142 Lang, Magic and Religion, p. 42. Hoffmann, op. cit. pp. 122, 126, 131.

143 Tylor, op. cit. ii. 342.

144 Proyart, loc. cit. p. 594.

145 Sheane, in Jour. Anthr. Inst. xxxvi. 151.

146 Spieth, Die Ew̔e-Stämme, p. 415.

147 Wilson, Western Africa, p. 210.

148 Ibid. p. 392.

149 Krapf, Travels in Eastern Africa, p. 173.

150 Marker, Die Masai, p. 211.

151 Felkin, ‘Notes on the Madi,’ in Proceed. Roy. Soc. Edinburgh, xii. 334.

152 Livingstone, Missionary Travels, p. 641 sq.

It has often been said that the oath and ordeal involve a belief in the gods as vindicators of truth and justice, that they are “appeals to the moral nature of the Divinity.”153 If this were true, moral retribution would certainly be an exceedingly common function of savage gods. But, as we have noticed before,154 the efficacy ascribed to an oath is originally of a magic character, and if it contains an appeal to a god he is, according to primitive notions, a mere tool in the hand of the person invoking him. So also the ordeal is essentially a magical ceremony. In many cases at least, it contains a curse or an oath which has reference to the guilt or innocence of a suspected person, and the proper object of the ordeal is then to give reality to the imprecation for the purpose of establishing the validity or invalidity of the suspicion.

153 Tiele, Elements of the Science of Religion, i. 86. Réville, Les religions des peuples non-civilisés, i. 103. Brinton, Religions of Primitive Peoples, p. 225. Schneider, Religion der afrikanischen Naturvölker, p. 255. Hodgson, Miscellaneous Essays, i. 126. Dahn, Bausteine, ii. 21, 24. Gummere, Germanic Origins, p. 183.

154 Supra, ii. 118 sqq.

Thus in West Africa the common ordeal which consists in drinking a certain draught or “eating the fetish” is regularly accompanied by an oath or a curse.155 In the Calabar the accused person, before swallowing the ju-ju drink mbiam, which is made of filth and blood, recites an oath beginning with the words, “If I have been guilty of this crime,” and ending with the words, “Then, Mbiam, Thou deal with me!” And whenever this ordeal is used the greatest care is taken that the oath shall be recited in full.156 Of the Negroes of the Gold Coast Bosman states that “if any person is suspected of thievery, and the indictment is not clearly made out, he is obliged to clear himself by drinking the oath-draught, and to use the imprecation, that the Fetiche may kill him if he be guilty of thievery.”157 In Ashantee, “when any one denies a theft, an aggry bead is placed in a small vessel, with some water, the person holding it puts his right foot against the right foot of the accused, who invokes the power of the bead to kill him if he is guilty, and then takes it into his mouth with a little of the water.”158 Among the Negroes of Northern Guinea, in the case of the “red-water ordeal,” the accused “invokes the name of God three times, and imprecates his wrath in case he is guilty of the particular crime laid to his charge.” He then steps forward and drinks freely of the “red water”—that is, a decoction made from the inner bark of a tree of the mimosa family. If it nauseates and makes him vomit freely, he is at once pronounced innocent, whereas, if it causes vertigo and he loses self-control, it is regarded as evidence of guilt.159 According to an old account, the Negroes of Sierra Leone have a “water of cursing,” boiled of barks and herbs. The witch-doctor puts his divining-staff into the pot and drops or presses the water out of it upon the arm or leg of the suspected person, muttering over it these words:—“Is he guilty of this, or hath he done this or that; if yea, then let it scald or burn him, till the very skin come off.” If the person remains unhurt they hold him innocent, and proceed to the trial of another, till the guilty is discovered.160 Among the Wadshagga of Eastern Africa the medicine-man gives to the accused a poisonous draught with the words, “If you fall down, you have committed the crime and told a lie, if you remain standing we recognise that you have spoken the truth.”161

155 See, besides the references below, Monrad, Skildring af Guinea-Kysten, p. 35 sq. (Negroes of Accra); Beecham, Ashantee, p. 215 sqq.; Ratzel, op. cit. iii. 130.

156 Kingsley, Travels in West Africa, p. 465.

157 Bosman, op. cit. p. 125.

158 Bowdich, Mission to Ashantee, p. 267.

159 Wilson, Western Africa, p. 225 sq.

160 Dapper, Africa, p. 405.

161 Volkens, Der Kilimandscharo, p. 249.

Among the Hawaiians, in the ordeal called wai haalulu, “prayer was offered by the priest” while a large dish of water was placed before the culprit, who was required to hold his hands over the fluid; and if it shook, his fate was sealed.162 Among the Tinguianes in the district of El Abra in Luzon, if a man is accused of a crime and denies it, the headman of the village, who is also the judge, causes a handful of straw to be burned in his presence. The accused then holds up an earthern pot and says, “May my belly be changed to a pot like this if I am guilty of the crime of which I am accused.” If he remains unchanged in body, the judge declares him innocent.163 The following ordeal is in use among the Tunguses of Siberia. A fire is made and a scaffold erected near the hut of the accused. A dog’s throat is then cut and the blood received in a vessel. The body is put on the wood of the fire, but in such a position that it does not burn. The accused passes over the fire, and drinks two mouthfuls of the blood, the rest whereof is thrown into the fire; and the body of the dog is placed on the scaffold. Then the accused says:—“As the dog’s blood burns in the fire, so may what I have drunk burn in my body; and as the dog put on the scaffold will be consumed, so may I be consumed at the same time if I be guilty.”164

162 Jarves, History of the Hawaiian Islands, p. 20.

163 Lala, Philippine Islands, p. 100.

164 Hartland, Legend of Perseus, ii. 85 sq.

The “trial of jealousy” mentioned in the Old Testament involved a curse pronounced by the priest to the effect that the holy water which the woman suspected of adultery had to drink should cause her belly to swell and her thigh to rot.165 In India the ordeal was expressly regarded as a form of the oath, the same word, ṣapatha, being used to denote both.166 We have seen above that in the Middle Ages every judicial combat was necessarily preceded by an oath, which essentially decided the issue of the fight and the question of guilt.167 So also at the moment when the hot iron was raised and the accused took it into his hand, the Deity was invoked to manifest the truth.168 The ordeal of the Eucharist involved the following formula recited by the victim:—“Et si aliter est quam dixi et juravi, tunc hoc Domini nostri Jesu Christi corpus non pertranseat gutur meum, sed hæreat in faucibus meis, strangulet me suffocet me ac interficiat me statim in momento.”169

165 Numbers, v. 20 sqq.

166 Jolly, ‘Beiträge zur indischen Rechtsgeschichte,’ in Zeitschr. d. Deutschen Morgenländischen Gesellsch. xliv. 346. Oldenberg, Die Religion des Veda, p. 510, n. 1. See also Patetta, Le ordalie, p. 14.

167 Supra, i. 505.

168 Beames, in his Translation of Glanville, p. 351 sq.

169 Dahn, op. cit. ii. 16.

To the list of ordeals which contain an oath or a curse as their governing element many other instances might probably be added in which no imprecation has been expressly mentioned by our authorities in their short descriptions of the ceremonies. This is all the more likely to be the case as magical practices often imply imprecations which are not formally expressed.170 But there may also be ordeals which have a different origin. Thus the custom of swimming witches seems to have arisen from the notion that everything unholy is repelled by water and unable to sink into its depths;171 and the ordeal of touching the corpse of a murdered person no doubt originated in the belief that the soul of such a person lingered about the body until appeased by the shedding of the murderer’s blood and that “by the murderer’s approach, and especially by his polluted touch, the soul was excited to an instant manifestation of its indignation, by appearing in the form in which it was supposed to subsist, viz. in that of blood.”172 However, even though all ordeals have not the same foundation, it seems highly improbable that any people, in the first instance, resorted to this method of discovering innocence and guilt from a belief in a god who is by his nature a guardian of truth and justice.

170 See, for instance, Westermarck, ‘L-ʿâr, or the Transference of Conditional Curses in Morocco,’ in Anthropological Essays presented to E. B. Tylor, p. 361 sqq.

171 Binsfeldius, Tractatus de confessionibus maleficorum et sagarum, p. 315. In the North-East of Scotland it was believed that, if a person committed suicide by drowning, the body did not sink, but floated on the surface (Gregor, Folk-Lore of the North-East of Scotland, p. 208).

172 Pitcairn, Criminal Trials in Scotland, iii. 187.

Nor must we make any inference as to the moral character of gods from the mere prevalence of a belief in a future world where men are in some way or other punished or rewarded for their conduct during their life. Such a belief is said to be fairly common among uncivilised races;173 and, although in several cases it is undoubtedly due to Christian or other foreign influence,174 I agree with Dr. Steinmetz that we are not entitled to assume that it is so in all.175 It seems that the savage mind may by itself, in various ways, come to the idea of some kind of moral retribution after death. First, the condition of the dead man is often supposed to depend upon the attentions bestowed on him by the survivors. Mr. Turner was told that, in the belief of the St. Augustine Islanders in Polynesia, the souls of the departed “if good” went to a land of brightness and clear weather in the heavens, but “if bad” were sent to mud and darkness; and the answer to his next question informed him that in this case “goodness” meant that the friends of the deceased had given him a good funeral feast, and that “badness” meant that his stingy friends had provided nothing at all.176 Although Mr. Turner sees no moral distinction in these terms, there may be one nevertheless. Speaking of the Efatese, in the New Hebrides, Mr. Macdonald observes:—“A man’s condition in the future would be, to some extent, happy or miserable according to his life here. Supposing he were a worthless fellow, very scanty worship would be rendered to him at his death and few animals slain to accompany him to the spirit world; and thus he would occupy an inferior position there corresponding to his social worthlessness here. This belief,” our informant adds, “has undoubtedly great influence in making men strive to live so as to obtain the good opinion of their fellows, and leave an honourable memory behind them at death.”177 The Bushmans, who maintain that the dead will ultimately go to a land abounding in excellent food, put a spear by the side of a departed friend in order that, when he arises, he may have something to defend himself with and procure a living; but, if they hate the person, they deposit no spear, so that on his resurrection he may either be murdered or starved.178 The dead may also have to suffer from the curses of those whom they injured while alive. At Motlav, in the Banks Islands, relatives “watch the grave of a man whose life was bad, lest some man wronged by him should come at night and beat with a stone upon the grave, cursing him.”179 At Gaua, in the same group, “when a great man died his friends would not make it known, lest those whom he had oppressed should come and spit at him after his death, or govgov him, stand bickering at him with crooked fingers and drawing in the lips, by way of curse.”180 The Maoris were careful to prevent the bones of their dead relatives from falling into the hands of their enemies, “who would dreadfully desecrate and ill-use them, with many bitter jeers and curses.”181 A person may, moreover, himself during his lifetime directly provide for his comfort in the life to come, and if the act by which he does so is apt to call forth approval its result is easily interpreted as its reward. Thus the Kukis of India believe that all enemies whom a person has killed will in his future abode be in attendance on him as slaves;182 and this belief probably accounts for their opinion that nothing more certainly ensures future happiness than destroying a number of enemies.183 We have further to notice the common idea that a person’s character after his death remains more or less as it was during his life. Hence the souls of bad people are supposed to reappear in the shape of obnoxious animals184 or become evil spirits,185 and this may lead to the notion that they have to do so as a punishment for their wickedness.186 And as the revengeful feelings of men likewise are believed to last beyond death, offenders may in the other world have to suffer from the hands of those whom they injured in this.187 Some of the Nagas of Central India maintain that “a murdered man’s soul receives that of his murderer in the spirit world and makes him his slave.”188 The Chippewas think that in the land of the dead “the souls of bad men are haunted by the phantoms of the persons or things they have injured.”189 In Aurora, in the New Hebrides, the belief prevails that the ghosts of those whom a man has wronged in this world take a full revenge upon him after death.190 According to the Banks Islanders, if a person has killed a good man without cause, the good man’s ghost withstands his murderer, when the latter after death wants to enter into Panoi, the good place; but if one man has killed another in fair fight he will not be withstood by the person whom he slew.191 And not only the offended party but the other dead as well may, from dislike or fear, be anxious to refuse the souls of bad people admittance to their company. In the belief of the Pentecost Islanders, when the soul of a murdered man comes to the land of ghosts with the instrument of death upon him, he tells who killed him, and when the murderer arrives the ghostly people will not receive him, but he has to stay apart with other murderers.192 The Iroquois allot separate villages even to the souls of those who have died in war and of those who have committed suicide, because the other dead are afraid of their presence.193 Among the Negroes of Northern Guinea, according to Mr. Wilson, “the only idea of a future state of retribution is implied in the use of a separate burial-place for those who have died ‘by the red-water ordeal’ or who have been guilty of grossly wicked deeds”;194 and if a person’s body is buried apart, his soul will naturally remain equally isolated.195 That the frequent idea of the bad being separated from the good after death is largely due to the assumed unwillingness of the latter to associate with dangerous or disreputable souls, seems probable from the fact that, in the beliefs of the lower races, paradise generally plays a much more prominent part than hell, the lot of the wicked being to suffer want rather than to be subjected to torments.196 But, finally, it must also be remembered that the other world is a creation of men’s fancy, and may therefore be formed in accordance with their hopes and wishes. Beyond the gloom of death they imagine a paradise where life is much happier than here on earth.197 Why, then, might not their moral feelings, only too often ungratified in the reality of the present, occasionally seek satisfaction in the dreams of the future?

173 Thomson, Savage Island, p. 94. Percy Smith, ‘Futuna,’ in Jour. Polynesian Soc. i. 39. Seemann, Viti, p. 400; Williams and Calvert, Fiji, p. 208. Codrington, Melanesians, p. 274 sq. (Banks’ Islanders). Inglis, New Hebrides, p. 31; Turner, Samoa, p. 326 (people of Aneiteum). Campbell, A Year in the New Hebrides, p. 169 (people of Tana). Schwaner, Borneo, i. 183 (natives of the Barito district). Selenka, op. cit. pp. 88, 94, 112 (Dyaks). von Brenner, op. cit. p. 240 (Bataks of Sumatra), de Mas, Informe sobre el estado de las Islas Filipinas, ‘Orijen, &c.’ p. 14. Best, ‘Prehistoric Civilisation in the Philippines,’ in Jour. Polynesian Soc. i. 200 (Tagalo-Bisaya tribes). Worcester, Philippine Islands, p. 110 (Tagbanuas of Palawan). Smeaton, Loyal Karens of Burma, p. 186 sq. Anderson, Mandalay to Momien, p. 146 (Kakhyens). Lewin, Wild Races of South-Eastern India, p. 243 sq. (Pankhos and Bunjogees). Hunter, Rural Bengal, i. 210 (Santals). Macrae, ‘Account of the Kookies,’ in Asiatick Researches, vii. 195; Butler, Travels in Assam, p. 88 (Kukis). Stewart, ‘Notes on Northern Cachar,’ in Jour. Asiatic Soc. Bengal, xxiv. 620 (Old Kukis), 632 (Nagas). Macpherson, Memorials of Service in India, p. 92 sqq. (Kandhs). Thurston, ‘Todas of the Nilgiris,’ in the Madras Government Museum’s Bulletin, i. 166 sq. Breeks, Tribes and Monuments of the Nīlagiris, p. 28 (Todas and Badagas). Radloff, op. cit. p. 11 sq. (Turkish tribes of the Altai). Georgi, Russia, i. 106 (Chuvashes). Cranz, History of Greenland, i. 186. Hall, Arctic Researches among the Esquimaux, p. 571 sq. Lyon, Private Journal, p. 372 sqq. (Eskimo of Igloolik). Boas, ‘Central Eskimo,’ in Ann. Rep. Bur. Ethn. vi. 590. Nelson, ‘Eskimo about Bering Strait,’ ibid. xviii. 423. Douglas, quoted by Petroff, Report on Alaska, p. 177 (Thlinkets). Harrison, ‘Religion and Family among the Haidas,’ in Jour. Anthr. Inst. xxi. 17 sqq. Duncan, quoted by Mayne, Four Years in British Columbia, p. 293 sq. (Coast Indians of British Columbia). Mackenzie, Voyages to the Frozen and Pacific Oceans, p. cxix. (Chippewyans). Morgan, League of the Iroquois, p. 168 sqq. Harmon, Journal of Voyages in the Interior of North America, p. 364 sq. (Indians on the East side of the Rocky Mountains). Keating, op. cit. i. 110 sq. (Potawatomis); ii. 158 sq. (Chippewas). Say, quoted by Dorsey, ‘Siouan Cults,’ in Ann. Rep. Bur. Ethn. xi. 422 (Kansas). Stevenson, ‘Sia,’ ibid. xi. 145 sq. Bartram, in Trans. American Ethn. Soc. iii. pt. i. 27 (Creek and Cherokee Indians). Powers, Tribes of California, pp. 34, 58, 59, 91, 110, 144, 155, 161. Buchanan, North American Indians, p. 235 sqq.; Heriot, Travels through the Canadas, pp. 362, 536; Catlin, North American Indians, i. 156, and ii. 243; Domenech, Great Deserts of North America, ii. 380 (various Indian tribes of North America), von Martius, Beiträge zur Ethnographie Amerika’s, i. 247 (Guatós). von den Steinen, Unter den Naturvölkern Zentral-Brasiliens, p. 435 (Paressi). de Azara, Voyages dans l’Amérique méridionale, ii. 138 (Payaguás). Bosman, op. cit. p. 424 (people of Benin). Wilson, Western Africa, p. 217 (Negroes of Northern Guinea). Reade, Savage Africa, p. 539 (Ibos). Mungo Park, Travels in the Interior of Africa, p. 250 (Mandingoes). Tylor, op. cit. ii. 83 sqq. Marillier, La survivance de l’âme et l’idée de justice chez les peuples non civilisés, p. 33 sqq. Steinmetz, Ethnologische Studien zur ersten Entwicklung der Strafe, ii. 368 sqq.

174 Cf. Tylor, op. cit. ii. 84, 91 sqq.; Marillier, loc. cit. p. 32 sq.

175 Steinmetz, Studien, ii. 366 sqq. Idem, ‘Continuität oder Lohn und Strafe im Jenseits der Wilden,’ in Archiv f. Anthropologie, xxiv. 577 sqq.

176 Turner, Samoa, p. 292 sq.

177 Macdonald, Oceania, p. 209.

178 Campbell, Second Journey in the Interior of South Africa, i. 29.

179 Codrington, op. cit. p. 269.

180 Ibid. p. 269.

181 Colenso, Maori Races, p. 28.

182 Dalton, Ethnology of Bengal, p. 46.

183 Macrae, ‘Account of the Kookies,’ in Asiatick Researches, vii. 195.

184 Hill and Thornton, Aborigines of New South Wales, p. 4. Ratzel, op. cit. i. 317 (Solomon Islanders). Junghuhn, Die Battaländer auf Sumatra, ii. 338 (natives of Bali and Lombok). Cross, quoted by Mac Mahon, Far Cathay and Farther India, p. 203 (Karens). Waitz, Anthropologie der Naturvölker, ii. 419 (Maravi). Southey, History of Brazil, iii. 392 (Guaycurus). Powers, Tribes of California, pp. 144 (Tatu), 155 (Kato Pomo).

185 Bailey, ‘Wild Tribes of the Veddahs,’ in Trans. Ethn. Soc. N.S. ii. 302, n. ‡ (Sinhalese), von den Steinen, Unter den Naturvölkern Zentral-Brasiliens, p. 349 (Bakaïri).

186 See Steinmetz, Studien, ii. 376; Idem, in Archiv für Anthropologie, xxiv. 603 sq.

187 Cf. Marillier, loc. cit. p. 44 sq.

188 Fytche, Burma, i. 354.

189 Keating, op. cit. ii. 158 sq.

190 Codrington, op. cit. p. 279 sq.

191 Ibid. p. 274.

192 Ibid. p. 288.

193 Brebeuf, ‘Relation de ce qui s’est passé dans le pays des Hurons,’ in Relations des Jésuites, 1636, p. 104 sq. Hewitt, ‘The Iroquoian Concept of the Soul,’ in Jour. of American Folk-Lore, viii. 109.

194 Wilson, Western Africa, p. 210.

195 See supra, ii. 236 sqq.

196 This is especially the case among the Indians of North America (cf. Brinton, Myths of the New World, p. 242 sq.; Dorman, op. cit. p. 33; Steinmetz, in Archiv f. Anthrop. xxiv. 591). See also Codrington, op. cit. p. 274 sq. (Banks’ Islanders).

197 Dove, ‘Aborigines of Tasmania.’ in Tasmanian Jour. Natural Science, i. 253. Polack, Manners and Customs (of the New Zealanders, i. 254; Dieffenbach, Travels in New Zealand, ii. 118. Percy Smith, ‘Futuna,’ in Jour. Polynesian Soc. i. 39. Batchelor, Ainu of Japan, p. 225. Steller, op. cit. p. 269 (Kamchadales). Cranz, op. cit. i. 186 (Greenlanders). Robertson, History of America, ii. 202. Arbousset and Daumas, op. cit. p. 343 (Bechuanas).

The belief in a moral retribution after death may thus originate in various ways, quite independently of any notion of a god who acts as a judge of human conduct. When such a belief is said to prevail among a savage people it is by no means the rule that the rewards or punishments are associated with the activity of a divine being. And when, as is sometimes the case, the fate of the dead is supposed to depend upon the will of a high god, the notions held about the other world, and especially about the place reserved for the wicked, in several instances suggest influence from a more advanced religion. But on the other hand it is not an idea which seems incompatible with genuine savage thought that, in cases where the souls of men are believed to go to live with gods, the latter select their companions and, like the human inhabitants of the other world, refuse admittance to undesirable individuals.

Religious ideas have no doubt already at the savage stage begun to influence the moral consciousness even in points which have no direct bearing upon the personal interests of gods; but this influence is not known to have been so great as it has often been represented to be. I can find no solid foundation for the statements made by recent writers, that “the historical beginning of all morality is to be found in religion”;198 that even in the earliest period of human history “religion and morality are necessary correlates of each other”;199 that “all moral commandments originally have the character of religious commandments”;200 that in ancient society “all morality—as morality was then understood—was consecrated and enforced by religious motives and sanctions”;201 that the clan-god was the guardian of the tribal morality.202 From various facts stated in this and earlier chapters I have been led to the conclusion that among uncivilised races the moral ideas relating to men’s conduct towards one another have been much more influenced by the belief in magic forces which may be utilised by man, than by the belief in the free activity of gods.

198 Pfleiderer, Philosophy and Development of Religion, iv. 230.

199 Caird, Evolution of Religion, i. 237.

200 Wundt, Ethik, p. 99.

201 Robertson Smith, Religion of the Semites, p. 267. Cf. ibid. p. 53.

202 Jevons, Introduction to the History of Religion, pp. 112. 177.

 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER LI

GODS AS GUARDIANS OF MORALITY (continued)

 

FROM the gods of savage races we shall now pass to consider the attitudes of more civilised gods towards matters of worldly morality.

The deities of ancient Mexico were generally clothed with terror, and delighted in vengeance and human sacrifices. But there was also the god Quetzalcoatl, generous of gifts, mild and gentle, and so averse from such sacrifices that he shut his ears with both hands when they were mentioned.1 The god Tezcatlipoca, again, was looked upon as the austere guardian of law and morals; but, as Sir E. B. Tylor observes, the remarkable Aztec formulas collected by Sahagun, in which this deity is so prominent a figure, show traces of Christian admixture in their material, as well as of Christian influence in their style.2 It seems that the Mexicans had reached no fixed or systematic conclusions as to the relation of the moral to the religious life.3 They held that departed souls attained different degrees of felicity or of wretchedness according to their different modes of death. Warriors who died on the battle-field or in the hands of the enemy’s priests, and merchants who died on their journey, went to the house of the sun; those who were killed by lightning, who were drowned, or who died from some incurable disease went to a terrestrial paradise; and those who died of old age or any ordinary disease went to a land of darkness and desolation, where they after a time sunk in a sleep which knew no waking.4