanied by 
 progressive changes in the details of the ritual. Lastly 
 when, as in many cases, official recognition of the ritual 
 is abandoned, and it is left to the unguided superstition 
 of the peasant, it tends to slip back into its original in- 
 determinate condition. Acts are performed or avoided, 
 and ceremonies undertaken, not as worship of a power 
 known and resident on the hallowed spot, but for benefits 
 sometimes precise, more often for luck mysterious, im- 
 personal, half-credited, or from fear of something equally 
 mysterious, but for that reason all the more terrible. 
 Beyond this, the practices linger into a stage, unknown 
 to the savages who began them, where they are performed 
 for pleasure, or else in the hope of monetary gain, by 
 children and adolescents, and die away gradually under 
 the stress of modern life and the influence of the 
 schoolmaster. 
 
 The earlier stages of this round may, as we have seen, 
 be observed occasionally in the rites of peoples still in the 
 lower culture. Close observation, accurate analysis and 
 
RELATIONS OF RELIGION AND MAGIC 153 
 
 comparison would probably result in finding them more 
 frequently. Meanwhile let us turn to another question. 
 
 If I have been right in insisting throughout these 
 essays on the fundamental organic unity of Magic and 
 Religion, I have not denied their gradual separation and 
 opposition at a later stage. They have their common 
 root in the same attitude toward the environment, social 
 and physical. Rite and belief have been elaborated and 
 organized together. For ages during this process magic 
 and religion must have been integral parts of one another, 
 as they are now in many parts of the world. Except in 
 regard to antisocial magic, they have not yet among 
 many peoples begun to feel opposition. But this unity, 
 as civilization progresses, becomes more and more un- 
 stable. Where, as is said to be the case in Morocco, 
 civilization has recoiled, magic comes more and more to 
 the front. Though it does so not without protests on 
 the part of those who retain any consciousness of the 
 higher development of religion, still on the whole it is 
 successful in overlaying religion and pushing it into the 
 background. Another people whose religion is in process 
 of degeneration, if Dr Rivers' opinion be correct, is the 
 Todas. There the magic of the dairy ritual has thrust 
 aside the worship of the gods. In this case, however, the 
 opposition is not open and avowed. The history of the 
 Todas is a blank. We cannot put our finger on one 
 period and say : Here the gods were worshipped and the 
 dairy magic was unknown. We have no records. We 
 can only conclude from an examination of the internal 
 evidence that the gods once played a more prominent 
 part in the life of the community than they do now, but 
 that Toda culture had not so far progressed that magic 
 was not an inseparable part of religion, and that any 
 growth of magic at the expense of religion would have 
 
154 RITUAL AND BELIEF 
 
 been viewed without misgiving or even consciousness. 
 Even religions where the opposition is most pronounced 
 are themselves by no means pure from magic. All the 
 subtlety, all the rhetoric of theologians may well be 
 needed to rebut the charge of magic against the seven 
 sacraments of the Church. I at least have no intention 
 to risk the curse levelled by the Council of Trent at him 
 who denies their efficacy ex opere operate, and whether or 
 not the minister may be in a state of mortal sin. 
 
 In denouncing witchcraft the Christian Church has 
 followed the lead of the Hebrew religion. The Hebrew 
 law against witchcraft was unambiguous, pitiless. " Thou 
 shalt not suffer a sorceress to live " ^ is the grim direction 
 of the oldest Hebrew writing. It is expanded by the 
 Deuteronomist : " When thou art come into the land 
 which Yahwfe thy God giveth thee, thou shalt not learn 
 to do after the abominations of those nations. There 
 shall not be found with thee anyone that maketh his son 
 or his daughter to pass through the fire, one that useth 
 divination, one that practiseth augury, or an enchanter, 
 or a sorcerer, or a charmer, or a consulter with a familiar 
 spirit, or a wizard, or a necromancer. For whosoever 
 doeth these things is an abomination unto Yahwfe ; and 
 because of these abominations Yahw^ thy God doth drive 
 them out from before thee." ^ This is pretty compre- 
 hensive. Yet it left many practices within the national 
 religion, recognized as part of it, though essentially 
 magical. The scapegoat I have already mentioned. 
 The ordeal of the water of bitterness, to which a woman 
 suspected by her husband of infidelity was compelled 
 to submit, is equally a magical proceeding.* Both are 
 sanctioned, not to say prescribed, by Yahwfe ; though in 
 their present form the prescriptions may be late. Divina- 
 ' Exod, xxii, 1 8. 2 Deut. xviii. 9 sqq. ^ Num. v. 11 sgq. 
 
RELATIONS OF RELIGION AND MAGIC 155 
 
 tion is prohibited, and consultation with familiar spirits 
 or the ghosts of the dead, augury, and the taking of 
 omens. Nevertheless, the children of Israel enquired 
 of Yahwfe, and he answered them by dreams ; and the 
 high priest divined by means of Urim and Thummim. 
 Teraphim seem to have been amulets — one might almost 
 say fetishes. They are referred to more than once in the 
 Hebrew books. As late as the prophet Hosea they were 
 not merely tolerated but regarded as necessities to the 
 prosperity of the people. " For the children of Israel 
 shall abide many days without king and without prince, 
 and without sacrifice and without pillar (massebah), and 
 without ephod or teraphim. Afterward shall the children 
 of Israel return and seek the Lord their God and David 
 their king, and shall come with fear unto the Lord and to 
 his goodness in the latter days." ^ The use of the ephod 
 was probably connected with divination, and Yahwfe, 
 speaking through the prophet, expressly countenanced not 
 only this, but also the use of teraphim. With growing 
 monotheism they were, however, eventually repressed. 
 
 Indeed, a comparison of the passages in which refer- 
 ence is made to various magical practices will suggest that 
 the real reason of the hostility to them arose from their 
 connection with heathenism. They were representative 
 practices of a rival religion. They hindered the con- 
 centration of worship on Yahwe at his sole shrine on 
 Mount Zion. On the other hand, the casting out of 
 evil spirits continued unabated and unreproved into 
 New Testament times, and the wearing of personal 
 amulets in the shape of phylacteries persists among 
 the uneducated classes of Jews to the present day and 
 has full rabbinical sanction. Both these practices are 
 uncontrovertibly magical. 
 
 1 Hos. iii. 4, S- Cf. T. W. Davies, Magic, 36 ; and Encyc. Bibl., s.v. 
 
156 RITUAL AND BELIEF 
 
 Similar considerations inspired mediaeval hostility to 
 witchcraft, and continued it with little decrease of 
 intensity into the eighteenth century. Witchcraft was 
 rebellion against the established religion. It was 
 identified with heresy. It involved contempt of the 
 omnipotent priesthood, derogating thus not merely from 
 its reputation, but also its gains. It was believed even 
 to set up a rival god. This belief was an inheritance 
 from primitive Christianity, which looked upon the 
 heathen gods as devils. Every miracle which imposed 
 on the credulity of those ages, if performed by a Christian, 
 was attributed to divine interference ; if performed, on 
 the contrary, by a pagan, was with as little hesitation 
 ascribed to Satan and his underlings. In either case 
 nobody doubted the fact of the occurrence, or thought 
 it worth while minutely to examine the evidence. The 
 hostility of the Church to witchcraft had, however, the 
 excuse that the heathen rites were in a large measure 
 magical, and that magic, other than Black Magic, was 
 avowedly practised during pagan times and regarded 
 with toleration, if not complacency. Heathenism died 
 a hard death. Somewhat changed in form it survived 
 for centuries ; and many of the heretical sects were more 
 or less impregnated with it. 
 
 But all this does not fully account for the horror and 
 hatred felt against magic alike by churchmen and the 
 laity. What gave intensity to the opposition was the 
 dread that magical powers would be used to the dis- 
 advantage, the injury, the death of all against whom 
 the magician had a grudge. So persistently did this 
 dread take hold of the imagination that the practice of 
 magic was finally identified with Black Magic, and to 
 be accused of witchcraft meant to be charged with the 
 attempt to injure, and perhaps to slay, one's neighbours 
 
RELATIONS OF RELIGION AND MAGIC 157 
 
 by mysterious, and because mysterious, horrible means. 
 Against proceedings of this kind there was no protection 
 but in hunting out and putting an end to the magicians. 
 This feeling had manifested itself even in pagan times. 
 Both in Greece and at Rome the laws condemned 
 magicians to death. 
 
 It is, in fact, the tendency to individualism rather than 
 magic itself that has awakened hostility everywhere. 
 But this tendency is inherent in magic. In the lower 
 stages of civilization magic is undistinguished not only 
 from religion but from medicine, from astronomy, from 
 engineering, from literary learning, from the practice of 
 industries other than the simplest and of art. Con- 
 sequently everyone who possesses a little more skill 
 than ordinary, or is credited with a knowledge surpass- 
 ing that of the vulgar, faces the inevitable risk of being 
 reputed a magician, and the suspicion of using his 
 advantages to the detriment of others. Nor is the 
 suspicion unfounded. Human nature being what it is, 
 power, of whatever kind, is utilized for the benefit of 
 its possessor, frequently without regard to the claims of 
 others or the public good. The shaman or the wizard 
 who is called in to the aid of the sick is often the de- 
 positary of knowledge of healing herbs and of poisons. 
 The powers that are at the disposal of beneficence are 
 equally applied to baleful ends. The healing of disease, 
 whether it be effected by suggestion or by physical 
 remedies, may be a social good : primarily and directly 
 it is an individual benefit. To put the public foe under 
 a spell excites the approval of the community. To lay 
 a private enemy low is a very different matter. But 
 the same expert by the exercise of the same skiU performs 
 both. Moreover, he subserves the ends of private gain 
 and private revenge with equal indifference, and, it is 
 
158 RITUAL AND BELIEF 
 
 believed, by the same mysterious means. In all these 
 instances the professor of magic places his skill, know- 
 ledge, experience, and the terror of his name and 
 incantations — in one word, his orenda — at the service 
 of his clients without distinction. As civilization ad- 
 vances, and religion and religious ministers begin to 
 be differentiated from the wizard or medicine-man, the 
 latter is probably called on less and less to perform rites 
 on behalf of the public, and more and more on behalf 
 of individuals. The portions of magic that can be 
 disposed for the purposes of the community are taken 
 up into religion. What remains when this is done 
 becomes specifically the method and practice of the 
 magician. Small wonder then that the only magic 
 recognized as such is antisocial magic. 
 
 On the other hand, so great is the terror inspired by 
 magic, and so instinctively gregarious is mankind, that 
 mere eccentricity, the failure to follow the crowd, is 
 often of itself sufficient to start the cry of witchcraft. 
 The slavery of man in the lower culture to custom is 
 a commonplace of anthropology. That custom is 
 religious to the core, for religion is only one aspect of 
 the social polity. Everyone observes it, because upon it 
 depends the weal of all alike. Everyone's eye too is 
 upon his neighbour ; and a departure from custom is 
 sure to be noticed, and equally sure to be resented 
 as something sinister. At the least it is viewed with 
 suspicion and concern. Done innocently, it wiU bring 
 misfortune on the doer and all connected with him. 
 Done with a purpose, it is abhorred and punished as 
 evil magic. Happily the fear of witchcraft is not every- 
 where an obsession. Where it is, as almost all over 
 Africa, it has become the most powerful cause of the 
 stagnation of culture. Mr Weeks, a missionary of long 
 
RELATIONS OF RELIGION AND MAGIC 159 
 
 experience, and an admirable observer, speaking of the 
 Bangala on the Upper Congo, says the native " has a 
 wonderful power of imitation, but he lacks invention 
 and initiative ; but this lack is undoubtedly due to 
 suppression of the inventive faculty. For generations it 
 has been the custom to charge with witchcraft anyone 
 who commenced a new industry or discovered a new 
 article of barter. The making of anything out of the 
 ordinary has brought on the maker a charge of witch- 
 craft that again and again has resulted in death by the 
 ordeal. To know more than others, to be more skilful 
 than others, more energetic, more acute in business, 
 more smart in dress, has often caused a charge of witch- 
 craft and death. Therefore the native, to save his life 
 and live in peace, has smothered his inventive faculty, 
 and all spirit of enterprise has been driven out of him."^ 
 This deplorable result is attributable to the suspicion 
 of antisocial ends. It is this kind of magic which alone 
 is reprobated in the lower culture. Death is very 
 generally regarded as unnatural. If not caused by open 
 violence, it must be due to spirits or to magic. Magic 
 indeed is often deemed responsible for deaths by violence, 
 or deaths credited to the immediate action of the spirits. 
 Magic sets both causes in motion. Hence at a death, 
 however occasioned, an inquest is commonly held to 
 ascertain who is responsible ; the accused is required to 
 undergo an ordeal, and is punished if found guilty — as 
 he usually is. But it is not the practice of magic that 
 is condemned ; it is the application of magic to the injury 
 of the community. The chieftain of a tribe of Bantu 
 " smeUs out " and puts to death the witch who has slain 
 his father. The same chieftain will habitually practise 
 magic on another chief before fighting with him. He 
 
 ' Weeks 177. 
 
i6o RITUAL AND BELIEF 
 
 will make rain, or employ a wizard for the purpose. 
 His sacrifices and acts of worship are inextricably mingled 
 with magic. Even when the schism between magic and 
 religion has attained much wider dimensions than any- 
 where among the Bantu, it is rather magic in its anti- 
 social aspect than in itself that is reprobated and punished. 
 The departure from established custom and established 
 belief involves a severance from the community and an 
 imputation of antisocial ends. The pursuit of individual 
 desires and hatreds at odds with the general interest is 
 what arouses the anger of society. Practices essentially 
 magical may be incorporated in religious rites and 
 exercised for what is believed to be the public good ; 
 and they will continue to be exercised with general assent, 
 even in the highest forms of religion. 
 
THE BOLDNESS OF THE CELTS 
 
 ^LiAN, writing of the boldness of the Celts, relates that 
 many of them await the overflowing sea, some throwing 
 themselves armed into the waves and receiving their 
 onset with drawn swords and threatening spears, just as 
 if they could scare back or wound them.^ This report 
 seems to have come to him in the shape of gossip ; nor 
 does he assign it to any tribe or definite locality. That 
 there was some ground for it, however, is to be inferred 
 from the existence in the Book of Ballymote, an Irish 
 manuscript of the end of the fourteenth century, of a 
 short tradition, obviously of much earlier date, concerning 
 Tuirbhe Traghmar, the father of Goban Saer, who owned 
 Traigh Tuirbhi. " Tis from that heritage he, standing 
 on Telach Bela (the Hill of the Axe), would hurl a cast 
 of his axe in the face of the flood-tide, so that he forbade 
 the sea, which then would not come over the axe." ^ 
 
 The rhetorician perhaps regarded this Celtic practice 
 as a useless piece of bravado, and only cited it by way 
 of climax to his illustrations of Celtic daring and reck- 
 lessness. There is little doubt that to the Celts them- 
 selves it was quite difi^erent. The sea and the waves were 
 looked upon as personal beings with whom it was possible 
 literally to fight, and who might even be overcome. 
 
 1 yElian, Var. Hist, xii. 23. Philo {Dreams, ii. 17) attributes the same 
 practice to the Germans. 
 
 2 O'Grady, ii. 518. Professor Whitley Stokes also gives it, F. L.,'w. 
 488, from an Edinburgh MS. I quote his translation, which is to the 
 same effect as Mr O'Crad/s. 
 
 161 II 
 
1 62 RITUAL AND BELIEF 
 
 Such a view is common to many seaboard peoples. A 
 curiously parallel tradition is found among the Malays at 
 Jugra on the Selangor coast concerning the bore of the 
 Langat River. This bore was conceived to be caused 
 by the passage of a gigantic animal, probably a dragon. 
 When it came up the river the iVIalays used to go out 
 in small canoes or dug-outs to "sport amongst the 
 breakers," frequently getting upset for their pains. 
 Eventually however, as Mr Skeat was told, the bore 
 was killed by a Malay, who struck it upon the head with 
 a stick. Whether from this cause or from the diversion 
 of the stream into a new channel to the sea, there is no 
 longer a bore in the rlver.^ We may conclude that the 
 Malays who went out to sport among the breakers really 
 went to assail the bore in force, and that when the bore 
 ceased to flow the belief arose that one of them had 
 attacked it successfully and killed it. 
 
 European folk-tales have been found recording a similar 
 belief. Among the Basques we are told that a witch 
 once determined to sink a certain fishing-boat and drown 
 its crew. Her plan was to overwhelm it with three 
 immense waves, the first of milk, the second of tears, 
 and the third of blood. The boat might ride in safety 
 over the first two ; but the third wave would be herself 
 in person, and the only way to escape would be to 
 launch a harpoon into the midst of it : the weapon would 
 pierce her heart, and the boat with its crew would be 
 saved. With the want of caution which, fortunately for 
 the heroes of folk-tales, is so remarkable a characteristic 
 of cunning and malevolent beings, the plot was laid in the 
 hearing of the cabin-boy. At the critical moment he 
 nerved his arm to fling the harpoon, and struck the wave 
 in the midst. It divided and dashed upon the shore, 
 1 Skeat, Magic, lo. 
 
THE BOLDNESS OF THE CELTS 163 
 
 covering all the strand with a bloody foam. The bark 
 
 was saved ; but on his return the master found his wife 
 
 dying of her wound, for she was the witch who had 
 
 planned the destruction of her husband and his craft.^ 
 
 This Basque story, though only recorded in a literary 
 
 version, appears to be a genuine folk-tale, since it is also 
 
 found substantially the same among the traditions of 
 
 the Frisian Islands and Norway.^ 
 
 Other waters than the sea have likewise been endowed 
 
 with personality. Rivers and streams have everywhere 
 
 been regarded as conscious beings, or (in a later stage 
 
 of animism) as the haunt of such beings. Usually they 
 
 have been reckoned as endowed with a might too 
 
 mystical and too tremendous to be attacked by man ; 
 
 but occasionally men of heroic mould have been supposed 
 
 to fight and overcome them. Professor Frazer has 
 
 argued with probability that the angel who wrestled with 
 
 Jacob at the ford of the Jabbok was in the original tale 
 
 the river-god himself, the awful spirit of the Jabbok.^ 
 
 He has not adduced any direct parallel in support of 
 
 the conjecture, though the examples of oiFerings to 
 
 streams for leave to cross them, of which he has 
 
 collected a number from various parts of the world, do 
 
 show that these waters are inhabited by supernatural 
 
 beings, who must be treated with respect and whose 
 
 goodwill must be obtained. Where he has failed to find 
 
 parallels it is not likely that another can succeed. Yet 
 
 it is curious that he should have overlooked the 
 
 ' Vinson, 20. According to this story there were two cabin-boys, one 
 of whom overheard the plot and the other struck the blow, but this appears 
 to be a literary embellishment 
 
 2 Strackerjan, i. 324, 32s ; Hansen, 38. The Norse tale (by Asbjoernsen) 
 is referred to, MMusine, ii. 201. I have not seen it. Analogous tale in 
 Ireland, Ant., xlv. 371. 
 
 3 Tylor Essays, 138. Roscher (EphialUs, 38) thinks it was "a quite 
 obvious nightmare." 
 
1 64 RITUAL AND BELIEF 
 
 traditions of the water-kelpie current in his native Scot- 
 land. Take one story told by Dr Gregor concerning a 
 water-kelpie who used to come out of the stream and 
 visit the sheeling where a certain blacksmith's family 
 and cow spent the summer. His visits, as was natural, 
 caused terror and annoyance. At last the wife told the 
 husband, who resolved to kill the creature. The wife 
 took fright at the proposal and tried to dissuade him, 
 under the fear that the kelpie would carry him off to his 
 pool. He was deaf to her appeals. Preparing two long, 
 sharp-pointed spits of iron, he repaired to the sheel- 
 ing. He made a large fire on the hearth, and laid the 
 two spits in it. In a short time the kelpie made his 
 appearance as usual. The smith waited his opportunity, 
 and with all his might drove the red-hot spits into the 
 creature's sides. It fell on the ground like a heap of 
 starch.^ 
 
 In this case the kelpie was killed. More numerous 
 are the tales in which he approaches a traveller in the 
 shape of a horse and induces him to mount ; then he 
 rushes to the pool, carrying the unwary man to his death. 
 Often, however, he can be caught and made to work, by 
 throwing over his head a bridle on which had been made 
 the sign of the cross. When this was done, the creature 
 became quiet and might be employed in labour needing 
 strength and endurance, like that of carrying stones to 
 build a mill or a farm-steading. When set free again, 
 he took his leave, repeating the words : 
 
 " Sehr back an' sehr behns, 
 Cairrit a' s' stanes." ^ 
 
 In Sweden the corresponding water-spirit — if that may 
 be called a spirit which, as in all these cases, is regarded 
 
 1 Gregor, 66. ^ Gregor, loc. cit. 
 
THE BOLDNESS OF THE CELTS 165 
 
 as essentially corporeal — is called the Neck, a word 
 connected with Hnikarr, the Old Norse appellation of 
 Odin regarded as a water-god, and with the Nicors, or 
 water-monsters referred to in Beowulf. The Neck is said 
 to appear in various forms. Sometimes he is a grown 
 man, and then " particularly dangerous to haughty and 
 pert damsels " ; sometimes he is a comely youth with 
 his lower extremities like those of a horse ; sometimes 
 he is an old man with a long beard ; occasionally a 
 handsome youth with yellow locks flowing over his 
 shoulders and a red cap, sitting in a summer evening on 
 the surface of the water with a golden harp in his hand. 
 In return for a black lamb he is not unwilling to 
 communicate his skill in music ; and if the ofFering be 
 accompanied by the expression of a hope of his salva- 
 tion, he is rendered especially gracious. For above all 
 things he longs for eternal happiness ; nor can deeper 
 distress be inflicted upon him than by denying this 
 possibility. A Neck who takes up his abode under a 
 bridge, or in a stream, is commonly called a StrOmkarl. 
 He usually plays not on the harp but on the viol. Near 
 Hornborgabro in West Gothland a StrSmkarl was once 
 heard singing to a pleasant melody these words thrice 
 repeated : " I know — and I know — and I know — that 
 my Redeemer liveth." He is acquainted with a measure 
 which, if played, will cause even inanimate things, as 
 trees and stones, to dance ; so powerful is his music. 
 
 But he appears in other forms. A favourite is that 
 of a horse, sometimes described as with hoofs reversed. 
 At Bohuus in West Gothland he was caught by means 
 of a cunningly contrived halter, from which he could not 
 break loose. His captor kept him all the spring and 
 made him plough his fields. Only when once the halter 
 accidentally slipped off was the Neck able to escape this 
 
1 66 RITUAL AND BELIEF 
 
 slavery. He sprang like lightning into the water, dragging 
 the harrow after him. The Neck also causes disease. His 
 appearance forbodes tempest. He haunts wells and must 
 be propitiated with offerings, or measures must be taken 
 to render him innocuous.^ 
 
 Without pausing to analyse the complex character 
 assigned to the Neck, it will be abundantly clear that he 
 belongs to the same category as the foregoing, and may 
 be subdued by similar means. To fetch parallels to the 
 spirit of the Jabbok from Scodand and Sweden may be 
 thought going far afield. It is going no farther than 
 Dr Frazer himself goes for examples of the custom of 
 propitiating river-spirits. The protest often uttered by 
 cautious anthropologists against those who would cast 
 the net so widely has its reason. When we are dealing 
 with customs it is well to remember that customs super- 
 ficially alike may spring from quite different social 
 organizations, and their real intentions may be divergent 
 or even opposite : in short, they may have nothing in 
 common but external resemblance. They cannot be 
 understood without taking into account the sequences 
 of which they are often part, and the social organization 
 and cultural condition from which they spring. It is 
 otherwise when those great products of human imagina- 
 tion that animate the world about us are concerned. The 
 personalities believed to haunt mountain and stream, 
 air and water, heaven and earth, are elemental conceptions, 
 the Inevitable offspring of the human mind in its inter- 
 course with nature. Analogies discovered between them 
 are real analogies ; they are the proofs of the essential 
 oneness of mankind in the snow-hut of an arctic winter 
 and the tree-shelter of a tropical forest. And when we 
 find the relations believed to exist between such personalities 
 ' Thorpe, N.Myth., ii. 78. 
 
THE BOLDNESS OF THE CELTS 167 
 
 and human beings, the need of their conciliation or 
 coercion in order to obtain benefits for their human 
 worshipper or antagonist, and the means taken for this 
 purpose, the same, with only such variations as may be 
 accounted for by differences of environment, then we 
 may with confidence appeal to them as mutually 
 illustrative. 
 
 For these reasons it would appear that we must regard 
 such tales as those of the kelpie and the water-bull of 
 Scotland and the Isle of Man, or the Neck of Sweden, 
 as illuminating the legend of Jacob's struggle at the ford 
 of the Jabbok. Professor Frazer rightly adduces as in 
 some degree analogous the story of Menelaus catching 
 the shy sea-god Proteus sleeping on the sands, and 
 compelling him to say his sooth, as Jacob compels the 
 angel to pronounce a blessing, and that of Peleus catching 
 and conquering the sea-goddess Thetis to be his bride. 
 Here we are reminded of a cycle of traditions found all 
 over the world, and known as the Swan-maiden cycle. 
 The heroine of the tale is a supernatural being, usually 
 in the form of a bird which casts its feathers like a robe 
 and becomes human. The hero, possessing himself of 
 the robe, acquires power over her and makes her his wife, 
 only to lose her again when she recovers it. As told 
 in Scotland and the adjacent isles, in the Faeroe Islands 
 and Iceland, the lady is a seal.^ It may be doubtful 
 whether Thetis was ever so represented ; but it is 
 certainly most suggestive that Proteus was discovered 
 sleeping among the seals. For it is not only for 
 matrimonial purposes that these supernatural beings are 
 caught in modern mclrchen. In a Tamil tale the hero 
 
 1 Hibbert, A Description of the Shetland Islands (Edinburgh, 1822), 
 569; Zeits. des Ver., ii. 15, 17; Rogers, 218; Lehmann-Filh^s, ii. 16; 
 Maurer, 173. 
 
1 68 RITUAL AND BELIEF 
 
 steals the dress of one of a band of divine maidens, 
 and thereby compels her to bring him a certain divine 
 parijata, or flower of the coral tree, which was demanded 
 by another lady as the price of her hand.^ In the Spanish 
 tale of The Marquis of the Sun, the Marquis is a great 
 gamester. A man who played with him lost all he had, 
 and then staked his soul and lost it. To get it back he 
 was advised to watch on the banks of a river. Three 
 princesses would come in the guise of doves, cast their 
 feathers and bathe. He was to take the dress of the 
 smallest and thus compel her to show him the road to the 
 Marquis her f3,ther*s castle.* It is true that both these 
 adventures do result in the hero's union with the bird- 
 maiden. Such union is, however, incidental. In a 
 Samoyed Swan-maiden story the heroine, captured in the 
 usual way, flings the hearts of herself and her husband, 
 as well as of other members of his family, into the air ; 
 and their owners in consequence remain neither living 
 nor dead. The husband's father's sister goes in search 
 of the hearts to the lake where the bride was captured, 
 and finds her six sisters there swimming as before. She 
 takes possession of the clothes of one of them, and thus 
 compels her to restore the hearts of her relatives.* So 
 the hero of a tale told by a tribe on Vancouver Island 
 is sent in search of his daughter, who has eloped with 
 a wolf. He sees a number of young wolves playing at 
 ball, having laid aside their mantles. He sets himself 
 down beside the mantles, and in this way putting their 
 owners to shame at being found naked, compels them to 
 bring him to his son-in-law's abode.* The mantles are 
 obviously the wolf-skins, laid aside to enable their owners 
 to appear in human form. 
 
 1 Natesa Sastri, 148. 2 ^m^ Trad. Pop. Espan., i. 187 
 
 2 Gastrin, 172. * Boas, Ind. Sagen, 86. 
 
THE BOLDNESS OF THE CELTS 169 
 
 Wolves are of course not water-spirits, like swans or 
 seals ; but they obey the same law as that imagined for 
 the latter. The man who seizes something which is at 
 once the symbol of their supernatural character and the 
 source of their power, renders them helpless and compels 
 them to his will. The contest is in these cases one of 
 trickery and determination, rather than of strength. The 
 captures of Proteus and of Thetis, however, seem to have 
 been effected by main force and a wrestler's skill. This 
 is often the case with the capture of mermaids in the 
 west of Europe. Hugh MiUer long ago translated into 
 literature a local legend of Cromarty which told how John 
 Reid captured on the shores of the Firth a mermaid, from 
 whom he extracted as a ransom the grant of three wishes, 
 including prosperity and union with the maiden of his 
 choice.^ Mermaid-stories thus agree with kelpie-stories 
 and with those of Proteus and the spirit of the Jabbok in 
 assigning victory to the strength and skill of the human 
 wrestler. 
 
 Water-spirits are not the only supernatural beings with 
 whom men are represented in story as matching them- 
 selves. The Lushei clans of Assam believe in various 
 demons that inhabit hills, streams and trees. They are 
 caUed Huai, those inhabiting the water being known as 
 Tui-huai, and those residing on the land as Ram-huai. 
 A certain sacrifice, generally of a big sow, is offered to 
 the Ram-huai. It is caUed Sakhua. One night, towards 
 morning, it is related, a Ram-huai appeared to a man 
 who had unwittingly neglected his Sakhua sacrifice. It 
 came into the straw where he was sleeping and wrestled 
 with him until daylight. Even then it followed him 
 and wresded with him again ; nor does the man seem to 
 have been loth. At last he conquered the Ram-huai, 
 ' MiWex, Scenes and Leg., 2^^. 
 
lyo RITUAL AND BELIEF 
 
 who then told him that his Sakhua sacrifice was over-due ; 
 and he performed it at once. Sometimes the Ram-huai 
 appears as a tiger and sometimes as a man. On this 
 occasion he seems to have been in human form.^ 
 
 Yet even in such a contest the skiU displayed may be 
 much more than a trick of jiu-jitsu. An example or two 
 will suffice. In the Wild Huntsman of Teutonic lands 
 anthropologists agree in recognizing traditions of the god 
 Woden. He is well known to the German rustic as 
 Wod. A tale from Mecklenburg represents a peasant 
 as encountering him one dark night in the form of a tall 
 man on a white horse. The peasant accepts the stranger's 
 challenge to pull against him, and grasps one end of a 
 heavy chain, while the stranger ascends into the clouds with 
 the other end. The peasant knows that, if he lose, he is 
 himself lost. He quickly twists the end around a stalwart 
 oak, and the Huntsman tugs in vain. A second and a 
 third time the contest is renewed, after he has persuaded 
 the stranger that he is holding the chain, and it is only 
 his own strength that is being put forth. The oak-tree 
 creaks and crackles to its roots, but finally holds its 
 ground. Wod owns himself vanquished, and rewards his 
 courageous antagonist with a share of his game — a haunch 
 of venison, which turns to a rich booty of gold and silver 
 ere he reaches home.^ We are indebted to Ovid for 
 another example. He teUs us how Numa by the advice 
 of Egeria entrapped Picus and Faunus, two ancient rustic 
 deities who were wont to drink of a certain stream. The 
 king tempted them by means of wine placed beside the 
 fountain ; and when they had fallen into the slumber of 
 intoxication he issued from his ambush and put them in 
 chains. As the price of freedom he compelled them to 
 bring down Jupiter from the sky, to give him the famous 
 
 I Shakespear, Lushei, 66. ^ Grimm, Teut. Myth., iii. 924. 
 
THE BOLDNESS OF THE CELTS 171 
 
 formula for averting the thunderbolt.^ Innocents like 
 these are of course easily caught with strong drink. In 
 Greek tradition Silenus, who as the son of a nymph 
 was described as of condition inferior to the gods, but 
 superior to mortals and to death, was not superior to some 
 mortal weaknesses. Indeed, he was notoriously convivial. 
 Hence he fell victim to a similar wile on the part of 
 Midas, the Phrygian king. Nor was he released before 
 he had revealed some astounding geographical and 
 ethnological information, that staggered the sceptical 
 ^lian when he found it placed on record in the now lost 
 pages of Theopompus.* 
 
 Such legends of contest are not confined to merely 
 second-rate personages like these subordinate or super- 
 seded divinities. When in the Iliad Diomed attacks and 
 wounds Aphrodite, she goes crying to her mother. Dione 
 by way of consolation recounts a list of Olympian gods 
 who have grievously suffered in fight with headstrong 
 and violent men. It includes Ares, Hera, and Hades, 
 all of them potent figures in Greek mythology. Ares 
 was bound by Otus and. Ephialtes, the sons of Aloeus, 
 and kept in durance vile for thirteen moons, until Hermes 
 came to his rescue. Even he, it seems, was obliged to 
 have recourse to secret means to steal him away. The 
 arrows of Herakles inflicted grievous wounds on Hera 
 and Pluto. And though naturally Dione denounces 
 untimely death as the penalty for such presumption, the 
 injuries received in the conflict are not all on one side.* 
 Odin himself fights more than once in the Scandinavian 
 lays and sagas against human antagonists. Nay, if 
 M. A. J. Reinach's interpretation be accepted, Jacob's 
 
 ' Ovid, Fasti, iiL 285. 
 
 2 Pausanias, i. 4, 5 ; Ovid, Metam, xi. 90 ; Herod., viii. 138 ; yElian, 
 Var. Hist., iii. 18. ' Iliad, v. 370 sgq. 
 
172 RITUAL AND BELIEF 
 
 opponent at the ford of the Jabbok was no other than 
 " Elohim in person." The growth of religious feeling, on 
 this theory, found this coarse representation abhorrent ; 
 and while the incident, being part of the sacred legends, 
 could not be ignored or repudiated, it was so altered as to 
 obscure its real significance.^ 
 
 However this may be, tales like these are echoes of 
 belief in the possibility of a successful corporeal struggle 
 with the mysterious powers. They are blurred memories 
 of the practice of threatening and even attacking what we 
 call supernatural beings under their material manifesta- 
 tions. Those beings were conceived, if not always in 
 human form, at least as human in their wills and passions, 
 hence in their motives and modes of action. The only 
 way in which they differed from humanity was in their 
 vaster and undefined powers. They were, to adopt 
 Matthew Arnold's phrase, magnified, non-natural — that 
 is to say, mysterious — men.^ Thus conceived, they were 
 accessible to every sort of influence that affected mankind, 
 including coercion. But it took a bold man to coerce 
 them, though the task might be attempted upon occasion, 
 even by ordinary mortals — not always with success. 
 Sometimes the contest is of a more distinctly intellectual 
 character. The trial of musical skill between Apollo 
 and Marsyas will occur to everyone. The Egyptian 
 king called by Herodotus Rhampsinitus is said to have 
 penetrated to Hades and there played at dice with 
 Demeter. Varying fortune attended him ; but he was 
 so far successful that he returned with a golden hand- 
 kerchief, the gift of the goddess. And the Egyptians 
 
 1 R. E. E. S., i. 338. 
 
 2 As an example the Nattu Malayans of Cochin in the south of India 
 may be cited. " When questioned as to their ideas of gods, they say that 
 they are like men themselves, but invisible, yet all-powerful" (Anantha 
 Krishna, i. 34). 
 
THE BOLDNESS OF THE CELTS 173 
 
 still in the historian's time celebrated a feast in memory 
 of the adventure.^ 
 
 If we turn from legend to fact, we find the belief 
 translated into action, into the attempt to control the 
 supernatural by force. Thus did Xerxes when he lashed 
 the Hellespont and let down fetters into it, for destroying 
 the bridge he had endeavoured to build.^ Thus did the 
 ancient priestesses of the Canary Islands when rain was 
 too long in coming : they beat the sea with rods to 
 punish the spirit of the waters for withholding the boon 
 they needed.^ In the same way (the tale is probably at 
 least founded on fact), when the Nile had risen to the 
 height of eighteen cubits — higher than it had ever risen 
 before — Pheros, the son and successor of Sesostris, is 
 declared to have taken a spear and driven it into the 
 midst of the whirling waters. It is added — and here 
 we have a testimony to the recognition by the ancient 
 Egyptians of the awful divinity whom the king had 
 thus challenged — that he was thereupon struck with a 
 disease of the eyes and made blind.* The vengeance 
 mentioned by Dr Frazer as taken by the Kakhyeen of 
 Upper Burmah points distinctly to the same intention. 
 " If some friend or relative has been drowned in crossing 
 a river, the avenger repairs once a year to the banks, 
 and, filling a bamboo vessel with the water, hews it 
 through with his dah [sword] as if he were despatching 
 
 ^ Herod., ii. 122. Gods, like men, were addicted to gambling. 
 According to Plutarch {De hide), Hermes in Egyptian legend played 
 with the moon and won the seventieth part of each of her light periods, 
 wherewith he made the last five days of the year and added them to the 
 calendar. 
 
 2 Herod., vii. 35. 
 
 3 B6renger-Feraud, Superst, i. 473. The author has collected in the 
 chapter from which this is cited numerous other instances of the punish- 
 ment of the recalcitrant god. 
 
 * Herod., ii. in. 
 
174 RITUAL AND BELIEF 
 
 a living enemy." ^ The Korwas of Chota Nagpur on a 
 similar occasion shoot arrows into the river.^ 
 
 After comparing these cases there can be little doubt 
 that the Celtic practice of fighting the waves reported 
 by iElian was not undertaken as a foolhardy piece of 
 presumption, but literally as a combat with a foe sus- 
 ceptible to such attacks, or (as the Irish text suggests) 
 a necessary proceeding in self-defence, lest otherwise the 
 sea should encroach upon the land. The orenda of the 
 land-dwellers was pitted against that of the waters. 
 
 The conclusion will be confirmed by considering a few 
 examples of the treatment of divinities other than those 
 of sea or river. The tribe of the Getai, the bravest of 
 the Thracians, were in the habit, during thunderstorms, 
 of shooting arrows up to the sky and threatening their 
 god. It is indeed not clear what god they threatened. 
 Usually it is understood to be the god Zalmoxis, pre- 
 eminently the god of the Getai. But he seems to have 
 been a chthonic divinity ; and as the text of Herodotus 
 stands they recognized no other god. The historian's 
 account of him is rationalized ; and there is reason to 
 think that he failed to grasp all the essentials of the 
 Getic religion : his own doubts on the subject are more 
 than hinted at. In shooting upwards, however, and 
 uttering threats, the Getai must have menaced some 
 being conceived more or less in personal terms. This 
 is sufficient for our present purpose.^ The Atarantes, 
 who dwelt ten days' journey from Mount Atlas, in like 
 
 ' Williams, Burmah, 91. 
 
 " Jnd. Cens. Rep., 191 1, x. 61. 
 
 ^ Herod., iv. 94. Rohde (Psyche, ii. 28 note) suggests that the personage 
 against whom the arrows and threats were aimed was not strictly a god, 
 but an evil spirit or a magician. This, however, does not follow. Philo 
 {I.e.) states that Xerxes, when his bridge across the Hellespont was 
 destroyed, aimed his arrows at the sun, and regards the action with pious 
 horror as a symptom of insanity. 
 
THE BOLDNESS OF THE CELTS 175 
 
 manner cursed the sun when he was at his height and 
 reviled him with all manner of foul terms, because he 
 oppressed both themselves and their land by his burning 
 heat.^ Among the Bayaka of the Kasai district in the 
 Congo State it is common to hear people running about 
 at night and shouting insults to Moloki, a malignant 
 spirit who has made them ill, or caused the death of a 
 relation.^ The Bechuana, on the great central plain of 
 South Africa, ascribe changes of weather to the influence 
 of the manes of deceased members of the tribe. They 
 are called by the generic term Barimo, of which the 
 singular form, Morimo, was adopted by the early mission- 
 aries to translate God ; and it is now frequently used 
 with that meaning. When hail damaged the crops, or 
 rain fell unseasonably, MofFat tells us, Morimo would 
 be cursed in the vilest language. " Would that I could 
 catch it, I would transfix it with my spear ! " exclaimed 
 in the missionary's hearing a chief whose judgement 
 on other subjects would command attention.^ On the 
 occasion of an earthquake a traveller saw the Bakwena 
 women in an instant rushing out of their huts, with 
 clubs and hoes in their hands, holding them up at the 
 sky, and cursing God with most awful imprecations 
 and demoniac yeUs." The proceedings of the Zulus, 
 neighbours of the Bakwena, during a thunderstorm were 
 thus described by a native to Bishop Callaway : " When 
 it thunders the doctors go out and scold it ; they take 
 a stick and say they are going to beat the lightning of 
 heaven. They say they can overcome the lightning. 
 They shout and take shields and sticks ; they strike on 
 their shields and shout. And when it clears away again 
 
 1 Herod., iv. 184. * /. A. I., xxxvi. 51. ' Moffat, 261, 265. 
 
 ^ Chapman, i. 213. The word translated by Chapman as "God" is 
 doubtless Morimo. Cf. ibid., 46, "All Bechuanas believe in God 
 (Morimo), whom they laud or execrate as good or bad luck attends them." 
 
176 RITUAL AND BELIEF 
 
 they say, ' We have conquered it.' They say they can 
 overcome the heaven." ^ The Hottentots curse the 
 thunder and shoot their poisoned arrows at the lightning, 
 telling him to be oiF. Some of them, however, adopt 
 a milder course, assembling to dance and sing an in- 
 cantation. Two specimens of these incantations have 
 been preserved. The thunder is thus addressed : 
 
 "Son of the Thunder- cloud. 
 Thou brave loud-speaking Guru ! 
 Talk softly, please. 
 For I have no guilt ! 
 Leave me alone (Forgive me) ! 
 For I have become quite w^eak ( = 1 am 
 
 quite stunned, perplexed). 
 Thou, O Guru, 
 Son of the Thunder-cloud ! " 
 
 The other incantation is addressed to the lightning. 
 It is a dramatic performance, the lightning being played 
 by one person, the chorus representing the appeal of the 
 inhabitants of the kraal. 
 
 Chorus. 
 " Thou, Thunder-cloud's daughter, daughter-in-law^ of the Fire ! 
 Thou wrho hast killed my brother ! 
 Therefore thou liest now so nicely in a hole ! 
 
 Solo. 
 
 (Yes) indeed, I have killed thy brother so well ! 
 
 Chorus. 
 
 (Well) therefore thou liest (now) in a hole. 
 Thou who hast painted thy body red, like Goro ! 
 Thou who dost not drop the menses. 
 
 Thou wife of the Copper-bodied man (the mythical ancestor 
 of the Hottentots) ! " ^ 
 
 1 Callaway, Rel. Syst, 404. 
 
 2 Hahn, 46, 5 1 , 59, 94. Cf. 99, where the practice of the Urjangkut, a tribe 
 of Black Tartars, to scold the thunder and lightning is cited from Bastian. 
 
THE BOLDNESS OF THE CELTS 177 
 
 Perhaps the sex of the lightning here may render it 
 more amenable to the softer arts of persuasion. The 
 Bushmen used to look steadily at the quarter whence 
 the lightning came. They believed its object was to 
 kill them by stealth, and that if they looked towards it 
 they would cause the thunderbolts to turn back. It 
 appears, they said, " to fear our eye, when it feels that 
 we quickly look towards it. . . . Therefore it goes over 
 us ; it goes to sit on the ground yonder, while it does 
 not kill us." ^ In other words, they believed themselves 
 so powerful that the lightning quailed before them and 
 did not dare to strike. Among the Nandi, a Nilotic tribe 
 of East Africa, it is the duty of the Toiyoi, or Thunder- 
 clan, when a heavy thunderstorm occurs, to seize an axe 
 and, having rubbed it in the ashes of the fire, to throw it 
 outside the hut, crying out : " Thunder, be silent in our 
 village ! " ^ Among their neighbours (but not kinsfolk), 
 the Wawanga, an old man was recently found by a govern- 
 ment official to have stuck a curious-looking spear in an 
 ant-hiU in his village to drive off the hail.* 
 
 Similar practices are found in the less advanced cultures 
 of the New World. The Hurons of Canada were in the 
 habit of sticking their javelins into the ground point 
 upwards. The explanation they gave, as reported by 
 the Jesuit Father, was that the thunder had intelligence, 
 and it would, on seeing these naked javelins, turn aside 
 and be careful not to come near their cabins.* The 
 Salinans of California possess an amulet which will stop 
 the thunder, if it be held in the hand and pushed out 
 towards a thunder-cloud.^ The Guaycurus of Paraguay, 
 
 ^ Lloyd, 397. According to another account, "when it thunders the 
 Bushmen are very angry and curse bitterly, thinking that the storm is 
 occasioned by some evil being" (Thunberg, ii., 163). 
 
 2 HoUis, Nandi, 9, 99. ^ /. A. I., xliii. 49. 
 
 * Jes. Rel, xii. 25. * J. A. Mason, Univ. Cal. Pub., x. 185. 
 
 12 
 
1 78 RITUAL AND BELIEF 
 
 great and small, on the occasion of a great storm of wind 
 and rain, issued from their huts armed with clubs and 
 sticks, and uttering terrible cries, to fight with the 
 hurricane, persuaded that it was an attack on them by- 
 evil spirits, and that they must defend themselves without 
 showing cowardice.^ According to legends current at 
 the time of the conquest, " the hapinunu, or bosom-clutch- 
 ing spirits, who were believed to have been the original 
 occupants of the Peruvian valleys, were forcibly expelled 
 by the early human inhabitants, immigrants from the 
 country of the Guaycurus. When the ancestors of the 
 Incas arrived in the sierra 'from beyond Potosi' — that 
 is, from the Gran Chaco — these spirits, according to a 
 fragment of an ancient song which has been preserved by 
 an Indian writer, disappeared with terrible cries, saying : 
 
 ' We are conquered ! We are conquered ! 
 Alas, for I lose my lands ! ' " 2 
 
 The tribes of the Uaupes River in Brazil, after a 
 funeral, shoot into the air to chase away, and if possible 
 kill, the evil-disposed spirit which has caused the death.* 
 
 In tropical surroundings, separated from the Hurons 
 by nearly half the globe, by the whole breadth of the 
 Pacific Ocean and nearly the whole breadth of the 
 continent of North America, the Kai-folk of the Kai, or 
 forest hinterland of the south-eastern coast of German 
 New Guinea, adopt the very same measure as they for 
 protection against the storms. Like their surroundings, 
 their culture is widely different from that of the Hurons. 
 They dwell in frail cabins raised upon posts, in order to 
 secure them from the intrusion of their half-domesticated 
 swine and the attacks of the wilder animals. These huts 
 
 ' Lozano, Desc. Chorographica del Gran Chaco (1733), 71, quoted 
 Payne, i. 391 note. 
 " Payne, I.e. 3 /^^_ Arch., SuppL, xiii. 88. 
 
THE BOLDNESS OF THE CELTS 179 
 
 cluster on the mountain-side in tiny villages of from 
 two to six. Their framework is of wood, bound together 
 with tough lengths of a climbing plant. The walls 
 consist of long pandanus leaves ; and they are thatched 
 with leaves of the sago-palm, or with grass. It is obvious 
 that such feeble structures can offer little resistance to 
 high winds. Happily wind-storms are of rare occurrence ; 
 but when they do come they wield terrific force, splitting 
 or uprooting powerful trees. Against the onslaught of 
 such foes, which, it need not be said, are regarded as 
 personal beings, the Kai-folk have more than one means 
 of defence. They take one of the jawbones of wild beasts 
 which hang in the hut as trophies of the chase, put it in 
 the fire and pray the storm-spirit to accept the soul of the 
 deceased animal and spare the house. But they do not 
 rely on the chance of placating the spirit ; they oppose 
 him with threats and with weapons. They fasten a 
 pointed stake or spear before the windward side of the 
 house, its point turned to the wind, so that it will " prick 
 him in the belly," and thus compel him to leave the hut 
 in peace. Or they reply to each gust by striking the 
 threshold with a club or stone-axe, crying out : " If you 
 tread here on my house, I will smash your feet ! " ^ 
 
 Almost aU nations in the lower culture hold an eclipse 
 to be the attempt on the part of some evil-disposed being 
 to eat up or destroy the sun or moon. The custom of 
 terrifying and driving him away is too well known to 
 need illustration. 
 
 In these cases, though the supernatural being may be 
 out of reach, that does not hinder men and women from 
 pitting their orenda against his ; and as soon as the storm 
 
 1 Neuhauss, iii. 157. I may refer also to the account of a young Kayan 
 brave in Borneo taking his arms and sallying forth to fight the Thunder- 
 god (/«/. Arch., xxi. 139). But further examples are unnecessary. 
 
i8o RITUAL AND BELIEF 
 
 or the eclipse comes to an end they naturally vaunt their 
 success. In the form of wind indeed he may be held 
 to descend to actual blows with his human opponents. 
 Professor Frazer has collected a number of examples 
 of fighting the storm and the whirlwind.^ Nor are those 
 examples confined to such as already recounted. Even in 
 Europe eddies and gusts of wind are attacked without 
 hesitation by peasants, whether Scottish, Breton, German, 
 Slav, or Esthonian. A small whirlwind of the kind with 
 which we are all familiar is believed to be caused by a 
 witch, who is carried along unseen at its centre, and may 
 be revealed and rendered harmless by launching some 
 object, preferably a knife, into it. In the Tirol a knife 
 of special form is used for the purpose, on the blade of 
 which are engraved nine St Andrew's crosses and nine 
 crescent moons. It wounds the witch as surely as the 
 harpoon in the Basque tale cited at the beginning of this 
 essay.^ 
 
 Here and in many of the other instances the super- 
 natural being is regarded as actually hostile. At certain 
 stages of evolution there is, however, as little hesitation 
 in turning upon a god with whom one is usually on 
 terms of friendship and submission. We have had some 
 examples of this. A god may provoke a worshipper, and 
 human nature will not always put up with the provoca- 
 tion. When he is found in tangible shape as an idol his 
 
 1 Frazer, Magic Art, i. 327 sqq. 
 
 ^ Von Alpenburg, 262, 365. Many such knives are to be found in 
 peasants' houses in the Lower Inn valley. In the Netherlands these 
 whirlwinds are held to be " the Travailing Mother," who seems to be a 
 woman dead in childbirth unconfessed of mortal sin. She cannot be 
 received into heaven. She is equally denied a place in hell, since her 
 sufferings and death have already provided a sufficient penance. Hence 
 she wanders about, seeking an abiding-place (Wolf, Niederl. Sag., 616). 
 Women who die in childbirth are commonly considered very dangerous 
 ghosts. See below, p. 213. 
 
THE BOLDNESS OF THE CELTS i8i 
 
 aggrieved client may even resort to corporal chastisement. 
 Dr Farnell refers in this connection to the passage in the 
 seventh idyll of Theocritus, where the poet mentions the 
 whipping of the image of Pan with squills when food was 
 scarce, and to a Breton smith " who threatened the saint's 
 image with red-hot pincers to compel him to heal his 
 son."^ The two practices thus put together are not 
 strictly parallel. Originally at least they were widely 
 different in purpose, though they have some outward 
 resemblance. To beat the image of Pan with squills was 
 not to punish the god for neglect of duty, but to bring 
 him into touch with the powers of growth, to drive out 
 the barrenness that possessed him and to recreate his 
 fructifying forces. It was a magical means of restoring 
 his life-giving properties. It may have been to some 
 extent, like punishment, a relief to the feelings of the 
 beater ; but the chief object is unmistakably shown by 
 the ritual requirement to beat with squills.^ It would 
 seem, however, as if this had been forgotten by the time 
 of Theocritus ; for in the following lines (not cited by 
 Dr FarneU) the poet goes on to threaten stinging with 
 nettles in case of the god's recalcitrance, as if this were 
 the same sort of petty torment. 
 
 On the other hand, means are often taken, like those of 
 the Breton smith, to compel a god to grant his suppliant's 
 wishes, and in default to inflict indignity and injury. 
 Pietro deUa Valle tells in his Voyages of an image of Saint 
 Anthony which was thus treated by Portuguese sailors. 
 First of aU, prayers were addressed to the image for a 
 favourable wind. The wind not being forthcoming, the 
 
 1 FarneU, Evol., 43. Cf. Miss Harrison, Prolegomena, loi. 
 
 2 I have discussed similar practices. Prim. Pat, i. 102. See also 
 Mannhardt, Myth. Forsch,, \\2,sqq. ; Frazer, Scapegoat, 255. These con- 
 tain a large collection of examples, which put the magical and purificatory 
 purpose beyond doubt. 
 
1 82 RITUAL AND BELIEF 
 
 image was taken from its shrine and lashed to the mast, 
 in the beginning with comparatively slack cords. The 
 bonds were progressively tightened as the saint delayed 
 to accede to his worshippers' demands. They were not 
 in a mood to stand any nonsense. The image before 
 which they had knelt in prayer only a few hours earlier 
 was now the object of curses and derision ; and every 
 day the wind was delayed a new cord was added to bind 
 the sacred victim more tightly. At last, however, the 
 wind changed and blew from the quarter desired ; the 
 saint was loosed from his uncomfortable position and re- 
 placed respectfully in his niche ; the sailors thanked him, 
 but mingled with their thanks reproaches for the obstinacy 
 which had forced them to take severe measures with him.^ 
 Saint Anthony indeed suffers much from his votaries. 
 The Spanish population of New Mexico do not hesitate 
 to hang his image head downwards to urge him to his 
 duty of performing miracles. Other obstinate saints they 
 simply put away or imprison.* The modern Aztecs give 
 their sacred images a whipping when their prayers are not 
 attended to. The Tarascos of Mexico make San Mateo 
 responsible for the weather and the crops. When it 
 freezes his image is taken from the church in the early 
 morning and dumped into cold water as a punishment. 
 On the other hand, he is rewarded for good crops by a 
 procession, a big feast, and abundance of brandy and 
 tamales.^ 
 
 In France, near the village of la Selle, on the highway 
 from Autun to Chateau Chinon, is a granite rock, on the 
 top of which rustic piety has erected a Calvary. Just 
 below it is a little grotto that serves as a niche to shelter 
 
 1 Mdusine, ii. 187, quoting the passage. 
 ^ Joum. Am. F. L., xxiii. 416, 418. 
 ^ Lumholtz, ii. 342, 422. 
 
THE BOLDNESS OF THE CELTS 183 
 
 the statue of the good Saint Merri, the patron of the 
 parish. Saint Merri has a reputation extending far and 
 wide. Formerly on the stone at his feet might be seen 
 offerings of eggs and small change ; and even yet pilgrim- 
 ages are made to his ehrine in pursuance of vows or for 
 the cure of certain diseases. Among these, it would seem, 
 as the offering of eggs may indicate, he was expected to 
 cure sterility. It is related that a pious woman of a 
 neighbouring village was in the habit of coming to 
 implore the saint for her daughter, who had been married 
 for some years, but had had no children. She had 
 another daughter, who was not married ; and the saint 
 made a mistake : it was her unmarried daughter to whom 
 a child was granted. The good woman, enraged at a 
 blunder so inexcusable, returned to the saint. Bitterly 
 reproaching him with his mockery of her prayers, she 
 took a stick and inflicted on him a sound castigation, 
 breaking his arm and roUing him over on the ground, 
 where he long remained, a witness to his own unseemly 
 jest and her righteous indignation. The inhabitants at 
 last made a collection to buy a new saint, which is now 
 placed on a pedestal in the foreground of the grotto, 
 while the old and guilty saint is relegated shamefully to 
 a corner, and still bears the scornful title of the Weeper.^ 
 Corporal punishment of saints, otherwise than by 
 way of penance during their mortal life, has never 
 enjoyed official favour in any form of Christianity, how- 
 ever gratifying it may be to the feelings of disappointed 
 worshippers. So far as it is employed as a serious means 
 of compelling attention to the needs and prayers of 
 
 ' Rev. Trad. Pop., xi. 663. Vilmiki, the Indian epic poet, author of the 
 Rdmdyana, is said to have owed his birth to a similar blunder by a saint 
 who was the object of prayers by two sisters-in-law, and mistook the 
 maiden for the married woman (Harikishan Kaul, Ind. Certs. Rep., 191 1, 
 xiv. 131, citing Vaman Shiva Ram Apte's Sanskrit Dictionary), 
 
1 84 RITUAL AND BELIEF 
 
 their clients it is by no means confined to Christianity. 
 Savage and barbaric peoples do not hesitate to punish 
 their idols in this manner. The practice is reported 
 from the Southern Pacific to the frozen shores of the 
 Arctic Ocean in both hemispheres. Two or three 
 examples will suffice. The Eskimo who wander along 
 the inhospitable coasts of Ungava to the north of 
 Hudson's Bay are attended each by a guardian spirit, 
 often in the form of a doll carried somewhere about 
 the person. These spirits are not naturally benevolent. 
 They must be abundantly propitiated with offerings of 
 food, water and clothing, to induce them to confer 
 success and prosperity upon the man who may with 
 equal propriety be termed their master or their wor- 
 shipper. If the spirit prove obdurate and, like Saint 
 Anthony, reluctant to grant the needful assistance, its 
 owner sometimes becomes angry with it and inflicts a 
 condign chastisement, deprives it of food, strips it of its 
 garments, or even palms it oiF secretly on some unsuspect- 
 ing friend, to his discomfort or injury.^ When a chief dies 
 in the district of Ibouzo, on the Niger, without leaving 
 a son, his Ikengua, or domestic wooden idol of the god 
 of riches, is cut in two and flung away into the bush, 
 because it has procured no male descendant for its 
 worshipper.* A Brahman boy in India attended a 
 mission-school, and was selected to compete in a tennis 
 tournament. He and his two younger brothers had 
 each an image of Ganesa, which was kept in a shrine for 
 worship. Previous to the tournament the images were 
 taken out and solemnly threatened by the three brothers 
 with something very disagreeable if the eldest brother 
 lost the match. He lost it. The brothers returned 
 home, and carried out their threat by pitching the three 
 1 Turner, R. B. E., xi. 194. ^ M. Friedrich, Anthropos, ii. loi. 
 
THE BOLDNESS OF THE CELTS 185 
 
 images into the well at the back of the house. The 
 next day they sallied out and bought three new images 
 of the god to replace the old ones.^ The Paraiyans of 
 Southern India on the occasion of a drought invoke the 
 devata called Kodumpavi (wicked one). " The ceremony 
 consists in making a huge figure of Kodumpavi in clay, 
 which is placed on a cart and dragged through the 
 streets for seven to ten days. On the last day the final 
 death ceremonies of the figure are celebrated." It is 
 mutilated, and funeral rites are performed by the grave- 
 diggers. " This procedure is believed to put Kodumpavi 
 to shame," and to get her to induce her paramour Sukra, 
 who has neglected his duty, to stay the drought.^ If 
 this be so, it is evident that the figure is not identified 
 with the devata, and the punishment operates by the 
 mental rather than the corporeal annoyance inflicted upon 
 her. Japan affords an example of righteous indigna- 
 tion expressing itself in castigation which is passing, 
 or has already passed, into a spell. When the owner 
 of a tea-house is dissatisfied with the number of his 
 customers, the wooden pestle of the tub in which various 
 kinds of meal and salt are mixed for the preparation 
 of a certain dish is taken out and struck through 
 the uppermost paper panel of the door or window, so 
 that it falls on the floor with a crash. Out come the 
 people of the house armed with sticks, brooms, and so 
 forth ; and they scold and thrash the pestle, making 
 him responsible for the fewness of their guests. He is 
 bound and thrown into a chest. If shortly afterwards 
 the guests increase, the pestle is taken out of his prison, 
 his forgiveness is asked, and he is drenched with saki. 
 It is hardly necessary to observe that the pestle is a 
 phallic representative, and that the business of a tea- 
 • Anthropos, vii. 74. ^ Thurston, Castes, vi. 85. 
 
1 86 RITUAL AND BELIEF 
 
 house often extends to the entertainment of a guest 
 in more ways than one.^ 
 
 The practice, however, is so well known that it would 
 be waste of time to multiply illustrations. I will only 
 add that in the vaUey of the Nile, in the days when the 
 worship of animals, whatever its exact origin or meaning, 
 prevailed, the sacred beasts were carefully tended and 
 trained, and all their wants were provided for. In return 
 they were expected to grant their worshippers' wishes. 
 If they "could not or would not help in emergency 
 they were beaten ; and if this measure failed to prove 
 efficacious, then the creatures were punished by death ; 
 . , . and it was the priests themselves who condemned 
 and executed the sacred animal. Afterwards indeed they 
 sought to secure its immortality by the embalmment of 
 the body, thereby hoping to appease the wrath of the 
 god, lest he should avenge the killing of the creature in 
 which he had been incarnate." ^ There is such a thing 
 as carrying punishment too far, especially when you 
 cannot carry it far enough to put an end to a being of 
 indefinite but superhuman power, who will bottle up 
 his anger until he can catch you off your guard. This 
 inconvenience is incident to the theory evolved by 
 Egyptian syncretism that the sacred animals were 
 incarnations of the divinities. 
 
 Another method of dealing with a god or any super- 
 natural being is to bind and imprison him, if you can 
 catch him. This needs but a cursory mention here. 
 It has been dealt with at some length by Mr William 
 
 1 Dr H. ten Kate, Antkropos, vii. 396. Cf. Aston, Shinto, 189. 
 
 ^ Wiedemann, op. cit., 178. B6renger-Feraud, Superst., i. 451 sqq., 
 gives a long list of examples of punishments inflicted on the obdurate 
 divinity. See also Frazer, Magic Art, i. 296 ; Tylor, Prim. CuL, ii. 
 155-7, and the numerous authorities there referred to; Grimm, Teut. 
 Myth., ii. 767 note. 
 
THE BOLDNESS OF THE CELTS 187 
 
 Crooke, who has ingeniously suggested that the Homeric 
 story, already referred to, of the binding and imprison- 
 ment of Ares by Otus and Ephialtes owes its origin to 
 this practice.-^ In any case it is a common expedient for 
 the laying of a ghost. I was privileged to live for some 
 years in a house concerning which one of these ghost- 
 laying traditions was told ; and so far as my experience 
 goes the expedient was entirely successful. It is stiU 
 in use by medicine-men for delivering their clients from 
 the persecution of troublesome spirits. Among the 
 Bangala of the Upper Congo "sometimes the witch- 
 doctor will drive the spirit into a saucepan or calabash, 
 and either kill it or imprison it." ^ 
 
 Obviously the adage " First catch your hare " applies 
 here. The supernatural being cannot always be caught. 
 But he may be driven away. Dr Frazer has illustrated 
 very fully the widespread practice of expelling evils 
 considered as personal beings either periodically or 
 occasionally by ceremonies of violence or of enticement, 
 persuasion and magical spells.* The ancient Scandinavians 
 seem to have instituted solemn legal proceedings against 
 troublesome ghosts. There is a remarkable story in the 
 Eyrbyggja Saga of a number of malignant ghosts who 
 haunted the settlement at Frodiswater with disastrous 
 efFects to men and stores. The Christian priest sang 
 the hours there, manufactured holy water and shrived all 
 folk. This was not enough to disperse the ghosts, who 
 had audaciously come and sat by the fires, to the horror 
 of the survivors, and devastated the place with sickness 
 and misfortune. It was but the preparation for the 
 stringent measures to follow. The bed-gear of Thor- 
 gunna, the deceased stranger-woman who had started 
 
 1 F. Z., viii. 349. ^ Weeks, 271. 
 
 ' Frazer, Scapegoat, passim. 
 
i88 RITUAL AND BELIEF 
 
 the mischief, was burned. The ghosts were summoned 
 to a door-doom ; " and it was done in all matters even 
 as at a doom of the Thing : verdicts were delivered, 
 cases summed up and doom given." The ghosts attended 
 in obedience to the summons. As each was found guilty 
 he was sentenced to depart. "But as soon as the 
 sentence on Thorir Wooden-leg was given out, he rose 
 and said : ' Here have I sat while sit I might ' " ; and 
 thereafter he stumped out by the door opposite to that 
 before which the court was holding its session. Thus 
 they were banished one after another ; " and each arose 
 as the sentence fell on him, and all said somewhat at 
 their going forth ; but ever it seemed by the words of 
 each that they were all loth to depart." Last of all 
 judgement was given upon Thorod, the recently deceased 
 goodman of the house, " and when he heard it he stood 
 up and said : ' Meseems little peace is here ; so get 
 us all gone otherwhere ' ; and therewith he went out. 
 Then in walked Kiartan [the heir] and his folk, and the 
 priest bare hallowed water and the holy things throughout 
 the house ; and on the next day they sang all the hours 
 and mass with great solemnity ; and so there was an 
 end thereafter to all walkings and hauntings at Frodis- 
 water," ^ 
 
 What is important to observe here is the entire respect 
 paid by the criminal revenants to the formal and deliberate 
 decision of the society against which they had sinned. 
 They obeyed it as they would have obeyed it in their life- 
 time. In heathen times, out of which Iceland had scarcely 
 emerged, the Thing was the lawful assembly of the whole 
 community. Its doom outlawed those members who 
 were convicted of antisocial conduct, and such was 
 undoubtedly the conduct of the dead who returned to 
 ' Morris, ^r^, 151, 
 
THE BOLDNESS OF THE CELTS 189 
 
 harm the living. Though dead they were still members 
 of the society and subject to its laws. By those laws it 
 was their duty to abide in the howe, or grave-mound, 
 and thence watch over the well-being of the family, 
 receiving in return a cult. The authority of the Thing 
 extended to all matters interesting the community, 
 religious as weU as political, juridical and administrative. 
 Under Christianity, and the advancing civilization of 
 which it was a part, the religious authority was beginning 
 to be separated from its control, of which perhaps we 
 may see a hint in the narrative. But the religious 
 officials were acting in unison with the rest, though 
 hardly now as part of them. On the other hand, the 
 cult of the dead was no longer officially recognized. It 
 is improbable that it had ceased ; and assuredly the 
 defunct were still charged with the negative duty of 
 remaining quietly in the howe and abstaining from 
 all molestation of those whom they had left behind. 
 There may be some doubt as to the technical status 
 of the assembly which dealt with the case. If not a 
 local and subordinate Thing, it seems at least to have 
 been a properly constituted tribunal, proceeding in a 
 perfectly regular manner, and carrying in its decisions the 
 force of law. It had probably not yet become entirely 
 divested of spiritual jurisdiction, or at least of spiritual 
 prestige, which may indeed be taken to be sanctioned 
 and supported by the countenance and assistance of the 
 priest of the new religion. The ghostly transgressors 
 recognized its authority, the propriety of its procedure, 
 the justice and the binding character of its sentence ; 
 and however much they grudged it, they submitted. 
 
 It need not be said that more summary measures were 
 often taken with those who "walked" after death to 
 the inconvenience of the survivors. They consisted in 
 
I90 RITUAL AND BELIEF 
 
 digging out and destroying the corpse, or dealing with 
 it in a way similar to that used with vampires, which 
 are indeed one species of these troublesome visitors. 
 Examples are not uncommon in the Norse sagas, and 
 are plentiful in the folklore of the Scandinavian and other 
 countries. 
 
 An alternative to driving away the supernatural being 
 is to threaten and insult him. Of this I have in previous 
 pages given some examples. The ancient Greeks had 
 a technical term for formulae of this kind. They called 
 them Oewv avdyKai, compulsions of the gods. It will be 
 sufficient to refer to a few cases of insult employed by 
 different peoples in all seriousness, and often in the sacred 
 ritual. When a sacrifice is offered to the ancestral manes 
 by the Thonga of South-Eastern Africa on the occasion 
 of sickness in the family, they are told : " You are useless, 
 you gods ; you only give us trouble ! For although 
 we give you offerings, you do not listen to us ! We 
 are deprived of everything ! You [naming the ancestral 
 spirit who is addressed as the cause of the evil] are 
 full of hatred ! You do not enrich us ! All those who 
 succeed do so by the help of their gods ! " We are 
 informed that when some great misfortune is the occasion 
 for a special sacrifice, the request presented in the prayer 
 is preceded or followed by a ritual insulting of the gods 
 {manes). " There are two words used to designate this 
 curious part of the prayer : holobela, to scold the gods, 
 or rukatehy the real word for to insult." ^ Here it must 
 not be forgotten that the personages addressed are 
 
 ' Junod, 5. A. Tribe, ii. 368, 384. If Lactantius and the other writers 
 of antiquity who have mentioned the sacrifice to Hercules referred to by 
 Dr Frazer {Magic Art, i. 281) had given us the exact words and occasion 
 of the rite, we might perhaps find a similar explanation for it Both 
 that and the rite addressed at Cranganore in Southern India (ibid., 280) 
 to the goddess Bhagavati are at present very obscure. 
 
THE BOLDNESS OF THE CELTS 191 
 
 members of the family. It is true that they have been 
 divinized by death, but their family relationship has not 
 been dissolved. They have still their duties to perform, 
 as well as the survivors ; and if they neglect them a 
 family quarrel may reasonably be the consequence, as it 
 might in their lifetime. 
 
 This method of bullying divinities is well known in 
 India. A pair of examples from the extremities of the 
 peninsula will suffice. Parakutty is a debased form of 
 Vishnu (or perhaps it may be more correct to say an 
 aboriginal demon identified with Vishnu), worshipped by 
 some of the low castes in Cochin. The Nayadis are a 
 jungle tribe reputed to be skilful hunters. Parakutty is 
 supposed to aid them in hunting. When they fail to 
 get the expected game they abuse him for his ingratitude, 
 and for betraying the trust they have reposed in him. 
 He is also the favourite deity of the Parayans. A 
 Paraya magician is frequently called in to assist in 
 recovering stolen property. He invokes Parakutty for 
 the purpose. If the property be not recovered the 
 magician prays again, this time in a more indignant and 
 abusive form, and he thinks that then his object is sure 
 to be gained.^ In The Legends of the Panjab, Sir R. C. 
 Temple gives a long poem in which a woman in trouble 
 expresses her intention of cursing her patron saint Gorakh 
 Ndth for the misfortunes that have befallen her.'' In the 
 same spirit Charlemagne, in the romances, is made to 
 threaten God to throw down his altars and make the 
 churches with all their priests cease from the land of 
 the Franks.^ 
 
 Great and awful as gods may be, they are after all but 
 
 1 Anantha Krishna, i. 53, 76. 
 
 2 Temple, Leg. Panj., ii. 425. Cf. F. L., x. 406. 
 
 3 Grimm, Teut. Myth., i. 20, where other instances are also cited. 
 
192 RITUAL AND BELIEF 
 
 human. The most mysterious of them are conceived 
 in quasi-human terms. On the other hand, human beings 
 are often looked upon as gods and treated accordingly. 
 But then their treatment is simply that of powerful men, 
 men possessed of and filled with a greater or less degree 
 of mana, who therefore require to be handled gingerly, 
 like an unexploded bomb. Such a man-god, if a native 
 ruler or fellow-tribesman, can seldom be driven away ; 
 but he may, especially if his mana be suspected of de- 
 parting from him, be attacked and slain. To expound 
 this practice and the belief on which it is founded, or with 
 which it is bound up, Dr Frazer's great work. The Golden 
 Bough, has been written. The white man, like the gods, 
 is to peoples in the lower culture mysterious, powerful, 
 endowed with mana. To that extent he is the object of 
 wonder and fear, he is a god. Yet he may be fought 
 and overpowered, killed or driven away. Of the Bangala 
 in the Upper Congo basin we are told that before the 
 unknown and mysterious the native " is timid, fearful, 
 and very superstitious. He will regard you as a god, and 
 yet try to fight you ; he will superstitiously believe that 
 you have wonderful occult powers that can stop the rain, 
 cause pestilence and plagues ; and yet he will not attempt 
 to conciliate you, but he will savagely tell you to clear 
 out of his town and take your witchcraft elsewhere." ^ 
 
 So and not otherwise the savage treats his gods. 
 Where milder means avail not, and he can get his way 
 by rough treatment of the idols or other tangible forms 
 in which they are presented, he does not hesitate to use 
 physical force. As little will he hesitate to use guile to 
 eke out his inferior strength. It is but another manifesta- 
 tion of his orenda. Hence the tales of audacious heroes 
 
 ^ Rev. J. H. Weeks, /. A. I., xxxix. 134, reproduced in the same author's 
 
 Congo Cannibals, 176. 
 
THE BOLDNESS OF THE CELTS 193 
 
 who have measured their strength or their cunning 
 against more tremendous personages. Hence the threats 
 and insults addressed to powers beyond immediate reach 
 by peoples all over the world. Hence the punishment 
 inflicted on the images of gods and saints. Hence the 
 boldness of the Celts. 
 
 U 
 
THE HAUNTED WIDOW 
 
 According to the legend of Osiris as preserved for us 
 by Plutarch, the slain divinity accompanied with Isis, his 
 sister-wife, after his death, with the result that she had 
 by him a child whose name is given in Greek form as 
 Harpocrates.^ Doubt has been thrown by some Egypto- 
 logists upon the accuracy of Plutarch's report ; but it 
 is probably correct. At aU events the incident is fairly 
 widespread both in tale and superstition, as I shall proceed 
 to show. 
 
 Among the Chinese the dead of both sexes have always 
 been held capable of sexual intercourse with the living. 
 A favourite topic of Chinese tales is that of a belated 
 wanderer entertained by a liberal host or hostess and 
 passing the time in agreeable conversation, eating, drink- 
 ing, sleeping and sexual intercourse, and then suddenly 
 awaking to find himself or herself, as the case may be, in 
 or on a tomb, with no trace of human dwelling near. 
 Visits are paid by the dead to the living for various 
 purposes, from which the enjoyment of the pleasures of 
 married life are not excluded. One famous story con- 
 cerns a man of the Ma clan, who died childless, leaving 
 a wife who refused to marry again. In her sorrow she 
 
 1 Plutarch, De hide. Wiedemann (213) suggests that the Greeks mis- 
 understood the myth. But the text of the hymn which he quotes appears 
 to prove the accuracy of Plutarch's interpretation. This is in effect the 
 view taken by Dr Wallis Budge (Gods, i. 487). Harpocrates (Heru-p- 
 khart) is Horus the younger. 
 
 194 
 
THE HAUNTED WIDOW 195 
 
 caused to be made a clay image of the deceased and 
 offered something to it whenever she took a meal, as she 
 had done to her husband in his lifetime. One night the 
 image became animated, and telling her that he was her 
 husband permitted to return and solace her fidelity and 
 chastity, he passed the night with her, rising at cockcrow 
 and going away. The visit was repeated every night, 
 with the result that before the end of a month she had 
 conceived and in due time bore a son. Information was 
 laid before the magistrate and the woman was arrested. 
 On hearing her story the magistrate said : " I have heard 
 that the children of ghosts are shadowless, and that those 
 that have shadows are not genuine." He took the child 
 into the sunshine, and lo, its shadow was as faint as a light 
 smoke. He further tested it by pricking its finger and 
 putting the blood on the clay image of the woman's 
 husband, into which it soaked without leaving a trace, 
 whereas smeared on another image it was wiped off at 
 once. These experiments convinced the magistrate that 
 the woman's tale was true ; and all traces of suspicion 
 subsequently vanished when, as the boy grew up, he was 
 found closely to resemble the deceased in face, gesture 
 and speech.-^ 
 
 Gansam, a divinity worshipped by the Muasis and 
 Gonds of Bengal, is said to have been a Gond chief who 
 was devoured by a tiger just after his marriage at an early 
 age. " Cut ofF at such a moment, it was unreasonable to 
 suppose that his spirit would rest. One year after his 
 death he visited his wife, and she conceived by him ; and 
 the descendants of the ghostly embrace are, it is said, 
 living to this day at Amodah in the Central Provinces." 
 As a result of other apparitions to many of his old friends 
 he persuaded them to inaugurate a regular worship of 
 
 1 De Groot, Rel. Syst., iv. 429, 421, 342 ; Giles, ii. 276. 
 
196 RITUAL AND BELIEF 
 
 him, and two festivals in the year were established in his 
 honour.^ Not in all cases, however, do the deceased 
 husband's visits to his widow result in the birth of a 
 child. The legend of Zahir Pir, the saint of a Moham- 
 medanized caste of scavengers about Benares, relates that 
 he was involved in strife with his mother's sister's sons, 
 who disputed his succession to his father's kingdom, and 
 slew them. For this he was cursed by his mother never 
 to see her face again. In his anguish he called upon 
 Mother Earth to receive him into her bosom. On her 
 refusal, because, being a Hindu, he was not burnt, he 
 made a pilgrimage to Mecca and accepted Islam. After- 
 wards renewing his petition, the earth opened and dis- 
 closed a chapel as for a hermit. Zahir Pir entered on 
 his charger, and the earth closed above him and his 
 devotions. Siryal, his widow, reduced with his mother 
 to poverty, mourned him and cried : " Mother Earth, 
 give me back my husband ! " By God's command the 
 earth yielded him up to visit her nightly ; but every 
 morning at daybreak he flew away on his winged charger. 
 Siryal had discarded her jewels as became a widow when 
 she lost her husband. Now that she received these secret 
 visits she resumed them as a matron. When her mother- 
 in-law upbraided her, saying : " What means this wanton 
 finery ? " she returned : " To thee thy son is dead : to 
 me my husband is alive." In explanation of the riddle 
 she placed her beneath the bedstead at night that she 
 might see her son. But when Zahir Pir came at mid- 
 night his aged mother had fallen into a deep sleep, which 
 was undisturbed by the caresses above her ; nor was it 
 until he had quitted the bed and vaulted into the saddle 
 that Siryal could rouse her. She started up and clutched 
 his bridle. Even then her curse prevented her from 
 
 ' Dalton, 232. 
 
THE HAUNTED WIDOW 197 
 
 seeing her son's face. " I do but obey thy bidding," he 
 groaned, turning his face away. " Look back ! thy house 
 is burning."^ So among the Calmucks we hear of a 
 khan who, being married to a wife whom he did not 
 love, resorted to a girl living a little distance away. His 
 visits resulted in her pregnancy ; but before the birth 
 of her child he died. Death does not prevent him from 
 carrying her off to his funeral rites, nor from afterwards 
 paying her marital visits on the fifteenth of every month, 
 and spending the night with her, disappearing in the 
 morning. When she urges him to stay, so that his 
 mother may see him and be convinced of her truth, he 
 gives her directions to go to the place of the dead and 
 fetch his heart. This she accomplishes, and thus recovers 
 him as her husband permanently.'' The islanders of the 
 East Indian Archipelago are profoundly convinced that 
 various kinds of spirits can have similar intercourse with 
 human beings. The spirits of the dead are not excepted 
 from this belief ; and albinos are held to be their offspring 
 by a living mother. A famous priest-king of the Toba- 
 bataks, called Singa Mangaraja, owed his birth to this 
 cause.^ 
 
 A story is told by the Dene (Athapascans) of the 
 northern provinces of Canada concerning a man who one 
 night suddenly disappeared from his wife's side, and in 
 the morning, in the ashes of the hearth, were found the 
 cloven footprints of a reindeer : he had been transformed. 
 
 1 M Ind. N. and Q., iii. 97, par. 205. 
 
 ^ Jiilg') 96 (Story No. 9). Compare children's tales from various parts 
 of India, where the hero or heroine's life is dependent on a necklace which 
 is stolen. The owner of the necklace dies when it is worn by the thief, 
 and revives when it is taken off. The birth of a child follows visits by 
 the other spouse. By the child's help the necklace is recovered, and 
 permanent life is thus restored to the half-dead, half-living hero or heroine 
 (Frere, 230 (Story No. 20) ; Day, i (Story No. i) ; Steel and Temple, 85). 
 
 3 Kruijt, 398, 509 ; cf. 230. 
 
198 RITUAL AND BELIEF 
 
 His wife was an adept in magic. By its aid she became 
 an expert hunter, and after the loss of her husband 
 supplied the family, consisting of her mother and little 
 son, with food. As her son grew up, he in turn hunted 
 and successfully snared reindeer. One day he caught a 
 reindeer with human hair between its horns. He brought 
 its carcase to his mother, who had constantly mourned 
 her husband. She at once recognized the dead reindeer 
 as her husband. Lying down along with it, the animal 
 revived and once more became man. Thus she recovered 
 the husband whom she had loved, and for whom she 
 had so long sorrowed. The story is aetiological, told to 
 explain why so many reindeer are caught with snares 
 made of magical bonds of pine-root, and why certain 
 parts of the reindeer are not eaten.^ 
 
 Plutarch mentions that Harpocrates was born lame, 
 that is to say, with his lower limbs feebly developed, and 
 interprets this as a parable of the new corn with its tender 
 and imperfect shoots. We find, however, that the off- 
 spring born of the unnatural connection with a dead man 
 is represented as being as remarkable as the manner of 
 his generation, and not infrequently monstrous. We 
 have seen that the Toba-bataks thus account for the 
 birth of an albino. A story told by the Transylvanian 
 Gypsies concerns a girl named Mariutza of the Chale 
 tribe, the daughter of a wealthy chief. She loved a youth 
 named Jarko, to whom her father refused to give her. 
 Her brothers caught her in his arms one night, and 
 slew him. They killed one of their father's horses and 
 buried it with him in a grave on the edge of the forest, 
 spreading the report abroad that he had fled and would 
 never return to the tribe. She was not a witness of his 
 death, and did not know what had become of him. One 
 
 ' Petitot, 262. 
 
THE HAUNTED WIDOW 199 
 
 night, unable to sleep, she went out of the tent, sat down 
 beside a brook and wept bitterly, crying aloud : " Oh 
 that I could once more see him, dead or alive ! " Hardly 
 had she uttered the words when she heard the ring of a 
 horse's hoofs, and her lover galloped up on a white steed, 
 his clothing covered with blood and his hair with icicles. 
 He took her up ; and the steed made off to the grave, 
 where he lay down with her in his arms. She rested 
 thus in her lover's arms until day began to break, when 
 he sent her back to her tent, charging her to cease from 
 disturbing his rest any further with her tears. As she 
 hurried away the grave closed. After nine months she 
 bore a great stone that flew from tent to tent until it met 
 her brothers, and, striking them on the head, hurled 
 them both dead to the ground. Then it disappeared ; and 
 when folk came to look for Mariutza, she too lay dead 
 on her bed.^ In a modern Icelandic tale a youth and 
 maiden love one another, but are prevented from marry- 
 ing. The youth dies, but after death visits his beloved 
 by night. An old woman in whom she confides compels 
 the dead man to confess. He tells her that the girl is 
 pregnant, and will bear a son who will surpass all men in 
 beauty and intellect, and will become a priest ; but unless 
 someone be found bold enough to stab him in the breast 
 during his first mass, the church will sink into the earth 
 with all the people in it. It was done ; and the young 
 priest disappeared, leaving behind on the floor of the 
 church nothing but three drops of blood.^ 
 
 In Brittany a story is told with much circumstance of 
 place and name, relating how a peasant-farmer of the 
 village of Keranniou died, leaving a wife much younger 
 
 1 Von Wlislocki, Volksdicht.,i%y 
 
 2 Maurer, 300 (cf. 192). A Protestant version is given, Lehmann- 
 Filli6s, i. 132. 
 
200 RITUAL AND BELIEF 
 
 than himself and seven children. After death he re- 
 appeared as ghost, and played a variety of tricks. At 
 length his widow found herself pregnant, and, seeking 
 the priest, confessed with tears that the deceased had lain 
 with her several times, insisting that he had been sent 
 back by God because he had not had his full tale of 
 children. The duty of bringing into the world one's 
 allotted number of children, it may be observed, is a motive 
 in many of the grimmer Breton stories. As her condition 
 became visible the neighbours taunted the unfortunate 
 widow ; but the priest took her part openly in the 
 church. A child was born, but without eyes. The 
 ghost appeared again, and took far more interest in it than 
 in any of the children born during his lifetime. The 
 child was extremely precocious, but lived only for seven 
 months. When it died the dead man's ghost was seen 
 to accompany the funeral procession. From that hour 
 he was never beheld again ; and the villagers said he had 
 been waiting for the babe to lead him by the hand to 
 Paradise.^ A similar incident is found as far away as 
 among the Bella Coola of the British Columbian fiords. 
 There a husband and wife who were devoted to one 
 another made vows of mutual fidelity, even after the 
 death of either of them. The husband died ; and his 
 body was placed, as was usual, in a little dead-hut. The 
 widow wept bitterly, entered the dead-hut and lay down to 
 sleep beside the corpse. In her dreams she saw him once 
 more alive. He begot upon her a child, which was born 
 after the lapse of a fortnight. It was not like other 
 children, for it consisted only of a head without a body. 
 The widow was unwilling to exhibit such a mqnster ; but 
 her mother did not rest until she was allowed to take it 
 in her arms. When she saw what it was she let it fall 
 • Le Braz, 321, Story No. 60. 
 
THE HAUNTED WIDOW 201 
 
 in terror. The head sank into the earth and disappeared 
 from view.^ 
 
 Cases like these suggest that Plutarch's view of the 
 crippled condition in which Harpocrates was born is not 
 to be accepted. It does not necessarily follow that the 
 interpretation of Osiris as a deity of vegetation, adumbrated 
 by the philosopher and adopted by Professor Frazer, is 
 wholly incorrect. We are in error if we suppose the 
 myth of Osiris to be one and self-consistent. The myths 
 of Osiris were innumerable. The realm of Egypt was 
 formed by the union of a number of small independent 
 states or communities. Each of these communities had 
 its own customs, institutions, beliefs, mUrchen. Many 
 stories told, whether for serious credence or by way of 
 pastime, in every district were doubtless common to all 
 Egypt. But probably even they had their local variants ; 
 and these variants must often have been irreconcilable. 
 The phenomenon is familiar. It is abundantly exemplified 
 in the tales of the Greek and Scandinavian mythologies. 
 In Egypt, however, the formation of a strong central 
 authority, and the consequent growth and maintenance 
 during many ages of a powerful and educated priesthood, 
 were among the influences that led to a persistent attempt 
 to unify and explain the principal divine myths, to attach 
 them to the various local and periodical solemnities already 
 observed from time immemorial, and to educe from the 
 jumble something like a system, a philosophy. Whether 
 in this process an originally independent myth had become 
 united with a series of agricultural rites, or whether a 
 myth previously annexed to such rites had acquired an 
 independent existence by virtue of a higher inspiration, 
 
 1 Boas, Ind. Sag., 267. Compare a curious Tlingit story of a girl who 
 married a dead man (ghost), who in consequence came to life again 
 (Swanton, Tlingit Myths, 247). 
 
202 RITUAL AND BELIEF 
 
 matters not to us. The story of Osiris is found on the 
 Egyptian monuments in a number of frequently discon- 
 nected texts, of which there is no authoritative canon. 
 Among those texts the exact status and meaning of the 
 Harpocratian episode is probably a subject on which the 
 Egyptians themselves would have been unable to agree. 
 We can hardly be wrong in indulging our scepticism at 
 the expense of Plutarch's interpretation, though he may 
 simply have reported it as it was given to him. The 
 parallel tales, whether of Europe or America, at least are 
 purely human. They yield no trace of vegetable sym- 
 bolism. They are founded upon impulses and beliefs 
 that have all over the world influenced the conduct of 
 men towards the supernatural. 
 
 It was a common belief in antiquity, and thence through 
 the Middle Ages and right down, among the uneducated 
 classes, to modern times, that dead men and other super- 
 natural beings might have intercourse with living women. 
 Upon this belief and the innumerable tales connected 
 therewith was founded Btirger's famous ballad of Lenore} 
 The story told by Herodotus of the paternity of Demaratus, 
 King of Sparta, is an early example. Demaratus, being 
 accused of not being the son of his predecessor, Ariston, 
 adjured his mother in a solemn ceremony to tell him the 
 truth. Her account was that, on the third night after 
 her marriage to Ariston, an apparition in his likeness and 
 wearing garlands came to her, and, having embraced her 
 in conjugal wise, transferred to her the garlands it wore 
 and departed. Ariston, coming in afterwards, saw the 
 garlands and asked who had given them to her. She 
 told him he had done so himself ; and when he denied 
 
 ' The ghostly visitant might be of either sex, though the masculine was 
 perhaps more common. The visit was generally attended in either case 
 with fatal effects. See below as to Latnics. 
 
THE HAUNTED WIDOW 203 
 
 it she confirmed it with an oath. Ariston then began to 
 suspect divine interference. On making enquiry it was 
 found that the garlands were from the adjacent temple 
 of the hero Astrabakus ; and the diviners identified the 
 apparition with the hero himself. In that night Demaratus' 
 mother became pregnant of him.-^ Satyrs and Fauns, 
 under the name of incubi, were generally held to be 
 guilty of criminal assaults upon women when oppor- 
 tunity offered. Among the Gauls, we are told by Saint 
 Augustine, this kind of evil spirit was known as Dusii ; 
 and their constant exploits, as well as those of the Silvans 
 and Fauns, were so well attested that to the great 
 ecclesiastic it seemed it would be impudent to deny 
 them."^ 
 
 Incubi were identified by later theologians with 
 devils ; and their embraces were almost always an item 
 in the accusation against witches before a legal tribunal. 
 When offspring resulted, it was naturally a monster. 
 The romance of Merlin, born of such a connection, born 
 grisly to sight and rough and not as other children, was 
 cited as a fact by the credulous writers of those days on 
 witchcraft and demonology.^ 
 
 ' Herodotus, vi. 68, 69. 
 
 ^ Augustine, Civ. Dei, xv. 23. 
 
 ^ Malleolus, De Credul. Daemon, adhibenda. Malleus Maleficarum 
 (Frankfurt, 1582), 428. See also Bodin, De Magorum Dcemonomania 
 (Frankfurt, 1603), ii. 7. By this time, however, there began to be sceptics. 
 Cf. Wierus, De Prcesti^iis Damonum (Basel, 1 577), 358 ; Ulr. Molitor, 
 De Pythonicis Mulieribus, Malleus Jilal., 83. The extensive information 
 possessed for many centuries by these learned men was not limited to the 
 incubus. There were also corresponding female demons commonly known 
 as Succubi, or Lamice, whose ravages were almost equally great. Awful 
 tales were related by way of warning against their temptation. Compare 
 ih&putiana of the Moluccas, cited below. See also Lecky, Rationalism, 
 i. 26 note. Among the ancient Assyrians and the modern Arabs the 
 possibility of cohabitation by a man with a spirit or non-human super- 
 natural being, who may even bear him children, was and is believed. But 
 they are very jealous (Encyc. Rel., iv. 571 ; F. L., xi. 388). 
 
204 RITUAL AND BELIEF 
 
 According to Bulgarian belief a ghost against which 
 proper precautions are not taken may cause, especially in 
 the winter, much annoyance. Such ghosts may even 
 have sexual intercourse with women. As lately as the 
 year 1888, at the village of Orzoja, the death of a certain 
 girl was attributed by the people to this cause.^ A 
 Ruthenian story represents a dead husband as haunting 
 his wife every night for a whole year. Whether he 
 actually came to conjugal intercourse does not appear. 
 However that might have been, he gave her no rest 
 from his bodily attacks. Worn out, she sought for help 
 against him, and was advised to take poppy-seed to bed 
 with her, to fasten upon her head a large bowl, and to 
 light a taper. When the dead man came as usual she 
 threw the poppy-seed in his face, as she had been pre- 
 scribed. He asked in a tone of surprise who had given 
 her this advice. By way of answer she threw more. In 
 a fury the dead man flung himself upon her, by main 
 force tore the bowl from her and took to flight, apparently 
 convinced that he had torn ofF her head. The door 
 banged after him so violently as to split from top to 
 bottom ; and in the morning the bowl was found some 
 distance away, smashed to pieces. But the woman was 
 delivered from her tormentor from that hour.* 
 
 Sir Walter Scott's novel. The Pirate, was based on the 
 deeds and capture of one John Gow. This man was 
 taken prisoner in the Orkney Islands and afterwards 
 tried before the High Court of Admiralty in London, 
 condemned for piracy and executed. Before his capture 
 he had become affianced to an Orcadian girl. " It is 
 
 ' Strausz, 454. 
 
 2 Bartels, quoting Wladimir Bugiel, Zeit. des Vereins, x. 121. Appa- 
 rently the throwing of the poppy-seed imposed on the ghostly visitant the 
 necessity of counting the grains before proceeding to his attack. See 
 Andree, i. 8 1 ; Wilken, iii. 226 note, citing Mannhardt. 
 
THE HAUNTED WIDOW 205 
 
 said," writes Sir Walter in the advertisement prefixed 
 to the book, " that the lady whose afFections Gow had 
 engaged went up to London to see him before his death, 
 and that, arriving too late, she had the courage to request 
 a sight of his dead body ; and then, touching the hand 
 of the corpse, she formally resumed the troth-plight 
 which she had bestowed. Without going through this 
 ceremony she could not, according to the superstition 
 of the country, have escaped a visit from the ghost of 
 her departed lover, in the event of her bestowing upon 
 any living suitor the faith which she had plighted to the 
 dead." ^ In the Orkney Islands these superstitions were 
 then vivid. If we may judge by a phrase in the record 
 of a witch-trial at Kirkwall, it was the belief in the early 
 part of the seventeenth century that a man slain at the 
 going down of the sun remained neither living nor dead, 
 but was capable of sexual intercourse with any woman who 
 would yield herself to him ; in return for which he gave 
 " a guidly fe," in the shape of second sight and power 
 of divining the future.^ A circumstantial and horrible 
 account of a series of occurrences of the same period in 
 Iceland is given by contemporary authorities. A man 
 of position named Ivar Eyjulfsson was wedded to Herdis, 
 daughter of Sera Magnus Jonsson of Ottrardal. They 
 lived at ReykjarfjOrd on affectionate terms ; and the 
 husband often prayed his wife in case of his death not 
 to marry again, or something untoward would happen. 
 In the year 1604, despite foreboding dreams during the 
 whole of the previous winter, he went to sea with four 
 companions. On taking leave of his wife and father-in- 
 
 1 Scott goes on to refer to the old Scottish ballad of Sweet William's 
 Ghost, founded, like that of Burger's poem, on the same superstition. It 
 is reprinted, with an account of the literature on the subject, in Child, 
 Ballads, ii. 199 sqq., 226 sqq. ; v. 293, 294. 
 
 2 Black, 113. 
 
2o6 RITUAL AND BELIEF 
 
 law as if he never expected to see them again, he reiterated 
 his injunctions to her to remain single. A quarrel arose 
 at sea between Ivar and one of his companions named 
 Jon ; the boat foundered, and Ivar, Jon, and another 
 of the crew were drowned. The bodies came to shore at 
 Langardal, and were buried in the churchyard there. On 
 digging the grave an older grave, lying in heathen fashion 
 north and south, was found ; and just where the breast 
 of the corpse lay was a great stone, and beside it an 
 iron arrowhead. This incident seems to have been 
 regarded as having some connection with the spooks which 
 were subsequently manifested. Whatever that connection 
 may have been, it speedily began to be noised abroad 
 that Ivar and Jon " walked," and that their quarrel was 
 far from being ended with their death. After a year 
 or two of widowhood Herdis was courted by an honour- 
 able man, one Sturla Gottskalksson, and on her father's 
 advice consented to marry him. Already, however, she 
 had been suffering from an ulcer on the foot ; and after 
 she had given her consent to Sturla it became worse. 
 Nor was this all. One night her first husband came 
 to her bed and had intercourse with her. Another night 
 she struggled with him, seizing the coverlet with her 
 teeth to protect herself from him. One disaster followed 
 another. A black blister on her tongue burst and 
 sloughed away half of that member. In spite of all, 
 the formal betrothal took place ; but it was followed 
 by such an exhibition of ghostly fury that even Sturla 
 wished to withdraw, and only Sera Magnus' firmness 
 in insisting on the wedding prevented the engagement 
 from being broken off. When the wedding was 
 solemnized, no sooner had the vows been spoken in 
 the church than Herdis uttered a piercing cry, and those 
 of the company who, being Sunday-born children, had 
 
THE HAUNTED WIDOW 207 
 
 the gift of seeing spirits beheld Ivar's ghost approach 
 her. Such was the horror and confusion that the 
 ceremony had to be cut short, and the newly wedded 
 pair left the church without the customary prayer and 
 blessing. The persecution was repeated every time that 
 Sturla attempted to consummate the marriage, until even 
 ordinary folk who were not ghost-seers saw how the ghost 
 waylaid the unfortunate Herdis. Recourse was had to 
 a renowned practitioner of supernatural arts, who by his 
 incantations succeeded in making things somewhat quieter 
 in the house ; but after awhile matters were as bad as 
 ever, and his spells ceased to be eiFective. Sometimes 
 Ivar appeared alone, sometimes with Jon, and then both 
 were usually in fierce contest. If the word of God were 
 read they slunk out of the house ; as soon as the reading 
 was over they returned. Herdis was again subjected to the 
 dead man's assaults ; and the magician could only protect 
 her by setting on her lap a woman holding upright a 
 naked blade of steel. At length the ghost attacked the 
 magician himself, and, blowing in his mouth, caused him 
 a frightful ulcer in the neck ; so that he was compelled 
 to leave the place, declaring that he could not cope with 
 all the devils that followed Ivar's ghost. Herdis sought 
 refuge in a chapel, but in vain. She returned home, 
 therefore ; and shortly after, on a Sunday morning, a 
 loud crash was heard ; her bed had broken down, and 
 two of its timbers had fallen to the ground. That was 
 the culmination of the ghostly persecution. The un- 
 happy woman breathed her last. The magician said, 
 when he heard of it, that the ghost had strangled her. 
 Then he did what, by all the rules of the ghostlayer's art, 
 he ought to have done before. Venturing back to Sturla's 
 house, he ordered Ivar's grave to be opened. Ivar's 
 body and that of Jon were found undecayed, but right 
 
2o8 RITUAL AND BELIEF 
 
 evil to look upon. They were disinterred and burnt, and 
 with that all manifestations came to an end.^ 
 
 This narrative is not an ordinary saga, located indeed 
 at a specified place, but the events of which are told of 
 an indefinite past, or are clustered in a manner known to 
 all students of folklore round a celebrated name. It is 
 quite distinguishable in character from the Icelandic tale 
 I have mentioned on a previous page. It was soberly 
 reported in the year 1606 by persons of credit, if also of 
 credulity, according to our standard, while most of the 
 actors and a number of persons who had more or less 
 acquaintance with the facts were yet living ; it was related 
 as something which had occurred not within their recollec- 
 tions at some distant date, but quite recendy. The 
 ghostlayer whose services were called in survived until 
 the year 1647, and was well known in the island. The 
 account therefore discloses the kind of horrors that in 
 that age, as in earlier ages, witness the Heimskringla and 
 various sagas, enlivened the long gloom of an arctic 
 winter. Foremost among those horrors may be reckoned 
 the belief that dead men still, in some circumstances at 
 any rate, retained their sexual instincts, and attempted, 
 not in vain, to gratify those instincts upon living women. 
 
 Indeed, communities boasting themselves of the culture 
 and progress of the twentieth century have not entirely 
 discarded the terrors born of some such belief. I do 
 not refer to solitary cases of mania,^ such as are probably 
 to be found in all communities from time to time, but 
 to cases in which the belief has been adopted by society 
 
 1 Maurer, in. 
 
 2 For example, the notable case of the foundress of a new and popular 
 religion, who was said to be haunted after the manner of Herdis, to her 
 great annoyance and terror. But even her deluded followers felt bound 
 to draw the line somewhere, and they seem to have drawn it at this 
 obsession. 
 
THE HAUNTED WIDOW 209 
 
 at large and stamped with the collective approval, or at 
 least acceptance. This may be said to be done when a 
 court of law, in the course of a judicial investigation, 
 admits evidence of haunting and solemnly gives judge- 
 ment based upon such evidence. 
 
 On the 1 6th February 19 12, at Macon, Georgia, in 
 the United States of America, the second husband of a 
 lady was actually granted a decree of divorce on the 
 ground that the ghost of her first husband haunted both 
 his wife and himself, and the difficulty was so great that 
 it was utterly impossible for them to live together. It was 
 not of course given in evidence that the ghost committed 
 assaults, such as those we have just been considering. 
 The advance of civilization since the seventeenth century 
 has softened the manners even of ghosts. But it was 
 stated that the wife had promised her former husband 
 that she would not marry again ; she violated the promise ; 
 and it was solemnly testified in court that the first 
 husband's spirit appeared nightly with groans and re- 
 proachful glances, and only ceased to do so when the 
 lady left her new husband.^ In our country a luckless 
 husband would find that the posthumous jealousy of his 
 predecessor in the minage is no ground for divorce. Since 
 the days of the witch-trials our courts have remained 
 unmoved by ghostly perturbations. They have even 
 been known to refuse assistance to the tenant of a haunted 
 house. But Europe is efFete. 
 
 In the lower culture it is otherwise. The Ewhe of 
 Togoland believe in the possibility of conjugal intercourse 
 and other communion between a dead and a living spouse ; 
 but when it takes place it results in death to the survivor. 
 Stringent measures are therefore adopted to prevent it. 
 These measures are all the more necessary, since the 
 
 ^ Daily Chronicle, 17th February 1912. 
 
 14 
 
2IO RITUAL AND BELIEF 
 
 survivor must during the period of mourning — in which 
 all the danger seems to be concentrated — lay aside all 
 clothing and ornaments and go entirely naked. A widow 
 for the first six weeks has nothing to fear so much as her 
 deceased husband. She must remain all that time in the 
 hut beneath which her husband is buried, only leaving 
 it for short intervals to bathe and for other necessary 
 purposes. In token of mourning she goes with bowed 
 head and eyes bent down, crossing her arms over her 
 breast so that the left hand rests on the right shoulder, 
 in order that " no mischief befall her from the dead man." 
 She also carries a club to drive him away in case he 
 wish to approach her, otherwise there would immediately 
 be an end of her.^ She sleeps, moreover, on the club, 
 because, if she did not, he would take it away from her 
 unperceived. Ashes must be mingled with her food and 
 drink to prevent her husband from partaking of it — a 
 sign probably of the renewal of conjugal life — in which 
 case she would die. She must not answer any call, must 
 eat neither beans, nor flesh nor fish, drink neither palm- 
 wine nor rum ; for any infringement of these prohibitions 
 would cost her life. Smoking is the only solace per- 
 mitted to her. During the night a charcoal fire is kept 
 up in the hut ; and upon this fire she strews a powder, 
 consisting of peppermint-leaves dried and rubbed down, 
 and red pepper, so as to cause an evil-smelling smoke, 
 which makes the dead man — it would make any living 
 man — averse to entering.^ After the death of his wife 
 
 1 Among the Ngoulango or Pakhalla of the Ivory Coast a widow carries 
 a piece of fetish wood which has the power to cause death to anyone who, 
 attempting to approach her, is touched with it (Clozel, 363). It is probably 
 effectual also against the ghost. 
 
 * Globus, Ixxii. 22 ; Ixxxi. 190. Compare a custom of the Minas of the 
 Slave Coast, Frazer, /. A. I., xv. 85 note. The Kagoro of Northern 
 Nigeria are also reported to believe in the possibility of sexual connection 
 by ghosts with women (J. A. I., xlii. 159). Major Tremearne marks this 
 
THE HAUNTED WIDOW 211 
 
 a man, in some districts at all events, must remain for 
 three days in his hut and abstain from intercourse with 
 his other wives. At the expiration of this period the 
 women of the town assemble and wash him with medicine 
 prepared by the witch-doctor. Without this precaution 
 none of his other wives would dare to come near him, 
 lest they too should die.^ 
 
 Before passing to another cultural area we may note 
 two other significant customs in Togoland. Weddings 
 there, as elsewhere, are occasions of festivity ; and the 
 firing of guns is doubtless an expression of joy and 
 triumph, for the Negro delights in noise. Even when, 
 among the Akposso, in the administrative district of 
 Atakpame, a man succeeds in seducing a married woman 
 away from her husband into his own house, he fires a 
 gun, for he says : " I have now a new wife ! " With that 
 the marriage is concluded, and he gives a great feast and 
 defies the former husband, who sometimes attempts to 
 recover her by force. But if the former husband be 
 dead he fires no gun on marrying the widow.^ On 
 the other hand, when a man's wife dies in her house 
 the husband fears to enter it again, and it is usually 
 destroyed. Even where it is not destroyed, it is never 
 again entered by the widower or any of his relations 
 or dependants. Only a stranger not belonging to his 
 
 belief as doubtful ; but it accords with that of other peoples. The pungent 
 smoke of red pepper is used in exorcisms by the Tigre of Abyssinia 
 (Littmann, 310, 311). 
 
 * Zeits. V. Rechtsw., xxvii. 85. A widow remains four months in her hut, 
 subject to a corresponding taboo. Among the Negroes of Surinam, before 
 a widow or widower marries again, an offering of food and drink must be 
 made to the ghost in order to obtain permission for the new marriage. 
 The new spouse will be considered as belonging, even if not actually so 
 belonging, to the family of the deceased. The widow or widower may 
 not leave the house for three months, nor do any work {ibid., 395, 394). 
 
 2 Ibid., XXV. 99 sgg. 
 
212 RITUAL AND BELIEF 
 
 family may dare to dwell there. If the widower take 
 a new wife, he builds her a new house.^ To build a 
 new house for a new wife is usual ; what is important 
 to observe here is that the old house in which the 
 deceased wife dwelt may be safely inhabited by a 
 stranger, and only by a stranger. 
 
 Precautions like those of the Togo are taken by 
 widows in Loango. All the openings in a widow's hut 
 are closed, and a spell is laid on every place where the 
 ghost might harbour. But that is not enough. What 
 she fears is that her deceased husband, or some other 
 disembodied spirit greedy of her society, will visit her 
 by night. That would result either in her death, or in 
 her bringing some fearful monster into the world. So 
 the medicine-men prepare for her, according to the 
 rules of their art, a piece of wood wherewith to fasten 
 the door by way of bar or bolt ; or they give her a 
 fringed cord to stretch behind, and another to stretch 
 round, her bed, both of them of course enchanted. 
 More than this, the door of the hut is changed to 
 another side, further to mystify the unwelcome revenant. 
 If she be very nervous they lead her in the darkness 
 by a roundabout way to another hut, carefully erasing 
 her footsteps, unless they carry her or make her wear 
 shoes that will render the traces unrecognizable. Besides 
 that, they furnish her with a magical stafF to embrace 
 when she goes to sleep. Sometimes at least it is carried 
 in daylight also. One would think such precautions 
 would daunt the most evil-designing ghost. If any 
 ghost, however, were so obdurate, or so conceited of his 
 
 ' Zeits. V. Rechtsw., xxv. 107. The Fo Negresses in Togoland also 
 fear to be haunted by their deceased husbands, who may kill them, or 
 at least drive them mad. But this is said to be only when they have 
 neglected them during life {Anthropos, vii. 307). 
 
THE HAUNTED WIDOW 213 
 
 power to break down these defences, as to persist, he 
 would find they were mere outworks, and that there were 
 stronger and more effectual lines behind. The witch- 
 doctors are not easily beaten — provided they have a client 
 who is willing and able to pay the enhanced cost of 
 their services. Without going into all the details of 
 what is in effect a war to the bitter end against the 
 intrusive ghost, it may be said generally that they will 
 give him no rest ; they wiU beat the dwelling inside and 
 outside with their conjuring implements ; they will sweep 
 the courtyard clear ; they will leave no corner where the 
 poor wretch can skulk ; they will lay spells ; they will 
 hunt him through the village with beating, with sweeping, 
 with fire, with the discharge of guns ; they will rouse 
 the whole population to their assistance ; they will lay 
 bombs laden with magical virtue ; they will stretch 
 magical cords across every path leading to the village. 
 If, in spite of all these boisterous proceedings, the 
 ghost be so hardy or so clever as to continue haunting 
 the place, there wiU be nothing for it but to remove the 
 village, or to catch the supernatural enemy and to shoot 
 him dead beyond resurrection. But this is obviously 
 an extreme measure, to which it is seldom necessary 
 to resort, and which can only be undertaken by a 
 specialist of the first rank and at a corresponding 
 cost. The ghosts of deceased men are, in Loango, 
 scarcely more to be dreaded than those of women 
 dead in childbed, or of marriageable girls. The former 
 are especially dreaded by pregnant women and married 
 men, for their vengeful malice. The latter attack 
 married men in their sleep, or seduce them under 
 varied forms ; and to yield means impotence or death.^ 
 
 ' Pechuel-Loesche, 308 sqq. The ghosts of women who have died 
 in childbed are frequently the objects of dre^d in areas far apart. The 
 
214 RITUAL AND BELIEF 
 
 A litde further to the south, beyond the Congo, it was 
 the custom in Matiambo for widows to sacrifice them- 
 selves, together with the slaves of the deceased, who were 
 sent to accompany their master into the other world. 
 Widows who neglected to do so, and who escaped 
 victorious from the ordeal for witchcraft, felt the soul 
 of the departed spouse oppressing their breasts ; and the 
 witch-doctor was required to purify them before they 
 ventured to contract a new marriage.-^ The process of 
 purification is not described, but is probably like that 
 reported by a missionary who has spent many years on 
 the Congo. The widow must go to a running stream, 
 taking her husband's bed and one or two of the articles 
 he has commonly used. These are all placed in the 
 middle of the stream ; and after she has well washed she 
 sits on the bed. The witch-doctor dips her three times 
 in the water and then dresses her ; the bed and other 
 articles are broken and thrown down the stream to float 
 away. She is led out of the stream ; a raw egg is broken, 
 and she swallows it ; a toad is killed, and some of the 
 blood rubbed on her lips ; lastly, a fowl is killed and 
 hung by the roadside — presumably a sacrifice to the 
 deceased. She returns to her town. On arriving there, 
 
 belief is common in the East Indian Archipelago (see Wilken, iii. 224 
 sgrgr.). Such a ghost is called by the inhabitants of the Island of Serang, 
 in the Moluccas, Putiana. She appears after death as a great white bird, 
 or else as a beautiful woman with fragrant clothing, who attacks pregnant 
 women, or seduces and then with her long nails emasculates men. The 
 most elaborate precautions are taken against her (Riedel, 112). Among 
 the Shans of the Upper Chindwin Valley, Burma, the husband feigns 
 madness, and undergoes a special purification {F. L., xxiii. 470). 
 
 ' Bastian, San Salvador, 100. Among the Fans, further to the north, 
 as Frazer notes (Balder, ii. 18, quoting W. L. Priklonsky in Bastian's 
 Allerlei aus Volks- und Menschenkunde), at the end of the mourning 
 ceremonies the widows are purified by passing over a lighted brazier and 
 sitting down with leaves still burning under their feet. Their heads are 
 then shaved, and they are shared between the heirs of the deceased. 
 
THE HAUNTED WIDOW 215 
 
 she sits on the ground, stretching out her legs before 
 her, and her deceased husband's brother steps over them. 
 She is then free to marry again ; but inasmuch as widows 
 are not allowed to marry for a year or two after the 
 husband's death, the rite is most likely not performed 
 until the end of that period. It is only necessary after 
 the death of a first husband. Corresponding ceremonies 
 are necessary for a man after his first wife's death. He 
 may not leave his house, except at night, for six days, 
 and he must sleep only on a basket made by plaiting 
 together two palm-fronds. He then undergoes a similar 
 purification to that just described, with some additional 
 precautions. On returning home his deceased wife's 
 sister steps over his legs. No woman would dare to 
 marry him until these rites are performed.^ Although 
 they do not seem to be confined to cases in which op- 
 pression by the ghost is endured, it is fairly certain that 
 their object is to get rid, not merely of the death-pollution, 
 but of the ghost. We shall see directly what is the mean- 
 ing of the ceremonial stepping over the survivor's legs. 
 
 Meanwhile let us cross the continent to Delagoa Bay. 
 The neighbourhood of Delagoa Bay, together with a 
 large extent of country to the north in Portuguese and 
 across the border in British territory, is occupied by 
 various branches of a Bantu people frequently known as 
 Shangaans, but which it is convenient to call the Thonga, 
 a name proposed by M. Henri Junod, a Swiss Protestant 
 missionary. The tribe more immediately around the Bay 
 is called the Baronga. The rites of purification practised 
 by the Thonga on difFerent occasions — among others, 
 notably after a death — are very remarkable, and indicate 
 a considerable preoccupation with sexual matters. These 
 rites have been carefully described by M. Junod, but 
 ' Rev. J. H. Weeks, Folk-Lore, xix. 430 ; xxi. 463. 
 
2i6 RITUAL AND BELIEF 
 
 they have not yet been sufficiently studied to enable 
 us to pronounce on the meaning of them aU. I shall 
 therefore only refer to one or two. 
 
 The death-pollution affects not merely all who come 
 into contact with the corpse ; it aiFects the entire kin, and 
 indeed the whole of the village in which the deceased 
 resided, whether related to him or not. But it affects 
 especially his wives, and among these his principal or 
 " great " wife. Like the grave-diggers who have been 
 handling the corpse, she is required to take a sweat-bath. 
 She is required, moreover, to fumigate herself over a fire 
 of dry grass from the roof of the hut, mingled with cock's 
 dung (not hen's). A reed or a strip of palm-leaf with a few 
 other leaves suspended to it is then put round her waist. 
 She enters the hut, which has been already unroofed, 
 wailing to her deceased husband, and crawls out again by 
 the hole at the back made to remove the corpse, as if she 
 were herself a corpse. She cannot remain there. A new 
 hut is therefore built for her ; and there she must after- 
 wards sleep, until the days of her purification are accom- 
 plished and she passes into the possession of her husband's 
 kinsman to whom she is assigned. Even for the sub- 
 ordinate wives (who have their own rites of purification to 
 observe) it would be dangerous to sleep on the very ground 
 where they have been accustomed to meet the deceased : 
 hence their huts must also be removed. It is difficult 
 to understand what danger they are exposed to, unless it 
 be assaults from the ghost. The huts they occupy do not 
 seem to be polluted, at least beyond the general pollution 
 of the village, or they could not continue to occupy them. 
 But the sites must be changed ; and this can hardly be 
 for any other purpose than to mystify the ghost.^ 
 
 ' Junod, R. E. S., i. 162 ; z'd. The Fate of the Widows amongst the 
 Ba-Ronga, reprinted from the report of the South African Association for 
 
THE HAUNTED WIDOW 217 
 
 Turning now to two other widely separated cultural 
 regions, we will first of all notice a significant article of 
 dress worn by a widow in the eastern islands of Torres 
 Straits. The ordinary dress of a woman comprised in- 
 variably a petticoat (sometimes more than one) of ample 
 size, extending from the waist to the knee or thereabouts, 
 and made of split leaves or bark-fibre. But a widow, and 
 she alone, " twisted up a petticoat of banana leaves, and, 
 passing it between her legs, fixed it at her waistband. 
 This was the first sign of widowhood," and had a special 
 name. It was put on as soon as the preliminary 
 ceremonies had finished, and prior to the removal 
 of the body for the purpose of mummification. The 
 widow continued to wear it after she had discarded 
 every other sign of mourning, and until she married 
 again.^ In the Mekeo district of British New Guinea, 
 inhabited by a population consisting, so far as has been 
 ascertained, of a fusion of Melanesians and Papuans, the 
 lot of a widower is not a happy one. So closely is he 
 haunted by the ghost of his deceased wife that he becomes 
 a social outcast, shunned by everyone, and loses all civil 
 rights, such is the horror he inspires. Excluded thus 
 
 the Advancement of Science, 1908 (Grahamstown, Cape Colony, 1909), 5. 
 It is fair to say that another and somewhat more popular account by M. 
 Junod states : " The night [after the burial] has come. All the widows 
 sleep in the open, their huts, which belonged to the deceased, being taboo. 
 If it rains, they sleep in other huts of the village" {S. A. Tribe, i. 145). I 
 do not know how to reconcile these two statements. I have adopted that 
 which M. Junod has twice affirmed, the articles in the R. E. S. being 
 particularly detailed and precise. Among the northern dans of the 
 Thonga, he tells us (^. A. Tribe, L 150) that the first night of mourning 
 " everyone \scil. in the village] sleeps in the open." 
 
 1 C. S. Myers and A. C. Haddon, Torres Sir. Rep., vi. 153, 158, 160 ; 
 Haddon, ibid. {iqi2), iv. 60. In the Murray Islands "the ghost of a 
 recently deceased person is particularly feared ; it haunts the neighbour- 
 hood for two or three months." But whether it specially attacks the widow 
 the members of the expedition do not seem to have learned {ibid., vi. 253). 
 The peculiarity of the dress, however, speaks for itself. 
 
ai8 RITUAL AND BELIEF 
 
 from communion with his fellow-men, he skulks alone in 
 the long grass and the bushes ; for he must not be seen. 
 He invariably carries, like the Ewhe widow, a tomahawk 
 to defend himself against the dreaded spirit of his departed 
 spouse, who, we are told, would do him an ill turn if she 
 could. This may, to be sure, as the missionary to whom 
 we are indebted for the report presents it, be no more 
 than the natural malignancy of the dead, whose chief 
 delight is to harm the living.'^ The missionary, however, 
 may not have penetrated the true inwardness of the 
 superstition. At all events, elsewhere there is no room 
 for doubt. 
 
 Among the Indians of the Thompson River in British 
 Columbia both widows and widowers took elaborate 
 precautions against the persecution of their deceased 
 spouses. Directly death occurred the survivor went out 
 and passed four times through a patch of rose-bushes, 
 doubtless to ensure that the spirit should not cling to him 
 or her. Probably for the same end ablutions in the creeks 
 morning and evening for a year were prescribed. Rigid 
 abstention from certain kinds of food was part of the 
 discipline ; and, contrary to the practice of the Ewhe, 
 tobacco was also forbidden. During a whole year the 
 survivor was required to sleep on a bed made of fir- 
 branches, on which rose-bush sticks were also spread at 
 the head and foot, while in the middle were not only 
 rose-bush sticks, but also branches of bearberry, mountain- 
 ash, juniper, sage, and so forth. A widow could neither 
 lie or sit where her children slept, nor let them lie down 
 
 ' Frazer, Taboo, 144, citing Father Guis, Zw Afmzowj' Catholiques{\<^oi), 
 xxxiv, 208. Among the Abarambo of the Congo basin, north of the Wele 
 the husband or wife disappears in the bush for a time, the latter until she 
 finds a new husband. The widow or widower blackens the face, binds a 
 cord round the waist, wears nothing but an old garment and only eats 
 raw food (Johnston, Grenfell, ii. 650). 
 
THE HAUNTED WIDOW 219 
 
 on her bed. Finally, a widow often wore a breech-cloth 
 made of dry bunch- grass for several days, that the ghost 
 of her husband should not have conjugal intercourse with 
 her.^ The aborigines of Hispaniola also believed that 
 the dead walked in the night and entered into converse 
 with living people, even in their beds ; but if we may 
 trust Peter Martyr, though in human shape they thus 
 approached women, seeking sexual intercourse, " when 
 the matter cometh to actual deede," suddenly they 
 vanished away.^ Our information concerning this un- 
 fortunate people, speedily destroyed by the Spaniards, is 
 extremely meagre ; and we do not know whether any 
 precautions were taken against these ghostly visits. 
 Among the Tarahu mares of Mexico three great feasts 
 are given at intervals after a death. Until the last of 
 them is held the deceased hangs about the neighbour- 
 hood. Their object therefore is to get rid of the ghost. 
 To that end he is presented with gifts and adjured to 
 depart with them, and not to come and disturb the 
 survivors. At the second, and especially at the third 
 feast, ceremonial races are performed, in order to chase 
 him away. Hikuli, the sacred plant of the Tarahumares, 
 plays a prominent part in these festivities, for it " is 
 thought to be very powerful in running off the dead, 
 chasing them to the end of the world, where they join 
 the other dead." The third feast, the most elaborate of 
 all, is deemed to be at last efFectual. Not until it is over 
 " will a widower- or a widow marry again, being more 
 afraid of the dead than are the other relatives. " ^ It is 
 
 1 Teit,/es. Exped., i. 332. Compare the Bella Coola tale cited above 
 (p. 200). 
 
 2 Peter Martyr, The Decades of the New World, in Arber, 100. 
 
 3 Lumholtz, Unk. Mexico, i. 384 sqq. Four feasts are given for a 
 woman. " She cannot run so fast, and it is therefore harder to chase her 
 off." 
 
220 RITUAL AND BELIEF 
 
 not expressly stated what their fear is ; but in the light 
 of other examples it is perhaps not unreasonable to 
 suspect that it arises from jealousy on the part of the 
 deceased. 
 
 At all events I have shown that among the Negroes on 
 the northern shore of the Gulf of Guinea, among the 
 Bantu about the Lower Congo, and among the Indians 
 of the Thompson River in British Columbia, the fear is 
 seriously entertained that the deceased will seek a renewal 
 of conjugal intercourse, and the utmost precautions are 
 taken to prevent it. The precautions taken by the 
 Baronga (also a Bantu tribe) in South-East Africa, and 
 by some Melanesian peoples of the Torres Straits Islands 
 and the mainland of New Guinea, strongly suggest the 
 same fear. The ancient inhabitants of Hispaniola 
 attributed sexual desires to the dead, though they do 
 not seem to have believed in the possibility of their 
 accomplishment ; and the Tarahumare husband or wife 
 is afraid to marry again until the deceased spouse has 
 been finally driven away from the society of the living 
 to herd with the other dead at the end of the world. It 
 is very striking that the populations of areas so widely 
 different in race and culture, as well as so far apart in 
 space, as some of these, should display the identical 
 terror exhibited in the tales and superstitions cited from 
 ancient and modern Europe and from China. The story 
 of the generation of Harpocrates, though related of a 
 god, points to similar ideas in ancient Egypt ; and it has 
 its analogues in India and the East Indian Archipelago. 
 
 Practices exist, moreover, in other countries that seem 
 to bear witness to the same terror, though the terror 
 itself is not recorded. In such cases they may be indirect 
 evidence of its existence. The practices I refer to are 
 such as that among the Kikuyu and Anyanja in East- 
 
THE HAUNTED WIDOW 221 
 
 Central Africa. The former are a tribe Bantu in speech 
 and mainly Bantu in blood and custom, though mingled 
 with other elements. On the third day after the burial 
 of a husband the elders assemble at the village to kill 
 a ram. This ceremony has the effect of cleansing the 
 village at large " from the stain of death " ; but some- 
 thing more is needed by the widow. Accordingly " the 
 elders bring with them one of their number who is very 
 poor, and of the same clan as the deceased, and he has 
 to sleep in the hut of the senior widow of the deceased," 
 and to have sexual relations with her. His poverty, and 
 the rule that " he generally lives on in the village and 
 is looked upon as a stepfather to the children," point to 
 the service he thus performs being considered attended 
 with some danger, and therefore not to be undertaken 
 except in hope of an adequate reward.^ The Anyanja, 
 likewise a Bantu tribe, settled at the southern end of 
 Lake Nyasa, hold a beer-drinking accompanied by dance 
 and song a month after the burial, which takes place two 
 or three days after the death. Up to that time conjugal 
 relations are forbidden throughout the village of the 
 deceased. The widow or widower and then each relative 
 in turn is shaved, and cohabitation by all except the 
 widow is resumed. She must wait until the second beer- 
 drinking, six months or a year later. At this second 
 ceremony dancing takes place on the first night, and 
 beer is drunk the next day. Before sunset on the first 
 day the widow is again shaven, and the mother of the 
 deceased informs her that she is now free to marry again. 
 That night " she has to sleep with a man paid by her 
 
 1 Hobley, /. A. I., xli. 418. Among the neighbouring Atharaka and 
 Akamba the duty of sleeping with the widow on the fifth night after the 
 death is performed by a brother of the deceased (Champion, ibid., xlii. 
 84). 
 
222 RITUAL AND BELIEF 
 
 relations." He is not her permanent husband ; his 
 services are merely required as a preliminary to her 
 marriage. According to the account from which I am 
 quoting it would appear that she may marry after 
 mourning two or three months, but not without the same 
 previous ritual coition, else " her second husband would 
 die, should she have committed adultery." A widower, 
 on the other hand, " mourns five or six months and is 
 then given medicine, after which he may marry again, and 
 without which, should he marry, his new wife would die." ^ 
 There are some difficulties here. It seems clear that until 
 the mourning is over the widows cannot marry again, and 
 the length of mourning is decided by the relatives of the 
 deceased ; it is closed with the beer-drinking. When it 
 is over, the widows select their husbands from among the 
 kindred of the deceased ; he who marries the chief wife 
 is the heir. A widow cannot marry outside this limited 
 circle, unless she, or her new husband, be prepared to 
 repay her bride-price, and often more. Customs doubt- 
 less diflFer, but this is the usual course. It is curious too 
 that the second husband of a widow should die, if he 
 married her without the previous coition by another man, 
 only if she had committed adultery, whereas the woman 
 marrying a widower will die in any case if he have not had 
 medicine. It is probable that there has been some mis- 
 understanding of the informants and that the second 
 husband runs the risk of death in any case by wedding a 
 widow who has not undergone the regular preliminary.^ 
 The probability is confirmed by the practice of the Yaos, 
 a neighbouring tribe, among whom the second husband 
 
 1 Stannus,/. A. I., xl. 315. 
 
 ^ Compare the accounts of Anyanja funerals in Rattray, 92 (this 
 account is by a native), and Werner, 165. In neither of these is the 
 custom in question referred to. 
 
THE HAUNTED WIDOW 223 
 
 pays a man to pass a night with the widow before he 
 takes her.^ A further example may be given from a 
 wholly different cultural area. Among the Kamtchadals 
 no one would be willing to marry a widow " unless her 
 sins have been previously taken away by the highest 
 degree of familiarity granted to anyone who wishes to 
 render her this service." The writer to whom we are 
 indebted for the information reported in the eighteenth 
 century that the natives imagined that this expiation 
 might cause the expiator to die like the defunct husband, 
 so that the poor women would remain widows but for 
 the assistance of the Russian soldiers, who were not 
 afraid of exposing themselves to a danger so equivocal.* 
 
 The Kikuyu, Anyanja and Kamtchadal customs are 
 evidently the same. The penalty for non-observance, 
 though not expressed in our account of the Kikuyu 
 custom, is, it will hardly be questioned, the same as in 
 the other two ; it is the death of the second husband. 
 What I venture to suggest, in view of the other Bantu 
 customs already laid before the reader, is that the risk 
 actually run by marrying or cohabiting with the widow 
 is that of death from the posthumous jealousy of the 
 deceased. The fact that the deceased is stiU supposed 
 to desire a continuance of conjugal relations renders 
 it natural to think that, even where the extreme terrors 
 that torture the widow in some places are not shown, 
 the belief may linger in his jealousy of other men, who 
 do what he perhaps is no longer conceived capable of. 
 The suggestion derives support from the rites performed 
 about the Lower Congo. There, it wiU be remembered, 
 the terror of a dead husband is excessive. The elaborate 
 
 1 Rattray, 187. 
 
 2 Georgi, iii. 8g. The information is perhaps derived from the old 
 travellers, Steller and Krasheninnikoff, both of whom mention the custom. 
 S^&Jesu^. Exped., vi. 752. 
 
224 RITUAL AND BELIEF 
 
 purification of the widow, every incident of which points 
 to the desire to rid her of his attentions, culminates in 
 his brother stepping over her outstretched legs. 
 
 Now the act of stepping over another is everywhere 
 regarded as one of great rudeness, if not insult. More 
 than this, it is regarded as likely to communicate some 
 mysterious injury or to take away some luck, good 
 quality or advantage from the person who is thus treated. 
 Hence it is often hotly resented. Without going beyond 
 the Congo region, it is enough to note that in Loango to 
 step over a child is to interfere with his development — in 
 other words, to stop his growth ; to step over an adult 
 is to transfer to him every evil from which one may 
 be suffering. It is not good even to reach, or to throw 
 anything, across him ; and if such a thing be done, the 
 action must be repeated in the contrary direction, in 
 order, it would seem, to reverse the spell.^ But in the 
 ceremony of purification an act in ordinary circumstances 
 so injurious is ritually performed for some beneficial 
 eiFect. This may be simply to take away some evil ; 
 it may be to dispossess finally and for ever the tenacious 
 ghost, in case all the previous efforts have proved 
 unavailing. But the difference of the performer's sex 
 means surely more than this. When a widow is purified, 
 her husband's brother performs the final rite ; when it 
 is a widower, his wife's sister. Now it will be observed 
 these persons belong to the precise class from which the 
 next spouse is to be taken. When the husband dies 
 the widow becomes the wife of one of his brothers ; 
 when the wife dies the husband demands another wife 
 from her family.^ The act of stepping over the widow 
 or widower, therefore, seems to symbolize the taking of 
 possession by one of the persons entitled to do so. 
 
 1 Pechuel-Loesche, 330. Cf. Weeks, 300. 2 /r ^^.^ xix. 413. 
 
THE HAUNTED WIDOW 225 
 
 Let us turn to the Baganda, a Bantu people on the 
 highest pitch of civilization to which any branch of the 
 race had attained prior to the coming of the white man. 
 There we find that jumping over a woman, or stepping 
 over her legs, is regarded as " equivalent to, or instead 
 of, having sexual connection with her." " For a woman 
 to sit with her legs straight in front of her, or apart, 
 was looked upon as unbecoming ; and for any man to 
 step over her legs was equivalent to having intercourse 
 with her. The mere fact of stepping over a wife, or 
 over some of her clothing, was a method frequently 
 followed to end a taboo which necessitated intercourse " 
 {scil.y to end it).-^ The act is performed on a variety of 
 ceremonial occasions when coition would be inconvenient. 
 To mention only one, the king had an officer of the 
 court, a relative of his own, called the Kauzumu, whose 
 duty it was to fulfil certain rites and taboos for him, 
 and thus to save him from inconvenience. Among 
 others, it was said that in former times it was his duty 
 to take the women who were to become the king's wives 
 for one night to his bed. To the latest period of 
 national independence, when one of the king's wives 
 died and her clan sent another in her place, the Kauzumu 
 jumped over her before presenting her to the king.^ By 
 this act the taboo was removed, the danger, whatever it 
 was, was diverted from the king to the Kauzumu. We 
 may safely infer that the act of stepping over the legs 
 of the surviving spouse in the Congo region is a symbolic 
 coition. It is performed by one who belongs to the class 
 of prospective spouses, though probably after the per- 
 
 * Roscoe, The Baganda (London, 191 1), 357 n., 48. Of the King of 
 Nri in Nigeria we are told : " No man is allowed to step over his wives' 
 legs, nor may anyone commit adultery with them ' (Thomas, Ibo, i. 53). 
 This collocation of prohibitions is hardly accidental. 
 
 ^ Roscoe, 205. 
 
 15 
 
226 RITUAL AND BELIEF 
 
 formance of such a ceremony not the one who would 
 actually wed the survivor ; for its object, if I am right, 
 is to take on the shoulders of the performer the 
 consequences which would otherwise light on the new 
 consort.^ 
 
 Though not by any means so conclusively as the practices 
 just discussed, the delay between the ending of a first 
 marriage by the death of one of the parties and the 
 second marriage of the other party seems to indicate the 
 same dread of the deceased. The mourning ceremonies 
 must usually all be accomplished before the survivor, 
 at all events if a woman, can be married again. With 
 the completion of the mourning ceremonies it is a 
 common belief, of which we have had more than one 
 instance, that the deceased is finally despatched to the 
 society of the dead ; in any case, he is at rest, and is very 
 often speedily forgotten. Among the Namib-Bushmen 
 of South- West Africa, a mongrel people, the result of 
 the intermingling of probably many broken tribes with 
 an original stock of Hottentots, marriage is monogamous. 
 That does not mean that death only can separate the 
 married pair. If separation between two living spouses 
 take place, either can marry again forthwith. But if the 
 separation be caused by death, something like half a year 
 (that is to say, either a rainy or a dry season) must elapse 
 before re-marriage ; for, we are told, the belief prevails 
 that, for example, the woman whom a widower marries 
 without waiting will soon herself die. And when the 
 widower does venture on a new marriage, it must be to 
 
 1 I suspect that the requirement mentioned by Professor Frazer 
 {Dying God, 183), of some of the Kaffir tribes, not specified, that the first 
 child bom after the second marriage of a widow of a man killed in battle, 
 whether by her first or her second husband, must be put to death, is to be 
 referred to the same cycle of ideas. But I have no access to the authority 
 he cites, which is partly unpublished. 
 
THE HAUNTED WIDOW 227 
 
 a sister of his deceased, wife if there be one at liberty.^ 
 So in the Togo district of Atakpame, a woman who 
 is left by her husband, even if only for a time, may 
 be taken by another man ; and this, it seems, under 
 German rule renders it difficult to get men to work at 
 the making of roads, for his absence will cost the 
 labourer his wife. But when a man dies his widow 
 must wait for three farm-years (a farm-year equals 
 ten months) before she marries again. The delay 
 seems not to be popular. In the western portion of 
 the district, among the Akposso, the time has been 
 shortened to two years, while in the eastern portion, 
 where the people are less purely Akposso, the widow 
 marries after eleven months. The modern Akposso 
 widow holds it silly to wait longer : she has not 
 murdered her first husband, and therefore she ought, 
 she thinks, to be able to marry sooner. But she must 
 wait these eleven months, else she would die. If, 
 however, her husband has been hanged for murder or 
 some other reason, she may marry at the end of two or 
 three months. The ground alleged for this shortening 
 of the period of delay is economic. There seems to be 
 no rule requiring the widow to be taken by a surviving 
 member of the husband's family, though the children 
 resulting from a second marriage belong to it. If she 
 cannot find another husband, therefore, she must go 
 back to her own family and she may become a burden 
 upon it. On marrying she must work in her husband's 
 fields, for the benefit of himself and his family. But she 
 is entitled to a small field for herself, out of which she 
 may make her own profit ; and there is now plenty of 
 money in the country, and a general desire to earn as 
 
 1 Lieut. Hans Kaufmann, Mitteil. aus den Deutschen Schutzgeb. 
 (Berlin, 1910), xxiii. 168. 
 
228 RITUAL AND BELIEF 
 
 much of it and as soon as possible.^ AH this may 
 be very true ; but seeing that the widow who marries 
 prematurely must die, she will not be likely to run 
 so serious a risk for the chance of making a little 
 money. If we are right in supposing that the death- 
 penalty is one exacted by the deceased, the conjecture 
 will not be deemed unreasonable that hanging is believed 
 to inflict such injuries on the ghost that its interference 
 is not to be dreaded. The mode of death and the 
 mutilations (if any) inflicted on the corpse are widely 
 held to affect the departed in the future life. 
 
 Jealousy is a passion by no means confined to the male 
 sex. In the lower culture it is believed to continue to 
 inspire women as well as men, even after death. If not 
 so prominent a superstition as the belief in masculine 
 jealousy, this is perhaps to be accounted for partly by 
 the generally dominant position in the household and in 
 society of the man, partly to the widespread habit of 
 polygamy, and partly to the physiological rule that the 
 decay of sexual impulse makes its appearance earlier in 
 women than in men. We have already found examples 
 of customs pointing to posthumous feminine jealousy 
 among various races in both hemispheres. One or two 
 other examples may be given. 
 
 Among the Bantu tribes of North-Eastern Rhodesia, 
 when a married woman dies her husband sends to her 
 father for another wife in her stead. A sister or some 
 such relative of the deceased is the proper person to take 
 her place. If there be none unmarried and therefore 
 available, a married sister of the deceased must spend 
 one or two nights with the widower " to take the death 
 from ofi^ his body." '^ This is so much in harmony with 
 
 1 Zeits. V. Recktsiv., xxv. loi, 97, 105. 
 ^ Gouldsbury and Sheane, 171. 
 
THE HAUNTED WIDOW 229 
 
 the Bantu practices previously considered, that we can 
 only suppose the deceased would acquiesce in her sister's 
 succession to her rights, but would feel jealous and angry 
 at the intrusion of another woman. The women of these 
 tribes are high-spirited and jealous, those of the Awemba 
 being proverbially fierce. Among most of the tribes it 
 is imperative for the bridegroom to move into the bride's 
 parents' village, where he will always be under the eye 
 of his mother-in-law, and where, no doubt, in case of the 
 wife's death, a sister or other relation would be con- 
 veniently handy to step into her shoes. Indeed, among 
 the Awemba the wife often relinquishes her position 
 voluntarily to another member of the family. When she 
 " has presented her husband with two or three children she 
 considers that she has fulfilled her marriage obligations 
 towards him. With his consent, which as a rule is not 
 difficult to obtain, she hands over her niece as a substitute. 
 The niece inherits her aunt's position, and cares for her 
 children, while the aunt retires to the peace of a single 
 life, or very often finds a new partner." ^ Thus it may 
 be presumed that a dead wife, if she returned and found 
 a relative of her own in her husband's arms, would 
 submit to a relationship between them such as she herself 
 might in a year or two have voluntarily initiated, satisfied 
 that her children, if any, would be looked after. How 
 long that relationship would last (and divorce is quite an 
 everyday occurrence) would be no concern of hers, and 
 she would not trouble herself further in the matter. The 
 next woman whom her husband married would therefore 
 be rendered safe : the " death " would have been taken 
 off his body. 
 
 In India the widows of the higher castes are not 
 allowed to marry again. Among the aboriginal tribes 
 
 1 Gouldsbury and Sheane, i68 sqg. 
 
230 RITUAL AND BELIEF 
 
 widows who do so often marry " under cover of darkness, 
 and with the aid of certain ceremonies commonly relied 
 upon as a protection against spirits." If in spite of 
 these precautions the woman should be troubled by her 
 departed husband, he is placated, as among the Kolls of 
 Ahmadnagar, by a tiny image of himself worn in a copper 
 case round her neck, or set among the household gods, 
 and by the expenditure of money in charity.^ But the 
 spirit of a dead wife is more troublesome. Her character 
 for jealousy and malice is perhaps partly due to confusion 
 with a woman dead in childbirth or pregnancy, or who 
 has never had a child. A ghost of this kind is greatly 
 dreaded.^ The ghosts of ordinary married women are, 
 however, not to be despised. They perform all sorts 
 of unpleasant tricks on the survivors, not the least of 
 which are the attacks they make on their successors in 
 their husbands' affections. Happily these attacks can be 
 warded off by a judicious homage to the departed or a 
 pretended identification of the deceased with her successor. 
 Thus among the Gaddis, a Hindu sect in the Panjab, 
 when the first wife dies the second wears a silver plate 
 called saukan mora, or crown of the rival wife. This 
 plate represents the deceased, and is propitiated to avert 
 her hostility.* Indeed, the practice is not confined to one 
 sect : it is common to several of the castes. The widower 
 hangs a miniature portrait of his former wife, or even her 
 name engraved on a silver or gold plate, about the new 
 bride's neck. The object, it has been suggested, is to 
 humour the spirit of the first wife by identifying her with 
 the second, thus proving the husband's fidelity. In the 
 
 * Cens. Ind. Rep., 1901, ix. 208 ; W. Crooke, Encye. Rel., iv. 603. 
 2 W. Crooke, I.e. See supra, p. 213 note. Cf. also Cens. Ind. Rep., 
 1901, xvii. 120. 
 ^ Cens. Ind. Rep., 1901, xvii. 121. 
 
THE HAUNTED WIDOW 231 
 
 Central Panjab, on the other hand, the bride is dressed 
 as a milkmaid, or a flower-seller, and given a servile 
 nickname, apparently to convince the spirit of the deceased 
 that the girl being married is not a real wife, but a slave- 
 girl. When the death of the second wife shows that the 
 device has been unsuccessful, a mock-marriage of the 
 bridegroom to a tree or a sheep, adorned like a bride, 
 is resorted to before his marriage with a woman. "It 
 is interesting to watch the bedecked sheep sitting on the 
 kh&rAs (reversed baskets) with a bridegroom and being 
 led by him round the sacrificial fire, while the real bride 
 sits by." Here it is doubtless intended to fix the 
 attention of the deceased upon the tree or the sheep, and 
 so leave the real wife free from her jealousy. After 
 the death of the third wife the evil influence of the first 
 is deemed to be exhausted.^ The Lets of Bengal, who 
 are also Hindus in religion, permit their widows to marry 
 again, though not by the rite for a virgin-bride. The 
 second husband is usually a widower ; and he places the 
 iron bangle of his former wife on his new wife's arm.^ 
 So in Baroda a widower who marries again has to present 
 to his new wife a neck-ornament with marks to represent 
 the feet of his first wife. She wiU wear this to prevent 
 the ghost of the latter from troubling her.* 
 
 It need hardly be said that the rites and tales here 
 discussed involve something more than the belief in the 
 survival of death by a bare human personality. They could 
 not have come into existence without the belief that what 
 remained after the catastrophe was still in some degree a 
 sentient and powerful being. It is difiicult for mankind to 
 acquiesce in the reality of death. The imagination refuses 
 to harbovir the thought of the cessation of conscious exist- 
 
 1 Cens. Ind. Rep., 1911, xiv. 283. 
 
 2 Bid., 1901, vi. 421, ^ Ibid., 191 1, xvi. 176, 
 
232 RITUAL AND BELIEF 
 
 ence. The dead, although they appear to respond no 
 longer to the physical and social stimuli hitherto eiFective, 
 must still be. Vanished from our ordinary ken, they must 
 be living somewhere, somehow ; they cannot have been 
 annihilated. If they still live, they must live under con- 
 ditions analogous to those we know, and with affections, 
 desires, appetites, aversions, similar to those they had in 
 this life, though the objects may conceivably be changed. 
 Hence every sort of activity known to man is ascribed to 
 them. In dreams, in trances, and in the phenomena of 
 possession they are observed to carry on these activities. 
 But because they are observed to carry them on only under 
 such mysterious conditions they repel the survivors and 
 fill them with an undefinable horror and awe. Among 
 the affections and appetites of mankind those connected 
 with the sexual life are almost the strongest. It is natural 
 therefore to imagine that the dead will still endeavour, by 
 social and even by fleshly intercourse with the survivors, 
 to gratify them. For if the belief in their activity in 
 other directions be conceded, this cannot be denied ; and 
 perhaps the very horror that would be inspired by the 
 ultimate stages of such a possibility serves to attract the 
 thoughts, and therefore the belief, of peoples on the lower 
 planes of civilization. 
 
 lU weeds grow rank in such a soil. Not only are 
 sexual appetites and affections almost the strongest ; 
 but, as is now well recognized, in the complex attitude 
 of mankind to the invisible world they have no in- 
 considerable share. Marriage is a status hemmed about 
 by many taboos and easily lending itself to mystical 
 presentation. It is natural that the demise of one of 
 the parties should cause a shock to the survivor cor- 
 responding to the change of condition involved, and 
 should powerfully affect the sexual impulses. Even 
 
THE HAUNTED WIDOW 233 
 
 apart from marriage they are an object on which the 
 thought of mankind, whether savage or civilized, 
 broods with a persistent endeavour to solve the 
 mystery surrounding them. Hints are seen in them 
 for the solution of many a problem other than that of 
 the propagation of the species. The ideas suggested 
 by their contemplation are utilized alike for practical 
 and economical purposes (for example, in agricultural 
 magic), and for speculation on the transcendent themes 
 of life and death and the constitution of the universe. 
 The tales and superstitions I have brought together 
 exhibit these impulses emphasizing the terror of the 
 dead. Many of the phenomena of dreams, and the 
 phenomena of hysteria and various forms of delusion 
 are due to the sexual impulses. The sexual impulses 
 in turn are in many, if not all, of the cases referred 
 to above greatly aided by the conditions imposed on 
 the patient. No less than luxury and over-feeding, 
 fasting and abstinence from the ordinary and reason- 
 able gratification of animal appetites, and from social 
 intercourse, are the parents of nightmare and delusion. 
 Both extremes lead through physical disturbances to 
 disorders of the imagination and the reason. Hermits 
 and celibates have probably suffered even more than 
 rakes and gluttons and drunkards. The annals of 
 monasticism with tiresome and pitiful iteration record 
 the disastrous effects of asceticism upon body and mind. 
 Among savage and barbarous peoples these effects are 
 as a rule less noxious, because the conditions inducing 
 and accelerating them are less continuous. But it is 
 precisely at the time when sexual relations are put 
 out of normal gear, and the sexual impulses are left 
 without their normal gratification, that exclusion from 
 society and abstinence, sometimes from sleep, always 
 
234 RITUAL AND BELIEF 
 
 from food usual in quality and amount, are imposed. 
 The imagination, already stimulated by the shock of 
 the death (rarely attributed to natural causes), the 
 possibility of an accusation of witchcraft hanging over 
 the widow's head, the certainty in many cases (as 
 among the tribes of British Columbia) of a long 
 period of hardship and even torture, aU combine with 
 the exclusion and enforced abstinence to produce a 
 state of unnatural excitement, amounting at times to 
 terror and delusion — in any case liable powerfully to 
 affect the dreams, and to produce hysteria. 
 
 It must be remembered that the entire community 
 shares to the full the underlying beliefs, and participates 
 in varying degrees in the fears of the bereaved spouse. 
 We are familiar even in Europe with the effect upon 
 a crowd — nay, upon an entire nation — of emotions 
 felt in common. They are intensified. The atmosphere 
 becomes electrical, and a spark suffices to produce 
 a conflagration. When the object of the emotion is 
 strange, imperfectly apprehended, mysterious, the effect 
 is heightened ; it becomes a species of insanity. Things 
 are imagined which do not exist ; eyewitnesses attest 
 what a dispassionate observer knows to be impossi- 
 bilities. The most appalling of the tales and the 
 most vivid of the rites we have been considering are 
 thus easily accounted for. The marvel is that they 
 are not more widely distributed over the world than 
 our present information enables us to affirm. 
 
THE PHILOSOPHY OF MOURNING 
 CLOTHES 
 
 It is a commonplace among anthropologists that certain 
 events in a community cause a state of taboo, which 
 affects the members of the community in a greater or 
 less degree, according to their nearness of place or blood 
 to the person principally concerned, or according to the 
 magnitude of the event. Among these events a death 
 is not the least important. In the lower culture the 
 whole village or settlement is often attainted by the 
 occurrence of a death. But it is more particularly 
 the near relatives, and those who have been brought 
 into contact with the corpse, who are affected by the 
 death-taboo (or, as it is often called, the death-pollution), 
 most of all the widow or widower. We call the period 
 of the death-taboo — mourning. The duration of the 
 taboo, as well as its intensity, varies among different 
 peoples, and not only according to the relationship of 
 the mourners to the deceased, but also to his rank, from 
 a few days to many months, and even to years. It is 
 very rare that there is no mourning on a death ; but if 
 our reports may be trusted, there are a few cases, which, 
 however, need not detain us. 
 
 Mourning garb is an essential part of the observances. 
 Its object has been much debated by anthropologists. 
 There seems little doubt that its first object is to dis- 
 tinguish those who are under the taboo from other 
 persons : it is the sign of the plague. Professor Frazer 
 
 23s 
 
236 RITUAL AND BELIEF 
 
 many years ago laid it down " that mourning costume 
 is usually the reverse of that in ordinary life." He 
 cited (among others) the practice at Rome for the sons 
 of the deceased to walk at the funeral with their heads 
 covered, the daughters with their heads uncovered, and 
 that in Greece for men and women during the period 
 of mourning to invert their usual habits of wearing the 
 hair, the ordinary practice of men being to cut it short 
 and that of women to wear it long.^ The accuracy of 
 the generalization might be illustrated from examples all 
 over the world. The Arapaho, who wear their hair long 
 and braided, when in mourning unbraid it and wear it 
 unbound. Sometimes they cut it. They wear old 
 clothing, and do not paint themselves as they are 
 accustomed to do.^ Among the Bangala of the Upper 
 Congo men sometimes wear women's dresses instead of 
 their own, and shave half the hair of the head, or shave 
 it in patches, and they rub clay on their bodies. Widows 
 dress in only a few leaves or go stark naked, but with 
 dirt or clay rubbed on the body. For three months 
 after the funeral and a period of retirement in the bush 
 they wear long, untidy-looking grass cloths.* When 
 following a corpse to the grave Ainu mourners wear 
 their coats inside out and upside down. An Ainu's hair 
 is never cut, except on the death of husband or wife ; 
 and then cutting is obligatory.* Among the Iban of 
 Sarawak a widow's mourning lasts until the final cere- 
 monies, sometimes two years after the death. During 
 that time she may not wear any ornament, her dress 
 must be plain and old ; and she is not allowed to pull 
 out her eyelashes and eyebrows, nor to use soap for 
 
 ^J.A. I., XV. 73, 98. 
 
 ^ A. L. Kroeber, Bull. Am. Mus. Nat. History, xviii. 17. 
 
 5 Weeks, 320, 321 ; /. A. /., xxxix. 453. 
 
 * Batchelor, 106, 167. 
 
PHILOSOPHY OF MOURNING CLOTHES 237 
 
 washing. Whatever acquaintance she may have in 
 ordinary life with soap, the prohibition to pull out her 
 eyelashes and eyebrows is a prohibition of the last and 
 most seductive touches of her toilet : no Iban woman 
 would think of wearing eyelashes and eyebrows if she 
 were not a widow in mourning.^ By reversing the usual 
 costume the mourner is distinguished from others, notice 
 is given to the world of the taboo that binds him. 
 
 For this reason many of the aborigines of British 
 Guiana lay their trinkets aside and go entirely naked ; 
 and among the Jiraras or Ayricas the wife, brothers and 
 sisters of the deceased paint themselves all over with the 
 juice of a fruit that renders them as black as Negroes, 
 while relatives less near paint only their feet, legs, arms 
 and part of the face : they are not so deeply compro- 
 mised.* So on the Ivory Coast the Ngoulango or PakhaUa 
 mourners put ofF their ornaments, put on the head a worn- 
 out loin-cloth and wear brown clothing, marking different 
 parts of the body with red earth. If anything more were 
 necessary to exhibit their state of taboo, it would be the 
 practice of widows when they went out of doors to carry 
 a piece of " fetish " wood, endowed with the power of 
 causing death to anyone who approached them and 
 touched it.^ In Australia the relatives, especially the 
 women, cover their heads with clay, or in some parts of 
 West Australia with red mud.* The Warramunga 
 women in the Northern Territory cover themselves from 
 head to foot with pipeclay.^ Among the Uriyas of India, 
 whose women are particularly fond of gay colours, a 
 widow wears a plain white borderless sari, or cloth, as 
 
 ' Anthropos, i. 172. 
 
 2 Int. Arch., xiii., Suppl., 77. 
 
 3 Clozel, 363. 
 
 * Brough Smyth, ii. 297 ; F. L., xiv. 325, 338. 
 6 Spencer and Gillen, N. T., 521. 
 
238 RITUAL AND BELIEF 
 
 the sign of her bereavement.^ The Man Cao Lan of 
 Tonkin wear white garments not hemmed ; and those 
 of their women who have adopted the Annamite trousers 
 recur to the native petticoat.^ 
 
 The colours of the mourning garb vary widely. Dr 
 Frazer has collected a considerable list, to which it is 
 needless to add. Let it suffice to say that though 
 emblematic colours are often used, the main principle, 
 especially in the lower culture, is that just discussed 
 of reversing, or wearing something quite distinctive 
 from, the ordinary costume. 
 
 The condition of taboo occasioned by a death, it 
 should be noted, is by no means limited to the death 
 of a human being. Among the ancient Egyptians the 
 Mendesians observed a great mourning on the death 
 of a goat ; and more generally when a cat died by a 
 natural death everyone in the house shaved his eye- 
 brows, while on the death of a dog the whole head 
 and body were shaved. Both these and other animals 
 were also accorded honours of burial in sacred tombs.^ 
 The native tribes of Manipur lay a genna, or taboo, 
 upon the inmates of a house in which an animal dies 
 or has young, especially a cow ; and when a cat dies it 
 is wrapped up in a cloth and buried amid lamentations 
 in a grave dug for it by the old women.* To the Ibo- 
 speaking peoples of Nigeria the leopard is a quasi- 
 sacred animal. At Aguku the hunter who has killed 
 it puts eagle- feathers in his hair and does no work for 
 twenty-eight days : that is to say, he is under a taboo 
 for a whole moon. At Ugwoba he may not go to 
 
 1 Rice, S6, 57. 
 
 2 Lunet de Lajonquifere, 282. 
 
 ^ Herod., ii. 46, 66, 67. They were all no doubt sacred animals. 
 * T. C. Hodson,/. A. /., xxxi. 306. 
 
PHILOSOPHY OF MOURNING CLOTHES 239 
 
 the AJana (the shrine of the earth) for a year ; he 
 must sit down without working for twenty-eight 
 days, and may eat only such food as has been put 
 in a pot and hung over the fire ; he sleeps in a good 
 house, and people watch lest other leopards come 
 and kill him. On the twenty-eighth day, on taking 
 the skin to market, sacrifices are offered to a certain 
 tree, which is regarded as ekwensu, defined as the 
 spirit of a man who has been killed with a rope or 
 a knife, or of a woman who has died in pregnancy.^ 
 Such a death would be an evil death, and the ghost 
 would be naturally inclined to make others suffer in 
 the same way ; but the sacrifices would perhaps 
 conciliate him and induce him to turn his attention 
 to an effectual protection of the sacrificer against the 
 leopards' vengeance. 
 
 Among the Herero of German South- West Africa 
 to shed the blood of a lion is the same as to shed 
 that of a human being ; and he who kills a lion can 
 only wash away the sin by the shedding of his own 
 blood. This is done by scoring his breast and arm 
 with a flint and dropping some of the blood upon the 
 earth.^ The Hidatsa of the North American prairies, 
 after hunting eagles, build a sweat-lodge and purify 
 themselves, singing a mystery-song or incantation.^ 
 The practice, in fact, is widespread. In some instances 
 it may be explained by totemism or analogous beliefs. 
 In any case there can be no doubt it is dictated by 
 similar motives to those that lead to the taboo and 
 mourning after the death of a human being. 
 
 The suggestion has been made that the change of 
 
 > Thomas, Ibo, i. 45, 39. 
 
 2 Meyer, 83. 
 
 ^ Pepper and Wilson, Mem, Am. Anthrop. Assoc, ii. 313. 
 
240 RITUAL AND BELIEF 
 
 garb is intended as a disguise to deceive the spirit of 
 the deceased, and so to shelter the mourner from its 
 attacks. On the one hand, many tribes unquestionably 
 adopt the same costume after killing an enemy as on 
 the death of a friend. Among the Abarambos of 
 Welle in the French Soudan, when a native kills 
 another he blackens his face, girds himself with a 
 grass cord and eats only raw bananas, to hinder the 
 ghost from coming to kill him in his turn. The same 
 rites are observed on the death of a husband or wife, 
 with the addition that the survivor disappears for a 
 time into the woods.-' 
 
 But this is by no means the universal rule. Among 
 the Nandi of East Africa the killing of an enemy 
 entails quite a different garb from the death of a 
 friend. "When a married man dies, his widows and 
 unmarried daughters lay aside all their ornaments, and 
 the eldest son wears his garment inside out " ; and 
 more or less shaving, according to their nearness in 
 blood, is done by all the relatives. " On the death 
 of a married woman her youngest daughter wears her 
 garment inside out, whilst her other relations put rope 
 on their ornaments [to hide them, a common practice 
 where they cannot easily be taken off] and shave their 
 heads. In the case of unmarried people the female 
 relations cover their ornaments with rope, and the 
 male relations shave their heads." The killing of a 
 Nandi, so far as appears, does not entail a change of 
 costume, at least if the homicide belong to a different 
 clan from his victim. It is merely the subject of 
 vengeance, unless bought off by blood-money. Curiously 
 enough, it does not even seem to render the guilty 
 man " unclean," as the killing of a member of his own 
 
 * Bull, de Folklore, iii. 74. 
 
PHILOSOPHY OF MOURNING CLOTHES 241 
 
 clan does. The latter indeed renders him " unclean for 
 the rest of his life, unless he can succeed in killing 
 two other Nandi of a different clan, and can pay the fine 
 himself." In the meantime, for aught that appears in 
 Mr Hollis' careful account of the Nandi, no change of 
 costume is necessary beyond what other members of 
 the clan must undergo on the death of a relation. The 
 killing of a person belonging to another tribe — a person 
 who is not a Nandi, — however, entails a stringent 
 condition of taboo, yet it is a subject, not of blame 
 like the killing of a Nandi, but of praise. The slayer 
 "paints one side of his body, spear and sword red, 
 and the other side white. For four days after the 
 murder he is considered unclean, and may not go 
 home. He has to build a small shelter by a river 
 and live there ; he must not associate with his wife 
 or sweetheart, and he may only eat porridge, beef, and 
 goat's flesh. At the end of the fourth day he must 
 purify himself by drinking a strong purge made from 
 the bark of the segetet-tree, and by drinking goat's 
 milk mixed with bullock's blood." ^ 
 
 Other tribes in the east of Africa paint the man- 
 killer. Masai warriors (from whom possibly the Nandi 
 have taken over the custom), after returning victorious, 
 paint the body in the manner just described." Among 
 the Borina Galla, the conquerors who have slain an 
 enemy, on returning, are washed by the women with 
 a mixture of fat and milk, and their faces are painted 
 red and white. After dirges over those who have fallen, 
 the praises of the surviving heroes are sung, and the 
 young warriors' trophies are publicly buried outside 
 the village. These trophies are portions of the bodies 
 
 * Hollis, Nandi, 71, 73, 74. 
 2 Id., Masai, 353. 
 
 16 
 
242 RITUAL AND BELIEF 
 
 of the slaughtered foes which cannot be conveniently 
 preserved.-' The washing is obviously a ceremonial 
 purification. Apart from this the entire proceeding is 
 one of triumph, and there is no indication of an attempt 
 at concealment. In the Congo basin the Yaka warrior 
 who kills a man in battle incurs the danger of reprisals 
 on the part of the ghost. He can, however, escape by 
 wearing the red tail-feathers of the parrot in his hair 
 and painting his forehead red. Upon this it is to be 
 observed that, as elsewhere, red is a favourite colour 
 among the Bayaka. It is used for body-painting of both 
 living and dead. The corpse is painted before burial ; 
 the dandy paints himself to increase his beauty ; the 
 widow is painted in mourning. The painting of the 
 forehead can therefore hardly be a disguise. The tail- 
 feathers of the parrot are probably an amulet.^ 
 
 The Lillooet or the Ntlakapamux warrior of British 
 Columbia who has slain a foe paints not merely his 
 forehead but his entire face black. If he did not do so, 
 it was believed that he would become blind ; and in the 
 case of the latter tribe we are told that " the spirit of 
 
 ' Paulitschke, i. 258. Cf. the customs of the Kavirondo and Ja-Luo, 
 where no painting is recorded (Johnston, Uganda, ii. 743, 794). 
 
 2 Torday and Joyce,y. A. /., xxxvi. 50 (cf. 41). Professor Frazer has 
 mentioned (Taboo, 186 n.) some other African cases in which the custom 
 of painting the man-slayer may be intended as a disguise. None of them 
 seem to be stronger than the above. He goes on to mention the Yabim 
 of German New Guinea, among whom the relations of a murdered man, 
 on accepting a bloodwit instead of avenging his death, must allow the 
 family of the murderer to mark them with chalk on the brow. " If this 
 is not done, the ghost of their murdered kinsman may come and trouble 
 them ; for example, he may drive away their swine or loosen their teeth." 
 I have no access to the German authority he cites ; but I may suggest 
 for what it may be worth that the chalk-mark is a certificate to the ghost 
 that his relatives have done their duty by exacting a fine for his death, 
 and that he has no cause to feel aggrieved with them — in fact, that he 
 may feel well satisfied. Dr Frazer himself indeed once took this view, or 
 something like it {Tylor Essays, 107). 
 
PHILOSOPHY OF MOURNING CLOTHES 243 
 
 the victim would cause him to become blind." Blindness 
 for some reason is dreaded by these tribes after other 
 deaths. Among the Lillooet a widower cuts his hair very 
 short above his eyes and ears ; " for if his hair touched 
 the eyes he would become blind." The cutting of the 
 hair is, of course, a very common rite either in or at 
 the conclusion of mourning. Among the Ntlakapamux, 
 widows and widowers "rubbed four times across their 
 eyes a small smooth stone taken from beneath running 
 water, and then threw it away, praying that they might 
 not become blind." ^ Since widows and widowers are 
 specially subject to the persecution of the deceased 
 spouse, we may perhaps infer that the blindness in such 
 cases would be attributable to the departed. A parity of 
 reasoning would lead to the same conclusion in regard 
 to the warrior's victim. But how the painting of the 
 face black would prevent such a catastrophe we are in 
 the dark. For aught we know, it may have been (for 
 instance) an expression of contrition designed to mollify 
 the injvired ghost. Mortuary ceremonies are almost 
 everywhere so complicated that it is difficult to disentangle 
 their motives. In the related tribe of the Skqomic all 
 who follow the corpse in the burial procession must paint 
 the breasts of their garments with red paint, else " a 
 scarcity of fish would be the result at the next salmon 
 run " ; and the widow in addition is painted with red 
 streaks on the crown of her head.^ The fact is that 
 painting oneself is a preparation for the footlights by 
 no means confined to over-civilized peoples. It is so 
 usual in the most varied stages of culture, from the 
 lowest upwards, that we cannot safely pronounce it an 
 attempt at disguise. 
 
 1 Teit, Jesup Exped., ii. 271, 235 ; i. 357, 332. 
 
 2 Hill-Tout, Notes on the Skqomic, Brit. Ass. Rei., 1900, 478 sq. 
 
244 RITUAL AND BELIEF 
 
 A somewhat stronger case might perhaps be made for 
 the garb of a company of Dyak head-hunters, if we could 
 be sure that the ceremonies as described a few years ago 
 by an eyewitness at the settlement of Tandjoeng-Karang, 
 on the river Kapoeas, were intact. But when a rite is 
 in decay, as head-hunting is, all sorts of variations are 
 possible. The British and Dutch governments, now 
 supreme in Borneo, with little regard for the most sacred 
 feelings of their heathen subjects, positively forbid a 
 custom intended to procure blessings for the community 
 by the conversion of ancient foes into guardian spirits. 
 Hence it is often necessary, instead of taking fresh heads, 
 to put up with old ones and to make believe that they 
 are new. For this purpose an expedition is sent forth 
 on a mock-raid, carrying skulls of former victims with 
 them, and bringing them back as if they were just 
 acquired. When the expedition returns, it is received 
 as if it were a successful war-party, and the ceremonies 
 on the arrival of genuine head-hunters are performed. 
 At Tandjoeng-Karang, on the occasion in question, these 
 included dances in which both men and women took part. 
 The men (who had been fasting, and were stiU under 
 taboo) were clad in war-apparel. Skins of animals hung 
 from their shoulders ; feathers adorned their caps ; and 
 all wore on their wrists, arms and legs ornaments of 
 withered palm-leaves, such as are distinctive of successful 
 raiders. In addition, some had also shaved the front of 
 the head and decked it with similar wreaths, so that the 
 leaves hung down like fringes over the face. If this were 
 intended as a disguise, it is curious that not all the 
 raiders were thus shaven. Whether there was any reason 
 why all did not share in this treatment of the head, or 
 indeed what the palm-leaf ornament signified, it was not 
 possible to ascertain. The observer was assured, however, 
 
PHILOSOPHY OF MOURNING CLOTHES 245 
 
 that the shaving was necessary in order to bring the fast 
 to an end, and that in former days the shorn hair was 
 thrown into the water with invocations to the spirits. 
 Now it lay neglected where it fell. The. day was con- 
 cluded with feasting and further dances ; but the men 
 were not yet entirely relieved from their taboo. This 
 was accomplished early the next morning with a bath in 
 the river ; and the slaughter of hogs and another feast 
 brought the solemnity to a close.^ 
 
 On the other hand, all supernatural beings are deceived 
 and tricked with what are to us very transparent devices. 
 The standard of intellect in the other world would seem 
 to be much lower than in this. Even the spirits of 
 Shakespeare and Milton, when conjured up in a spirit- 
 ualistic siance, are found stripped of all their supreme 
 qualities, and hardly the equals of the silly persons who 
 have flocked to their manifestations. In Borneo it is 
 recorded that " some Madang [a sub-tribe of the Kenyahs], 
 who had crossed over from the Baram to the Rejang on 
 a visit, appeared each with a cross marked in charcoal on 
 his forehead. They supposed that by this means they 
 were disguised beyond all recognition by evil spirits." 
 And Tama Bulan, a Kenyah chief, when on a visit to 
 Kuching, discarded for the same reason the leopard's 
 teeth which he habitually wore at home through the 
 upper part of his ears." In the same island also the 
 Kayans protect a child from an evil-disposed Toh, or 
 inferior spirit, by a sooty mark on the forehead, consisting 
 of a vertical median line and a horizontal band above the 
 eyebrows, which is thought to render it difficult for the 
 Toh to recognize his victim.^ 
 
 1 Bijdragen, xxxix. 37. Cf. Furness, 91. 
 
 2 /. A. I., xxxvi. 83 note ; Hose, i. 271 note. 
 2 Hose, ii. 24. 
 
246 RITUAL AND BELIEF 
 
 This facility of deception, it may be observed, extends 
 to other senses than that of sight. It is accountable for 
 the taboo of words and the use of euphemisms in hunting 
 and on other occasions. The poor silly spirits will not 
 be able to penetrate the disguise. In the north-east of 
 Scotland the fishermen when at sea never pronounced the 
 words minister, kirk, swine, salmon, trout, dog, and so on, 
 but used other words or phrases instead, such as " bell- 
 hoose " for kirk, or " the man wi' the black quyte " for 
 minister} The people of Mulera-Ruanda in German 
 East Africa have a definite theory to account for such a 
 practice. They hold that the spirits have indeed ears 
 and can hear what is said, but they have no eyes. 
 Consequently when a householder proposes on some 
 solemn occasion, as a betrothal, to sacrifice an animal, he 
 directs the slave to go to the hill and fetch the thickest 
 sweet potato for a feast, meaning a fat goat from the herd. 
 This goat he then offers to his ancestors, calling it an ox ; 
 for the spirits will not be able to detect the cheat.^ Like 
 Isaac in the Hebrew story, they are blind, and "what 
 the eye doesn't see, the heart doesn't grieve at," as our 
 English proverb has it : they can be thus deceived into 
 giving their blessing in return for a trifling gratification. 
 
 Yet it may be doubted whether the cases alleged by 
 Professor Frazer in the important paper to which 
 reference has been made, as favouring the opinion that 
 mourning clothes are a disguise, are not susceptible of a 
 different interpretation. So inconclusive did he himself 
 think the evidence that he refrained from definitely 
 committing himself to the opinion in question, though 
 others have since done so. The custom of painting the 
 face and body in mourning is so common that it is at 
 least remarkable that the tribes of Borneo, who disguise 
 » Gregor, 199. 2 Anthropos, iv. 859, 860. 
 
PHILOSOPHY OF MOURNING CLOTHES 247 
 
 themselves, as we have seen, from hostile spirits with 
 charcoal, do not seem to attempt this defence against the 
 peevish ghost of a newly deceased person. They content 
 themselves with wearing bark-cloth or clothes stained 
 yellow with clay, with allowing the hair to grow where it 
 is usually shaved, or shaving it where it usually grows, 
 and with laying aside personal ornaments or substituting 
 for the metal earrings commonly worn by the women a 
 wooden makeshift.^ In this way they may be said to 
 conform to the rule already discussed of reversing the 
 ordinary costume. 
 
 A Bohemian custom required the mourners to put on 
 masks and to practise strange behaviour on their return 
 from the funeral. It may be conjectured that this was 
 a dance or devil-drive, intended to expel, not to deceive. 
 Such dances are not uncommon, both at periodical purifi- 
 cation ceremonies * and on the occasion of a death. The 
 use of masks at funeral dances of this kind has been 
 reported, for example, in recent years among the Bantu- 
 speaking peoples of the prairie-land in the interior of the 
 Kamerun. At these dances wooden masks in the likeness 
 of lower animals as well as of human beings are worn ; 
 and two of the latter, hideous enough to horrify any 
 respectable ghost, are figured by the German explorer 
 who discovered them.' More recently another German 
 explorer has found, on the Upper Aiary in the interior of 
 Brazil, mourning-dances of a similar character, in which 
 masks were used representing various animals and demons, 
 and has given figures from photographs of the dancers, 
 as well as a lively description of one of the dances which 
 he witnessed. This dance began with an attack on the 
 
 1 Hose, ii. 37. 
 
 * Frazer,/. A. /., xv. 73 ; Id., Scapegoat, chaps, i. iii. iv. vi. 
 
 5 Hutter, 442. 
 
248 RITUAL AND BELIEF 
 
 Maloka, or community-house, by a troop of evil spirits, 
 who eventually succeeded in storming it. The mother 
 and widow of the dead man wailed. The attacking party, 
 having forced an entrance, sang. The women were 
 terrified, but the scene ended in weeping and laughter. 
 It was followed by dances and songs by the various 
 animals ; and the performance was concluded by a phallic 
 dance — a pantomime of the process of reproduction. The 
 meaning of the masque, the explorer declares, was clear. 
 It was a magic ritual intended to propitiate the angry 
 ghost of the deceased, that he might not return and carry 
 ofF any of the survivors. The evil demons, to whose 
 charge perhaps the death was laid, and from whose spite 
 mankind is never safe, would by the performance be 
 hindered from further mischief. MdkukO (the forest- 
 demon) and the jaguar, foes of the hunter, the spoilers of 
 the crops (worms, larvae, and other vermin), and likewise 
 the game itself were meant, by the mimicry of their 
 various proceedings, to be magically influenced and 
 rendered favourable to men, so that rich booty, large 
 harvests, and every sort of fertility and blessing would 
 result.^ 
 
 If it be objected that a mask is by its very nature 
 intended to deceive, we must not forget that that is very 
 often not its primary object. A nurse in play with a 
 child wiU sometimes put on a mask for an instant. She 
 does so not to deceive the child as to her identity, but 
 to cause a momentary terror. So the horrible distortions 
 of the human countenance, the wild, the grotesque, the 
 impossible mingling of human and bestial features char- 
 acteristic of many of the masks used in these dances, are 
 often intended rather to terrify than to deceive the super- 
 natural beings against whom the performance is directed. 
 ' Koch-Griinberg, i. 130-140. 
 
PHILOSOPHY OF MOURNING CLOTHES 249 
 
 A warrior going to batde decks himself out with paint 
 and feathers, with helmet and grinning crest, in order to 
 strike fear into the heart of his foe. Spirits are as easily 
 frightened as human beings. Indeed, happily for the 
 comfort of mankind, they are possessed of uncommonly 
 weak nerves which fail them, with all their malevolence, 
 at every turn. All that is necessary is for the man who 
 knows how to deal with them to put on a bold front, and 
 they will flee before him. 
 
 Professor de Groot, writing of the war against spectres 
 in China, says : " A courageous man while boldly fight- 
 ing, or trying to terrify by aggressive gestures, easily gets 
 his hair disordered. Therefore flowing hair intimates 
 intrepidity, and cannot fail to inspire the spectral world 
 with fear. . . . This idea has not only formed the text of 
 old traditions, but as early as the Han dynasty had created 
 the custom of setting up long-haired heads, in order 
 to drive away spectres. No wonder that to this day 
 long-haired exorcists assuming this terrifying aspect, and 
 enhancing it by weapons brandished with vigour, are every- 
 day appearances also in spectre - expelling processions. 
 Accoutrements," he goes on to say, " have been worn 
 with the same object since early times. Before the 
 Christian era, the fang-siang, while purifying grave-pits, 
 houses, and streets, were dressed with bearskins and 
 masked with grotesque caps ; and under the Han dynasty 
 persons masked as animals, feathered, haired and horned, 
 accompanied them in exorcis'ing processions, jumping 
 about and screaming. Probably such exorcists have 
 appeared in all ages at funerals. Even to this day . . , 
 fang-siang are seen therein in the shape of effigies." ^ 
 
 But masked personages in many mourning - dances 
 represent the ghosts themselves. In the islands of Torres 
 I De Groot, Rel. Syst., vi. 1151. 
 
2 so RITUAL AND BELIEF 
 
 Straits, for example, such representations are an indis- 
 pensable part of the funeral ceremonies, and the identity 
 of the ghost is " indicated by a pantomimic representation 
 of characteristic traits of the deceased. The idea," says 
 Dr Haddon, " evidently was to convey to the mourners 
 the assurance that the ghost was alive and that in the 
 person of the dancer he visited his friends ; the assurance 
 of his life after death comforted the bereaved ones." ^ 
 The identification of the performer with the deceased is 
 among some peoples complete. Thirty days after the 
 death of an adult Musquakie Indian the dead man is 
 personated by a friend, who in this character attends a 
 farewell feast preparatory to the final departure of the 
 ghost for the Happy Hunting Grounds. He is called 
 the ghost-carrier. When the sun goes down he departs 
 toward the west, convoyed by a number of the friends of 
 the deceased, all of whom, like himself, are painted but not 
 masked. After nightfall they return and are welcomed as 
 from a long journey. The ghost-carrier is by everyone 
 addressed by the name of the deceased. In a few days 
 he visits the parents of the deceased, if they survive, 
 announcing himself as their dead son, who would care for 
 them in their old age. He is henceforth looked upon as 
 their son, called by that son's name, and pledged to a son's 
 duty to them, though his own parents do not necessarily 
 give him up and still call him by his own name. Similar 
 ceremonies are performed for women by women.^ In 
 fact the performer who represents a supernatural being in 
 a religious dance of any kind is quite commonly regarded 
 not as a representative, but as the supernatural personage 
 himself, so long as he wears the mask and bears his 
 attributes. So an author already quoted, writing of the 
 
 ' Torres Str. Exped., v. 256 ; cf. vi, 140 sqq. 
 
 ^ Owen, Musquakie, 81. Cf. Arch. Rel., xiv. 257. 
 
PHILOSOPHY OF MOURNING CLOTHES 251 
 
 Indians of North- Western Brazil, says : " The demon 
 is involved in the mask, is incorporated in it ; the mask 
 is for the Indian the demon himself. . , . The demon of 
 the mask passes over into the masquer for the time 
 being." ^ The masked dances of these Indians are per- 
 formed especially in honour of the dead. The masks 
 therefore are intended to deceive nobody, not even the 
 recently deceased, who as a new arrival in the other world 
 may be "a babe in these things." The masquers are 
 the demons in propriis personis without any deceit. 
 
 A different case is that of a Myoro woman cited by 
 Dr Frazer from Captain Speke's Journal of the Discovery 
 of the Source of the Nile. Her child had died. She 
 smeared herself with butter and ashes and ran frantically 
 about, " while the men abused her in foul language for 
 the express purpose of frightening away the demons " 
 who had carried off her child. And Dr Frazer asks : 
 " If curses are meant to frighten, are not the ashes meant 
 to deceive the demon ? " '^ From the description of the 
 scene, however, it seems probable that the demon was 
 conceived as actually in possession of the woman, and 
 that it was intended to drive him out of her. In that 
 event again there would be no deception of the demon — 
 it was open war ; while the ashes may be referable to 
 quite another cause, as will be suggested below. 
 
 A third possible example is the custom in Calabria, 
 whereby the women cease wailing at night and put off the 
 black veils they donned at the moment of death.* Here 
 it may be, as Professor Frazer suggests, a sufficient 
 explanation that disguise is superfluous in the dark. The 
 custom of wearing veils or hoods to conceal the face in 
 
 ' Koch-Grunberg, ii. 173. 
 
 ' Frazer,/. A. I., xv. 99, citing Speke, /ournal, 542. 
 
 ^ Dorsa, 91. 
 
252 RITUAL AND BELIEF 
 
 mourning is not confined to Europe, though widely 
 spread there. The "weepers" and other crape trappings 
 stiU in use in France, but for the most part abandoned 
 in this country, are probably relics of it. It is found 
 among nations sundered as far as the Eskimo on the 
 shores of the frozen ocean from the tribes of the Eastern 
 Archipelago and Melanesia. The veil is sometimes worn 
 without intermission. Among the Minuanes of South 
 America the widow carefully covers her face with her 
 hair, notwithstanding she remains for several days in the 
 hut.^ About Bering Strait the housemates of a deceased 
 Eskimo must remain in their accustomed places in the 
 house during the four days following the death, while the 
 ghost is believed to be still about. During this time all 
 of them must keep their fur hoods drawn over their 
 heads, not to deceive the dead man, but " to prevent the 
 influence of the shade from entering their heads and 
 killing them." * Where the mourners are confined more 
 or less to the house, however, the custom of veiling is 
 often, perhaps usually, more stringent on going out of 
 doors than when they are inside in the dark. In the 
 lower culture the women at least are frequently confined 
 to the house, and only go out in case of necessity at 
 night, or at early morning and evening to weep at the 
 grave. But the Calabrian women would more naturally 
 go out of doors, if at all, by day ; hence they would 
 be more closely veiled by day ; and at night, when they 
 would not go out, they might wear their ordinary head- 
 dress of a white handkerchief. It is at least curious that 
 they themselves assume that they would be recognized 
 at night through the disguise by " il demonio" who has 
 doubtless succeeded to the pre-Christian terrors of the 
 other world ; and they declare it is lest he should rejoice 
 
 ' Int. Arch., xiii., SuppL, 76. 2 j^^p ^ ^^ xviii.1315. 
 
PHILOSOPHY OF MOURNING CLOTHES 253 
 
 over their sorrow — to deceive him as to that, and not as 
 to their identity — that they dofF the discomfort of the 
 veil. For the same reason they take the opportunity 
 to suspend their wailing, which to be sure is not as a 
 rule anywhere absolutely continuous : human nature 
 could not endure it. 
 
 Taboo is the most contagious of diseases. Mourning 
 garb is its outward and visible sign, and a warning to 
 all who would otherwise come into contact with the 
 mourner. The veil in particular may be compared with 
 the head-coverings and seclusion required of girls arriving 
 at maturity. At that period they also are under taboo. 
 Among the Eskimo, the tribes of British Columbia, many 
 of the South American tribes and the Bantu tribes of 
 Africa, and over a considerable area in the south of 
 Asia, the Indian Ocean and Melanesia, adolescent girls are 
 confined for a longer or shorter time where they cannot 
 be seen, or kept covered if they go out of doors. They 
 are very sensitive to the influence of the sun.^ But it 
 is not merely that the sun would afFect them ; their very 
 glance is deleterious. A Thlinkit girl wears a hat with long 
 flaps, that her glance may not pollute the sky. Among 
 the Tsetsaut it is believed that if she were to expose her 
 face to the sun or the sky, rain would fall.^ So the 
 Hupa grave-digger in California is under a taboo. He 
 has come into contact with death, and . is required after 
 the funeral to carry a bough of Douglas spruce over his 
 head, " that he may not by any chance glance at the sky 
 or at any human being, thereby contaminating them."* 
 On the island of Mabuiag, if a maturing girl's own father 
 see her, he will have bad luck in fishing, and probably 
 
 ' Frazer, Balder, i. 22 sqq. ; Hartland, Prim. Pat, i. 89 sqq. 
 
 2 Frazer, I.e., 45, 46. 
 
 5 Goddard, Univ. Cal. Pub., i. 72. 
 
254 RITUAL AND BELIEF 
 
 smash his canoe the next time he goes in it.^ So far 
 as I am aware, there is no intention in veiling a girl at 
 puberty to disguise her so as to delude any spiritual foe. 
 It is true that both she and the mourners at a death 
 (including all who take part in the death -rites) are 
 exposed to special dangers. That is because they are 
 alike in a state of taboo. They are thus also dangerous 
 to others. They must be secluded ; or if they venture 
 abroad they must be either covered or so garbed as to 
 keep other persons at a distance. 
 
 That the same reasons apply, at all events among some 
 tribes, to the veiling of the faces of widows and widowers 
 appears from the customs of the Lkungen of Vancouver 
 Island. After a burial " the whole tribe go down to the 
 sea, wash their heads, bathe, and cut their hair. The 
 nearer related a person is to the deceased, the shorter 
 he cuts his hair. Those who do not belong to the 
 deceased's family merely clip the ends of their hair. . . . 
 Widow and widower, after the death of wife or husband, 
 are forbidden to cut their hair, as they would gain too 
 great power over the souls and the welfare of others. 
 They must remain alone at their fire for a long time, 
 and are forbidden to mingle with other people. When 
 they eat, nobody must see them. They must keep their 
 faces covered for ten days. They fast for two days after 
 burial and are not allowed to speak. After two days they 
 may speak a little ; but before addressing anyone they 
 must go into the woods and clean themselves in ponds 
 and with cedar-branches. If they wish to harm an enemy 
 they call his name when taking their first meal after the 
 fast, and bite very hard in eating. It is believed that- 
 this will kill him. They must not go near the water, 
 or eat fresh salmon, as the latter might be driven away. 
 
 ' Frazer, Balder, i 36. 
 
PHILOSOPHY OF MOURNING CLOTHES 255 
 
 They must not eat warm food, else their teeth would 
 fall out." ^ This account shows that the widow or 
 widower is dangerous to other people, and consequently 
 in a state of taboo. It further shows that the fast and 
 privation of society arid comfort that such a mourner 
 undergoes materially increase his orenda, giving him power 
 to kill his enemy by sympathetic magic, or even render- 
 ing him a peril to his own community if he add to the 
 severity of his penance by cutting his hair, as a mourner 
 who is not so nearly related to the deceased does. All 
 this is in accord with the principles underlying the taboo 
 and fast of girls and boys at puberty. There can be 
 very little doubt that it is dictated by similar motives. 
 If so, the covering of the face is, here at least, not in- 
 tended to disguise the mourner and conceal him from the 
 ghost. It is an integral portion of his taboo. It helps to 
 safeguard the well-being of the surviving members of his 
 community, and to make his own orenda more powerful. 
 It is no part of my case to deny that mourning garb 
 is ever intended to deceive the ghost. Customs difFer so 
 much in different cultural areas that it is quite possible 
 there may be some instances in which the intention is to 
 disguise the mourner by way of precaution against the 
 deceased. Professor Frazer has brought forward two 
 cases, and only two, so far as I am aware, in which this 
 object is avowed. The first is found in the western 
 districts of the island of Timor. When a man dies and 
 before his body is put into a coffin, his wives stand weep- 
 ing over it with their village gossips, " all with loosened 
 hair, in order to make themselves unrecognizable by the 
 nitu (spirit) of the dead." ^ I have not seen the authority 
 
 1 Boaz, Brit. Ass. Rep., i8go, 575. 
 
 ^ Tylor Essays, no, citing Riedel, Deutsche Geographische Blatter, 
 X. 286. 
 
256 RITUAL AND BELIEF 
 
 he cites ; therefore I do not know whether we are given 
 any information how a widow in these districts habitually 
 wears her hair. For aught that appears here, the hair is 
 loosened only for this ceremony, which comes to an end 
 with the enclosure of the corpse in the cof&n, and may 
 not last for more than an hour or two. If so, whatever 
 be the reason for hindering the ghost from identifying 
 the participants, the loosening of the hair may not be, 
 strictly speaking, part of the mourning garb. 
 
 The other case is a practice occasionally in use among 
 the Herero. When a dying man intimates to one of his 
 relatives and friends, who crowd around him at such a 
 time, that he has " decided upon taking him away after 
 his death," that is to say, that he will kill him (fetch him 
 to the other world), the person so threatened has recourse 
 to an onganga, or witch-doctor. This functionary strips 
 him, washes and greases him afresh, and dresses him in 
 other clothes. " He is now quite at his ease about the 
 threatening of death caused by the deceased ; for, says 
 he : ' Now, our father does not know me.' " The 
 survivors, however, may fulfil the threat.^ This certainly 
 does appear to be a case of disguise, or at least a change 
 of clothes in order to deceive the deceased ; but the 
 substituted clothes do not appear to be mourning garb, 
 and the problem of mourning garb is what we are 
 endeavouring to solve. 
 
 That protection is needed against the ghost of the 
 recently dead is clear. AU over the world there is fear 
 of ghosts. Protection, however, is not commonly sought 
 in disguise, even in extreme cases. It is frequently 
 sought, as against other supernatural foes, in fire. The 
 custom is so well known that it need not now detain us.* 
 
 1 S. Afr. F. L.Journ., i. 51. > 
 
 2 See for example the cases collected by Dr Frazer,_/. A. /., xv. 84, 85 
 
PHILOSOPHY OF MOURNING CLOTHES 257 
 
 The Ewhe widow provides herself with a club, burns 
 pungent powders and takes other precautions from assault, 
 or even approach, by the deceased. A widower does 
 the same. In both cases the event to be dreaded is the 
 attempt by the deceased to renew conjugal relations. 
 This danger assumes recognition by the ghost. So far 
 from seeking to elude it, she goes entirely naked. The 
 lot, whether of widow or widower, is not happy, though 
 here, as elsewhere, the woman gets the worst of it : she 
 must be defended for six weeks, while seven or eight 
 days suffice for him.-^ The Charrua mourner in South 
 America went forth into the wilderness armed with a 
 stick.^ The Eskimo of Bering Strait indeed wear fur 
 hoods, but, as we have seen, they are a direct defence 
 against the penetrative influence of the ghost, not a 
 disguise. The Koryak, the Timorlaut islanders, the 
 Ngoulango of the Ivory Coast seek refuge in a talisman 
 or amulet.^ 
 
 The amulet preserved by the son of the deceased 
 Timorlaut islander is a piece of his father's nail. Accord- 
 ing to the rules of sympathetic magic he preserves in this 
 way his corporal union with the deceased, and thereby 
 ensures his protection. The widow or widower does not 
 take a portion of the body, but wears a piece of the 
 clothing. This obviously is intended to have the same 
 effect. The practice is not unknown elsewhere. In 
 Syria when a man dies his wife puts on one of his 
 garments and sings funeral songs.* Dr Junker relates 
 that he witnessed the ceremonies on the death of the 
 ruler of Kabajendi, who had lived almost all his life 
 
 1 Supra, p. 209. 
 
 * Int. Arch., xiii., Suppl. 72. 
 
 3 Jesup. Exped., vi. 113 ; Riedel, 307 ; Clozel, 363. 
 
 ' Journ. Am. F. L., xvi. 137. 
 
 17 
 
258 RITUAL AND BELIEF 
 
 among the A-sande and was mourned according to their 
 rites. His wives, after wailing beside the coffin, marched 
 through the zeriba and pretended to search in every hole 
 and corner, crying out to him, creeping in and out on 
 hands and knees under the overhanging thatch of the 
 roofs, then gathering and starting again on further ex- 
 plorations, all the while howling, shrieking, and lamenting. 
 The next morning those of them who could manage to 
 possess themselves of any article of his clothing put it 
 on, marching round the village thus attired in a continual 
 procession or dance, while others carried sword, lances, 
 clubs, climbing plants, maize-cobs, and so forth, their 
 heads strewn with ashes. This performance lasted for a 
 fortnight, despite the tropical rain.^ 
 
 Some light on this fantastic promenade may be thrown 
 by the proceedings of the Bangala women. In the Boloki 
 district, "when a man of any position died his wives 
 would throw off their dresses and wear old rags (some- 
 times they would go absolutely naked), pick up anything 
 belonging to him — his chair, spear, pipe, mug, knife, 
 shield or blanket — anything that came first to hand ; and 
 having covered their bodies with a coating of clay, they 
 would parade the town in ones, or twos, or threes, crying 
 bitterly and calling upon him to return to them. They 
 would stop at times in their crying and say : ' He is 
 gone to So-and-so ; we will go and find him ' ; and away 
 they would start off in a business-like fashion in their 
 pretended search for him. This parading they would 
 keep up for a day or two, and then women of the town 
 would bedeck themselves with climbing plants, vines, 
 
 ^ Frobenius, Heiden-Neger, 408. Compare the widows' dance among 
 the Wawanga in the Elgon District, British East Africa (/. A. I., xliii. 36). 
 Among the Ibo-speaking people of Nigeria, at Aguku, the women of the 
 quarter in which a death has occurred march round at midnight and sing 
 (Thomas, Ibo, i. 80). 
 
PHILOSOPHY OF MOURNING CLOTHES 259 
 
 leaves, and bunches of twigs ; and, forming themselves 
 into a procession, they would march through the town 
 chanting the praises of the deceased. Men would paint 
 and arm themselves as for a fight, and would imitate the 
 daring acts of the departed as a warrior ; and if he had 
 been remarkable for fighting on the river, they would 
 arrange a sham canoe-fight in his honour. ... It was an 
 amusing and interesting sight, and seemed to be thoroughly 
 enjoyed both by actors and spectators alike. They called 
 this praising or honouring the dead." ^ 
 
 It has been suggested that the wearing of a portion of 
 the clothing of the dead is intended to delude him into 
 the belief that those who do so are themselves dead, and 
 so to turn aside his attack.* No proof, so far as I am 
 aware, has been offered for the suggestion. Whatever 
 the exact intention of the A-sande rite (and its equivalence 
 with the Boloki rite is obvious), it can hardly be tortured 
 into this. The ghost must be stupid indeed who cannot 
 distinguish his own clothing and personal chattels when 
 carried about by his wives. To wear the clothing of the 
 deceased identifies the mourner with him, sometimes for 
 the purpose of protection by means of sympathetic magic, 
 sometimes for the presentation of the dead man in funeral 
 ceremonies like those of the Torres Straits islanders or 
 the Musquakie Indians.^ Where this is not the object, 
 to put on his coat and to carry his mug or his spear in 
 procession may be due, as it seems to be here, to some 
 vague idea of honouring him, or perhaps of inducing him 
 to return. The supposition that it is intended to deceive 
 the ghost may be safely discarded. 
 
 In more general terms it has been conjectured that 
 
 1 Weeks, 104, 321. 
 
 2 Kruijt, 272. 
 
 ^ Striking examples will be found in von den Steinen, 506 ; and 
 Smirnov, i. 143, 366. 
 
26o RITUAL AND BELIEF 
 
 mourning rites are intended to express union with the 
 departed by obligatory, if partial, participation of his 
 state, that by virtue of the contagion of death the 
 mourners have become really changed and are for a 
 time as if they were dead, hence they must eat, clothe, 
 and conduct themselves as far as possible like the dead.'^ 
 Lastly, it has been pointed out that many of the 
 observances imposed on mourners are a return to more 
 primitive and savage conditions — such as sitting on the 
 bare earth, going naked or wearing only the roughest and 
 coarsest stuffs, and abstaining from good food in favour 
 of wild berries and roots ; — and the question has been 
 put whether this may not be the essence of mourning.* 
 There is probably some measure of truth in both these 
 suggestions ; but they must not be pressed too far. 
 Many of the rites and usages are intended beyond 
 question to express sympathy for the deceased, and a 
 temporary segregation with him from ordinary life. 
 
 But they go further : in all the greater degrees of 
 mourning at least they indicate grief at his loss that is 
 calculated to call down the pity and compassion of every 
 beholder, and to deprecate the wrath or ill-humour of 
 the deceased. It is very striking that while coarse and 
 scanty garments (sackcloth or bark-cloths among peoples 
 who usually wear cotton or wool, and mere loin-cloths 
 or nothing at all among peoples usually clad) are worn 
 in place of more luxurious stufFs, a frequently recur- 
 ring prescription is old worn-out clothes. In the Tonga 
 Islands the mourners (who are always women) are 
 " habited in large old ragged mats — the more ragged, the 
 more fit for the occasion, as being more emblematical of 
 a spirit broken down, or, as it were, torn to pieces by 
 
 » Rev. Hist. Rel., be 358. 
 
 2 Prof. E. Monseur, ibid., liii. 290 sqg. 
 
PHILOSOPHY OF MOURNING CLOTHES 261 
 
 grief." ^ In the hinterland of the Sherbro in West Africa, 
 on the mourning for a chief's death, the people most 
 closely connected with him " presented an unkempt and 
 slovenly appearance, their bodies draped in the oldest and 
 dirtiest of their cloths."^ Among the Baganda on the 
 other side of the continent the mourning garb for an 
 ordinary man is " old bark-cloths and a girdle of dry 
 plantain leaves : the hair is unkempt, the nails are allowed 
 to grow long like birds' claws, and on the chest is a 
 white patch, a mixture of water and ashes." ^ The 
 custom of strewing ashes on the person is very widely 
 practised : more than one example has been incidentally 
 given. Among the Hebrews its use was not confined to 
 mourning for the dead ; repentance in dust and ashes is a 
 familiar figure in English speech, and is derived from the 
 Bible. The general air of neglect and misery produced 
 by these practices might be paralleled in the mourning 
 customs of most countries. Even in our own island little 
 more than a hundred years ago it was noted that the 
 chief mourner at a funeral in the parish of Llanvetherine, 
 Monmouthshire, and elsewhere wore a dirty cloth about 
 his head.* And of many peoples the description by a 
 French writer of the mourning garb among the Agni of 
 Sanwi on the Ivory Coast would hold literally true : " Old 
 black loin-cloths, unwashed for a long time. On ne 
 se p eigne fas — on ne fait pas de toilette — on reste modes te."^ 
 
 This is not all. Mourners fast, abstaining altogether 
 from food or indulging only in restricted diet, and that 
 of an inferior kind. On the island of Aurora all who 
 are in mourning refrain from certain food. The 
 immediate relatives may not eat any cultivated food. 
 
 1 Mariner, i. 311. ^ AUdridge, 119. 
 
 ' /. A- I; xxxii. 47. ^ Brand and Ellis, ii. 187 note. 
 
 ' Clozel, 179. 
 
262 RITUAL AND BELIEF 
 
 They are limited to gigantic caladium, bread-fruit, cocoa- 
 nuts, mallow, and other things which must be sought in 
 the bush where they grow.^ The ancient Hurons were 
 forbidden, even in cold weather, to eat warm food.* 
 Among the Charruas of South America the adult sons 
 of a dead man remain for two days entirely naked in 
 their huts and almost without food.* In Togoland the 
 Ewhe widow is forbidden beans, flesh, fish, palm-wine 
 and rum ; any infringement of these prohibitions would 
 cost her life.* 
 
 Many nations add to their other rites that of laceration 
 or even mutilation of the body. In Central Australia 
 the Warramunga women fight with one another and cut 
 one another's scalps, and all who stand in any near 
 relation to the deceased, reckoned according to the 
 classificatory system — which greatly widens the area of 
 relationship — also cut their own scalps open with yam- 
 sticks, the actual widows even searing the wound with 
 red-hot fire-sticks.* It was forbidden to the ancient 
 Hebrews, by what was evidently a reform of a pre- 
 existing custom, to make a baldness between the eyes 
 for the dead — in other words, to cut themselves on the 
 brow.* Among the Arawaks a drinking-feast is held, at 
 which all the men of the village assemble and scourge 
 one another with whips made of a climbing plant, until 
 the blood runs in streams and strips of skin and muscle 
 hang down. Those who participate in the rite often die 
 of their wounds.^ As if mere wounding were not enough, 
 
 1 Codrington, 281. 
 
 2 Rep. B. E., V. Ill, traj\s\aX\a^ Jesuit Relations. 
 5 Int. Arch., xiii., Suppl. 72. 
 
 * Globus, Ixxii. 22. 
 s Spencer and Gillen, A'. T., 531. 
 8 Deut xiv. I. 
 
 ' Int. Arch., xiii., Suppl. 71. Sir Everard im Thurn throws doubt upon 
 this as a funeral rite {F. L., xii. 141). 
 
PHILOSOPHY OF MOURNING CLOTHES 263 
 
 finger-joints are frequently cut off. In the Fiji Islands 
 the amputation of a finger-joint is a common sign of 
 mourning. In one case in Tonga when a king died 
 orders were issued that one hundred fingers should be 
 cut ofF.^ In Montana, one of the north-western states 
 of America, on the execution of four aborigines for 
 murder in December 1 8 90, they were mourned by two 
 squaws, who scalped their children. One of them gashed 
 her own face, while the other cut off two of her fingers 
 and threw them into the grave.^ When a Charrua dies 
 his widow and his married daughters and sisters amputate 
 each of them a finger-joint, besides inflicting other wounds 
 on themselves.* 
 
 The illustration of practices like these might be multi- 
 plied indefinitely. The same reason holds good for them 
 all. In the lower culture grief at a death is often in- 
 tensified by fear — on the one hand, of an accusation of 
 witchcraft — on the other hand, of the ill-will of the 
 deceased himself, who is naturally disgusted to find 
 himself dead. Against the latter danger at any rate the 
 forlorn condition of the survivors, stiffs with wounds, 
 thrust like him from the company of their friends and 
 feUow-tribesmen, made to wear a distinctive garb, often 
 in rags or dirt, wailing, watching, fasting, would con- 
 stitute an appeal that even the ghost of a savage would 
 feel hard to resist. That this is actually the effect 
 intended, in some instances at least, is certain. A widow 
 among the Salivas of South America cuts her hair, and 
 is not allowed to anoint herself as usual, nor to wear 
 any ornament, in order, we are expressly told, not to 
 irritate the departed, but to humble herself before him.* 
 
 1 Williams, Fiji, 169. 
 
 2 Dix-neuviime Siicle, 26th December 1890. 
 
 3 Int. Arch., xiii., Suppl. 72. * Ibid., 77. 
 
264 RITUAL AND BELIEF 
 
 Nor must it be overlooked that wailing and lamenting, 
 so usually part of the rites practised especially by the 
 chief mourners, such as widows and near relations, would 
 not favour concealment. On the contrary, they would 
 draw attention to the grief, and help even the simplest 
 and most easily deluded of ghosts to identify the mourner, 
 which they would seem indeed to be meant to do. But 
 they would powerfully deprecate his malice or revenge. 
 In this connection the belief of the Banarwanda on the 
 east of Lake Kivu, in German East Africa, is interesting. 
 To them the bazimu (plural of muzimu) or souls of the 
 departed are by no means always kindly disposed, even 
 the best of them. They must be continually propitiated 
 with offerings, or they will cause calamities, either of 
 themselves directly, or indirectly by setting in motion 
 the imandwa, semi-apotheosized heroes. But the muzimu 
 does not begin his mischievous activities until the mourn- 
 ing ceremonies are at an end. So long as they last the 
 survivors are quite safe from him, for he will not during 
 that period attack the living.^ 
 
 Many customs, sometimes born of widely difFering 
 motives, converge in a similarity of expression. Hence 
 it is impossible in the present state of our knowledge 
 dogmatically to assert a single origin for practices of a 
 like character extending over so wide an area as those 
 we have just passed in review. They are the expression 
 of the psychological reaction caused by the shock of 
 death and the consequent breach of the circle of kinship 
 or other social bonds. The taboo results from the 
 bewilderment and terror caused by the entry of death 
 into the circle. The conduct and garb of the mourners 
 are the outcome of grief and sympathy, but also of fear. 
 That fear has for its object survivors who have it in their 
 ' Father Alex. Arnoux, Anthropos, vii. 288. 
 
PHILOSOPHY OF MOURNING CLOTHES 265 
 
 power to involve the mourners in even a more terrible 
 doom by an accusation of witchcraft. Even more, it has 
 regard to death itself, and to the inimical designs of him 
 whose earthly life has been severed, and who has thereby 
 been converted into an envious, and if not a malicious, 
 at least a peevish and easily angered, being, armed by his 
 death with greater, because more mysterious, powers. 
 Mourning garb is often a device to secure his com- 
 passion ; it is often a defence against his overt attacks ; 
 but on the whole tangible proof is lacking that it is a 
 disguise to deceive him. 
 
THE RITE AT THE TEMPLE 
 OF MYLITTA 
 
 Among the religious rites of antiquity there was none 
 more alien to modern feeling than the sacrifice of chastity 
 by every Babylonian woman at the temple of Mylitta. 
 It is described first and in most detail by Herodotus, 
 whose denunciation of it shows that to the Greeks of 
 the fifth century b.c. it was as abhorrent as it is to us. 
 According to this account, every woman once in her life 
 was required to sit down in the precincts of the temple 
 of Mylitta wearing a wreath of cord about her head, 
 and there to wait until a stranger should throw a silver 
 coin into her lap and summon her with ritual words in 
 the name of the goddess to follow him. She was not 
 allowed to refuse, but was compelled to follow the first 
 man who threw, and to have sexual intercourse with him 
 outside the temple. She might then depart to her home, 
 her duty to the goddess being fulfilled.'' The historian 
 lets fall the observation that there was a similar custom 
 in some places in Cyprus. This has been supposed to 
 be referred to by Justin, who wrote probably after the 
 establishment of Christianity, but whose work consists 
 of selections from Trogus Pompeius, a lost writer of 
 the Augustan age. He reports that it was the Cypriote 
 custom to send maidens before their marriage on certain 
 days to seek their dowry by prostitution on the seashore, 
 
 * Herod., i. 199 ; Strabo, xvi. i, 20. Further details are supplied by the 
 Epistle of Jeremy appended to the apocryphal Book of Baruch. 
 
 266 
 
RITE AT THE TEMPLE OF MYLITTA 267 
 
 and to pay the offerings to Venus for their future chastity. 
 Dido on her way to Carthage touched at the island 
 at the very time, and took on board her fleet eighty 
 of these damsels, to be wives to her followers and assist 
 in peopling the city she was going to found.^ We shall 
 further consider Justin's statement hereafter. For the 
 moment we pass on to Heliopolis (Baalbec), where, the 
 ecclesiastical historian Socrates afBrms, virgins were 
 offered in prostitution to strangers.* He does not, any 
 more than Justin, connect this with a temple or a divinity ; 
 but from Sozomen we gather that it was a religious 
 observance, inasmuch as the prostitution of virgins prior 
 to their marriage is stated to have been abolished by 
 Constantine when he destroyed the temple of Aphrodite.^ 
 A similar custom, according to iElian, was followed by 
 the Lydians. And he expressly says that when once the 
 rite had been performed the woman remained ever after- 
 wards chaste, nor would a repetition be forgiven her on 
 any plea.* Herodotus, however, states that the daughters 
 of the common people in Lydia earned their dowries by 
 a life of prostitution.^ The two writers are obviously 
 referring to two different customs. A third custom 
 distinct from either is mentioned by Strabo as practised 
 by the Armenians, among whom even the highest families 
 of the nation consecrated their virgin daughters to the 
 service of the goddess Anaitis, to remain as prostitutes 
 at her temple before their marriage.* 
 
 1 Justin, xviii. 5. ^ Socrates, Hist. Eccl., i. 18. 
 
 * Sozomen, Hist. Eccl., v. 10. 
 
 * ^lian, Var. Hist., iv. i. Dr Farnell {Greece and Bab., 271 note, 273 
 sqq.) considers that the Lydian practice was identical with that of the 
 Armenians, referred to just below. This is possible. The lady who com- 
 memorated at Tralles her dedication for this purpose (see below, p. 273) 
 seems to have been a Lydian. In either case it was a religious practice, 
 though .(Elian does not explicitly say so. His account in fact is vague. 
 
 6 Herod., i. 93. ' Strabo, xi. 14, 16. 
 
268 RITUAL AND BELIEF 
 
 What is the relation of these three customs ? They 
 have usually been considered as closely connected. It 
 may be, as Dr Frazer suspects, that the real motive for 
 the custom described as that of earning dowries by pro- 
 stitution was religious, rather than economical, although 
 my own suspicions point in another direction. But 
 putting that custom aside for further examination, both 
 the others are certainly portrayed as religious. As 
 practised by the nations of Western Asia for a thousand 
 years prior to the fall of paganism they were annexed 
 to the cult of certain divinities. There is, however, a 
 broad distinction to be drawn between a custom requiring 
 every woman once in her lifetime to submit to the 
 embraces of a stranger, and one which consecrated a life 
 of prostitution. Such a life was one of devotion to the 
 goddess as a more or less permanent servant. The other 
 custom demanded a single act which freed the worshipper 
 for the rest of her days. It may be freely conceded that 
 the goddess at whose temple, or on whose feast-day, the 
 act was performed was endowed with similar characteristics 
 to those of the goddess in whose service the life of 
 prostitution was lived. It may even have been that 
 sometimes the same goddess had bands of harlots attached 
 to her shrine, and also required the sacrifice of the 
 virginity of all other women in the manner described. 
 This perhaps, as we shall see, was the case in Lydia. We 
 should still need to investigate separately the two customs. 
 One of the most fertile sources of error in the inter- 
 pretation of custom is the fatal tendency of rites distinct, 
 or even altogether different in origin and intention, but 
 similar in expression, to converge. This convergence is 
 accelerated by a variety of causes. The natural vagueness 
 of tradition, the forgetfulness of the exact original meaning, 
 the gradual predominance of one idea over another owing 
 
RITE AT THE TEMPLE OF MYLITTA 269 
 
 to circumstances which, for want of knowledge, we call 
 accidental, the tendency to repeat by way of precaution 
 in one rite acts which essentially belong to another, are 
 all causes of the kind referred to. Moreover, we have 
 so often found in the similarity of rite the real key to a 
 common interpretation, that where convergence does not 
 in fact occur there is a temptation to read identity of 
 meaning into two rites having a superficial likeness. It 
 behoves us, therefore, to be on our guard, and to scrutinize 
 with some scepticism all cases where the identity both of 
 act and intention is not demonstrably complete. 
 
 The practices I have enumerated have all been inter- 
 preted as expiations for marriage. Marriage, it is said, — 
 the appropriation of one or more women to one man — is 
 an evolution from the primeval condition of promiscuity. 
 Religious prostitution, the jus prima noctts and other 
 customs are expiations exacted by society from women 
 who are thus appropriated. They witness to the primeval 
 common rights of the male sex, thus asserted for the last 
 time by one or more on behalf of all on abandoning 
 the woman to the exclusive possession of one of their 
 number. 
 
 Now, if the interpretation in question be suitable for 
 any of these customs, it is more suitable for the single 
 rite such as that at the temple of Mylitta than for the 
 exercise of prostitution over an extended period ; and it is 
 to this rite that I desire more particularly to call attention. 
 I need hardly observe that the explanation of the rite as 
 an expiation for marriage does not by any means follow 
 of necessity from the theory of primitive promiscuity. 
 On the contrary it overlooks one of the peculiar features 
 of the rite. Alike at Babylon, at Heliopolis, and 
 apparently at Cyprus (if Cyprus be a case in point) the 
 act has to be accomplished with a stranger. If it were 
 
270 RITUAL AND BELIEF 
 
 a forfeit rendered to the general body of men, who might 
 have had a claim to temporary union but for the institution 
 of marriage, or if it were a formal witness of that claim, 
 it would seem, prima facie, more natural that it should 
 be accomplished with some one or more of the claimants, 
 that is to say, with a member or members of the same 
 community. A similar rite of intercourse with a stranger 
 was practised, as Lucian relates, at Byblus. There it was 
 the custom at the mourning for Adonis to perform the 
 well-known mourning rite of cutting off the hair. Any 
 woman who refused to do this was required to exhibit 
 herself on one day of the festival and undergo prostitution 
 to one of the strangers who resorted thither, handing 
 over the price to the goddess called by Lucian the 
 Byblian Aphrodite.^ The rite as there practised therefore 
 was, at all events in the second century a.d., an alternative 
 to the dedication of hair : it was a redemption for the 
 tresses that should have been sacrificed. Thus the woman 
 would repeat the expiation once a year, whether married 
 or single, so long as she was unwilling to shear her locks, 
 or preferred the alternative sacrifice of her chastity. 
 There is no evidence that it ever had anything to do 
 with marriage ; it certainly had not when Lucian wrote. 
 
 The rite at Byblus must, however, be distinguished 
 from those we are considering. They were performed by 
 every woman without alternative, but they were performed 
 only once. If they were an expiation for marriage we 
 should expect to find them described as part of the 
 marriage rites. The Balearic islanders, the Nasamonians 
 and the Auziles in antiquity had, as well as many modern 
 savages, such rites, whether or not they can be properly 
 explained as an expiation for marriage. But at the 
 most the rites with which we are now concerned were a 
 ' Lucian, De Dea Syria, 6. 
 
RITE AT THE TEMPLE OF MYLITTA 271 
 
 preliminary to marriage — a necessary preliminary, perhaps, 
 but one that might have been accomplished at any period 
 before it. Indeed, so far as appears from Herodotus, 
 the victim, if we may call her so, of the Babylonian rite 
 was not necessarily unmarried. But comparison of the 
 accounts of the practice at Heliopolis, in Lydia and in 
 Cyprus renders it fairly certain that it was only unmarried 
 women who were subjected to it, and that it was essen- 
 tially a sacrifice of maidenhood. A passing reference by 
 Eusebius has been interpreted to imply that at Heliopolis 
 both married women and girls were prostituted in the 
 service of the goddess.^ But Eusebius says nothing 
 about the goddess. His reference must be construed 
 in the light of Socrates' statement that women were by 
 the law of the country required to be common, and 
 hence the offspring was doubtful, for there was no distinc- 
 tion between fathers and children.^ Whatever else those 
 phrases may mean, they entirely negative the theory of 
 expiation for marriage. But they do not refer to the 
 custom of prostituting virgins to strangers, which the 
 historian expressly distinguishes. 
 
 It may be objected to this reading of Herodotus that 
 while he uses the generic term women (ywaiKei) in speak- 
 ing of the victims, on the other hand, in a previous 
 chapter referring to the Babylonian marriage customs, he 
 
 1 Eusebius, Viia Const, iii. 58 ; Frazer, Adonis, 1906, 22 note 2. I am 
 uncertain how far Professor Frazer adheres to this interpretation (see 
 Adonic, 33 note). Eusebius, it is true, was a contemporary ; but he was 
 a bitter partizan, and wrote in a rhetorical style, exaggerating everything 
 that could bring glory to his hero Constantine. Socrates, on the other 
 hand, was a lawyer, a man of wider and more liberal views, and of fairer 
 judgement. Sozomen too was a lawyer. They wrote a century later ; but 
 they wrote at Constantinople, and probably had access to official docu- 
 ments. To my mind, if their statements be irreconcilable, these qualifica- 
 tions entitle them to greater credit than the not-too-scrupulous ecclesiastic. 
 
 ^ Socrates, loc. cit. 
 
272 RITUAL AND BELIEF 
 
 reports that once a year in every village the marriage- 
 able maidens (jrapQivoL) were aU put up to auction, the 
 respective purchasers being required to give security 
 that they would marry them ; and it was unlawful to 
 give them in marriage in any other way. The objection 
 is of little weight. It is needless to consider whether 
 we are to understand the specific term irapOivoi literally. 
 Even if so, there would doubtless be ample time for the 
 performance of the rite at the temple of Mylitta between 
 the auction and the marriage. It does not appear that 
 marriage followed the auction immediately. Had that 
 been contemplated, security would hardly have been 
 necessary. When the anniversary came round all the 
 maidens who had during the preceding year attained 
 puberty and thus become ripe for marriage (ydfiwv wpaiai) 
 were probably put up. Those who had not previously 
 undergone the rite would, if my interpretation be correct, 
 be required to submit to it before marriage. 
 
 It is superfluous to discuss other and obvious objec- 
 tions to the theory of expiation for marriage. But the 
 appearance of prostitution which the rite presents demands 
 further consideration. At Babylon, although a piece of 
 money passed, the payment seems to have been merely 
 pro forma. It mattered not how small the coin was, it 
 could not be refused. Whatever it was, Strabo tells 
 us it was considered as consecrated to the goddess. 
 Lastly, the rite once performed, no gift, were it ever so 
 great, would be accepted to repeat it. The details of 
 the rite at Heliopolis and among the Lydians have not 
 been preserved to us ; but we may with probability infer 
 that they were similar. In Lydia, indeed, if we are to 
 trust both NXxxa. and Herodotus, two distinct customs 
 are traceable, namely, the sacrifice of virginity and the 
 life of prostitution to earn a dowry. A Greek inscription 
 
RITE AT THE TEMPLE OF MYLITTA 273 
 
 of the second century a.d., found at Tralles and referred 
 to by Dr Frazer, discloses also the existence of religious 
 prostitution by girls expressly chosen by the god and 
 set apart for that end.^ This is a similar custom to that 
 of the Armenian girls already mentioned, and is not 
 to be confounded with the prostitution mentioned by 
 the Father of History as practised by all the daughters 
 of the common people. Whatever may have been the 
 origin of the latter, the other two in the time of iElian 
 were connected with religion. On the island of Cyprus 
 we seem to find much the same state of things. If we 
 may believe Justin, the maidens earned their dowry by 
 prostitution. From other sources we learn that there 
 were mysteries of the Cypriote Aphrodite, which were 
 said to have been instituted by Cinyras, king of Paphos 
 and father of Adonis. Into these mysteries there was 
 a regular initiation. Sexual matters no doubt formed 
 their staple teaching ; and what classical and especially 
 apologetic writers would call prostitution would be practised. 
 The legend ran that the daughters of Cinyras, through 
 the wrath of Aphrodite, united themselves with strangers.^ 
 Probably it was believed to be in imitation of them that 
 the maidens of Cyprus sought prostitution on the sea- 
 shore. In any case the story indicates, as Dr Frazer has 
 pointed out, " that the princesses of Paphos had to 
 conform to the custom as well as the women of humble 
 birth," But if this be so, the object of the harlotry 
 alleged by Justin falls to the ground, since it would 
 be unnecessary for princesses to earn their dowry. It 
 may be suspected, therefore, that Justin or his authority 
 has confounded two disparate customs, that of earning the 
 
 1 Ramsay, i. 94, 115 ; Frazer, Adonis, 34. Such religious prostitutes 
 were, of course, common in Western Asia. Cf. Strabo, xii. 3, 36. 
 
 2 Clement of Alexandria, Protrept., ii ; Arnobius, Adv. Genies, v. 19 ; 
 Firmicus Maternus, De Errore Prof. Rel, x ; Apollodorus, Bibl., iii. 14, 3. 
 
 18 
 
274 RITUAL AND BELIEF 
 
 dowry bjr prostitution, and that of a religious sacrifice of 
 virginity in connection with the mysteries of Aphrodite, 
 in which the other party to the rite was a stranger. Only 
 thus can we satisfactorily explain the limitation of the 
 practice to stated days, probably festivals of Aphrodite, 
 and the phrase about paying the ofFerings to her for 
 future chastity. 
 
 The money payment, whether large or small, was in 
 the Byblian rite, as in the Babylonian and (if I interpret 
 correctly) in the Cypriote rites, consecrated to the 
 goddess. We may infer that the same was the case 
 wherever else the rite was performed. At Byblus it 
 was the alternative to the consecration of the woman's 
 hair. Prostitution — that is, sexual intercourse for hire — 
 is not a primitive practice. The appearance of prostitu- 
 tion in connection with religion may be accounted for by 
 the influence upon the religious practice of the general 
 practice of harlots. Analogy would suggest that inter- 
 course other than conjugal or the satisfaction of the 
 genuine passion of love demanded a monetary considera- 
 tion. But when that intercourse was the performance 
 of a religious duty the money was not kept as gain by 
 the woman. It was not earned for herself, but devoted 
 to the goddess. Where bands of " harlots " were attached 
 to a temple their earnings probably went to swell the 
 temple funds out of which they were supported.^ It 
 may accordingly be suggested that the hire was not an 
 essential part of the rite, but merely an aftergrowth in 
 the process of adapting an older custom to the changing 
 manners and religious ideas of a growing civilization.* 
 
 ' The service\of the Merai is discussed by Ramsay, op. cit, 135-7. 
 See also below, pi' 279. 
 
 ^ On the other hand, it must not be forgotten that at a marriage among 
 the Auziles and the Nasamonians the guests who enjoyed the bride's 
 favours were expected to reward her with a gift. Similarly, in modern 
 
RITE AT THE TEMPLE OF MYLITTA 275 
 
 Assuming, therefore, that the rite was a sacrifice of 
 virginity to which every woman was subjected, it would 
 probably be performed either on the attainment of 
 puberty or as a preliminary to the marriage ceremonies. 
 But we gather from the historian's account of the sale 
 of the village maidens around Babylon that the auction 
 followed almost immediately after the attainment of 
 puberty, or within (say) a year at the furthest. The 
 practice of most ancient nations, as of nearly all barbarous 
 and savage peoples, and indeed of many in a high stage 
 of civilization, would lead us to expect that marriage 
 would be entered into within a very short time of the 
 bride's puberty. Sometimes marriage even precedes 
 puberty. Where, as more usual, it follows that epoch of 
 life, the rites incident to puberty must first be completed. 
 Among such rites defloration is not infrequently found. 
 In this respect the Australian tribes are notorious. In 
 the Boulia district of Northern Queensland the girl 
 is compelled to intercourse with a number of men.^ 
 Among the Dieri of South Australia a ceremony called 
 Wilpadrina is performed on the young women when they 
 come to maturity, in which the elder men claim and 
 exercise a right to them, and that in the presence of the 
 other women.^ The Arunta and Ilpirra tribes in the 
 centre of the continent perform a ceremony on every 
 girl when she arrives at a marriageable age, but before 
 she has been taken over by the husband to whom she 
 has been allotted. As part of that ceremony a number 
 of men have access to her in ritual order ; and the inter- 
 Europe, a gift is also found as the return for a kiss or a dance with the 
 bride. I have collected several cases, Leg. Perseus, ii. 361, 355-8, and 
 many more might be added. Compare the Suahili custom mentioned 
 below, p. 277. 
 
 1 Roth, Ethnol. Studies, 174. 
 
 2 Howitt, 664 ; J. A. /., XX. 87. See also Ploss, i. 308. 
 
276 RITUAL AND BELIEF 
 
 course is often repeated the following day.-^ Analogous 
 proceedings are known in other parts of the world. 
 The central tribes of New Ireland have a women's house 
 in every village. When a girl attains puberty she with- 
 draws into a small house, called mbak, built inside it. 
 There it is said she has to remain for ten months, only 
 going outside at night. During this period she is 
 waited upon by the old women, and through their 
 intervention every man who chooses has access to her. 
 On leaving the mbak she belongs only to the husband to 
 whom she has probably been betrothed since infancy.^ 
 In the west of the island of Serang between Celebes 
 and New Guinea, a girl after ceremonial bathing goes 
 round clothed with a sarong woven of the fibre of the 
 Pandanus repens, at the service of every man until her 
 family have collected the necessary materials for a feast. 
 In certain districts, however, before actual puberty the 
 teeth are filed. When this operation is completed, a 
 feast is prepared of which the novice must taste every- 
 thing. Further, an earthen pot filled with spring-water 
 is covered with a fresh pisang-leaf. One of the old 
 women then taking the index-finger of the girl's right 
 hand thrusts it through the leaf as "a symbol of the 
 rupture of the hymen, or to show that the possession of 
 virginity means nothing for her." The leaf is then 
 displayed on the ridge of the roof. This done, the 
 women fall to eating and drinking. When they have 
 finished they begin singing to the accompaniment of 
 drums. The men are then admitted to the house. In 
 some villages the old men have free access that evening 
 to the room of the girl in whose honour the feast is 
 given, while the other guests amuse themselves with 
 
 ' Spencer and Gillen, C. T., 92. 
 ^ Globus, xci. 313. 
 
RITE AT THE TEMPLE OF MYLITTA 277 
 
 singing outside. After this celebration the girl is 
 entitled to free intercourse with men, even before 
 puberty.^ In East-Central Africa the Azimba maiden is 
 artificially deflowered during a period of retirement and 
 instruction in the forest. When the retirement is over 
 she celebrates her attainment of puberty by a dance in 
 which only women take part. That night a man, hired 
 by her father for the purpose, sleeps with her, and once 
 this is done she is supposed to have no further inter- 
 course with him. Often, however, she is already married 
 before puberty, and consequently no longer a maiden. 
 None the less is she taken from her husband that the 
 puberty customs may be performed. When she is 
 brought back he himself sleeps with her apparently as a 
 ritual act, without the necessity of hiring a man for the 
 purpose.^ Among the Wanyasa, or Mang'anja, at the 
 southern end of Lake Nyasa, ceremonies are performed 
 similar to those of the Intonjane (girls' puberty ceremonies) 
 of South Africa, and every girl on her return after the 
 initiation must find some man " to be with her," otherwise 
 she will die.^ The Intonjane among the Kaffirs is well 
 known to be an occasion of sexual indulgence. It may 
 be surmised that the ceremonies of the Suahili on the east 
 coast were originally similar to those just mentioned. 
 But the Suahili have become partially Arabized, though 
 their Mohammedanism is little more than a veneer over 
 their heathen customs and belief. Among them now a 
 girl returns from her seclusion in silence and gives her 
 hand to every man she meets, receiving from him in 
 return a few small coins.* It is said that the girls of 
 
 > Riedel, 138, 137. 
 
 * H. Crawford Angus in Zeits.f. EthnoL, xxx., Verhandl., 479. 
 3 DuffMacdonald, i. 126; Jas. Macdonald, in/. A. /., xxii. loi. 
 
 * H. Zache, in Zeits. f. Ethnol., xxxi. 76. More than thirty years ago 
 a French writer cited by Hertz {Giftmadchen, 41) reported that among 
 
278 RITUAL AND BELIEF 
 
 the Wamegi, also a tribe near the coast, are artificially 
 deflowered at puberty by certain old women.^ Artificial 
 defloration at puberty is also practised by the Sawu 
 Islanders. The Sakalava girls in Madagascar perform it 
 on themselves in case their parents have not previously 
 taken the trouble.* Other examples could be cited, but 
 the subject need not be pursued. 
 
 I would venture to suggest then that the Babylonian 
 rite was a puberty rite, and that a maiden was not 
 admitted to the status and privileges of adult life until 
 she had thus been ceremonially deflowered. Among 
 those privileges, and the chief of them, was the gratifica- 
 tion of the sexual instinct. It was, therefore, a pre- 
 requisite to marriage. Ceremonial defloration of the 
 bride by others than her husband has prevailed in many 
 places. When marriage follows closely after puberty 
 it is diflicult to determine whether the custom really 
 belongs to the puberty rites, or to those of marriage. 
 I am not concerned here to deny that among many 
 peoples who practise it as part of the marriage rites it 
 may have been such ah initio. The determination of 
 this question would involve an examination of marriage 
 customs extending far beyond the space at my disposal. 
 But it will be admitted that as puberty rites gradually 
 
 the Bafiote of the Loango Coast the girls were led round the village 
 and their virginity put up to auction. This looks like a puberty rite of a 
 similar character. I have not seen the book, however, and think it not 
 impossible that the writer may have misunderstood the ceremony usual 
 on emerging from the " paint-house." 
 
 'y. A. /., xxxi. 121. 
 
 ^ Ploss, i. 307, 308. Puberty ceremonies to which girls are subjected 
 are by no means confined to "initiation-mysteries" — that is to say, 
 collective rites performed on a number of candidates at the same time. 
 Several of the above-cited ceremonies are performed on individual girls 
 as they reach puberty ; and examples might very easily be multiplied. 
 In Cyprus, on the other hand, there seem to have been collective rites, 
 with the sacrifice of virginity. 
 
RITE AT THE TEMPLE OF MYLITTA 279 
 
 became simplified or altogether obsolete such a custom 
 could only maintain existence as part of the marriage 
 rites. It is then usually (but, as we shall see, not 
 always) performed by one or more of the bridegroom's 
 friends or by an appointed official, and ultimately 
 degenerates into the jus primte metis vested in some 
 powerful personage, as a lord or priest. Nothing of 
 the sort appears in the accounts which have come 
 down to us of the ancient rite in Western Asia. In 
 all of them (save among the Lydians) emphasis is laid 
 on the performance by a stranger. At Babylon our 
 information does not connect the rite with marriage at 
 all. Elsewhere it is referred to not as part of the 
 marriage rites, but as a preliminary to marriage. 
 
 That such a rite should be found annexed to the 
 temple and worship of a luxurious goddess causes no 
 surprise ; on the contrary, it is what might have been 
 anticipated. Every reader will call to mind numerous 
 examples of archaic rites which have become attached 
 to Christian festivals, and of Christian shrines which are 
 simply shrines of an earlier religion adapted and con- 
 secrated afresh under Christian names. The difficulty of 
 uprooting old customs, and their consequent incorpora- 
 tion and adaptation by advancing culture or a new religion, 
 are phenomena too well known to be insisted on here. 
 Probably the Cypriote mysteries were adapted to the 
 worship of Aphrodite from a ruder stage in which no 
 divinity was invoked. And if this could happen once in 
 Western Asia, it might have happened also at Babylon, 
 at Heliopolis and elsewhere. It is possible that other 
 practices, such as the prostitution of the Armenian girls 
 at the temple of Anaitis, or that of the Lydian and 
 Paphian girls to earn their dowries, are no more than the 
 adaptation of a custom common enough in the lower 
 
28o RITUAL AND BELIEF 
 
 barbarism, by which unmarried girls have unfettered 
 liberty in their sexual relations. The Armenian maidens, 
 at all events, though spoken of as harlots by Strabo, 
 do not seem to have exercised their calling for money, 
 nor to have admitted indiscriminately to their favours 
 all who offered. They reserved themselves for their 
 equals in rank, and entertained them in their dwellings 
 with more hospitality than in a spinsters' house in the 
 Pacific Islands. The surmise may be indulged that it 
 was in fact originally, if not in later times, their way 
 of choosing husbands. The Lydian girls are expressly 
 said to have bestowed themselves in marriage. 
 
 Mannhardt contended (and his opinion is so far 
 endorsed by Dr Frazer) that the maidens who 
 surrendered their virginity in connection with the cult 
 of a goddess like Aphrodite did so in imitation of 
 their divinity, as her representatives, the human players 
 of her part.^ This may have been the mode by which 
 the ancient custom was adapted to the newer order of 
 things. But it is submitted that it is a very insufficient 
 account of it. The custom must have been older than 
 any definite belief in the goddess's habits or any story 
 of her various intrigues. Are we then to suppose that 
 it was a magical rite designed to promote the fertility 
 of animal and vegetable life ? Such rites are known 
 in both hemispheres. The great goddess worshipped 
 under different names throughout Western Asia personi- 
 fied, we may concede, the reproductive energies of 
 Nature. Many of the rites employed in her cult are 
 in the last analysis magical, and had for their purpose 
 to assist those energies. By a well-known mental 
 process magical efficacy is often ascribed to acts and 
 usages not essentially of a magical, nor indeed of a 
 
 ' Mannhardt, Wald- und Feldkulte, ii. 284 ; Frazer, Adonis, 32 note. 
 
RITE AT THE TEMPLE OF MYLITTA 281 
 
 ritual, character. Thus the general prostitution of 
 young girls to earn their dowries, and that of widows 
 — customs which are probably of quite a different 
 origin — are among certain tribes of Morocco held to 
 be not without their effect on the abundance of the 
 crops.^ Such a belief may have consecrated lives of 
 habitual harlotry in Armenia, in Lydia, and in Cyprus. 
 It by no means follows that every rite performed in 
 the name of the goddess acquired that meaning, still 
 less that that was its primitive meaning. Many such 
 rites would be wholly personal. They would be in- 
 tended to secure personal blessings to the worshipper, 
 and nothing more, though everyone might have been 
 required to perform them. It is needless to suppose 
 without express evidence that the rite described by 
 Herodotus as taking place at the temple of Mylitta 
 had more than a personal reference. The most obvious 
 personal blessing to be secured from such a goddess 
 would be fertility. It is possible that this was the 
 intention here. Puberty customs are doubtless per- 
 formed for the good of the individual, and of the 
 tribe or nationality through the individual. We must 
 not infer, however, that the personal blessing of fertility 
 was held to be the natural and direct outcome of the 
 sacrifice of virginity. That was not the way in which 
 it would be envisaged, however logical such an out- 
 come may seem to us. The savage would not expect 
 the natural result, but one that we caU magical. At 
 the stage represented by the Babylonian custom the 
 blessing was invoked from the goddess, and was her 
 gift. In other words, it was not that specific ritual 
 act of coition, but future acts rendered licit and 
 consecrated by it which were expected to bear fruit. 
 
 ' Rev. Hist. Rel., xli. 315. 
 
282 RITUAL AND BELIEF 
 
 This interpretation is perhaps strengthened by a rite 
 said to have been regularly performed in the Troad. 
 "Every maiden on the approach of her marriage was 
 required to go and bathe in the Skamandros, and 
 standing in the water to pronounce the sacred formula : 
 ' Skamandros, take my maidenhood as a gift.' " Dr 
 Farnell, citing the fictitious letter of Aischines on 
 which the evidence for the custom rests, observes : 
 " The letter narrates how a mortal assumed the human 
 form of the god and took a treacherous advantage ; 
 but originally, we may suppose, the rite of consecra- 
 tion was not associated with any anthropomorphic 
 divinity, but was performed in the hope that the 
 spirit of the river might enter into the maiden, and 
 that the child she might afterwards bear to her wedded 
 husband might thus be mystically akin to the guardian 
 of the land. The many early myths concerning 
 heroines and princesses being made pregnant by river- 
 gods suggest that the ritual just described was once 
 prevalent in primitive Greece ; for such myths could 
 arise naturally from such a custom." ^ But the ritual 
 itself suggests that it is a relic of a still older rite 
 parallel with the rite at the temple of Mylitta. 
 
 The last of the problems connected with the rite 
 is to explain why it must be accomplished with a 
 stranger. If, as has been alleged, the act of deflora- 
 tion of a maiden were held to be in itself dangerous, it 
 is not easy to say why anyone, even a stranger, should 
 undertake it, unless he were strangely ignorant of 
 the risk or strangely careless. In some places, indeed, 
 a maiden who had come to submit to the rite may 
 have been outwardly indistinguishable from one of the 
 hierai ; and hence the man may have been unconscious 
 * Farnell, Cults, v. 423. 
 
RITE AT THE TEMPLE OF MYLITTA 283 
 
 of his risk, or may have been willing to undertake a 
 risk thus diminished. But at Babylon the women who 
 came thus to offer themselves wore a distinctive head- 
 dress of cords, the emblem, perhaps, of their condition 
 of virginity. Moreover, they seem to have been 
 penned in enclosures divided from each other by 
 ropes, which were broken to let them out for the 
 accomplishment of the rite. There was therefore no 
 mistake as to their status or object.-' On the other 
 hand, if the defloration simply involved ritual impurity 
 such as could be removed by the proper ceremonies, 
 it must be asked why the task was left to a stranger. 
 None of our ancient authorities have condescended to 
 define a stranger. We are probably to understand by 
 that term one who was not an inhabitant of the town 
 or who was not a member of the community. The 
 analogy of certain Australian rites already referred to, 
 and of rites of marriage in some other parts of the 
 world, would lead us to suppose that what was really 
 intended in the first instance was one who was not 
 eligible for sexual relations with the woman in the 
 ordinary course. Thus in Peru and New Granada 
 " the nearest relations of the bride and her most 
 intimate friends " are said to have performed the 
 corresponding rite ^ ; and even her father is credited 
 
 ' We are reminded of the risk incurred in relieving Kamtchadal widows 
 of their " sins " {supra, p. 223). There, however, the Russian soldiers who 
 assisted them belonged to a totally different mental and social environ- 
 ment. They contemned the native superstition. It is improbable that 
 any strangers at Babylon or Heliopolis could have been on a plane of 
 civilization so far removed from that of the natives that they were either 
 ignorant of, or indifferent to, the native ideas. Rather, they are likely to 
 have shared them. Among the Baronga, when a similar service is 
 required to be rendered, the man must be inveigled by a trick : he would 
 not knowingly incur the risk (Junod, R. E. S., i. 163). 
 
 2 Garcilasso, i. 59- 
 
284 RITUAL AND BELIEF 
 
 with the labour among the Orang-Sakai of the Malay 
 Peninsula, the Battas of Sumatra, the Alfoers of Celebes, 
 and on the Island of Ceylon and the eastern Moluccas.^ 
 From this the more developed morality of the Baby- 
 lonians would recoil. Mr Crawley, commenting on 
 the Australian rite, surmises that in it " initiation " and 
 marriage are one, and that " initiation " ceremonies (that 
 is to say, puberty ceremonies) " of this kind are 
 marriages to the other sex in abstract." ^ The surmise 
 follows from his theory of the danger of human con- 
 tact, and especially of marriage, and the importance of 
 ceremonies to avert the peril. The theory itself — at 
 all events pushed to the length to which Mr Crawley 
 pushes it — is very questionable. But defloration at 
 puberty, whether natural or artificial, is undoubtedly 
 (whatever else it may be) a formal introduction to 
 sexual life. Such introduction might be the more 
 authoritative and emphatic if given by one (or more) 
 with whom sexual relations would not in future be 
 sustained. It is a ritual act. Ritual acts are acts out 
 of the ordinary course — often clean contrary to the 
 ordinary course. Therein consists their essence, their 
 virtue. But in the growth of civilization, with the 
 emergence of a new religion or different customs, the 
 real meaning of a traditional rite is obscured, the 
 rite itself becomes decadent, and a new meaning is 
 assigned to it. Hence a puberty rite might easily 
 become part of the cult of a goddess like Mylitta. 
 
 Moreover, at the stage of decay which the rite had 
 reached at Babylon and elsewhere in "Western Asia, the 
 proviso that the person with whom the act was performed 
 must be a stranger might be intended to prevent an 
 
 1 Ploss, i. 406 ; Hertz, loc. cit., citing authorities. 
 
 2 Crawley, Mystic Rose (1902), 348. 
 
RITE AT THE TEMPLE OF MYLITTA 285 
 
 assignation. When the act had to be performed as a 
 sacrifice in honour of the goddess it might be regarded 
 as a profanation to perform it as an act of inclination 
 with a favoured lover. The best way to prevent this 
 would be to require that it should be performed with 
 a chance stranger, who might further be looked upon, if 
 Mannhardt's interpretation be correct, as a representa- 
 tive sent by the goddess to play Adonis to the maiden's 
 Aphrodite. The rite at Byblus lends countenance to 
 this conjecture. It is supported also by the artificial 
 defloration enacted only in symbol by Roman brides, 
 but in grim earnest at the temples of Siva by brides in 
 Southern India. 
 
 But we are able to carry the conjecture a step beyond 
 this. Here I am glad to avail myself of the criticism 
 of Professor Westermarck, who has pointed out that a 
 semi-supernatural character is very generally ascribed to 
 strangers, and that intercourse with a stranger would thus 
 be productive of blessings — especially the blessing of 
 fertility — to the woman. ^ From the large collections on 
 the subject of relations with strangers brought together 
 by Professor Frazer and Professor Westermarck himself 
 it results that a stranger is regarded as uncanny. He 
 is a being possessed of unknown powers for good or ill. 
 His orenda, as we have seen, is incalculable.* He must 
 therefore be either repulsed at once as a foe or received 
 and treated with extraordinary respect. The former 
 course is not usually adopted unless the strangers come 
 in force or there are other circumstances that suggest 
 hostile intent. The latter course has given birth to laws 
 of hospitality recognized all over the world, however the 
 exact procedure may differ among different peoples. 
 
 1 Westermarck, Moral Ideas, ii. 445. 
 ^ Above, p. 63. 
 
286 RITUAL AND BELIEF 
 
 But even in this case the stranger is looked upon with 
 suspicion until he has undergone what M. van Gennep 
 calls rites of aggregation to the group or society to which 
 he has come. These rites may be of the most simple 
 character, such as spitting upon his host or drinking a 
 cup of water or coiFee from his host's hand ; or they may 
 involve a trial of strength, an exchange of gifts, the 
 offering of sacrifices or entry into a blood-covenant.^ 
 
 The uncanny character thus attributed to a stranger 
 includes not merely the possession of magical powers. 
 In a society where everyone, or at least a large and un- 
 known number of persons, is believed to be endowed 
 more or less with magical powers, this is a matter of 
 course. But a halo of still more mysterious possibility 
 encircles a stranger : he may be a superhuman Power, a 
 dead man, or even a god. Hence arise the numerous 
 stories, many of which have been collected by Mr Gerould 
 in his monograph on The Grateful Dead, published by 
 theFolk-Lore Society in 1908. These stories usually re- 
 present the stranger as a dead man to whom the hero has 
 rendered some service, such as that of burying his corpse. 
 But perhaps the best known, and among the most ancient 
 is that found in the book of Tobit, where the stranger is 
 the angel Raphael. A tale even older and more wide- 
 spread is preserved among the Hebrew traditions as that 
 of Lot and the two angels who visited him in Sodom. 
 Probably it was part of the common Semitic stock, and as 
 such would have been known at Babylon. Substantially 
 the same story is that of Baucis and Philemon reported 
 by Ovid ; and the tale of Demeter's wanderings and 
 many another in Greek legend rest on a common basis 
 of belief. Continental folklore down to modern days 
 
 1 Van Gennep, Rites, 39 sqq. As to trials of strength, see Jesup 
 Exped., viL 582. 
 
RITE AT THE TEMPLE OF MYLITTA 287 
 
 identifies the unknown beggar as Jesus Christ Himself 
 or, if a woman, his Mother. The Bantu of South- West 
 Africa tell of the great goddess Nzambi who begs in 
 disguise for a little palm-wine to slake the thirst of her 
 child. Refusal is followed in the night by punishment ; 
 the smiling vaUey, like that of Sodom, is covered by the 
 waters of a lake ; and the only person saved is he who 
 had taken compassion and granted the poor old mendi- 
 cant's request,^ Lest this be thought a tale imported 
 from Europe, let me add that in Annam a similar tale is 
 told to account for three lakes in the province of Thay 
 Nguyen. There a beggar-woman is repulsed by all save 
 an old widow and her son, who give of their poverty food 
 and a night's lodging to the miserable and unattractive 
 creature. She turns out to be a supernatural personage. 
 She has come down to test the hearts of the devotees 
 who have flocked to a great religious festival periodically 
 held in the place. The hypocrites who repulsed her are 
 all overwhelmed in a deluge of waters ; only the widow 
 and her son are saved.* 
 
 To labour the proof is unnecessary. It is abundantly 
 clear that a stranger may be far more than mortal, and 
 that this possibility has deeply afFected the evolution of 
 hospitality. The stranger must be conciliated. He must 
 be bound by sacred ties to the host — ties which he cannot 
 break so long as he remains under the host's protection. 
 Among the rites of aggregation — the rites effecting this 
 union — M. van Gennep reckons the use of the women 
 frequently accorded to visitors in the lower culture ; and 
 he suggests that the rite at the temple of Mylitta was 
 such a rite of aggregation. It may have been so. It 
 may have been expected of all masculine strangers at 
 Babylon to unite themselves with the natives by means 
 
 * Dennett, 121. " Dumoutier, 182. 
 
288 RITUAL AND BELIEF 
 
 of this homage to the goddess. All that can be said is 
 that Herodotus gives no hint of it. According to him it 
 was only on the women that the duty lay — and that no 
 more than once in their lives — of submitting to the rite. 
 The mystery attaching to a stranger and involving the 
 expectation of divine blessing is a sufficient reason for the 
 performance of the rite with one who might be a god 
 in person, and in any event must have been held to be 
 divinely sent ; for chance is the servant of the gods. 
 Thence it is but a step (and the step was taken elsewhere, 
 if not at Babylon) to the substitution of the priest for the 
 stranger or the god ; and the way is opened to the abuses 
 of the Jus printie metis} 
 
 Before dismissing the subject reference may be made 
 to Professor Cumont's note on the subject of religious 
 prostitution in Les Religions Orientales dans le Paganisme 
 Remain (Paris, 1907)^ pp. 143, 286, as showing the 
 facility with which a learned and highly distinguished 
 scholar may fail to appreciate the complexity of the 
 problem. He makes no distinction between the three 
 customs of sacrifice of virginity, prostitution to earn a 
 dowry, and a life of religious prostitution in the service 
 of the goddess. He refers them all to the primitive 
 constitution of the Semitic tribe, and explains them as a 
 modified form, become utilitarian, of an ancient exogamy. 
 Mating with a virgin, he holds, resulted in defilement ; 
 therefore she was given first to a stranger ; only after 
 that could she be married to a man of her own race. I 
 pass by the confusion between the three customs in 
 question, to all of which his explanation will not equally 
 
 ' Since this essay was published in its original form the whole position 
 of women in the temple-ritual of Western Asia has been carefully dis- 
 cussed by Dr Famell {Greece and Bab., 268 sqq^, to whose criticisms I 
 have been greatly indebted during the process of revision. 
 
RITE AT THE TEMPLE OF MYLITTA 289 
 
 apply. But if the explanation be correct for any of them, 
 either the ancient exogamy of the Semites must have 
 been quite different from exogamy as generally under- 
 stood, or it must have been not merely modified but 
 transformed. Exogamy, as generally understood, has 
 nothing to do with race or nationality. It is simply the 
 savage rule corresponding to our table of prohibited 
 degrees.^ A man may not marry or have sexual relations 
 with one who is akin to him ; every member of his clan 
 (not of his tribe or his race) is akin to him ; therefore, he 
 cannot marry or have sexual relations with any member 
 of his clan. The origin of this rule is still disputed by 
 anthropologists, and we need not here discuss it. But 
 since exogamy bars a man from sexual relations with 
 every member of his kin, it is obvious that it cannot be 
 merely a preliminary to marriage within the kin. Where 
 exogamy is the law, the bar is absolute ; it Is the law for 
 the whole of life ; it is not intended to provide for a 
 temporary union outside the kin in order to prepare the 
 way for a permanent union within the kin. Exogamy, 
 therefore, I submit, cannot explain these customs. 
 
 1 Among many savages additional prohibited degrees exist side by side 
 with exogamy strictly so called. In my view these, where they exist, are 
 supplementary rules of subsequent growth. In any case exogamy operates 
 in the same way as our prohibited degrees. 
 
 19 
 
THE VOICE OF THE STONE OF 
 DESTINY 
 
 In the following pages I propose to consider some of 
 the auguries which have been deemed necessary to the 
 choice of a king. Kingship is not found in the most 
 archaic forms of society known to us. But where the 
 community is organized on the basis of monarchy the 
 king tends to be regarded as something more than 
 ordinary humanity. He has powers and privileges 
 denied to other mortals. These very powers and 
 privileges and the sanctity of which they are the 
 appanage entail, however, taboos and penalties of the 
 most burdensome description. Professor Frazer has 
 abundantly Illustrated this side of royalty, and has also 
 fully discussed some of the means whereby pretensions 
 to the throne are enforced. But there remain others 
 witnessing not less than those he has described to the 
 extraordinary position of a king. Some of these and 
 their echoes in folk-tale and romance will repay a little 
 attention. 
 
 The famous Coronation Stone has an authentic history 
 of six hundred years. At the time of the conquest of 
 Scotland by Edward I., it was the stone on which the 
 kings of the Scots were, according to immemorial custom, 
 installed. Regarded by the Scots as sacred, it was there- 
 fore removed by Edward's order from Scone, where it 
 stood, to Westminster, and was enclosed in what Is now, 
 
 290 
 
VOICE OF THE STONE OF DESTINY 291 
 
 and has been ever since, the Coronation Chair. Its 
 earlier history, as distinguished from conjecture and 
 legend, goes no further back than the middle of the 
 thirteenth century, or something less than half a century 
 before its removal to Westminster, when it is recorded 
 by Fordun that Alexander III. was solemnly placed upon 
 it and hallowed to king by the Bishop of St. Andrews 
 (1249). ^^^ what is wanting in authentic history has 
 been abundantly made up in legend. The tale, of which 
 there are two versions, is the creation of a literary age. 
 The Irish version brings it, with the Tuatha D6 Danann, 
 from Lochlann, or Scandinavia, to Ireland. The Scottish 
 version traces it on the other hand from Egypt, whence 
 it was carried by the Milesians. This was improved 
 upon, to the extent of identifying the stone with that 
 used by Jacob as a pillow on his journey from Beer- 
 sheba to Haran. The attempt was thus made, by con- 
 necting the ruling race in Scotland with the legends 
 of the Hebrew patriarchs, to confer upon the stone 
 the united sanctity of religion, of antiquity, and of 
 patriotism. 
 
 In the course of its wanderings the stone is said to 
 have reached Tara ; and it is declared to be the famous 
 Lia Fail, or Stone of Destiny, one of the two wonders of 
 Tara celebrated in Irish sagas. "We are indebted to the 
 Book of Lismore, a fifteenth-century manuscript, for an 
 enumeration of the wonderful properties of the Lia Fail. 
 The Colloquy with the Ancients, which is comprised in 
 this precious manuscript, records a number of Irish 
 traditions, some of which would else in all probability 
 have perished beyond recovery. There we learn — the 
 account is put into the mouth of no less a personage than 
 Ossian himself — that "Anyone of all Ireland on whom 
 an ex parte imputation rested was set upon that stone : 
 
292 RITUAL AND BELIEF 
 
 then if the truth were in him he would turn pink and 
 white ; but if otherwise, it was a black spot that in some 
 conspicuous place would appear on him. Further, when 
 Ireland's monarch stepped on to it the stone would cry- 
 out under him, and her three arch-waves would boom in 
 answer : as the wave of Cleena, the wave of Ballintoy, 
 and the wave of Loch Rury ; when a provincial king 
 went on it the flag would rumble under him ; when a 
 barren woman trod it^ it was a dew of dusky blood 
 that broke out on it ; when one that would bear children 
 tried it, it was a ' nursing drop ' " — that is, says Mr 
 Standish O'Grady, from whose translation I quote, 
 semblance of milk — " that it sweated." ^ The Colloquy 
 is imperfect, the legible portion of the manuscript ceasing 
 a line or two further on, just as we are about to be told 
 how it was that the stone left Ireland.^ Its subsequent 
 adventures are related by Keating, who says that it was 
 sent to Feargus the Great, " to sit upon, for the purpose 
 of being proclaimed king of Scotland." However, it is 
 not to the adventures of the stone, but to its properties 
 that I wish now to direct attention. With regard to the 
 former, all that I need add is that the legend has been 
 subjected by Skene, and more recently by Mr P. J. 
 O'Reilly, to an exhaustive analysis, which renders it 
 clear that there is no trustworthy evidence that the stone 
 of Tara is the Coronation Stone. The antecedent 
 improbability is great ; and even if it were indisputable 
 that the stone in question was no longer at Tara in the 
 eleventh century, the chasm between that period and 
 Fergus, whose very existence only rested on legend, 
 
 1 O'Grady, ii. 264. 
 
 2 There are other manuscripts of the Colloquy, but none of them 
 contain the sequel of the adventures of the Lia Fdil. See the preface to 
 Stokes' edition, Irische Texte, 4th ser. (Leipzig, 1900). 
 
VOICE OF THE STONE OF DESTINY 293 
 
 would still have to be bridged, and the variants of the 
 story would need to be reconciled.^ 
 
 The properties of the stone of Tara were oracular ; 
 and the stone itself was one of a large class of stones 
 endowed in popular opinion with divining powers, and 
 actually resorted to for the purpose of enquiry. When 
 the reputation of an oracle is once established, it is 
 consulted for many purposes. Not only political, but 
 juridical and domestic purposes are enumerated by the 
 author of the Colloquy in regard to the Lia Fdil. Among 
 these functions is the recognition of the monarch. The 
 phrase used in the Colloquy is ambiguous. It is not 
 stated why, or on what occasion, the stone was expected 
 to make its voice heard. In practice the only object of 
 obtaining such a recognition would be that of determin- 
 ing the succession to the throne. Keating supplies the 
 missing explanation. " It was a stone," he says, " on 
 which were enchantments, for it used to roar under the 
 person who had the best right to obtain the sovereignty 
 of Ireland at the time of the men of Ireland being in 
 assembly at Tara to choose a king over them." ^ 
 Whether as a matter of fact the stone ever was consulted 
 with this object is another question. It is enough at 
 
 ' Skene's paper is in Proceedings of the Society of Antiquaries of Scot- 
 land, viii. 68 ; Mr O'Reilly's '\n Journal of the Royal Society of Antiquaries 
 of Ireland, xxxii. 77. The stone now called the Lia Fdil at Tara is 
 clearly not the stone of tradition. 
 
 2 Keating, i. loi. See also 207, 209. On the latter page "a poem from 
 a certain book of invasion " is quoted at length. It contains an enumera- 
 tion of the four jewels of the Tuatha D^ Danann, among them the Lia 
 Fiil, " which used to roar under the king of Ireland." In the Baile an 
 Scail (The Champion's Ecstasy) Conna of the Hundred Fights steps on 
 the stone accidentally, and is told by the Druid who accompanies him, 
 " Fdl has screamed under thy feet. The number of its screams is the 
 number of kings that shall come of thy seed for ever ; but I may not 
 name them." In this passage the stone is said to have come from the 
 Island of Foal to abide for ever in the land of Tailtin (Nutt, i. 187, 
 summarising O'Curry's translation). 
 
294 RITUAL AND BELIEF 
 
 present to know that Irish tradition asserted this use of 
 the oracle. In a semi-civilized community a disputed 
 succession is of frequent occurrence. To prevent a 
 dispute, and to settle it when it arises, various means are 
 adopted. The usual Irish plan seems to have been the 
 custom of Tanistry. '"During the lifetime of a chief," 
 Sullivan tells us, "his successor was elected under the 
 name of Tanaiste ; and on the death of the former the 
 latter succeeded him. The Tanaiste was not necessarily 
 the son of the chief : he might be his brother or nephew ; 
 but he should belong to his Fine" or family.^ 
 
 That this mode of election was not always successful 
 we may easily believe. That it was the gradual outcome 
 of the experience of a long series of generations is 
 probable. Where for one cause or another it failed, 
 how would the succession be determined ^ The most 
 obvious means would be either conflict or divination. 
 According to the legends, divination was sometimes 
 actually used to determine the appointment of king. On 
 one occasion in the days of Conchobar, the famous King 
 of Ulster, the monarchy of Ireland had been vacant for 
 seven years. This state of things being found intolerable, 
 a general assembly was held at Tara to choose a king. 
 The royal houses of Connaught, South Munster, North 
 Munster, and Leinster were there, but the Ulstermen 
 were absent ; for there was bitter feud between Ulster 
 and the rest of Ireland, and they would not hold kingly 
 counsel together. The mode of election adopted was 
 divination by means of a dream induced by certain 
 ceremonies. The ceremonies began with a bull-feast. A 
 bull was killed, and a man was gorged with its flesh and 
 
 ' O'Curry, On the Manners and Customs of the Ancient Irish (three 
 vols., London, 1873), vol. i. (Sullivan's Introduction), p. clxxxiii. Spencer, 
 View of the State of Ireland, says that the Tanist is "the eldest of the 
 kinne." Ancient Irish Histories (Dublin, Hibemia Press, 1809), i. 12. 
 
VOICE OF THE STONE OF DESTINY 295 
 
 broth. We are told " he slept under that meal." It is 
 not incredible. Then " a true oration," which I under- 
 stand to mean an incantation, was pronounced over him 
 b^ four Druids. He dreamed, and screamed out of his 
 sleep, and related to the assembled kings that he had seen 
 in his dream " a soft youth, noble, and powerfully made, 
 with two red stripes on his skin around his body, and 
 he standing at the pillow of a man who was lying in a 
 decline at Emain Macha," the royal palace of Ulster. 
 Messengers were accordingly sent thither, and the 
 description was found to correspond with that of Lugaidh 
 Reo-derg, the pupil of Cuchulainn, who was then lying 
 ill. Lugaidh was brought to Tara, recognized as the 
 subject of the vision, and proclaimed as monarch of 
 Ireland.^ 
 
 This is not the only instance in Irish legend of election 
 to the throne by incubatio, or divination by means of a 
 dream. Conaire, whose tale is filled with incidents ex- 
 plicable only by the comparative studies of ethnologists, 
 was thus elected. Though really begotten by a super- 
 natural bird-man, he was regarded as the son of his 
 predecessor, Etersc^le. But this does not seem to have 
 given him any title to succeed. A bull-feast was accord- 
 ingly given ; and the buU-feaster in his sleep at the end 
 of the night beheld a man stark-naked, passing along the 
 road of Tara with a stone in his sling. Warned and 
 counselled by his bird-relatives, Conaire fulfilled these 
 requirements. He found three kings (doubtless of the 
 under-kings of Ireland) awaiting him, with royal raiment 
 to clothe his nakedness, and a chariot to convey him to 
 Tara. It was a disappointment to the folk of Tara to 
 
 ' O'Curry, ii. 199. From a reference in an Irish text translated by 
 Professor Windisch from the Lebor na h Uidre, it seems that the bull was 
 required to be white. Irische Texte, ser. i. 200, 
 
296 RITUAL AND BELIEF 
 
 find that their bull-feast and their spell of truth chanted 
 over the feaster had resulted in the selection of a beard- 
 less lad. But he convinced them that he was the true 
 successor, and was admitted to the kingship.-^ 
 
 A traditional story is not a record of fact. It is a 
 record only of what is believed. Probably both Lugaidh 
 Reo-derg and Conaire are mythical personages, but their 
 stories certainly embody what was thought to be possible. 
 The description of the election by divination is sub- 
 stantially the same in both. It may therefore be taken, 
 if not as approximately correct, at least as showing that 
 election by divination was regarded among the ancient 
 Irish as in the last resort a reasonable and proper manner 
 of ascertaining and appointing a king. In this the Irish 
 were by no means singular. The traditions of other 
 nations point to the same result, and the customs in 
 various parts of the world confirm it. The incident of 
 election by divination is so picturesque and so suitable 
 for the purposes of a story-teller that it is to be expected 
 far more often in a tale than in real life. But that the 
 story-incident is based on actual practice, I think there is 
 sufficient ground for believing. 
 
 We will first shortly review a few stories of election by 
 divination. The Saxons of Transylvania tell of a peasant 
 who had three sons, of whom the youngest was despised 
 by the others because he was weak and small while they 
 were tall and strong. In that kingdom God Himself 
 chose the king from time to time. The mode of 
 ascertaining the divine will was to call a general assembly 
 of the people on the king's meadow in the largest com- 
 mune of the country, and there to lay the crown at a 
 certain hour on a hillock or mound. All the bells in the 
 
 1 Revue Celtique, xxii. 22, in the story of the Sack of Dd Derga's Hostel 
 translated by Whitley Stokes. 
 
VOICE OF THE STONE OF DESTINY 297 
 
 town pealed forth together ; and the crown slowly raised 
 itself in the air, floated round over the heads of the 
 assembly, and finally alighted on that of the destined 
 sovereign. The two elder brothers made ready to attend 
 the ceremony, but bade the youngest remain at home in 
 the ashes, where his place was. However, he slipped out 
 after them, and, for fear they would see him, crept into a 
 pigsty that stood at the end of the town abutting on the 
 meadow. The crown, passing over all the people present, 
 sank down upon the pigsty. Surprised and curious to 
 know what this strange proceeding meant, the people ran 
 to the pigsty, there found the trembling boy, and drawing 
 him forth bowed the knee and saluted him as the new 
 king, called by God to occupy the throne.^ 
 
 In this Transylvanian mUrchen the crown is the instru- 
 ment of divination. Going next to the dim and distant 
 East we find other emblems of royalty thus represented. 
 In the Jataka, the great book of Buddhist Birth-stories, 
 the supposititious child of a merchant's wife of Maghada 
 is the hero of a similar adventure. He is, however, no 
 ordinary child but the Bodhisatta, the future Buddha in 
 an earlier birth. He was called Banyan, from having 
 been found under a banyan tree, where his own mother 
 had forsaken him at his birth. Travelling with two 
 faithful companions who had been born on the same 
 day as himself, he came to Benares, and entering the 
 royal park lay down upon a slab of stone with his two 
 companions beside it. The previous night they had slept 
 in the city under a tree at a temple. One of the youths 
 had awakened at dawn and heard some cocks quarrelling 
 in the branches. He listened, and learnt that whoever 
 killed a certain one of these birds and ate of his fat would 
 become king that very day, he who ate the middle flesh 
 
 ' Haltrich, 195. 
 
298 RITUAL AND BELIEF 
 
 would become commander-in-chief, and he who ate the 
 flesh about the bones would become treasurer. He killed 
 the bird, gave the fat to Banyan, the middle flesh to his 
 other friend, and gnawed the bones himself. Now the 
 king of Benares was dead, and that day the festal car was 
 going forth with the five symbols of royalty, the sword, 
 the parasol, the diadem, the slippers, and the fan, within 
 it, to choose the king's successor. As the three youths 
 lay in the royal park, the ceremonial chariot rolled up 
 and stopped before them. The chaplain (presumably a 
 Brahman) followed. Removing the cloth from Banyan's 
 feet he examined the marks upon them. " Why ! " he 
 exclaimed, " he is destined to be king of all India, let 
 alone Benares ! " and he ordered the gongs and the 
 cymbals to strike up. This awoke Banyan, who sat up. 
 The chaplain fell down before him, saying : " Divine 
 being, the kingdom is thine." " So be it," quietly 
 answered the youth ; the chaplain placed him upon the 
 heap of precious jewels and sprinkled him to be king.^ 
 
 In a Calmuck tale the instrument of divination is not 
 one of the royal insignia, but a sacrificial cake. An 
 assembly of the people is held to choose a new khan ; 
 and it is decided to appeal to the judgement of heaven 
 by throwing a sacrificial cake, called Baling, apparently a 
 figure of dough, into the air, at the time of the sacrifice 
 {Streuopfer). On whosesoever head the cake fell, he 
 should be khan.^ 
 
 A tale of the Teleut Tartars tells of a father who was 
 enraged with his son because he interpreted the cry of 
 some birds, declaring that they foretold that he himself 
 would become emperor, and his father would drink his 
 urine. The father, in his anger, struck off his son's head. 
 
 1 Jataka, iv. 23, Story No. 445. ■ 
 ^ Jiilg, 60, Story No. 2. 
 
VOICE OF THE STONE OF DESTINY 299 
 
 He then killed his horse, skinned it, rolled his son's body 
 in the hide and flung it into the sea. The waves carried 
 the package to a village, where an old woman found it. 
 She opened the leather, and the youth came out alive. 
 The prince of that land had died, leaving no son. His 
 subjects took two golden posts, and fastened on their 
 tops two tapers. They then set up the posts in the 
 middle of the village. Everyone was required to jump 
 through them, and the tapers would fall on him who was 
 to be the prince. But they obstinately remained standing 
 until the destined youth came, when they both fell on his 
 neck and burst into flame. If he had not become an 
 emperor, at least he was now a prince : and with that 
 variation, the whole of the bird's prophecy was in due 
 course fulfilled.-^ But we need not follow it further. 
 The hero of a Balochi tale likewise falls under his father's 
 displeasure. His father was a king, and the son took 
 advantage of his royalty to break the crockery of his 
 father's subjects. When the people complained, his 
 father drove him away. In the course of his wander- 
 ings, he came to a town where the king had just died. 
 The palace door was shut, and upon it was written : 
 " He whose hand shall open this door, shall be king 
 of this city." The wandering prince, reading this, said : 
 " Bismillah." He pushed the door : it opened. He 
 entered, seated himself on the throne, and became king.^ 
 The Kah-gyur, a sacred work of Tibetan Buddhism 
 dating back to the eleventh century or thereabouts, 
 contains a story of king Ananda. The name Ananda 
 is famous in the literature of Buddhism as that of a 
 favourite disciple of the master ; but it is here used in 
 the indiscriminate way in which the mediaeval friars used 
 
 1 Radloff, i. 208. 
 ^ Folk-Lore, iv. 202. 
 
300 RITUAL AND BELIEF 
 
 the names of Pompey, Titus, Pliny, and other famous 
 Romans, in the Gesta Romanorum. This king had five 
 sons, of whom the youngest was endowed with qualities 
 better suited to a ruler than the others, and to whom 
 accordingly he desired to leave the kingdom. But he 
 feared that If he invested his youngest son with sovereign 
 power, his kinsmen would reproach him for having 
 passed over his elder sons. As a way of escape from the 
 difficulty he decreed that after his death his sons should 
 be tested, and that he should be made king whom the 
 jewel-shoes should fit, under whom the throne should 
 remain steadfast, and on whose head the diadem should 
 rest unshaken, whom the women should recognize, and 
 who should guess six objects to be divined by insight.-' 
 There is a triple test here — divination by the royal 
 insignia, the choice of the harem, and the solution of a 
 riddle. 1 shall return to the two former tests. But 
 before passing to another type of story I may note that 
 in the Bakhtydr-Ndma, a Persian romance translated by 
 Sir William Ouseley, who brought it from the East in 
 the early part of the last century, there is a story in which 
 the succession to the throne is made to depend upon the 
 solution of three riddles. The king having died without 
 issue, it was resolved to go to the prison and propound 
 three questions to the criminals confined there. He who 
 answered best was recognized as king.^ Riddles are re- 
 garded in certain stages of civilization as a test of more 
 than ordinary wisdom. Their position in the evolution 
 of thought and custom is well worth investigation. It Is 
 too large a subject for discussion here. 
 
 Occasionally the instrument of divination is wholly 
 wanting, and the first man met with is taken for king. 
 
 ' Ralston, Tibetan Tales, p. 29. 
 ^ BakhtyAr Ndma, 51. 
 
VOICE OF THE STONE OF DESTINY 301 
 
 Among a tribe in Morocco is told a tale of which the 
 hero is made king, because he is the first man found 
 outside the city-gate when it is opened in the morning.^ 
 Another of these stories is that of Ali Shar and Zumurrud 
 in the Arabian Nights. Ali Shar was a prodigal, and 
 Zumurrud was his favourite female slave. By a series 
 of diverting adventures which do not concern us, they 
 are separated. After much suffering, Zumurrud contrives 
 to possess herself of a man's clothes, horse and sword. 
 In the course of her wanderings she draws nigh to a 
 city-gate, where she finds the emirs and nobles with the 
 troops drawn up and waiting, as Conaire found the three 
 kings waiting on the way to Tara. The soldiery, on 
 seeing her, dash forward. They dismount and prostrate 
 themselves before her, saluting her as lord and sultan. 
 On enquiry she learns that the sultan of the city is dead ; 
 and on such occasions it is the custom that the troops 
 sally forth to the suburbs, there to sojourn for three days. 
 Whoever comes during that time from the quarter whence 
 she has come is made king. Being a lady of resource, 
 she accepts the position, administers the kingdom with 
 efficiency, and ultimately finds means to avenge herself 
 on her enemies and to be reunited with her master, Ali 
 Shar.^ An Indian folk-tale relates that in a certain city 
 " it was the custom that when the raja died the nobles 
 of the kingdom used to take their seats at the gate of 
 the city, and the first man who appeared before them 
 they made their raja."^ 
 
 The same tale is told by the Taranchi Tartars, an 
 
 1 Stumme, 123, Story No. 15. 
 
 2 Burton, Nights, iv. 210. 
 
 ' N. Ind. N. andQ., iv. 66. Similarly in a story from Mirzapur, the first 
 man met in the forest is made king. Ibid., ii. 81. In another story from 
 Mirzapur a trained elephant is let loose to choose the king's bride. Ibid., 
 iii. 103. 
 
302 RITUAL AND BELIEF 
 
 agricultural people who are now settled in the valley of 
 the Ili, a large river flowing into Lake Balkash, in 
 Central Asia. But it is told with this difference. When 
 the hero draws nigh to the gate of the city, all the 
 people cry out " Cuckoo, cuckoo ! " On enquiring why 
 they do this, they reply : " Our ruler has been dead for 
 three days. He had a magical bird, which has been let 
 fly, and on whosesoever head the bird settles, him we 
 raise to be our prince." Here the augury is drawn from 
 a bird.^ 
 
 In another Tartar mUrchen, this time from the west of 
 Siberia,- the ruler of the town has grown old, and is 
 desirous of retiring. He has a bird which is let fly and 
 chooses a woman. She is immediately accepted as prince 
 and installed in the place of the old man.^ In a Kurdish 
 mUrchen a special bird called " the bird of dominion " is 
 fetched, it is not said whence, for the purpose of the 
 divination.* 
 
 An animal of some kind is, in fact, the agent in most 
 of these tales. A Buddhist tale from Cambodia tells us 
 that, the royal family having become extinct, it was the 
 custom to ask the royal family of another kingdom to 
 furnish a king. The council of mandarins determined 
 to take this course. Under the advice of an old astrologer 
 horses were harnessed to the carriage — we must under- 
 stand, no doubt, the royal carriage — and then allowed to 
 go in any direction they pleased, without a driver. This 
 is described as consulting the horses. The first day the 
 horses re-entered the palace. The next day they drew 
 the carriage in the direction of a neighbouring kingdom. 
 Twice, thrice the carriage was turned back ; but the 
 
 1 Radloff, vi. 157. 
 
 2 Ibid., iv. 143. 
 
 3 Prym und Socin, Kurdische Sammlungen, Erste Abteil. (St Peters- 
 burg, 1887) ; iibersetz., 32. 
 
VOICE OF THE STONE OF DESTINY 303 
 
 horses persisted in drawing it again in the same direction. 
 It was accordingly decided to demand a prince from that 
 kingdom.^ 
 
 In the East, however, as might be expected, it is 
 usually the royal animal, the elephant, which thus confers 
 the kingdom. I have already cited one great collection 
 of Indian tales. There is another, only second to the 
 Jataka in extent, the KatM Sarit Sdgara, or Ocean of 
 the Streams of Story, translated a few years ago by Dr 
 Tawney. It contains a mcirchen, perhaps derived from 
 that older and more famous collection, the Panchatantra, 
 of a man who retired with his wife to the forest, to 
 practise austerities. While there he rescued from the 
 river a wretch whose hands and feet had been cut off, and 
 who had been thrown by his enemies into the stream to 
 die. His wife, probably sick of austerities, falls in love 
 with the cripple thus rescued, and plots her husband's 
 death. She succeeds in precipitating him into the river ; 
 but instead of being drowned he is thrown on the bank 
 near a city. "Now it happened that at that time the 
 king of that city had just died, and in that country there 
 was an immemorial custom, that an auspicious elephant 
 was driven about by the citizens, and any man that he 
 took up with his trunk and placed on his back, was 
 anointed king." The hero of the story, who is "an 
 incarnation of a portion of a Bodhisattva," is of course 
 chosen ; and when he gets the chance he inflicts condign 
 punishment on his wife.^ The elephant is here described 
 as " an auspicious elephant." Sometimes he is called the 
 "crown-elephant," the special property and symbol of 
 royalty. So in a Tamil story we learn that the king of 
 
 1 Leclfere, i6. "Tous ceux qui efaient presents &. ce conseil . . . 
 deciderent qu'on consulterait imm^diatement las chevaux." 
 
 2 Kathd, ii. 102. 
 
304 RITUAL AND BELIEF 
 
 a certain city dying childless, on his death-bed called his 
 ministers together and directed them " to send his crown- 
 elephant with a flower-wreath in his trunk, and to choose 
 him on whom the elephant throws the garland, as his 
 successor." ^ In a folk-tale from the far north of India 
 it is " the sacred elephant " before whom all the in- 
 habitants are required to pass in file, and the animal is 
 expected to elect one of them to the vacant throne " by 
 kneeling down and saluting the favoured individual as 
 he passed by, for in this manner kings were elected in 
 that country." ^ In a story which appears to come from 
 Gujerat, the king dies without an heir, and the astrologers 
 prophesy that his heir would be the first who entered the 
 gates of the city on the morrow of the king's decease, 
 and around whose neck the sacred elephant would throw 
 a garland of flowers.^ 
 
 At other times the elephant alone does not make the 
 choice. With him is conjoined some other animal or 
 symbol of royalty. A tale from Kashmir speaks of a 
 land where, when the king died, his elephant " was driven 
 all over the country and his hawk was made to fly here, 
 there and everywhere in search of a successor ; and it 
 came to pass that before whomsoever the elephant bowed 
 and on whosesoever hand the hawk alighted, he was sup- 
 posed to be the divinely chosen one." * In the Kathakoga, 
 a collection of stories illustrating the tenets and practice 
 of Jainism, five ordeals, as they are expressly called, are 
 invoked. " The mighty elephant came into the garden 
 outside the city. There the elephant sprinkled Prince 
 
 1 Natesa Sastri, 126. 
 
 2 Steel and Temple, 140. In other stories from Kashmir, it is " an 
 elephant" (Knowles, 169, 309). 
 
 3 Rev. Trad. Pop., iv. 442. 
 
 * Knowles, 158. Other stories. Ibid., 17, 309; Bakhtydr Ndma, 169 
 (notes by the Editor) ; Day, 99, Story No. 5. 
 
VOICE OF THE STONE OF DESTINY 305 
 
 Amaradatta [we have already heard of sprinkling as a 
 means of hallowing to kingship], and put him on its 
 back. Then the horse neighed. The two chowries 
 fanned the prince. An umbrella was held over his head. 
 A divine voice was heard in the air : ' Long live King 
 Amaradatta.'"^ 
 
 In most of these cases the de'cision is clearly regarded 
 as the judgement of Heaven ; and in every case the 
 judgement of Heaven may at least be inferred. The 
 incident is hardly less a favourite in the West than 
 in the East. In the West, too, it is an appeal to the 
 judgement of Heaven. All the European stories, how- 
 ever, in which it occurs have been recorded within the last 
 century ; consequently the incident in question appears 
 only in a very late form. Now an appeal to the judge- 
 ment of Heaven in the selection of a ruler is familiar 
 to the peasant mind of the continent in one solitary 
 instance — that of the choice of a pope. Accordingly this 
 is the favourite, if not the only form of the story as it 
 is told in France, Italy, and Switzerland. The charming 
 collection by the late M. Luzel of religious and quasi- 
 religious tales of Lower Brittany contains one entitled 
 " Pope Innocent." The hero is a son of the King of 
 France cast off by his parents, who attempt to put him 
 to death. He sets out for Rome to be present at the 
 election of a new pope. On the way he falls in with two 
 Capuchin monks. The elder of them is gentle to him, 
 the other suspicious and hostile. The youth is a bit of 
 a prig. Perhaps this is not to be wondered at, seeing 
 that he is endowed with supernatural knowledge and 
 power. These qualities make his conduct throughout 
 the journey enigmatical to the point of excusing, if not 
 justifying, the attitude of his unfriendly companion. 
 
 1 Kathdkoi^a, 155. 
 
 20 
 
3o6 RITUAL AND BELIEF 
 
 Everyone takes him for a sorcerer ; and the younger 
 monk says in so many words to the other, that they will 
 be lucky if he do not bring them to the gallows or the 
 stake before reaching Rome. As they draw near the 
 holy city, the boy hears some birds in a hedge foretell that 
 one of the three will be made pope, just as the cocks 
 were overheard in the story I have cited from the 
 Jataka. Thereupon he enquires of each of his companions 
 what office he will give him if he (the monk) attain this 
 dignity. The elder monk promises to make him his first 
 cardinal, the younger contemptuously says he will make 
 him beadle in his cathedral. Arrived at Rome, they find 
 that the choice of a pope proceeds in this way : There 
 are to be three days' processions. Every pilgrim has 
 to carry a candle, not lighted, in his hand ; and he whose 
 candle lights of itself is the person designated by God to 
 the office of pope. The youth, however, has no money 
 to buy candles. So he carries merely a white wand which 
 he has cut in the hedge where the birds sang ; and people, 
 seeing him, shrug their shoulders and exclaim : " Look 
 at that poor innocent ! " It is, however, not the candle 
 of an archbishop, or bishop, or of any great dignitary 
 of the church ; it is not that of an abbot, or a monk, 
 or even of a simple priest, which lights ; it is the boy 
 Innocent's white wand. The omen is refused on the 
 first day ; nor is it accepted until it has been repeated on 
 the second and third days of the ceremony. At last the 
 premier cardinal kneels before him, acknowledges him 
 as pope and asks for his benediction. Thus Innocent 
 becomes pope at Rome, by the will of God.^ 
 
 The story of Pope Innocent belongs to the cycle of the 
 Outcast Child, a well-known group of folk-tales, of which 
 
 1 Luzel, Ug. Chrti., i. 282 (pt. iii., Story No. 11); a variant, MSlusine, 
 1.300- 
 
VOICE OF THE STONE OF DESTINY 307 
 
 the examples most familiar to us are the story of King 
 Lear and that of Joseph and his brethren. The hero (or 
 heroine) of these tales is cast off by his relatives for 
 reasons at the least excusable. Sometimes, as in the 
 Teleut tale already mentioned, his life is attempted. But 
 in the end he attains a place and dignity which enable 
 him to compel recognition of his wrongs, and, after the 
 infliction of retributive humiliation, to pardon the 
 offenders. In these mUrchen the pope is not always 
 chosen by the burning of a taper. In the Italian variants 
 the favourite method is by a dove which alights on the 
 hero's head. In a Swiss story from the Upper Valais 
 two snow-white doves settle on his shoulders. In a 
 Basque story, as the travellers approach Rome the bells 
 begin to ring of themselves. In a story from Upper 
 Brittany the will of Heaven is declared by a bell, which 
 rings of itself when the destined pope passes beneath it. 
 In a story from Normandy the new pope is indicated by 
 " a portion of Heaven stooping upon him whom Jesus 
 would choose to govern His Church." The collector, 
 while faithfully recording this singular phrase, is puzzled 
 by it, and suggests that it must mean a cloud resting on 
 him.^ In all cases it is quite clear that the falling of the 
 lot, however it may be accomplished, is regarded as a 
 direct expression of the divine will. The sacred character 
 of the Papacy, and the names of historical popes, as 
 Innocent and Gregory, given to the heroes, raise the 
 suspicion that these tales are something more than 
 mdrchen, and lead directly to the enquiry, not whether 
 such prodigies have in fact been the means of determin- 
 ing the succession to the popedom, but whether they 
 have been believed to have occurred. 
 
 Now it happens that this very event was reported in 
 
 1 F.-L. Joum., iv. 338 sgq., including the references at foot of 348. 
 
3o8 RITUAL AND BELIEF 
 
 connection with the election of the great Pope Innocent 
 III., in the year 1198. Three doves, it was said, flew 
 about the church during the proceedings, and at last one 
 of them, a white one, came and perched on his right 
 side, which was held to be a favourable omen.-' In the 
 atmosphere of the Middle Ages an occurrence of the 
 kind, if it happened, could not fail to make a great 
 impression on the popular mind. The dove would be 
 regarded as no less than the embodiment of the Holy 
 Spirit. Long before Innocent's day — indeed before the 
 Middle Ages began — something like this would seem to 
 have happened. It is recorded by Eusebius that in the 
 reign of the Emperor Gordian, who ruled from a.d. 238 
 to 244, when all the brethren were assembled in the 
 church for the purpose of electing a successor to Anteros, 
 Bishop of Rome, suddenly a dove flew down from on 
 high and sat on the head of Fabian. Thereupon the 
 assembly with one voice acclaimed him bishop and seated 
 him on the episcopal throne.^ 
 
 Nor were popes alone thus honoured. Dr Conyers 
 Middleton, in his once famous Letter from Rome, records 
 that " in the cathedral church of Ravenna I saw, in mosaic 
 work, the pictures of those archbishops of the place who, 
 as all their historians affirm, were chosen for several ages 
 successively by the special designation of the Holy Ghost, 
 who in a full assembly of the clergy and people, used to 
 descend visibly on the person elect in the shape of a 
 dove." * Among the apocryphal stories in The Book of 
 Sir John Maundeville we are told that in the convent 
 on Mount Sinai are many lamps burning. The author, 
 
 1 Friedrichvon Raumer, Geschichte der Hohenstaufen und ihrer Zeit 
 (Leipzig, 1824), iii. 74. 
 
 ^ Eusebius, Eccles. Hist., vi. 29. 
 
 2 Middleton, Works (2nd ed. London, 1755), vol. v., p. 153, citing 
 " Hist. Raven., etc. Aring [hus], Rom[a] Subt[erranea], 1. vi., c. 48." 
 
VOICE OF THE STONE OF DESTINY 309 
 
 whoever he may have been, writes rather a muddled 
 account of the election of " prelate of the abbey." I 
 gather from it that each monk has a lamp, and that when a 
 prelate is chosen his lamp will light of itself, if he be a good 
 man and worthy of the office ; if otherwise, the lamp, 
 though lighted, will go out. An inconsistent tradition ran 
 that the priest who sang mass for the deceased dignitary 
 found written upon the altar the name of him who was to 
 be chosen in his place. But though the miracle-monger who 
 writes under the name of Sir John Maundeville professes 
 to have been at the monastery and questioned the monks, he 
 admits that he could not induce them to tell him the facts.^ 
 The marvels reported of the election of Christian 
 bishops are told with little variation of the election of 
 other rulers. Paulus Diaconus relates that when Liut- 
 prand, king of the Lombards, a contemporary of Charles 
 Martel, was thought to be dying, his subjects met outside 
 the walls of his capital, Pavia, at the church of St Mary 
 ad Perticas,^ to choose a successor. Their choice fell 
 on the king's nephew, Hildeprand, in whose hand they 
 formally placed the royal spear. Immediately a cuckoo 
 flew down and settled on the point of the spear, as it will 
 be remembered a cuckoo in the Tartar story settled on 
 the kalender's head. This, however, was reckoned by 
 
 1 Early Trav., 158. The casting of lots is divination — an appeal to 
 supernatural powers to decide the event. Such divination (frequently 
 glossed as the ballot) took place at the election of Matthias to succeed 
 Judas Iscariot in the apostolate (Acts i. 23). It seems to have been a not 
 uncommon practice in the Middle Ages for the election of ecclesiastical 
 dignitaries. It is expressly reprehended in a tract Z>« decern prcsceptis, 
 published in the year 1439, by Thomas Ebendorfer of Haselbach, Court 
 Chaplain and Privy Councillor of the Emperor Frederick III {Ziit. des 
 Vereins, xii. 11). 
 
 2 The church derived its name from having been erected in a Lombard 
 burial-ground. Poles were set up on the graves, and on each pole the 
 wooden figure of a dove. It is suggestive that the scene of the story is 
 placed in such surroundings. 
 
3IO RITUAL AND BELIEF 
 
 Lombard wiseacres as an evil omen. Their augury was 
 so far justified, that King Liutprand did not die after all, 
 but recovered from his sickness and was not well pleased 
 that his subjects had been in such a hurry to find a 
 successor. Yet he did not refuse to recognize his nephew 
 as co-ruler ; and when he at last died, Hildeprand 
 succeeded him.^ Of another king of the Lombards, 
 Desiderius, a contemporary of Charles the Great, the 
 story is told that the Lombard nobles were meeting to 
 choose a king at Pavia, and Desiderius, a pious man of 
 noble lineage who dwelt at Brescia, journeyed thither to 
 be present, accompanied by a serving man. At Leno, 
 between Brescia and Cremona, being weary, he lay down 
 under a tree to sleep. As he slept his servant beheld a 
 snake crawl forth and wind itself round his head like a 
 crown. The servant was afraid to move, lest the snake 
 might injure his master ; but after a while it uncoiled 
 and crept away. Desiderius meanwhile had dreamt that 
 the crown of the Lombards was placed on his head. 
 When he reached Pavia, the dream was fulfilled.^ 
 
 It is said that in Senjero, a petty kingdom in the south 
 of Abyssinia, when the king dies the nobles assemble 
 outside the city in the open plain, and wait until a vulture 
 or an insect settles on one of them, who is then saluted 
 as king.* Everyone is familiar with the story told by 
 
 ' Paulus Diaconus, Gesta Longobard., vi. 155. See also Soldan, 145, 
 148. Hildeprand did not reign long. He was deprived of the throne a 
 few months later by Ratchis, who reigned for five years, 744-749. 
 
 ^ Soldan, 150. 
 
 3 Vost, Afr. Juris., \. 138, citing Harris, The Highlands of Ethiopia. 
 Post notes that Krapf contests the accuracy of this account and states the 
 succession was hereditary. The two statements are perhaps not irre- 
 concilable. The succession to the throne of Businza, south of Lake 
 Victoria Nyanza, was hereditary, but among the candidates an animal 
 omen was decisive. Father van Thiel, who says this, however, omits to 
 tell us exactly how {Anthropos, vi. 502). See also, as to other tribes, 
 below, pp. 317 sqq. 
 
VOICE OF THE STONE OF DESTINY 311 
 
 Herodotus concerning the election of a successor to 
 Smerdis the Magian, usurper of the throne of Persia, 
 how it was agreed that the successful conspirators should 
 meet at sunrise, and that he whose horse first neighed 
 should be king. According to Herodotus, Darius won 
 by a trick of his groom. That may or may not have 
 been. What interests us in the story is that it was 
 believed that the succession on this occasion to the throne 
 of Persia was determined by an augury drawn from 
 horses, and that the neighing of Darius' horse was 
 instantly followed by the further manifestation of the will 
 of Heaven in thunder and lightning from a clear sky.^ 
 The elephant, the horse and the divine voice of Indian 
 mSrchen here find their counterpart, if not in actual fact, 
 at least in the serious belief of the venerable historian, 
 and the people whose tradition he reports. In this 
 connection it must not be forgotten that among many 
 peoples, horses were sacred animals. They were sacrificed 
 to the gods ; they were looked upon as in the counsels 
 of the gods ; their neighing was a favourable omen. It 
 is therefore not at all improbable that Herodotus is here 
 recording the mode of choice actually adopted.^ 
 
 Similarly in the annals of Kedda, a portion of the 
 Malay Peninsula, there is a story of the rajah who was 
 dethroned and fled. His nobles and queen sent to the 
 King of Siam for a new ruler. He, having consulted his 
 astrologers, was advised that the true heir to the throne 
 could only be discovered by a supernaturally intelligent 
 elephant, named Kamala Jauhari, which was wandering 
 about on the confines of Kedda and Patani. When the 
 envoys brought back the message to the Kedda chiefs, 
 
 1 Herod., iii. 84 sqq. 
 
 2 Grimm has collected instances, Teut. Myth., i. 47 ; ii. 658 ; iv. 1301, 
 148 1. Also von Negelein, Zeits, des Ver., xi. 406 sqq. 
 
312 RITUAL AND BELIEF 
 
 they decked the palace for a f ^te. " Then all the people 
 held a fast for seven days and nights. . . . On the night 
 of the seventh day the dupa and incense were burned, 
 and all sorts of perfumes were diffused around, and at 
 the same time the name of the super-intelligent elephant 
 was invoked to attend upon the four mantrls [ministers]. 
 Immediately almost there was a sound, like the rushing 
 of a coming tempest, from the East, with earthquakes, 
 agitations and terrific sounds. In the midst of all this 
 uproar the terrified spectators were delighted to see 
 Kamala Jauhari standing at the hall, and thrusting up 
 her trunk into it. The four mantris instantly rubbed 
 her with cosmetics and bathed her with lime-juice, while 
 others applied cosmetics and sweet-smelling oils, rubbing 
 these over its whole body. Then a meal was served up 
 to it, and put into its mouth. The state howdah was 
 now placed on its back, along with all its appurtenances, 
 curtains and hangings. Then one of the mantris read the 
 King of Siam's letter close to the ear of Kamala Jauhari, 
 acquainting her that she was expected to assist in finding 
 out a rajah for Kedda by all means. When Jauhari heard 
 all this, she bowed her head and played her trunk, and 
 then set forth in the direction of the East, followed and 
 attended by from three to four hundred men, having 
 banners and flags streaming in the wind, and being 
 supplied with all necessaries, and armed with various 
 kinds of spears, held in hand." It is needless to say that 
 the expedition thus pompously described was successful 
 in discovering the boy. The elephant caught him up in 
 her trunk, and, placing him on her back in the howdah, 
 carried him off in triumph to the palace, where he was 
 forthwith clad in royal robe^ and crowned.^ 
 
 In Indian belief it is not only super-intelligent 
 1 fourn. Ind. Arckip., iii. 316. 
 
VOICE OF THE STONE OF DESTINY 313 
 
 elephants which can discover the future occupant. of a 
 throne. The elephant is the possession and symbol of 
 royalty. But in the stories, other royal properties 
 are also instruments of divination for that purpose. 
 That these stories were founded on current superstitions 
 is shown by the fact that among the ornaments of the 
 throne of the famous Tippoo, conquered by the British 
 at the end of the eighteenth century, was a bird of 
 paradise made of gold and covered with diamonds, rubies 
 and emeralds, and represented in the act of fluttering. 
 Of this bird it was believed that every head it over- 
 shadowed would, in time, wear a crown. "When Tippoo 
 was defeated and slain, the Marquis Wellesley, at that time 
 governor-general, sent it home to the Court of Directors 
 of the East India Company.^ It is now at Windsor. 
 
 Coming back to Europe, we find the succession to the 
 throne of one of the Scythian tribes determined by the 
 possession of a certain stone. The author of the work 
 on the names of rivers and mountains attributed to 
 Plutarch relates that in the river Tanais a stone like a 
 crystal grows. It resembles in shape a man wearing a 
 crown. When the king dies, whosoever finds it, and can 
 produce it in the assembly held on the banks of the river 
 to elect a new sovereign, is recognized as the rightful 
 successor.^ For this statement Ctesiphon on Plants and 
 Aristobulus on Stones are cited, authors whose works are 
 lost and who are unknown by any other citations. It 
 is, therefore, impossible for us to judge how far they are 
 likely to have known, or with what accuracy they may 
 have presented, the practice of the barbarous tribe referred 
 to. There can, however, be no doubt that election by 
 divination has been resorted to by peoples in many parts 
 of the world. The succession of Grand Lamas of Lhasa 
 > Forbes, ii. 465. ^ Plutarch, De Fluv., xiv. 
 
314 RITUAL AND BELIEF 
 
 supplies examples of both story and custom. The custom 
 used to be to write on slips of paper the names of all 
 likely male children born under miraculous portents (of 
 which anon) just after the death of the preceding Lama, 
 to put these slips into a golden urn and thus ballot for 
 his successor (or, as it is believed, his new incarnation) 
 amid constant prayer. But the Chinese court, which has 
 a considerable stake in the decision, was thought to 
 influence the selection. The state-oracle has therefore 
 predicted disaster by the appearance of a monster as the 
 Dalai or Grand Lama, if the ancient practice were con- 
 tinued ; and on a recent vacancy, in 1876, he foretold 
 the discovery, by a pious monk, of the future Grand 
 Lama, announcing that his discovery would be accompanied 
 by horse-neighings. He sent this monk to Chukorgye, 
 where he dreamed that he was to look in a certain lake 
 for the future Dalai. There, pictured in the bosom of 
 the lake, the monk saw the child with his parents in 
 the house where he was born, and at the same instant 
 his horse neighed. In due course the child himself was 
 found, and successfully encountered the usual test, by 
 recognizing the articles which had belonged to him in his 
 previous life. Every child who is a candidate has to 
 pass this test. He is confronted with a duplicate collection 
 of various sacred objects, and he is required to point out 
 among them the genuine possessions of the Dalai Lama. 
 The Dalai Lama is not the only Grand Lama. The head 
 of every lamasery, or convent of lamas, bears this title. 
 When the Grand Lama of such a lamasery dies, his 
 successor, or new incarnation, is sought first of all by 
 divination. A diviner is called in, who, after consulting 
 his books, directs the lamas where to look for the boy. 
 When they have found him, he has to pass a similar test to 
 that just described. In addition he has to submit to cross- 
 
VOICE OF THE STONE OF DESTINY 315 
 
 examination on the name and situation of the lamasery, 
 and how many lamas reside there, and on the habits of 
 the deceased Grand Lama, and the manner of his death. 
 
 The portents at the birth of a Dalai Lama are 
 magnificent. It is not irrelevant to mention them here, 
 as they may be regarded as part of the auguries which 
 decide the succession. An official report from the 
 Chinese Commissioner to the Emperor, on such an 
 occasion in the year 1839, declares, among other things, 
 that it was ascertained that on the night before the boy 
 was born, a brilliant radiance of many colours was 
 manifested in the air, and the water in the well of the 
 temple courtyard changed to a milk-white colour. Seven 
 days later a flame appeared on the rock behind the post- 
 station. When the rock was examined, no trace of fire 
 remained, but a sacred image and characters were found, 
 together with the print of footsteps. Moreover, on the 
 night when the child was born, the sound of music was 
 heard, and milk dropped upon the pillars of the house.^ 
 
 The Buddhists are not the only sect in the Chinese 
 Empire which has a supreme head appointed by religious 
 divination. The arch -abbot of Taouism dwells in a 
 princely residence on the Dragon and Tiger Mountains, 
 in the province of Kiang-si. "The power of this 
 dignitary," we are told, " is immense, and is acknowledged 
 by all the priests of his sect throughout the empire." 
 The office has been confined for centuries to one family 
 or clan. When the arch-abbot dies, all the male members 
 of his clan are cited to appear at the official residence. 
 The name of each one is engraved on a separate piece of 
 lead, and deposited in a large earthenware vase filled with 
 water. Standing round this vase are priests who invoke 
 the three persons of the Taouist Trinity to cause the piece 
 > Hue, ii. 343 ; i. 278 ; Waddell, 245 sf^. 
 
3i6 RITUAL AND BELIEF 
 
 of lead bearing the name of the person on whom the choice 
 of the gods has fallen, to come to the surface of the water.-^ 
 
 The Taouist dignitary seems to possess only spiritual 
 power, except probably in his own monastery. The 
 Dalai Lama, on the other hand, retains some portion 
 of civil rule. In both cases the person of the ruler is 
 looked upon as sacred. Among savage and barbarous 
 nations the office of priest or medicine-man is often not 
 clearly distinguished from that of temporal ruler. The 
 instances in which the chief or king is looked upon as 
 divine, in which he is responsible for the weather, in 
 which he causes the crops to grow, and performs other 
 superhuman functions, are too numerous, and too well- 
 known to be mentioned here. Since the publication of 
 The Golden "Bough they have been among the common- 
 places of folklore. I need only remind you that " the 
 divinity that doth hedge a king" is not confined to 
 savagery and barbarism. It has lasted far into civiliza- 
 tion, and been sedulously cultivated for political purposes 
 by royalty in every age. A Roman Emperor was Divus 
 Augustus. When the dignity of king becomes hereditary, 
 the monarch is held to be at least descended from the 
 gods. The Mikado traces his descent from the Sun- 
 goddess.- King George V. traces his from Woden, the 
 war-god of the Anglo-Saxon tribes which colonized 
 Britain in the fifth and sixth centuries. It is true that 
 this genealogy, at one time seriously credited, is now 
 treated as fable ; but even yet the coronation ceremonies 
 of "His Sacred Majesty," though not directly of pagan 
 origin, witness to the mysterious sanctity that surrounds 
 him. 
 
 A view of kingship thus exalted renders it easy to 
 understand why, when circumstances compelled the choice 
 
 ' Gray, i. 103. 
 
VOICE OF THE STONE OF DESTINY 317 
 
 of a king, the divine will must have been most anxiously 
 consulted. It was not merely that the qualities of a 
 leader in battle, a wise judge and administrator, and a 
 prudent politician were needed. Luck and the favour 
 of the gods were more than these, to say nothing of 
 the marks of godhead, which in many cases it was 
 necessary to discover in his person, conduct or know- 
 ledge. Hence the choice of the people, or rather the 
 recognition by the people, would depend upon the 
 auguries, or upon more direct indications of the decision 
 of Heaven. When Dagara, the King of Karagwe, on 
 the western shore of Lake Victoria Nyanza, died, he 
 left behind him three sons, any of whom was eligible 
 to the throne. The officers of state put before them 
 a small mystic drum. It was of trifling weight, but, 
 being loaded with charms, no one could lift it, save 
 he to whom the ancestral spirits were inclined as the 
 successor. Nor was this enough. The victor in this 
 contest was required to undergo a further trial of his 
 right. He was made to sit, as he himself informed 
 Captain Speke, on the ground at a certain spot where 
 the land would gradually rise up under him, like a 
 telescope, until it reached the skies. The aspirant who 
 was approved by the spirits was then gradually lowered 
 in safety ; whereas, if not approved, the elastic hill 
 would suddenly collapse, and he would be dashed to 
 pieces. It is needless to add, that Rumanika, Captain 
 Speke's informant, claimed to have gone through the 
 ordeal with success.^ 
 
 1 Speke, Journ., 221. A less astonishing species of augury, and one 
 reminding us of English Hallowe'en practices, is that adopted by the 
 Shilluk on the Upper Nile. On choosing a king a small stone for every- 
 one of the royal princes is thrown into the fire. The stones of the 
 rejected candidates fly out again ; he whose stone remains in the fire 
 becomes king {Anthropos, v. 333). 
 
318 RITUAL AND BELIEF 
 
 Light is perhaps thrown on the matter by the final 
 test actually imposed on the successor elected to the 
 throne of Ukerewe, an island in the lake, and therefore 
 adjacent to the kingdom of Karagwe. He is taken to 
 Kitale, the burial-place of the kings, about two kilo- 
 metres from the capital. There lies an immense stone 
 rising like a donkey's back from the soil, beginning a 
 few centimetres only above the earth, and gently swell- 
 ing until it attains the height of a little more than a 
 metre. It is called the ruswa. The provisionally pro- 
 claimed king, with both hands laden with lances, bows 
 and arrows, and wearing gigantic native sandals, is 
 required to climb it slowly and with short steps to 
 the top. If he be so unfortunate as to slip and fall 
 on the way, he is unworthy of the drum (the symbol 
 of sovereignty), and is driven away without pity. If, 
 on the other hand, he successfully reach the platform, or 
 highest point of the rock, he is acclaimed in a frenzy of 
 excitement, the men breaking forth into a sham fight, the 
 women joyfully shouting " Yu, yu ! " The test is over ; 
 he is definitely king.^ It is not impossible that, reduced 
 to its final terms, some such ordeal as this was what the 
 candidate for the throne of Karagwe actually underwent. 
 
 These are barbarous auguries. But aU auguries and 
 oracles are barbarous. We do not know how Melchizedek 
 was appointed King of Salem, The writer of the Epistle 
 to the Hebrews refers to him as " without father, with- 
 out mother, without genealogy," as if there were some- 
 thing peculiar in the omission of his pedigree, though 
 in this respect he did not diiFer from the other kings 
 mentioned in the narrative. However, the discovery 
 at Tel-el-Amarna of letters from Ebed-tob, King of 
 Salem in the fifteenth century b.c, to his suzerain the 
 
 1 Anthropos, vi. 70. 
 
VOICE OF THE STONE OF DESTINY 319 
 
 King of Egypt, has rendered it possible to suppose 
 that Melchizedek did not come to the throne by 
 inheritance, and consequently that his parentage was un- 
 important. Ebed-tob, protesting his loyalty as an ally 
 and a tributary of the King of Egypt, says : " Neither 
 my father, nor my mother, (but) the oracle of the 
 mighty king, established (me) in the house of (my) 
 father." In other words, he states, as Professor Sayce 
 interprets the expression, " that his authority was not 
 based on the right of inheritance ; he had been called 
 to exercise it by a divine voice." ^ We must beware of 
 drawing too large an inference from a single phrase. 
 Assuming that " the mighty king " is the god 'Shalim, 
 and not the suzerain whom he is addressing, there remains 
 the question what is meant by "the house of his 
 father." Evidently it is the royal office ; but is it not 
 the royal office previously filled by his ancestors .'' The 
 correct view, I would suggest, is that the kingship was, 
 like that of Karagwe, descendible to any scion of the 
 royal house, subject to the decision of the oracle. The 
 pedigree then would be important, but not all-important. 
 The god would decide among the candidates. Some 
 such arrangement would seem to have been recognized 
 in the heroic age of Greece, if we may trust the some- 
 what obscure expressions of the Odyssey. There are 
 examples in the Homeric poems of kings who have 
 succeeded to the inheritance of their sires. Agamemnon 
 is one. On the other hand, the position of Ulysses 
 is enigmatical. It is enigmatical in regard to Laertes, 
 his father, who was still alive ; while, if Ulysses were 
 dead, it would seem that Telemachus, his son, would 
 only have the first, but by no means an indefeasible, 
 claim. As Mr Crooke has pointed out, it results from 
 
 ^ Records of the Past, 2nd series [1891] v. 68, 62. 
 
320 RITUAL AND BELIEF 
 
 the interview between Telemachus and the wooers in 
 the first book of the Odyssey, that some kind of divine 
 nomination should appoint the king, and that the choice 
 might fall, not on Telemachus, but on another of the 
 Achseans in sea-girt Ithaca.^ It is dangerous to read 
 into the poem what is not expressed. The poet is 
 describing an age already mythical, though no doubt 
 he has embodied considerable fragments of actual 
 custom in the representation. He does not detail 
 the process of appointment of king. Consequently, all 
 we can safely say (and that on the assumption that 
 here we have one of the fragments of actual custom) is 
 that the manners and whole atmosphere of the poem 
 correspond with a stage of culture in which the will 
 of the gods would be ascertained by augury. In this 
 connection it may not be irrelevant to refer to the 
 early traditions of Rome. The quarrel between Romulus 
 and Remus concerned not merely the site of the city, 
 but also the founder after whose name it should be 
 called — in other words, the royal dignity. It was settled 
 by an augury taken from the flight of vultures. Numa, 
 the successor of Romulus, though elected, took care to 
 assure himself by auguries that the gods approved of 
 the choice. It must be remembered that the legends, 
 as we have them, took shape under the republic when 
 the ordinary human process of election had been long 
 established. The habit thus formed probably affected 
 them ; and I think we are warranted in suspecting that 
 if we could recover them at a prior stage, we should 
 find the appointment of king resting on the will of 
 the gods and ascertained by divination. 
 
 ^ Folk-Lore, ix. 114. Mr Crooke does not refer to the speech of 
 Eurymachus immediately following that of Telemachus, which confirms 
 what has been said on this subject by Antinous and Telemachus. 
 
VOICE OF THE STONE OF DESTINY 321 
 
 No argument is needed to show that the form of 
 tradition is affected, even where the substance remains, 
 by external changes. Customs referred to in a legend 
 may become obsolete and consequently unintelligible ; 
 and the reference to them must of necessity be modified 
 into something which is understood, or it will be 
 dropped into oblivion. The tradition of the Lia FMl, 
 with which I started, is an example. To step on the 
 stone was to put one's claim to sovereignty to proof. 
 As Keating relates, doubtless from some older author, 
 on it "were enchantments, for it used to roar under 
 the person who had the best right to obtain the 
 sovereignty of Ireland." But this is the latest form 
 of the tradition. We can, however, reconstruct the 
 earlier form by comparison with custom and tradition 
 elsewhere. They render it clear that the stone was 
 once held to declare the divine will as to the succession. 
 Further back still, it may have been regarded as itself 
 endowed with power of choice.^ Strictly speaking, this 
 is not augury, for augury is the ascertainment and 
 declaration of a higher will. But some such animistic 
 belief may have been the seed-plot out of which augury 
 grew as gods properly so-called were evolved. At the 
 stage at which the tradition reaches us the Lia Fdil 
 no longer either chooses on its own account or makes 
 known the choice of Heaven. At this stage, not only 
 is it enchanted, consequently diabolic rather than divine 
 in the source of its power, but also it merely points 
 out him who has "the best right." The principle of 
 
 1 I am indebted to Miss Burne for suggesting that something like this 
 is the true interpretation of the use alike of the Lia Fdil and of the 
 various regal paraphernalia employed in the stories. As she puts it, 
 they would know their rightful owner. This, however, is to assume the 
 principle of heredity as already established. The animistic belief involved 
 in the interpretation suggested was perhaps applied even before then. 
 
 21 
 
322 RITUAL AND BELIEF 
 
 heredity is now firmly established ; its application alone 
 is uncertain. When the principle is established and 
 the application certain, it is not necessary to consult 
 an oracle. 
 
 The changes I thus venture to postulate are steps in 
 the disintegration of the myth. A Welsh tale now to be 
 cited has taken a further step in that it simply credits the 
 instrument of divination with the diagnosis of blood 
 royal, the practical purpose of determining the succession 
 to the kingdom having disappeared. According to 
 Giraldus Cambrensis, it happened that in the time of 
 Henry I. Gruffydd ap Rhys ap Tudor, who, although he 
 only held of the king one commote, namely, a fourth 
 part of the cantref of Caio, yet was reputed as lord in 
 Deheubarth, was returning from court by way of 
 Llangorse Lake, in Brecknockshire, with Milo, Earl of 
 Hereford and Lord of Brecknock, and Payn Fitzjohn, 
 who then held Ewyas, two of the king's secretaries and 
 privy councillors. It was winter, and the lake was 
 covered with water-fowl of various kinds. Seeing them, 
 Milo, partly in joke, said to Grufiydd : " It is an old 
 saying in Wales that if the natural prince of Wales, 
 coming to this lake, command the birds upon it to sing, 
 they will aU immediately sing." Gruffydd replied : " Do 
 you, therefore, who now bear sway in this country, 
 command them first." Both Milo and Payn having 
 made the attempt in vain, Gruffydd dismounted from his 
 horse, fell on his knees with his face to the East, and 
 after devout prayers to God, stood up, and making the 
 sign of the cross on his forehead and face, cried aloud : 
 " Almighty and all-knowing God, Lord Jesus Christ, 
 show forth here to-day Thy power ! If Thou hast 
 made me lineally to descend from the natural princes of 
 Wales, I command these birds in Thy name to declare it." 
 
VOICE OF THE STONE OF DESTINY 323 
 
 Forthwith all the birds, according to their kind, beating 
 the water with outstretched wings, began altogether to 
 sing and proclaim it. No wonder that all who were 
 present were amazed and confounded, and that Milo 
 and Payn reported it to the king, who is said to have 
 taken it philosophically enough. " By the death of 
 Christ ! " (his customary oath), he replied, " it is not so 
 much to be wondered at. For although by our great 
 power we may impose injustice and violence upon those 
 people, yet they are none the less known to have the 
 hereditary right to the country." ^ 
 
 In the same manner, in India snakes are supposed to 
 be specially gifted with the faculty of distinguishing 
 persons of royal race or born to rule.^ One example 
 will be enough. The Gandharbs of Benares, a caste of 
 singers and prostitutes, ascribe their origin to Doman 
 Deo, the second Raghubansi Rajput king of Chandr^vati. 
 He had a groom named Shiru, who one day went into 
 the jungle to cut grass, and fell asleep. While he slept, 
 a cobra raised its hood over his head, and a wagtail kept 
 flying above him. In that condition his master saw 
 him, and afterwards asked him what he would do for 
 him if he became king. Shlru promised to make him 
 his prime minister. Going subsequently to Delhi, the 
 throne of which was vacant, Shlru was chosen emperor, 
 in the manner with which we are already acquainted, 
 by an elephant laying a garland on his neck ; and he 
 redeemed his word by making Doman Deo his wazlr.* 
 In Further India a saga of the Chams relates that Klong 
 Garay, who plays a great part in their legendary history, 
 
 1 Girald. Cambr., Itinerarium Kambrics, 1. i., c. 2. 
 
 2 Crooke, Pop. ReL, ii. 142. 
 
 3 Crooke, Tribes and Castes, ii. 380. Cf. the Legend of Dhatu Sena, 
 King of Ceylon (Tennent, Ceylon, i. 389). 
 
324 RITUAL AND BELIEF 
 
 was found by a companion of his wanderings, after a 
 temporary absence, sleeping and watched by two dragons, 
 which were licking his body. Then he knew, we are 
 told, that Klong Garay was of royal race.-^ The child 
 of a king of Siam by a Naga, or divine snake, being 
 exposed, was found and adopted by a hunter. The 
 king's subjects were compelled by law to work in turn 
 for the king. The hunter, when summoned, took with 
 him his adopted child and laid it in the shadow of the 
 palace, to protect it from the rays of the sun while he 
 performed his task. But the spire of the palace inclined 
 before the child, and the shadow appeared to fly. This 
 prodigy put the king upon enquiry, and he identified 
 his son by means of the ring and mantle which he had 
 given to the lady, and which had been found with the 
 child.^ In the old English metrical romance of Havelok 
 the Dane, the hero is identified by means of a royal 
 mark, " a croiz ful gent," shining brighter than gold on 
 his right shoulder. 
 
 " It sparkede, and ful brith shon. 
 So doth the gode charbucle ston. 
 That men mouthe se by the lith 
 A peni chesen, so was it brith." ^ 
 
 The romance in which the incident is found is a 
 literary version of the local tradition of Grimsby, still 
 commemorated in the seal of the corporation. The 
 poem dates from the end of the thirteenth century. 
 There are two French versions which I have not seen. 
 Professor Skeat has epitomized the longer in the preface 
 to his edition of the English romance. In it a flame 
 issues from Havelok's mouth when he sleeps. This is 
 
 ' A. Landes, Contes TJames, 104. 
 
 ^ Journal of the Indian Archipelago, iii. 571. 
 
 ' Havelok, 11. 602 sqq., 2139 sqq. 
 
VOICE OF THE STONE OF DESTINY 325 
 
 a personal peculiarity, also found in the English lay. 
 His heirship to the throne of Denmark is determined 
 by his ability to blow a horn which none but the true 
 heir could sound. Thus we are brought back to the 
 succession by divination from which we started, and of 
 which the simple diagnosis of royal descent is a corruption 
 and a weakening. It is preserved here, we know not 
 by what cause, after its true meaning had been forgotten. 
 Adopted first of aU into tradition from living custom, 
 when the custom was superseded by other means of 
 determining the succession it survived as a tradition 
 until, its true intent being gradually lost, while the 
 hereditary principle was strengthened and fenced about 
 with sanctity, the incident faded into a merely picturesque 
 presentation, in some places of prophecy, in other places 
 of the claims of birth. 
 
 The study of folk-tales is often despised as mere trifling. 
 But traditional narratives must always occupy an important 
 place in the study of the past. Rightly used they have 
 much to tell us of human history, of human thought and 
 the evolution of human institutions. It may safely be 
 said that of all the incidents that compose them there is 
 none which is not a concrete presentation either of human 
 institutions or of human belief. They are all thus in a 
 sense the outcome of actual human experiences. The 
 stories of election by augury are not wilder than the 
 authentic facts. The telescopic mountain of Karagwe, 
 which Rumanika averred himself to have experienced, 
 is at least as wonderful as the groaning of the Lia Fiil^ 
 or the lighting of a dry twig. Even if we may be allowed 
 to rationalize it in the manner suggested by the ordeal 
 required of the chosen candidate for the throne of the 
 neighbouring Bakerewe, it remains evidence of the belief 
 imposed by the power of imagination in a moment 
 
326 RITUAL AND BELIEF 
 
 of excitement. Analogous performances are averred 
 by the votaries of what is called spiritualism to have 
 been exhibited in our own day by mediums, and were 
 solemnly recorded long ago in the witch-trials of various 
 European countries. In one of the stories I have cited 
 we found the dying monarch laying down among the 
 conditions to be fulfilled by his successor, that the women 
 of the royal household should recognize him. Secret 
 intrigues of the harem are believed to determine the 
 devolution of many an Eastern crown. But that the 
 formal and ceremonial choice of the heir should be made 
 by the wives of the deceased ruler seems too grotesque 
 to be known outside a fairy tale. Yet this was the law 
 a hundred years ago in the kingdom of Quiteve, on 
 the south-eastern coast of Africa. When a king died 
 the queens (that is to say, his legitimate wives) named 
 the person who was to accompany his body to the burial- 
 place, and the person thus named became the successor.^ 
 In an adjoining kingdom a similar law prevailed. It 
 was forbidden to any prince to enter the palace where 
 the women were, or to take possession of the kingdom 
 without their consent, and whoever entered by violence 
 and took possession against their will, lost his right 
 of succession. The Portuguese friar, to whom we are 
 indebted for the information, records a case which 
 happened while he was in Sofala, and in which the claimant 
 would have entered and formally seated himself in the 
 royal hall with the royal widows. They, however, were 
 unwilling to acknowledge him as their king and husband. 
 Accordingly they secretly summoned another member 
 of the royal family, seated him with them in the public 
 
 ' Owen, Narrative, ii. 418, translating a MS., of Sr. Ferao, a Portuguese 
 governor of the coast This translation is reprinted by Theal, Records of 
 South-Eastern Africa, vii. 371 sqq. 
 
VOICE OF THE STONE OF DESTINY 327 
 
 place, and sent officers through the town to proclaim the 
 new sovereign and call his subjects to do homage. The 
 pretender fled. This instance is the more remarkable 
 because the unsuccessful claimant had in his favour the 
 nomination of the previous monarch. Though this 
 constituted not an indefeasible title, it aiForded at least 
 a strong presumption in his favour. Yet it was defeated, 
 in accordance with established and publicly acknowledged 
 custom, by the choice of the harem. 
 
 Nor was the rule requiring the choice, or at any rate 
 the recognition, by the harem so redolent of the comic 
 opera as it may seem, since the women all became the 
 wives of the new king.^ This is usual in Africa, and not 
 in Africa only, but in other regions where a similar type 
 of polygamous monarchical society exists. It is most 
 familiar to us among the ancient Hebrews. Absalom, 
 by taking possession of his father's harem, made a final 
 and unqualified assertion of his succession to the throne. 
 Solomon evidently regarded Adonijah's request for 
 Abishag the Shunammite as a pretension inconsistent with 
 his own sovereignty ; for she had been part of King 
 David's harem, though in fact no more than his nurse.^ 
 In these cases the women had probably little to say in the 
 matter. But by the customs of the South-Eastern Bantu 
 a man's widows, though they are bound to the family of 
 the deceased, are allowed some latitude in the choice of 
 the individual man with whom they will mate. Among 
 the Thonga, for example, at the final distribution of the 
 estate, any of the widows who refuses to take the husband 
 
 1 Theal, Records, vii. 191 sqq. 
 
 2 2 Sam., ch. 16 ; i Kings, ch. 2. There is some reason to think that 
 the same custom obtained among the ancient Teutonic peoples, and even 
 in England. Both this and succession by marrying a daughter are 
 frequent incidents in historical traditions as well as in mdrchen (see 
 Frazer, Magic Art, ii., ch. xviii., and Scapegoat, 368). 
 
32 8 RITUAL AND BELIEF 
 
 to whom she has been provisionally allotted will be 
 permitted to exercise her own preference.^ The power 
 accorded to the widowed queens of Quiteve to choose 
 their new husband was hardly an extension of this liberty. 
 That it drew with it incidentally the right to the kingdom 
 was a consequence which did not afFect the principle. 
 
 1 Junod, S. A. Tribe, i. 199, 206. 
 
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 22 
 
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INDEX 
 
 Abarambos, see Negroes. 
 
 Abyssinia, election of king, Senjero, 
 310; exorcism, Tigre, 211 n. 
 
 ^lian, 161, 171, 174, 267. 
 
 Africa, Myoro death - rite, 271 ; 
 peoples of, obsessed with 
 witchcraft, 47, 158; puberty 
 rites, 277 ; Warundi magic, 92. 
 See Abyssinia, Algeria, An- 
 yanja, A-sande, Atarantes, 
 Awemba, Bafiote, Baganda, 
 Bakwena, Bangala, Bantu, 
 Basuto, Bechuana, Bergda- 
 mara, Boloki, Bushmen, 
 Congo, Egypt, Galla, Herero, 
 Hottentots, Ivory Coast, 
 Masai, Morocco, Nandi, 
 Negroes, Ovambo, Ruanda, 
 Thonga, Wawanga, Zulus. 
 
 Agrippa, Cornelius, 133. 
 
 Ahts, mental capacity, 10. 
 
 Ainu, Kamut, 48 ; mourning garb, 
 236 ; ophiolatry, 5. 
 
 Akamba, see Kikuyu. 
 
 Alexander, Sir J. E., 3. 
 
 Algeria, New Year custom, 84. 
 
 Algonkins, doctrine oiManitou, 37 ; 
 ghost-carrier, 250. 
 
 America, medicine - men, 109 ; 
 mourning customs, Charrua, 
 257, 262, 263 ; mourning garb, 
 Minuanes, 252 ; Salivas, 263 ; 
 puberty taboo, Tsetsaut, 253. 
 
 See Ahts, Algonkins, Ara- 
 paho, Araw4k, Brazilian tribes, 
 Bella Coola, British Columbia, 
 British Guiana, California, 
 Creeks, Dene, Eskimo, Guay- 
 curus, Hispaniola, Hurons, 
 Iroquois, Lengua, Mexico, 
 Navaho, Omaha, Paraguayan 
 Chaco, Pawnee, Pueblo, 
 Tlingit, Virginia, Wichita. 
 
 Andaman Islanders, magician, 113 ; 
 religion, 125 ; taboo, 93. 
 
 Animals, divination by, 302 sqq. ; 
 taboos after killing, 238. 
 See Brazilian tribes. 
 
 Animism, 26. 
 
 Annamite legend, 287 ; doctrine of 
 Tinh, 48. 
 
 Anthony, Saint, 181. 
 
 Anyanja, death - customs, 221 ; 
 puberty rites, 277 ; rain-charm, 
 149. 
 
 Arabian Nights, 301. 
 
 Arabs, belief in Allah, 14 ; in co- 
 habitation with spirits, 203 n. j 
 in Wely, 14. 
 
 Arapaho, mourning garb, 236. 
 
 Arawak, drinking feast, 262 ; 
 legend, 139. 
 
 Armenians, religious prostitution, 
 267, 279, 281. 
 
 Arunta, archaic civilization, 97 ; 
 Churinga, 102; Intichiuma, 
 104 ; medicine-men, 105 ; pu- 
 berty rites, 275 ; religion, 98. 
 See Australian natives. 
 
 A-sande, mourning rites, 257. 
 
 Assyrians, ancient, belief in cohabi- 
 tation with spirits, 203 n. 
 
 Atarantes, cursing the sun, 174. 
 
 Athapascans, see Dene, Navaho. 
 
 Atharaka, see Kikuyu. 
 
 Australian natives, Arungquiltha, 
 77, 83, 92; Baiame, 139; 
 medicme-men, 105 ; Kurdait- 
 cha, yy ; mother, no word 
 equivalent to, 17; mourning 
 garb, 237 ; puberty rites, 275, 
 284; social institutions, 120. 
 
 See Arunta, Euahlayi, Ura- 
 bunna, Warramunga. 
 
 Auziles, marriage custom, 270, 
 274 n. 
 
 346 
 
INDEX 
 
 347 
 
 Awemba, marriage customs, 229. 
 Azimba, puberty rites, 277. 
 
 Babylon, rite at Temple of Mylitta, 
 266 sgq. 
 
 Bafiote, doctrine of Bu-nssi, 45. 
 See Congo. 
 
 Baganda, jumping over woman, 
 225 ; mourning garb, 261. 
 
 Bakhtydr Ndma, 300. 
 
 Bakwena, cursing Morimo, 175. 
 
 Balearic Islands, marriage custom, 
 270. 
 
 Ballads, 202, 205 n. 
 
 Balochi tale, 299. 
 
 Bangala, attitude towards white 
 
 men, 192 ; fear of witchcraft, 
 
 159 ; imprisoning spirit, 187 ; 
 
 mourning garb, 236; rites, 258. 
 
 See Boloki. 
 
 Bantu, child of widow killed, 226 n. ; 
 choice of king, Businza, 310 n. ; 
 masks, Kamerun, 247 ; medi- 
 cine-men, 107 ; mental capacity, 
 13 ; mental categories, 21 ; pu- 
 berty rites, 277 ; reasoning, 13, 
 23 ; reticence, 4. 
 
 See Anyanja, Awemba, 
 Azimba, Bafiote, Baganda, 
 Bakwena, Basuto, Bechuana, 
 Boloki, Congo, Herero, 
 Ovambo, Quiteve, Ruanda, 
 Thonga, Wawanga, Zulus. 
 
 Baronga, see Thonga. 
 
 Basque folk-tale, 162. 
 
 Basuto, rites before war, 60. 
 
 Bavaria, funeral custom, 60. 
 
 Bechuana, cursing Morimo, 175. 
 
 Bella Coola, see British Columbia. 
 
 Bergdamara, reticence, 3 n. 
 
 Boas, Prof. F., 11. 
 
 Bohemian funeral custom, 247. 
 
 Boloki, likundu, 64 ; religion, rites, 
 147 ; witchcraft, 78, 147. 
 See Bangala. 
 
 Borneo, birds of omen and gods, 
 144 ; disguises from spirits, 
 245 ; fighting thunder, 179 n. ; 
 head-hunting rites, 244 ; 
 shaman, no; mourning garb, 
 236, 247. 
 
 Brazilian tribes, chasmg away 
 spirits, 178 ; lower animals, 
 view of, 126; mourning 
 dances, 247. 
 
 Breton folk - tales, 199, 305 ; 
 women's girdles, 58. 
 
 British Columbia, folk -tales, 168, 
 200 ; mourning garb, 243 ; 
 mourning rites, Lillooet, 242 ; 
 Thompson River Indians, pre- 
 cautions against haunting, 218 ; 
 rites after homicide, 242. 
 See Ahts, Lkungen, Tlingit. 
 
 British Guiana, mourning garb, 237. 
 See Arawik. 
 
 Buddhism, 67, 68. 
 
 Buddhist tales, 297, 299, 302. 
 
 Bulgarian belief in cohabitation with 
 ghosts, 204. 
 
 Bull-roarer, 102. 
 
 Burmah, purification of widower, 
 214; vengeance on river, 173. 
 
 Bushmen, 120 ; intimidating light- 
 ning, 177 ; Namib, see Hot- 
 tentots. 
 
 Byblus, religious prostitution, 270. 
 
 Calabria, mourning garb, 251, 252. 
 
 California, Hupa tribe, 83, 253 ; 
 medicine - men, 1 10 ; mental 
 capacity of tribes, 8 ; Salinans, 
 amulet against thunder, 177 ; 
 Seri, organization, 121. 
 
 Calmuck tales, 197, 298. 
 
 Categories, mental, savage and 
 civilized, 20. 
 
 Celts, .(Elian on the, 161, 174. 
 
 Chams, tradition of, 323. 
 
 Charlemagne, 191. 
 
 Charruas, see America. 
 
 Childbirth, women dead in, feared, 
 213. 
 
 China, exorcists' garb, 249 ; tales 
 of cohabitation with the dead, 
 194 ; doctrine of Tsing, 48 ; 
 votive offerings, 29. 
 See Taouism.' 
 
 Chukchi, 63. 
 
 Codrington, bishop, 16, 49, 77. 
 
 Congo, goddess Nzambi, 287 ; 
 medicine-men, Ngombe, 109 ; 
 peoples of, 13; puberty rites, 277 
 n. ; warriors, rites of success- 
 ful, Yaka, 242 ; widows, Loango, 
 212 sqq., 112, ; widows and 
 widowers, Abarambo, 218 n. 
 See Bafiote, Bangala, Boloki. 
 
 Contradictions of savage belief, 7. 
 
 Convergence in rites, 33, 166. 
 
348 
 
 RITUAL AND BELIEF 
 
 Coronation Stone, 290. 
 
 Crawley, Ernest, on puberty rites, 
 284 ; theory of religion, 85 n. 
 
 Creeks, difficulty of expressing 
 religious ideas of, 18. 
 
 Crooke, William, on passages in 
 Homer, 187, 319. 
 
 Cumont, Prof., on religious prosti- 
 tution, 288. 
 
 Curse, power of, 130, 132. 
 
 Custom, power of, 9. 
 
 Cyprus, prostitution of maidens, 
 266, 273, 279, 281. 
 
 Dances, 115, 176; funeral and 
 
 mourning, 247 sqq. 
 Dead, cult of, 148, 175, 189, igo, 
 
 264 ; sexual intercourse with, 
 
 194 sqq., 231. 
 Death taboo, 210, 216 sqq., 221, 
 
 234 sqq. 
 Defixiones,xiyi, 138 n. 
 Demaratus, King of Sparta, 202. 
 Dene, legend, 197 ; mental capacity, 
 
 12 ; rites, 151. 
 See Navaho. 
 Divination, choice of king by, 292, 
 
 sqq. 
 Divorce on ground of haunting, 
 
 209. 
 Doutt6, Prof. E., theory of magic, 
 
 80. 
 Durkheim, Prof. E., definition of 
 
 magic, 76, 78 ; definition of 
 
 religion, 68, 76 ; on origin of 
 
 religion, 121, 133 sqq. 
 Dyaks, see Borneo. 
 
 East Indian Archipelago, marriage 
 custom, 284 ; puberty customs, 
 Serang, 276 ; sexual intercourse 
 with spirits, belief in, 197 ; 
 women dead in childbirth, fear 
 of, 213 n. 
 
 See Borneo, Timor, Timor- 
 laut. 
 
 Eclipses, 179. 
 
 Egypt, ancient, killing sacred 
 animals, 186 ; mourning garb, 
 238 ; Pheros, legend of, 1 73 ; 
 religion and magic, relations 
 of, 134, 141 ; Rhampsinitus, 
 legend of, 172. 
 See Osiris. 
 
 England, succession to kingdom, 
 
 327 n. 
 Eskimo, guardian spirits, 184; 
 
 mourning garb, 252, 257. 
 Euahlayi, 98, 139. 
 Eusebius, value of his testimony, 
 
 271 n. 
 Evil Eye, 64, 78. 
 Ewhe, wedding customs, 211, 227 ; 
 
 widows, protection of, 209, 257 ; 
 
 widows' fast, 262. 
 Exogamy, 288. 
 
 Fans, purification of widow, 214 n. 
 
 Famell, Dr, on punishing god, 181 ; 
 on religious prostitution, 267 n., 
 288. 
 
 Fox Indians, see Algonkins. 
 
 France, mourning garb, 252 ; story 
 of St Merri, 183. 
 
 See Breton, Basque, Nor- 
 mandy. 
 
 Frazer, Dr J. G., definition ot 
 magic, 69, 129; of religion, 67; 
 on Jacob at the Jabbok, 163 ; 
 on killing god, 192 ; on king- 
 ship, 290, 316 ; on mourning 
 clothes, 235, 238, 246, 251, 255 ; 
 on Osiris, 201 ; on religious 
 prostitution, 268, 271, 273, 280. 
 
 Funeral ceremonies, Bohemia, 247 ; 
 Boloki, 148 ; Kamerun, 247 ; 
 Skqomic, 243. 
 See Mourning. 
 
 Galla, returning warriors, 241. 
 
 Gazelle Peninsula, magic ascribed 
 to spirits, 51 n., 140. 
 
 Getai, threatening god, 174. 
 
 Ghosts, laying, 187, 189, 207 ; legal 
 proceedings against, 187 ; not 
 gods, 67. 
 See Dead. 
 
 Gilyak shaman, initiation, 106. 
 
 Gods, accompUces in magic, 144 ; 
 authors of magic, 139 ; anthro- 
 pomorphism, 172 ; binding, 
 186 ; compulsion of, 129, 137, 
 143, 174 sqq., ig2; contest 
 with, 169 sqq. ; insulting, 190. 
 
 Greeks, ancient, binding gods, 187 ; 
 compulsion of gods, 137 ; con- 
 test with gods, 171, 172 ; de- 
 fixiones, 132, 138 n. ; kings, 
 how appointed, 319 ; legends, 
 
INDEX 
 
 349 
 
 286 ; magical texts, 137 n. ; 
 mourning garb, 236 ; offer- 
 ings by women to goddesses, 
 33 ; vague gods, 14 ; virginity, 
 sacrifice of, 282. 
 
 See Demaratus, Odyssey. 
 
 Gregory, Pope, letter to Mellitus, 
 152. 
 
 Guaycurus, attacking storm, 178. 
 
 Gypsies, see Transylvania. 
 
 Harpocrates, 194, 198, 201. 
 
 Havelok the Dane, 324. 
 
 Hebrews, legends, 163, 286 ; magic, 
 
 143, 154 ; mourning, 261, 262 ; 
 
 succession to kingdom, 327 ; 
 
 witchcraft, laws against, 154. 
 Heimskringla, 141, 208. 
 Heliopolis, prostitution of maidens, 
 
 267, 271, 272, 283 n. 
 Herero, disguise, 256 ; taboo on 
 
 killing lion, 239. 
 Hidatsa, rites after killing eagle, 
 
 239. 
 Hispaniola, haunting, 219. 
 Homicide, rites after, 240 sqq. 
 Hottentots, cursing thunder, 176 ; 
 
 dances, 115; marriage customs, 
 
 Namib, 226 ; reticence, 2. 
 Hubert and Mauss, Messrs, criti- 
 cism of Frazer, 70 ; theory of 
 
 magic, 73. 
 Hupa, see California. 
 Hurons, intimidating thunder, 177 ; 
 
 mourners' fast, 262. 
 
 Iban, see Borneo. 
 
 Ibn Khaldoiin, 81. 
 
 Iceland, lawsuit against ghosts, 187; 
 sexual intercourse with ghosts, 
 belief in, 199, 205 ; Swan- 
 maiden stories, 167. 
 
 Ideas, savage, differences of, from 
 ours, 17 sqq. ; vagueness of, 
 7, 20, 29, 38, 40, 44, 61. 
 
 Image, ill using, 181 sqq. 
 
 Incubatio, choice of king by, 295. 
 
 Incubi, 203. 
 
 India, folk-tales, 297, 301, 303, 304 ; 
 Gandharbs, traditions of, 323 ; 
 Hindus, religious ideas of, 87 ; 
 Korwas, vengeance on river, 
 174 ; marriage custom, 285 ; 
 punishing idol, 184; Tippoo 
 
 Sultan, 313 ; widows and wi- 
 dowers, 229 sqq. 
 
 See Kolls, Lushei, Naga, 
 Nayadis, Panjab, Paraiyans, 
 Ramayana, Todas, Uriyas, 
 Zahir Pir. 
 
 Initiation necessary to learn savage 
 religion, 6. 
 
 Inquisition, Holy, 78. 
 
 Ireland, choice of king, 292-296 ; 
 fighting the waves, 161, 174 ; 
 Stone of Destiny, 291 sqq. 
 
 Iroquois, doctrine of or««<^a:, 36, 41, 
 
 43, 92- 
 Ivory Coast, mourning garb, 237, 
 257, 261 ; widows, 210 n. 
 
 Jacob wrestling with the angel, 163, 
 
 171. 
 Japanese legend of origin of magic, 
 
 141 ; Kami, 48 ; Mikado, 316 ; 
 
 rite in tea-house, 185. 
 Jevons, Prof. F. B., definition ot 
 
 religion, 67. 
 
 Kaffir, see Bantu. 
 
 Kaitish, belief in superior being, 
 
 99 ; Churinga, 103. 
 Kamtchadals, widows, 223, 283 n. 
 Karagwe, choice of king, 317, 325. 
 Kathdko^a, 304. 
 Kathd-sarit-Sdgara, 303. 
 Kedda, choice of king, 311. 
 Kickapoo, see Algonkins. 
 Kikuyu, death-customs, 221. 
 King, choice of, 293 sqq. 
 Kinship, savage, 17, 262. 
 Kolben, Peter, 2. 
 Kolls, marriage of widow or widower, 
 
 230. 
 Koreans, reticence, 4. 
 Koryak, shaman, 107 ; talisman of 
 
 mourner, 257. 
 
 Lama, choice of Grand, 313 sqq. 
 Language, difficulties of translating 
 
 native ideas, 16 ; personality 
 
 the basis of, 28. 
 Lengua Indians, reticence, 5. 
 Lenore, Biirger's ballad, 202. 
 Life after death, belief in, 7, 231. 
 Lkungen, death-taboos, 254. 
 Llangorse Lake, 322. 
 Loango, see Congo. 
 Lombards, choice of king, 309. 
 
350 
 
 RITUAL AND BELIEF 
 
 Lots, casting, 309 n. 
 
 Lushei tribes, legend, 141 ; wrest- 
 ling with Huai, 169. 
 
 Lydians, religious prostitution, 267, 
 272, 279, 2S1. 
 
 Madagascar, puberty rites, 278 ; 
 taboo signs, 62, 132. 
 
 Magic, antisocial character, 75, 89, 
 iS7j 159; definitions, 69 sqq., 
 86 ; founded on orenda, po ; 
 opprobrious term, 96j-r-eHgion, 
 did not precede,-! 1 5 ; religion, 
 no essential opposition to, 94, 
 129 sqq., 153; sympathetic, 
 32, 69, 257. 
 
 Magician and priest, relations of, 
 95 sqq. 
 
 See Shaman. 
 
 Malays, fighting bore, 162 ; " get- 
 ting magic," 1 10. 
 
 Mana and orenda, distinction 
 between, 61. 
 
 See Melanesians, Orenda, 
 Polynesians. 
 
 Mang'anja, see Anyanja. 
 
 Manipur, see Naga. 
 
 Manitou, see Algonkins. 
 
 Mannhardt, W., 280, 285. 
 
 Maori, conception of mana, 53 ; 
 sacredness of king, 57. 
 
 Marett, Dr R. R., theory of magic 
 and religion, 81, 91. 
 
 Marillier, L., 6. 
 
 Marriage customs, 266 sqq. 
 
 Masai, mourning garb, 241. 
 
 Masks, 247 sqq. 
 
 Maundeville, Sir John, 308. 
 
 Medicine-man, see Shaman. 
 
 Melanesians, conception of mana, 
 49i 77j 94 ; difficulties of as- 
 certaining belief, 16 ; mourning 
 customs, 260, 261, 263 ; puberty 
 customs. New Ireland, 276 ; 
 taboos, 62 ; tindalo, 77. 
 
 See Gazelle Peninsula, New 
 Guinea. 
 
 Melchizedek, 318. 
 
 Mental capacity of savages, 8, 10 
 sqq., 115; differences between 
 peoples, 8 ; of primitive hu- 
 manity, 28. 
 
 Merlin, 203. 
 
 Merri, St, 183. 
 
 Mexico, Tarahumares, funeral 
 
 feasts, 219 ; Tarascos, punish- 
 ing and rewarding image, 182 ; 
 Tezcatlipuca, ancient god, 57 ; 
 New, illusing image, 182. 
 
 Midas, 171. 
 
 Mongolia, obliteration of sacred 
 figures, loi ; re-birth, 32. 
 
 Monmouthshire, mourning garb, 
 261. 
 
 Monstrous births, 197, 198 sqq. 
 
 Morimo, 175. 
 
 Morocco, compelling saint, 130; 
 folk-tale, 301 ; magic, 153. 
 
 Mourning customs, 209 sqq., 235 
 sqq. ; garb, 235 sqq. 
 
 Musquakie Indians, see Algonkins. 
 
 Mylitta, rite at Temple of, 266 sqq. 
 
 Naga tribes, Xh&xx genna, 138, 238. 
 
 Namaqua, reticence, 3. 
 
 Name, power of, 131. 
 
 Nandi, silencing thunder, 177 ; 
 
 taboos after homicide, etc., 
 
 240. 
 Nasamonians, marriage custom, 
 
 270, 274 n. 
 Navaho, adaptation of foreign rites, 
 
 ISO. 
 Nayadis, abusing god, 191. 
 Neck, water-spirit, 164. 
 Negroes, customs, Ibo, 225 n., 
 
 258 n. ; mental categories, 
 
 22 n. ; mourning garb, 261 ; 
 
 taboos, Abarambo, 240 ; Ibo, 
 
 238 ; treatment of idol, 184 ; 
 
 widows, 209 sqq. 
 
 See Ewhe, Ivory Coast 
 New Guinea, intimidating storm, 
 
 Kai, 178 ; reticence, 5 ; rites 
 
 after homicide, Yabim, 242 n. ; 
 
 widower, 217 ; yam-stone, 51 n. 
 New Zealand, see Maori. 
 Niger, Nigeria, see Negroes. 
 Nootkas, see Ahts. 
 Normandy, folk -tale, 307. 
 Ntlakapamux, see British Columbia. 
 Numa, 170, 320. 
 
 Odin, author of magic, 141. 
 
 See Woden. 
 Odyssey, 319. 
 Omaha, doctrine of Wakonda, 41, 
 
 123; game, 116. 
 Orenda, potentiality inhering in 
 
 every personality, 36, 61, 90, 
 
INDEX 
 
 351 
 
 104, 129, 131, 192, 285 ; under- 
 lies religious and magical be- 
 liefs, 62, 90, 104. 
 See Iroquois. 
 
 Orkney Islands, superstition as to 
 haunting, 204. 
 
 Osiris, as corn, 198, 201 ; begets 
 Harpocrates, 194. 
 
 Ovambo, reticence, 4. 
 
 Palestine, local customs, 9. 
 
 Panjab, cursing saint, 191 ; widows 
 and widowers, 230. 
 
 Papua, see New Guinea. 
 
 Paraguayan Chaco, Incas emigrants 
 from, 178; Indians of, reti- 
 cence, 5. 
 
 Paraiyans, abusing god, 191 ; com- 
 pelling god, 185. 
 
 Pawnee, buffalo rites, 117; initia- 
 tion, no. 
 
 Persia, choice of king, 311. 
 See Bakhtydr Nd.ma. 
 
 Personal and impersonal in primi- 
 tive thought, 28, 34. 
 
 Personality in savage and primitive 
 thought, 28 sqq., 57, 60, 90 ; 
 endowment with qualities, 34. 
 
 Peru, marriage custom, 283 ; spirits 
 original occupants, 178. 
 
 Polynesians, conception of mana, 
 53 ; taboos of, 62, 132. 
 See Maori, Tahiti. 
 
 Popes, etc, election of, 305, 308. 
 
 Poppy-seed, 204. 
 
 Possession by spirits, 107 sqq., 251. 
 
 Prayer and spell, 74, 87. 
 
 Prostitution, religious, 266 sqq. 
 
 Proteus, 167. 
 
 Puberty rites, 253, 266 sqq. ; 
 taboos, 253. 
 
 Pueblo tribes, loi. 
 
 Putiana, see Childbirth. 
 
 Quiteve, choice of king, 326. 
 
 Rain-charms, 148, 149, 150. 
 Ramayana, 131, 183 n. 
 Ravenna, archbishops of, 308. 
 Re-birth, 31. 
 Reinach, Salomon, definition of 
 
 religion, 68 n. 
 Religion, compelling gods, 130 
 
 sqq. ; definitions, 66 sqq., 88 ; 
 
 founded on orenda, 92 ; magic, 
 no essential opposition to, 94 
 sqq., ii<) sqq., 153 ; not pre- 
 ceded by, 90, 115, 119; social 
 phenomenon, 68, 75, 121 sqq. ; 
 vagueness on, 14. 
 
 Restoration to life, 197. 
 
 Reticence on religion, common, i. 
 
 Rhodesia, see Awemba. 
 
 Riddles, 300. 
 
 Ritual, evolution of, 115 sqq., 149 
 sqq. I preceded belief, 119. 
 
 Rocks, rites at, 151. 
 
 Rome, choice of king, 320 ; em- 
 peror, 316; marriage custom, 
 285 ; mourning garb, 236. 
 
 Romulus, 320. 
 
 Ruanda, cult of dead, 264 ; deceiv- 
 ing spirits, 246. 
 
 Ruthenian folk-tale, 204. 
 
 Sauks, see Algonkins. 
 
 Scanderbeg, 59. 
 
 Scandinavia, magic ascribed to 
 Odin, 141. 
 
 See Heimskringla, Iceland, 
 Sweden. 
 
 Scapegoat, 143. 
 
 Scotland, launching fisher-boat, 79 ; 
 mermaid, 169 ; swan - maiden 
 tales, 167 ; taboos of fishermen, 
 246 ; water-kelpie, 164. 
 See Orkney. 
 
 Scott, Sir Walter, 204. 
 
 Scythian tribe, choice of king, 313. 
 
 Shaman, 96 ; initiation of, loj sqq. 
 
 Shape-shifting, 30. 
 
 Shilluk, choice of king, 317 n. 
 
 Siam, recognition of royal blood, 
 
 324- 
 . Siberia, see Chukchi, Gilyak, Kamt- 
 
 chadals, Koryak, Tunguz. 
 Silenus, 171. 
 Sioux, see Omaha. 
 Soul, conception of, 26. 
 Southey, Robert, 87. 
 Sproat, G. M., on the Ahts, lo. 
 Stepping over another, 224 sqq. 
 Stone of Destiny, 290 sqq. 
 Strangers, 282, 285 sqq. 
 Suahili, puberty rites, 277. 
 Succubi, 203 n. 
 Swan-maidens, 167. 
 Sweden, belief in the Neck, 165. 
 Syria, mourning rite, 257. 
 
352 
 
 RITUAL AND BELIEF 
 
 Taboo, 62, 132, 138, 253. 
 
 See AnimaJs, Death, Homi- 
 cide, Mourning, Puberty. 
 
 Tahiti, feathers offered to god, 54, 
 61 ; inauguration of king, 54. 
 
 Tanistry, 294. 
 
 Taouism, choice of arch-abbot, 315. 
 
 Tartar folk-tales, 298, 301, 302. 
 
 Telepathy, 65. 
 
 Teraphim, 155. 
 
 Theocritus, 138 n., 181. 
 
 Thetis, 167. 
 
 Thompson River, see British 
 Columbia. 
 
 Thonga, cult of dead, 108, 190; 
 medicine-men, 108 ; war, rites 
 before, 78 ; widows, 2 1 5, 283, 
 327 ; witchcraft, 78. 
 
 Timor, mourning custom, 255. 
 
 Timorlaut, mourners' amulets, 257. 
 
 Tlingit, or Thlinkit, doctrine of 
 Yek, 44 ; folk-tale, 201 n. ; 
 puberty garb, 253. 
 
 Tonga, see Melanesians. 
 
 Tonkin, mourning garb, 238. 
 
 Torres Straits Islanders, mourning 
 dances, 249 ; puberty taboo, 
 Mabuiag, 253 ; widows, 217. 
 
 Totemism, 124 sqq. 
 
 TraUes, rehgious prostitution, 267 n., 
 
 273- 
 Transylvanian folk - tales, Gypsy, 
 
 198 ; Saxon, 296. 
 Tunguz, shaman, 96. 
 Tylor, Sir Edward, definition of 
 
 religion, 67 ; on tribes without 
 
 religion, I. 
 
 Ukerewe, choice of king, 318. 
 Urabunna, re-birth, 32. 
 Uriyas, mourning garb, 237. 
 
 Veddas, chewing man's liver, 59 ; 
 cult of dead, 125 ; shaman, 112. 
 
 Victoria Nyanza, choice of king 
 among tribes bordering, 310 n., 
 317,318. 
 
 Virginia, initiation ceremony, 19. 
 
 Virginity, sacrifice of, 266 sqq. 
 
 Virgin Mary's zone, 58. 
 
 Votive offerings, 29, 33. 
 
 Wakonda, see Omaha. 
 
 Warramunga, medicine-men, 105 ; 
 mourning garb, 237 ; mutila- 
 tions, 262 ; re-birth, 32 ; Wol- 
 lunqua, 99. 
 
 Wawanga, driving off hail, 177 ; 
 widows' dance, 258 n. 
 
 Wells, rites at, 151. 
 
 Wely, see Arabs. 
 
 Westermarck, Prof., 130, 285. 
 
 Whirlwind, fighting the, 180. 
 
 Wichita, game 115. 
 
 Widow, haunted by dead husband, 
 194 sqq. ; marriage of, 206, 
 209,211, 21^ sqq., 219,221 sqq., 
 226 sqq., 229 sqq., 327 ; mourn- 
 ing dances, 257 sqq. ; treat- 
 ment of, 209 sqq., 254, 262. 
 See Mourning garb. 
 
 Widower, marriage of, 212, 215, 
 219, 228 sqq. ; treatment of, 
 211, 214 n., 215, 217, 218, 228, 
 254. 
 
 Witchcraft in Europe, 74, 79, 1 11, 
 150. 
 
 Woden, 170, 316. 
 See Odin. 
 
 Xerxes, 173. 
 
 Z£hir Pir, 196. 
 
 Zulus, belief in after-life, 7 ; medi- 
 cine - men, 109 ; threatening 
 lightning, 175. 
 
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