{"collection":"scripture-revelation","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_20116/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_20116","id":"gutenberg_20116","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/20116","summary":null,"tags":["Ancestor worship -- Oceania","Anthropology","Australia","Burial","Category: Archaeology & Anthropology","Category: Religion/Spirituality","Funeral rites and ceremonies -- Oceania","Immortality -- Comparative studies","Oceania -- Religion","Oceania -- Social life and customs."],"text":"E-text prepared by Marilynda Fraser-Cunliffe, David King, and the Project\nGutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team (http://www.pgdp.net/) from\npage images generously made available by the Humanities Text Initiative\n(http://www.hti.umich.edu/), a unit of the University of Michigan's\nDigital Library Production Service\n\n\n\nNote: Images of the original pages are available through\n      the Humanities Text Initiative, a unit of the University\n      of Michigan's Digital Library Production Service. See\n      http://www.hti.umich.edu/cgi/t/text/text-idx?c=genpub;idno=AFL0522.0001.001\n\n\n\n\n\nTHE BELIEF IN IMMORTALITY AND THE WORSHIP OF THE DEAD\n\nby\n\nJ. G. FRAZER, D.C.L., LL.D., Litt.D.\n\nFellow of Trinity College, Cambridge\nProfessor of Social Anthropology in the University of Liverpool.\n\nVOL. I\n\nThe Belief Among the Aborigines of Australia, the Torres Straits\nIslands, New Guinea and Melanesia\n\nThe Gifford Lectures, St. Andrews 1911-1912\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nMacMillan and Co., Limited\nSt. Martin's Street, London\n1913\n\n\n    _Itaque unum illud erat insitum priscis illis, quos cascos\n    appellat Ennius, esse in morte sensum neque excessu vitae sic\n    deleri hominem, ut funditus interiret; idque cum multis aliis\n    rebus; tum e pontificio jure et e caerimoniis sepulchrorum\n    intellegi licet, quas maxumis ingeniis praediti nec tanta cura\n    coluissent nec violatas tam inexpiabili religione sanxissent,\n    nisi haereret in corum mentibus mortem non interitum esse omnia\n    tollentem atque delentem, sed quandam quasi migrationem\n    commutationemque vitae._\n\n    Cicero, _Tuscul. Disput._ i. 12.\n\n\n\n\nTO\nMY OLD FRIEND\n\nJOHN SUTHERLAND BLACK, LL.D.\n\nI DEDICATE AFFECTIONATELY\n\nA WORK\n\nWHICH OWES MUCH TO HIS ENCOURAGEMENT\n\n\n\n\nPREFACE\n\n\nThe following lectures were delivered on Lord Gifford's Foundation\nbefore the University of St. Andrews in the early winters of 1911 and\n1912. They are printed nearly as they were spoken, except that a few\npassages, omitted for the sake of brevity in the oral delivery, have\nbeen here restored and a few more added. Further, I have compressed the\ntwo introductory lectures into one, striking out some passages which on\nreflection I judged to be irrelevant or superfluous. The volume\nincorporates twelve lectures on \"The Fear and Worship of the Dead\" which\nI delivered in the Lent and Easter terms of 1911 at Trinity College,\nCambridge, and repeated, with large additions, in my course at St.\nAndrews.\n\nThe theme here broached is a vast one, and I hope to pursue it hereafter\nby describing the belief in immortality and the worship of the dead, as\nthese have been found among the other principal races of the world both\nin ancient and modern times. Of all the many forms which natural\nreligion has assumed none probably has exerted so deep and far-reaching\nan influence on human life as the belief in immortality and the worship\nof the dead; hence an historical survey of this most momentous creed and\nof the practical consequences which have been deduced from it can hardly\nfail to be at once instructive and impressive, whether we regard the\nrecord with complacency as a noble testimony to the aspiring genius of\nman, who claims to outlive the sun and the stars, or whether we view it\nwith pity as a melancholy monument of fruitless labour and barren\ningenuity expended in prying into that great mystery of which fools\nprofess their knowledge and wise men confess their ignorance.\n\nJ. G. FRAZER.\nCambridge,\n_9th February 1913._\n\n\n\n\nCONTENTS\n\n\nDedication\n\nPreface\n\nTable of Contents\n\nLecture I.--Introduction\n\nNatural theology, three modes of handling it, the dogmatic, the\nphilosophical, and the historical, pp. 1 _sq._; the historical method\nfollowed in these lectures, 2 _sq._; questions of the truth and moral\nvalue of religious beliefs irrelevant in an historical enquiry, 3 _sq._;\nneed of studying the religion of primitive man and possibility of doing\nso by means of the comparative method, 5 _sq._; urgent need of\ninvestigating the native religion of savages before it disappears, 6\n_sq._; a portion of savage religion the theme of these lectures, 7\n_sq._; the question of a supernatural revelation dismissed, 8 _sq._;\ntheology and religion, their relations, 9; the term God defined, 9\n_sqq._; monotheism and polytheism, 11; a natural knowledge of God, if it\nexists, only possible through experience, 11 _sq._; the nature of\nexperience, 12 _sq._; two kinds of experience, an inward and an outward,\n13 _sq._; the conception of God reached historically through both kinds\nof experience, 14; inward experience or inspiration, 14 _sq._;\ndeification of living men, 16 _sq._; outward experience as a source of\nthe idea of God, 17; the tendency to seek for causes, 17 _sq._; the\nmeaning of cause, 18 _sq._; the savage explains natural processes by the\nhypothesis of spirits or gods, 19 _sq._; natural processes afterwards\nexplained by hypothetical forces and atoms instead of by hypothetical\nspirits and gods, 20 _sq._; nature in general still commonly explained\nby the hypothesis of a deity, 21 _sq._; God an inferential or\nhypothetical cause, 22 _sq._; the deification of dead men, 23-25; such a\ndeification presupposes the immortality of the human soul or rather its\nsurvival for a longer or shorter time after death, 25 _sq._; the\nconception of human immortality suggested both by inward experience,\nsuch as dreams, and by outward experience, such as the resemblances of\nthe living to the dead, 26-29; the lectures intended to collect evidence\nas to the belief in immortality among certain savage races, 29 _sq._;\nthe method to be descriptive rather than comparative or philosophical,\n30.\n\nLecture II.--The Savage Conception of Death\n\nThe subject of the lectures the belief in immortality and the worship of\nthe dead among certain of the lower races, p. 31; question of the nature\nand origin of death, 31 _sq._; universal interest of the question, 32\n_sq._; the belief in immortality general among mankind, 33; belief of\nmany savages that death is not natural and that they would never die if\ntheir lives were not cut prematurely short by sorcery, 33 _sq._;\nexamples of this belief among the South American Indians, 34 _sqq._;\ndeath sometimes attributed to sorcery and sometimes to demons, practical\nconsequence of this distinction, 37; belief in sorcery as the cause of\ndeath among the Indians of Guiana, 38 _sq._, among the Tinneh Indians of\nNorth America, 39 _sq._, among the aborigines of Australia, 40-47, among\nthe natives of the Torres Straits Islands and New Guinea, 47, among the\nMelanesians, 48, among the Malagasy, 48 _sq._, and among African tribes,\n49-51; effect of such beliefs in thinning the population by causing\nmultitudes to die for the imaginary crime of sorcery, 51-53; some\nsavages attribute certain deaths to other causes than sorcery, 53;\ncorpse dissected to ascertain cause of death, 53 _sq._; the possibility\nof natural death admitted by the Melanesians and the Caffres of South\nAfrica, 54-56; the admission marks an intellectual advance, 56 _sq._;\nthe recognition of ghosts or spirits, apart from sorcery, as a cause of\ndisease and death also marks a step in moral and social progress, 57\n_sq._\n\nLecture III.--Myths of the Origin of Death\n\nBelief of savages in man's natural immortality, p. 59; savage stories of\nthe origin of death, 59 _sq._; four types of such stories:--\n\n(1) _The Story of the Two Messengers_.--Zulu story of the chameleon and\nthe lizard, 60 _sq._; Akamba story of the chameleon and the thrush, 61\n_sq._; Togo story of the dog and the frog, 62 _sq._; Ashantee story of\nthe goat and the sheep, 63 _sq._\n\n(2) _The Story of the Waxing and Waning Moon_.--Hottentot story of the\nmoon, the hare, and death, 65; Masai story of the moon and death, 65\n_sq._; Nandi story of the moon, the dog, and death, 66; Fijian story of\nthe moon, the rat, and death, 67; Caroline, Wotjobaluk, and Cham stories\nof the moon, death, and resurrection, 67; death and resurrection after\nthree days suggested by the reappearance of the new moon after three\ndays, 67 _sq._\n\n(3) _The Story of the Serpent and his Cast Skin_.--New Britain and\nAnnamite story of immortality, the serpent, and death, 69 _sq._; Vuatom\nstory of immortality, the lizard, the serpent, and death, 70; Nias story\nof immortality, the crab, and death, 70; Arawak and Tamanchier stories\nof immortality, the serpent, the lizard, the beetle, and death, 70\n_sq._; Melanesian story of the old woman and her cast skin, 71 _sq._;\nSamoan story of the shellfish, two torches, and death, 72.\n\n(4) _The Story of the Banana_.--Poso story of immortality, the stone,\nthe banana, and death, 72 _sq._; Mentra story of immortality, the\nbanana, and death, 73.\n\nPrimitive philosophy in the stories of the origin of death, 73 _sq._;\nBahnar story of immortality, the tree, and death, 74; rivalry for the\nboon of immortality between men and animals that cast their skins, such\nas serpents and lizards, 74 _sq._; stories of the origin of death told\nby Chingpaws, Australians, Fijians, and Admiralty Islanders, 75-77;\nAfrican and American stories of the fatal bundle or the fatal box, 77\n_sq._; Baganda story how death originated through the imprudence of a\nwoman, 78-81; West African story of Death and the spider, 81-83;\nMelanesian story of Death and the Fool, 83 _sq._\n\nThus according to savages death is not a natural necessity, 84; similar\nview held by some modern biologists, as A. Weismann and A. R. Wallace,\n84-86.\n\nLecture IV.--The Belief in Immortality among the Aborigines of Central\nAustralia\n\nIn tracing the evolution of religious beliefs we must begin with those\nof the lowest savages, p. 87; the aborigines of Australia the lowest\nsavages about whom we possess accurate information, 88; savagery a case\nof retarded development, 88 _sq._; causes which have retarded progress\nin Australia, 89 _sq._; the natives of Central Australia on the whole\nmore primitive than those of the coasts, 90 _sq._; little that can be\ncalled religion among them, 91 _sq._; their theory that the souls of the\ndead survive and are reborn in their descendants, 92 _sq._; places where\nthe souls of the dead await rebirth, and the mode in which they enter\ninto women, 93 _sq._; local totem centres, 94 _sq._; totemism defined,\n95; traditionary origin of the local totem centres (_oknanikilla_) where\nthe souls of the dead assemble, 96; sacred birth-stones or birth-sticks\n(_churinga_) which the souls of ancestors are thought to have dropped at\nthese places, 96-102; elements of a worship of the dead, 102 _sq._;\nmarvellous powers attributed to the remote ancestors of the _alcheringa_\nor dream times, 103 _sq._; the Wollunqua, a mythical water-snake,\nancestor of a totemic clan of the Warramunga tribe, 104-106; religious\ncharacter of the belief in the Wollunqua, 106.\n\nLecture V.--The Belief in Immortality among the Aborigines of Central\nAustralia (_continued_)\n\nBeliefs of the Central Australian aborigines concerning the\nreincarnation of the dead, p. 107; possibility of the development of\nancestor worship, 107 _sq._; ceremonies performed by the Warramunga in\nhonour of the Wollunqua, the mythical ancestor of one of their totem\nclans, 108 _sqq._; union of magic and religion in these ceremonies, 111\n_sq._; ground drawings of the Wollunqua, 112 _sq._; importance of the\nWollunqua in the evolution of religion and art, 113 _sq._; how totemism\nmight develop into polytheism through an intermediate stage of ancestor\nworship, 114 _sq._; all the conspicuous features of the country\nassociated by the Central Australians with the spirits of their\nancestors, 115-118; dramatic ceremonies performed by them to commemorate\nthe deeds of their ancestors, 118 _sq._; examples of these ceremonies,\n119-122; these ceremonies were probably in origin not merely\ncommemorative or historical but magical, being intended to procure a\nsupply of food and other necessaries, 122 _sq._; magical virtue actually\nattributed to these dramatic ceremonies by the Warramunga, who think\nthat by performing them they increase the food supply of the tribe, 123\n_sq._; hence the great importance ascribed by these savages to the due\nperformance of the ancestral dramas, 124; general attitude of the\nCentral Australian aborigines to their dead, and the lines on which, if\nleft to themselves, they might have developed a regular worship of the\ndead, 124-126.\n\nLecture VI.--The Belief in Immortality among the other Aborigines of\nAustralia\n\nEvidence for the belief in reincarnation among the natives of other\nparts of Australia than the centre, p. 127; beliefs of the Queensland\naborigines concerning the nature of the soul and the state of the dead,\n127-131; belief of the Australian aborigines that their dead are\nsometimes reborn in white people, 131-133; belief of the natives of\nSouth-Eastern Australia that their dead are not born again but go away\nto the sky or some distant country, 133 _sq._; beliefs and customs of\nthe Narrinyeri concerning the dead, 134 _sqq._; motives for the\nexcessive grief which they display at the death of their relatives, 135\n_sq._; their pretence of avenging the death of their friends on the\nguilty sorcerer, 136 _sq._; magical virtue ascribed to the hair of the\ndead, 137 _sq._; belief that the dead go to the sky, 138 _sq._;\nappearance of the dead to the living in dreams, 139; savage faith in\ndreams, 139 _sq._; association of the stars with the souls of the dead,\n140; creed of the South-Eastern Australians touching the dead, 141;\ndifference of this creed from that of the Central Australians, 141; this\ndifference probably due in the main to a general advance of culture\nbrought about by more favourable natural conditions in South-Eastern\nAustralia, 141 _sq._; possible influence of European teaching on native\nbeliefs, 142 _sq._; vagueness and inconsistency of native beliefs as to\nthe state of the dead, 143; custom a good test of belief, 143 _sq._;\nburial customs of the Australian aborigines as evidence of their beliefs\nconcerning the state of the dead, 144; their practice of supplying the\ndead with food, water, fire, weapons, and implements, 144-147; motives\nfor the destruction of the property of the dead, 147 _sq._; great\neconomic loss entailed by developed systems of sacrificing to the dead,\n149.\n\nLecture VII.--The Belief in Immortality among the Aborigines of\nAustralia (_concluded_)\n\nHuts erected on graves for the use of the ghosts, pp. 150-152; the\nattentions paid by the Australian aborigines to their dead probably\nspring from fear rather than affection, 152; precautions taken by the\nliving against the dangerous ghosts of the dead, 152 _sq._; cuttings and\nbrandings of the flesh of the living in honour of the dead, 154-158; the\ncustom of allowing the blood of mourners to drip on the corpse or into\nthe grave may be intended to strengthen the dead for a new birth,\n158-162; different ways of disposing of the dead according to the age,\nrank, manner of death, etc., of the deceased, 162 _sq._; some modes of\nburial are intended to prevent the return of the spirit, others are\ndesigned to facilitate it, 163-165; final departure of the ghost\nsupposed to coincide with the disappearance of the flesh from his bones,\n165 _sq._; hence a custom has arisen in many tribes of giving the bones\na second burial or otherwise disposing of them when the flesh is quite\ndecayed, 166; tree-burial followed by earth-burial in some Australian\ntribes, 166-168; general conclusion as to the belief in immortality and\nthe worship of the dead among the Australian aborigines, 168 _sq._\n\nLecture VIII.--The Belief in Immortality among the Natives of the Torres\nStraits Islands\n\nRacial affinities of the Torres Straits Islanders, pp. 170 _sq._; their\nmaterial and social culture, 171 _sq._; no developed worship of the dead\namong them, 172 _sq._; their fear of ghosts, 173-175; home of the dead a\nmythical island in the west, 175 _sq._; elaborate funeral ceremonies of\nthe Torres Straits Islanders characterised by dramatic representations\nof the dead and by the preservation of their skulls, which were\nconsulted as oracles, 176.\n\nFuneral ceremonies of the Western Islanders, 177-180; part played by the\nbrothers-in-law of the deceased at these ceremonies, 177 _sq._; removal\nof the head and preparation of the skull for use in divination, 178\n_sq._; great death-dance performed by masked men who personated the\ndeceased, 179 _sq._\n\nFuneral ceremonies of the Eastern Islanders, 180-188; soul of the dead\ncarried away by a masked actor, 181 _sq._; dramatic performance by\ndisguised men representing ghosts, 182 _sq._; blood and hair of\nrelatives offered to the dead, 183 _sq._; mummification of the corpse,\n184; costume of mourners, 184; cuttings for the dead, 184 _sq._;\ndeath-dance by men personating ghosts, 185-188; preservation of the\nmummy and afterwards of the head or a wax model of it to be used in\ndivination, 188.\n\nImages of the gods perhaps developed out of mummies of the dead, and a\nsacred or even secular drama developed out of funeral dances, 189.\n\nLecture IX.--The Belief in Immortality Among the Natives Of British New\nGuinea\n\nThe two races of New Guinea, the Papuan and the Melanesian, pp. 190\n_sq._; beliefs and customs of the Motu concerning the dead, 192; the\nKoita and their beliefs as to the human soul and the state of the dead,\n193-195; alleged communications with the dead by means of mediums, 195\n_sq._; fear of the dead, especially of a dead wife, 196 _sq._; beliefs\nof the Mafulu concerning the dead, 198; their burial customs, 198 _sq._;\ntheir use of the skulls and bones of the dead at a great festival,\n199-201; worship of the dead among the natives of the Aroma district,\n201 _sq._; the Hood Peninsula, 202 _sq._; beliefs and customs concerning\nthe dead among the natives of the Hood Peninsula, 203-206; seclusion of\nwidows and widowers, 203 _sq._; the ghost-seer, 204 _sq._; application\nof the juices of the dead to the persons of the living, 205; precautions\ntaken by manslayers against the ghosts of their victims, 205 _sq._;\npurification for homicide originally a mode of averting the angry ghost\nof the slain, 206; beliefs and customs concerning the dead among the\nMassim of south-eastern New Guinea, 206-210; Hiyoyoa, the land of the\ndead, 207; purification of mourners by bathing and shaving, 207 _sq._;\nfoods forbidden to mourners, 208 _sq._; fires on the grave, 209; the\nland of the dead, 209 _sq._; names of the dead not mentioned, 210;\nbeliefs and customs concerning the dead among the Papuans of Kiwai,\n211-214; Adiri, the land of the dead, 211-213; appearance of the dead to\nthe living in dreams, 213 _sq._; offerings to the dead, 214; dreams as a\nsource of the belief in immortality, 214.\n\nLecture X.--The Belief in Immortality among the Natives of German New\nGuinea\n\nAndrew Lang, pp. 216 _sq._; review of preceding lectures, 217 _sq._\n\nThe Papuans of Tumleo, their material culture, 218-220; their temples,\n220 _sq._; their bachelors' houses containing the skulls of the dead,\n221; spirits of the dead as the causes of sickness and disease, 222\n_sq._; burial and mourning customs, 223 _sq._; fate of the human soul\nafter death, 224; monuments to the dead, 225; disinterment of the bones,\n225; propitiation of ghosts and spirits, 226; guardian-spirits in the\ntemples, 226 _sq._\n\nThe Monumbo of Potsdam Harbour, 227 _sq._; their beliefs concerning the\nspirits of the dead, 228 _sq._; their fear of ghosts, 229; their\ntreatment of manslayers, 229 _sq._\n\nThe Tamos of Astrolabe Bay, 230; their ideas as to the souls of the\ndead, 231 _sq._; their fear of ghosts, 232 _sqq._; their Secret Society\nand rites of initiation, 233; their preservation of the jawbones of the\ndead, 234 _sq._; their sham fights after a death, 235 _sq._; these\nfights perhaps intended to throw dust in the eyes of the ghost, 236\n_sq._\n\nLecture XI.--The Belief in Immortality among the Natives of German New\nGuinea (_continued_)\n\nThe Papuans of Cape King William, pp. 238 _sq._; their ideas as to\nspirits and the souls of the dead, 239 _sq._; their belief in sorcery as\na cause of death, 240 _sq._; their funeral and mourning customs, 241\n_sq._; the fate of the soul after death, 242.\n\nThe Yabim of Finsch Harbour, their material and artistic culture, 242\n_sq._; their clubhouses for men, 243; their beliefs as to the state of\nthe dead, 244 _sq._; the ghostly ferry, 244 _sq._; transmigration of\nhuman souls into animals, 245; the return of the ghosts, 246; offerings\nto ghosts, 246; ghosts provided with fire, 246 _sq._; ghosts help in the\ncultivation of land, 247 _sq._; burial and mourning customs, 248 _sq._;\ndivination to discover the sorcerer who has caused a death, 249 _sq._;\nbull-roarers, 250; initiation of young men, 250 _sqq._; the rite of\ncircumcision, the novices supposed to be swallowed by a monster, 251\n_sq._; the return of the novices, 253; the essence of the initiatory\nrites seems to be a simulation of death and resurrection, 253 _sqq._;\nthe new birth among the Akikuyu of British East Africa, 254.\n\nLecture XII.--The Belief in Immortality among the Natives of German New\nGuinea (_continued_)\n\nThe Bukaua of Huon Gulf, their means of subsistence and men's\nclubhouses, pp. 256 _sq._; their ideas as to the souls of the dead, 257;\nsickness and death caused by ghosts and sorcerers, 257 _sq._; fear of\nthe ghosts of the slain, 258; prayers to ancestral spirits on behalf of\nthe crops, 259; first-fruits offered to the spirits of the dead, 259;\nburial and mourning customs, 259 _sq._; initiation of young men, novices\nat circumcision supposed to be swallowed and afterwards disgorged by a\nmonster, 260 _sq._\n\nThe Kai, a Papuan tribe of mountaineers inland from Finsch Harbour, 262;\ntheir country, mode of agriculture, and villages, 262 _sq._;\nobservations of a German missionary on their animism, 263 _sq._; the\nessential rationality of the savage, 264-266; the Kai theory of the two\nsorts of human souls, 267 _sq._; death commonly thought to be caused by\nsorcery, 268 _sq._; danger incurred by the sorcerer, 269; many hurts and\nmaladies attributed to the action of ghosts, 269 _sq._; capturing lost\nsouls, 270 _sq._; ghosts extracted from the body of a sick man or\nscraped from his person, 271; extravagant demonstrations of grief at the\ndeath of a sick man, 271-273; hypocritical character of these\ndemonstrations, which are intended to deceive the ghost, 273; burial and\nmourning customs, preservation of the lower jawbone and one of the lower\narm bones, 274; mourning costume, seclusion of widow or widower, 274\n_sq._; widows sometimes strangled to accompany their dead husbands, 275;\nhouse or village deserted after a death, 275.\n\nLecture XIII.--The Belief in Immortality among the Natives of German New\nGuinea (_continued_)\n\nThe Kai (continued), their offerings to the dead, p. 276; divination by\nmeans of ghosts to detect the sorcerer who has caused a death, 276-278;\navenging the death on the sorcerer and his people, 278 _sq._;\nprecautions against the ghosts of the slain, 279 _sq._; attempts to\ndeceive the ghosts of the murdered, 280-282; pretence of avenging the\nghost of a murdered man, 282; fear of ghosts by night, 282 _sq._;\nservices rendered by the spirits of the dead to farmers and hunters,\n283-285; the journey of the soul to the spirit land, 285 _sq._; life of\nthe dead in the other world, 286 _sq._; ghosts die the second death and\nturn into animals, 287; ghosts of famous people invoked long after their\ndeath, 287-289; possible development of ghosts into gods, 289 _sq._;\nlads at circumcision supposed to be swallowed and disgorged by a\nmonster, 290 _sq._\n\nThe Tami Islanders of Huon Gulf, 291; their theory of a double human\nsoul, a long one and a short one, 291 _sq._; departure of the short soul\nfor Lamboam, the nether world of the dead, 292; offerings to the dead,\n292; appeasing the ghost, 292 _sq._; funeral and mourning customs,\ndances in honour of the dead, offerings thrown into the fire, 293 _sq._;\nbones of the dead dug up and kept in the house for a time, 294 _sq._\n\nLecture XIV.--The Belief in Immortality among the Natives of German and\nDutch New Guinea\n\nThe Tami Islanders of Huon Gulf (continued), their doctrine of souls and\ngods, pp. 296 _sq._; dances of masked men representing spirits, 297;\nworship of ancestral spirits and offerings to them, 297 _sq._; life of\nthe souls in Lamboam, the nether world, 299 _sq._; evocation of ghosts\nby the ghost-seer, 300; sickness caused by ghosts, 300 _sq._; novices at\ncircumcision supposed to be swallowed and disgorged by a monster, 301\n_sq._; meaning of the bodily mutilations inflicted on young men at\npuberty obscure, 302 _sq._ The natives of Dutch New Guinea, 303-323; the\nNoofoors of Geelvink Bay, their material culture and arts of life,\n303-305; their fear and worship of the dead, 305-307; wooden images\n(_korwar_) of the dead kept in the houses and carried in canoes to be\nused as oracles, 307 _sq._; the images consulted in sickness and taken\nwith the people to war, 308-310; offerings to the images, 310 _sq._;\nsouls of those who have died away from home recalled to animate the\nimages, 311; skulls of the dead, especially of firstborn children and of\nparents, inserted in the images, 312 _sq._; bodies of young children\nhung on trees, 312 _sq._; mummies of dead relatives kept in the houses,\n313; seclusion of mourners and restrictions on their diet, 313 _sq._;\ntattooing in honour of the dead, 314; teeth and hair of the dead worn by\nrelatives, 314 _sq._; rebirth of parents in their children, 315.\n\nThe natives of islands off the west coast of New Guinea, their wooden\nimages of dead ancestors and shrines for the residence of the ancestral\nspirits, 315 _sq._; their festivals in honour of the dead, 316; souls of\nancestors supposed to reside in the images and to protect the house and\nhousehold, 317.\n\nThe natives of the Macluer Gulf, their images and bowls in honour of the\ndead, 317 _sq._\n\nThe natives of the Mimika district, their burial and mourning customs,\ntheir preservation of the skulls of the dead, and their belief in\nghosts, 318.\n\nThe natives of Windessi, their burial customs, 318 _sq._; divination\nafter a death, 319; mourning customs, 319 _sq._; festival of the dead,\n320 _sq._; wooden images of the dead, 321; doctrine of souls and of\ntheir fate after death, 321 _sq._; medicine-men inspired by the souls of\nthe dead, 322 _sq._; ghosts of slain enemies driven away, 323.\n\nLecture XV.--The Belief in Immortality among the Natives of Southern\nMelanesia (New Caledonia)\n\nThe Melanesians in general, their material culture, p. 324; Southern\nMelanesia, the New Caledonians, and Father Lambert's account of them,\n325; their ideas as to the spirit land and the way thither, 325 _sq._;\nburial customs, 326; cuttings and brandings for the dead, 326 _sq._;\nproperty of the dead destroyed, 327; seclusion of gravediggers and\nrestrictions imposed on them, 327; sham fight in honour of the dead, 327\n_sq._; skulls of the dead preserved and worshipped on various occasions,\nsuch as sickness, fishing, and famine, 328-330; caves used as\ncharnel-houses and sanctuaries of the dead in the Isle of Pines,\n330-332; prayers and sacrifices to the ancestral spirits, 332 _sq._;\nprayer-posts, 333 _sq._; sacred stones associated with the dead and used\nto cause dearth or plenty, madness, a good crop of bread-fruit or yams,\ndrought, rain, a good catch of fish, and so on, 334-338; the religion of\nthe New Caledonians mainly a worship of the dead tinctured with magic,\n338.\n\nEvidence as to the natives of New Caledonia collected by Dr. George\nTurner, 339-342; material culture of the New Caledonians, 339; their\nburial customs, the skulls and nails of the dead preserved and used to\nfertilise the yam plantations, 339 _sq._; worship of ancestors and\nprayers to the dead, 340; festivals in honour of the dead, 340 _sq._;\nmaking rain by means of the skeletons of the dead, 341; execution of\nsorcerers, 341 _sq._; white men identified with the spirits of the dead,\n342.\n\nLecture XVI.--The Belief in Immortality among the Natives of Central\nMelanesia\n\nCentral Melanesia divided into two archipelagoes, the religion of the\nWestern Islands (Solomon Islands) characterised by a worship of the\ndead, the religion of the Eastern Islands (New Hebrides, Banks' Islands,\nTorres Islands, Santa Cruz Islands) characterised by a worship of\nnon-human spirits, pp. 343 _sq._; Central Melanesian theory of the soul,\n344 _sq._; the land of the dead either in certain islands or in a\nsubterranean region called Panoi, 345; ghosts of power and ghosts of no\naccount, 345 _sq._; supernatural power (_mana_) acquired through ghosts,\n346 _sq._\n\nBurial customs in the Western Islands (Solomon Islands), 347 _sqq._;\nland-burial and sea-burial, land-ghosts and sea-ghosts, 347 _sq._;\nfuneral feasts and burnt-offerings to the dead, 348 _sq._; the land of\nthe dead and the ghostly ferry, 350 _sq._; ghosts die the second death\nand turn into the nests of white ants, 350 _sq._; preservation of the\nskull and jawbone in order to ensure the protection of the ghost, 351\n_sq._; human heads sought in order to add fresh spiritual power (_mana_)\nto the ghost of a dead chief, 352.\n\nBeliefs and customs concerning the dead in the Eastern Islands (New\nHebrides, Banks' Islands, Torres Islands), 352 _sqq._; Panoi, the\nsubterranean abode of the dead, 353 _sq._; ghosts die the second death,\n354; different fates of the souls of the good and bad, 354 _sq._;\ndescent of the living into the world of the dead, 355; burial customs of\nthe Banks' Islanders, 355 _sqq._; dead sometimes temporarily buried in\nthe house, 355; display of property beside the corpse and funeral\noration, 355 _sq._; sham burial of eminent men, 356; ghosts driven away\nfrom the village, 356-358; deceiving the ghosts of women who have died\nin child-bed, 358; funeral feasts, 358 _sq._; funeral customs in the\nNew Hebrides, 359 _sqq._; the aged buried alive, 359 _sq._; seclusion of\nmourners and restrictions on their diet, 360; sacrifice of pigs, 360\n_sq._; the journey of the ghost to the spirit land, 361 _sq._;\nprovisions made by the living for the welfare of the dead, 362.\n\nOnly ghosts of powerful men worshipped, 362 _sq._; institution of the\nworship of a martial ghost, 363 _sq._; offerings of food and drink to\nthe dead, 364 _sq._; sacrifice of pigs to ghosts in the Solomon Islands,\n365 _sq._\n\nLecture XVII.--The Belief in Immortality among the Natives of Central\nMelanesia (_concluded_)\n\nPublic sacrifices to ghosts in the Solomon Islands, pp. 367 _sq._;\noffering of first-fruits to ghosts, 368 _sq._; private ghosts as\ndistinguished from public ghosts, 369 _sq._; fighting ghosts kept as\nspiritual auxiliaries, 370; ghosts employed to make the gardens grow,\n370 _sq._; human sacrifices to ghosts, 371 _sq._; vicarious and other\nsacrifices to ghosts at Saa in Malanta, 372 _sq._; offerings of\nfirst-fruits to ghosts at Saa, 373 _sq._; vicarious sacrifices offered\nfor the sick to ghosts in Santa Cruz, 374; the dead represented by\nstocks in the houses, 374; native account of sacrifices in Santa Cruz,\n374 _sq._; prayers to the dead, 376 _sq._; sanctuaries of ghosts in the\nSolomon Islands, 377-379; ghosts lodged in animals, birds, and fish,\nespecially in sharks, 379 _sq._\n\nThe belief in ghosts underlies the Melanesian conception of magic, 380\n_sq._; sickness commonly caused by ghosts and cured by ghost-seers,\n381-384; contrast between Melanesian and European systems of medicine,\n384; weather regulated by ghosts and spirits and by weather-doctors who\nhave the ear of ghosts and spirits, 384-386; witchcraft or black magic\nwrought by means of ghosts, 386-388; prophets inspired by ghosts, 388\n_sq._; divination operating through ghosts, 389 _sq._; taboos enforced\nby ghosts, 390 _sq._; general influence which a belief in the survival\nof the soul after death has exercised on Melanesian life, 391 _sq._\n\nLecture XVIII.--The Belief in Immortality among the Natives of Northern\nand Eastern Melanesia\n\nThe natives of Northern Melanesia or the Bismarck Archipelago (New\nBritain, New Ireland, etc.), their material culture, commercial habits,\nand want of regular government, pp. 393-395; their theory of the soul,\n395 _sq._; their fear of ghosts, 396; offerings to the dead, 396 _sq._;\nburial customs, 397 _sq._; preservation of the skulls, 398; customs and\nbeliefs concerning the dead among the Sulka of New Britain, 398-400,\namong the Moanus of the Admiralty Islands, 400 _sq._ and among the\nnatives of the Kaniet Islands, 401 _sq._; natural deaths commonly\nattributed to sorcery, 402; divination to discover the sorcerer who\ncaused the death, 402; death customs in the Duke of York Island, cursing\nthe sorcerer, skulls preserved, feasts and dances, 403; prayers to the\ndead, 403 _sq._; the land of the dead and the fate of the departed\nsouls, hard lot of impecunious ghosts, 404-406.\n\nThe natives of Eastern Melanesia (Fiji), their material culture and\npolitical constitution, 406-408; means of subsistence, 408; moral\ncharacter, 408 _sq._; scenery of the Fijian islands, 409 _sq._; the\nFijian doctrine of souls, 410-412; souls of rascals caught in scarves,\n412 _sq._; fear of sorcery and precautions against it, 413 _sq._;\nbeneficial effect of the fear in enforcing habits of personal\ncleanliness, 414; fear of ghosts and custom of driving them away, 414\n_sq._; killing a ghost, 415 _sq._; outwitting grandfather's ghost, 416;\nspecial relation of grandfather to grandchild, 416; grandfather's soul\nreborn in his grandchild, 417 _sq._\n\nLecture XIX.--The Belief in Immortality among the Natives of Eastern\nMelanesia (Fiji) (_continued_)\n\nIndifference of the Fijians to death, p. 419; their custom of killing\nthe sick and aged with the consent of the victims, 419-424; their\nreadiness to die partly an effect of their belief in immortality, 422\n_sq._; wives strangled or buried alive to accompany their husbands to\nthe spirit land, 424-426; servants and dependants killed to attend their\ndead lords, 426; sacrifices of foreskins and fingers in honour of dead\nchiefs, 426 _sq._; boys circumcised in order to save the lives of their\nfathers or fathers' brothers, 427; saturnalia attending such rites of\ncircumcision, 427 _sq._; the _Nanga_, or sacred enclosure of stones,\ndedicated to the worship of ancestors, 428 _sq._; first-fruits of the\nyams offered to the ancestors in the _Nanga_, 429; initiation of young\nmen in the _Nanga_, drama of death and resurrection, sacrament of food\nand water, 429-432; the initiation followed by a period of sexual\nlicence, 433; the initiatory rites apparently intended to introduce the\nnovices to the ancestral spirits and endow them with the powers of the\ndead, 434 _sq._; the rites seem to have been imported into Fiji by\nimmigrants from the west, 435 _sq._; the licence attending these rites\nperhaps a reversion to primitive communism for the purpose of\npropitiating the ancestral spirits, 436 _sq._; description of the\n_Nanga_ or sacred enclosure of stones, 437 _sq._; comparison with the\ncromlechs and other megalithic monuments of Europe, 438.\n\nLecture XX.--The Belief in Immortality among the Natives of Eastern\nMelanesia (Fiji) (_concluded_)\n\nWorship of parents and other dead relations in Fiji, pp. 439 _sq._;\nFijian notion of divinity (_kalou_), 440; two classes of gods, namely,\ndivine gods and human gods or deified men, 440 _sq._; temples (_bures_)\n441 _sq._; worship at the temples, 443; priests (_betes_), their\noracular inspiration by the gods, 443-446; human sacrifices on various\noccasions, such as building a house or launching a new canoe, 446 _sq._;\nhigh estimation in which manslaughter was held by the Fijians, 447\n_sq._; consecration of manslayers and restrictions laid on them,\nprobably from fear of the ghosts of their victims, 448 _sq._; certain\nfuneral customs based apparently on the fear of ghosts, 450 _sqq._;\npersons who have handled a corpse forbidden to touch food with their\nhands, 450 _sq._; seclusion of gravediggers, 451; mutilations,\nbrandings, and fasts in honour of the dead, 451 _sq._; the dead carried\nout of the house by a special opening to prevent the return of the\nghost, 452-461; the other world and the way thither, 462 _sqq._; the\nghostly ferry, 462 _sq._; the ghost and the pandanus tree, 463 _sq._;\nhard fate of the unmarried dead, 464; the Killer of Souls, 464 _sq._;\nghosts precipitated into a lake, 465 _sq._; Murimuria, an inferior sort\nof heaven, 466; the Fijian Elysium, 466 _sq._; transmigration and\nannihilation, the few that are saved, 467.\n\nConcluding observations, 467-471; strength and universality of the\nbelief in immortality among savages, 468; the state of war among savage\nand civilised peoples often a direct consequence of the belief in\nimmortality, 468 _sq._; economic loss involved in sacrifices to the\ndead, 469; how does the savage belief in immortality bear on the truth\nor falsehood of that belief in general? 469; the answer depends to some\nextent on the view we take of human nature, 469-471; the conclusion left\nopen, 471.\n\nNote.--Myth of the Continuance of Death\n\nIndex\n\n\n\n\nLECTURE I\n\nINTRODUCTION\n\n\n[Sidenote: Natural theology, and the three modes of handling it, the\ndogmatic, the philosophical, and the historical.]\n\nThe subject of these lectures is a branch of natural theology. By\nnatural theology I understand that reasoned knowledge of a God or gods\nwhich man may be supposed, whether rightly or wrongly, capable of\nattaining to by the exercise of his natural faculties alone. Thus\ndefined, the subject may be treated in at least three different ways,\nnamely, dogmatically, philosophically, and historically. We may simply\nstate the dogmas of natural theology which appear to us to be true: that\nis the dogmatic method. Or, secondly, we may examine the validity of the\ngrounds on which these dogmas have been or may be maintained: that is\nthe philosophic method. Or, thirdly, we may content ourselves with\ndescribing the various views which have been held on the subject and\ntracing their origin and evolution in history: that is the historical\nmethod. The first of these three methods assumes the truth of natural\ntheology, the second discusses it, and the third neither assumes nor\ndiscusses but simply ignores it: the historian as such is not concerned\nwith the truth or falsehood of the beliefs he describes, his business is\nmerely to record them and to track them as far as possible to their\nsources. Now that the subject of natural theology is ripe for a purely\ndogmatic treatment will hardly, I think, be maintained by any one, to\nwhatever school of thought he may belong; accordingly that method of\ntreatment need not occupy us further. Far otherwise is it with the\nphilosophic method which undertakes to enquire into the truth or\nfalsehood of the belief in a God: no method could be more appropriate at\na time like the present, when the opinions of educated and thoughtful\nmen on that profound topic are so unsettled, diverse, and conflicting. A\nphilosophical treatment of the subject might comprise a discussion of\nsuch questions as whether a natural knowledge of God is possible to man,\nand, if possible, by what means and through what faculties it is\nattainable; what are the grounds for believing in the existence of a\nGod; and, if this belief is justified, what may be supposed to be his\nessential nature and attributes, and what his relations to the world in\ngeneral and to man in particular. Now I desire to confess at once that\nan adequate discussion of these and kindred questions would far exceed\nboth my capacity and my knowledge; for he who would do justice to so\narduous an enquiry should not only be endowed with a comprehensive and\npenetrating genius, but should possess a wide and accurate acquaintance\nwith the best accredited results of philosophic speculation and\nscientific research. To such qualifications I can lay no claim, and\naccordingly I must regard myself as unfitted for a purely philosophic\ntreatment of natural theology. To speak plainly, the question of the\nexistence of a God is too deep for me. I dare neither affirm nor deny\nit. I can only humbly confess my ignorance. Accordingly, if Lord Gifford\nhad required of his lecturers either a dogmatic or a philosophical\ntreatment of natural theology, I could not have undertaken to deliver\nthe lectures.\n\n[Sidenote: The method followed in these lectures is the historical.]\n\nBut in his deed of foundation, as I understand it, Lord Gifford left his\nlecturers free to follow the historical rather than the dogmatic or the\nphilosophical method of treatment. He says: \"The lecturers shall be\nunder no restraint whatever in their treatment of their theme: for\nexample, they may freely discuss (and it may be well to do so) all\nquestions about man's conceptions of God or the Infinite, their origin,\nnature, and truth.\" In making this provision the founder appears to have\nallowed and indeed encouraged the lecturers not only to discuss, if they\nchose to do so, the philosophical basis of a belief in God, but also to\nset forth the various conceptions of the divine nature which have been\nheld by men in all ages and to trace them to their origin: in short, he\npermitted and encouraged the lecturers to compose a history of natural\ntheology or of some part of it. Even when it is thus limited to its\nhistorical aspect the theme is too vast to be mastered completely by any\none man: the most that a single enquirer can do is to take a general but\nnecessarily superficial survey of the whole and to devote himself\nespecially to the investigation of some particular branch or aspect of\nthe subject. This I have done more or less for many years, and\naccordingly I think that without being presumptuous I may attempt, in\ncompliance with Lord Gifford's wishes and directions, to lay before my\nhearers a portion of the history of religion to which I have paid\nparticular attention. That the historical study of religious beliefs,\nquite apart from the question of their truth or falsehood, is both\ninteresting and instructive will hardly be disputed by any intelligent\nand thoughtful enquirer. Whether they have been well or ill founded,\nthese beliefs have deeply influenced the conduct of human affairs; they\nhave furnished some of the most powerful, persistent, and far-reaching\nmotives of action; they have transformed nations and altered the face of\nthe globe. No one who would understand the general history of mankind\ncan afford to ignore the annals of religion. If he does so, he will\ninevitably fall into the most serious misconceptions even in studying\nbranches of human activity which might seem, on a superficial view, to\nbe quite unaffected by religious considerations.\n\n[Sidenote: An historical enquiry into the evolution of religion\nprejudices neither the question of the ethical value of religious\npractice nor the question of the truth or falsehood of religious\nbelief.]\n\nTherefore to trace theological and in general religious ideas to their\nsources and to follow them through all the manifold influences which\nthey have exerted on the destinies of our race must always be an object\nof prime importance to the historian, whatever view he may take of their\nspeculative truth or ethical value. Clearly we cannot estimate their\nethical value until we have learned the modes in which they have\nactually determined human conduct for good or evil: in other words, we\ncannot judge of the morality of religious beliefs until we have\nascertained their history: the facts must be known before judgment can\nbe passed on them: the work of the historian must precede the work of\nthe moralist. Even the question of the validity or truth of religious\ncreeds cannot, perhaps, be wholly dissociated from the question of their\norigin. If, for example, we discover that doctrines which we had\naccepted with implicit faith from tradition have their close analogies\nin the barbarous superstitions of ignorant savages, we can hardly help\nsuspecting that our own cherished doctrines may have originated in the\nsimilar superstitions of our rude forefathers; and the suspicion\ninevitably shakes the confidence with which we had hitherto regarded\nthese articles of our faith. The doubt thus cast on our old creed is\nperhaps illogical, since even if we should discover that the creed did\noriginate in mere superstition, in other words, that the grounds on\nwhich it was first adopted were false and absurd, this discovery would\nnot really disprove the beliefs themselves, for it is perfectly possible\nthat a belief may be true, though the reasons alleged in favour of it\nare false and absurd: indeed we may affirm with great probability that a\nmultitude of human beliefs, true in themselves, have been accepted and\ndefended by millions of people on grounds which cannot bear exact\ninvestigation for a moment. For example, if the facts of savage life\nwhich it will be my duty to submit to you should have the effect of\nmaking the belief in immortality look exceedingly foolish, those of my\nhearers who cherish the belief may console themselves by reflecting\nthat, as I have just pointed out, a creed is not necessarily false\nbecause some of the reasons adduced in its favour are invalid, because\nit has sometimes been supported by the despicable tricks of vulgar\nimposture, and because the practices to which it has given rise have\noften been in the highest degree not only absurd but pernicious.\n\n[Sidenote: Yet such an enquiry may shake the confidence with which\ntraditional beliefs have been held.]\n\nThus an historical enquiry into the origin of religious creeds cannot,\nstrictly speaking, invalidate, still less refute, the creeds themselves,\nthough it may, and doubtless often does weaken the confidence with which\nthey are held. This weakening of religious faith as a consequence of a\ncloser scrutiny of religious origins is unquestionably a matter of great\nimportance to the community; for society has been built and cemented to\na great extent on a foundation of religion, and it is impossible to\nloosen the cement and shake the foundation without endangering the\nsuperstructure. The candid historian of religion will not dissemble the\ndanger incidental to his enquiries, but nevertheless it is his duty to\nprosecute them unflinchingly. Come what may, he must ascertain the facts\nso far as it is possible to do so; having done that, he may leave to\nothers the onerous and delicate task of adjusting the new knowledge to\nthe practical needs of mankind. The narrow way of truth may often look\ndark and threatening, and the wayfarer may often be weary; yet even at\nthe darkest and the weariest he will go forward in the trust, if not in\nthe knowledge, that the way will lead at last to light and to rest; in\nplain words, that there is no ultimate incompatibility between the good\nand the true.\n\n[Sidenote: To discover the origin of the idea of God we must study the\nbeliefs of primitive man.]\n\nNow if we are indeed to discover the origin of man's conception of God,\nit is not sufficient to analyse the ideas which the educated and\nenlightened portion of mankind entertain on the subject at the present\nday; for in great measure these ideas are traditional, they have been\nhanded down with little or no independent reflection or enquiry from\ngeneration to generation; hence in order to detect them in their\ninception it becomes necessary to push our analysis far back into the\npast. Large materials for such an historical enquiry are provided for us\nin the literature of ancient nations which, though often sadly mutilated\nand imperfect, has survived to modern times and throws much precious\nlight on the religious beliefs and practices of the peoples who created\nit. But the ancients themselves inherited a great part of their religion\nfrom their prehistoric ancestors, and accordingly it becomes desirable\nto investigate the religious notions of these remote forefathers of\nmankind, since in them we may hope at last to arrive at the ultimate\nsource, the historical origin, of the whole long development.\n\n[Sidenote: The beliefs of primitive man can only be understood through a\ncomparative study of the various races in the lower stages of culture.]\n\nBut how can this be done? how can we investigate the ideas of peoples\nwho, ignorant of writing, had no means of permanently recording their\nbeliefs? At first sight the thing seems impossible; the thread of\nenquiry is broken off short; it has landed us on the brink of a gulf\nwhich looks impassable. But the case is not so hopeless as it appears.\nTrue, we cannot investigate the beliefs of prehistoric ages directly,\nbut the comparative method of research may furnish us with the means of\nstudying them indirectly; it may hold up to us a mirror in which, if we\ndo not see the originals, we may perhaps contemplate their reflections.\nFor a comparative study of the various races of mankind demonstrates, or\nat least renders it highly probable, that humanity has everywhere\nstarted at an exceedingly low level of culture, a level far beneath that\nof the lowest existing savages, and that from this humble beginning all\nthe various races of men have gradually progressed upward at different\nrates, some faster and some slower, till they have attained the\nparticular stage which each of them occupies at the present time.\n\n[Sidenote: Hence the need of studying the beliefs and customs of\nsavages, if we are to understand the evolution of culture in general.]\n\nIf this conclusion is correct, the various stages of savagery and\nbarbarism on which many tribes and peoples now stand represent, broadly\nspeaking, so many degrees of retarded social and intellectual\ndevelopment, they correspond to similar stages which the ancestors of\nthe civilised races may be supposed to have passed through at more or\nless remote periods of their history. Thus when we arrange all the known\npeoples of the world according to the degree of their savagery or\ncivilisation in a graduated scale of culture, we obtain not merely a\ncomparative view of their relative positions in the scale, but also in\nsome measure an historical record of the genetic development of culture\nfrom a very early time down to the present day. Hence a study of the\nsavage and barbarous races of mankind is of the greatest importance for\na full understanding of the beliefs and practices, whether religious,\nsocial, moral, or political, of the most civilised races, including our\nown, since it is practically certain that a large part of these beliefs\nand practices originated with our savage ancestors, and has been\ninherited by us from them, with more or less of modification, through a\nlong line of intermediate generations.\n\n[Sidenote: The need is all the more urgent because savages are rapidly\ndisappearing or being transformed.]\n\nThat is why the study of existing savages at the present day engrosses\nso much of the attention of civilised peoples. We see that if we are to\ncomprehend not only our past history but our present condition, with all\nits many intricate and perplexing problems, we must begin at the\nbeginning by attempting to discover the mental state of our savage\nforefathers, who bequeathed to us so much of the faiths, the laws, and\nthe institutions which we still cherish; and more and more men are\ncoming to perceive that the only way open to us of doing this\neffectually is to study the mental state of savages who to this day\noccupy a state of culture analogous to that of our rude progenitors.\nThrough contact with civilisation these savages are now rapidly\ndisappearing, or at least losing the old habits and ideas which render\nthem a document of priceless historical value for us. Hence we have\nevery motive for prosecuting the study of savagery with ardour and\ndiligence before it is too late, before the record is gone for ever. We\nare like an heir whose title-deeds must be scrutinised before he can\ntake possession of the inheritance, but who finds the handwriting of the\ndeeds so fading and evanescent that it threatens to disappear entirely\nbefore he can read the document to the end. With what keen attention,\nwhat eager haste, would he not scan the fast-vanishing characters? With\nthe like attention and the like haste civilised men are now applying\nthemselves to the investigation of the fast-vanishing savages.\n\n[Sidenote: Savage religion is to be the subject of these lectures.]\n\nThus if we are to trace historically man's conception of God to its\norigin, it is desirable, or rather essential, that we should begin by\nstudying the most primitive ideas on the subject which are accessible to\nus, and the most primitive ideas are unquestionably those of the lowest\nsavages. Accordingly in these lectures I propose to deal with a\nparticular side or aspect of savage religion. I shall not trench on the\nsphere of the higher religions, not only because my knowledge of them is\nfor the most part very slight, but also because I believe that a\nsearching study of the higher and more complex religions should be\npostponed till we have acquired an accurate knowledge of the lower and\nsimpler. For a similar reason the study of inorganic chemistry naturally\nprecedes the study of organic chemistry, because inorganic compounds are\nmuch simpler and therefore more easily analysed and investigated than\norganic compounds. So with the chemistry of the mind; we should analyse\nthe comparatively simple phenomena of savage thought into its\nconstituent elements before we attempt to perform a similar operation on\nthe vastly more complex phenomena of civilised beliefs.\n\n[Sidenote: But only a part of savage religion will be dealt with.]\n\nBut while I shall confine myself rigidly to the field of savage\nreligion, I shall not attempt to present you with a complete survey even\nof that restricted area, and that for more reasons than one. In the\nfirst place the theme, even with this great limitation, is far too large\nto be adequately set forth in the time at my disposal; the sketch--for\nit could be no more than a sketch--would be necessarily superficial and\nprobably misleading. In the second place, even a sketch of primitive\nreligion in general ought to presuppose in the sketcher a fairly\ncomplete knowledge of the whole subject, so that all the parts may\nappear, not indeed in detail, but in their proper relative proportions.\nNow though I have given altogether a good deal of time to the study of\nprimitive religion, I am far from having studied it in all its branches,\nand I could not trust myself to give an accurate general account of it\neven in outline; were I to attempt such a thing I should almost\ncertainly fall, through sheer ignorance or inadvertence, into the\nmistake of exaggerating some features, unduly diminishing others, and\nomitting certain essential features altogether. Hence it seems to me\nbetter not to commit myself to so ambitious an enterprise but to confine\nmyself in my lectures, as I have always done in my writings, to a\ncomparatively minute investigation of certain special aspects or forms\nof primitive religion rather than attempt to embrace in a general view\nthe whole of that large subject. Such a relatively detailed study of a\nsingle compartment may be less attractive and more tedious than a\nbird's-eye view of a wider area; but in the end it may perhaps prove a\nmore solid contribution to knowledge.\n\n[Sidenote: Introductory observations. The question of a supernatural\nrevelation excluded.]\n\nBut before I come to details I wish to make a few general introductory\nremarks, and in particular to define some of the terms which I shall\nhave occasion to use in the lectures. I have defined natural theology as\nthat reasoned knowledge of a God or gods which man may be supposed,\nwhether rightly or wrongly, capable of attaining to by the exercise of\nhis natural faculties alone. Whether there ever has been or can be a\nspecial miraculous revelation of God to man through channels different\nfrom those through which all other human knowledge is derived, is a\nquestion which does not concern us in these lectures; indeed it is\nexpressly excluded from their scope by the will of the founder, who\ndirected the lecturers to treat the subject \"as a strictly natural\nscience,\" \"without reference to or reliance upon any supposed special\nexceptional or so-called miraculous revelation.\" Accordingly, in\ncompliance with these directions, I dismiss at the outset the question\nof a revelation, and shall limit myself strictly to natural theology in\nthe sense in which I have defined it.\n\n[Sidenote: Theology and religion, how related to each other.]\n\nI have called natural theology a reasoned knowledge of a God or gods to\ndistinguish it from that simple and comparatively, though I believe\nnever absolutely, unreasoning faith in God which suffices for the\npractice of religion. For theology is at once more and less than\nreligion: if on the one hand it includes a more complete acquaintance\nwith the grounds of religious belief than is essential to religion, on\nthe other hand it excludes the observance of those practical duties\nwhich are indispensable to any religion worthy of the name. In short,\nwhereas theology is purely theoretical, religion is both theoretical and\npractical, though the theoretical part of it need not be so highly\ndeveloped as in theology. But while the subject of the lectures is,\nstrictly speaking, natural theology rather than natural religion, I\nthink it would be not only difficult but undesirable to confine our\nattention to the purely theological or theoretical part of natural\nreligion: in all religions, and not least in the undeveloped savage\nreligions with which we shall deal, theory and practice fuse with and\ninteract on each other too closely to be forcibly disjoined and handled\napart. Hence throughout the lectures I shall not scruple to refer\nconstantly to religious practice as well as to religious theory, without\nfeeling that thereby I am transgressing the proper limits of my subject.\n\n[Sidenote: The term God defined.]\n\nAs theology is not only by definition but by etymology a reasoned\nknowledge or theory of a God or gods, it becomes desirable, before we\nproceed further, to define the sense in which I understand and shall\nemploy the word God. That sense is neither novel nor abstruse; it is\nsimply the sense which I believe the generality of mankind attach to the\nterm. By a God I understand a superhuman and supernatural being, of a\nspiritual and personal nature, who controls the world or some part of it\non the whole for good, and who is endowed with intellectual faculties,\nmoral feelings, and active powers, which we can only conceive on the\nanalogy of human faculties, feelings, and activities, though we are\nbound to suppose that in the divine nature they exist in higher degrees,\nperhaps in infinitely higher degrees, than the corresponding faculties,\nfeelings, and activities of man. In short, by a God I mean a beneficent\nsupernatural spirit, the ruler of the world or of some part of it, who\nresembles man in nature though he excels him in knowledge, goodness, and\npower. This is, I think, the sense in which the ordinary man speaks of a\nGod, and I believe that he is right in so doing. I am aware that it has\nbeen not unusual, especially perhaps of late years, to apply the name of\nGod to very different conceptions, to empty it of all implication of\npersonality, and to reduce it to signifying something very large and\nvery vague, such as the Infinite or the Absolute (whatever these hard\nwords may signify), the great First Cause, the Universal Substance, \"the\nstream of tendency by which all things seek to fulfil the law of their\nbeing,\"[1] and so forth. Now without expressing any opinion as to the\ntruth or falsehood of the views implied by such applications of the name\nof God, I cannot but regard them all as illegitimate extensions of the\nterm, in short as an abuse of language, and I venture to protest against\nit in the interest not only of verbal accuracy but of clear thinking,\nbecause it is apt to conceal from ourselves and others a real and very\nimportant change of thought: in particular it may lead many to imagine\nthat the persons who use the name of God in one or other of these\nextended senses retain certain theological opinions which they may in\nfact have long abandoned. Thus the misuse of the name of God may\nresemble the stratagem in war of putting up dummies to make an enemy\nimagine that a fort is still held after it has been evacuated by the\ngarrison. I am far from alleging or insinuating that the illegitimate\nextension of the divine name is deliberately employed by theologians or\nothers for the purpose of masking a change of front; but that it may\nhave that effect seems at least possible. And as we cannot use words in\nwrong senses without running a serious risk of deceiving ourselves as\nwell as others, it appears better on all accounts to adhere strictly to\nthe common meaning of the name of God as signifying a powerful\nsupernatural and on the whole beneficent spirit, akin in nature to man;\nand if any of us have ceased to believe in such a being we should\nrefrain from applying the old word to the new faith, and should find\nsome other and more appropriate term to express our meaning. At all\nevents, speaking for myself, I intend to use the name of God\nconsistently in the familiar sense, and I would beg my hearers to bear\nthis steadily in mind.\n\n[Sidenote: Monotheism and polytheism.]\n\nYou will have observed that I have spoken of natural theology as a\nreasoned knowledge of a God or gods. There is indeed nothing in the\ndefinition of God which I have adopted to imply that he is unique, in\nother words, that there is only one God rather than several or many\ngods. It is true that modern European thinkers, bred in a monotheistic\nreligion, commonly overlook polytheism as a crude theory unworthy the\nserious attention of philosophers; in short, the champions and the\nassailants of religion in Europe alike for the most part tacitly assume\nthat there is either one God or none. Yet some highly civilised nations\nof antiquity and of modern times, such as the ancient Egyptians, Greeks,\nand Romans, and the modern Chinese and Hindoos, have accepted the\npolytheistic explanation of the world, and as no reasonable man will\ndeny the philosophical subtlety of the Greeks and the Hindoos, to say\nnothing of the rest, a theory of the universe which has commended itself\nto them deserves perhaps more consideration than it has commonly\nreceived from Western philosophers; certainly it cannot be ignored in an\nhistorical enquiry into the origin of religion.\n\n[Sidenote: A natural knowledge of God can only be acquired by\nexperience.]\n\nIf there is such a thing as natural theology, that is, a knowledge of a\nGod or gods acquired by our natural faculties alone without the aid of a\nspecial revelation, it follows that it must be obtained by one or other\nof the methods by which all our natural knowledge is conveyed to us.\nRoughly speaking, these methods are two in number, namely, intuition and\nexperience. Now if we ask ourselves, Do we know God intuitively in the\nsame sense in which we know intuitively our own sensations and the\nsimplest truths of mathematics, I think most men will acknowledge that\nthey do not. It is true that according to Berkeley the world exists only\nas it is perceived, and that our perceptions of it are produced by the\nimmediate action of God on our minds, so that everything we perceive\nmight be described, if not as an idea in the mind of the deity, at least\nas a direct emanation from him. On this theory we might in a sense be\nsaid to have an immediate knowledge of God. But Berkeley's theory has\nfound little acceptance, so far as I know, even among philosophers; and\neven if we regarded it as true, we should still have to admit that the\nknowledge of God implied by it is inferential rather than intuitive in\nthe strict sense of the word: we infer God to be the cause of our\nperceptions rather than identify him with the perceptions themselves. On\nthe whole, then, I conclude that man, or at all events the ordinary man,\nhas, properly speaking, no immediate or intuitive knowledge of God, and\nthat, if he obtains, without the aid of revelation, any knowledge of him\nat all, it can only be through the other natural channel of knowledge,\nthat is, through experience.\n\n[Sidenote: The nature of experience.]\n\nIn experience, as distinct from intuition, we reach our conclusions not\ndirectly through simple contemplation of the particular sensations,\nemotions, or ideas of which we are at the moment conscious, but\nindirectly by calling up before the imagination and comparing with each\nother our memories of a variety of sensations, emotions, or ideas of\nwhich we have been conscious in the past, and by selecting or\nabstracting from the mental images so compared the points in which they\nresemble each other. The points of resemblance thus selected or\nabstracted from a number of particulars compose what we call an abstract\nor general idea, and from a comparison of such abstract or general ideas\nwith each other we arrive at general conclusions, which define the\nrelations of the ideas to each other. Experience in general consists in\nthe whole body of conclusions thus deduced from a comparison of all the\nparticular sensations, emotions, and ideas which make up the conscious\nlife of the individual. Hence in order to constitute experience the mind\nhas to perform a more or less complex series of operations, which are\ncommonly referred to certain mental faculties, such as memory,\nimagination, and judgment. This analysis of experience does not pretend\nto be philosophically complete or exact; but perhaps it is sufficiently\naccurate for the purpose of these lectures, the scope of which is not\nphilosophical but historical.\n\n[Sidenote: Two kinds of experience, the experience of our own mind and\nthe experience of an external world.]\n\nNow experience in the widest sense of the word may be conveniently\ndistinguished into two sorts, the experience of our own mind and the\nexperience of an external world. The distinction is indeed, like the\nothers with which I am dealing at present, rather practically useful\nthan theoretically sound; certainly it would not be granted by all\nphilosophers, for many of them have held that we neither have nor with\nour present faculties can possibly attain to any immediate knowledge or\nperception of an external world, we merely infer its existence from our\nown sensations, which are as strictly a part of our mind as the ideas\nand emotions of our waking life or the visions of sleep. According to\nthem, the existence of matter or of an external world is, so far as we\nare concerned, merely an hypothesis devised to explain the order of our\nsensations; it never has been perceived by any man, woman, or child who\never lived on earth; we have and can have no immediate knowledge or\nperception of anything but the states and operations of our own mind. On\nthis theory what we call the world, with all its supposed infinitudes of\nspace and time, its systems of suns and planets, its seemingly endless\nforms of inorganic matter and organic life, shrivels up, on a close\ninspection, into a fleeting, a momentary figment of thought. It is like\none of those glass baubles, iridescent with a thousand varied and\ndelicate hues, which a single touch suffices to shatter into dust. The\nphilosopher, like the sorcerer, has but to wave his magic wand,\n\n  \"And, like the baseless fabric of this vision,\n  The cloud-capped towers, the gorgeous palaces,\n  The solemn temples, the great globe itself,\n  Yea, all which it inherit, shall dissolve\n  And, like this insubstantial pageant faded,\n  Leave not a rack behind. We are such stuff\n  As dreams are made on, and our little life\n  Is rounded with a sleep.\"\n\n[Sidenote: The distinction rather popular and convenient than\nphilosophically strict.]\n\nIt would be beyond my province, even if it were within my power, to\ndiscuss these airy speculations, and thereby to descend into the arena\nwhere for ages subtle dialecticians have battled with each other over\nthe reality or unreality of an external world. For my purpose it\nsuffices to adopt the popular and convenient distinction of mind and\nmatter and hence to divide experience into two sorts, an inward\nexperience of the acts and states of our own minds, and an outward\nexperience of the acts and states of that physical universe by which we\nseem to be surrounded.\n\n[Sidenote: The knowledge or conception of God has been attained both by\ninward and by outward experience.]\n\nNow if a natural knowledge of God is only possible by means of\nexperience, in other words, by a process of reasoning based on\nobservation, it will follow that such a knowledge may conceivably be\nacquired either by the way of inward or of outward experience; in other\nwords, it may be attained either by reflecting on the processes of our\nown minds or by observing the processes of external nature. In point of\nfact, if we survey the history of thought, mankind appears to have\narrived at a knowledge, or at all events at a conception, of deity by\nboth these roads. Let me say a few words as to the two roads which lead,\nor seem to lead, man to God.\n\n[Sidenote: The conception of God is attained by inward experience, that\nis, by the observation of certain remarkable thoughts and feelings which\nare attributed to the inspiration of a deity. Practical dangers of the\ntheory of inspiration.]\n\nIn the first place, then, men in many lands and many ages have\nexperienced certain extraordinary emotions and entertained certain\nextraordinary ideas, which, unable to account for them by reference to\nthe ordinary forms of experience, they have set down to the direct\naction of a powerful spirit or deity working on their minds and even\nentering into and taking possession of their bodies; and in this excited\nstate--for violent excitement is characteristic of these\nmanifestations--the patient believes himself to be possessed of\nsupernatural knowledge and supernatural power. This real or supposed\nmode of apprehending a divine spirit and entering into communion with\nit, is commonly and appropriately called inspiration. The phenomenon is\nfamiliar to us from the example of the Hebrew nation, who believed that\ntheir prophets were thus inspired by the deity, and that their sacred\nbooks were regularly composed under the divine afflatus. The belief is\nby no means singular, indeed it appears to be world-wide; for it would\nbe hard to point to any race of men among whom instances of such\ninspiration have not been reported; and the more ignorant and savage the\nrace the more numerous, to judge by the reports, are the cases of\ninspiration. Volumes might be filled with examples, but through the\nspread of information as to the lower races in recent years the topic\nhas become so familiar that I need not stop to illustrate it by\ninstances. I will merely say that among savages the theory of\ninspiration or possession is commonly invoked to explain all abnormal\nmental states, particularly insanity or conditions of mind bordering on\nit, so that persons more or less crazed in their wits, and particularly\nhysterical or epileptic patients, are for that very reason thought to be\npeculiarly favoured by the spirits and are therefore consulted as\noracles, their wild and whirling words passing for the revelations of a\nhigher power, whether a god or a ghost, who considerately screens his\ntoo dazzling light under a thick veil of dark sayings and mysterious\nejaculations.[2] I need hardly point out the very serious dangers which\nmenace any society where such theories are commonly held and acted upon.\nIf the decisions of a whole community in matters of the gravest\nimportance are left to turn on the wayward fancies, the whims and\nvagaries of the insane or the semi-insane, what are likely to be the\nconsequences to the commonwealth? What, for example, can be expected to\nresult from a war entered upon at such dictation and waged under such\nauspices? Are cattle-breeding, agriculture, commerce, all the arts of\nlife on which a people depend for their subsistence, likely to thrive\nwhen they are directed by the ravings of epilepsy or the drivellings of\nhysteria? Defeat in battle, conquest by enemies, death by famine and\nwidespread disease, these and a thousand other lesser evils threaten the\nblind people who commit themselves to such blind guides. The history of\nsavage and barbarous tribes, could we follow it throughout, might\nfurnish us with a thousand warning instances of the fatal effects of\ncarrying out this crude theory of inspiration to its logical\nconclusions; and if we hear less than might be expected of such\ninstances, it is probably because the tribes who consistently acted up\nto their beliefs have thereby wiped themselves out of existence: they\nhave perished the victims of their folly and left no record behind. I\nbelieve that historians have not yet reckoned sufficiently with the\ndisastrous influence which this worship of insanity,--for it is often\nnothing less--has exercised on the fortunes of peoples and on the\ndevelopment or decay of their institutions.\n\n[Sidenote: The belief in inspiration leads to the worship of living men\nas gods. Outward experience as a source of the idea of God.]\n\nTo a certain extent, however, the evil has provided its own remedy. For\nmen of strong heads and ambitious temper, perceiving the exorbitant\npower which a belief in inspiration places in the hands of the\nfeeble-minded, have often feigned to be similarly afflicted, and trading\non their reputation for imbecility, or rather inspiration, have acquired\nan authority over their fellows which, though they have often abused it\nfor vulgar ends, they have sometimes exerted for good, as for example by\ngiving sound advice in matters of public concern, applying salutary\nremedies to the sick, and detecting and punishing crime, whereby they\nhave helped to preserve the commonwealth, to alleviate suffering, and to\ncement that respect for law and order which is essential to the\nstability of society, and without which any community must fall to\npieces like a house of cards. These great services have been rendered to\nthe cause of civilisation and progress by the class of men who in\nprimitive society are variously known as medicine-men, magicians,\nsorcerers, diviners, soothsayers, and so forth. Sometimes the respect\nwhich they have gained by the exercise of their profession has won for\nthem political as well as spiritual or ghostly authority; in short, from\nbeing simple medicine-men or sorcerers they have grown into chiefs and\nkings. When such men, seated on the throne of state, retain their old\nreputation for being the vehicles of a divine spirit, they may be\nworshipped in the character of gods as well as revered in the capacity\nof kings; and thus exerting a two-fold sway over the minds of men they\npossess a most potent instrument for elevating or depressing the\nfortunes of their worshippers and subjects. In this way the old savage\nnotion of inspiration or possession gradually develops into the doctrine\nof the divinity of kings, which after a long period of florescence\ndwindles away into the modest theory that kings reign by divine right, a\ntheory familiar to our ancestors not long ago, and perhaps not wholly\nobsolete among us even now. However, inspired men need not always\nblossom out into divine kings; they may, and often do, remain in the\nchrysalis state of simple deities revered by their simple worshippers,\ntheir brows encircled indeed with a halo of divinity but not weighted\nwith the more solid substance of a kingly crown. Thus certain\nextraordinary mental states, which those who experience and those who\nwitness them cannot account for in any other way, are often explained by\nthe supposed interposition of a spirit or deity. This, therefore, is one\nof the two forms of experience by which men attain, or imagine that they\nattain, to a knowledge of God and a communion with him. It is what I\nhave called the road of inward experience. Let us now glance at the\nother form of experience which leads, or seems to lead, to the same\ngoal. It is what I have called the road of outward experience.\n\n[Sidenote: Tendency of the mind to search for causes, and the necessity\nfor their discovery.]\n\nWhen we contemplate the seemingly infinite variety, the endless\nsuccession, of events that pass under our observation in what we call\nthe external world, we are led by an irresistible tendency to trace what\nwe call a causal connexion between them. The tendency to discover the\ncauses of things appears indeed to be innate in the constitution of our\nminds and indispensable to our continued existence. It is the link that\narrests and colligates into convenient bundles the mass of particulars\ndrifting pell-mell past on the stream of sensation; it is the cement\nthat binds into an edifice seemingly of adamant the loose sand of\nisolated perceptions. Deprived of the knowledge which this tendency\nprocures for us we should be powerless to foresee the succession of\nphenomena and so to adapt ourselves to it. We should be bewildered by\nthe apparent disorder and confusion of everything, we should toss on a\nsea without a rudder, we should wander in an endless maze without a\nclue, and finding no way out of it, or, in plain words, unable to avoid\na single one of the dangers which menace us at every turn, we should\ninevitably perish. Accordingly the propensity to search for causes is\ncharacteristic of man in all ages and at all levels of culture, though\nwithout doubt it is far more highly developed in civilised than in\nsavage communities. Among savages it is more or less unconscious and\ninstinctive; among civilised men it is deliberately cultivated and\nrewarded at least by the applause of their fellows, by the dignity, if\nnot by the more solid recompenses, of learning. Indeed as civilisation\nprogresses the enquiry into causes tends to absorb more and more of the\nhighest intellectual energies of a people; and an ever greater number of\nmen, renouncing the bustle, the pleasures, and the ambitions of an\nactive life, devote themselves exclusively to the pursuit of abstract\ntruth; they set themselves to discover the causes of things, to trace\nthe regularity and order that may be supposed to underlie the seemingly\nirregular, confused, and arbitrary sequence of phenomena. Unquestionably\nthe progress of civilisation owes much to the sustained efforts of such\nmen, and if of late years and within our own memory the pace of progress\nhas sensibly quickened, we shall perhaps not err in supposing that some\npart at least of the acceleration may be accounted for by an increase in\nthe number of lifelong students.\n\n[Sidenote: The idea of cause is simply that of invariable sequence\nsuggested by the observation of many particular cases of sequence.]\n\nNow when we analyse the conception of a cause to the bottom, we find as\nthe last residuum in our crucible nothing but what Hume found there long\nago, and that is simply the idea of invariable sequence. Whenever we say\nthat something is the cause of something else, all that we really mean\nis that the latter is invariably preceded by the former, so that\nwhenever we find the second, which we call the effect, we may infer that\nthe first, which we call the cause, has gone before it. All such\ninferences from effects to causes are based on experience; having\nobserved a certain sequence of events a certain number of times, we\nconclude that the events are so conjoined that the latter cannot occur\nwithout the previous occurrence of the former. A single case of two\nevents following each other could not of itself suggest that the one\nevent is the cause of the other, since there is no necessary link\nbetween them in the mind; the sequence has to be repeated more or less\nfrequently before we infer a causal connexion between the two; and this\ninference rests simply on that association of ideas which is established\nin our mind by the reiterated observation of the things. Once the ideas\nare by dint of repetition firmly welded together, the one by sheer force\nof habit calls up the other, and we say that the two things which are\nrepresented by those ideas stand to each other in the relation of cause\nand effect. The notion of causality is in short only one particular case\nof the association of ideas. Thus all reasoning as to causes implies\nprevious observation: we reason from the observed to the unobserved,\nfrom the known to the unknown; and the wider the range of our\nobservation and knowledge, the greater the probability that our\nreasoning will be correct.\n\n[Sidenote: The savage draws his ideas of natural causation from\nobservation of himself. Hence he explains the phenomena of nature by\nsupposing that they are produced by beings like himself. These beings\nmay be called spirits or gods of nature to distinguish them from living\nhuman gods.]\n\nAll this is as true of the savage as of the civilised man. He too\nargues, and indeed can only argue on the basis of experience from the\nknown to the unknown, from the observed to the hypothetical. But the\nrange of his experience is comparatively narrow, and accordingly his\ninferences from it often appear to civilised men, with their wider\nknowledge, to be palpably false and absurd. This holds good most\nobviously in regard to his observation of external nature. While he\noften knows a good deal about the natural objects, whether animals,\nplants, or inanimate things, on which he is immediately dependent for\nhis subsistence, the extent of country with which he is acquainted is\ncommonly but small, and he has little or no opportunity of correcting\nthe conclusions which he bases on his observation of it by a comparison\nwith other parts of the world. But if he knows little of the outer\nworld, he is necessarily somewhat better acquainted with his own inner\nlife, with his sensations and ideas, his emotions, appetites, and\ndesires. Accordingly it is natural enough that when he seeks to discover\nthe causes of events in the external world, he should, arguing from\nexperience, imagine that they are produced by the actions of invisible\nbeings like himself, who behind the veil of nature pull the strings that\nset the vast machinery in motion. For example, he knows by experience\nthat he can make sparks fly by knocking two flints against each other;\nwhat more natural, therefore, than that he should imagine the great\nsparks which we call lightning to be made in the same way by somebody up\naloft, and that when he finds chipped flints on the ground he should\ntake them for thunder-stones dropped by the maker of thunder and\nlightning from the clouds?[3] Thus arguing from his limited experience\nprimitive man creates a multitude of spirits or gods in his own likeness\nto explain the succession of phenomena in nature of whose true causes he\nis ignorant; in short he personifies the phenomena as powerful\nanthropomorphic spirits, and believing himself to be more or less\ndependent on their good will he woos their favour by prayer and\nsacrifice. This personification of the various aspects of external\nnature is one of the most fruitful sources of polytheism. The spirits\nand gods created by this train of thought may be called spirits and gods\nof nature to distinguish them from the human gods, by which I mean the\nliving men and women who are believed by their worshippers to be\ninspired or possessed by a divine spirit.\n\n[Sidenote: In time men reject polytheism as an explanation of natural\nprocesses and substitute certain abstract ideas of ethers, atoms,\nmolecules, and so on.]\n\nBut as time goes on and men learn more about nature, they commonly\nbecome dissatisfied with polytheism as an explanation of the world and\ngradually discard it. From one department of nature after another the\ngods are reluctantly or contemptuously dismissed and their provinces\ncommitted to the care of certain abstract ideas of ethers, atoms,\nmolecules, and so forth, which, though just as imperceptible to human\nsenses as their divine predecessors, are judged by prevailing opinion to\ndischarge their duties with greater regularity and despatch, and are\naccordingly firmly installed on the vacant thrones amid the general\napplause of the more enlightened portion of mankind. Thus instead of\nbeing peopled with a noisy bustling crowd of full-blooded and\npicturesque deities, clothed in the graceful form and animated with the\nwarm passions of humanity, the universe outside the narrow circle of our\nconsciousness is now conceived as absolutely silent, colourless, and\ndeserted. The cheerful sounds which we hear, the bright hues which we\nsee, have no existence, we are told, in the external world: the voices\nof friends, the harmonies of music, the chime of falling waters, the\nsolemn roll of ocean, the silver splendour of the moon, the golden\nglories of sunset, the verdure of summer woods, and the hectic tints of\nautumn--all these subsist only in our own minds, and if we imagine them\nto have any reality elsewhere, we deceive ourselves. In fact the whole\nexternal world as perceived by us is one great illusion: if we gave the\nreins to fancy we might call it a mirage, a piece of witchery, conjured\nup by the spells of some unknown magician to bewilder poor ignorant\nhumanity. Outside of ourselves there stretches away on every side an\ninfinitude of space without sound, without light, without colour, a\nsolitude traversed only in every direction by an inconceivably complex\nweb of silent and impersonal forces. That, if I understand it aright, is\nthe general conception of the world which modern science has substituted\nfor polytheism.\n\n[Sidenote: But while they commonly discard the hypothesis of a deity as\nan explanation of all the particular processes of nature, they retain it\nas an explanation of nature in general.]\n\nWhen philosophy and science by their combined efforts have ejected gods\nand goddesses from all the subordinate posts of nature, it might perhaps\nbe expected that they would have no further occasion for the services of\na deity, and that having relieved him of all his particular functions\nthey would have arranged for the creation and general maintenance of the\nuniverse without him by handing over these important offices to an\nefficient staff of those ethers, atoms, corpuscles, and so forth, which\nhad already proved themselves so punctual in the discharge of the minor\nduties entrusted to them. Nor, indeed, is this expectation altogether\ndisappointed. A number of atheistical philosophers have courageously\ncome forward and assured us that the hypothesis of a deity as the\ncreator and preserver of the universe is quite superfluous, and that all\nthings came into being or have existed from eternity without the help of\nany divine spirit, and that they will continue to exist without it to\nthe end, if end indeed there is to be. But on the whole these daring\nspeculators appear to be in a minority. The general opinion of educated\npeople at the present day, could we ascertain it, would probably be\nfound to incline to the conclusion that, though every department of\nnature is now worked by impersonal material forces alone, the universe\nas a whole was created and is still maintained by a great supernatural\nspirit whom we call God. Thus in Europe and in the countries which have\nborrowed their civilisation, their philosophy, and their religion from\nit, the central problem of natural theology has narrowed itself down to\nthe question, Is there one God or none? It is a profound question, and I\nfor one profess myself unable to answer it.\n\n[Sidenote: Whether attained by inward or outward experience, the idea of\nGod is regularly that of a cause inferred, not perceived.]\n\nIf this brief sketch of the history of natural theology is correct, man\nhas by the exercise of his natural faculties alone, without the help of\nrevelation, attained to a knowledge or at least to a conception of God\nin one of two ways, either by meditating on the operations of his own\nmind, or by observing the processes of external nature: inward\nexperience and outward experience have conducted him by different roads\nto the same goal. By whichever of them the conception has been reached,\nit is regularly employed to explain the causal connexion of things,\nwhether the things to be explained are the ideas and emotions of man\nhimself or the changes in the physical world outside of him. In short, a\nGod is always brought in to play the part of a cause; it is the\nimperious need of tracing the causes of events which has driven man to\ndiscover or invent a deity. Now causes may be arranged in two classes\naccording as they are perceived or unperceived by the senses. For\nexample, when we see the impact of a billiard cue on a billiard ball\nfollowed immediately by the motion of the ball, we say that the impact\nis the cause of the motion. In this case we perceive the cause as well\nas the effect. But, when we see an apple fall from a tree to the ground,\nwe say that the cause of the fall is the force of gravitation exercised\nby the superior mass of the earth on the inferior mass of the apple. In\nthis case, though we perceive the effect, we do not perceive the cause,\nwe only infer it by a process of reasoning from experience. Causes of\nthe latter sort may be called inferential or hypothetical causes to\ndistinguish them from those which are perceived. Of the two classes of\ncauses a deity belongs in general, if not universally, to the second,\nthat is, to the inferential or hypothetical causes; for as a rule at all\nevents his existence is not perceived by our senses but inferred by our\nreason. To say that he has never appeared in visible and tangible form\nto men would be to beg the question; it would be to make an assertion\nwhich is incapable of proof and which is contradicted by a multitude of\ncontrary affirmations recorded in the traditions or the sacred books of\nmany races; but without being rash we may perhaps say that such\nappearances, if they ever took place, belong to a past order of events\nand need hardly be reckoned with at the present time. For all practical\npurposes, therefore, God is now a purely inferential or hypothetical\ncause; he may be invoked to explain either our own thoughts and\nfeelings, our impulses and emotions, or the manifold states and\nprocesses of external nature; he may be viewed either as the inspirer of\nthe one or the creator and preserver of the other; and according as he\nis mainly regarded from the one point of view or the other, the\nconception of the divine nature tends to beget one of two very different\ntypes of piety. To the man who traces the finger of God in the workings\nof his own mind, the deity appears to be far closer than he seems to the\nman who only infers the divine existence from the marvellous order,\nharmony, and beauty of the external world; and we need not wonder that\nthe faith of the former is of a more fervent temper and supplies him\nwith more powerful incentives to a life of active devotion than the calm\nand rational faith of the latter. We may conjecture that the piety of\nmost great religious reformers has belonged to the former rather than to\nthe latter type; in other words, that they have believed in God because\nthey felt, or imagined that they felt, him stirring in their own hearts\nrather than because they discerned the handiwork of a divine artificer\nin the wonderful mechanism of nature.\n\n[Sidenote: Besides the two sorts of gods already distinguished, namely\nnatural gods and living human gods, there is a third sort which has\nplayed an important part in history, namely, the spirits of deified dead\nmen. Euhemerism.]\n\nThus far I have distinguished two sorts of gods whom man discovers or\ncreates for himself by the exercise of his unaided faculties, to wit\nnatural gods, whom he infers from his observation of external nature,\nand human gods or inspired men, whom he recognises by virtue of certain\nextraordinary mental manifestations in himself or in others. But there\nis another class of human gods which I have not yet mentioned and which\nhas played a very important part in the evolution of theology. I mean\nthe deified spirits of dead men. To judge by the accounts we possess not\nonly of savage and barbarous tribes but of some highly civilised\npeoples, the worship of the human dead has been one of the commonest and\nmost influential forms of natural religion, perhaps indeed the commonest\nand most influential of all. Obviously it rests on the supposition that\nthe human personality in some form, whether we call it a soul, a spirit,\na ghost, or what not, can survive death and thereafter continue for a\nlonger or shorter time to exercise great power for good or evil over the\ndestinies of the living, who are therefore compelled to propitiate the\nshades of the dead out of a regard for their own safety and well-being.\nThis belief in the survival of the human spirit after death is\nworld-wide; it is found among men in all stages of culture from the\nlowest to the highest; we need not wonder therefore that the custom of\npropitiating the ghosts or souls of the departed should be world-wide\nalso. No doubt the degree of attention paid to ghosts is not the same in\nall cases; it varies with the particular degree of power attributed to\neach of them; the spirits of men who for any reason were much feared in\ntheir lifetime, such as mighty warriors, chiefs, and kings, are more\nrevered and receive far more marks of homage than the spirits of common\nmen; and it is only when this reverence and homage are carried to a very\nhigh pitch that they can properly be described as a deification of the\ndead. But that dead men have thus been raised to the rank of deities in\nmany lands, there is abundant evidence to prove. And quite apart from\nthe worship paid to those spirits which are admitted by their\nworshippers to have once animated the bodies of living men, there is\ngood reason to suspect that many gods, who rank as purely mythical\nbeings, were once men of flesh and blood, though their true history has\npassed out of memory or rather been transformed by legend into a myth,\nwhich veils more or less completely the real character of the imaginary\ndeity. The theory that most or all gods originated after this fashion,\nin other words, that the worship of the gods is little or nothing but\nthe worship of dead men, is known as Euhemerism from Euhemerus, the\nancient Greek writer who propounded it. Regarded as a universal\nexplanation of the belief in gods it is certainly false; regarded as a\npartial explanation of the belief it is unquestionably true; and perhaps\nwe may even go further and say, that the more we penetrate into the\ninner history of natural religion, the larger is seen to be the element\nof truth contained in Euhemerism. For the more closely we look at many\ndeities of natural religion, the more distinctly do we seem to perceive,\nunder the quaint or splendid pall which the mythical fancy has wrapt\nround their stately figures, the familiar features of real men, who once\nshared the common joys and the common sorrows of humanity, who trod\nlife's common road to the common end.\n\n[Sidenote: The deification of dead men presupposes the immortality of\nthe human soul, or rather its survival for a longer or shorter time\nafter death.]\n\nWhen we ask how it comes about that dead men have so often been raised\nto the rank of divinities, the first thing to be observed is that all\nsuch deifications must, if our theory is correct, be inferences drawn\nfrom experience of some sort; they must be hypotheses devised to explain\nthe unperceived causes of certain phenomena, whether of the human mind\nor of external nature. All of them imply, as I have said, a belief that\nthe conscious human personality, call it the soul, the spirit, or what\nyou please, can survive the body and continue to exist in a disembodied\nstate with unabated or even greatly increased powers for good or evil.\nThis faith in the survival of personality after death may for the sake\nof brevity be called a faith in immortality, though the term immortality\nis not strictly correct, since it seems to imply eternal duration,\nwhereas the idea of eternity is hardly intelligible to many primitive\npeoples, who nevertheless firmly believe in the continued existence, for\na longer or shorter time, of the human spirit after the dissolution of\nthe body. Now the faith in the immortality of the soul or, to speak more\ncorrectly, in the continued existence of conscious human personality\nafter death, is, as I remarked before, exceedingly common among men at\nall levels of intellectual evolution from the lowest upwards; certainly\nit is not peculiar to adherents of the higher religions, but is held as\nan unquestionable truth by at least the great majority of savage and\nbarbarous peoples as to whose ideas we possess accurate information;\nindeed it might be hard to point to any single tribe of men, however\nsavage, of whom we could say with certainty that the faith is totally\nwanting among them.\n\n[Sidenote: The question of immortality is a fundamental problem of\nnatural theology in the wider sense.]\n\nHence if we are to explain the deification of dead men, we must first\nexplain the widespread belief in immortality; we must answer the\nquestion, how does it happen that men in all countries and at all stages\nof ignorance or knowledge so commonly suppose that when they die their\nconsciousness will still persist for an indefinite time after the decay\nof the body? To answer that question is one of the fundamental problems\nof natural theology, not indeed in the full sense of the word theology,\nif we confine the term strictly to a reasoned knowledge of a God; for\nthe example of Buddhism proves that a belief in the existence of the\nhuman soul after death is quite compatible with disbelief in a deity.\nBut if we may use, as I think we may, the phrase natural theology in an\nextended sense to cover theories which, though they do not in themselves\naffirm the existence of a God, nevertheless appear to be one of the\ndeepest and most fruitful sources of the belief in his reality, then we\nmay legitimately say that the doctrine of human immortality does fall\nwithin the scope of natural theology. What then is its origin? How is it\nthat men so commonly believe themselves to be immortal?\n\n[Sidenote: If there is any natural knowledge of immortality, it must be\nacquired either by intuition or experience; it is apparently not given\nby intuition; hence it must be acquired, if at all, by experience.]\n\nIf there is any natural knowledge of human immortality, it must be\nacquired either by intuition or by experience; there is no other way.\nNow whether other men from a simple contemplation of their own nature,\nquite apart from reasoning, know or believe themselves intuitively to be\nimmortal, I cannot say; but I can say with some confidence that for\nmyself I have no such intuition whatever of my own immortality, and that\nif I am left to the resources of my natural faculties alone, I can as\nlittle affirm the certain or probable existence of my personality after\ndeath as I can affirm the certain or probable existence of a personal\nGod. And I am bold enough to suspect that if men could analyse their own\nideas, they would generally find themselves to be in a similar\npredicament as to both these profound topics. Hence I incline to lay it\ndown as a probable proposition that men as a rule have no intuitive\nknowledge of their own immortality, and that if there is any natural\nknowledge of such a thing it can only be acquired by a process of\nreasoning from experience.[4]\n\n[Sidenote: The idea of immortality seems to have been suggested to man\nboth by his inward and his outward experience, notably by dreams, which\nare a case of inward experience.]\n\nWhat then is the kind of experience from which the theory of human\nimmortality is deduced? Is it our experience of the operations of our\nown minds? or is it our experience of external nature? As a matter of\nhistorical fact--and you will remember that I am treating the question\npurely from the historical standpoint--men seem to have inferred the\npersistence of their personality after death both from the one kind of\nexperience and from the other, that is, both from the phenomena of their\ninner life and from the phenomena of what we call the external world.\nThus the savage, with whose beliefs we are chiefly concerned in these\nlectures, finds a very strong argument for immortality in the phenomena\nof dreams, which are strictly a part of his inner life, though in his\nignorance he commonly fails to discriminate them from what we popularly\ncall waking realities. Hence when the images of persons whom he knows to\nbe dead appear to him in a dream, he naturally infers that these persons\nstill exist somewhere and somehow apart from their bodies, of the decay\nor destruction of which he may have had ocular demonstration. How could\nhe see dead people, he asks, if they did not exist? To argue that they\nhave perished like their bodies is to contradict the plain evidence of\nhis senses; for to the savage still more than to the civilised man\nseeing is believing; that he sees the dead only in dreams does not shake\nhis belief, since he thinks the appearances of dreams just as real as\nthe appearances of his waking hours. And once he has in this way gained\na conviction that the dead survive and can help or harm him, as they\nseem to do in dreams, it is natural or necessary for him to extend the\ntheory to the occurrences of daily life, which, as I have said, he does\nnot sharply distinguish from the visions of slumber. He now explains\nmany of these occurrences and many of the processes of nature by the\ndirect interposition of the spirits of the departed; he traces their\ninvisible hand in many of the misfortunes and in some of the blessings\nwhich befall him; for it is a common feature of the faith in ghosts, at\nleast among savages, that they are usually spiteful and mischievous, or\nat least testy and petulant, more apt to injure than to benefit the\nsurvivors. In that they resemble the personified spirits of nature,\nwhich in the opinion of most savages appear to be generally tricky and\nmalignant beings, whose anger is dangerous and whose favour is courted\nwith fear and trembling. Thus even without the additional assurance\nafforded by tales of apparitions and spectres, primitive man may come in\ntime to imagine the world around him to be more or less thickly peopled,\ninfluenced, and even dominated by a countless multitude of spirits,\namong whom the shades of past generations of men and women hold a very\nprominent, often apparently the leading place. These spirits, powerful\nto help or harm, he seeks either simply to avert, when he deems them\npurely mischievous, or to appease and conciliate, when he supposes them\nsufficiently good-natured to respond to his advances. In some such way\nas this, arguing from the real but, as we think, misinterpreted\nphenomena of dreams, the savage may arrive at a doctrine of human\nimmortality and from that at a worship of the dead.\n\n[Sidenote: It has also been suggested by the resemblance of the living\nto the dead, which is a case of outward experience.]\n\nThis explanation of the savage faith in immortality is neither novel nor\noriginal: on the contrary it is perhaps the commonest and most familiar\nthat has yet been propounded. If it does not account for all the facts,\nit probably accounts for many of them. At the same time I do not doubt\nthat many other inferences drawn from experiences of different kinds\nhave confirmed, even if they did not originally suggest, man's confident\nbelief in his own immortality. To take a single example of outward\nexperience, the resemblances which children often bear to deceased\nkinsfolk appear to have prompted in the minds of many savages the notion\nthat the souls of these dead kinsfolk have been born again in their\ndescendants.[5] From a few cases of resemblances so explained it would\nbe easy to arrive at a general theory that all living persons are\nanimated by the souls of the dead; in other words, that the human spirit\nsurvives death for an indefinite period, if not for eternity, during\nwhich it undergoes a series of rebirths or reincarnations. However it\nhas been arrived at, this doctrine of the transmigration or\nreincarnation of the soul is found among many tribes of savages; and\nfrom what we know on the subject we seem to be justified in conjecturing\nthat at certain stages of mental and social evolution the belief in\nmetempsychosis has been far commoner and has exercised a far deeper\ninfluence on the life and institutions of primitive man than the actual\nevidence before us at present allows us positively to affirm.\n\n[Sidenote: The aim of these lectures is to collect a number of facts\nillustrative of the belief in immortality and of the customs based on it\namong some of the lower races.]\n\nBe that as it may--and I have no wish to dogmatise on so obscure a\ntopic--it is certain that a belief in the survival of the human\npersonality after death and the practice of a propitiation or worship of\nthe dead have prevailed very widely among mankind and have played a very\nimportant part in the development of natural religion. While many\nwriters have duly recognised the high importance both of the belief and\nof the worship, no one, so far as I know, has attempted systematically\nto collect and arrange the facts which illustrate the prevalence of this\nparticular type of religion among the various races of mankind. A large\nbody of evidence lies to hand in the voluminous and rapidly increasing\nliterature of ethnology; but it is dispersed over an enormous number of\nprinted books and papers, to say nothing of the materials which still\nremain buried either in manuscript or in the minds of men who possess\nthe requisite knowledge but have not yet committed it to writing. To\ndraw all those stores of information together and digest them into a\nsingle treatise would be a herculean labour, from which even the most\nindustrious researcher into the dusty annals of the human past might\nshrink dismayed. Certainly I shall make no attempt to perform such a\nfeat within the narrow compass of these lectures. But it seems to me\nthat I may make a useful, if a humble, contribution to the history of\nreligion by selecting a portion of the evidence and submitting it to my\nhearers. For that purpose, instead of accumulating a mass of facts from\nall the various races of mankind and then comparing them together, I\nprefer to limit myself to a few races and to deal with each of them\nseparately, beginning with the lowest savages, about whom we possess\naccurate information, and gradually ascending to peoples who stand\nhigher in the scale of culture. In short the method of treatment which I\nshall adopt will be the descriptive rather than the comparative. I shall\nnot absolutely refrain from instituting comparisons between the customs\nand beliefs of different races, but for the most part I shall content\nmyself with describing the customs and beliefs of each race separately\nwithout reference to those of others. Each of the two methods, the\ncomparative and the descriptive, has its peculiar advantages and\ndisadvantages, and in my published writings I have followed now the one\nmethod and now the other. The comparative method is unquestionably the\nmore attractive and stimulating, but it cannot be adopted without a good\ndeal of more or less conscious theorising, since every comparison\nimplicitly involves a theory. If we desire to exclude theories and\nmerely accumulate facts for the use of science, the descriptive method\nis undoubtedly the better adapted for the arrangement of our materials:\nit may not stimulate enquiry so powerfully, but it lays a more solid\nfoundation on which future enquirers may build. It is as a collection of\nfacts illustrative of the belief in immortality and of all the momentous\nconsequences which have flowed from that belief, that I desire the\nfollowing lectures to be regarded. They are intended to serve simply as\na document of religious history; they make no pretence to discuss\nphilosophically the truth of the beliefs and the morality of the\npractices which will be passed under review. If any inferences can\nindeed be drawn from the facts to the truth or falsehood of the beliefs\nand to the moral worth or worthlessness of the practices, I prefer to\nleave it to others more competent than myself to draw them. My sight is\nnot keen enough, my hand is not steady enough to load the scales and\nhold the balance in so difficult and delicate an enquiry.\n\n[Footnote 1: Matthew Arnold, _Literature and Dogma_, ch. i., p. 31\n(Popular Edition, London, 1893).]\n\n[Footnote 2: For a single instance see L. Sternberg, \"Die Religion der\nGiljaken,\" _Archiv fuer Religionswissenschaft_, viii. (1905) pp. 462\n_sqq._, where the writer tells us that the Gilyaks have boundless faith\nin the supernatural power of their shamans, and that the shamans are\nnearly always persons who suffer from hysteria in one form or another.]\n\n[Footnote 3: As to the widespread belief that flint weapons are\nthunderbolts see Sir E. B. Tylor, _Researches into the Early History of\nMankind_, Third Edition (London, 1878), pp. 223-227; Chr. Blinkenberg,\n_The Thunderweapon in Religion and Folklore_ (Cambridge, 1911); W. W.\nSkeat \"Snakestones and Thunderbolts,\" _Folk-lore_, xxiii. (1912) pp. 60\n_sqq._; and the references in _The Magic Art and the Evolution of\nKings_, ii. 374.]\n\n[Footnote 4: Wordsworth, who argues strongly, almost passionately, for\n\"the consciousness of a principle of Immortality in the human soul,\"\nadmits that \"the sense of Immortality, if not a coexistent and twin\nbirth with Reason, is among the earliest of her offspring.\" See his\n_Essay upon Epitaphs_, appended to _The Excursion_ (_Poetical Works_,\nLondon, 1832, vol. iv. pp. 336, 338). This somewhat hesitating admission\nof the inferential nature of the belief in immortality carries all the\nmore weight because it is made by so warm an advocate of human\nimmortality.]\n\n[Footnote 5: For instance, the Kagoro of Northern Nigeria believe that\n\"a spirit may transmigrate into the body of a descendant born\nafterwards, male or female; in fact, this is common, as is proved by the\nlikeness of children to their parents or grand-parents, and it is lucky,\nfor the ghost has returned, and has no longer any power to frighten the\nrelatives until the new body dies, and it is free again\" (Major A. J. N.\nTremearne, \"Notes on some Nigerian Head-hunters,\" _Journal of the R.\nAnthropological Institute_, xlii. (1912) p. 159). Compare _Taboo and the\nPerils of the Soul_, pp. 88 _sq._; _The Dying God_, p. 287 (p. 288,\nSecond Impression).]\n\n\n\n\nLECTURE II\n\nTHE SAVAGE CONCEPTION OF DEATH\n\n\n[Sidenote: The subject of these lectures is the belief in immortality\nand the worship of the dead.]\n\nLast day I explained the subject of which I propose to treat and the\nmethod which I intend to follow in these lectures. I shall describe the\nbelief in immortality, or rather in the continued existence of the human\nsoul after death, as that belief is found among certain of the lower\nraces, and I shall give some account of the religion which has been\nbased upon it. That religion is in brief a propitiation or worship of\nthe human dead, who according to the degree of power ascribed to them by\nthe living are supposed to vary in dignity from the humble rank of a\nmere common ghost up to the proud position of deity. The elements of\nsuch a worship appear to exist among all races of men, though in some\nthey have been much more highly developed than in others.\n\n[Sidenote: Preliminary account of savage beliefs concerning the nature\nand origin of death.]\n\nBut before I address myself to the description of particular races, I\nwish in this and the following lecture to give you some general account\nof the beliefs of savages concerning the nature and origin of death. The\nproblem of death has very naturally exercised the minds of men in all\nages. Unlike so many problems which interest only a few solitary\nthinkers this one concerns us all alike, since simpletons as well as\nsages must die, and even the most heedless and feather-brained can\nhardly help sometimes asking themselves what comes after death. The\nquestion is therefore thrust in a practical, indeed importunate form on\nour attention; and we need not wonder that in the long history of human\nspeculation some of the highest intellects should have occupied\nthemselves with it and sought to find an answer to the riddle. Some of\ntheir solutions of the problem, though dressed out in all the beauty of\nexquisite language and poetic imagery, singularly resemble the rude\nguesses of savages. So little, it would seem, do the natural powers even\nof the greatest minds avail to pierce the thick veil that hides the end\nof life.\n\n[Sidenote: The problem of death is one of universal interest.]\n\nIn saying that the problem is thrust home upon us all, I do not mean to\nimply that all men are constantly or even often engaged in meditating on\nthe nature and origin of death. Far from it. Few people trouble\nthemselves about that or any other purely abstract question: the common\nman would probably not give a straw for an answer to it. What he wants\nto know, what we all want to know, is whether death is the end of all\nthings for the individual, whether our conscious personality perishes\nwith the body or survives it for a time or for eternity. That is the\nenigma propounded to every human being who has been born into the world:\nthat is the door at which so many enquirers have knocked in vain. Stated\nin this limited form the problem has indeed been of universal interest:\nthere is no race of men known to us which has not pondered the mystery\nand arrived at some conclusions to which it more or less confidently\nadheres. Not that all races have paid an equal attention to it. On some\nit has weighed much more heavily than on others. While some races, like\nsome individuals, take death almost lightly, and are too busy with the\ncertainties of the present world to pay much heed to the uncertainties\nof a world to come, the minds of others have dwelt on the prospect of a\nlife beyond the grave till the thought of it has risen with them to a\npassion, almost to an obsession, and has begotten a contempt for the\nfleeting joys of this ephemeral existence by comparison with the\nhoped-for bliss of an eternal existence hereafter. To the sceptic,\nexamining the evidence for immortality by the cold light of reason, such\npeoples and such individuals may seem to sacrifice the substance for the\nshadow: to adopt a homely comparison, they are like the dog in the fable\nwho dropped the real leg of mutton, from his mouth in order to snap at\nits reflection in the water. Be that as it may, where such beliefs and\nhopes are entertained in full force, the whole activity of the mind and\nthe whole energy of the body are apt to be devoted to a preparation for\na blissful or at all events an untroubled eternity, and life becomes, in\nthe language of Plato, a meditation or practising of death. This\nexcessive preoccupation with a problematic future has been a fruitful\nsource of the most fatal aberrations both for nations and individuals.\nIn pursuit of these visionary aims the few short years of life have been\nfrittered away: wealth has been squandered: blood has been poured out in\ntorrents: the natural affections have been stifled; and the cheerful\nserenity of reason has been exchanged for the melancholy gloom of\nmadness.\n\n  \"Oh threats of Hell and Hopes of Paradise!\n  One thing at least is certain--_This_ Life flies;\n    One thing is certain and the rest is Lies;\n  The Flower that once has blown for ever dies.\"\n\n[Sidenote: The belief in immortality general among mankind.]\n\nThe question whether our conscious personality survives after death has\nbeen answered by almost all races of men in the affirmative. On this\npoint sceptical or agnostic peoples are nearly, if not wholly, unknown.\nAccordingly if abstract truth could be determined, like the gravest\nissues of national policy, by a show of hands or a counting of heads,\nthe doctrine of human immortality, or at least of a life after death,\nwould deserve to rank among the most firmly established of truths; for\nwere the question put to the vote of the whole of mankind, there can be\nno doubt that the ayes would have it by an overwhelming majority. The\nfew dissenters would be overborne; their voices would be drowned in the\ngeneral roar. For dissenters there have been even among savages. The\nTongans, for example, thought that only the souls of noblemen are saved,\nthe rest perish with their bodies.[6] However, this aristocratic view\nhas never been popular, and is not likely to find favour in our\ndemocratic age.\n\n[Sidenote: Belief of many savages that they would never die if their\nlives were not cut short by sorcery. Belief of the Abipones.]\n\nBut many savage races not only believe in a life after death; they are\neven of opinion that they would never die at all if it were not for the\nmaleficent arts of sorcerers who cut the vital thread prematurely short.\nIn other words, they disbelieve in what we call a natural death; they\nthink that all men are naturally immortal in this life, and that every\ndeath which takes place is in fact a violent death inflicted by the hand\nof a human enemy, though in many cases the foe is invisible and works\nhis fell purpose not by a sword or a spear but by magic. Thus the\nAbipones, a now extinct tribe of horse Indians in Paraguay, used to\nallege that they would be immortal and that none of them would ever die\nif only the Spaniards and the sorcerers could be banished from America;\nfor they were in the habit of attributing every death, whatever its\ncause, either to the baleful arts of sorcerers or to the firearms of the\nSpaniards. Even if a man died riddled with wounds, with his bones\nsmashed, or through the exhaustion of old age, these Indians would all\ndeny that the wounds or old age was the cause of his death; they firmly\nbelieved that the death was brought about by magic, and they would make\ncareful enquiries to discover the sorcerer who had cast the fatal spell\non their comrade. The relations of the deceased would move every stone\nto detect and punish the culprit; and they imagined that they could do\nthis by cutting out the heart and tongue of the dead man and throwing\nthem to a dog to be devoured. They thought that this in some way killed\nthe wicked magician who had killed their friend. For example, it\nhappened that in a squabble between two men about a horse a third man\nwho tried to make peace between the disputants was mortally wounded by\ntheir spears and died in a few days. To us it might seem obvious that\nthe peacemaker was killed by the spear-wounds which he had received, but\nnone of the Abipones would admit such a thing for a moment. They stoutly\naffirmed that their comrade had been done to death by the magical arts\nof some person unknown, and their suspicions fell on a certain old\nwoman, known to be a witch, to whom the deceased had lately refused to\ngive a water-melon, and who out of spite had killed him by her spells,\nthough he appeared to the European eye to have died of a spear-wound.[7]\n\n[Sidenote: Belief of the Araucanians.]\n\nSimilarly the warlike Araucanians of Chili are said to disbelieve in\nnatural death. Even if a man dies peaceably at the age of a hundred,\nthey still think that he has been bewitched by an enemy. A diviner or\nmedicine-man is consulted in order to discover the culprit. Some of\nthese wizards enjoy a great reputation and the Indians will send a\nhundred miles or more to get the opinion of an eminent member of the\nprofession. In such cases they submit to him some of the remains of the\ndead man, for example, his eyebrows, his nails, his tongue, or the soles\nof his feet, and from an examination of these relics the man of skill\npronounces on the author of the death. The person whom he accuses is\nhunted down and killed, sometimes by fire, amid the yells of an enraged\ncrowd.[8]\n\n[Sidenote: Belief of the Bakairi.]\n\nWhen the eminent German anthropologist was questioning a Bakairi Indian\nof Brazil as to the language of his tribe, he gave the sentence, \"Every\nman must die\" to be translated into the Bakairi language. To his\nastonishment, the Indian remained long silent. The same long pause\nalways occurred when an abstract proposition, with which he was\nunfamiliar, was put before the Indian for translation into his native\ntongue. On the present occasion the enquirer learned that the Indian has\nno idea of necessity in the abstract, and in particular he has no\nconception at all of the necessity of death. The cause of death, in his\nopinion, is invariably an ill turn done by somebody to the deceased. If\nthere were only good men in the world, he thinks that there would be\nneither sickness nor death. He knows nothing about a natural end of the\nvital process; he believes that all sickness and disease are the effects\nof witchcraft.[9]\n\n[Sidenote: Belief of the Indians of Guiana in sorcery as the cause of\nsickness and death.]\n\nSpeaking of the Indians of Guiana, an English missionary, who knew them\nwell, says that the worst feature in their character is their proneness\nto blood revenge, \"by which a succession of retaliatory murders may be\nkept up for a long time. It is closely connected with their system of\nsorcery, which we shall presently consider. A person dies,--and it is\nsupposed that an enemy has secured the agency of an evil spirit to\ncompass his death. Some sorcerer, employed by the friends of the\ndeceased for that purpose, pretends by his incantations to discover the\nguilty individual or family, or at any rate to indicate the quarter\nwhere they dwell. A near relative of the deceased is then charged with\nthe work of vengeance. He becomes a _kanaima_, or is supposed to be\npossessed by the destroying spirit so called, and has to live apart,\naccording to strict rule, and submit to many privations, until the deed\nof blood be accomplished. If the supposed offender cannot be slain, some\ninnocent member of his family--man, woman, or little child--must suffer\ninstead.\"[10] The same writer tells us that these Indians of Guiana\nattribute sickness and death directly to the agency of certain evil\nspirits called _yauhahu_, who delight in inflicting miseries upon\nmankind. Pain, in the language of the Arawaks (one of the best-known\ntribes of Guiana), is called _yauhahu simaira_ or \"the evil spirit's\narrow.\"[11] It is these evil spirits whom wicked sorcerers employ to\naccomplish their fell purpose. Thus while the demon is the direct cause\nof sickness and death, the sorcerer who uses him as his tool is the\nindirect cause. The demon is thought to do his work by inserting some\nalien substance into the body of the sufferer, and a medicine-man is\nemployed to extract it by chanting an invocation to the maleficent\nspirit, shaking his rattle, and sucking the part of the patient's frame\nin which the cause of the malady is imagined to reside. \"After many\nceremonies he will produce from his mouth some strange substance, such\nas a thorn or gravel-stone, a fish-bone or bird's claw, a snake's tooth,\nor a piece of wire, which some malicious _yauhahu_ is supposed to have\ninserted in the affected part. As soon as the patient fancies himself\nrid of this cause of his illness his recovery is generally rapid, and\nthe fame of the sorcerer greatly increased. Should death, however,\nensue, the blame is laid upon the evil spirit whose power and malignity\nhave prevailed over the counteracting charms. Some rival sorcerer will\nat times come in for a share of the blame, whom the sufferer has\nunhappily made his enemy, and who is supposed to have employed the\n_yauhahu_ in destroying him. The sorcerers being supposed to have the\npower of causing, as well as of curing diseases, are much dreaded by the\ncommon people, who never wilfully offend them. So deeply rooted in the\nIndian's bosom is this belief concerning the origin of diseases, that\nthey have little idea of sickness arising from other causes. Death may\narise from a wound or a contusion, or be brought on by want of food, but\nin other cases it is the work of the _yauhahu_\"[12] or evil spirit.\n\n[Sidenote: Some deaths attributed to sorcery and others to evil spirits:\npractical consequence of this distinction.]\n\nIn this account it is to be observed that while all natural deaths from\nsickness and disease are attributed to the direct action of evil\nspirits, only some of them are attributed to the indirect action of\nsorcerers. The practical consequences of this theoretical distinction\nare very important. For whereas death by sorcery must, in the opinion of\nsavages, be avenged by killing the supposed sorcerer, death by the\naction of a demon cannot be so avenged; for how are you to get at the\ndemon? Hence, while every death by sorcery involves, theoretically at\nleast, another death by violence, death by a demon involves no such\npractical consequence. So far, therefore, the faith in sorcery is far\nmore murderous than the faith in demons. This practical distinction is\nclearly recognised by these Indians of Guiana; for another writer, who\nlaboured among them as a missionary, tells us that when a person dies a\nnatural death, the medicine-man is called upon to decide whether he\nperished through the agency of a demon or the agency of a sorcerer. If\nhe decides that the deceased died through the malice of an evil spirit,\nthe body is quietly buried, and no more is thought of the matter. But if\nthe wizard declares that the cause of death was sorcery, the corpse is\nclosely inspected, and if a blue mark is discovered, it is pointed out\nas the spot where the invisible poisoned arrow, discharged by the\nsorcerer, entered the man. The next thing is to detect the culprit. For\nthis purpose a pot containing a decoction of leaves is set to boil on a\nfire. When it begins to boil over, the side on which the scum first\nfalls is the quarter in which the supposed murderer is to be sought. A\nconsultation is then held: the guilt is laid on some individual, and one\nof the nearest relations of the deceased is charged with the duty of\nfinding and killing him. If the imaginary culprit cannot be found, any\nother member of his family may be slain in his stead. \"It is not\ndifficult to conceive,\" adds the writer, \"how, under such circumstances,\nno man's life is secure; whilst these by no means unfrequent murders\nmust greatly tend to diminish the number of the natives.\"[13]\n\n[Sidenote: Among the Indians of Guiana death is oftener attributed to\nsorcery than to demons.]\n\nHowever, it would seem that among the Indians of Guiana sickness and\ndeath are oftener ascribed to the agency of sorcerers than to the agency\nof demons acting alone. For another high authority on these Indians, Sir\nEverard F. im Thurn, tells us that \"every death, every illness, is\nregarded not as the result of natural law, but as the work of a\n_kenaima_\" or sorcerer. \"Often indeed,\" he adds, \"the survivors or the\nrelatives of the invalid do not know to whom to attribute the deed,\nwhich therefore perforce remains unpunished; but often, again, there is\nreal or fancied reason to fix on some one as the _kenaima_, and then the\nnearest relative of the injured individual devotes himself to retaliate.\nStrange ceremonies are sometimes observed in order to discover the\nsecret _kenaima_. Richard Schomburgk describes a striking instance of\nthis. A Macusi boy had died a natural death, and his relatives\nendeavoured to discover the quarter to which the _kenaima_ who was\nsupposed to have slain him belonged. Raising a terrible and monotonous\ndirge, they carried the body to an open piece of ground, and there\nformed a circle round it, while the father, cutting from the corpse both\nthe thumbs and little fingers, both the great and the little toes, and a\npiece of each heel, threw these pieces into a new pot, which had been\nfilled with water. A fire was kindled, and on this the pot was placed.\nWhen the water began to boil, according to the side on which one of the\npieces was first thrown out from the pot by the bubbling of the water,\nin that direction would the _kenaima_ be. In thus looking round to see\nwho did the deed, the Indian thinks it by no means necessary to fix on\nanyone who has been with or near the injured man. The _kenaima_ is\nsupposed to have done the deed, not necessarily in person, but probably\nin spirit.\"[14] For these Indians believe that each individual man has a\nbody and a spirit within it, and that sorcerers can despatch their\nspirits out of their bodies to harm people at a distance. It is not\nalways in an invisible form that these spirits of sorcerers are supposed\nto roam on their errands of mischief. The wizard can put his spirit into\nthe shape of an animal, such as a jaguar, a serpent, a sting-ray, a\nbird, an insect, or anything else he pleases. Hence when an Indian is\nattacked by a wild beast, he thinks that his real foe is not the animal,\nbut the sorcerer who has transformed himself into it. Curiously enough\nthey look upon some small harmless birds in the same light. One little\nbird, in particular, which flits across the savannahs with a peculiar\nshrill whistle at morning and evening, is regarded by the Indians with\nespecial fear as a transformed sorcerer. They think that for every one\nof these birds that they shoot they have an enemy the less, and they\nburn its little body, taking great care that not even a single feather\nescapes to be blown about by the wind. On a windy day a dozen men and\nwomen have been seen chasing the floating feathers of these birds about\nthe savannah in order utterly to extinguish the imaginary wizard. Even\nthe foreign substance, the stick, bone, or whatever it is, which the\ngood medicine-man pretends to suck from the body of the sufferer \"is\noften, if not always, regarded not simply as a natural body, but as the\nmaterialised form of a hostile spirit.\"[15]\n\n[Sidenote: Belief of the Tinneh Indians in sorcery as the cause of\ndeath.]\n\nBeliefs and practices of the same general character are reported to have\nformerly prevailed among the Tinneh or Dene Indians of North-west\nAmerica. When any beloved or influential person died, nobody, we are\ntold, would think of attributing the death to natural causes; it was\nassumed that the demise was an effect of sorcery, and the only\ndifficulty was to ascertain the culprit. For that purpose the services\nof a shaman were employed. Rigged out in all his finery he would dance\nand sing, then suddenly fall down and feign death or sleep. On awaking\nfrom the apparent trance he would denounce the sorcerer who had killed\nthe deceased by his magic art, and the denunciation generally proved the\ndeath-warrant of the accused.[16]\n\n[Sidenote: Belief of the Australian aborigines in sorcery as the cause\nof death.]\n\nAgain, similar beliefs and customs in regard to what we should call\nnatural death appear to have prevailed universally amongst the\naborigines of Australia, and to have contributed very materially to thin\nthe population. On this subject I will quote the words of an observer.\nHis remarks apply to the Australian aborigines in general but to the\ntribes of Victoria in particular. He says: \"The natives are much more\nnumerous in some parts of Australia than they are in others, but nowhere\nis the country thickly peopled; some dire disease occasionally breaks\nout among the natives, and carries off large numbers.... But there are\ntwo other causes which, in my opinion, principally account for their\npaucity of numbers. The first is that infanticide is universally\npractised; the second, that a belief exists that no one can die a\nnatural death. Thus, if an individual of a certain tribe dies, his\nrelatives consider that his death has been caused by sorcery on the part\nof another tribe. The deceased's sons, or nearest relatives, therefore\nstart off on a _bucceening_ or murdering expedition. If the deceased is\nburied, a fly or a beetle is put into the grave, and the direction in\nwhich the insect wings its way when released is the one the avengers\ntake. If the body is burnt, the whereabouts of the offending parties is\nindicated by the direction of the smoke. The first unfortunates fallen\nin with are generally watched until they encamp for the night; when they\nare buried in sleep, the murderers steal quietly up until they are\nwithin a yard or two of their victims, rush suddenly upon and butcher\nthem. On these occasions they always abstract the kidney-fat, and also\ntake off a piece of the skin of the thigh. These are carried home as\ntrophies, as the American Indians take the scalp. The murderers anoint\ntheir bodies with the fat of their victims, thinking that by that\nprocess the strength of the deceased enters into them. Sometimes it\nhappens that the _bucceening_ party come suddenly upon a man of a\nstrange tribe in a tree hunting opossums; he is immediately speared, and\nleft weltering in his blood at the foot of the tree. The relatives of\nthe murdered man at once proceed to retaliate; and thus a constant and\nnever-ending series of murders is always going on.... I do not mean to\nassert that for every man that dies or is killed another is murdered;\nfor it often happens that the deceased has no sons or relatives who care\nabout avenging his death. At other times a _bucceening_ party will\nreturn without having met with any one; then, again, they are sometimes\nrepelled by those they attack.\"[17]\n\n[Sidenote: Belief of the natives of Western Australia in sorcery as a\ncause of death. Beliefs of the tribes of Victoria and South Australia.]\n\nAgain, speaking of the tribes of Western Australia, Sir George Grey\ntells us that \"the natives do not allow that there is such a thing as a\ndeath from natural causes; they believe, that were it not for murderers\nor the malignity of sorcerers, they might live for ever; hence, when a\nnative dies from the effect of an accident, or from some natural cause,\nthey use a variety of superstitious ceremonies, to ascertain in what\ndirection the sorcerer lives, whose evil practices have brought about\nthe death of their relative; this point being satisfactorily settled by\nfriendly sorcerers, they then attach the crime to some individual, and\nthe funeral obsequies are scarcely concluded, ere they start to revenge\ntheir supposed wrongs.\"[18] Again, speaking of the Watch-an-die tribe of\nWestern Australia, another writer tells us that they \"possess the\ncomfortable assurance that nearly all diseases, and consequently deaths,\nare caused by the enchantments of hostile tribes, and that were it not\nfor the malevolence of their enemies they would (with a few exceptions)\nlive for ever. Consequently, on the first approach of sickness their\nfirst endeavour is to ascertain whether the _boollia_ [magic] of their\nown tribe is not sufficiently potent to counteract that of their foes.\nShould the patient recover, they are, of course, proud of the\nsuperiority of their enchantment over that of their enemies: but should\nthe _boollia_ [magical influence] within the sick man prove stronger\nthan their own, as there is no help for it, he must die, the utmost they\ncan do in this case is to revenge his death.\"[19] But the same writer\nqualifies this general statement as follows: \"It is not true,\" he says,\n\"that the New Hollanders impute _all_ natural deaths to the _boollia_\n[magic] of inimical tribes, for in most cases of persons wasting visibly\naway before death, they do not entertain the notion. It is chiefly in\ncases of sudden death, or when the body of the deceased is fat and in\ngood condition, that this belief prevails, and it is only in such\ncontingencies that it becomes an imperative duty to have revenge.\"[20]\nSimilarly, speaking of the tribes of Victoria in the early days of\nEuropean settlement among them, the experienced observer Mr. James\nDawson says that \"natural deaths are generally--but not\nalways--attributed to the malevolence and the spells of an enemy\nbelonging to another tribe.\"[21] Again, with regard to the Encounter Bay\ntribe of South Australia we read that \"there are but few diseases which\nthey regard as the consequences of natural causes; in general they\nconsider them the effects of enchantment, and produced by\nsorcerers.\"[22] Similarly of the Port Lincoln tribes in South Australia\nit is recorded that \"in all cases of death that do not arise from old\nage, wounds, or other equally palpable causes, the natives suspect that\nunfair means have been practised; and even where the cause of death is\nsufficiently plain, they sometimes will not content themselves with it,\nbut have recourse to an imaginary one, as the following case will\nprove:--A woman had been bitten by a black snake, across the thumb, in\nclearing out a well; she began to swell directly, and was a corpse in\ntwenty-four hours; yet, another woman who had been present when the\naccident occurred, stated that the deceased had named a certain native\nas having caused her death. Upon this statement, which was in their\nopinion corroborated by the circumstance that the snake had drawn no\nblood from the deceased, her husband and other friends had a fight with\nthe accused party and his friends; a reconciliation, however, took place\nafterwards, and it was admitted on the part of the aggressors that they\nhad been in error with regard to the guilty individual; but nowise more\nsatisfied as to the bite of the snake being the true cause of the\nwoman's death, another party was now suddenly discovered to be the real\noffender, and accordingly war was made upon him and his partisans, till\nat last the matter was dropped and forgotten. From this case, as well as\nfrom frequent occurrences of a similar nature, it appears evident that\nthirst for revenge has quite as great a share in these foul accusations\nas superstition.\"[23]\n\n[Sidenote: Other testimonies as to the belief of the natives of South\nAustralia and Victoria.]\n\nHowever, other experienced observers of the Australian aborigines admit\nno such limitations and exceptions to the native theory that death is an\neffect of sorcery. Thus in regard to the Narrinyeri tribe of South\nAustralia the Rev. George Taplin, who knew them intimately for years,\nsays that \"no native regards death as natural, but always as the result\nof sorcery.\"[24] Again, to quote Mr. R. Brough Smyth, who has collected\nmuch information on the tribes of Victoria: \"Mr. Daniel Bunce, an\nintelligent observer, and a gentleman well acquainted with the habits of\nthe blacks, says that no tribe that he has ever met with believes in the\npossibility of a man dying a natural death. If a man is taken ill, it is\nat once assumed that some member of a hostile tribe has stolen some of\nhis hair. This is quite enough to cause serious illness. If the man\ncontinues sick and gets worse, it is assumed that the hair has been\nburnt by his enemy. Such an act, they say, is sufficient to imperil his\nlife. If the man dies, it is assumed that the thief has choked his\nvictim and taken away his kidney-fat. When the grave is being dug, one\nor more of the older men--generally doctors or conjurors\n(_Buk-na-look_)--stand by and attentively watch the laborers; and if an\ninsect is thrown out of the ground, these old men observe the direction\nwhich it takes, and having determined the line, two of the young men,\nrelations of the deceased, are despatched in the path indicated, with\ninstructions to kill the first native they meet, who they are assured\nand believe is the person directly chargeable with the crime of causing\nthe death of their relative. Mr. John Green says that the men of the\nYarra tribe firmly believe that no one ever dies a natural death. A man\nor a woman dies because of the wicked arts practised by some member of a\nhostile tribe; and they discover the direction in which to search for\nthe slayer by the movements of a lizard which is seen immediately after\nthe corpse is interred.\"[25] Again, speaking of the aborigines of\nVictoria, another writer observes: \"All deaths from natural causes are\nattributed to the machinations of enemies, who are supposed to have\nsought for and burned the excrement of the intended victim, which,\naccording to the general belief, causes a gradual wasting away. The\nrelatives, therefore, watch the struggling feet of the dying person, as\nthey point in the direction whence the injury is thought to come, and\nserve as a guide to the spot where it should be avenged. This is the\nduty of the nearest male relative; should he fail in its execution, it\nwill ever be to him a reproach, although other relatives may have\navenged the death. If the deceased were a chief, then the duty devolves\nupon the tribe. Chosen men are sent in the direction indicated, who kill\nthe first persons they meet, whether men, women, or children; and the\nmore lives that are sacrificed, the greater is the honour to the\ndead.\"[26] Again, in his account of the Kurnai tribe of Victoria the\nlate Dr. A. W. Howitt remarks: \"It is not difficult to see how, among\nsavages, who have no knowledge of the real causes of diseases which are\nthe common lot of humanity, the very suspicion even of such a thing as\ndeath from disease should be unknown. Death by accident they can\nimagine; death by violence they can imagine; but I question if they can,\nin their savage condition, imagine death by mere disease. Rheumatism is\nbelieved to be produced by the machinations of some enemy. Seeing a\nTatungolung very lame, I asked him what was the matter? He said, 'Some\nfellow has put _bottle_ in my foot.' I asked him to let me see it. I\nfound he was probably suffering from acute rheumatism. He explained that\nsome enemy must have found his foot track, and have buried in it a piece\nof broken bottle. The magic influence, he believed, caused it to enter\nhis foot.... Phthisis, pneumonia, bowel complaints, and insanity are\nsupposed to be produced by an evil spirit--Brewin--'who is like the\nwind,' and who, entering his victims, can only be expelled by suitable\nincantations.... Thus the belief arises that death occurs only from\naccident, open violence, or secret magic; and, naturally, that the\nlatter can only be met by counter-charms.\"[27]\n\n[Sidenote: Belief of the aborigines of New South Wales in sorcery as the\ncause of sickness and death.]\n\nThe beliefs and practices of the aborigines of New South Wales in\nrespect of death were similar. Thus we are told by a well-informed\nwriter that \"the natives do not believe in death from natural causes;\ntherefore all sickness is attributed to the agency of sorcery, and\ncounter charms are used to destroy its effect.... As a man's death is\nnever supposed to have occurred naturally, except as the result of\naccident, or from a wound in battle, the first thing to be done when a\ndeath occurs is to endeavour to find out the person whose spells have\nbrought about the calamity. In the Wathi-Wathi tribe the corpse is asked\nby each relative in succession to signify by some sign the person who\nhas caused his death. Not receiving an answer, they watch in which\ndirection a bird flies, after having passed over the deceased. This is\nconsidered an indication that the sorcerer is to be found in that\ndirection. Sometimes the nearest relative sleeps with his head on the\ncorpse, which causes him, they think, to dream of the murderer. There\nis, however, a good deal of uncertainty about the proceedings, which\nseldom result in more than a great display of wrath, and of vowing of\nvengeance against some member of a neighbouring tribe. Unfortunately\nthis is not always the case, the man who is supposed to have exercised\nthe death-spell being sometimes waylaid and murdered in a most cruel\nmanner.\"[28] With regard to the great Kamilaroi tribe of New South Wales\nwe read that \"in some parts of the country a belief prevails that death,\nthrough disease, is, in many, if not in all cases, the result of an\nenemy's malice. It is a common saying, when illness or death comes, that\nsome one has thrown his belt (_boor_) at the victim. There are various\nmodes of fixing upon the murderer. One is to let an insect fly from the\nbody of the deceased and see towards whom it goes. The person thus\nsingled out is doomed.\"[29]\n\n[Sidenote: Belief of the aborigines of Central Australia in sorcery as\nthe cause of death.]\n\nSpeaking of the tribes of Central Australia, Messrs. Spencer and Gillen\nobserve that \"in the matter of morality their code differs radically\nfrom ours, but it cannot be denied that their conduct is governed by it,\nand that any known breaches are dealt with both surely and severely. In\nvery many cases there takes place what the white man, not seeing beneath\nthe surface, not unnaturally describes as secret murder, but, in\nreality, revolting though such slaughter may be to our minds at the\npresent day, it is simply exactly on a par with the treatment accorded\nto witches not so very long ago in European countries. Every case of\nsuch secret murder, when one or more men stealthily stalk their prey\nwith the object of killing him, is in reality the exacting of a life for\na life, the accused person being indicated by the so-called medicine-man\nas one who has brought about the death of another man by magic, and\nwhose life must therefore be forfeited. It need hardly be pointed out\nwhat a potent element this custom has been in keeping down the numbers\nof the tribe; no such thing as natural death is realised by the native;\na man who dies has of necessity been killed by some other man, or\nperhaps even by a woman, and sooner or later that man or woman will be\nattacked. In the normal condition of the tribe every death meant the\nkilling of another individual.\"[30]\n\n[Sidenote: Belief of the natives of the Torres Straits Islands and New\nGuinea in sorcery as the cause of death.]\n\nPassing from Australia to other savage lands we learn that according to\nthe belief of the Torres Straits Islanders all sickness and death were\ndue to sorcery.[31] The natives of Mowat or Mawatta in British New\nGuinea \"do not believe in a natural death, but attribute even the\ndecease of an old man to the agency of some enemy known or unknown.\"[32]\nIn the opinion of the tribes about Hood Peninsula in British New Guinea\nno one dies a natural death. Every such death is caused by the evil\nmagic either of a living sorcerer or of a dead relation.[33] Of the\nRoro-speaking tribes of British New Guinea Dr. Seligmann writes that\n\"except in the case of old folk, death is not admitted to occur without\nsome obvious cause such as a spear-thrust. Therefore when vigorous and\nactive members of the community die, it becomes necessary to explain\ntheir fate, and such deaths are firmly believed to be produced by\nsorcery. Indeed, as far as I have been able to ascertain, the Papuasian\nof this district regards the existence of sorcery, not, as has been\nalleged, as a particularly terrifying and horrible affair, but as a\nnecessary and inevitable condition of existence in the world as he knows\nit.\"[34] Amongst the Yabim of German New Guinea \"every case of death,\neven though it should happen accidentally, as by the fall of a tree or\nthe bite of a shark, is laid at the door of the sorcerers. They are\nblamed even for the death of a child. If it is said that a little child\nnever hurt anybody and therefore cannot have an enemy, the reply is that\nthe intention was to injure the mother, and that the malady had been\ntransferred to the infant through its mother's milk.\"[35]\n\n[Sidenote: Belief of the Melanesians in sorcery as the cause of sickness\nand death.]\n\nAgain, in the island of Malo, one of the New Hebrides, a Catholic\nmissionary reports that according to a belief deeply implanted in the\nnative mind every disease is the effect of witchcraft, and that nobody\ndies a natural death but only as a consequence of violence, poison, or\nsorcery.[36] Similarly in New Georgia, one of the Solomon Islands, when\na person is sick, the natives think that he must be bewitched by a man\nor woman, for in their opinion nobody can be sick or die unless he is\nbewitched; what we call natural sickness and death are impossible. In\ncase of illness suspicion falls on some one who is supposed to have\nburied a charmed object with intent to injure the sufferer.[37] Of the\nMelanesians who inhabit the coast of the Gazelle Peninsula in New\nBritain it is said that all deaths by sickness or disease are attributed\nby them to the witchcraft of a sorcerer, and a diviner is called in to\nascertain the culprit who by his evil magic has destroyed their\nfriends.[38] \"Amongst the Melanesians few, if any, are believed to die\nfrom natural causes only; if they are not killed in war, they are\nsupposed to die from the effects of witchcraft or magic. Whenever any\none was sick, his friends made anxious inquiries as to the person who\nhad bewitched (_agara'd_) him. Some one would generally be found to\nadmit that he had buried some portion of food or something belonging to\nthe sick man, which had caused his illness. The friends would pay him to\ndig it up, and after that the patient would generally get well. If,\nhowever, he did not recover, it was assumed that some other person had\nalso _agara'd_ him.\"[39]\n\n[Sidenote: The belief of the Malagasy in sorcery as a cause of death.]\n\nSpeaking of the Malagasy a Catholic missionary tells us that in\nMadagascar nobody dies a natural death. With the possible exception of\ncentenarians everybody is supposed to die the victim of the sorcerer's\ndiabolic art. If a relation of yours dies, the people comfort you by\nsaying, \"Cursed be the sorcerer who caused his death!\" If your horse\nfalls down a precipice and breaks its back, the accident has been caused\nby the malicious look of a sorcerer. If your dog dies of hydrophobia or\nyour horse of a carbuncle, the cause is still the same. If you catch a\nfever in a district where malaria abounds, the malady is still ascribed\nto the art of the sorcerer, who has insinuated some deadly substances\ninto your body.[40] Again, speaking of the Sakalava, a tribe in\nMadagascar, an eminent French authority on the island observes: \"They\nhave such a faith in the power of talismans that they even ascribe to\nthem the power of killing their enemies. When they speak of poisoning,\nthey do not allude, as many Europeans wrongly suppose, to death by\nvegetable or mineral poisons; the reference is to charms or spells. They\noften throw under the bed of an enemy an _ahouli_ [talisman], praying it\nto kill him, and they are persuaded that sooner or later their wish will\nbe accomplished. I have often been present at bloody vendettas which had\nno other origin but this. The Sakalava think that a great part of the\npopulation dies of poison in this way. In their opinion, only old people\nwho have attained the extreme limits of human longevity die a natural\ndeath.\"[41]\n\n[Sidenote: Belief of African tribes in sorcery as the cause of sickness\nand death.]\n\nIn Africa similar beliefs are widely spread and lead, as elsewhere, to\nfatal consequences. Thus the Kagoro of Northern Nigeria refuse to\nbelieve in death from natural causes; all illnesses and deaths, in their\nopinion, are brought about by black magic, however old and decrepit the\ndeceased may have been. They explain sickness by saying that a man's\nsoul wanders from his body in sleep and may then be caught, detained,\nand even beaten with a stick by some evil-wisher; whenever that happens,\nthe man naturally falls ill. Sometimes an enemy will abstract the\npatient's liver by magic and carry it away to a cave in a sacred grove,\nwhere he will devour it in company with other wicked sorcerers. A\nwitch-doctor is called in to detect the culprit, and whomever he\ndenounces is shut up in a room, where a fire is kindled and pepper\nthrown into it; and there he is kept in the fumes of the burning pepper\ntill he confesses his guilt and returns the stolen liver, upon which of\ncourse the sick man recovers. But should the patient die, the miscreant\nwho did him to death by kidnapping his soul or his liver will be sold as\na slave or choked.[42] In like manner the Bakerewe, who inhabit the\nlargest island in the Victoria Nyanza lake, believe that all deaths and\nall ailments, however trivial, are the effect of witchcraft; and the\nperson, generally an old woman, whom the witch-doctor accuses of having\ncast the spell on the patient is tied up, severely beaten, or stabbed to\ndeath on the spot.[43] Again, we are told that \"the peoples of the Congo\ndo not believe in a natural death, not even when it happens through\ndrowning or any other accident. Whoever dies is the victim of witchcraft\nor of a spell. His soul has been eaten. He must be avenged by the\npunishment of the person who has committed the crime.\" Accordingly when\na death has taken place, the medicine-man is sent for to discover the\ncriminal. He pretends to be possessed by a spirit and in this state he\nnames the wretch who has caused the death by sorcery. The accused has to\nsubmit to the poison ordeal by drinking a decoction of the red bark of\nthe _Erythrophloeum guiniense_. If he vomits up the poison, he is\ninnocent; but if he fails to do so, the infuriated crowd rushes on him\nand despatches him with knives and clubs. The family of the supposed\nculprit has moreover to pay an indemnity to the family of the supposed\nvictim.[44] \"Death, in the opinion of the natives, is never due to a\nnatural cause. It is always the result either of a crime or of sorcery,\nand is followed by the poison ordeal, which has to be undergone by an\ninnocent person whom the fetish-man accuses from selfish motives.\"[45]\n\n[Sidenote: Effect of such beliefs in thinning the population by causing\nmultitudes to die for the imaginary crime of sorcery.]\n\nEvidence of the same sort could be multiplied for West Africa, where the\nfear of sorcery is rampant.[46] But without going into further details,\nI wish to point out the disastrous effects which here, as elsewhere,\nthis theory of death has produced upon the population. For when a death\nfrom natural causes takes place, the author of the death being of course\nunknown, suspicion often falls on a number of people, all of whom are\nobliged to submit to the poison ordeal in order to prove their\ninnocence, with the result that some or possibly all of them perish. A\nvery experienced American missionary in West Africa, the Rev. R. H.\nNassau, the friend of the late Miss Mary H. Kingsley, tells us that for\nevery person who dies a natural death at least one, and often ten or\nmore have been executed on an accusation of witchcraft.[47] Andrew\nBattel, a native of Essex, who lived in Angola for many years at the end\nof the sixteenth and beginning of the seventeenth century, informs us\nthat \"in this country none on any account dieth, but they kill another\nfor him: for they believe they die not their own natural death, but that\nsome other has bewitched them to death. And all those are brought in by\nthe friends of the dead whom they suspect; so that there many times come\nfive hundred men and women to take the drink, made of the foresaid root\n_imbando_. They are brought all to the high-street or market-place, and\nthere the master of the _imbando_ sits with his water, and gives every\none a cup of water by one measure; and they are commanded to walk in a\ncertain place till they make water, and then they are free. But he that\ncannot urine presently falls down, and all the people, great and small,\nfall upon him with their knives, and beat and cut him into pieces. But I\nthink the witch that gives the water is partial, and gives to him whose\ndeath is desired the strongest water, but no man of the bye-standers can\nperceive it. This is done in the town of Longo, almost every week\nthroughout the year.\"[48] A French official tells us that among the\nNeyaux of the Ivory Coast similar beliefs and practices were visibly\ndepopulating the country, every single natural death causing the death\nof four or five persons by the poison ordeal, which consisted in\ndrinking the decoction of a red bark called by the natives _boduru_. At\nthe death of a chief fifteen men and women perished in this way. The\nFrench Government had great difficulty in suppressing the ordeal; for\nthe deluded natives firmly believed in the justice of the test and\ntherefore submitted to it willingly in the full consciousness of their\ninnocence.[49] In the neighbourhood of Calabar the poison ordeal, which\nhere consists in drinking a decoction of a certain bean, the\n_Physostigma venenosum_ of botanists, has had similar disastrous\nresults, as we learn from the testimony of a missionary, the Rev. Hugh\nGoldie. He tells us that the people have firm faith in the ordeal and\ntherefore not only accept it readily but appeal to it, convinced that it\nwill demonstrate their innocence. A small tribe named Uwet in the\nhill-country of Calabar almost swept itself off the face of the earth by\nits constant use of the ordeal. On one occasion the whole population\ndrank the poison to prove themselves pure, as they said; about half\nperished, \"and the remnant,\" says Mr. Goldie, \"still continuing their\nsuperstitious practice, must soon become extinct\"[50] These words were\nwritten a good many years ago, and it is probable that by this time\nthese poor fanatics have actually succeeded in exterminating themselves.\nSo fatal may be the practical consequences of a purely speculative\nerror; for it is to be remembered that these disasters flow directly\nfrom a mistaken theory of death.\n\n[Sidenote: General conclusion as to the belief in sorcery as the great\ncause of death.]\n\nMuch more evidence of the same kind could be adduced, but without\npursuing the theme further I think we may lay it down as a general rule\nthat at a certain stage of social and intellectual evolution men have\nbelieved themselves to be naturally immortal in this life and have\nregarded death by disease or even by accident or violence as an\nunnatural event which has been brought about by sorcery and which must\nbe avenged by the death of the sorcerer. If that has been so, we seem\nbound to conclude that a belief in magic or sorcery has had a most\npotent influence in keeping down the numbers of savage tribes; since as\na rule every natural death has entailed at least one, often several,\nsometimes many deaths by violence. This may help us to understand what\nan immense power for evil the world-wide faith in magic or sorcery has\nbeen among men.\n\n[Sidenote: But some savages have attributed death to other causes than\nsorcery.]\n\nBut even savages come in time to perceive that deaths are sometimes\nbrought about by other causes than sorcery. We have seen that some of\nthem admit extreme old age, accidents, and violence as causes of death\nwhich are independent of sorcery. The admission of these exceptions to\nthe general rule certainly marks a stage of intellectual progress. I\nwill give a few more instances of such admissions before concluding this\npart of my subject.\n\n[Sidenote: Some savages dissect the corpse to ascertain whether death\nwas due to natural causes or to sorcery.]\n\nIn the first place, certain savage tribes are reported to dissect the\nbodies of their dead in order to ascertain from an examination of the\ncorpse whether the deceased died a natural death or perished by magic.\nThis is reported by Mr. E. R. Smith concerning the Araucanians of Chili,\nwho according to other writers, as we saw,[51] believe all deaths to be\ndue to sorcery. Mr. Smith tells us that after death the services of the\n_machi_ or medicine-man \"are again required, especially if the deceased\nbe a person of distinction. The body is dissected and examined. If the\nliver be found in a healthy state, the death is attributed to natural\ncauses; but if the liver prove to be inflamed, it is supposed to\nindicate the machinations of some evil-intentioned persons, and it rests\nwith the medicine-man to discover the conspirator. This is accomplished\nby much the same means that were used to find out the nature of the\ndisease. The gall is extracted, put in the magic drum, and after various\nincantations taken out and placed over the fire, in a pot carefully\ncovered; if, after subjecting the gall to a certain amount of roasting,\na stone is found in the bottom of the pot, it is declared to be the\nmeans by which death was produced. These stones, as well as the frogs,\nspiders, arrows, or whatever else may be extracted from the sick man,\nare called _Huecuvu_--the 'Evil One.' By aid of the _Huecuvu_ the\n_machi_ [medicine-man] throws himself into a trance, in which state he\ndiscovers and announces the person guilty of the death, and describes\nthe manner in which it was produced.\"[52]\n\nAgain, speaking of the Pahouins, a tribe of the Gaboon region in French\nCongo, a Catholic missionary writes thus: \"It is so rare among the\nPahouins that a death is considered natural! Scarcely has the deceased\ngiven up the ghost when the sorcerer appears on the scene. With three\ncuts of the knife, one transverse and two lateral, he dissects the\nbreast of the corpse and turns down the skin on the face. Then he\ngrabbles in the breast, examines the bowels attentively, marks the last\nmuscular contractions, and thereupon pronounces whether the death was\nnatural or not.\" If he decides that the death was due to sorcery, the\nsuspected culprit has to submit to the poison ordeal in the usual manner\nto determine his guilt or innocence.[53]\n\n[Sidenote: The possibility of natural death admitted by the\nMelanesians.]\n\nAnother savage people who have come to admit the possibility of merely\nnatural death are the Melanesians of the New Hebrides and other parts of\nCentral Melanesia. Amongst them \"any sickness that is serious is\nbelieved to be brought about by ghosts or spirits; common complaints\nsuch as fever and ague are taken as coming in the course of nature. To\nsay that savages are never ill without supposing a supernatural cause is\nnot true of Melanesians; they make up their minds as the sickness comes\nwhether it is natural or not, and the more important the individual who\nis sick, the more likely his sickness is to be ascribed to the anger of\na ghost whom he has offended, or to witchcraft. No great man would like\nto be told that he was ill by natural weakness or decay. The sickness is\nalmost always believed to be caused by a ghost, not by a spirit....\nGenerally it is to the ghosts of the dead that sickness is ascribed in\nthe eastern islands as well as in the western; recourse is had to them\nfor aid in causing and removing sickness; and ghosts are believed to\ninflict sickness not only because some offence, such as a trespass, has\nbeen committed against them, or because one familiar with them has\nsought their aid with sacrifice and spells, but because there is a\ncertain malignity in the feeling of all ghosts towards the living, who\noffend them by being alive.\"[54] From this account we learn, first, that\nthe Melanesians admit some deaths by common diseases, such as fever and\nague, to be natural; and, second, that they recognise ghosts and spirits\nas well as sorcerers and witches, among the causes of death; indeed they\nhold that ghosts are the commonest of all causes of sickness and death.\n\n[Sidenote: The possibility of natural death admitted by the Caffres of\nSouth Africa.]\n\nThe same causes of death are recognised also by the Caffres of South\nAfrica, as we learn from Mr. Dudley Kidd, who tells us that according to\nthe beliefs of the natives, \"to start with, there is sickness which is\nsupposed to be caused by the action of ancestral spirits or by fabulous\nmonsters. Secondly, there is sickness which is caused by the magical\npractices of some evil person who is using witchcraft in secret.\nThirdly, there is sickness which comes from neither of these causes, and\nremains unexplained. It is said to be 'only sickness, and nothing more.'\nThis third form of sickness is, I think, the commonest. Yet most writers\nwholly ignore it, or deny its existence. It may happen that an attack of\nindigestion is one day attributed to the action of witch or wizard;\nanother day the trouble is put down to the account of ancestral spirits;\non a third occasion the people may be at a loss to account for it, and\nso may dismiss the problem by saying that it is merely sickness. It is\nquite common to hear natives say that they are at a loss to account for\nsome special case of illness. At first they thought it was caused by an\nangry ancestral spirit; but a great doctor has assured them that it is\nnot the result of such a spirit. They then suppose it to be due to the\nmagical practices of some enemy; but the doctor negatives that theory.\nThe people are, therefore, driven to the conclusion that the trouble has\nno ascertainable cause. In some cases they do not even trouble to\nconsult a diviner; they speedily recognise the sickness as due to\nnatural causes. In such a case it needs no explanation. If they think\nthat some friend of theirs knows of a remedy, they will try it on their\nown initiative, or may even go off to a white man to ask for some of his\nmedicine. They would never dream of doing this if they thought they were\nbeing influenced by magic or by ancestral spirits. The Kafirs quite\nrecognise that there are types of disease which are inherited, and have\nnot been caused by magic or by ancestral spirits. They admit that some\naccidents are due to nothing but the patient's carelessness or\nstupidity. If a native gets his leg run over by a waggon, the people\nwill often say that it is all his own fault through being clumsy. In\nother cases, with delightful inconsistency, they may say that some one\nhas been working magic to cause the accident. In short, it is impossible\nto make out a theory of sickness which will satisfy our European\nconception of consistency.\"[55]\n\n[Sidenote: The admission that death may be due to natural causes, marks\nan intellectual advance. The recognition of ghosts or spirits as a cause\nof disease, apart from sorcery, also marks a step in intellectual,\nmoral, and social progress.]\n\nFrom the foregoing accounts we see that the Melanesians and the Caffres,\ntwo widely different and widely separated races, agree in recognising at\nleast three distinct causes of what we should call natural death. These\nthree causes are, first, sorcery or witchcraft; second, ghosts or\nspirits; and third, disease.[56] That the recognition of disease in\nitself as a cause of death, quite apart from sorcery, marks an\nintellectual advance, will not be disputed. It is not so clear, though I\nbelieve it is equally true, that the recognition of ghosts or spirits as\na cause of disease, quite apart from witchcraft, marks a real step in\nintellectual, moral, and social progress. In the first place, it marks a\nstep in intellectual and moral progress; for it recognises that effects\nwhich before had been ascribed to human agency spring from superhuman\ncauses; and this recognition of powers in the universe superior to man\nis not only an intellectual gain but a moral discipline: it teaches the\nimportant lesson of humility. In the second place it marks a step in\nsocial progress because when the blame of a death is laid upon a ghost\nor a spirit instead of on a sorcerer, the death has not to be avenged by\nkilling a human being, the supposed author of the calamity. Thus the\nrecognition of ghosts or spirits as the sources of sickness and death\nhas as its immediate effect the sparing of an immense number of lives of\nmen and women, who on the theory of death by sorcery would have perished\nby violence to expiate their imaginary crime. That this is a great gain\nto society is obvious: it adds immensely to the security of human life\nby removing one of the most fruitful causes of its destruction.\n\nIt must be admitted, however, that the gain is not always as great as\nmight be expected; the social advantages of a belief in ghosts and\nspirits are attended by many serious drawbacks. For while ghosts or\nspirits are commonly, though not always, supposed to be beyond the reach\nof human vengeance, they are generally thought to be well within the\nreach of human persuasion, flattery, and bribery; in other words, men\nthink that they can appease and propitiate them by prayer and sacrifice;\nand while prayer is always cheap, sacrifice may be very dear, since it\ncan, and often does, involve the destruction of an immense deal of\nvaluable property and of a vast number of human lives. Yet if we could\nreckon up the myriads who have been slain in sacrifice to ghosts and\ngods, it seems probable that they would fall far short of the untold\nmultitudes who have perished as sorcerers and witches. For while human\nsacrifices in honour of deities or of the dead have been for the most\npart exceptional rather than regular, only the great gods and the\nillustrious dead being deemed worthy of such costly offerings, the\nslaughter of witches and wizards, theoretically at least, followed\ninevitably on every natural death among people who attributed all such\ndeaths to sorcery. Hence if natural religion be defined roughly as a\nbelief in superhuman spiritual beings and an attempt to propitiate them,\nwe may perhaps say that, while natural religion has slain its thousands,\nmagic has slain its ten thousands. But there are strong reasons for\ninferring that in the history of society an Age of Magic preceded an Age\nof Religion. If that was so, we may conclude that the advent of religion\nmarked a great social as well as intellectual advance upon the preceding\nAge of Magic: it inaugurated an era of what might be described as mercy\nby comparison with the relentless severity of its predecessor.\n\n[Footnote 6: W. Martin, _An Account of the Natives of the Tonga\nIslands_, Second Edition (London, 1818), ii. 99.]\n\n[Footnote 7: M. Dobrizhoffer, _Historia de Abiponibus_ (Vienna, 1784),\nii. 92 _sq._, 240 _sqq._ The author of this valuable work lived as a\nCatholic missionary in the tribe for eighteen years.]\n\n[Footnote 8: C. Gay, \"Fragment d'un Voyage dans le Chili et au Cusco,\"\n_Bulletin de la Societe de Geographie_ (Paris), Deuxieme Serie, xix.\n(1843) p. 25; H. Delaporte, \"Une visite chez les Araucaniens,\" _Bulletin\nde la Societe de Geographie_ (Paris), Quatrieme Serie, x. (1855) p. 30.]\n\n[Footnote 9: K. von den Steinen, _Unter den Naturvoelkern\nZentral-Brasiliens_ (Berlin, 1894), pp. 344, 348.]\n\n[Footnote 10: Rev. W. H. Brett, _The Indian Tribes of Guiana_ (London,\n1868), p. 357.]\n\n[Footnote 11: W. H. Brett, _op. cit._ pp. 361 _sq._]\n\n[Footnote 12: Rev. W. H. Brett, _op. cit._ pp. 364 _sq._]\n\n[Footnote 13: Rev. J. H. Bernau, _Missionary Labours in British Guiana_\n(London, 1847), pp. 56 _sq._, 58.]\n\n[Footnote 14: (Sir) E. F. im Thurn, _Among the Indians of Guiana_\n(London, 1883), pp. 330 _sq._ For the case described see R. Schomburgk,\n_Reisen in Britisch-Guiana_, i. (Leipsic, 1847) pp. 324 _sq._ The boy\ndied of dropsy. Perhaps the mode of divination adopted, by boiling some\nportions of him in water, had special reference to the nature of the\ndisease.]\n\n[Footnote 15: (Sir) E. F. im Thurn, _op. cit._ pp. 332 _sq._]\n\n[Footnote 16: Father A. G. Morice, \"The Canadian Denes,\" _Annual\nArchaeological Report, 1905_ (Toronto, 1906), p. 207.]\n\n[Footnote 17: Albert A. C. Le Souef, \"Notes on the Natives of\nAustralia,\" in R. Brough Smyth's _Aborigines of Victoria_ (Melbourne and\nLondon, 1878), ii. 289 _sq._]\n\n[Footnote 18: (Sir) George Grey, _Journals of two Expeditions of\nDiscovery in Northwest and Western Australia_ (London, 1841), ii. 238.]\n\n[Footnote 19: A. Oldfield, \"The Aborigines of Australia,\" _Transactions\nof the Ethnological Society of London_, N.S. iii. (1865) p. 236.]\n\n[Footnote 20: A. Oldfield, _op. cit._ p. 245.]\n\n[Footnote 21: J. Dawson, _Australian Aborigines_ (Melbourne, Sydney and\nAdelaide, 1881), p. 63.]\n\n[Footnote 22: H. E. A. Meyer, \"Manners and Customs of the Aborigines of\nthe Encounter Bay Tribe,\" _Native Tribes of South Australia_ (Adelaide,\n1879), p. 195.]\n\n[Footnote 23: C. W. Schuermann, \"The Aboriginal Tribes of Port Lincoln in\nSouth Australia,\" _Native Tribes of South Australia_, pp. 237 _sq._]\n\n[Footnote 24: Rev. G. Taplin, \"The Narrinyeri,\" _Native Tribes of South\nAustralia_ (Adelaide, 1879), p. 25.]\n\n[Footnote 25: R. Brough Smyth, _The Aborigines of Victoria_ (Melbourne\nand London, 1878) i. 110.]\n\n[Footnote 26: W. E. Stanbridge, \"Some Particulars of the General\nCharacteristics, Astronomy, and Mythology of the Tribes in the Central\nPart of Victoria, Southern Australia,\" _Transactions of the Ethnological\nSociety of London_, New Series, i. (1861) p. 299.]\n\n[Footnote 27: Lorimer Fison and A. W. Howitt, _Kamilaroi and Kurnai_\n(Melbourne, Sydney, Adelaide, and Brisbane, 1880), pp. 250 _sq._]\n\n[Footnote 28: A. L. P. Cameron, \"Notes on some Tribes of New South\nWales,\" _Journal of the Anthropological Institute_ xiv. (1885) pp. 361,\n362 _sq._]\n\n[Footnote 29: Rev. W. Ridley, _Kamilaroi_, Second Edition (Sydney,\n1875), p. 159.]\n\n[Footnote 30: Baldwin Spencer and F. J. Gillen, _Native Tribes of\nCentral Australia_ (London, 1899), pp. 46-48.]\n\n[Footnote 31: _Reports of the Cambridge Anthropological Expedition to\nTorres Straits_, v. (Cambridge, 1904) pp. 248, 323.]\n\n[Footnote 32: E. Beardmore, \"The Natives of Mowat, British New Guinea,\"\n_Journal of the Anthropological Institute_, xix. (1890) p. 461.]\n\n[Footnote 33: R. E. Guise, \"On the Tribes inhabiting the Mouth of the\nWanigela River, New Guinea,\" _Journal of the Anthropological Institute_,\nxxviii. (1899) p. 216.]\n\n[Footnote 34: C. G. Seligmann, _The Melanesians of British New Guinea_\n(Cambridge, 1910), p. 279.]\n\n[Footnote 35: K. Vetter, _Komm herueber und hilf uns! oder die Arbeit der\nNeuen-Dettelsauer Mission_, iii. (Barmen, 1898) pp. 10 _sq._; _id._, in\n_Nachrichten ueber Kaiser-Wilhelms-Land und den Bismarck-Archipel, 1897_,\npp. 94, 98. Compare B. Hagen, _Unter den Papuas_ (Wiesbaden, 1899), p.\n256; _Verhandlungen der Berliner Gesellschaft fuer Anthropologie,\nEthnologie, und Urgeschichte, 1900_, p. (415).]\n\n[Footnote 36: Father A. Deniau, \"Croyances religieuses et moeurs des\nindigenes de l'Ile Malo,\" _Missions Catholiques_, xxxiii. (1901) pp. 315\n_sq._]\n\n[Footnote 37: C. Ribbe, _Zwei Jahre unter den Kannibalen der\nSalomo-Inseln_ (Dresden-Blasewitz, 1903), p. 268.]\n\n[Footnote 38: P. A. Kleintitschen, _Die Kuestenbewohner der\nGazellehalbinsel_ (Hiltrup bei Muenster, N.D.), p. 344. As to beliefs of\nthis sort among the Sulka of New Britain, see _P._ Rascher, \"Die Sulka,\"\n_Archiv fuer Anthropologie_, xxix. (1904) pp. 221 _sq._; R. Parkinson,\n_Dreissig Jahre in der Suedsee_ (Stuttgart, 1907), pp. 199-201.]\n\n[Footnote 39: G. Brown, D.D., _Melanesians and Polynesians_ (London,\n1910), p. 176. Dr. Brown's account, of the Melanesians applies to the\nnatives of New Britain and more particularly of the neighbouring Duke of\nYork islands.]\n\n[Footnote 40: Father Abinal, \"Astrologie Malgache,\" _Missions\nCatholiques_, xi. (1879) p. 506.]\n\n[Footnote 41: A. Grandidier, \"Madagascar,\" _Bulletin de la Societe de\nGeographie_ (Paris), Sixieme Serie, iii. (1872) pp. 399 _sq._ The\ntalismans (_ahouli_) in question consist of the horns of oxen stuffed\nwith a variety of odds and ends, such as sand, sticks, nails, and so\nforth.]\n\n[Footnote 42: Major A. J. N. Tremearne, _The Tailed Head-hunters of\nNigeria_ (London, 1912), pp. 171 _sq._; _id._, \"Notes on the Kagoro and\nother Headhunters,\" _Journal of the Royal Anthropological Institute_,\nxlii. (1912) pp. 160, 161.]\n\n[Footnote 43: E. Hurel, \"Religion et vie domestique des Bakerewe,\"\n_Anthropos_, vi. (1912) pp. 85-87.]\n\n[Footnote 44: Father Campana, \"Congo Mission Catholique de Landana,\"\n_Missions Catholiques_, xxvii. (1895) pp. 102 _sq_.]\n\n[Footnote 45: Th. Masui, _Guide de la Section de l'Etat Independant du\nCongo a l'Exposition de Bruxelles--Tervueren en 1874_ (Brussels, 1897),\np. 82.]\n\n[Footnote 46: See for example O. Lenz, _Skizzen aus Westafrika_ (Berlin,\n1878), pp. 184 _sq._; C. Cuny, \"De Libreville au Cameroun,\" _Bulletin de\nla Societe de Geographie_ (Paris), Septieme Serie, xvii. (1896) p. 341;\nCh. Wunenberger, \"La mission et le royaume de Humbe, sur les bords du\nCunene,\" _Missions Catholiques_, xx. (1888) p. 262; Lieut. Herold,\n\"Bericht betreffend religioese Anschauungen und Gebraeuche der deutschen\nEwe-Neger,\" _Mittheilungen aus den deutschen Schutzgebieten_, v. (1892)\np. 153; Dr. R. Plehn, \"Beitraege zur Voelkerkunde des Togo-Gebietes,\"\n_Mittheilungen des Seminars fuer Orientalische Sprachen zu Berlin_, ii.\nDritte Abtheilung (1899), p. 97; R. Fisch, \"Die Dagbamba,\"\n_Baessler-Archiv_, iii. (1912) p. 148. For evidence of similar beliefs\nand practices in other parts of Africa, see Brard, \"Der\nVictoria-Nyanza,\" _Petermann's Mittheilungen_, xliii. (1897) pp. 79\n_sq._; Father Picarda, \"Autour du Mandera,\" _Missions Catholiques_,\nxviii. (1886) p. 342.]\n\n[Footnote 47: Rev. R. H. Nassau, _Fetichism in West Africa_ (London,\n1904), pp. 241 _sq._]\n\n[Footnote 48: \"Strange Adventures of Andrew Battel,\" in John Pinkerton's\n_Voyages and Travels_, xvi. (London, 1814) p. 334.]\n\n[Footnote 49: _Gouvernement General de l'Afrique Occidentale Francaise,\nNotices publiees par le Gouvernement Central a l'occasion de\nl'Exposition Coloniale de Marseille, La Cote d'Ivoire_ (Corbeil, 1906),\npp. 570-572.]\n\n[Footnote 50: Hugh Goldie, _Calabar and its Mission_, New Edition\n(Edinburgh and London, 1901), pp. 34 _sq._, 37 _sq._]\n\n[Footnote 51: Above, p. 35.]\n\n[Footnote 52: E. R. Smith, _The Araucanians_ (London, 1855), pp. 236\n_sq._]\n\n[Footnote 53: Father Trilles, \"Milles lieues dans l'inconnu; a travers\nle pays Fang, de la cote aux rives du Djah,\" _Missions Catholiques_,\nxxxv. (1903) pp. 466 _sq._, and as to the poison ordeal, _ib._ pp. 472\n_sq._]\n\n[Footnote 54: R. H. Codrington, _The Melanesians_ (Oxford, 1891), p.\n194.]\n\n[Footnote 55: Dudley Kidd, _The Essential Kafir_ (London, 1904), pp. 133\n_sq._]\n\n[Footnote 56: In like manner the Baganda generally ascribed natural\ndeaths either to sorcery or to the action of a ghost; but when they\ncould not account for a person's death in either of these ways they said\nthat Walumbe, the God of Death, had taken him. This last explanation\napproaches to an admission of natural death, though it is still mythical\nin form. The Baganda usually attributed any illness of the king to\nghosts, because no man would dare to practise magic on him. A\nmuch-dreaded ghost was that of a man's sister; she was thought to vent\nher spite on his sons and daughters by visiting them with sickness. When\nshe proved implacable, a medicine-man was employed to catch her ghost in\na gourd or a pot and throw it away on waste land or drown it in a river.\nSee Rev. J. Roscoe, _The Baganda_ (London, 1911), pp. 98, 100, 101\n_sq._, 286 _sq._, 315 _sq._]\n\n\n\n\nLECTURE III\n\nMYTHS OF THE ORIGIN OF DEATH\n\n\n[Sidenote: Belief of savages in man's natural immortality.]\n\nIn my last lecture I shewed that many savages do not believe in what we\ncall a natural death; they imagine that all men are naturally immortal\nand would never die, if their lives were not cut prematurely short by\nsorcery. Further, I pointed out that this mistaken view of the nature of\ndeath has exercised a disastrous influence on the tribes who entertain\nit, since, attributing all natural deaths to sorcery, they consider\nthemselves bound to discover and kill the wicked sorcerers whom they\nregard as responsible for the death of their friends. Thus in primitive\nsociety as a rule every natural death entails at least one and often\nseveral deaths by violence; since the supposed culprit being unknown\nsuspicion may fall upon many persons, all of whom may be killed either\nout of hand or as a consequence of failing to demonstrate their\ninnocence by means of an ordeal.\n\n[Sidenote: Savage stories of the origin of death.]\n\nYet even the savages who firmly believe in man's natural immortality are\nobliged sorrowfully to admit that, as things are at the present day, men\ndo frequently die, whatever explanation we may give of so unexpected and\nunnatural an occurrence. Accordingly they are hard put to it to\nreconcile their theory of immortality with the practice of mortality.\nThey have meditated on the subject and have given us the fruit of their\nmeditation in a series of myths which profess to explain the origin of\ndeath. For the most part these myths are very crude and childish; yet\nthey have a value of their own as examples of man's early attempts to\nfathom one of the great mysteries which encompass his frail and\ntransient existence on earth; and accordingly I have here collected, in\nall their naked simplicity, a few of these savage guesses at truth.\n\n[Sidenote: Four types of such stories.]\n\nMyths of the origin of death conform to several types, among which we\nmay distinguish, first, what I will call the type of the Two Messengers;\nsecond, the type of the Waxing and Waning Moon; third, the type of the\nSerpent and his Cast Skin; and fourth, the type of the Banana-tree. I\nwill illustrate each type by examples, and will afterwards cite some\nmiscellaneous instances which do not fall under any of these heads.\n\n[Sidenote: I. The tale of the Two Messengers. Zulu story of the\nchameleon and the lizard. The same story among other Bantu tribes.]\n\nFirst, then, we begin with the type of the Two Messengers. Stories of\nthis pattern are widespread in Africa, especially among tribes belonging\nto the great Bantu family, which occupies roughly the southern half of\nthe continent. The best-known example of the tale is the one told by the\nZulus. They say that in the beginning Unkulunkulu, that is, the Old Old\nOne, sent the chameleon to men with a message saying, \"Go, chameleon, go\nand say, Let not men die.\" The chameleon set out, but it crawled very\nslowly, and it loitered by the way to eat the purple berries of the\n_ubukwebezane_ tree, or according to others it climbed up a tree to bask\nin the sun, filled its belly with flies, and fell fast asleep. Meantime\nthe Old Old One had thought better of it and sent a lizard posting after\nthe chameleon with a very different message to men, for he said to the\nanimal, \"Lizard, when you have arrived, say, Let men die.\" So the lizard\nwent on his way, passed the dawdling chameleon, and arriving first among\nmen delivered his message of death, saying, \"Let men die.\" Then he\nturned on his heel and went back to the Old Old One who had sent him.\nBut after he was gone, the chameleon at last arrived among men with his\nglad tidings of immortality, and he shouted, saying, \"It is said, Let\nnot men die!\" But men answered, \"O! we have heard the word of the\nlizard; it has told us the word, 'It is said, Let men die.' We cannot\nhear your word. Through the word of the lizard, men will die.\" And died\nthey have ever since from that day to this. That is why some of the\nZulus hate the lizard, saying, \"Why did he run first and say, 'Let\npeople die?'\" So they beat and kill the lizard and say, \"Why did it\nspeak?\" But others hate the chameleon and hustle it, saying, \"That is\nthe little thing which delayed to tell the people that they should not\ndie. If he had only brought his message in time we should not have died;\nour ancestors also would have been still living; there would have been\nno diseases here on the earth. It all comes from the delay of the\nchameleon.\"[57] The same story is told in nearly the same form by other\nBantu tribes, such as the Bechuanas,[58] the Basutos,[59] the\nBaronga,[60] and the Ngoni.[61] To this day the Baronga and the Ngoni\nowe the chameleon a grudge for having brought death into the world, so\nwhen children find a chameleon they will induce it to open its mouth,\nthen throw a pinch of tobacco on its tongue, and watch with delight the\ncreature writhing and changing colour from orange to green, from green\nto black in the agony of death; for thus they avenge the wrong which the\nchameleon has done to mankind.[62]\n\n[Sidenote: Akamba story of the chameleon and the thrush.]\n\nA story of the same type, but with some variations, is told by the\nAkamba, a Bantu tribe of British East Africa; but in their version the\nlizard has disappeared from the legend and has been replaced by the\n_itoroko_, a small bird of the thrush tribe, with a black head, a\nbluish-black back, and a buff-coloured breast. The tale runs thus:--Once\nupon a time God sent out the chameleon, the frog, and the thrush to find\npeople who died one day and came to life again the next. So off they\nset, the chameleon leading the way, for in those days he was a very\nimportant personage. Presently they came to some people lying like dead,\nso the chameleon went up to them and said, _Niwe, niwe, niwe_. The\nthrush asked him testily what he was making that noise for, to which the\nchameleon replied mildly, \"I am only calling the people who go forward\nand then came back again,\" and he explained that the dead people would\ncome to life again. But the thrush, who was of a sceptical turn of mind,\nderided the idea. Nevertheless, the chameleon persisted in calling to\nthe dead people, and sure enough they opened their eyes and listened to\nhim. But here the thrush broke in and told them roughly that dead they\nwere and dead they must remain. With that away he flew, and though the\nchameleon preached to the corpses, telling them that he had come from\nGod on purpose to bring them to life again, and that they were not to\nbelieve the lies of that shallow sceptic the thrush, they obstinately\nrefused to pay any heed to him; not one of those dead corpses would\nbudge. So the chameleon returned crestfallen to God and reported to him\nhow, when he preached the gospel of resurrection to the corpses, the\nthrush had roared him down, so that the corpses could not hear a word he\nsaid. God thereupon cross-questioned the thrush, who stated that the\nchameleon had so bungled his message that he, the thrush, felt it his\nimperative duty to interrupt him. The simple deity believed the thrush,\nand being very angry with the chameleon he degraded him from his high\nposition and made him walk very slow, lurching this way and that, as he\ndoes down to this very day. But the thrush he promoted to the office of\nwakening men from their slumber every morning, which he still does\npunctually at 2 A.M. before the note of any other bird is heard in the\ntropical forest.[63]\n\n[Sidenote: Togo story of the dog and the frog.]\n\nIn this version, though the frog is sent out by God with the other two\nmessengers he plays no part in the story; he is a mere dummy. But in\nanother version of the story, which is told by the negroes of Togoland\nin German West Africa, the frog takes the place of the lizard and the\nthrush as the messenger of death. They say that once upon a time men\nsent a dog to God to say that when they died they would like to come to\nlife again. So off the dog trotted to deliver the message. But on the\nway he felt hungry and turned into a house, where a man was boiling\nmagic herbs. So the dog sat down and thought to himself, \"He is cooking\nfood.\" Meantime the frog had set off to tell God that when men died they\nwould like not to come to life again. Nobody had asked him to give that\nmessage; it was a piece of pure officiousness and impertinence on his\npart. However, away he tore. The dog, who still sat watching the\nhell-broth brewing, saw him hurrying past the door, but he thought to\nhimself, \"When I have had something to eat, I will soon catch froggy\nup.\" However, froggy came in first and said to the deity, \"When men die,\nthey would like not to come to life again.\" After that, up comes the\ndog, and says he, \"When men die, they would like to come to life again.\"\nGod was naturally puzzled and said to the dog, \"I really do not\nunderstand these two messages. As I heard the frog's request first, I\nwill comply with it. I will not do what you said.\" That is the real\nreason why men die and do not come to life again. If the frog had only\nminded his own business instead of meddling with other people's, the\ndead would all have come to life again to this day.[64] In this version\nof the story not only are the persons of the two messengers different,\nthe dog and the frog having replaced the chameleon and the lizard of the\nBantu version, but the messengers are sent from men to God instead of\nfrom God to men.\n\n[Sidenote: Ashantee story of the goat and the sheep.]\n\nIn another version told by the Ashantees of West Africa the persons of\nthe messengers are again different, but as in the Bantu version they are\nsent from God to men. The Ashantees say that long ago men were happy,\nfor God dwelt among them and talked with them face to face. For example,\nif a child was roasting yams at the fire and wanted a relish to eat with\nthe yams, he had nothing to do but to throw a stick in the air and say,\n\"God give me fish,\" and God gave him fish at once. However, these happy\ndays did not last for ever. One unlucky day it happened that some women\nwere pounding a mash with pestles in a mortar, while God stood by\nlooking on. For some reason they were annoyed by the presence of the\ndeity and told him to be off; and as he did not take himself off fast\nenough to please them, they beat him with their pestles. In a great huff\nGod retired altogether from the world and left it to the direction of\nthe fetishes; and still to this day people say, \"Ah, if it had not been\nfor that old woman, how happy we should be!\" However, after he had\nwithdrawn to heaven, the long-suffering deity sent a kind message by a\ngoat to men upon earth to say, \"There is something which they call\nDeath. He will kill some of you. But even if you die, you will not\nperish completely. You will come to me in heaven.\" So off the goat set\nwith this cheering intelligence. But before he came to the town he saw a\ntempting bush by the wayside and stopped to browse on it. When God in\nheaven saw the goat thus loitering by the way, he sent off a sheep with\nthe same message to carry the glad tidings to men without delay. But the\nsheep did not give the message aright. Far from it: he said, \"God sends\nyou word that you will die and that will be an end of you.\" Afterwards\nthe goat arrived on the scene and said, \"God sends you word that you\nwill die, certainly, but that will not be the end of you, for you will\ngo to him.\" But men said to the goat, \"No, goat, that is not what God\nsaid. We believe that the message which the sheep brought us is the one\nwhich God sent to us.\" That was the beginning of death among men.[65]\nHowever, in another Ashantee version of the tale the parts played by the\nsheep and the goat are reversed. It is the sheep who brings the tidings\nof immortality from God to men, but the goat overruns him and offers\nthem death instead. Not knowing what death was, men accepted the seeming\nboon with enthusiasm and have died ever since.[66]\n\n[Sidenote: II. The story of the Waxing and Waning Moon. Hottentot story\nof the Moon, the hare, and death.]\n\nSo much for the tale of the Two Messengers. In the last versions of it\nwhich I have quoted, a feature to be noticed is the perversion of the\nmessage by one of the messengers, who brings tidings of death instead of\nlife eternal to men. The same perversion of the message reappears in\nsome examples of the next type of story which I shall illustrate, namely\nthe type of the Waxing and Waning Moon. Thus the Namaquas or Hottentots\nsay that once the Moon charged the hare to go to men and say, \"As I die\nand rise to life again, so shall you die and rise to life again.\" So the\nhare went to men, but either out of forgetfulness or malice he reversed\nthe message and said, \"As I die and do not rise to life again, so you\nshall also die and not rise to life again.\" Then he went back to the\nMoon, and she asked him what he had said. He told her, and when she\nheard how he had given the wrong message, she was so angry that she\nthrew a stick at him and split his lip, which is the reason why the\nhare's lip is still split. So the hare ran away and is still running to\nthis day. Some people, however, say that before he fled he clawed the\nMoon's face, which still bears the marks of the scratching, as anybody\nmay see for himself on a clear moonlight night. So the Hottentots are\nstill angry with the hare for bringing death into the world, and they\nwill not let initiated men partake of its flesh.[67] There are traces of\na similar story among the Bushmen.[68] In another Hottentot version two\nmessengers appear, an insect and a hare; the insect is charged by the\nMoon with a message of immortality or rather of resurrection to men, but\nthe hare persuades the insect to let him bear the tidings, which he\nperverts into a message of annihilation.[69] Thus in this particular\nversion the type of the Two Messengers coincides with the Moon type.\n\n[Sidenote: Masai story of the moon and death.]\n\nA story of the same type, though different in details, is told by the\nMasai of East Africa. They say that in the early days a certain god\nnamed Naiteru-kop told a man named Le-eyo that if a child were to die he\nwas to throw away the body and say, \"Man, die, and come back again;\nmoon, die, and remain away.\" Well, soon afterwards a child died, but it\nwas not one of the man's own children, so when he threw the body away he\nsaid, \"Man, die, and remain away; moon, die, and return.\" Next one of\nhis own children died, and when he threw away the body he said, \"Man,\ndie, and return; moon, die, and remain away.\" But the god said to him,\n\"It is of no use now, for you spoilt matters with the other child.\" That\nis why down to this day when a man dies he returns no more, but when the\nmoon dies she always comes to life again.[70]\n\n[Sidenote: Nandi story of the moon, the dog, and death.]\n\nAnother story of the origin of death which belongs to this type is told\nby the Nandi of British East Africa. They say that when the first people\nlived upon the earth a dog came to them one day and said: \"All people\nwill die like the moon, but unlike the moon you will not return to life\nagain unless you give me some milk to drink out of your gourd, and beer\nto drink through your straw. If you do this, I will arrange for you to\ngo to the river when you die and to come to life again on the third\nday.\" But the people laughed at the dog, and gave him some milk and beer\nto drink off a stool. The dog was angry at not being served in the same\nvessels as a human being, and though he put his pride in his pocket and\ndrank the milk and the beer from the stool, he went away in high\ndudgeon, saying, \"All people will die, and the moon alone will return to\nlife.\" That is the reason why, when people die, they stay away, whereas\nwhen the moon goes away she comes back again after three days'\nabsence.[71] The Wa-Sania of British East Africa believe that in days\ngone by people never died, till one unlucky day a lizard came and said\nto them, \"All of you know that the moon dies and rises again, but human\nbeings will die and rise no more.\" They say that from that day people\nbegan to die and have persisted in dying ever since.[72]\n\n[Sidenote: Fijian story of the moon, the rat, and death. Caroline\nIslands story of the moon, death, and resurrection. Wotjobaluk story of\nthe moon, death, and resurrection. Cham story of the moon, death, and\nresurrection.]\n\nWith these African stories of the origin of death we may compare one\ntold by the Fijians on the other side of the world. They say that once\nupon a time the Moon contended that men should be like himself (for the\nFijian moon seems to be a male); that is, he meant that just as he grows\nold, disappears, and comes in sight again, so men grown old should\nvanish for a while and then return to life. But the rat, who is a Fijian\ngod, would not hear of it. \"No,\" said he, \"let men die like rats.\" And\nhe had the best of it in the dispute, for men die like rats to this\nday.[73] In the Caroline Islands they say that long, long ago death was\nunknown, or rather it was a short sleep, not a long, long one, as it is\nnow. Men died on the last day of the waning moon and came to life again\non the first appearance of the new moon, just as if they had awakened\nfrom a refreshing slumber. But an evil spirit somehow contrived that\nwhen men slept the sleep of death they should wake no more.[74] The\nWotjobaluk of south-eastern Australia relate that, when all animals were\nmen and women, some of them died and the moon used to say, \"You\nup-again,\" whereupon they came to life again. But once on a time an old\nman said, \"Let them remain dead\"; and since then nobody has ever come to\nlife again except the moon, which still continues to do so down to this\nvery day.[75] The Chams of Annam and Cambodia say that the goddess of\ngood luck used to resuscitate people as fast as they died, till the\nsky-god, tired of her constant interference with the laws of nature,\ntransferred her to the moon, where it is no longer in her power to bring\nthe dead to life again.[76]\n\n[Sidenote: Cycle of death and resurrection after three days, like the\nmonthly disappearance and reappearance of the moon.]\n\nThese stories which associate human immortality with the moon are\nproducts of a primitive philosophy which, meditating on the visible\nchanges, of the lunar orb, drew from the observation of its waning and\nwaxing a dim notion that under a happier fate man might have been\nimmortal like the moon, or rather that like it he might have undergone\nan endless cycle of death and resurrection, dying then rising again from\nthe dead after three days. The same curious notion of death and\nresurrection after three days is entertained by the Unmatjera and\nKaitish, two savage tribes of Central Australia. They say that long ago\ntheir dead used to be buried either in trees or underground, and that\nafter three days they regularly rose from the dead. The Kaitish tell how\nthis happy state of things came to an end. It was all through a man of\nthe Curlew totem, who finding some men of the Little Wallaby totem\nburying a Little Wallaby man, fell into a passion and kicked the body\ninto the sea. Of course after that the dead man could not come to life\nagain, and that is why nowadays nobody rises from the dead after three\ndays, as everybody used to do long ago.[77] Although no mention is made\nof the moon in this Australian story, we may conjecture that these\nsavages, like the Nandi of East Africa, fixed upon three days as the\nnormal interval between death and resurrection simply because three days\nis the interval between the disappearance of the old and the\nreappearance of the new moon. If that is so, the aborigines of Central\nAustralia may be added to the many races of mankind who have seen in the\nwaning and waxing moon an emblem of human immortality. Nor does this\nassociation of ideas end with a mere tradition that in some former age\nmen used to die with the old moon and come to life again with the new\nmoon. Many savages, on seeing the new moon for the first time in the\nmonth, observe ceremonies which seem to be intended to renew and\nincrease their life and strength with the renewal and the increase of\nthe lunar light. For example, on the day when the new moon first\nappeared, the Indians of San Juan Capistrano in California used to call\ntogether all the young men and make them run about, while the old men\ndanced in a circle, saying, \"As the moon dieth and cometh to life again,\nso we also having to die will again live.\"[78] Again, an old writer\ntells us that at the appearance of every new moon the negroes of the\nCongo clapped their hands and cried out, sometimes falling on their\nknees, \"So may I renew my life as thou art renewed.\"[79]\n\n[Sidenote: III. Story of the Serpent and his Cast Skin. New Britain\nstory of immortality, the serpent, and death. Annamite story of\nimmortality, the serpent, and death. Vuatom story of immortality, the\nlizard, the serpent, and death.]\n\nAnother type of stories told to explain the origin of death is the one\nwhich I have called the type of the Serpent and his Cast Skin. Some\nsavages seem to think that serpents and all other animals, such as\nlizards, which periodically shed their skins, thereby renew their life\nand so never die. Hence they imagine that if man also could only cast\nhis old skin and put on a new one, he too would be immortal like a\nserpent. Thus the Melanesians, who inhabit the coast of the Gazelle\nPeninsula in New Britain, tell the following story of the origin of\ndeath. They say that To Kambinana, the Good Spirit, loved men and wished\nto make them immortal; but he hated the serpents and wished to kill\nthem. So he called his brother To Korvuvu and said to him, \"Go to men\nand take them the secret of immortality. Tell them to cast their skin\nevery year. So will they be protected from death, for their life will be\nconstantly renewed. But tell the serpents that they must thenceforth\ndie.\" But To Korvuvu acquitted himself badly of his task; for he\ncommanded men to die and betrayed to the serpents the secret of\nimmortality. Since then all men have been mortal, but the serpents cast\ntheir skins every year and are immortal.[80] In this story we meet again\nwith the incident of the reversed message; through a blunder or through\nthe malice of the messenger the glad tidings of immortality are\nperverted into a melancholy message of death. A similar tale, with a\nsimilar incident, is told in Annam. They say that Ngoc hoang sent a\nmessenger from heaven to men to say that when they had reached old age\nthey should change their skins and live for ever, but that when serpents\ngrew old they must die. The messenger came down to earth and said,\nrightly enough, \"When man is old, he shall cast his skin; but when\nserpents are old, they shall die and be laid in coffins.\" So far, so\ngood. But unfortunately there happened to be a brood of serpents within\nhearing, and when they heard the doom pronounced on their kind they fell\ninto a fury and said to the messenger, \"You must say it over again and\njust the contrary, or we will bite you.\" That frightened the messenger\nand he repeated his message, changing the words thus: \"When he is old,\nthe serpent shall cast his skin; but when he is old, man shall die and\nbe laid in the coffin.\" That is why all creatures are now subject to\ndeath, except the serpent, who, when he is old, casts his skin and lives\nfor ever.[81] The natives of Vuatom, an island in the Bismarck\nArchipelago, say that a certain To Konokonomiange bade two lads fetch\nfire, promising that if they did so they should never die, but that if\nthey refused their bodies would perish, though their shades or souls\nwould survive. They would not hearken to him, so he cursed them, saying,\n\"What! You would all have lived! Now you shall die, though your soul\nshall live. But the iguana (_Goniocephalus_) and the lizard (_Varanus\nindicus_) and the snake (_Enygrus_), they shall live, they shall cast\ntheir skin and they shall live for evermore.\" When the lads heard that,\nthey wept, for bitterly they rued their folly in not going to fetch the\nfire for To Konokonomiange.[82]\n\n[Sidenote: Nias story of immortality, the crab, and death. Arawak and\nTamanachier stories of immortality, the serpent, the lizard, the beetle,\nand death.]\n\nOther peoples tell somewhat different stories to explain how men missed\nthe boon of immortality and serpents acquired it. Thus the natives of\nNias, an island off the coast of Sumatra, say that, when the earth was\ncreated, a certain being was sent down by God from heaven to put the\nlast touches to the work of creation. He should have fasted for a month,\nbut unable to withstand the pangs of hunger he ate some bananas. The\nchoice of food was most unlucky, for had he only eaten river-crabs\ninstead of bananas men would have cast their skins like crabs and would\nnever have died.[83] The Arawaks of British Guiana relate that once upon\na time the Creator came down to earth to see how his creature man was\ngetting on. But men were so wicked that they tried to kill him so he\ndeprived them of eternal life and bestowed it on the animals which renew\ntheir skin, such as serpents, lizards, and beetles.[84] A somewhat\ndifferent version of the story is told by the Tamanachiers, an Indian\ntribe of the Orinoco. They say that after residing among them for some\ntime the Creator took boat to cross to the other side of the great salt\nwater from which he had come. Just as he was shoving off from the shore,\nhe called out to them in a changed voice, \"You will change your skins,\"\nby which he meant to say, \"You will renew your youth like the serpents\nand the beetles.\" But unfortunately an old woman, hearing these words,\ncried out \"Oh!\" in a tone of scepticism, if not of sarcasm, which so\nannoyed the Creator that he changed his tune at once and said testily,\n\"Ye shall die.\" That is why we are all mortal.[85]\n\n[Sidenote: Melanesian story of the old woman who renewed her youth by\ncasting her skin.]\n\nThe natives of the Banks' Islands and the New Hebrides believe that\nthere was a time in the beginning of things when men never died but cast\ntheir skins like snakes and crabs and so renewed their youth. But the\nunhappy change to mortality came about at last, as it so often does in\nthese stories, through an old woman. Having grown old, this dame went to\na stream to change her skin, and change it she did, for she stripped off\nher wizened old hide, cast it upon the waters, and watched it floating\ndown stream till it caught on a stick. Then she went home a buxom young\nwoman. But the child whom she had left at home did not know her and set\nup such a prodigious squalling that to quiet it the woman went straight\nback to the river, fished out her cast-off old skin, and put it on\nagain. From that day to this people have ceased to cast their skins and\nto live for ever.[86] The same legend of the origin of death has been\nrecorded in the Shortlands Islands[87] and among the Kai of German New\nGuinea.[88] It is also told with some variations by the natives of the\nAdmiralty Islands. They say that once on a time there was an old woman\nand she was frail. She had two sons, and they went a-fishing, and she\nherself went to bathe. She stripped off her wrinkled old skin and came\nforth as young as she had been long ago. Her sons came home from the\nfishing, and very much astonished were they to see her. The one said,\n\"It is our mother,\" but the other said, \"She may be your mother, but she\nshall be my wife.\" Their mother heard them and said, \"What were you two\nsaying?\" The two said, \"Nothing! We only said that you are our mother.\"\n\"You are liars,\" said she, \"I heard you both. If I had had my way, we\nshould have grown to be old men and women, and then we should have cast\nour skin and been young men and young women. But you have had your way.\nWe shall grow old men and old women and then we shall die.\" With that\nshe fetched her old skin, and put it on, and became an old woman again.\nAs for us, her descendants, we grow up and we grow old. And if it had\nnot been for those two young men there would have been no end of our\ndays, we should have lived for ever and ever.[89]\n\n[Sidenote: Samoan story of the shellfish, two torches, and death.]\n\nThe Samoans tell how the gods held a council to decide what was to be\ndone with men. One of them said, \"Bring men and let them cast their\nskin; and when they die, let them be turned to shellfish or to a\ncoco-nut leaf torch, which when shaken in the wind blazes out again.\"\nBut another god called Palsy (_Supa_) rose up and said, \"Bring men and\nlet them be like the candle-nut torch, which when it is once out cannot\nbe blown up again. Let the shellfish change their skin, but let men\ndie.\" While they were debating, a heavy rain came on and broke up the\nmeeting. As the gods ran for shelter to their houses, they cried, \"Let\nit be according to the counsel of Palsy! Let it be according to the\ncounsel of Palsy!\" So men died, but shellfish cast their skins.[90]\n\n[Sidenote: IV. The Banana Story. Poso story of immortality, the stone,\nthe banana, and death. Mentra story of immortality, the banana, and\ndeath.]\n\nThe last type of tales of the origin of death which I shall notice is\nthe one which I have called the Banana type. We have already seen that\naccording to the natives of Nias human mortality is all due to eating\nbananas instead of crabs.[91] A similar opinion is entertained by other\npeople in that region of the world. Thus the natives of Poso, a district\nof Central Celebes, say that in the beginning the sky was very near the\nearth, and that the Creator, who lived in it, used to let down his good\ngifts to men at the end of a rope. One day he thus lowered a stone; but\nour first father and mother would have none of it and they called out to\ntheir Maker, \"What have we to do with this stone? Give us something\nelse.\" The Creator complied and hauled away at the rope; the stone\nmounted up and up till it vanished from sight. Presently the rope was\nseen coming down from heaven again, and this time there was a banana at\nthe end of it instead of a stone. Our first parents ran at the banana\nand took it. Then there came a voice from heaven, saying: \"Because ye\nhave chosen the banana, your life shall be like its life. When the\nbanana-tree has offspring, the parent stem dies; so shall ye die and\nyour children shall step into your place. Had ye chosen the stone, your\nlife would have been like the life of the stone changeless and\nimmortal.\" The man and his wife mourned over their fatal choice, but it\nwas too late; that is how through the eating of a banana death came into\nthe world.[92] The Mentras or Mantras, a shy tribe of savages in the\njungles of the Malay Peninsula, allege that in the early days of the\nworld men did not die, but only grew thin at the waning of the moon and\nthen waxed fat again as she waxed to the full. Thus there was no check\nwhatever on the population, which increased to a truly alarming extent.\nSo a son of the first man brought this state of things to his father's\nnotice and asked him what was to be done. The first man said, \"Leave\nthings as they are\"; but his younger brother, who took a more Malthusian\nview of the situation, said, \"No, let men die like the banana, leaving\ntheir offspring behind.\" The question was submitted to the Lord of the\nUnderworld, and he decided in favour of death. Ever since then men have\nceased to renew their youth like the moon and have died like the\nbanana.[93]\n\n[Sidenote: Primitive philosophy in the stories of the origin of death.]\n\nThus the three stories of the origin of death which I have called the\nMoon type, the Serpent type, and the Banana type appear to be products\nof a primitive philosophy which sees a cheerful emblem of immortality in\nthe waxing and waning moon and in the cast skins of serpents, but a sad\nemblem of mortality in the banana-tree, which perishes as soon as it has\nproduced its fruit. But, as I have already said, these types of stories\ndo not exhaust the theories or fancies of primitive man on the question\nhow death came into the world. I will conclude this part of my subject\nwith some myths which do not fall under any of the preceding heads.\n\n[Sidenote: Bahnar story of immortality, the tree, and death. Rivalry for\nthe boon of immortality between men and animals that cast their skins,\nsuch as serpents and lizards.]\n\nThe Bahnars of eastern Cochinchina say that in the beginning when people\ndied they used to be buried at the foot of a tree called Long Blo, and\nthat after a time they always rose from the dead, not as infants but as\nfull-grown men and women. So the earth was peopled very fast, and all\nthe inhabitants formed but one great town under the presidency of our\nfirst parents. In time men multiplied to such an extent that a certain\nlizard could not take his walks abroad without somebody treading on his\ntail. This vexed him, and the wily creature gave an insidious hint to\nthe gravediggers. \"Why bury the dead at the foot of the Long Blo tree?\"\nsaid he; \"bury them at the foot of Long Khung, and they will not come to\nlife again. Let them die outright and be done with it.\" The hint was\ntaken, and from that day the dead have not come to life again.[94] In\nthis story there are several points to be noticed. In the first place\nthe tree Long Blo would seem to have been a tree of life, since all the\ndead who were buried at its foot came to life again. In the second place\nthe lizard is here, as in so many African tales, the instrument of\nbringing death among men. Why was that so? We may conjecture that the\nreason is that the lizard like the serpent casts its skin periodically,\nfrom which primitive man might infer, as he infers with regard to\nserpents, that the creature renews its youth and lives for ever. Thus\nall the myths which relate how a lizard or a serpent became the\nmaleficent agent of human mortality may perhaps be referred to an old\nidea of a certain jealousy and rivalry between men and all creatures\nwhich cast their skin, notably serpents and lizards; we may suppose that\nin all such cases a story was told of a contest between man and his\nanimal rivals for the possession of immortality, a contest in which,\nwhether by mistake or by guile, the victory always remained with the\nanimals, who thus became immortal, while mankind was doomed to\nmortality.\n\n[Sidenote: Chingpaw story of the origin of death. Australian story of\nthe tree, the bat, and death. Fijian story of the origin of death.]\n\nThe Chingpaws of Upper Burma say that death originated in a practical\njoke played by an old man who pretended to be dead in the ancient days\nwhen nobody really died. But the Lord of the Sun, who held the threads\nof all human lives in his hand, detected the fraud and in anger cut\nshort the thread of life of the practical joker. Since then everybody\nelse has died; the door for death to enter into the world was opened by\nthe folly of that silly, though humorous, old man.[95] The natives about\nthe Murray River in Australia used to relate how the first man and woman\nwere forbidden to go near a tree in which a bat lived, lest they should\ndisturb the creature. One day, however, the woman was gathering firewood\nand she went near the tree. The bat flew away, and after that death came\ninto the world.[96] Some of the Fijians accounted for human mortality as\nfollows. When the first man, the father of the human race, was being\nburied, a god passed by the grave and asked what it meant, for he had\nnever seen a grave before. On learning from the bystanders that they had\njust buried their father, \"Do not bury him,\" said he, \"dig the body up\nagain.\" \"No,\" said they, \"we cannot do that. He has been dead four days\nand stinks.\" \"Not so,\" pleaded the god; \"dig him up, and I promise you\nthat he will live again.\" Heedless of the divine promise, these\nprimitive sextons persisted in leaving their dead father in the grave.\nThen said the god to these wicked men, \"By disobeying me you have sealed\nyour own fate. Had you dug up your ancestor, you would have found him\nalive, and you yourselves, when you passed from this world, should have\nbeen buried, as bananas are, for the space of four days, after which you\nshould have been dug up, not rotten, but ripe. But now, as a punishment\nfor your disobedience, you shall die and rot.\" And still, when they hear\nthis sad tale told, the Fijians say, \"O that those children had dug up\nthat body!\"[97]\n\n[Sidenote: Admiralty Islanders' stories of the origin of death.]\n\nThe Admiralty Islanders tell various stories to explain why man is\nmortal. One of them has already been related. Here is another. A Souh\nman went once to catch fish. A devil tried to devour him, but he fled\ninto the forest and took refuge in a tree. The tree kindly closed on him\nso that the devil could not see him. When the devil was gone, the tree\nopened up and the man clambered down to the ground. Then said the tree\nto him, \"Go to Souh and bring me two white pigs.\" He went and found two\npigs, one was white and one was black. He took chalk and chalked the\nblack pig so that it was white. Then he brought them to the tree, but on\nthe way the chalk fell off the black pig. And when the tree saw the\nwhite pig and the black pig, he chid the man and said, \"You are\nthankless. I was good to you. An evil will overtake you; you will die.\nThe devil will fall upon you, and you will die.\" So it has been with us\nas it was with the man of Souh. An evil overtakes us or a spirit falls\nupon us, and we die. If it had been as the tree said, we should not have\ndied.[98] Another story told by the Admiralty Islanders to account for\nthe melancholy truth of man's mortality runs thus. Kosi, the chief of\nMoakareng, was in his house. He was hungry. He said to his two sons, \"Go\nand climb the breadfruit trees and bring the fruit, that we may eat them\ntogether and not die.\" But they would not. So he went himself and\nclimbed the breadfruit tree. But the north-west wind blew a storm, it\nblew and threw him down. He fell and his body died, but his ghost went\nhome. He went and sat in his house. He tied up his hair and he painted\nhis face with red ochre. Now his wife and his two sons had gone after\nhim into the wood. They went to fetch home the breadfruits. They came\nand saw Kosi, and he was dead. The three returned home, and there they\nsaw the ghost of Kosi sitting in his house. They said, \"You there! Who's\nthat dead at the foot of the breadfruit tree? Kosi, he is dead at the\nfoot of the breadfruit tree.\" Kosi, he said, \"Here am I. I did not fall.\nPerhaps somebody else fell down. I did not. Here I am.\" \"You're a liar,\"\nsaid they. \"I ain't,\" said he. \"Come,\" said they, \"we'll go and see.\"\nThey went. Kosi, he jumped into his body. He died. They buried him. If\nhis wife had behaved well, we should not die. Our body would die, but\nour ghost would go about always in the old home.[99]\n\n[Sidenote: Stories of the origin of death: the fatal bundle or the fatal\nbox.]\n\nThe Wemba of Northern Rhodesia relate how God in the beginning created a\nman and a woman and gave them two bundles; in one of them was life and\nin the other death. Most unfortunately the man chose \"the little bundle\nof death.\"[100] The Cherokee Indians of North America say that a number\nof beings were engaged in the work of creation. The Sun was made first.\nNow the creators intended that men should live for ever. But when the\nSun passed over them in the sky, he told the people that there was not\nroom enough for them all and that they had better die. At last the Sun's\nown daughter, who was with the people on earth, was bitten by a snake\nand died. Then the Sun repented him and said that men might live always;\nand he bade them take a box and go fetch his daughter's spirit in the\nbox and bring it to her body, that she might live. But he charged them\nstraitly not to open the box until they arrived at the dead body.\nHowever, moved by curiosity, they unhappily opened the box too soon;\naway flew the spirit, and all men have died ever since.[101] Some of the\nNorth American Indians informed the early Jesuit missionaries that a\ncertain man had received the gift of immortality in a small packet from\na famous magician named Messou, who repaired the world after it had been\nseriously damaged by a great flood. In bestowing on the man this\nvaluable gift the magician strictly enjoined him on no account to open\nthe packet. The man obeyed, and so long as the packet was unopened he\nremained immortal. But his wife was both curious and incredulous; she\nopened the packet to see what was in it, the precious contents flew\naway, and mankind has been subject to death ever since.[102]\n\n[Sidenote: Baganda story how death came into the world through the\nforgetfulness and imprudence of a woman.]\n\nAs these American Indians tell how death came through the curiosity and\nincredulity of one woman, the Baganda of Central Africa relate how it\ncame through the forgetfulness and imprudence of another. According to\nthe Baganda the first man who came to earth in Uganda was named Kintu.\nHe brought with him one cow and lived on its milk, for he had no other\nfood. But in time a woman named Nambi, a daughter of Gulu, the king of\nheaven, came down to earth with her brother or sister, and seeing Kintu\nshe fell in love with him and wished to have him for her husband. But\nher proud father doubted whether Kintu was worthy of his daughter's\nhand, and accordingly he insisted on testing his future son-in-law\nbefore he would consent to the marriage. So he carried off Kintu's cow\nand put it among his own herds in heaven. When Kintu found that the cow\nwas stolen, he was in a great rage, but hunger getting the better of\nanger, he made shift to live by peeling the bark of trees and gathering\nherbs and leaves, which he cooked and ate. In time his future wife Nambi\nhappened to spy the stolen cow among her father's herds and she told\nKintu, who came to heaven to seek and recover the lost animal. His\nfuture father-in-law Gulu, Lord of Heaven, obliged him to submit to many\ntests designed to prove his fitness for marriage with the daughter of so\nexalted a being as the Lord of Heaven. All these tests Kintu\nsuccessfully passed through. At last Gulu was satisfied, gave him his\ndaughter Nambi to wife, and allowed him to return to earth with her.\n\n[Sidenote: The coming of Death.]\n\nBut Nambi had a brother and his name was Death (_Walumbe_). So before\nthe Lord of Heaven sent her away with her husband he called them both to\nhim and said, \"You must hurry away before Death comes, or he will wish\nto go with you. You must not let him do so, for he would only cause you\ntrouble and unhappiness.\" To this his daughter agreed, and she went to\npack up her things. She and her husband then took leave of the Lord of\nHeaven, who gave them at parting a piece of advice. \"Be sure,\" said he,\n\"if you have forgotten anything, not to come back for it; because, if\nyou do, Death will wish to go with you, and you must go without him.\" So\noff they set, the man and his wife, taking with them his cow and its\ncalves, also a sheep, a goat, a fowl, and a banana tree. But on the way\nthe woman remembered that she had forgotten the grain to feed the fowl,\nso she said to her husband, \"I must go back for the grain to feed the\nfowl, or it will die.\" Her husband tried to dissuade her, but in vain.\nShe said, \"I will hurry back and get it without any one seeing me.\" So\nback she went in an evil hour and said to her father the Lord of Heaven,\n\"I have forgotten the grain for the fowl and I am come back to fetch it\nfrom the doorway where I put it.\" Her father said sadly, \"Did I not tell\nyou that you were not to return if you had forgotten anything, because\nyour brother Death would wish to go with you? Now he will accompany\nyou.\" The woman fled, but Death saw her and followed hard after her.\nWhen she rejoined her husband, he was angry, for he saw Death and said,\n\"Why have you brought your brother with you? Who can live with him?\"\n\n[Sidenote: The importunity of Death.]\n\nWhen they reached the earth, Nambi planted her garden, and the bananas\nsprang up quickly and formed a grove. They lived happily for a time till\none day Death came and asked for one of their daughters, that she might\ngo away with him and be his cook. But the father said, \"If the Lord of\nHeaven comes and asks me for one of my children, what am I to say? Shall\nI tell him that I have given her to you to be your cook?\" Death was\nsilent and went away. But he came back another day and asked again for a\nchild to be his cook. When the father again refused, Death said, \"I will\nkill your children.\" The father did not know what that meant, so he\nasked Death, \"What is that you will do?\" However, in a short time one of\nthe children fell ill and died, and then another and another. So the man\nwent to the Lord of Heaven and complained that Death was taking away his\nchildren one by one. The Lord of Heaven said, \"Did I not tell you, when\nyou were going away, to go at once with your wife and not to return if\nyou had forgotten anything, but you let your wife return to fetch the\ngrain? Now you have Death living with you. If you had obeyed me, you\nwould have been free from him and not lost any of your children.\"\n\n[Sidenote: The hunt for Death.]\n\nHowever, the man pleaded with him, and the Lord Heaven at last consented\nto send Death's brother Kaikuzi to help the woman and to prevent Death\nfrom killing her children. So down came Kaikuzi to earth, and when he\nmet his brother Death they greeted each other lovingly. Then Kaikuzi\ntold Death that he had come to fetch him away from earth to heaven.\nDeath was willing to go, but he said, \"Let us take our sister too.\"\n\"Nay,\" said his brother, \"that cannot be, for she is a wife and must\nstay with her husband.\" The dispute waxed warm, Death insisting on\ncarrying off his sister, and his brother refusing to allow him to do so.\nAt last the brother angrily ordered Death to do as he was bid, and so\nsaying he made as though he would seize him. But Death slipped from\nbetween his hands and fled into the earth. For a long time after that\nthere was enmity between the two brothers. Kaikuzi tried in every way to\ncatch Death, but Death always escaped. At last Kaikuzi told the people\nthat he would have one final hunt for Death, and while the hunt was\ngoing on they must all stay in their houses; not a man, a woman, a\nchild, nor even an animal was to be allowed to pass the threshold; and\nif they saw Death passing the window, they were not to utter a cry of\nterror but to keep still. Well, for some days his orders were obeyed.\nNot a living soul, not an animal, stirred abroad. All without was\nsolitude, all within was silence. Encouraged by the universal stillness\nDeath emerged from his lair, and his brother was just about to catch\nhim, when some children, who had ventured out to herd their goats, saw\nDeath and cried out. Death's good brother rushed to the spot and asked\nthem why they had cried out. They said, \"Because we saw Death.\" So his\nbrother was angry because Death had again made good his escape into the\nearth, and he went to the first man and told him that he was weary of\nhunting Death and wished to return home to heaven. The first man thanked\nhim kindly for all he had done, and said, \"I fear there is nothing more\nto be done. We must only hope that Death will not kill all the people.\"\nIt was a vain hope. Since then Death has lived on earth and killed\neverybody who is born into the world; and always, after the deed of\nmurder is done, he escapes into the earth at Tanda in Singo.[103]\n\n[Sidenote: In the preceding story Death is distinctly personified. Death\npersonified in a West African story of the origin of death. Death and\nthe spider and the spider's daughter.]\n\nIf this curious tale of the origin of death reveals no very deep\nphilosophy, it is at least interesting for the distinctness with which\nDeath is conceived as a personal being, the son of the Lord of Heaven,\nthe brother of the first man's wife. In this personification of Death\nthe story differs from all the others which we have examined and marks\nan intellectual advance upon them; since the power of picturing abstract\nideas to the mind with all the sharpness of outline and vividness of\ncolour which are implied by personification is a faculty above the reach\nof very low intelligences. It is not surprising that the Baganda should\nhave attained to this power, for they are probably the most highly\ncultured and intellectual of all the many Bantu tribes of Africa. The\nsame conception of Death as a person occurs in a story of the origin of\ndeath which is told by the Hos, a negro tribe in Togoland, a district of\nWest Africa. These Hos belong to the Ewe-speaking family of the true\nnegroes, who have reached a comparatively high level of barbarism in the\nnotorious kingdom of Dahomey. The story which the Hos tell as to the\norigin of death is as follows. Once upon a time there was a great famine\nin which even the hunters could find no flesh to eat. Then Death went\nand made a road as broad as from here to Sokode, and there he set many\nsnares. Every animal that tried to pass that way fell into a snare. So\nDeath had much flesh to eat. One day the Spider came to Death and said\nto him, \"You have so much meat!\" and she asked if she might have some to\ntake home with her. Death gave her leave. So the Spider made a basket as\nlong as from Ho to Akoviewe (a distance of about five miles), crammed it\nfull of meat, and dragged it home. In return for this bounty the Spider\ngave Death her daughter Yiyisa to wife. So when Death had her for his\nwife, he gave her a hint. He said, \"Don't walk on the broad road which I\nhave made. Walk on the footpath which I have not made. When you go to\nthe water, be sure to take none but the narrow way through the wood.\"\nWell, some time afterwards it had rained a little; the grass was wet,\nand Yiyisa wished to go to the watering-place. When she tried to walk on\nthe narrow path through the forest, the tall damp grass wet her through\nand through, so she thought to herself, \"In future I will only go on the\nbroad road.\" But scarce had she set foot on the beautiful broad road\nwhen she fell into a snare and died on the spot. When Death came to the\nsnare and saw his wife in it dead, he cut her up into bits and toasted\nthem on the fire. One day the Spider paid a visit to her son-in-law\nDeath, and he set a good meal before her. When she had eaten and drunk\nher fill and had got up to go home, she asked Death after her daughter.\n\"If you take that meat from the fire,\" said Death, \"you will see her.\"\nSo the Spider took the flesh from the fire and there, sure enough, she\nfound her dead daughter. Then she went home in great wrath and whetted\nher knife till it was so sharp that a fly lighting on the edge was cut\nin two. With that knife she came back to attack Death. But Death shot an\narrow at her. She dodged it, and the arrow whizzed past her and set all\nthe forest on fire. Then the Spider flung her sharp knife at Death, but\nit missed him and only sliced off the tops of the palms and all the\nother trees of the wood. Seeing that her stroke had failed, the Spider\nfled away home and shut herself up in her house. But Death waited for\nher on the edge of the town to kill her as soon as she ventured out.\nNext morning some women came out of the town to draw water at the\nwatering-place, and as they went they talked with one another. But Death\nshot an arrow among them and killed several. The rest ran away home\nand said, \"So and so is dead.\" Then Death came and looked at the bodies\nand said, \"That is my game. I need go no more into the wood to hunt.\"\nThat is how Death came into the world. If the Spider had not done what\nshe did, nobody would ever have died.[104]\n\n[Sidenote: Death personified in a Melanesian story of the origin of\ndeath.]\n\nAgain, the Melanesians of the Banks Islands tell a story of the origin\nof Death, in which that grim power is personified. They say that Death\n(_Mate_) used to live underground in a shadowy realm called Panoi, while\nmen on earth changed their skins like serpents and so renewing their\nyouth lived for ever. But a practical inconvenience of immortality was\nthat property never changed hands; newcomers had no chance, everything\nwas monopolised by the old, old stagers. To remedy this state of things\nand secure a more equitable distribution of property Death was induced\nto emerge from the lower world and to appear on earth among men; he came\nrelying on an assurance that no harm would be done him. Well, when they\nhad him, they laid him out on a board, covered him with a pall as if he\nwere a corpse, and then proceeded with great gusto to divide his\nproperty and eat the funeral feast. On the fifth day they blew the conch\nshell to drive away the ghost, as usual, and lifted the pall to see what\nhad become of Death. But there was no Death there; he had absconded\nleaving only his skeleton behind. They naturally feared that he had made\noff with an intention to return to his home underground, which would\nhave been a great calamity; for if there were no Death on earth, how\ncould men die and how could other people inherit their property? The\nidea was intolerable; so to cut off the retreat of the fugitive, the\nFool was set to do sentinel duty at the parting of the ways, where one\nroad leads down to the underworld, Death's home, and the other leads up\nto the upper world, the abode of the living. Here accordingly the Fool\nwas stationed with strict orders to keep his eye on Death if he should\nattempt to sneak past him and return to the nether world. However, the\nFool, like a fool as he was, sat watching the road to the upper world,\nand Death slipped behind him and so made good his retreat. Since then\nall men have followed Death down that fatal path.[105]\n\n[Sidenote: Thus according to savages death is not a necessary part of\nthe order of nature. A similar view is held by some eminent modern\nbiologists.]\n\nSo much for savage stories of the origin of death. They all imply a\nbelief that death is not a necessary part of the order of nature, but\nthat it originated in a pure mistake or misdeed of some sort on\nsomebody's part, and that we should all have lived happy and immortal if\nit had not been for that disastrous blunder or crime. Thus the tales\nreflect the same frame of mind which I illustrated in the last lecture,\nwhen I shewed that many savages still to this day believe all men to be\nnaturally immortal and death to be nothing but an effect of sorcery. In\nshort, whether we regard the savage's attitude to death at the present\nday or his ideas as to its origin in the remote past, we must conclude\nthat primitive man cannot reconcile himself to the notion of death as a\nnatural and necessary event; he persists in regarding it as an\naccidental and unnecessary disturbance of the proper order of nature. To\na certain extent, perhaps, in these crude speculations he has\nanticipated certain views of modern biology. Thus it has been maintained\nby Professor August Weissmann that death is not a natural necessity,\nthat many of the lowest species of living animals do in fact live for\never; and that in the higher animals the custom of dying has been\nintroduced in the course of evolution for the purpose of thinning the\npopulation and preventing the degeneration of the species, which would\notherwise follow through the gradual and necessary deterioration of the\nimmortal individuals, who, though they could not die, might yet sustain\nmuch bodily damage through hard knocks in the hurly-burly of eternal\nexistence on earth.\n\n[Sidenote: Weissmann's view that death is not a natural necessity but an\nadaptation acquired in the course of evolution for the advantage of the\nrace.]\n\nOn this subject I will quote some sentences from Professor Weissmann's\nessay on the duration of life. He says, \"The necessity of death has been\nhitherto explained as due to causes which are inherent in organic\nnature, and not to the fact that it may be advantageous. I do not\nhowever believe in the validity of this explanation; I consider that\ndeath is not a primary necessity, but that it has been secondarily\nacquired as an adaptation. I believe that life is endowed with a fixed\nduration, not because it is contrary to its nature to be unlimited, but\nbecause the unlimited existence of individuals would be a luxury without\nany corresponding advantage. The above-mentioned hypothesis upon the\norigin and necessity of death leads me to believe that the organism did\nnot finally cease to renew the worn-out cell material because the nature\nof the cells did not permit them to multiply indefinitely, but because\nthe power of multiplying indefinitely was lost when it ceased to be of\nuse.... John Hunter, supported by his experiments on _anabiosis_, hoped\nto prolong the life of man indefinitely by alternate freezing and\nthawing; and the Veronese Colonel Aless. Guaguino made his\ncontemporaries believe that a race of men existed in Russia, of which\nthe individuals died regularly every year on the 27th of November, and\nreturned to life on the 24th of the following April. There cannot\nhowever be the least doubt, that the higher organisms, as they are now\nconstructed, contain within themselves the germs of death. The question\nhowever arises as to how this has come to pass; and I reply that death\nis to be looked upon as an occurrence which is advantageous to the\nspecies as a concession to the outer conditions of life, and not as an\nabsolute necessity, essentially inherent in life itself. Death, that is\nthe end of life, is by no means, as is usually assumed, an attribute of\nall organisms. An immense number of low organisms do not die, although\nthey are easily destroyed, being killed by heat, poisons, etc. As long,\nhowever, as those conditions which are necessary for their life are\nfulfilled, they continue to live, and they thus carry the potentiality\nof unending life in themselves. I am speaking not only of the Amoebae\nand the low unicellular Algae, but also of far more highly organized\nunicellular animals, such as the Infusoria.\"[106]\n\n[Sidenote: Similar view expressed by Alfred Russel Wallace.]\n\nA similar suggestion that death is not a natural necessity but an\ninnovation introduced for the good of the breed, has been made by our\neminent English biologist, Mr. Alfred Russel Wallace. He says: \"If\nindividuals did not die they would soon multiply inordinately and would\ninterfere with each other's healthy existence. Food would become scarce,\nand hence the larger individuals would probably decompose or diminish in\nsize. The deficiency of nourishment would lead to parts of the organism\nnot being renewed; they would become fixed, and liable to more or less\nslow decomposition as dead parts within a living body. The smaller\norganisms would have a better chance of finding food, the larger ones\nless chance. That one which gave off several small portions to form each\na new organism would have a better chance of leaving descendants like\nitself than one which divided equally or gave off a large part of\nitself. Hence it would happen that those which gave off very small\nportions would probably soon after cease to maintain their own existence\nwhile they would leave a numerous offspring. This state of things would\nbe in any case for the advantage of the race, and would therefore, by\nnatural selection, soon become established as the regular course of\nthings, and thus we have the origin of _old age, decay, and death_; for\nit is evident that when one or more individuals have provided a\nsufficient number of successors they themselves, as consumers of\nnourishment in a constantly increasing degree, are an injury to their\nsuccessors. Natural selection therefore weeds them out, and in many\ncases favours such races as die almost immediately after they have left\nsuccessors. Many moths and other insects are in this condition, living\nonly to propagate their kind and then immediately dying, some not even\ntaking any food in the perfect and reproductive state.\"[107]\n\n[Sidenote: Savages and some men of science agree that death is not a\nnatural necessity.]\n\nThus it appears that two of the most eminent biologists of our time\nagree with savages in thinking that death is by no means a natural\nnecessity for all living beings. They only differ from savages in this,\nthat whereas savages look upon death as the result of a deplorable\naccident, our men of science regard it as a beneficent reform instituted\nby nature as a means of adjusting the numbers of living beings to the\nquantity of the food supply, and so tending to the improvement and\ntherefore on the whole to the happiness of the species.\n\n[Footnote 57: H. Callaway, _The Religious System of the Amazulu_, Part\ni. pp. 1, 3 _sq._, Part ii. p. 138; Rev. L. Grout, _Zululand, or Life\namong the Zulu-Kafirs_ (Philadelphia, N.D.), pp. 148 _sq._; Dudley Kidd,\n_The Essential Kafir_ (London, 1904), pp. 76 _sq._ Compare A. F.\nGardiner, _Narrative of a Journey to the Zoolu Country_ (London, 1836),\npp. 178 _sq._, T. Arbousset et F. Daumas, _Relation d'un voyage\nd'Exploration au Nord-Est de la Colonie du Cap de Bonne-Esperance_\n(Paris, 1842), p. 472; Rev. J. Shooter, _The Kafirs of Natal and the\nZulu Country_ (London, 1857), p. 159; W. H. I. Bleek, _Reynard the Fox in\nSouth Africa_ (London, 1864), p. 74; D. Leslie, _Among the Zulus and\nAmatongas_, Second Edition (Edinburgh, 1875), p. 209; F. Speckmann, _Die\nHermannsburger Mission in Afrika_ (Hermannsburg, 1876), p. 164.]\n\n[Footnote 58: J. Chapman, _Travels in the Interior of South Africa_\n(London, 1868), i. 47.]\n\n[Footnote 59: E. Casalis, _The Basutos_ (London, 1861), p. 242; E.\nJacottet, _The Treasury of Ba-suto Lore_, i. (Morija, Basutoland, 1908),\npp. 46 _sqq._]\n\n[Footnote 60: H. A. Junod, _Les Ba-Ronga_ Neuchatel (1898), pp. 401\n_sq._]\n\n[Footnote 61: W. A. Elmslie, _Among the Wild Ngoni_ (Edinburgh and\nLondon, 1899), p. 70.]\n\n[Footnote 62: H. A. Junod and W. A. Elmslie, _ll.cc._]\n\n[Footnote 63: C. W. Hobley, _Ethnology of A-Kamba and other East African\nTribes_ (Cambridge, 1910), pp. 107-109.]\n\n[Footnote 64: Fr. Mueller, \"Die Religionen Togos in Einzeldarstellungen,\"\n_Anthropos_, ii. (1907) p. 203. In a version of the story reported from\nCalabar a sheep appears as the messenger of mortality, while a dog is\nthe messenger of immortality or rather of resurrection. See \"Calabar\nStories,\" _Journal of the African Society_, No. 18 (January 1906), p.\n194.]\n\n[Footnote 65: E. Perregaux, _Chez les Achanti_ (Neuchatel, 1906), pp.\n198 _sq._]\n\n[Footnote 66: E. Perregaux, _op. cit._ p. 199.]\n\n[Footnote 67: Sir J. E. Alexander, _Expedition of Discovery into the\nInterior of Africa_ (London, 1838), i. 169; C. J. Andersson, _Lake\nNgami_, Second Edition (London, 1856), pp. 328 _sq._; W. H. I. Bleek,\n_Reynard the Fox in South Africa_ (London, 1864), pp. 71-73; Th. Hahn,\n_Tsuni-Goam, the Supreme Being of the Khoi-Khoi_ (London, 1881), p. 52.]\n\n[Footnote 68: W. H. I. Bleek, _A Brief Account of Bushman Folk-lore_\n(London, 1875), pp. 9 _sq._]\n\n[Footnote 69: W. H. I. Bleek, _Reynard the Fox in South Africa_, pp. 69\n_sq._]\n\n[Footnote 70: A. C. Hollis, _The Masai_ (Oxford, 1905), pp. 271 _sq._]\n\n[Footnote 71: A. C. Hollis, _The Nandi_ (Oxford, 1909), p. 98.]\n\n[Footnote 72: Captain W. E. H. Barrett, \"Notes on the Customs and\nBeliefs of the Wa-Giriama, etc., British East Africa,\" _Journal of the\nR. Anthropological Institute_, xli. (1911) p. 37.]\n\n[Footnote 73: Th. Williams, _Fiji and the Fijians_, Second Edition\n(London, 1860), i. 205.]\n\n[Footnote 74: _Lettres Edifiantes et Curieuses_, Nouvelle Edition, xv.\n(Paris, 1781) pp. 305 _sq._]\n\n[Footnote 75: A. W. Howitt, _Native Tribes of South-East Australia_\n(London, 1904), pp. 428 _sq._]\n\n[Footnote 76: Antoine Cabaton, _Nouvelles Recherches sur les Chams_\n(Paris, 1901), pp. 18 _sq._]\n\n[Footnote 77: Baldwin Spencer and F. J. Gillen, _Northern Tribes of\nCentral Australia_ (London, 1904), pp. 513 _sq._]\n\n[Footnote 78: Father G. Boscana, \"Chinigchinich,\" in _Life in\nCalifornia, by an American_ [A. Robinson] (New York, 1846), pp. 298\n_sq._]\n\n[Footnote 79: Merolla, \"Voyage to Congo,\" in J. Pinkerton's _Voyages and\nTravels_, xvi. (London, 1814) p. 273.]\n\n[Footnote 80: P. A. Kleintitschen, _Die Kuestenbewohner der\nGazellehalbinsel_ (Hiltrup bei Muenster, N.D.), p. 334.]\n\n[Footnote 81: A. Landes, \"Contes et Legendes Annamites,\" _Cochinchine\nfrancaise, Excursions et Reconnaissances_, No. 25 (Saigon, 1886), pp.\n108 _sq._]\n\n[Footnote 82: Otto Meyer, \"Mythen und Erzaehlungen von der Insel Vuatom\n(Bismarck-Archipel, Suedsee),\" _Anthropos_, v. (1910) p. 724.]\n\n[Footnote 83: H. Sundermann, \"Die Insel Nias und die Mission daselbst,\"\n_Allgemeine Missions-Zeitschrift_, xi. (1884) p. 451; E. Modigliani, _Un\nViaggio a Nias_ (Milan, 1890), p. 295.]\n\n[Footnote 84: R. Schomburgk, _Reisen in Britisch-Guiana_ (Leipsig,\n1847-1848), ii. 319.]\n\n[Footnote 85: R. Schomburgk, _op. cit._ ii. 320.]\n\n[Footnote 86: R. H. Codrington, _The Melanesians_ (Oxford, 1891), p.\n265; W. Gray, \"Some Notes on the Tannese,\" _Internationales Archiv fuer\nEthnographie_, vii. (1894) p. 232.]\n\n[Footnote 87: C. Ribbe, _Zwei Jahre unter den Kannibalen der\nSalomo-Inseln_ (Dresden-Blasowitz, 1903), p. 148.]\n\n[Footnote 88: Ch. Keysser, \"Aus dem Leben der Kaileute,\" in R.\nNeuhauss's _Deutsch Neu-Guinea_ (Berlin, 1911), iii. 161 _sq._]\n\n[Footnote 89: Josef Meier, \"Mythen und Sagen der Admiralitaetsinsulaner,\"\n_Anthropos_, iii. (1908) p. 193.]\n\n[Footnote 90: George Brown, D.D., _Melanesians and Polynesians_ (London,\n1910), p. 365; George Turner, LL.D., _Samoa_ (London, 1884), pp. 8\n_sq._]\n\n[Footnote 91: See above, p. 70.]\n\n[Footnote 92: A. C. Kruijt, \"De legenden der Poso-Alfoeren aangaande de\nerste menschen,\" _Mededeelingen van wege het Nederlandsche\nZendelinggenootschap_, xxxviii. (1894) p. 340.]\n\n[Footnote 93: D. F. A. Hervey, \"The Mentra Traditions,\" _Journal of the\nStraits Branch of the Royal Asiatic Society_, No. 10 (December 1882), p.\n190; W. W. Skeat and C. O. Blagden, _Pagan Races of the Malay Peninsula_\n(London, 1906), ii. 337 _sq._]\n\n[Footnote 94: Guerlach, \"Moeurs et Superstitions des sauvages Ba-hnars,\"\n_Missions Catholiques_, xix. (1887) p. 479.]\n\n[Footnote 95: (Sir) J. G. Scott and J. P. Hardiman, _Gazetteer of Upper\nBurma and the Shan States_, Part i. vol. i. (Rangoon, 1900) pp. 408\n_sq._]\n\n[Footnote 96: R. Brough Smyth, _The Aborigines of Victoria_ (Melbourne\nand London, 1878), i. 428. On this narrative the author remarks: \"This\nstory appears to bear too close a resemblance to the Biblical account of\nthe Fall. Is it genuine or not? Mr. Bulmer admits that it may have been\ninvented by the aborigines after they had heard something of Scripture\nhistory.\"]\n\n[Footnote 97: Th. Williams, _Fiji and the Fijians_, Second Edition\n(London, 1860), i. 204 _sq._ For another Fijian story of the origin of\ndeath, see above, p. 67.]\n\n[Footnote 98: Josef Meier, \"Mythen und Sagen der Admiralitaetsinsulaner,\"\n_Anthropos_, iii. (1908) p. 194.]\n\n[Footnote 99: Josef Meier, _op. cit._ pp. 194 _sq._]\n\n[Footnote 100: C. Gouldsbury and H. Sheane, _The Great Plateau of\nNorthern Rhodesia_ (London, 1911), pp. 80 _sq._ A like tale is told by\nthe Balolo of the Upper Congo. See _Folk-lore_, xii. (1901) p. 461; and\nbelow, p. 472.]\n\n[Footnote 101: J. Mooney, \"Myths of the Cherokee,\" _Nineteenth Annual\nReport of the Bureau of American Ethnology_, Part i. (Washington, 1900)\np. 436, quoting \"the Payne manuscript, of date about 1835.\" Compare\n_id._, pp. 252-254, 436 _sq._]\n\n[Footnote 102: _Relations des Jesuites_, 1634, p. 13 (Canadian reprint,\nQuebec, 1858).]\n\n[Footnote 103: Sir Harry Johnston, _The Uganda Protectorate_ (London,\n1904), ii. 700-705 (the story was taken down by Mr. J. F. Cunningham);\nRev. J. Roscoe, _The Baganda_ (London, 1911), pp. 460-464. The story is\nbriefly told by Mr. L. Decle, _Three Years in Savage Africa_ (London,\n1898), pp. 439 _sq._]\n\n[Footnote 104: J. Spieth, _Die Ewe-Staemme_ (Berlin, 1906), pp. 590-593.]\n\n[Footnote 105: R. H. Codrington, _The Melanesians_ (Oxford, 1891), pp.\n265 _sq._]\n\n[Footnote 106: A. Weissmann, _Essays upon Heredity and Kindred\nBiological Problems_, vol. i. (Oxford, 1891) pp. 25 _sq._]\n\n[Footnote 107: A. R. Wallace, quoted in A. Weissmann's _Essays upon\nHeredity_, i. (Oxford, 1891) p. 24 note.]\n\n\n\n\nLECTURE IV\n\nTHE BELIEF IN IMMORTALITY AMONG THE ABORIGINES OF CENTRAL AUSTRALIA\n\n\n[Sidenote: Proposed survey of the belief in immortality and the worship\nof the dead, as these are found among the various races of men,\nbeginning with the lowest savages.]\n\nIn previous lectures we have considered the ideas which savages in\ngeneral entertain of death and its origin. To-day we begin our survey of\nthe beliefs and practices of particular races in regard to the dead. I\npropose to deal separately with some of the principal races of men and\nto shew in detail how the belief in human immortality and the worship of\nthe dead, to which that belief naturally gives rise, have formed a more\nor less important element of their religion. And in order to trace as\nfar as possible the evolution of that worship in history I shall begin\nwith the lowest savages about whom we possess accurate information, and\nshall pass from them to higher races until, if time permitted, we might\ncome to the civilised nations of antiquity and of modern times. In this\nway, by comparing the ideas and practices of peoples on different planes\nof culture we may be able approximately to reconstruct or represent to\nourselves with a fair degree of probability the various stages through\nwhich this particular phase of religion may be supposed to have passed\nin the great civilised races before the dawn of history. Of course all\nsuch reconstructions must be more or less conjectural. In the absence of\nhistorical documents that is inevitable; but our reconstruction will be\nmore or less probable according to the degree in which the corresponding\nstages of evolution are found to resemble or differ from each other in\nthe various races of men. If we find that tribes at approximately the\nsame level of culture in different parts of the world have approximately\nthe same religion, we may fairly infer that religion is in a sense a\nfunction of culture, and therefore that all races which have traversed\nthe same stages of culture in the past have traversed also the same\nstages of religion; in short that, allowing for many minor variations,\nwhich flow inevitably from varying circumstances such as climate, soil,\nracial temperament, and so forth, the course of religious development\nhas on the whole been uniform among mankind. This enquiry may be called\nthe embryology of religion, in as much as it seeks to do for the\ndevelopment of religion what embryology in the strict sense of the word\nattempts to do for the development of life. And just as biology or the\nscience of life naturally begins with the study of the lowest sorts of\nliving beings, the humble protozoa, so we shall begin our enquiry with a\nstudy of the lowest savages of whom we possess a comparatively full and\naccurate record, namely, the aborigines of Australia.\n\n[Sidenote: Savagery a case not of degeneracy but of arrested or rather\nretarded development.]\n\nAt the outset I would ask you to bear in mind that, so far as evidence\nallows us to judge, savagery in all its phases appears to be nothing but\na case of arrested or rather retarded development. The old view that\nsavages have degenerated from a higher level of culture, on which their\nforefathers once stood, is destitute alike of evidence and of\nprobability. On the contrary, the information which we possess as to the\nlower races, meagre and fragmentary as it unfortunately is, all seems to\npoint to the conclusion that on the whole even the most savage tribes\nhave reached their low level of culture from one still lower, and that\nthe upward movement, though so slow as to be almost imperceptible, has\nyet been real and steady up to the point where savagery has come into\ncontact with civilisation. The moment of such contact is a critical one\nfor the savages. If the intellectual, moral, and social interval which\ndivides them from the civilised intruders exceeds a certain degree, then\nit appears that sooner or later the savages must inevitably perish; the\nshock of collision with a stronger race is too violent to be withstood,\nthe weaker goes to the wall and is shattered. But if on the other hand\nthe breach between the two conflicting races is not so wide as to be\nimpassable, there is a hope that the weaker may assimilate enough of the\nhigher culture of the other to survive. It was so, for example, with our\nbarbarous forefathers in contact with the ancient civilisations of\nGreece and Rome; and it may be so in future with some, for example, of\nthe black races of the present day in contact with European\ncivilisation. Time will shew. But among the savages who cannot\npermanently survive the shock of collision with Europe may certainly be\nnumbered the aborigines of Australia. They are rapidly dwindling and\nwasting away, and before very many years have passed it is probable that\nthey will be extinct like the Tasmanians, who, so far as we can judge\nfrom the miserably imperfect records of them which we possess, appear to\nhave been savages of an even lower type than the Australians, and\ntherefore to have been still less able to survive in the struggle for\nexistence with their vigorous European rivals.\n\n[Sidenote: Physical causes which have retarded progress in Australia.]\n\nThe causes which have retarded progress in Australia and kept the\naboriginal population at the lowest level of savagery appear to be\nmainly two; namely, first, the geographical isolation and comparatively\nsmall area of the continent, and, second, the barren and indeed desert\nnature of a great part of its surface; for the combined effect of these\ncauses has been, by excluding foreign competitors and seriously\nrestricting the number of competitors at home, to abate the rigour of\ncompetition and thereby to restrain the action of one of the most\npowerful influences which make for progress. In other words, elements of\nweakness have been allowed to linger on, which under the sterner\nconditions of life entailed by fierce competition would long ago have\nbeen eliminated and have made way for elements better adapted to the\nenvironment. What is true of the human inhabitants of Australia in this\nrespect is true also of its fauna and flora. It has long been recognised\nthat the animals and plants of Australia represent on the whole more\narchaic types of life than the animals and plants of the larger\ncontinents; and the reason why these antiquated creatures have survived\nthere rather than elsewhere is mainly that, the area of competition\nbeing so much restricted through the causes I have mentioned, these\ncomparatively weak forms of animal and vegetable life have not been\nkilled off by stronger competitors. That this is the real cause appears\nto be proved by the rapidity with which many animals and plants\nintroduced into Australia from Europe tend to overrun the country and to\noust the old native fauna and flora.[108]\n\n[Sidenote: In the centre of Australia the natural conditions of life are\nmost unfavourable; hence the central aborigines have remained in a more\nprimitive state than those of the coasts, where food and water are more\nplentiful.]\n\nI have said that among the causes which have kept the aborigines of\nAustralia at a very low level of savagery must be reckoned the desert\nnature of a great part of the country. Now it is the interior of the\ncontinent which is the most arid, waste, and barren. The coasts are\ncomparatively fertile, for they are watered by showers condensed from an\natmosphere which is charged with moisture by the neighbouring sea; and\nthis condensation is greatly facilitated in the south-eastern and\neastern parts of the continent by a high range of mountains which here\nskirts the coast for a long distance, attracting the moisture from the\nocean and precipitating it in the form of snow and rain. Thus the\nvegetation and hence the supply of food both animal and vegetable in\nthese well-watered portions of the continent are varied and plentiful.\nIn striking contrast with the fertility and abundance of these favoured\nregions are the stony plains and bare rocky ranges of the interior,\nwhere water is scarce, vegetation scanty, and animal life at certain\nseasons of the year can only with difficulty be maintained. It would be\nno wonder if the natives of these arid sun-scorched wildernesses should\nhave lagged behind even their savage brethren of the coasts in respect\nof material and social progress; and in fact there are many indications\nthat they have done so, in other words, that the aborigines of the more\nfertile districts near the sea have made a greater advance towards\ncivilisation than the tribes of the desert interior. This is the view of\nmen who have studied the Australian savages most deeply at first hand,\nand, so far as I can judge of the matter without any such first-hand\nacquaintance, I entirely agree with their opinion. I have given my\nreasons elsewhere and shall not repeat them here. All that I wish to\nimpress on you now is that in aboriginal Australia a movement of social\nand intellectual progress, slow but perceptible, appears to have been\nsetting from the coast inwards, and that, so far as such things can be\nreferred to physical causes, this particular movement in Australia would\nseem to have been initiated by the sea acting through an abundant\nrainfall and a consequent abundant supply of food.[109]\n\n[Sidenote: Backward state of the Central Australian aborigines. They\nhave no idea of a moral supreme being.]\n\nAccordingly, in attempting to give you some account of the belief in\nimmortality and the worship of the dead among the various races of\nmankind, I propose to begin with the natives of Central Australia,\nfirst, because the Australian aborigines are the most primitive savages\nabout whom we have full and accurate information, and, second, because\namong these primitive savages the inhabitants of the central deserts are\non the whole the most primitive. Like their brethren in the rest of the\ncontinent they were in their native condition absolutely ignorant of\nmetals and of agriculture; they had no domestic animals except the dog,\nand they subsisted wholly by the products of the chase and the natural\nfruits, roots, and seeds, which the ground yielded without cultivation\nof any sort. In regard to their intellectual outlook upon the world,\nthey were deeply imbued, as I shewed in a former lecture, with a belief\nin magic, but it can hardly be said that they possessed any religion in\nthe strict sense of the word, by which I mean a propitiation of real or\nimaginary powers regarded as personal beings superior to man: certainly\nthe Australian aborigines appear to have believed in no beings who\ndeserve to be called gods. On this subject Messrs. Spencer and Gillen,\nour best authorities on these tribes, observe as follows: \"The Central\nAustralian natives--and this is true of the tribes extending from Lake\nEyre in the south to the far north and eastwards across to the Gulf of\nCarpentaria--have no idea whatever of the existence of any supreme being\nwho is pleased if they follow a certain line of what we call moral\nconduct and displeased if they do not do so. They have not the vaguest\nidea of a personal individual other than an actual living member of the\ntribe who approves or disapproves of their conduct, so far as anything\nlike what we call morality is concerned. Any such idea as that of a\nfuture life of happiness or the reverse, as a reward for meritorious or\nas a punishment for blameworthy conduct, is quite foreign to them.... We\nknow of no tribe in which there is a belief of any kind in a supreme\nbeing who rewards or punishes the individual according to his moral\nbehaviour, using the word moral in the native sense.\"[110]\n\n[Sidenote: Central Australian theory that the souls of the dead survive\nand are afterwards reborn as infants.]\n\nBut if the aborigines of Central Australia have no religion properly so\ncalled, they entertain beliefs and they observe practices out of which\nunder favourable circumstances a religion might have been developed, if\nits evolution had not been arrested by the advent of Europeans. Among\nthese elements of natural religion one of the most important is the\ntheory which these savages hold as to the existence and nature of the\ndead. That theory is a very remarkable one. With a single exception,\nwhich I shall mention presently, they unanimously believe that death is\nnot the end of all things for the individual, but that the human\npersonality survives, apparently with little change, in the form of a\nspirit, which may afterwards be reborn as a child into the world. In\nfact they think that every living person without exception is the\nreincarnation of a dead person who lived on earth a longer or shorter\ntime ago. This belief is held universally by the tribes which occupy an\nimmense area of Australia from the centre northwards to the Gulf of\nCarpentaria.[111] The single exception to which I have referred is\nfurnished by the Gnanji, a fierce and wild-looking tribe who eat their\ndead enemies and perhaps also their dead friends.[112] These savages\ndeny that women have spirits which live after death; when a woman dies,\nthat, they say, is the end of her. On the other hand, the spirit of a\ndead man, in their opinion, survives and goes to and fro on the earth\nvisiting the places where his forefathers camped in days of old and\ndestined to be born again of a woman at some future time, when the rains\nhave fallen and bleached his bones.[113] But why these primitive\nphilosophers should deny the privilege of immortality to women and\nreserve it exclusively for men, is not manifest. All other Central\nAustralian tribes appear to admit the rights of women equally with the\nrights of men in a life beyond the grave.\n\n[Sidenote: Central Australian theory as to the state of the dead.\nCertain conspicuous features of the landscape supposed to be tenanted by\nthe souls of the dead waiting to be born again.]\n\nWith regard to the state of the souls of the dead in the intervals\nbetween their successive reincarnations, the opinions of the Central\nAustralian savages are clear and definite. Most civilised races who\nbelieve in the immortality of the soul have found themselves compelled\nto confess that, however immortal the spirits of the departed may be,\nthey do not present themselves commonly to our eyes or ears, nor meddle\nmuch with the affairs of the living; hence the survivors have for the\nmost part inferred that the dead do not hover invisible in our midst,\nbut that they dwell somewhere, far away, in the height of heaven, or in\nthe depth of earth, or in Islands of the Blest beyond the sea where the\nsun goes down. Not so with the simple aborigines of Australia. They\nimagine that the spirits of the dead continue to haunt their native land\nand especially certain striking natural features of the landscape, it\nmay be a pool of water in a deep gorge of the barren hills, or a\nsolitary tree in the sun-baked plains, or a great rock that affords a\nwelcome shade in the sultry noon. Such spots are thought to be tenanted\nby the souls of the departed waiting to be born again. There they lurk,\nconstantly on the look-out for passing women into whom they may enter,\nand from whom in due time they may be born as infants. It matters not\nwhether the woman be married or unmarried, a matron or a maid, a\nblooming girl or a withered hag: any woman may conceive directly by the\nentrance into her of one of these disembodied spirits; but the natives\nhave shrewdly observed that the spirits shew a decided preference for\nplump young women. Hence when such a damsel is passing near a plot of\nhaunted ground, if she does not wish to become a mother, she will\ndisguise herself as an aged crone and hobble past, saying in a thin\ncracked voice, \"Don't come to me. I am an old woman.\" Such spots are\noften stones, which the natives call child-stones because the souls of\nthe dead are there lying in wait for women in order to be born as\nchildren. One such stone, for example, may be seen in the land of the\nArunta tribe near Alice Springs. It projects to a height of three feet\nfrom the ground among the mulga scrub, and there is a round hole in it\nthrough which the souls of dead plum-tree people are constantly peeping,\nready to pounce out on a likely damsel. Again, in the territory of the\nWarramunga tribe the ghosts of black-snake people are supposed to gather\nin the rocks round certain pools or in the gum-trees which border the\ngenerally dry bed of a water-course. No Warramunga woman would dare to\nstrike one of these trees with an axe, because she is firmly convinced\nthat in doing so she would set free one of the lurking black-snake\nspirits, who would immediately dart into her body. They think that the\nspirits are no larger than grains of sand and that they make their way\ninto women through the navel. Nor is it merely by direct contact with\none of these repositories of souls, nor yet by passing near it, that\nwomen may be gotten with child against their wish. The Arunta believe\nthat any malicious man may by magic cause a woman or even a child to\nbecome a mother: he has only to go to one of the child-stones and rub it\nwith his hands, muttering the words, \"Plenty of young women. You look\nand go quickly.\"[114]\n\n[Sidenote: As a rule, only the souls of persons of one particular\ntotemic clan are thought to congregate in one place.]\n\nA remarkable feature in these gathering-places of the dead remains to be\nnoticed. The society at each of them is very select. The ghosts are very\nclannish; as a rule none but people of one particular totemic clan are\nsupposed to for-gather at any one place. For example, we have just seen\nthat in the Arunta tribe the souls of dead people of the plum-tree totem\ncongregate at a certain stone in the mulga scrub, and that in the\nWarramunga tribe the spirits of deceased persons who had black snakes\nfor their totem haunt certain gum-trees. The same thing applies to most\nof the other haunts of the dead in Central Australia. Whether the totem\nwas a kangaroo or an emu, a rat or a bat, a hawk or a cockatoo, a bee or\na fly, a yam or a grass seed, the sun or the moon, fire or water,\nlightning or the wind, it matters not what the totem was, only the\nghosts of people of one totemic clan meet for the most part in one\nplace; thus one rock will be tenanted by the spirits of kangaroo folk\nonly, and another by spirits of emu folk only; one water-pool will be\nthe home of dead rat people alone, and another the haunt of none but\ndead bat people; and so on with most of the other abodes of the souls.\nHowever, in the Urabunna tribe the ghosts are not so exclusive; some of\nthem consent to share their abode with people of other totems. For\nexample, a certain pool of water is haunted by the spirits of folk who\nin their lifetime had for their totems respectively the emu, rain, and a\ncertain grub. On the other hand a group of granite boulders is inhabited\nonly by the souls of persons of the pigeon totem.[115]\n\n[Sidenote: Totemism defined.]\n\nPerhaps for the sake of some of my hearers I should say a word as to the\nmeaning of totems and totemism. The subject is a large one and is still\nunder discussion. For our present purpose it is not necessary that I\nshould enter into details; I will therefore only say that a totem is\ncommonly a class of natural objects, usually a species of animals or\nplants, with which a savage identifies himself in a curious way,\nimagining that he himself and his kinsfolk are for all practical\npurposes kangaroos or emus, rats or bats, hawks or cockatoos, yams or\ngrass-seed, and so on, according to the particular class of natural\nobjects which he claims as his totem. The origin of this remarkable\nidentification of men with animals, plants, or other things is still\nmuch debated; my own view is that the key to the mystery is furnished by\nthe Australian beliefs as to birth and rebirth which I have just\ndescribed to you; but on that subject I will not now dwell.[116] All\nthat I ask you to remember is that in Central Australia there is no\ngeneral gathering-place for the spirits of the departed; the souls are\nsorted out more or less strictly according to their totems and dwell\napart each in their own little preserve or preserves, on which ghosts of\nother totems are supposed seldom or never to trespass. Thus the whole\ncountry-side is dotted at intervals with these spiritual parks or\nreservations, which are respected by the natives as the abodes of their\ndeparted kinsfolk. In size they vary from a few square yards to many\nsquare miles.[117]\n\n[Sidenote: Traditionary origin of the local totem centres\n(_oknanikilla_) where the souls of the dead are supposed to assemble.\nThe sacred sticks or stones (_churinga_) which the totemic ancestors\ncarried about with them.]\n\nThe way in which these spiritual preserves originated is supposed to be\nas follows. In the earliest days of which the aborigines retain a\ntradition, and to which they give the name of the _alcheringa_ or dream\ntimes, their remote ancestors roamed about the country in bands, each\nband composed of people of the same totem. Thus one band would consist\nof frog people only, another of witchetty grub people only, another of\nHakea flower people only, and so on. Now in regard to the nature of\nthese remote totemic ancestors of the _alcheringa_ or dream times, the\nideas of the natives are very hazy; they do not in fact clearly\ndistinguish their human from their totemic nature; in speaking, for\nexample, of a man of the kangaroo totem they seem unable to discriminate\nsharply between the man and the animal: perhaps we may say that what is\nbefore their mind is a blurred image, a sort of composite photograph, of\na man and a kangaroo in one: the man is semi-bestial, the kangaroo is\nsemi-human. And similarly with their ancestors of all other totems: if\nthe particular ancestors, for example, had the bean-tree for their\ntotem, then their descendants in thinking of them might, like the blind\nman in the Gospel, see in their mind's eye men walking like trees and\ntrees perambulating like men. Now each of these semi-human ancestors is\nthought to have carried about with him on his peregrinations one or more\nsacred sticks or stones of a peculiar pattern, to which the Arunta give\nthe name of _churinga_: they are for the most part oval or elongated and\nflattened stones or slabs of wood, varying in length from a few inches\nto over five feet, and inscribed with a variety of patterns which\nrepresent or have reference to the totems. But the patterns are purely\nconventional, consisting of circles, curved lines, spirals, and dots\nwith no attempt to represent natural objects pictorially. Each of these\nsacred stones or sticks was intimately associated with the spirit part\nof the man or woman who carried it; for women as well as men had their\n_churinga_. When these semi-human ancestors died, they went into the\nground, leaving their sacred stones or sticks behind them on the spot,\nand in every case some natural feature arose to mark the place, it might\nbe a tree, a rock, a pool of water, or what not. The memory of all such\nspots has been carefully preserved and handed down from generation to\ngeneration by the old men, and it is to these spots that down to the\npresent day the souls of all the dead regularly repair in order to await\nreincarnation. The Arunta call the places _oknanikilla_, and we may call\nthem local totem centres, because they are the centres where the spirits\nof the departed assemble according to their totems.[118]\n\n[Sidenote: Every living person has also his or her sacred stick or stone\n(_churinga_), with which his or her spirit is closely bound up.]\n\nBut it is not merely the remote forefathers of the Central Australian\nsavages who are said to have been possessed of these sacred sticks or\nstones: every man and woman who is born into the world has one of them,\nwith which his or her spirit is believed to be closely bound up. This is\nintelligible when we remember that every living person is believed to be\nsimply the reincarnation of an ancestor; for that being so he naturally\ncomes to life with all the attributes which belonged to him in his\nprevious state of existence on earth. The notion of the natives is that\nwhen a spirit child enters into a woman to be born, he immediately drops\nhis sacred stick or stone on the spot, which is necessarily one of what\nwe have called the local totem centres, since in the opinion of the\nnatives it is only at or near them that a woman can conceive a child.\nHence when her child is born, the woman tells her husband the place\nwhere she fancies that the infant entered into her, and he goes with\nsome old men to find the precious object, the stick or stone dropped by\nthe spirit of the infant when it entered into the mother. If it cannot\nbe found, the men cut a wooden one from the nearest hard-wood tree, and\nthis becomes the sacred stick or _churinga_ of the newborn child. The\nexact spot, whether a tree or a stone or what not, in which the child's\nspirit is supposed to have tarried in the interval between its\nincarnations, is called its _nanja_ tree or stone or what not. A\ndefinite relation is supposed to exist between each individual and his\n_nanja_ tree or stone. The tree or stone and any animal or bird that\nlights upon it is sacred to him and may not be molested. A native has\nbeen known earnestly to intercede with a white man to spare a tree\nbecause it was his _nanja_ or birth-tree, and he feared that evil would\nbefall him if it were cut down.[119]\n\n[Sidenote: Sanctity of the _churinga_.]\n\nThus in these Central Australian tribes every man, woman, and child has\nhis or her sacred birth-stone or stick. But though every woman, like\nevery man, has her sacred birth-stone or stick, she is never allowed to\nsee it under pain of death or of being blinded with a fire-stick. Indeed\nnone but old women are aware even of the existence of such things.\nUninitiated men are likewise forbidden under the same severe penalties\never to look upon these most sacred objects.[120] The sanctity ascribed\nto the sticks and stones is intelligible when we remember that the\nspirits of all the people both living and dead are believed to be\nintimately associated with them. Each of them, we are told, is supposed\nto be so closely bound up with a person's spirit that it may be regarded\nas his or her representative, and those of dead people are believed to\nbe endowed with the attributes of their former owners and actually to\nimpart them to any one who happens to carry them about with him. Hence\nthese apparently insignificant sticks and stones are, in the opinion of\nthe natives, most potent instruments for conveying to the living the\nvirtues and powers of the dead. For example, in a fight the possession\nof one of these holy sticks or stones is thought to endow the possessor\nwith courage and accuracy of aim and also to deprive his adversary of\nthese qualities. So firmly is this belief held, that if two men were\nfighting and one of them knew that the other carried a sacred\nbirth-stone or stick while he himself did not, he would certainly lose\nheart and be beaten. Again, when a man is sick, he will sometimes have\none of these sacred stones brought to him and will scrape a little dust\noff it, mix the dust with water, and drink it. This is supposed to\nstrengthen him. Clearly he imagines that with the scrapings of the stone\nhe absorbs the strength and other qualities of the person to whom the\nstone belonged.[121]\n\n[Sidenote: Sacred store-houses (_ertnatulunga_) of the _churinga_.]\n\nAll the birth-stones or sticks (_churinga_) belonging to any particular\ntotemic group are kept together, hidden away from the eyes of women and\nuninitiated men, in a sacred store-house or _ertnatulunga_, as the\nArunta and Unmatjera call it. This store-house is always situated in one\nof the local totem centres or _oknanikilla_, which, as we have seen,\nvary in size from a few yards to many square miles. In itself the sacred\ntreasure-house is usually a small cave or crevice in some lonely spot\namong the rugged hills. The entrance is carefully blocked up with stones\narranged so artfully as to simulate nature and to awake no suspicion in\nthe mind of passing strangers that behind these tumbled blocks lie\nconcealed the most prized possessions of the tribe. The immediate\nneighbourhood of any one of these sacred store-houses is a kind of haven\nof refuge for wild animals, for once they have run thither, they are\nsafe; no hunter would spear a kangaroo or opossum which cowered on the\nground at one of these hallowed spots. The very plants which grow there\nare sacred and may not be plucked or broken or interfered with in any\nway. Similarly, an enemy who succeeds in taking refuge there, is safe\nfrom his pursuer, so long as he keeps within the sacred boundaries: even\nthe avenger of blood, pursuing the murderer hot-foot, would not dare to\nlift up his hand against him on the holy ground. Thus, these places are\nsanctuaries in the strict sense of the word; they are probably the most\nprimitive examples of their class and contain the germ out of which\ncities of refuge for manslayers and others might be developed. It is\ninstructive, therefore, to observe that these rudimentary sanctuaries in\nthe heart of the Australian wilderness derive their sacredness mainly,\nit would seem, from their association with the spirits of the dead,\nwhose repose must not be disturbed by tumult, violence, and bloodshed.\nEven when the sacred birth-stones and sticks have been removed from the\nstore-house in the secret recesses of the hills and have been brought\ninto the camp for the performance of certain solemn ceremonies, no\nfighting may take place, no weapons may be brandished in their\nneighbourhood: if men will quarrel and fight, they must take their\nweapons and go elsewhere to do it.[122] And when the men go to one of\nthe sacred store-houses to inspect the treasures which it contains, they\nmust each of them put his open hand solemnly over the mouth of the rocky\ncrevice and then retire, in order to give the spirits due notice of the\napproach of strangers; for if they were disturbed suddenly, they would\nbe angry.[123]\n\n[Sidenote: Exhibition of the _churinga_ to young men.]\n\nIt is only after a young man has passed through the severe ceremonies of\ninitiation, which include most painful bodily mutilations, that he is\ndeemed worthy to be introduced to the tribal arcana, the sacred sticks\nand stones, which repose in their hallowed cave among the mountain\nsolitudes. Even when he has passed through all the ordeals, many years\nmay elapse before he is admitted to a knowledge of these mysteries, if\nhe shews himself to be of a light and frivolous disposition. When at\nlast by the gravity of his demeanour he is judged to have proved himself\nindeed a man, a day is fixed for revealing to him the great secret. Then\nthe headman of his local group, together with other grave and reverend\nseniors, conducts him to the mouth of the cave: the stones are rolled\naway from the entrance: the spirits within are duly warned of the\napproach of visitors; and then the sacred sticks and stones, tied up in\nbundles, are brought forth. The bundles are undone, the sticks and\nstones are taken out, one by one, reverently scrutinised, and exhibited\nto the novice, while the old men explain to him the meaning of the\npatterns incised on each and reveal to him the persons, alive or dead,\nto whom they belong. All the time the other men keep chanting in a low\nvoice the traditions of their remote ancestors in the far-off dream\ntimes. At the close the novice is told the secret and sacred name which\nhe is thenceforth to bear, and is warned never to allow it to pass his\nlips in the hearing of anybody except members of his own totemic\ngroup.[124] Sometimes this secret name is that of an ancestor of whom\nthe man or woman is supposed to be a reincarnation: for women as well as\nmen have their secret and sacred names.[125]\n\n[Sidenote: Number of _churinga_ in a store-house. Significance of the\n_churinga_. Use of the _churinga_ in magic.]\n\nThe number of sacred birth-stones and sticks kept in any one store-house\nnaturally varies from group to group; but whatever their number, whether\nmore or less, in any one store-house they all normally belong to the\nsame totem, though a few belonging to other totems may be borrowed and\ndeposited for a time with them. For example, a sacred store-house of the\nhoney-ant totem was found to contain sixty-eight birth-sticks of that\ntotem with a few of the lizard totem and two of the wild-cat totem.[126]\nAny store-house will usually contain both sticks and stones, but as a\nrule perhaps the sticks predominate in number.[127] Time after time\nthese tribal repositories are visited by the men and their contents\ntaken out and examined. On each examination the sacred sticks and stones\nare carefully rubbed over with dry and powdered red ochre or charcoal,\nthe sticks being rubbed with red ochre only, but the stones either with\nred ochre or charcoal.[128] Further, it is customary on these occasions\nto press the sacred objects against the stomachs and thighs of all the\nmen present; this is supposed to untie their bowels, which are thought\nto be tightened and knotted by the emotion which the men feel at the\nsight of these venerated sticks and stones. Indeed, the emotion is\nsometimes very real: men have been seen to weep on beholding these\nmystic objects for the first time after a considerable interval.[129]\nWhenever the sacred store-house is visited and its contents examined,\nthe old men explain to the younger men the marks incised on the sticks\nand stones, and recite the traditions associated with the dead men to\nwhom they belonged;[130] so that these rude objects of wood and stone,\nwith the lines and dots scratched on them, serve the savages as\nmemorials of the past; they are in fact rudimentary archives as well as,\nwe may almost say, rudimentary idols; for a stone or stick which\nrepresents a revered ancestor and is supposed to be endowed with some\nportion of his spirit, is not far from being an idol. No wonder,\ntherefore, that they are guarded and treasured by a tribe as its most\nprecious possession. When a group of natives have been robbed of them by\nthoughtless white men and have found the sacred store-house empty, they\nhave tried to kill the traitor who betrayed the hallowed spot to the\nstrangers, and have remained in camp for a fortnight weeping and wailing\nfor the loss and plastering themselves with pipeclay, which is their\ntoken of mourning for the dead.[131] Yet, as a great mark of friendship,\nthey will sometimes lend these sacred sticks and stones to a\nneighbouring group; for believing that the sticks and stones are\nassociated with the spiritual parts of their former and present owners,\nthey naturally wish to have as many of them as possible and regard their\npossession as a treasure of great price, a sort of reservoir of\nspiritual force,[132] which can be turned to account not only in battle\nby worsting the enemy, but in various other ways, such as by magically\nincreasing the food supply. For instance, when a man of the grass-seed\ntotem wishes to increase the supply of grass-seed in order that it may\nbe eaten by people of other totems, he goes to the sacred store-house,\nclears the ground all around it, takes out a few of the holy sticks and\nstones, smears them with red ochre and decorates them with birds' down,\nchanting a spell all the time. Then he rubs them together so that the\ndown flies off in all directions; this is supposed to carry with it the\nmagical virtue of the sticks or stones and so to fertilise the\ngrass-seed.[133]\n\n[Sidenote: Elements of a worship of the dead. Marvellous powers\nattributed by the Central Australians to their remote ancestors of the\n_alcheringa_ or dream time.]\n\nOn the whole, when we survey these practices and beliefs of the Central\nAustralian aborigines, we may perhaps conclude that, if they do not\namount to a worship of the dead, they at least contain the elements out\nof which such a worship might easily be developed. At first sight, no\ndoubt, their faith in the transmigration of souls seems and perhaps\nreally is a serious impediment to a worship of the dead in the strict\nsense of the word. For if they themselves are the dead come to life\nagain, it is difficult to see how they can worship the spirits of the\ndead without also worshipping each other, since they are all by\nhypothesis simply these worshipful spirits reincarnated. But though in\ntheory every living man and woman is merely an ancestor or ancestress\nborn again and therefore should be his or her equal, in practice they\nappear to admit that their forefathers of the remote _alcheringa_ or\ndream time were endowed with many marvellous powers which their modern\nreincarnations cannot lay claim to, and that accordingly these ancestral\nspirits were more to be reverenced, were in fact more worshipful, than\ntheir living representatives. On this subject Messrs. Spencer and Gillen\nobserve: \"The Central Australian native is firmly convinced, as will be\nseen from the accounts relating to their _alcheringa_ ancestors, that\nthe latter were endowed with powers such as no living man now possesses.\nThey could travel underground or mount into the sky, and could make\ncreeks and water-courses, mountain-ranges, sand-hills, and plains. In\nvery many cases the actual names of these natives are preserved in their\ntraditions, but, so far as we have been able to discover, there is no\ninstance of any one of them being regarded in the light of a 'deity.'\nAmongst the Central Australian natives there is never any idea of\nappealing for assistance to any one of these Alcheringa ancestors in any\nway, nor is there any attempt made in the direction of propitiation,\nwith one single exception in the case of the mythic creature called\nWollunqua, amongst the Warramunga tribe, who, it may be remarked, is\nmost distinctly regarded as a snake and not as a human being.\"[134] Thus\nfar Messrs. Spencer and Gillen. From their testimony it appears that\nwith a single possible exception, to which I will return immediately,\nthe Central Australian aborigines are not known to worship any of their\ndead ancestors; they indeed believe their remote forefathers of the\n_alcheringa_ age to have been endowed with marvellous powers which they\nthemselves do not possess; but they do not regard these ancestral\nspirits as deities, nor do they pray and sacrifice to them for help and\nprotection. The single possible exception to this general rule known to\nMessrs. Spencer and Gillen is the case of the mythical water-snake\ncalled Wollunqua, who is in a sense revered and propitiated by the\nWarramunga tribe. The case is interesting and instructive as indicative\nof an advance from magic towards religion in the strict sense of the\nword. Accordingly I propose to consider it somewhat fully.\n\n[Sidenote: The Wollunqua, a mythical water-snake, one of the Warramunga\ntotems.]\n\nThe Wollunqua is one of the many totems of the Warramunga tribe. It is\nto be borne in mind that, though every Australian tribe has many totems\nwhich are most commonly animals or plants and more rarely other natural\nobjects, all the totems are not respected by all the members of the\ntribe; each totem is respected only by a particular group of men and\nwomen in the tribe, who believe themselves to be descended from the same\ntotemic ancestor. Thus the whole tribe is broken up into many groups or\nbodies of men and women, each group knit together by a belief in a\ncommon descent from the totem, by a common respect for the totemic\nspecies, whether it be a species of animals or plants, or what not, and\nfinally by the possession of a common name derived from the totem. Thus,\nfor example, we have a group of men and women who believe themselves\ndescended from an ancestor who had the bandicoot for his totem; they all\nrespect bandicoots; and they are all called bandicoot people. Similarly\nwith all the other totemic groups within the tribe. It is convenient to\nhave a name for these totemic groups or tribal subdivisions, and\naccordingly we may call them clans, provided we remember that a totemic\nclan in this sense is not an independent political community such as the\nScottish Highland clans used to be; it is merely a subdivision of the\ntribe, and the members of it do not usually keep to themselves but live\nmore or less interfused with members of all the other totemic clans\nwhich together compose the tribe. Now amongst the Warramunga the\nWollunqua or mythical water-snake is the totem of such a clan or tribal\nsubdivision, the members of which believe themselves to be descended\nfrom the creature and call themselves by its name. So far, therefore,\nthe Wollunqua is merely a totem of the ordinary sort, an object of\nrespect for a particular section of the tribe. Like other totemic\nancestors the Wollunqua is supposed to have wandered about the country\nleaving supplies of spirit individuals at various points, individuals\nwho are constantly undergoing reincarnation. But on the other hand the\nWollunqua differs from almost all other Australian totems in this, that\nwhereas they are real objects, such as animals, plants, water, wind, the\nsun and moon, and so on, the Wollunqua is a purely mythical creature,\nwhich exists only in the imagination of the natives; for they believe it\nto be a water-snake so huge that if it were to stand up on its tail, its\nhead would reach far up into the sky. It now lives in a large pool\ncalled Thapauerlu, hidden away in a lonely valley of the Murchison\nRange; but the Warramunga fear that it may at any moment sally out and\ndo some damage. They say that it actually killed a number of them on one\nof its excursions, though happily they at last succeeded in beating it\noff. So afraid are they of the creature, that in speaking of it amongst\nthemselves they will not use its proper name of Wollunqua but call it\ninstead _urkulu nappaurinnia_, because, as they told Messrs. Spencer and\nGillen, if they were to name it too often by its real name they would\nlose control over the beast and it would rush forth and devour\nthem.[135] Thus the natives do not distinguish the Wollunqua from the\nrest of their actually existing totems, as we do: they have never beheld\nhim with their bodily eyes, yet to them he is just as real as the\nkangaroos which they see hopping along the sands, as the flies which\nbuzz about their heads in the sunshine, or as the cockatoos which flap\nscreaming past in the thickets. How real this belief in the mythical\nsnake is with these savages, was brought vividly home to Messrs. Spencer\nand Gillen when they visited, in company with some natives, the deep and\nlonely pool among the rocky hills in which the awful being is supposed\nto reside. Before they approached the spot, the natives had been talking\nand laughing freely, but when they drew near the water their voices were\nhushed and their demeanour became solemn. When all stood silent on the\nbrink of the deep still pool, enclosed by a sandy margin on one side and\nby a line of red rocks on the other, two old men, the leaders of the\ntotemic group of the Wollunqua, went down to the edge of the water and,\nwith bowed heads, addressed the Wollunqua in whispers, asking him to\nremain quiet and do them no harm, for they were mates of his, and had\nbrought two great white men to see where he lived and to tell them all\nabout him. \"We could plainly see,\" add Messrs. Spencer and Gillen, \"that\nit was all very real to them, and that they implicitly believed that the\nWollunqua was indeed alive beneath the water, watching them, though they\ncould not see him.\"[136]\n\n[Sidenote: Religious character of the belief in the Wollunqua.]\n\nI need hardly point out what a near approach all this is to religion in\nthe proper sense of the word. Here we have a firm belief in a purely\nimaginary being who is necessarily visible to the eye of faith alone,\nsince I think we may safely assume that a water-snake, supposed to be\nmany miles long and capable of reaching up to the sky, has no real\nexistence either on the earth or in the waters under the earth. Yet to\nthese savages this invisible being is just as real as the actually\nexisting animals and men whom they perceive with their bodily senses;\nthey not only pray to him but they propitiate him with a solemn ritual;\nand no doubt they would spurn with scorn the feeble attempts of shallow\nsceptics to question the reality of his existence or the literal truth\nof the myths they tell about him. Certainly these savages are far on the\nroad to religion, if they have not already passed the Rubicon which\ndivides it from the common workaday world. If an unhesitating faith in\nthe unseen is part of religion, the Warramunga people of the Wollunqua\ntotem are unquestionably religious.\n\n[Footnote 108: On the zoological peculiarities of Australia regarded as\neffects of its geographical isolation, see Alfred Newton, _Dictionary of\nBirds_ (London, 1893-96), pp. 317-319. He observes (p. 318) that \"the\nisolation of Australia is probably the next oldest in the world to that\nof New Zealand, having possibly existed since the time when no mammals\nhigher than marsupials had appeared on the face of the earth.\"]\n\n[Footnote 109: For details see _Totemism and Exogamy_, i. 314 _sqq._]\n\n[Footnote 110: Baldwin Spencer and F. J. Gillen, _Northern Tribes of\nCentral Australia_ (London, 1904), p. 491.]\n\n[Footnote 111: Spencer and Gillen, _Northern Tribes of Central\nAustralia_, p. xi.]\n\n[Footnote 112: Spencer and Gillen, _op. cit._ p. 545.]\n\n[Footnote 113: Spencer and Gillen, _op. cit._ p. 546.]\n\n[Footnote 114: Baldwin Spencer and F. J. Gillen, _Native Tribes of\nCentral Australia_ (London, 1899), pp. 119-127, 335-338, 552; _id.,\nNorthern Tribes of Central Australia_, pp. 145-153, 162, 271, 330 _sq._,\n448-451, 512-515. Compare _Totemism and Exogamy_, i. 188 _sqq._]\n\n[Footnote 115: Spencer and Gillen, _Northern Tribes of Central\nAustralia_, p. 147.]\n\n[Footnote 116: See _Totemism and Exogamy_, i. 155 _sqq._, iv. 40 _sqq._]\n\n[Footnote 117: Spencer and Gillen, _Native Tribes of Central Australia_,\npp. 123, 126.]\n\n[Footnote 118: Spencer and Gillen, _Native Tribes of Central Australia_,\npp. 119-127, 128 _sqq._, 513; _id., Northern Tribes of Central\nAustralia_, pp. 145 _sqq._, 257 _sqq._]\n\n[Footnote 119: Spencer and Gillen, _Native Tribes of Central Australia_,\npp. 132-135; _id._, _Northern Tribes of Central Australia_, pp. 258, 268\n_sqq._]\n\n[Footnote 120: Spencer and Gillen, _Native Tribes of Central Australia_,\npp. 128, 134.]\n\n[Footnote 121: Spencer and Gillen, _Native Tribes of Central Australia_,\npp. 134 _sq._]\n\n[Footnote 122: Spencer and Gillen, _Native Tribes of Central Australia_,\npp. 133, 135; _id._, _Northern Tribes of Central Australia_, p. 269.]\n\n[Footnote 123: Spencer and Gillen, _Northern Tribes of Central\nAustralia_, p. 267.]\n\n[Footnote 124: Spencer and Gillen, _Native Tribes of Central Australia_,\npp. 139 _sq._]\n\n[Footnote 125: Spencer and Gillen, _Northern Tribes of Central\nAustralia_, p. 273.]\n\n[Footnote 126: Spencer and Gillen, _Native Tribes of Central Australia_,\np. 141.]\n\n[Footnote 127: Spencer and Gillen, _op. cit._ p. 140]\n\n[Footnote 128: Spencer and Gillen, _Native Tribes_, pp. 144, 145.]\n\n[Footnote 129: Spencer and Gillen, _Native Tribes_, pp. 164, _sq._;\n_id._, _Northern Tribes_, pp. 261, 264.]\n\n[Footnote 130: Spencer and Gillen, _Native Tribes_, p. 145.]\n\n[Footnote 131: Spencer and Gillen, _Native Tribes_, p. 136.]\n\n[Footnote 132: Spencer and Gillen, _Native Tribes_, pp. 158 _sq._]\n\n[Footnote 133: Spencer and Gillen, _Northern Tribes_, pp. 271 _sq._]\n\n[Footnote 134: Spencer and Gillen, _Northern Tribes of Central\nAustralia_, pp. 490 _sq._]\n\n[Footnote 135: Spencer and Gillen, _Northern Tribes of Central\nAustralia_, pp. 226 _sq._ Another mythical being in which the Warramunga\nbelieve is _the pau-wa_, a fabulous animal, half human and somewhat\nresembling a dog. See Spencer and Gillen, _op. cit._ pp. 195, 197, 201,\n210 _sq._ But the creature seems not to be a totem, for it is not\nincluded in the list of totems given by Messrs. Spencer and Gillen (_op.\ncit._ pp. 768-773).]\n\n[Footnote 136: Spencer and Gillen, _Northern Tribes of Central\nAustralia_, pp. 252 _sq._]\n\n\n\n\nLECTURE V\n\nTHE BELIEF IN IMMORTALITY AMONG THE ABORIGINES\nOF CENTRAL AUSTRALIA (_continued_)\n\n\n[Sidenote: Beliefs of the Central Australian aborigines concerning the\nreincarnation of the dead. The mythical water-snake Wollunqua.]\n\nIn the last lecture we began our survey of the belief in immortality and\nthe practices to which it has given rise among the aboriginal tribes of\nCentral Australia. I shewed that these primitive savages hold a very\nremarkable theory of birth and death. They believe that the souls of the\ndead do not perish but are reborn in human form after a longer or\nshorter interval. During that interval the spirits of the departed are\nsupposed to congregate in certain parts of the country, generally\ndistinguished by some conspicuous natural feature, which accordingly the\nnatives account sacred, believing them to be haunted by the souls of the\ndead. From time to time one of these disembodied spirits enters into a\npassing woman and is born as an infant into the world. Thus according to\nthe Central Australian theory every living person without exception is\nthe reincarnation of a dead man, woman, or child. At first sight the\ntheory seems to exclude the possibility of any worship of the dead,\nsince it appears to put the living on a footing of perfect equality with\nthe dead by identifying the one with the other. But I pointed out that\nas a matter of fact these savages do admit, whether logically or not,\nthe superiority of their remote ancestors to themselves: they\nacknowledge that these old forefathers of theirs did possess many\nmarvellous powers to which they themselves can lay no claim. In this\nacknowledgment, accordingly, we may detect an opening or possibility for\nthe development of a real worship of ancestors. Indeed, as I said at the\nclose of last lecture, something closely approaching to ancestor worship\nhas actually grown up in regard to the mythical ancestor of the\nWollunqua clan in the Warramunga tribe. The Wollunqua is a purely\nfabulous water-snake, of gigantic dimensions, which is supposed to haunt\nthe waters of a certain lonely pool called Thapauerlu, in the Murchison\nRange of mountains. Unlike the ancestors of the other totemic clans,\nthis mythical serpent is never reborn in human form; he always lives in\nhis solitary pool among the barren hills; but the natives think that he\nhas it in his power to come forth and do them an injury, and accordingly\nthey pray to him to remain quiet and not to harm them. Indeed so afraid\nof him are they that speaking of the creature among themselves they\navoid using his proper name of Wollunqua and call him by a different\nname, lest hearing himself called by his true name he should rush forth\nand devour them. More than that they even endeavour to propitiate him by\nthe performance of certain rites, which, however childish and absurd\nthey may seem to us, are very solemn affairs for these simple folk. The\nrites were witnessed by Messrs. Spencer and Gillen, whose description I\nwill summarise. It offers an interesting and instructive example of a\nritual observed by primitive savages, who are clearly standing on, if\nthey have not already crossed, the threshold of religion.\n\n[Sidenote: Wanderings of the Wollunqua. Dramatic ceremonies in honour of\nthe Wollunqua.]\n\nLike all other totemic ancestors the Wollunqua is said to have arisen at\na particular spot, to have wandered about the country, and finally to\nhave gone down into the ground. Starting from the deep rocky pool in the\nMurchison Range he travelled at first underground, coming up, however,\nat various points where he performed ceremonies and left many spirit\nchildren, who issued from his body and remained behind, forming local\ntotemic centres when he had passed on. It is these spirit children who\nhave formed the Wollunqua clan ever since, undergoing an endless series\nof reincarnations. Now the ceremonies which the clan perform in honour\nof their mythical ancestor the Wollunqua all refer to his wanderings\nabout the country. Thus there is a particular water-hole called\nPitingari where the great old water-snake is said to have emerged from\nthe ground and looked about him. Here, accordingly, two men performed a\nceremony. Each of them was decorated with a broad band of red down,\nwhich curved round both the front and the back of the performer and\nstood sharply out from the mass of white down with which all the rest of\nthe upper part of his body was covered. These broad red bands\nrepresented the Wollunqua. Each man also wore a tall, conical helmet\nadorned with a curved band of red down, which, no doubt, likewise\nsymbolised the mythical serpent. When the two actors in the little drama\nhad been attired in this quaint costume of red and white down, they\nretired behind a bush, which served for the side scenes of a theatre.\nThen, when the orchestra, composed of adult men, struck up the music on\nthe ceremonial ground by chanting and beating boomerangs and sticks\ntogether, the performers ran in, stopping every now and then to shake\nthemselves in imitation of the snake. Finally, they sat down close\ntogether with their heads bowed down on a few green branches of\ngum-trees. A man then stepped up to them, knocked off their\nhead-dresses, and the simple ceremony came to an end.[137]\n\n[Sidenote: Ceremony in honour of the Wollunqua.]\n\nThe next ceremony was performed on the following day at another place\ncalled Antipataringa, where the mythical snake is said to have halted in\nhis wanderings. The same two men acted as before, but this time one of\nthem carried on his head a curious curved bundle shaped like an enormous\nboomerang. It was made of grass-stalks bound together with human\nhair-string and decorated with white down. This sacred object\nrepresented the Wollunqua himself.[138] From this spot the snake was\nbelieved to have travelled on to another place called Tjunguniari, where\nhe popped up his head among the sand-hills, the greater part of his body\nremaining underground. Indeed, of such an enormous length was the\nserpent, that though his head had now travelled very many miles his tail\nstill remained at the starting-point and had not yet begun to take part\nin the procession. Here accordingly the third ceremony, perhaps we may\nsay the third act in the drama, was performed on the third day. In it\none of the actors personated the snake himself, while the other stood\nfor a sand-hill.[139]\n\n[Sidenote: Further ceremony in honour of the Wollunqua: the white mound\nwith the red wavy band to represent the mythical snake.]\n\nAfter an interval of three days a fourth ceremony was performed of an\nentirely different kind. A keel-shaped mound was made of wet sand, about\nfifteen feet long by two feet high. The smooth surface of the mound was\ncovered with a mass of little dots of white down, except for a long wavy\nband of red down which ran all along both sides of the mound. This wavy\nred band represented the Wollunqua, his head being indicated by a small\nround swelling at one end and his tail by a short prolongation at the\nother. The mound itself represented a sand-hill beside which the snake\nis said to have stood up and looked about. The preparation of this\nelaborate emblem of the Wollunqua occupied the greater part of the day,\nand it was late in the afternoon before it was completed. When darkness\nfell, fires were lighted on the ceremonial ground, and as the night grew\nlate more fires were kindled, and all of the men sat round the mound\nsinging songs which referred to the mythical water-snake. This went on\nfor hours. At last, about three o'clock in the morning, a ring of fires\nwas lit all round the ceremonial ground, in the light of which the white\ntrunks of the gum-trees and the surrounding scrub stood out weird and\nghastly against the blackness of darkness beyond. Amid the wildest\nexcitement the men of the Wollunqua totem now ranged themselves in\nsingle file on their knees beside the mound which bore the red image of\ntheir great mythical forefather, and with their hands on their thighs\nsurged round and round it, every man bending in unison first to one side\nand then to the other, each successive movement being accompanied by a\nloud and simultaneous shout, or rather yell, while the other men, who\nwere not of the Wollunqua totem, stood by, clanging their boomerangs\nexcitedly, and one old man, who acted as a sort of choregus, walked\nbackwards at the end of the kneeling procession of Wollunqua men,\nswaying his body about and lifting high his knees at every step. In this\nway, with shouts and clangour, the men of the totem surged twice round\nthe mound on their knees. After that, as the fires died down, the men\nrose from their knees, and for another hour every one sat round the\nmound singing incessantly. The last act in the drama was played at four\no'clock in the morning at the moment when the first faint streaks of\ndawn glimmered in the east. At sight of them every man jumped to his\nfeet, the smouldering fires were rekindled, and in their blaze the long\nwhite mound stood out in strong relief. The men of the totem, armed with\nspears, boomerangs, and clubs, ranged themselves round it, and\nencouraged by the men of the other totems attacked it fiercely with\ntheir weapons, until in a few minutes they had hacked it to pieces, and\nnothing was left of it but a rough heap of sandy earth. The fires again\ndied down and for a short time silence reigned. Then, just as the sun\nrose above the eastern horizon, the painful ceremony of subincision was\nperformed on three youths, who had recently passed through the earlier\nstages of initiation.[140]\n\n[Sidenote: The rite aims both at pleasing and at coercing the mythical\nsnake.]\n\nThis remarkable rite is supposed, we are informed, \"in some way to be\nassociated with the idea of persuading, or almost forcing, the Wollunqua\nto remain quietly in his home under the water-hole at Thapauerlu, and to\ndo no harm to any of the natives. They say that when he sees the mound\nwith his representation drawn upon it he is gratified, and wriggles\nabout underneath with pleasure. The savage attack upon the mound is\nassociated with the idea of driving him down, and, taken altogether, the\nceremony indicates their belief that, at one and the same time, they can\nboth please and coerce the mythic beast. It is necessary to do things to\nplease him, or else he might grow sulky and come out and do them harm,\nbut at the same time they occasionally use force to make him do what\nthey want.\"[141] In fact the ritual of the mound with its red image of\nthe snake combines the principles of religion and magic. So far as the\nrite is intended to please and propitiate the mythical beast, it is\nreligious; so far as it is intended to constrain him, it is magical. The\ntwo principles are contradictory and the attempt to combine them is\nillogical; but the savage is heedless, or rather totally unaware, of the\ncontradiction and illogicality: all that concerns him is to accomplish\nhis ends: he has neither the wish nor the ability to analyse his\nmotives. In this respect he is in substantial agreement with the vast\nmajority of mankind. How many of us scrutinise the reasons of our\nconduct with the view of detecting and eliminating any latent\ninconsistencies in them? And how many, or rather how few of us, on such\na scrutiny would be so fortunate as to discover that there were no such\ninconsistencies to detect? The logical pedant who imagines that men\ncannot possibly act on inconsistent and even contradictory motives only\nbetrays his ignorance of life. It is not therefore for us to cast stones\nat the Warramunga men of the Wollunqua totem for attempting to\npropitiate and constrain their mythical serpent at the same time. Such\ncontradictions meet us again and again in the history of religion: it is\ninteresting but by no means surprising to find them in one of its\nrudimentary stages.\n\n[Sidenote: Thunder the voice of the Wollunqua.]\n\nOn the evening of the day which succeeded the construction of the\nemblematic mound the old men who had made the emblem said they had heard\nthe Wollunqua talking, and that he was pleased with what had been done\nand was sending them rain. What they took for the voice of the Wollunqua\nwas thunder rumbling in the distance. No rain fell, but a few days later\nthunder was again heard rolling afar off and a heavy bank of clouds lay\nlow on the western horizon. The old men now said that the Wollunqua was\ngrowling because the remains of the mound had been left uncovered; so\nthey hastily cut down branches and covered up the ruins. After that the\nWollunqua ceased to growl: there was no more thunder.[142]\n\n[Sidenote: Ground drawings of the Wollunqua.]\n\nOn the four following days ceremonies of an entirely different kind from\nall the preceding were performed in honour of the Wollunqua. A space of\nsandy ground was smoothed down, sprinkled with water, and rubbed so as\nto form a compact surface. The smooth surface was then overlaid with a\ncoat of red or yellow ochre, and on this coloured background a number of\ndesigns were traced, one after the other, by a series of white dots,\nwhich together made up a pattern of curved lines and concentric circles.\nThese patterns represented the Wollunqua and some of his traditionary\nadventures. The snake himself was portrayed by a broad wavy band, but\nall the other designs were purely conventional; for example, trees,\nant-hills, and wells were alike indicated by circles. Altogether there\nwere eight such drawings on the earth, some of them very elaborate and\nentailing, each of them, not less than six or seven hours' labour: one\nof them was ten feet long. Each drawing was rubbed out before the next\none was drawn. Moreover, the drawings were accompanied by little dramas\nacted by decorated men. In one of these dramas no fewer than eight\nactors took part, some of whom wore head-dresses adorned with a long\nwavy band to represent the Wollunqua. The last drawing of all was\nsupposed to portray the mythical snake as he plunged into the earth and\nreturned to his home in the rocky pool called Thapauerlu among the\nMurchison Ranges.[143]\n\n[Sidenote: Religious importance of the Wollunqua.]\n\nI have dwelt at some length on these ceremonies of the Wollunqua totem,\nbecause they furnish a remarkable and perhaps unique instance in\nAustralia of a totemic ancestor in the act of developing into something\nlike a god. In the Warramunga tribe there are other snake totems besides\nthe Wollunqua; for example, there is the black snake totem and the deaf\nadder totem. But this purely mythical water-snake, the Wollunqua, is the\nmost important of them all and is regarded as the great father of all\nthe snakes. \"It is not easy,\" say Messrs. Spencer and Gillen, \"to\nexpress in words what is in reality rather a vague feeling amongst the\nnatives, but after carefully watching the different series of ceremonies\nwe were impressed with the feeling that the Wollunqua represented to the\nnative mind the idea of a dominant totem.\"[144] Thus he is at once a\nfabulous animal and the mythical ancestor of a human clan, but his\nanimal nature apparently predominates over his semi-human nature, as\nshewn by the drawings and effigies of him, all of which are in serpent\nform. The prayers offered to him at the pool which he is supposed to\nhaunt, and the attempt to please him by drawing his likeness can only be\nregarded as propitiatory rites and therefore as rudimentary forms of\nworship. And the idea that thunder is his voice, and that the rain is a\ngift sent by him in return for the homage paid to him by the people,\nappears to prove that in course of time, if left to himself, he might\neasily have been elevated to the sky and have ranked as a celestial\ndeity, who dwells aloft and sends down or withholds the refreshing\nshowers at his good pleasure. Thus the Wollunqua, a rude creation of the\nsavage Australian imagination, possesses a high interest for the\nhistorian of religion, since he combines elements of ancestor worship\nand totem worship with a germ of heaven worship; while on the purely\nmaterial side his representation, both in plastic form by a curved\nbundle of grass-stalks and in graphic form by broad wavy bands of red\ndown, may be said in a sense to stand at the starting-point of that long\ndevelopment of religious art, which in so many countries and so many\nages has attempted to represent to the bodily eye the mysteries of the\nunseen and invisible, and which, whatever we may think of the success or\nfailure of that attempt, has given to the world some of the noblest\nworks of sculpture and painting.\n\n[Sidenote: Possible religious evolution of totemism.]\n\nI have already pointed out the difficulty of seeing how a belief in the\nreincarnation of the dead, such as prevails universally among the\naborigines of Central Australia, could ever be reconciled with or\ndevelop into a worship of the dead; for by identifying the living with\nthe dead, the theory of reincarnation seems to abolish that distinction\nbetween the worshipper and the worshipped which is essential to the\nexistence of worship. But, as I also indicated, what seems a loophole or\nmode of escape from the dilemma may be furnished by the belief of these\nsavages, that though they themselves are nothing but their ancestors\ncome to life again, nevertheless in their earliest incarnations of the\n_alcheringa_ or dream times their ancestors possessed miraculous powers\nwhich they have admittedly lost in their later reincarnations; for this\nsuggests an incipient discrimination or line of cleavage between the\nliving and the dead; it hints that perhaps after all the first\nancestors, with their marvellous endowments, may have been entirely\ndifferent persons from their feebler descendants, and if this vague hint\ncould only grow into a firm conviction of the essential difference\nbetween the two, then the course would be clear for the development of\nancestor worship: the dead forefathers, viewed as beings perfectly\ndistinct from and far superior to the living, might easily come to\nreceive from the latter the homage of prayer and sacrifice, might be\nbesought by their descendants to protect them in danger and to succour\nthem in all the manifold ills of life, or at least to abstain from\ninjuring them. Now, this important step in religious evolution appears\nto have been actually taken by the Wollunqua, the mythical water-snake,\nwho is the totem of one of the Warramunga clans. Unlike all the other\ntotems he is supposed to exist only in his invisible and animal form and\nnever to be reincarnated in a man.[145] Hence, withdrawn as he is from\nthe real world of sense, the imagination is free to play about him and\nto invest him more and more with those supernatural attributes which men\nascribe to their deities. And what has actually happened to this\nparticular totemic ancestor might under favourable circumstances happen\nto many others. Each of them might be gradually detached from the line\nof his descendants, might cease to be reincarnated in them, and might\ngradually attain to the lonely pre-eminence of godhead. Thus a system of\npure totemism, such as prevails among the aborigines of Central\nAustralia, might develop through a phase of ancestor worship into a\npantheon of the ordinary type.\n\n[Sidenote: Conspicuous features of the landscape associated with\nancestral spirits.]\n\nAlthough none of the other totemic ancestors of the Central Australian\naborigines appears to have advanced so far on the road to religion as\nthe Wollunqua, yet they all contain in germ the elements out of which a\nreligion might have been developed. It is difficult for us civilised men\nto conceive the extent to which the thoughts and lives of these savages\nare dominated by the memories and traditions of the dead. Every\nconspicuous feature in the landscape is not only associated with the\nlegendary doings of some ancestors but is commonly said to have arisen\nas a direct result of their actions. The mountains, the plains, the\nrivers, the seas, the islands of ancient Greece itself were not more\nthickly haunted by the phantoms of a fairy mythology than are the barren\nsun-scorched steppes and stony hills of the Australian wilderness; but\ngreat indeed is the gulf which divides the beautiful creations of Greek\nfancy from the crude imaginings of the Australian savage, whose\nlegendary tales are for the most part a mere tissue of trivial\nabsurdities unrelieved by a single touch of beauty or poetry.\n\n[Sidenote: A journey through the Warramunga country.]\n\nTo illustrate at once the nature and the abundance of these legends I\nwill quote a passage in which Messrs. Spencer and Gillen describe a\njourney they took in company with some Warramunga natives over part of\ntheir country:--\"For the first two days our way lay across miserable\nplain country covered with poor scrub, with here and there low ranges\nrising. Every prominent feature of any kind was associated with some\ntradition of their past. A range some five miles away from Tennant Creek\narose to mark the path traversed by the great ancestor of the Pittongu\n(bat) totem. Several miles further on a solitary upstanding column of\nrock represented an opossum man who rested here, looked about the\ncountry, and left spirit children behind him; a low range of remarkably\nwhite quartzite hills indicated a large number of white ant eggs thrown\nhere in the _wingara_[146] by the Munga-munga women as they passed\nacross the country. A solitary flat-topped hill arose to mark the spot\nwhere the Wongana (crow) ancestor paused for some time to pierce his\nnose; and on the second night we camped by the side of a waterhole where\nthe same crow lived for some time in the _wingara_, and where now there\nare plenty of crow spirit children. All the time, as we travelled along,\nthe old men were talking amongst themselves about the natural features\nassociated in tradition with these and other totemic ancestors of the\ntribe, and pointing them out to us. On the third day we travelled, at\nfirst for some hours, by the side of a river-bed,--perfectly dry of\ncourse,--and passed the spot where two hawks first made fire by rubbing\nsticks together, two fine gum-trees on the banks now representing the\nplace where they stood up. A few miles further on we came to a\nwater-hole by the side of which the moon-man met a bandicoot woman, and\nwhile the two were talking together the fire made by the hawks crept\nupon them and burnt the woman, who was, however, restored to life again\nby the moon-man, with whom she then went up into the sky. Late in the\nafternoon we skirted the eastern base of the Murchison Range, the rugged\nquartzite hills in this part being associated partly with the crow\nancestor and partly with the bat. Following up a valley leading into the\nhills we camped, just after sunset, by the side of a rather picturesque\nwater-pool amongst the ranges. A short distance before reaching this the\nnatives pointed out a curious red cliff, standing out amongst the low\nhills which were elsewhere covered with thin scrub. This, which is\ncalled Tjiti, represents the spot where an old woman spent a long time\ndigging for yams, the latter being indicated by great heaps of stones\nlying all around. On the opposite side of the valley a column of stone\nmarks the spot where the woman went into the earth. The water-hole by\nwhich we were camped was called Wiarminni. It was in reality a deep pool\nin the bed of a creek coming down from the hills. Behind it the rocks\nrose abruptly, and amongst them there was, or rather would have been if\na stream had been flowing, a succession of cascades and rocky\nwater-holes. Two of the latter, just above Wiarminni, are connected with\na fish totem, and represent the spot where two fish men arose in the\n_alcheringa_, fought one another, left spirit children behind, and\nfinally went down into the ground. We were now, so to speak, in the very\nmidst of _mungai_ [i.e. of places associated with the totems], for the\nold totemic ancestors of the tribe, who showed a most commendable\nfondness for arising and walking about in the few picturesque spots\nwhich their country contained, had apparently selected these rocky\ngorges as their central home. All around us the water-holes, gorges, and\nrocky crags were peopled with spirit individuals left behind by one or\nother of the following totemic ancestors:--Wollunqua, Pittongu (bat),\nWongana (crow), wild dog, emu, bandicoot, and fish, whose lines of\ntravel in the _alcheringa_ formed a regular network over the whole\ncountryside.\"[147]\n\n[Sidenote: Dramatic ceremonies to commemorate the doings of ancestors.]\n\nSimilar evidence could be multiplied, but this may suffice to teach us\nhow to the minds of these Central Australian savages the whole country\nis haunted, in the literal sense, not merely by the memories of their\ndead, but by the spirits which they left behind them and which are\nconstantly undergoing reincarnation. And not only are the minds of the\naborigines preoccupied by the thought of their ancestors, who are\nrecalled to them by all the familiar features of the landscape, but they\nspend a considerable part of their time in dramatically representing the\nlegendary doings of their rude forefathers of the remote past. It is\nastonishing, we are told, how large a part of a native's life is\noccupied with the performance of these dramatic ceremonies. The older he\ngrows, the greater is the share he takes in them, until at last they\nactually absorb the greater part of his thoughts. The rites which seem\nso trivial to us are most serious matters to him. They are all connected\nwith the great ancestors of the tribe, and he is firmly convinced that\nwhen he dies his spirit will rejoin theirs and live in communion with\nthem until the time comes for him to be born again into the world. With\nsuch solemnity does he look on the celebration of these commemorative\nservices, as we may call them, that none but initiated men are allowed\nto witness them; women and children are strictly excluded from the\nspectacle. These sacred dramas are often, though by no means always,\nassociated with the rites of initiation which young men have to pass\nthrough before they are admitted to full membership of the tribe and to\nparticipation in its deepest mysteries. The rites of initiation are not\nall undergone by a youth at the same time; they succeed each other at\nlonger or shorter intervals of time, and at each of them he is\nprivileged to witness some of the solemn ceremonies in which the\ntraditions of the tribal ancestors are dramatically set forth before\nhim, until, when he has passed through the last of the rites and\nordeals, he is free to behold and to take part in the whole series of\nmystery plays or professedly historical dramas. Sometimes the\nperformance of these dramas extends over two or three months, during\nwhich one or more of them are acted daily.[148] For the most part, they\nare very short and simple, each of them generally lasting only a few\nminutes, though the costumes of the actors are often elaborate and may\nhave taken hours to prepare. I will describe a few of them as samples.\n\n[Sidenote: Ceremony of the Hakea flower totem.]\n\nWe will begin with a ceremony of the Hakea flower totem in the Arunta\ntribe, as to which it may be premised that a decoction of the Hakea\nflower is a favourite drink of the natives. The little drama was acted\nby two men, each of whom was decorated on his bare body by broad bands\nof pearly grey edged with white down, which passed round his waist and\nover his shoulders, contrasting well with the chocolate colour of his\nskin. On his head each of them wore a kind of helmet made of twigs, and\nfrom their ears hung tips of the tails of rabbit-bandicoots. The two sat\non the ground facing each other with a shield between them. One of them\nheld in his hand some twigs representing the Hakea flower in bloom;\nthese he pretended to steep in water so as to brew the favourite\nbeverage of the natives, and the man sitting opposite him made believe\nto suck it up with a little mop. Meantime the other men ran round and\nround them shouting _wha! wha!_ This was the substance of the play,\nwhich ended as usual by several men placing their hands on the shoulders\nof the performers as a signal to them to stop.[149]\n\n[Sidenote: Ceremony of a fish totem.]\n\nAgain, to take another Arunta ceremony of a fish totem called\n_interpitna_. The fish is the bony bream (_Chatoessus horni_), which\nabounds in the water-holes of the country. The play was performed by a\nsingle actor, an old man, whose face was covered with a mass of white\ndown contrasting strongly with a large bunch of black eagle-hawk\nfeathers which he wore on his head. His body was decorated with bands of\ncharcoal edged with white down. Squatting on the ground he moved his\nbody and extended his arms from his sides, opening and closing them as\nhe leaned forwards, so as to imitate a fish swelling itself out and\nopening and closing its gills. Then, holding twigs in his hands, he\nmoved along mimicking the action of a man who drives fish before him\nwith a branch in a pool, just as the natives do to catch the fish.\nMeantime an orchestra of four men squatted beside him singing and\nbeating time with a stick on the ground.[150]\n\n[Sidenote: Ceremony of a plum-tree totem.]\n\nAgain, another Arunta ceremony of the plum-tree totem was performed by\nfour actors, who simply pretended to knock down and eat imaginary plums\nfrom an imaginary plum-tree.[151] An interesting point in this very\nsimple drama is that in it the men of the plum-tree totem are\nrepresented eating freely of their totem, which is quite contrary to the\npractice of the present day, but taken along with many similar\nceremonies it goes far to prove that in the ancient days, to which all\nthese dramatic ceremonies refer, it was the regular practice for men and\nwomen of a totem to eat their totemic animals or plants. As another\nexample of a drama in which the performers are represented eating their\ntotem we may take a ceremony of the ant totem in the Warramunga tribe.\nThe legendary personages who figure in it are two women of the ant\ntotem, ancestresses of the ant clan, who are said to have devoted all\ntheir time to catching and eating ants, except when they were engaged in\nthe performance of ceremonies. The two men who personated these women in\nthe drama (for no woman is allowed to witness, much less to act in,\nthese sacred dramas) had the whole of the upper parts of their bodies,\nincluding their faces and the cylindrical helmets which they wore on\ntheir heads, covered with a dense mass of little specks of red down.\nThese specks stood for the ants, alive or dead, and also for the stones\nand trees on the spots where the two women encamped. In the drama the\ntwo actors thus arrayed walked about the ground as if they were\nsearching for ants to eat. Each of them carried a wooden trough and\nstooping down from time to time he turned over the ground and picked up\nsmall stones which he placed in the trough till it was full. The stones\nrepresented the masses of ants which the women gathered for food. After\ncarrying on this pantomime for a time the two actors pretended to\ndiscover each other with surprise and to embrace with joy, much to the\namusement of the spectators.[152]\n\n[Sidenote: In these ceremonies the action is appropriate to the totem.\nCeremony of the witchetty grub totem.]\n\nIn all these ceremonies you will observe that the action of the drama is\nstrictly appropriate to the totem. In the drama of the Hakea flower\ntotem the actors pretend to make and drink the beverage brewed from\nHakea flowers; in the ceremony of the fish totem the actor feigns to be\na fish and also to catch fish; in the ceremony of the plum-tree totem\nthe actors pretend to knock down and eat plums; and in the ceremony of\nthe ant totem the actors make believe to gather ants for food.\nSimilarly, to take a few more examples, in a ceremony of the witchetty\ngrub totem of the Arunta tribe the body of the actor was decorated with\nlines of white and red down, and he had a shield adorned with a number\nof concentric circles of down. The smaller circles represented the bush\non which the grub lives first of all, and the larger circles represented\nthe bush on which the adult insect lays its eggs. When all was ready,\nthe performer seated himself on the ground and imitated the grub,\nalternately doubling himself up and rising on his knees, while he\nextended his arms and made them quiver in imitation of the insect's\nwings; and every now and then he would bend over the shield and sway to\nand fro, and up and down, in imitation of the insect hovering over the\nbushes on which it lays its eggs.[153] In another ceremony of the\nwitchetty grub totem, which followed immediately the one I have just\ndescribed, the actor had two shields beside him. The smaller of the\nshields was ornamented with zigzag lines of white pipe-clay which were\nsupposed to indicate the tracks of the grub; the larger shield was\ncovered with larger and smaller series of concentric circles, the larger\nrepresenting the seeds of a bush on which the insect feeds, while the\nsmaller stood for the eggs of the adult insect. As before, the actor\nwriggled and flapped his arms in imitation of the fluttering of the\ninsect when it first leaves its chrysalis case in the ground and\nattempts to fly. In acting thus he was supposed to represent a\ncelebrated ancestor of the witchetty grub totem.[154]\n\n[Sidenote: Ceremony of the emu totem.]\n\nThe last example of such ceremonies which I shall cite is one of the emu\ntotem in the Arunta tribe. The body of the actor was decorated with\nperpendicular lines of white down reaching from his shoulders to his\nknees; and on his head he supported a towering head-piece tipped with a\nbunch of emu feathers in imitation of the neck and head of an emu. Thus\narrayed he stalked backwards and forwards in the aimless fashion of the\nbird.[155]\n\n[Sidenote: These dramatic ceremonies were probably at first magical\nrites intended to supply the people with food and other necessaries.]\n\nWhat are we to think of the intention of these little dramas which the\nCentral Australian aborigines regard as sacred and to the performance of\nwhich they devote so much time and labour? At first sight they are\nsimply commemorative services, designed to represent the ancestors as\nthey lived and moved in the far-past times, to recall their adventures,\nof which legend has preserved the memory, and to set them dramatically\nbefore the eyes of their living descendants. So far, therefore, the\ndramas might be described as purely historical in intention, if not in\nreality. But there are reasons for thinking that in all cases a deeper\nmeaning underlies, or formerly underlay, the performance of all these\napparently simple historical plays; in fact, we may suspect that\noriginally they were all magical ceremonies observed for the practical\npurpose of supplying the people with food, water, sunshine, and\neverything else of which they stand in need. This conclusion is\nsuggested first of all by the practice of the Arunta and other Central\nAustralian tribes, who observe very similar ceremonies with the avowed\nintention of thereby multiplying the totemic animals and plants in order\nthat they may be eaten by the tribe, though not by the particular clan\nwhich has these animals or plants for its totem. It is true that the\nArunta distinguish these magical ceremonies for the multiplication of\nthe totems from what we may call the more purely commemorative or\nhistorical performances, and they have a special name for the former,\nnamely _intichiuma_, which they do not bestow on the latter. Yet these\n_intichiuma_ or magical ceremonies resemble the commemorative ceremonies\nso closely that it is difficult to suppose they can always have been\nwholly distinct. For example, in the magical ceremonies for the\nmultiplication of witchetty grubs the performers pretend to be the\ninsects emerging from their chrysalis cases,[156] just as the actors do\nin the similar commemorative ceremony which I have described; and again\nin a magical ceremony for the multiplication of emus the performers wear\nhead-dresses to represent the long neck and small head of the bird, and\nthey mimic its gait,[157] exactly as the actors do in the commemorative\nceremony. It seems reasonable, therefore, to conjecture that the\nceremonies which now are, or seem to be, purely commemorative or\nhistorical were originally magical in intention, being observed for the\npractical purpose of multiplying edible animals and plants or supplying\nother wants of the tribe.\n\n[Sidenote: Among the Warramunga these dramatic ceremonies are avowedly\nperformed as magical rites.]\n\nNow this conjecture is strongly confirmed by the actual usage of the\nWarramunga tribe, amongst whom the commemorative or historical dramas\nare avowedly performed as magical rites: in other words, the Warramunga\nattribute a magical virtue to the simple performance of such dramas:\nthey think that by merely acting the parts of their totemic ancestors\nthey thereby magically multiply the edible animals or plants which these\nancestors had for their totems. Hence in this tribe the magical\nceremonies and the dramatic performances practically coincide: with\nthem, as Messrs. Spencer and Gillen say, the _intichiuma_ or magical\nceremonies (called by the Warramunga _thalamminta_) \"for the most part\nsimply consist in the performance of a complete series representing the\n_alcheringa_ history of the totemic ancestor. In this tribe each totemic\ngroup has usually one great ancestor, who arose in some special spot and\nwalked across the country, making various natural features as he did\nso,--creeks, plains, ranges, and water-holes,--and leaving behind him\nspirit individuals who have since been reincarnated. The _intichiuma_\n[or magical] ceremony of the totem really consists in tracking these\nancestors' paths, and repeating, one after the other, ceremonies\ncommemorative of what are called the _mungai_ spots, the equivalent of\nthe _oknanikilla_ amongst the Arunta--that is, the places where he left\nthe spirit children behind.\"[158] Apparently the Warramunga imagine that\nby imitating a totemic ancestor at the very place where he left spirit\nchildren of the same totem behind him, they thereby enable these spirit\nchildren to be born again and so increase the food supply, whenever\ntheir totem is an edible animal or plant; for we must always remember\nthat in the mind of these savages the idea of a man or woman is\ninextricably confused with the idea of his or her totem; they seem\nunable to distinguish between the two, and therefore they believe that\nin multiplying human beings at their local totemic centres (_mungai_ or\n_oknanikilla_) they simultaneously multiply their totems; and as the\ntotems are commonly edible animals and plants, it follows that in the\nopinion of the Warramunga the general effect of performing these\nancestral plays is to increase the supply of food of the tribe. No\nwonder, therefore, that the dramas are sacred, and that the natives\nattribute the most serious significance to their performance: the\nneglect to perform them might, in their judgment, bring famine and ruin\non the whole tribe. As Messrs. Spencer and Gillen, speaking of these\nceremonies, justly observe: \"Their proper performance is a matter of\nvery great importance in the eyes of the natives, because, not only do\nthey serve to keep alive and hand down from generation to generation the\ntraditions of the tribe, but they are, at least amongst the Warramunga,\nintimately associated with the most important object of maintaining the\nfood supply, as every totemic group is held responsible for the\nmaintenance of the material object the name of which it bears.\"[159]\n\n[Sidenote: General view of the attitude of the Central Australian\nnatives towards their dead.]\n\nTo sum up the attitude of the Central Australian natives towards their\ndead. They believe that their dead are constantly undergoing\nreincarnation by being born again of women into the world, in fact that\nevery living man, woman, and child is nothing but a dead person come to\nlife again, that so it has been from the beginning and that so it will\nbe to the end. Of a special world of the departed, remote and different\nfrom the material world in which they live and from the familiar scenes\nto which they have been accustomed from infancy, they have no\nconception; still less, if that is possible, have they any idea of a\ndivision of the world of the dead into a realm of bliss and a realm of\nwoe, where the spirits of the good live ineffably happy and the spirits\nof the bad live unspeakably miserable. To their simple minds the spirits\nof the dead dwell all about them in the rocky gorges, the barren plains,\nthe wooded dells, the rustling trees, the still waters of their native\nland, haunting in death the very spots where they last entered into\ntheir mothers' wombs to be born, and where in future they will again\nenter into the wombs of other women to be born again as other children\ninto the world. And so, they think, it will go on for ever and ever.\nSuch a creed seems at first sight, as I have pointed out, irreconcilable\nwith a worship of the dead in the proper sense of the word; and so\nperhaps it would be, if these savages were strictly consistent and\nlogical in their theories. But they are not. They admit that their\nremote ancestors, in other words, that they themselves in former\nincarnations, possessed certain marvellous powers to which in the\npresent degenerate days they can lay no claim; and in this significant\nadmission we may detect a rift, a real distinction of kind, between the\nliving and the dead, which in time might widen out into an impassable\ngulf. In other words, we may suppose that the Central Australians, if\nleft to themselves, might come to hold that the dead return no more to\nthe land of the living, and that, acknowledging as they do the vast\nsuperiority of their remote ancestors to themselves, they might end by\nworshipping them, at first simply as powerful ancestral spirits, and\nafterwards as supernatural deities, whose original connexion with\nhumanity had been totally forgotten. In point of fact we saw that among\nthe Warramunga the mythical water-snake Wollunqua, who is regarded as an\nancestor of a totemic clan, has made some progress towards deification;\nfor while he is still regarded as the forefather of the clan which bears\nhis name, it is no longer supposed that he is born again of women into\nthe world, but that he lives eternal and invisible under the water of a\nhaunted pool, and that he has it in his power both to help and to harm\nhis people, who pray to him and perform ceremonies in his honour. This\nawful being, whose voice is heard in the peal of thunder and whose\ndreadful name may not be pronounced in common life, is not far from\ngodhead; at least he is apparently the nearest approach to it which the\nimagination of these rude savages has been able to conceive. Lastly, as\nI have pointed out, the reverence which the Central Australians\nentertain for their dead ancestors is closely bound up with their\ntotemism; they fail to distinguish clearly or at all between men and\ntheir totems, and accordingly the ceremonies which they perform to\ncommemorate the dead are at the same time magical rites designed to\nensure an abundant supply of food and of all the other necessaries and\nconveniences which savage life requires or admits of; indeed, we may\nwith some probability conjecture that the magical intention of these\nceremonies is the primary and original one, and that the commemorative\nintention is secondary and derivative. If that could be proved to be so\n(which is hardly to be expected), we should be obliged to conclude that\nin this as in so many enquiries into the remote human past we detect\nevidence of an Age of Magic preceding anything that deserves to be\ndignified with the name of religion.\n\nThat ends what I have to say at present as to the belief in immortality\nand the worship of the dead among the Central Australian aborigines. In\nmy next lecture I propose to pursue the enquiry among the other tribes\nof Australia.\n\n[Footnote 137: Spencer and Gillen, _Northern Tribes of Central\nAustralia_, pp. 228 _sq._]\n\n[Footnote 138: Spencer and Gillen, _Northern Tribes of Central\nAustralia_, pp. 229 _sq._]\n\n[Footnote 139: Spencer and Gillen, _op. cit._ pp. 230 _sq._]\n\n[Footnote 140: Spencer and Gillen, _Northern Tribes of Central\nAustralia_, pp. 231-238.]\n\n[Footnote 141: Spencer and Gillen, _op. cit._ p. 238.]\n\n[Footnote 142: Spencer and Gillen, _op. cit._ pp. 238 _sq._]\n\n[Footnote 143: Spencer and Gillen, _Northern Tribes of Central\nAustralia_, pp. 239-247.]\n\n[Footnote 144: Spencer and Gillen, _op. cit._ p. 248.]\n\n[Footnote 145: \"On the other hand there is a great difference between\nthe Wollunqua and any other totem, inasmuch as the particular animal is\npurely mythical, and except for the one great progenitor of the totemic\ngroup, is not supposed to exist at the present day\" (Spencer and Gillen,\n_Northern Tribes of Central Australia_, p. 248).]\n\n[Footnote 146: The _wingara_ is the equivalent of the Arunta\n_alcheringa_, that is, the earliest legendary or mythical times of which\nthe natives profess to have knowledge.]\n\n[Footnote 147: Spencer and Gillen, _Northern Tribes of Central\nAustralia_, pp. 249 _sq._]\n\n[Footnote 148: Spencer and Gillen, _Northern Tribes of Central\nAustralia_, pp. 33 _sq._, 177 _sq._]\n\n[Footnote 149: Spencer and Gillen, _Native Tribes of Central Australia_,\npp. 297 _sq._]\n\n[Footnote 150: Spencer and Gillen, _Native Tribes of Central Australia_,\npp. 316 _sq._]\n\n[Footnote 151: Spencer and Gillen, _op. cit._ p. 320.]\n\n[Footnote 152: Spencer and Gillen, _Northern Tribes of Central\nAustralia_, pp. 199-204.]\n\n[Footnote 153: Spencer and Gillen, _Northern Tribes of Central\nAustralia_, pp. 179 _sq._]\n\n[Footnote 154: Spencer and Gillen, _Northern Tribes of Central\nAustralia_, pp. 179 _sq._]\n\n[Footnote 155: Spencer and Gillen, _Native Tribes of Central Australia_,\npp. 358 _sq._, and p. 343, fig 73.]\n\n[Footnote 156: Spencer and Gillen, _Native Tribes of Central Australia_,\np. 176.]\n\n[Footnote 157: Spencer and Gillen, _op. cit._ pp. 182 _sq._]\n\n[Footnote 158: Spencer and Gillen, _Northern Tribes of Central\nAustralia_, p. 297.]\n\n[Footnote 159: Spencer and Gillen, _Northern Tribes of Central\nAustralia_, p. 197.]\n\n\n\n\nLECTURE VI\n\nTHE BELIEF IN IMMORTALITY AMONG THE OTHER ABORIGINES OF AUSTRALIA\n\n\n[Sidenote: Customs and beliefs concerning the dead in the other tribes\nof Australia.]\n\nIn the last lecture I concluded my account of the beliefs and practices\nof the Central Australian aborigines in regard to the dead. To-day I\npropose to consider the customs and beliefs concerning the dead which\nprevail among the native tribes in other parts of Australia. But at the\noutset I must warn you that our information as to these other tribes is\nfar less full and precise than that which we possess as to the tribes of\nthe centre, which have had the great advantage of being observed and\ndescribed by two highly qualified scientific observers, Messrs. Spencer\nand Gillen. Our knowledge of all other Australian tribes is\ncomparatively fragmentary, and accordingly it is impossible to give even\nan approximately complete view of their notions concerning the state of\nthe human spirit after death, and of the rites which they observe for\nthe purpose of disarming or propitiating the souls of the departed. We\nmust therefore content ourselves with more or less partial glimpses of\nthis side of native religion.\n\n[Sidenote: Belief in the reincarnation of the dead among the natives of\nQueensland. The _ngai_ spirits.]\n\nThe first question we naturally ask is whether the belief in the\nreincarnation of the dead, which prevails universally among the Central\ntribes, reappears among tribes in other parts of the continent. It\ncertainly does so, and although the evidence on this subject is very\nimperfect it suffices to raise presumption that a similar belief in the\nrebirth or reincarnation of the dead was formerly universal among the\nAustralian aborigines. Unquestionably the belief is entertained by some\nof the natives of Queensland, who have been described for us by Mr. W.\nE. Roth. Thus, for example, the aborigines on the Pennefather River\nthink that every person's spirit undergoes a series of reincarnations,\nand that in the interval between two reincarnations the spirit resides\nin one or other of the haunts of Anjea, a mythical being who causes\nconception in women by putting mud babies into their bodies. Such spots,\nhaunted by the fabulous being Anjea and by the souls of the dead\nawaiting rebirth, may be a tree, a rock, or a pool of water; they\nclearly correspond to the local totem centres (_oknanikilla_ among the\nArunta, _mungai_ among the Warramunga) of the Central Australian tribes\nwhich I described in former lectures. The natives of the Pennefather\nRiver observe a ceremony at the birth of a child in order to ascertain\nthe exact spot where its spirit tarried in the interval since its last\nincarnation; and when they have discovered it they speak of the child as\nobtained from a tree, a rock, or a pool of water, according to the place\nfrom which its spirit is supposed to have passed into its mother.[160]\nReaders of the classics can hardly fail to be reminded of the Homeric\nphrase to be \"born of an oak or a rock,\"[161] which seems to point to a\nsimilar belief in the possibility of human souls awaiting reincarnation\nin the boughs of an oak-tree or in the cleft of a rock. In the opinion\nof the Pennefather natives all disembodied human spirits or _choi_, as\nthey call them, are mischief-makers and evildoers, for they make people\nsick or crazy; but the medicine-men can sometimes control them for good\nor evil. They wander about in the bush, but there are certain hollow\ntrees or clumps of trees with wide-spreading branches, which they most\nlove to haunt, and they can be heard in the rustling of the leaves or\nthe crackling of the boughs at night. Anjea himself, who puts babies\ninto women, is never seen, but you may hear him laughing in the depths\nof the forest, among the rocks, in the lagoons, and along the mangrove\nswamps; and when you hear his laugh you may be sure that he has got a\nbaby.[162] If a native happens to hurt himself near a tree, he imagines\nthat the spirit of some dead person is lurking among the branches, and\nhe will never cut that tree down lest a worse thing should befall him at\nthe hands of the vengeful ghost.[163] A curious feature in the beliefs\nof these Pennefather natives is that apart from the spirit called\n_choi_, which lives in a disembodied state between two incarnations,\nevery person is supposed to have a spirit of a different sort called\n_ngai_, which has its seat in the heart; they feel it beating within\ntheir breast; it talks to them in sleep and so is the cause of dreams.\nAt death a man's _ngai_ spirit does not go away into the bush to await\nreincarnation like his _choi_ spirit; on the contrary, it passes at once\ninto his children, boys and girls alike; for before their father's death\nchildren are supposed not to possess a _ngai_ spirit; if a child dies\nbefore its father, they think that it never had a _ngai_ spirit at all.\nAnd the _ngai_ spirit may leave a man in his lifetime as well as at\ndeath; for example, when a person faints, the natives think that he does\nso because his _ngai_ spirit has departed from him, and they will stamp\non the ground to make it return. On the other hand the _choi_ spirit is\nsupposed never to quit a man during life; it is thought to be in some\nundefined way related to the shadow, whereas the _ngai_ spirit, as we\nsaw, manifests itself in the beating of the heart. When a woman dies,\nher _ngai_ spirit goes not into her children but into her sisters, one\nafter the other; and when all the sisters are dead, the woman's _ngai_\nspirit goes away among the mangroves and perishes altogether.[164]\n\nThus these savages explain the phenomena of birth and death, of\nconscious and unconscious life, by a theory of a double human spirit,\none associated with the heart and the other with the shadow. The\npsychology is rudimentary, still it is interesting as an attempt to\nsolve problems which still puzzle civilised man.\n\n[Sidenote: Beliefs of the natives of Cape Bedford in Queensland.]\n\nOther Queensland aborigines associate the vital principle not with the\nheart but with the breath. For example, at Cape Bedford the natives call\nit _wau-wu_ and think that it never leaves the body sleeping or waking\ntill death, when it haunts its place of burial for a time and may\ncommunicate with the living. Thus, like the ghost of Hamlet's father, it\nwill often appear to a near kinsman or intimate friend, tell him the\npitiful tale how he was done to death by an enemy, and urge him to\nrevenge. Again, the soul of a man's dead father or friend may bear him\ncompany on a journey and, like the beryl-stone in Rossetti's poem _Rose\nMary_, warn him of an ambuscade lurking for him in a spot where the man\nhimself sees nothing. But the spirits of the dead do not always come\nwith such friendly intent; they may drive the living distracted; a\npeculiar form of mental excitement and bewilderment is attributed to\ntheir action. Further, these aborigines at Cape Bedford, in Queensland,\nbelieve that all spirits of nature are in fact souls of the dead. Such\nspirits usually leave their haunts in the forests and caves at night.\nStout-hearted old men can see and converse with them and receive from\nthem warnings of danger; but women and children fear these spirits and\nnever see them. But some spirits of the dead, when they have ceased to\nhaunt their places of burial, go away eastward and are reincarnated in\nwhite people; hence these savages often look for a resemblance to some\ndeceased tribesman among Europeans, and frequently wonder why it is that\nthe white man, on whom their fancy has pitched, remembers nothing about\nhis former life as a black man among blacks.[165]\n\n[Sidenote: Beliefs of the natives of the Tully River in Queensland.]\n\nThe natives of the Tully River in Queensland associate the principle of\nlife both with the breath and with the shadow. It departs from the body\ntemporarily in sleep and fainting-fits and permanently in death, after\nwhich it may be heard at night tapping on the top of huts or creaking in\nthe branches of trees. It is everlasting, so far as these savages have\nany idea of eternity, and further it is intangible; hence in its\ndisembodied state it needs no food, and none is set out for it. The\ndisposition of these disembodied spirits of the dead is good or bad,\naccording to their disposition in life. Yet when a man is alone by\nhimself, the spirit even of one of his own dead kinsfolk will sometimes\ncome and do him a mischief. On the other hand it can do nothing to\nseveral people together; there is safety in numbers. They may all see\nand hear the ghost, but he will not attack them. Hence these savages\nhave been taught from childhood to beware of going alone: solitary\npeople are liable at any moment to be assailed by the spirits of the\ndead. The only means they know of warding off these ghostly assailants\nis by lighting good fires.[166]\n\n[Sidenote: Belief of the Australian aborigines that their dead are\nreborn in white people.]\n\nI have mentioned the belief of the Cape Bedford natives that the spirits\nof their dead are sometimes reincarnated in white people. A similar\nnotion is reported from other and widely separated parts of Australia,\nand wherever it exists may be taken as evidence of a general belief as\nto the rebirth or reincarnation of the dead, even where such a belief is\nnot expressly recorded. This superstition has sometimes proved of\nservice to white people who have been cast among the blacks, for it has\nensured them a hospitable and even affectionate welcome, where otherwise\nthey might have encountered suspicion and hostility, if not open\nviolence. Thus, for example, the convict Buckley, who escaped from the\npenal settlement on Port Phillip Bay in 1803, was found by some of the\nWudthaurung tribe carrying a piece of a broken spear, which he had\nabstracted from the grave of one of their people. So they took him to be\nthe dead man risen from the grave; he received the name of the deceased,\nwas adopted by his relations, and lived with the tribe for thirty-two\nyears without ever conversing with a white man; when at last he met one,\nhe had forgotten the English language.[167] Again, a Mr. Naseby, who\nlived in the Kamilaroi country for fifty years, happened to have the\nmarks of cupping on his back, and the natives could not be persuaded\nthat he was not one of themselves come to life again with the family\nscars on his body,[168] for the Australian aborigines commonly raise\nscars on the bodies of young men at initiation. The late Sir George Grey\nwas identified by an old Australian woman as her dead son come to life\nagain. It may be worth while to quote his account of this unlooked-for\nmeeting with his long-lost mother; for it will impress on you, better\nthan any words of mine could do, the firmness of the faith which these\nsavages repose in the resurrection of the body, or at all events in the\nreincarnation of the soul. Grey writes as follows:--\n\n[Sidenote: Experience of Sir George Grey.]\n\n\"After we had tethered the horses, and made ourselves tolerably\ncomfortable, we heard loud voices from the hills above us: the effect\nwas fine,--for they really almost appeared to float in the air; and as\nthe wild cries of the women, who knew not our exact position, came by\nupon the wind, I thought it was well worth a little trouble to hear\nthese savage sounds under such circumstances. Our guides shouted in\nreturn, and gradually the approaching cries came nearer and nearer. I\nwas, however, wholly unprepared for the scene that was about to take\nplace. A sort of procession came up, headed by two women, down whose\ncheeks tears were streaming. The eldest of these came up to me, and\nlooking for a moment at me, said,--'_Gwa, gwa, bundo, bal_,'--'Yes, yes,\nin truth it is him'; and then throwing her arms round me, cried\nbitterly, her head resting on my breast; and although I was totally\nignorant of what their meaning was, from mere motives of compassion, I\noffered no resistance to her caresses, however disagreeable they might\nbe, for she was old, ugly, and filthily dirty; the other younger one\nknelt at my feet, also crying. At last the old lady, emboldened by my\nsubmission, deliberately kissed me on each cheek, just in the manner a\nFrenchwoman would have done; she then cried a little more, and at length\nrelieving me, assured me that I was the ghost of her son, who had some\ntime before been killed by a spear-wound in his breast. The younger\nfemale was my sister; but she, whether from motives of delicacy, or from\nany imagined backwardness on my part, did not think proper to kiss me.\nMy new mother expressed almost as much delight at my return to my\nfamily, as my real mother would have done, had I been unexpectedly\nrestored to her. As soon as she left me, my brothers, and father (the\nold man who had previously been so frightened), came up and embraced me\nafter their manner,--that is, they threw their arms round my waist,\nplaced their right knee against my right knee, and their breast against\nmy breast, holding me in this way for several minutes. During the time\nthat the ceremony lasted, I, according to the native custom, preserved a\ngrave and mournful expression of countenance. This belief, that white\npeople are the souls of departed blacks, is by no means an uncommon\nsuperstition amongst them; they themselves never having an idea of\nquitting their own land, cannot imagine others doing it;--and thus, when\nthey see white people suddenly appear in their country, and settling\nthemselves down in particular spots, they imagine that they must have\nformed an attachment for this land in some other state of existence; and\nhence conclude the settlers were at one period black men and their own\nrelations. Likenesses, whether real or imagined, complete the delusion;\nand from the manner of the old woman I have just alluded to, from her\nmany tears, and from her warm caresses, I feel firmly convinced that she\nreally believed I was her son, whose first thought, upon his return to\nearth, had been to re-visit his old mother, and bring her a\npresent.\"[169]\n\n[Sidenote: In South-eastern Australia the natives believed that the\nsouls of the dead were not reborn but went up to the sky.]\n\nOn the whole then we may conclude that a belief in the reincarnation of\nthe dead has not been confined to the tribes of Central Australia, but\nhas been held by the tribes in many, perhaps at one time in all, other\nparts of the continent. Yet, if we may judge from the imperfect records\nwhich we possess, this faith in the return of the dead to life in human\nform would seem to have given way and been replaced to some extent by a\ndifferent creed among many tribes of South-eastern Australia. In this\npart of the continent it appears to have been often held by the natives\nthat after death the soul is not born again among men, but goes away for\never to some distant country either in the sky or beyond the sea, where\nall the spirits of the dead congregate. Thus Lieutenant-Colonel Collins,\nwho was Governor of New South Wales in the early days of the colony, at\nthe end of the eighteenth century, reports that when the natives were\noften questioned \"as to what became of them after their decease, some\nanswered that they went either on or beyond the great water; but by far\nthe greater number signified, that they went to the clouds.\"[170] Again,\nthe Narrinyeri tribe of South Australia believed that all the dead went\nup to the sky and that some of them at least became stars. We possess an\nexcellent description of the beliefs and customs of this tribe from the\npen of a missionary, the Rev. George Taplin, who lived among them for\nmany years. His account of their theory of the state of the dead is\ninstructive. It runs thus:--\n\n[Sidenote: Beliefs of the Narrinyeri concerning the dead.]\n\n\"The Narrinyeri point out several stars, and say that they are deceased\nwarriors who have gone to heaven (_Wyirrewarre_). There are Wyungare,\nand Nepalle, and the Manchingga, and several others. Every native\nexpects to go to _Wyirrewarre_ after death. They also believe that the\ndead descend from thence, and walk the earth; and that they are able to\ninjure those whom they dislike. Consequently, men who have been\nnotorious in life for a domineering and revengeful disposition are very\nmuch dreaded after death. For instance, there is Karungpe, who comes in\nthe dead of night, when the camp fire has burned low, and like a rushing\nwind scatters the dying embers, and then takes advantage of the darkness\nto rob some sleeper of life; and it is considered dangerous to whistle\nin the dark, for Karungpe is especially attracted by a whistle. There is\nanother restless spirit--the deceased father of a boy whom I well\nknow--who is said to rove about armed with a rope, with which he catches\npeople. All the Narrinyeri, old and young, are dreadfully afraid of\nseeing ghosts, and none of them will venture into the scrub after dark,\nlest he should encounter the spirits which are supposed to roam there. I\nhave heard some admirable specimens of ghost stories from them. In one\ncase I remember the ghost was represented to have set fire to a _wurley_\n[hut], and ascended to heaven in the flame. The Narrinyeri regard the\ndisapprobation of the spirits of the dead as a thing to be dreaded; and\nif a serious quarrel takes place between near relatives, some of the\nfriends are sure to interpose with entreaties to the contentious parties\nto be reconciled, lest the spirits of the dead should be offended at\nunseemly disputes between those who ought to be at peace. The name of\nthe dead must not be mentioned until his body has decayed, lest a want\nof sorrow should seem to be indicated by the common and flippant use of\nhis name. A native would have the deceased believe that he cannot hear\nor speak his name without weeping.\"[171]\n\n[Sidenote: Narrinyeri fear of the dead. Mourning customs.]\n\nFrom this account it would appear that the Narrinyeri have no belief in\nthe reincarnation of the dead; they suppose that the souls of the\ndeparted live up aloft in the sky, from which they descend at night in\nthe form of ghosts to haunt and trouble the living. On the whole the\nattitude of the Narrinyeri towards their dead kinsfolk seems to be\ndominated by fear; of affection there is apparently little or no trace.\nIt is true that like most Australian tribes they indulge in extravagant\ndemonstrations of grief at the death of their kinsfolk. A great\nlamentation and wailing is made by all the relations and friends of the\ndeceased. They cut off their hair close to the head and besmudge\nthemselves with oil and pounded charcoal. The women besmear themselves\nwith the most disgusting filth. All beat and cut themselves and make a\nviolent show of sorrow; and all the time that the corpse, rubbed over\nwith grease and red ochre, is being dried over a slow fire in the hut,\nthe women take it by turns to weep and wail before it, so that the\nlamentation never ceases for days. Yet Mr. Taplin was persuaded \"that\nfear has more to do with most of these exhibitions than grief\"; and he\ntells us that \"for one minute a woman will appear in the deepest agony\nof grief and tears; a few minutes after, the conventional amount of\nweeping having been accomplished, they will laugh and talk with the\nmerriest.\"[172] The principal motive, in fact, for all this excessive\ndisplay of sorrow would seem to be a fear lest the jealous ghost should\nthink himself slighted and should avenge the slight on the cold-hearted\nrelatives who do not mourn sufficiently for the irreparable loss they\nhave sustained by his death. We may conjecture that the same train of\nthought explains the ancient and widespread custom of hiring\nprofessional mourners to wail over the dead; the tears and lamentations\nof his kinsfolk are not enough to soothe the wounded feelings of the\ndeparted, they must be reinforced by noisier expressions of regret.\n\n[Sidenote: Deaths attributed by the Narrinyeri to sorcery.]\n\nBut there is another powerful motive for all these violent\ndemonstrations of grief, into the secret of which we are let by Mr.\nTaplin. He says that \"all the relatives are careful to be present and\nnot to be wanting in the proper signs of sorrow, lest they should be\nsuspected of complicity in causing the death.\"[173] In fact the\nNarrinyeri, like many other savages, attribute all, or most, natural\ndeaths to sorcery. When a person dies, they think that he or she has\nbeen killed by the evil magic of some ill-wisher, and one of the first\nthings to be done is to discover the culprit in order that his life may\nbe taken in revenge. For this purpose the Narrinyeri resort to a form of\ndivination. On the first night after the death the nearest relation of\nthe deceased sleeps with his head on the corpse, hoping thus to dream of\nthe sorcerer who has done the mischief. Next day the corpse is placed on\na sort of bier supported on men's shoulders. The friends of the deceased\ngather round and call out the names of suspected persons to see whether\nthe corpse will give any sign. At last the next of kin calls out the\nname of the person of whom he has dreamed, and if at the sound the\ncorpse makes a movement towards him, which the bearers say they cannot\nresist, it is regarded as a clear token that the man so named is the\nmalefactor. It only remains for the kinsfolk of the dead to hunt down\nthe culprit and kill him.[174] Thus not only the relations but everybody\nin the neighbourhood has the strongest motive for assuming at least an\nappearance of sorrow at a death, lest the suspicion of having caused it\nby sorcery should fall upon him.\n\n[Sidenote: Pretence made by the Narrinyeri of avenging the death of\ntheir friends on the guilty sorcerer.]\n\nIt deserves to be noted, that while the Narrinyeri nominally\nacknowledged the duty of killing the sorcerer who in their opinion had\ncaused the death of their friend, they by no means always discharged the\nduty, but sometimes contented themselves with little more than a\npretence of revenge. Mr. Taplin's account of the proceedings observed on\nsuch an occasion is instructive. It runs thus: \"The spirit of the dead\nis not considered to have been appeased until his relatives have avenged\nhis death. They will kill the sorcerer who has caused it if they can\ncatch him; but generally they cannot catch him, and often do not wish\nit. Most probably he belongs to some other tribe of the Narrinyeri.\nMessengers pass between the tribes relative to the affair, and the\nfriends of the accused person at last formally curse the dead man and\nall his dead relatives. This constitutes a _casus belli_. Arrangements\nare forthwith made for a pitched battle, and the two tribes meet in\ncompany with their respective allies. The tribe to which the dead man\nbelongs weep and make a great lamentation for him, and the opposing\ntribe sets some fellows to dance about and play antics in derision of\ntheir enemies. Then the whole tribe will set up a great laugh by way of\nfurther provocation. If there is any other cause of animosity between\nthe tribes besides the matter of avenging the dead there will now be a\npretty severe fight with spears. If, however, the tribes have nothing\nbut the dead man to fight about, they will probably throw a few spears,\nindulge in considerable abuse of each other, perhaps one or two will get\nslightly wounded, and then some of the old men will declare that enough\nhas been done. The dead man is considered to have been appeased by the\nefforts of his friends to avenge his death by fighting, and the two\ntribes are friendly again. In such a case the fight is a mere\nceremony.\"[175] Thus among the Narrinyeri the duty of blood revenge was\noften supposed to be sufficiently discharged by a sham fight performed\napparently for the satisfaction of the ghost, who was supposed to be\nlooking on and to be gratified by the sight of his friends hurling\nspears at the author of his death. Merciful pretences of the same sort\nhave been practised by other savages in order to satisfy the vengeful\nghost without the effusion of blood. Examples of them will come before\nus later on.[176]\n\n[Sidenote: Magical virtue ascribed to the hair of the dead.]\n\nHowever, the attitude of the Narrinyeri towards their dead was not\npurely one of fear and aversion. They imagined that they could derive\ncertain benefits from their departed kinsfolk, and the channel through\nwhich these benefits flowed was furnished by their hair. They cut off\nthe hair of the dead and spun it into a cord, and this cord was commonly\nworn by the men as a head-band. They said that thereby they \"smelled the\ndead,\" and that the smell made their eyes large and their sight keen, so\nthat in a fight they could see the spears coming and could parry or\navoid them.[177] Similar magical virtues are ascribed to the hair of the\ndead by the Arunta. Among them the hair of a dead man is cut off and\nmade into a magic girdle, which is a valued possession and is only worn\nwhen a man is going out to engage in a tribal fight or to stalk a foe\nfor the purpose of destroying him by witchcraft. The girdle is supposed\nto be endowed with magic power and to impart to its possessor all the\nwarlike qualities of the dead man from whose hair it was made; in\nparticular, it is thought to ensure accuracy of aim in the wearer, while\nat the same time it destroys that of his adversary.[178] Hence the\ngirdle is worn by the man who takes the lead in avenging the death of\nthe deceased on his supposed murderer; the mere sight of it, they think,\nso terrifies the victim that his legs tremble under him, he becomes\nincapable of fighting, and is easily speared.[179]\n\n[Sidenote: Belief that the souls of the dead go up to the sky.]\n\nAmong the tribes of South-eastern Australia the Narrinyeri were not\nalone in holding the curious belief that the souls of the dead go up\ninto the sky to live there for ever, but that their ghosts come down\nagain from time to time, roam about their old haunts on earth, and\ncommunicate with the living. This, for example, was the belief of the\nDieri, the Buandik, the Kurnai, and the Kulin tribes.[180] The Buandik\nthought that everything in skyland was better than on earth; a fat\nkangaroo, for example, was compared to a kangaroo of heaven, where, of\ncourse, the animals might be expected to abound.[181] The Kulin imagined\nthat the spirits of the dead ascended to heaven by the bright rays of\nthe setting sun.[182] The Wailwun natives in New South Wales used to\nbury their dead in hollow trees, and when they dropped the body into its\nplace, the bearers and the bystanders joined in a loud whirring sound,\nlike the rush of the wind. They said that this represented the upward\nflight of the soul to the sky.[183]\n\n[Sidenote: Appearance of the dead to the living, especially in dreams.]\n\nWith regard to the ghosts on earth, some tribes of South-eastern\nAustralia believe that they can be seen by the living, can partake of\nfood, and can warm themselves at a fire. It is especially the graves,\nwhere their mouldering bodies are deposited, that these restless spirits\nare supposed to haunt; it is there that they shew themselves either to\npeople generally or to such as have the second sight.[184] But it is\nmost commonly in dreams that they appear to the living and hold\ncommunication with them. Often these communications are believed to be\nhelpful. Thus the tribes of the Wotjobaluk nation thought that the\nghosts of their dead relations could visit them in sleep to protect\nthem. A Mukjarawaint man told Dr. Howitt that his father came to him in\na dream and warned him to beware or he would be killed. This, the man\nbelieved, was the saving of his life; for he afterwards came to the\nplace which he had seen in his dream; whereupon, instead of going on, he\nturned back, so that his enemies, who might have been waiting for him\nthere, did not catch him.[185] Another man informed Dr. Howitt that his\ndead uncle appeared to him in sleep and taught him charms against\nsickness and other evils; and the Chepara tribe similarly believed that\nmale ancestors visited sleepers and imparted to them charms to avert\nevil magic.[186]\n\n[Sidenote: Savage faith in the truth of dreams. Association of the stars\nwith the souls of the dead.]\n\nSuch notions follow naturally from the savage theory of dreams. Almost\nall savages appear to believe firmly in the truth of dreams; they fail\nto draw the distinction, which to us seems obvious, between the\nimaginary creations of the mind in sleep and the waking realities of the\nphysical world. Whatever they dream of must, they think, be actually\nexisting; for have they not seen it with their own eyes? To argue that\nthe visions of sleep have no real existence is, therefore, in their\nopinion, to argue against the plain evidence of their senses; and they\nnaturally treat such exaggerated scepticism with incredulity and\ncontempt. Hence when they dream of their dead friends and relations they\nnecessarily conclude that these persons are still alive somewhere and\nsomehow, though they do not commonly appear by daylight to people in\ntheir waking hours. Unquestionably this savage faith in the reality of\ndreams has been one of the principal sources of the widespread, almost\nuniversal, belief in the survival of the human soul after death. It\nexplains why ghosts are supposed to appear rather by night than by day,\nsince it is chiefly by night that men sleep and dream dreams. Perhaps it\nmay also partly account for the association of the stars with the souls\nof the dead. For if the dead appear to the living mainly in the hours of\ndarkness, it seems not unnatural to imagine that the bright points of\nlight which then bespangle the canopy of heaven are either the souls of\nthe departed or fires kindled by them in their home aloft. For example,\nthe Central Australian aborigines commonly suppose the stars to be the\ncamp-fires of natives who live on the banks of the great river which we\ncivilised men, by a survival of primitive mythology, call the Milky Way.\nHowever, these rude savages, we are told, as a general rule \"appear to\npay very little attention to the stars in detail, probably because they\nenter very little into anything which is connected with their daily\nlife, and more especially with their food supply.\"[187] The same\nobservation which Messrs. Spencer and Gillen here make as to the natives\nof Central Australia might be applied to most savages who have remained\nin the purely hunting stage of social development. Such men are not much\naddicted to star-gazing, since the stars have little or nothing to tell\nthem that they wish to know. It is not till people have betaken\nthemselves to sowing and reaping crops that they begin to scan the\nheavens more carefully in order to determine the season of sowing by\nobservation of the great celestial time-keepers, the rising and setting\nof certain constellations, above all, apparently, of the Pleiades.[188]\nIn short, the rise of agriculture favours the rise of astronomy.\n\n[Sidenote: Creed of the South-eastern Australians touching the dead.]\n\nBut to return to the ideas of the Australian aborigines concerning the\ndead, we may say of the natives of the south-eastern part of the\ncontinent, in the words of Dr. Howitt, that \"there is a universal belief\nin the existence of the human spirit after death, as a ghost, which is\nable to communicate with the living when they sleep. It finds its way to\nthe sky-country, where it lives in a land like the earth, only more\nfertile, better watered, and plentifully supplied with game.\"[189] This\nbelief is very different from that of the Central Australian natives,\nwho think that the souls of the dead tarry on earth in their old\nfamiliar haunts until the time comes for them to be born again into the\nworld. Of the two different creeds that of the south-eastern tribes may\nbe regarded as the more advanced, since it admits that the dead do not\nreturn to life, and that their disembodied spirits do not haunt\nperpetually a multitude of spiritual parks or reservations dotted over\nthe face of the country.\n\n[Sidenote: The creed seems to form part of a general advance of culture\nin this part of the continent.]\n\nBut how are we to account for this marked difference of belief between\nthe natives of the Centre and the natives of the South-east? Perhaps the\nmost probable explanation is that the creed of the south-eastern tribes\nin this respect is part of a general advance of culture brought about by\nthe more favourable natural conditions under which they live as compared\nwith the forlorn state of the rude inhabitants of the Central deserts.\nThat advance of culture manifests itself in a variety of ways. On the\nmaterial side it is seen in more substantial and permanent dwellings and\nin warmer and better clothing. On the social side it is seen in an\nincipient tendency to the rise of a regular chieftainship, a thing which\nis quite unknown among the democratic or rather oligarchic savages of\nthe Centre, who are mainly governed by the old men in council.[190] But\nthe rise of chieftainship is a great step in political progress; since a\nmonarchical government of some sort appears to be essential to the\nemergence of mankind from savagery. On the whole, then, the beliefs of\nthe South-eastern Australian aborigines seem to mark a step on the\nupward road towards civilisation.\n\n[Sidenote: Possible influence of European teaching on native beliefs.]\n\nAt the same time we must not forget that these beliefs may have been\ninfluenced by the lessons which they have learned from white settlers\nwith whom in this part of Australia they have been so long in contact.\nThe possibility of such a transfusion of the new wine of Europe into the\nold bottles of Australia did not escape the experienced Mr. James\nDawson, an early settler in Victoria, who has given us a valuable\naccount of the natives of that region in the old days when they were\nstill comparatively little contaminated by intercourse with the whites.\nHe describes as follows the views which prevailed as to the dead among\nthe tribes of Western Victoria:--\"After the disposal of the body of a\ngood person, its shade walks about for three days; and although it\nappears to people, it holds no communication with them. Should it be\nseen and named by anyone during these three days, it instantly\ndisappears. At the expiry of three days it goes off to a beautiful\ncountry above the clouds, abounding with kangaroo and other game, where\nlife will be enjoyed for ever. Friends will meet and recognize each\nother there; but there will be no marrying, as the bodies have been left\non earth. Children under four or five years have no souls and no future\nlife. The shades of the wicked wander miserably about the earth for one\nyear after death, frightening people, and then descend to Ummekulleen,\nnever to return.\" After giving us this account of the native creed Mr.\nDawson adds very justly: \"Some of the ideas described above may possibly\nhave originated with the white man, and been transmitted from Sydney by\none tribe to another.\"[191] The probability of white influence on this\nparticular doctrine of religion is increased by the frank confession\nwhich these same natives made of the religious deterioration (as they\nregarded it) which they had suffered in another direction through the\nteaching of the missionaries. On this subject, to quote again from Mr.\nDawson, the savages are of opinion that \"the good spirit, Pirnmeheeal,\nis a gigantic man, living above the clouds; and as he is of a kindly\ndisposition, and harms no one, he is seldom mentioned, but always with\nrespect. His voice, the thunder, is listened to with pleasure, as it\ndoes good to man and beast, by bringing rain, and making grass and roots\ngrow for their benefit. But the aborigines say that the missionaries and\ngovernment protectors have given them a dread of Pirnmeheeal; and they\nare sorry that the young people, and many of the old, are now afraid of\na being who never did any harm to their forefathers.\"[192]\n\n[Sidenote: Vagueness and inconsistency of native beliefs as to the state\nof the dead. Custom or ritual as the interpreter of belief.]\n\nHowever, it is very difficult to ascertain the exact beliefs of savages\nas to the dead. The thought of the savage is apt to be vague and\ninconsistent; he neither represents his ideas clearly to his own mind\nnor can he express them lucidly to others, even if he wishes to do so.\nAnd his thought is not only vague and inconsistent; it is fluid and\nunstable, liable to shift and change under alien influence. For these\nand other reasons, such as the distrust of strangers and the difficulty\nof language, which often interposes a formidable barrier between savage\nman and the civilised enquirer, the domain of primitive beliefs is beset\nby so many snares and pitfalls that we might almost despair of arriving\nat the truth, were it not that we possess a clue to guide us on the dark\nand slippery way. That clue is action. While it is generally very\ndifficult to ascertain what any man thinks, it is comparatively easy to\nascertain what he does; and what a man does, not what he says, is the\nsurest touchstone to his real belief. Hence when we attempt to study the\nreligion of backward races, the ritual which they practise is generally\na safer indication of their actual creed than the loudest profession of\nfaith. In regard to the state of the human soul after death the beliefs\nof the Australian aborigines are clearly reflected in many of the\ncustoms which they observe at the death and burial of their friends and\nenemies, and it is accordingly with an account of some of these customs\nthat I propose to conclude this part of my subject.\n\n[Sidenote: Burial customs of the Australian aborigines as evidence of\ntheir beliefs concerning the state of the soul after death. Food placed\non the grave for the use of the ghost and fires kindled to warm him.]\n\nNow some of the burial customs observed by the Australian savages reveal\nin the clearest manner their belief that the human soul survives the\ndeath of the body, that in its disembodied state it retains\nconsciousness and feeling, and can do a mischief to the living; in\nshort, they shew that in the opinion of these people the departed live\nin the form of dangerous ghosts. Thus, for example, when the deceased is\na person of importance, the Dieri place food for many days on the grave,\nand in winter they kindle a fire in order that the ghost may warm\nhimself at it. If the food remains untouched on the grave, they think\nthat the dead is not hungry.[193] The Blanch-water section of that tribe\nfear the spirits of the dead and accordingly take steps to prevent their\nresurrection. For that purpose they tie the toes of the corpse together\nand the thumbs behind the back, which must obviously make it difficult\nfor the dead man to arise in his might and pursue them. Moreover, for a\nmonth after the death they sweep a clear space round the grave at dusk\nevery evening, and inspect it every morning. If they find any tracks on\nit, they assume that they have been made by the restless ghost in his\nnocturnal peregrinations, and accordingly they dig up his mouldering\nremains and bury them in some other place, where they hope he will sleep\nsounder.[194] The Kukata tribe think that the ghost may be thirsty, so\nthey obligingly leave a drinking vessel on the grave, that he may slake\nhis thirst. Also they deposit spears and other weapons on the spot,\ntogether with a digging-stick, which is specially intended to ward off\nevil spirits who may be on the prowl.[195] The ghosts of the natives on\nthe Maranoa river were also thirsty souls, so vessels full of water were\nsometimes suspended for their use over the grave.[196] A custom of\nlighting a fire on the grave to warm the poor shivering ghost seems to\nhave been not uncommon among the aboriginal Australians. The Western\nVictorians, for example, kept up large fires all night for this\npurpose.[197] In the Wiimbaio tribe two fires were kept burning for a\nwhole month on the grave, one to the right and the other to the left, in\norder that the ghost might come out and warm himself at them in the\nchill night air. If they found tracks near the grave, they inferred,\nlike the Dieri, that the perturbed spirit had quitted his narrow bed to\npace to and fro in the long hours of darkness; but if no footprints were\nvisible they thought that he slept in peace.[198] In some parts of\nWestern Australia the natives maintained fires on the grave for more\nthan a month for the convenience of the ghost; and they clearly expected\nhim to come to life again, for they detached the nails from the thumb\nand forefinger of the corpse and deposited them in a small hole beside\nthe grave, in order that they might know their friend at his\nresurrection.[199] The length of time during which fires were maintained\nor kindled daily on the grave is said to have varied, according to the\nestimation in which the man was held, from a few days to three or four\nyears.[200] We have seen that the Dieri laid food on the grave for the\nhungry ghost to partake of, and the same custom was observed by the\nGournditch-mara tribe.[201] However, some intelligent old aborigines of\nWestern Victoria derided the custom as \"white fellow's gammon.\"[202]\n\n[Sidenote: Property of the dead buried with them.]\n\nFurther, in some tribes of South-eastern Australia it was customary to\ndeposit the scanty property of the deceased, usually consisting of a few\nrude weapons or implements, on the grave or to bury it with him. Thus\nthe natives of Western Victoria buried all a dead man's ornaments,\nweapons, and property with him in the grave, only reserving his stone\naxes, which were too valuable to be thus sacrificed: these were\ninherited by the next of kin.[203] The Wurunjerri also interred the\npersonal property of the dead with him; if the deceased was a man, his\nspear-thrower was stuck in the ground at the head of the grave; if the\ndeceased was a woman, the same thing was done with her digging-stick.\nThat these implements were intended for the use of the ghost and not\nmerely as headstones to mark the situation of the tomb and the sex of\nthe departed, is clear from a significant exception to the custom. When\nthe departed brother was a man of violent temper, who had been\nquarrelsome and a brawler in his life, no weapons were buried with him,\nobviously lest in a fit of ill-temper he should sally from the grave and\nassault people with them.[204] Similarly the Turrbal tribe, who\ndeposited their dead in the forks of trees, used to leave a spear and\nclub near the corpse \"that the spirit of the dead might have weapons\nwherewith to kill game for his sustenance in the future state. A\nyam-stick was placed in the ground at a woman's grave, so that she might\ngo away at night and seek for roots.\"[205] The Wolgal tribe were very\nparticular about burying everything that belonged to a dead man with\nhim; spears and nets, though valuable articles of property, were thus\nsacrificed; even a canoe has been known to be cut up in order that the\npieces of it might be deposited in the grave. In fact \"everything\nbelonging to a dead man was put out of sight.\"[206] Similarly in the\nGeawe-gal tribe all the implements and inanimate property of a warrior\nwere interred with him.[207] In the Gringai country not only was all a\nman's property buried with him, but every native present at the burial\ncontributed something, and these contributions were piled together at\nthe head of the corpse before the grave was filled in.[208] Among the\ntribes of Southern Victoria, when the grave has been dug and lined with\nfresh leaves and twigs so as to make a soft bed, the dead man's property\nis brought in two bags, and the sorcerer shakes out the contents. They\nconsist of such small articles as pieces of hard stone suitable for\ncutting or paring skins, bones for boring holes, twine made of opossum\nwool, and so forth. These are placed in the grave, and the bags and rugs\nof the deceased are torn up and thrown in likewise. Then the sorcerer\nasks whether the dead man had any other property, and if he had, it is\nbrought forward and laid beside the torn fragments of the bags and rugs.\nEverything that a man owned in life must be laid beside him in\ndeath.[209] Again, among the tribes of the Lower Murray, Lachlan, and\nDarling rivers in New South Wales, all a dead man's property, including\nhis weapons and nets, was buried with his body in the grave.[210]\nFurther, we are told that among the natives of Western Australia the\nweapons and personal property of the deceased are placed on the grave,\n\"so that when he rises from the dead they may be ready to his\nhand.\"[211] In the Boulia district of Queensland the things which\nbelonged to a dead man, such as his boomerangs and spears, are either\nburied with him, destroyed by fire, or sometimes, though rarely,\ndistributed among his tribal brothers, but never among his\nchildren.[212]\n\n[Sidenote: Intention of destroying the property of the dead. The\nproperty of the dead not destroyed in Central Australia.]\n\nThus among certain tribes of Australia, especially in the south-eastern\npart of the continent, it appears that the custom of burying or\ndestroying a dead man's property has been very common. That the\nintention of the custom in some cases is to supply the supposed needs of\nthe ghost, seems to be fairly certain; but we may doubt whether this\nexplanation would apply to the practice of burning or otherwise\ndestroying the things which had belonged to the deceased. More probably\nsuch destruction springs from an overpowering dread of the ghost and a\nwish to sever all connexion with him, so that he may have no excuse for\nreturning and haunting the survivors, as he might do if his property\nwere either kept by them or deposited in the grave. Whatever the motive\nfor the burial or destruction of a dead man's property may be, the\ncustom appears not to prevail among the tribes of Central Australia. In\nthe eastern Arunta tribe, indeed, it is said that sometimes a little\nwooden vessel used in camp for holding small objects may be buried with\nthe man, but this is the only instance which Messrs. Spencer and Gillen\ncould hear of in which any article of ordinary use is buried in the\ngrave. Far from wasting property in that way, these economical savages\npreserve even a man's personal ornaments, such as his necklaces,\narmlets, and the fur string which he wore round his head; indeed, as we\nhave seen, they go so far as to cut off the hair from the head of the\ndeceased and to keep it for magical uses.[213] In the Warramunga tribe\nall the belongings of a dead man go to the tribal brothers of his\nmother.[214]\n\n[Sidenote: Property of the dead hung up on trees, then washed and\ndistributed. Economic loss entailed by sacrifices to the dead.]\n\nThe difference in this respect between the practice of the Central\ntribes and that of the tribes nearer the sea, especially in Victoria and\nNew South Wales, is very notable. A custom intermediate between the two\nis observed by some tribes of the Darling River, who hang up the\nweapons, nets, and other property of the deceased on trees for about two\nmonths, then wash them, and distribute them among the relations.[215]\nThe reason for hanging the things up and washing them is no doubt to rid\nthem of the infection of death in order that they may be used with\nsafety by the survivors. Such a custom points clearly to a growing fear\nof the dead; and that fear or reverence comes out still more clearly in\nthe practice of either burying the property of the dead with them or\ndestroying it altogether, which is observed by the aborigines of\nVictoria and other parts of Australia who live under more favourable\nconditions of life than the inhabitants of the Central deserts. This\nconfirms the conclusion which we have reached on other grounds, that\namong the aboriginal population of Australia favourable natural\nconditions in respect of climate, food, and water have exercised a most\nimportant influence in stimulating social progress in many directions,\nand not least in the direction of religion. At the same time, while we\nrecognise that the incipient tendency to a worship of the dead which may\nbe detected in these regions marks a step forward in religious\ndevelopment, we must acknowledge that the practice of burying or\ndestroying the property of the dead, which is one of the ways in which\nthe tendency manifests itself, is, regarded from the side of economic\nprogress, a decided step backward. It marks, in fact, the beginning of a\nmelancholy aberration of the human mind, which has led mankind to\nsacrifice the real interests of the living to the imaginary interests of\nthe dead. With the general advance of society and the accompanying\naccumulation of property these sacrifices have at certain stages of\nevolution become heavier and heavier, as the demands of the ghosts\nbecame more and more exacting. The economic waste which the belief in\nthe immortality of the soul has entailed on the world is incalculable.\nWhen we contemplate that waste in its small beginnings among the rude\nsavages of Australia it appears insignificant enough; the world is not\nmuch the poorer for the loss of a parcel of boomerangs, spears, fur\nstring, and skin rugs. But when we pass from the custom in this its\nfeeble source and follow it as it swells in volume through the nations\nof the world till it attains the dimensions of a mighty river of wasted\nlabour, squandered treasure, and spilt blood, we cannot but wonder at\nthe strange mixture of good and evil in the affairs of mankind, seeing\nin what we justly call progress so much hardly earned gain side by side\nwith so much gratuitous loss, such immense additions to the substantial\nvalue of life to be set off against such enormous sacrifices to the\nshadow of a shade.\n\n[Footnote 160: W. E. Roth, _North Queensland Ethnography, Bulletin No.\n5, Superstition, Magic, and Medicine_ (Brisbane, 1903), pp. 18, 23,\nSecs. 68, 83.]\n\n[Footnote 161: Homer, _Odyssey_, xix. 163.]\n\n[Footnote 162: W. E. Roth, _ll. cc._]\n\n[Footnote 163: W. E. Roth, _North Queensland Ethnography, Bulletin No.\n5_ (Brisbane, 1903), p. 29. Sec. 116.]\n\n[Footnote 164: W. E. Roth. _op. cit._ p. 18, Sec. 68.]\n\n[Footnote 165: W. E. Roth, _op. cit._ pp. 17, 29, Secs. 65, 116.]\n\n[Footnote 166: W. E. Roth, _op. cit._ p. 17, Sec. 65.]\n\n[Footnote 167: J. Dawson, _Australian Aborigines_ (Melbourne, Sydney,\nand Adelaide, 1881), pp. 110 _sq._; A. W. Howitt, _Native Tribes of\nSouth-East Australia_ (London, 1904), p. 442.]\n\n[Footnote 168: A. W. Howitt, _op. cit._ p. 445.]\n\n[Footnote 169: (Sir) George Grey, _Journals of Two Expeditions of\nDiscovery in North-West and Western Australia_ (London, 1841), i.\n301-303.]\n\n[Footnote 170: Lieutenant-Colonel David Collins, _An Account of the\nEnglish Colony in New South Wales_, Second Edition (London, 1804), p.\n354.]\n\n[Footnote 171: Rev. G. Taplin, \"The Narrinyeri,\" in _Native Tribes of\nSouth Australia_ (Adelaide, 1879), pp. 18 _sq._]\n\n[Footnote 172: Rev. G. Taplin, \"The Narrinyeri,\" _op. cit._ pp. 20\n_sq._]\n\n[Footnote 173: Rev. G. Taplin, _op. cit._ p. 20.]\n\n[Footnote 174: Rev. G. Taplin, _op. cit._ pp. 19 _sq._, 21.]\n\n[Footnote 175: Rev. G. Taplin, _op. cit._ p. 21.]\n\n[Footnote 176: See below, pp. 235 _sqq._, 327 _sq._]\n\n[Footnote 177: Rev. G. Taplin, _op. cit._ p. 21.]\n\n[Footnote 178: Spencer and Gillen, _Native Tribes of Central Australia_,\npp. 538 _sq._]\n\n[Footnote 179: Spencer and Gillen, _Northern Tribes of Central\nAustralia_, pp. 544 _sq._]\n\n[Footnote 180: A. W. Howitt, _Native Tribes of South-East Australia_,\npp. 434, 436, 437, 438. Compare E. J. Eyre, _Journals of Expeditions of\nDiscovery into Central Australia_ (London, 1845), ii. 357.]\n\n[Footnote 181: A. W. Howitt, _op. cit._ p. 434.]\n\n[Footnote 182: A. W. Howitt, _op. cit._ p. 438.]\n\n[Footnote 183: Rev. W. Ridley, _Kamilaroi_ (Sydney, 1875), p. 160.]\n\n[Footnote 184: A. W. Howitt, _Native Tribes of South-East Australia_,\npp. 434, 438, 439; J. Dawson, _Australian Aborigines_, p. 50.]\n\n[Footnote 185: A. W. Howitt, _op. cit._ p. 435.]\n\n[Footnote 186: A. W. Howitt, _op. cit._ p. 437.]\n\n[Footnote 187: Spencer and Gillen, _Northern Tribes of Central\nAustralia_, p. 628.]\n\n[Footnote 188: As to the place occupied by the Pleiades in primitive\ncalendars, see _Spirits of the Corn and of the Wild_, i. 309-319.]\n\n[Footnote 189: A. W. Howitt, _Native Tribes of South-East Australia_,\npp. 439 _sq._]\n\n[Footnote 190: See _Totemism and Exogamy_, i. 314 _sqq._]\n\n[Footnote 191: J. Dawson, _Australian Aborigines_, p. 51. A man of the\nTa-ta-thi tribe in New South Wales informed Mr. A. L. P. Cameron that\nthe natives believed in a pit of fire where bad men were roasted after\ndeath. This reported belief, resting apparently on the testimony of a\nsingle informant, may without doubt be ascribed to the influence of\nChristian teaching. See A. L. P. Cameron, \"Notes on some Tribes of New\nSouth Wales,\" _Journal of the Anthropological Institute_, xiv. (1885)\npp. 364 _sq._]\n\n[Footnote 192: J. Dawson, _Australian Aborigines_, p. 49.]\n\n[Footnote 193: A. W. Howitt, _Native Tribes of South-East Australia_, p.\n448.]\n\n[Footnote 194: A. W. Howitt, _op. cit._. p. 449. Compare E. M. Curr,\n_The Australian Race_, i. 87: \"The object sought in tying up the remains\nof the dead is to prevent the deceased from escaping from the tomb and\nfrightening or injuring the survivors.\"]\n\n[Footnote 195: A. W. Howitt, _op. cit._ p. 451.]\n\n[Footnote 196: A. W. Howitt, _op. cit._ p. 467.]\n\n[Footnote 197: J. Dawson, _Australian Aborigines_, p. 50.]\n\n[Footnote 198: A. W. Howitt, _Native Tribes of South-East Australia_, p.\n452.]\n\n[Footnote 199: R. Salvado, _Memoires historiques sur l' Australie_\n(Paris, 1854), p. 261; _Missions Catholiques_, x. (1878) p. 247. For\nmore evidence as to the lighting of fires for this purpose see A. W.\nHowitt, _op. cit._ pp. 455, 470.]\n\n[Footnote 200: A. Oldfield, \"The Aborigines of Australia,\" _Transactions\nof the Ethnological Society of London_, New Series, iii. (1865) p. 245.]\n\n[Footnote 201: A. W. Howitt, _op. cit._ p. 455.]\n\n[Footnote 202: J. Dawson, _Australian Aborigines_, pp. 50 _sq._]\n\n[Footnote 203: J. Dawson, _op. cit._ p. 63.]\n\n[Footnote 204: A. W. Howitt, _Native Tribes of South-East Australia_, p.\n458.]\n\n[Footnote 205: A. W. Howitt, _op. cit._ p. 470.]\n\n[Footnote 206: A. W. Howitt, _op. cit._ pp. 461 _sq._]\n\n[Footnote 207: A. W. Howitt, _op. cit._ p. 464.]\n\n[Footnote 208: A. W. Howitt, _op. cit._ p. 464.]\n\n[Footnote 209: R. Brough Smyth, _The Aborigines of Victoria_, i. 104.]\n\n[Footnote 210: P. Beveridge, \"Of the Aborigines Inhabiting the Great\nLacustrine and Riverine Depression of the Lower Murray, Lower\nMurrumbidgee, Lower Lachlan, and Lower Darling,\" _Journal and\nProceedings of the Royal Society of New South Wales_, xvii. (1883) p.\n29.]\n\n[Footnote 211: A. Oldfield, \"The Aborigines of Australia,\" _Transactions\nof the Ethnological Society of London_, New Series, iii. (1865) p. 245.]\n\n[Footnote 212: W. E. Roth, _Ethnological Studies among the\nNorth-West-Central Queensland Aborigines_ (Brisbane and London, 1897),\np. 164.]\n\n[Footnote 213: Spencer and Gillen, _Native Tribes of Central Australia_,\npp. 466, 497 _sq._, 538 _sq._ See above, p. 138.]\n\n[Footnote 214: Spencer and Gillen, _Northern Tribes of Central\nAustralia_, p. 524.]\n\n[Footnote 215: F. Bonney, \"On some Customs of the Aborigines of the\nRiver Darling, New South Wales,\" _Journal of the Anthropological\nInstitute_, xiii. (1884) p. 135.]\n\n\n\n\nLECTURE VII\n\nTHE BELIEF IN IMMORTALITY AMONG THE ABORIGINES OF AUSTRALIA\n(_concluded_)\n\n\n[Sidenote: Attention to the comfort of the dead. Huts erected on graves\nfor the use of the ghosts.]\n\nIn the last lecture I shewed that in the maritime regions of Australia,\nwhere the conditions of life are more favourable than in the Central\ndeserts, we may detect the germs of a worship of the dead in certain\nattentions which the living pay to the spirits of the departed, for\nexample by kindling fires on the grave for the ghost to warm himself at,\nby leaving food and water for him to eat and drink, and by depositing\nhis weapons and other property in the tomb for his use in the life after\ndeath. Another mark of respect shewn to the dead is the custom of\nerecting a hut on the grave for the accommodation of the ghost. Thus\namong the tribes of South Australia we are told that \"upon the mounds,\nor tumuli, over the graves, huts of bark, or boughs, are generally\nerected to shelter the dead from the rain; they are also frequently\nwound round with netting.\"[216] Again, in Western Australia a small hut\nof rushes, grass, and so forth is said to have been set up by the\nnatives over the grave.[217] Among the tribes of the Lower Murray, Lower\nLachlan, and Lower Darling rivers, when a person died who had been\nhighly esteemed in life, a neat hut was erected over his grave so as to\ncover it entirely. The hut was of oval shape, about five feet high, and\nroofed with thatch, which was firmly tied to the framework by cord many\nhundreds of yards in length. Sometimes the whole hut was enveloped in a\nnet. At the eastern end of the hut a small opening was left just large\nenough to allow a full-grown man to creep in, and the floor was covered\nwith grass, which was renewed from time to time as it became withered.\nEach of these graves was enclosed by a fence of brushwood forming a\ndiamond-shaped enclosure, within which the tomb stood exactly in the\nmiddle. All the grass within the fence was neatly shaved off and the\nground swept quite clean. Sepulchres of this sort were kept up for two\nor three years, after which they were allowed to fall into disrepair,\nand when a few more years had gone by the very sites of them were\nforgotten.[218] The intention of erecting huts on graves is not\nmentioned in these cases, but on analogy we may conjecture that they are\nintended for the convenience and comfort of the ghost. This is confirmed\nby an account given of a native burial on the Vasse River in Western\nAustralia. We are told that when the grave had been filled in, the\nnatives piled logs on it to a considerable height and then constructed a\nhut upon the logs, after which one of the male relations went into the\nhut and said, \"I sit in his house.\"[219] Thus it would seem that the hut\non the grave is regarded as the house of the dead man. If only these\nsepulchral huts were kept up permanently, they might develop into\nsomething like temples, in which the spirits of the departed might be\ninvoked and propitiated with prayer and sacrifice. It is thus that the\ngreat round huts, in which the remains of dead kings of Uganda are\ndeposited, have grown into sanctuaries or shrines, where the spirits of\nthe deceased monarchs are consulted as oracles through the medium of\npriests.[220] But in Australia this development is prevented by the\nsimple forgetfulness of the savages. A few years suffice with them to\nwipe out the memory of the deceased and with it his chance of developing\ninto an ancestral deity. Like most savages, the Australian aborigines\nseem to fear only the ghosts of the recently departed; one writer tells\nus that they have no fear of the ghost of a man who has been dead say\nforty years.[221]\n\n[Sidenote: Fear of the dead and precautions taken by the living against\nthem.]\n\nThe burial customs of the Australian aborigines which I have described\nbetray not only a belief in the existence of the ghost, but also a\ncertain regard for his comfort and convenience. However, we may suspect\nthat in most, if not in all, cases the predominant motive of these\nattentions is fear rather than affection. The survivors imagine that any\nwant of respect for the dead, any neglect of his personal comforts in\nthe grave, would excite his resentment and draw down on them his\nvengeance. That these savages are really actuated by fear of the dead is\nexpressly affirmed of some tribes. Thus we are told that the Yuin \"were\nalways afraid that the dead man might come out of the grave and follow\nthem.\"[222] After burying a body the Ngarigo were wont to cross a river\nin order to prevent the ghost from pursuing them;[223] obviously they\nshared the common opinion that ghosts for some reason are unable to\ncross water. The Wakelbura took other measures to throw the poor ghost\noff the scent. They marked all the trees in a circle round the place\nwhere the dead man was buried; so that when he emerged from the grave\nand set off in pursuit of his retiring relations, he would follow the\nmarks on the trees in a circle and always come back to the point from\nwhich he had started. And to make assurance doubly sure they put coals\nin the dead man's ears, which, by bunging up these apertures, were\nsupposed to keep his ghost in the body till his friends had got a good\nstart away from him. As a further precaution they lit fires and put\nbushes in the forks of trees, with the idea that the ghost would roost\nin the bushes and warm himself at the fires, while they were hastening\naway.[224] Here, therefore, we see that the real motive for kindling\nfires for the use of the dead is fear, not affection. In this respect\nthe burial customs of the tribes at the Herbert River are still more\nsignificant. These savages buried with the dead man his weapons, his\nornaments, and indeed everything he had used in life; moreover, they\nbuilt a hut on the grave, put a drinking-vessel in the hut, and cleared\na path from it down to the water for the use of the ghost; and often\nthey placed food and water on the grave. So far, these measures might be\ninterpreted as marks of pure and disinterested affection for the soul of\nthe departed. But such an interpretation is totally excluded by the\nferocious treatment which these savages meted out to the corpse. To\nfrighten the spirit, lest he should haunt the camp, the father or\nbrother of the deceased, or the husband, if it was a woman, took a club\nand mauled the body with such violence that he often smashed the bones;\nfurther, he generally broke both its legs in order to prevent it from\nwandering of nights; and as if that were not enough, he bored holes in\nthe stomach, the shoulders, and the lungs, and filled the holes with\nstones, so that even if the poor ghost should succeed by a desperate\neffort in dragging his mangled body out of the grave, he would be so\nweighed down by this ballast of stones that he could not get very far.\nHowever, after roaming up and down in this pitiable condition for a time\nin their old haunts, the spirits were supposed at last to go up aloft to\nthe Milky Way.[225] The Kwearriburra tribe, on the Lynd River, in\nQueensland, also took forcible measures to prevent the resurrection of\nthe dead. Whenever a person died, they cut off his or her head, roasted\nit in a fire on the grave, and when it was thoroughly charred they\nsmashed it in bits and left the fragments among the hot coals. They\ncalculated that when the ghost rose from the grave with the view of\nfollowing the tribe, he would miss his head and go groping blindly about\nfor it till he scorched himself in the embers of the fire and was glad\nto shrink back into his narrow bed.[226]\n\nThus even among those Australian tribes which have progressed furthest\nin the direction of religion, such approaches as they have made towards\na worship of the dead appear to be determined far more by fear than by\naffection and reverence. And we are told that it is the nearest\nrelations and the most influential men whose ghosts are most\ndreaded.[227]\n\n[Sidenote: Cuttings and brandings of the flesh of the living in honour\nof the dead.]\n\nThere is another custom observed by the Australian aborigines in\nmourning which deserves to be mentioned. We all know that the Israelites\nwere forbidden to make cuttings in their flesh for the dead.[228] The\ncustom was probably practised by the heathen Canaanites, as it has been\nby savages in various parts of the world. Nowhere, perhaps, has the\npractice prevailed more generally or been carried out with greater\nseverity than in aboriginal Australia. For example, with regard to the\ntribes in the central part of Victoria we are told that \"the parents of\nthe deceased lacerate themselves fearfully, especially if it be an only\nson whose loss they deplore. The father beats and cuts his head with a\ntomahawk until he utters bitter groans. The mother sits by the fire and\nburns her breasts and abdomen with a small fire-stick till she wails\nwith pain; then she replaces the stick in the fire, to use again when\nthe pain is less severe. This continues for hours daily, until the time\nof lamentation is completed; sometimes the burns thus inflicted are so\nsevere as to cause death.\"[229] It is especially the women, and above\nall the widows, who torture themselves in this way. Speaking of the\ntribes of Victoria, a writer tells us that on the death of her husband a\nwidow, \"becoming frantic, seizes fire-sticks and burns her breasts,\narms, legs, and thighs. Rushing from one place to another, and intent\nonly on injuring herself, and seeming to delight in the self-inflicted\ntorture, it would be rash and vain to interrupt her. She would fiercely\nturn on her nearest relative or friend and burn him with her brands.\nWhen exhausted, and when she can scarcely walk, she yet endeavours to\nkick the embers of the fire, and to throw them about. Sitting down, she\ntakes the ashes in her hands, rubs them into her wounds, and then\nscratches her face (the only part not touched by the fire-sticks) until\nthe blood mingles with the ashes which partly hide her cruel\nwounds.\"[230] Among the Kurnai of South-eastern Victoria the relations\nof the dead would cut and gash themselves with sharp stones and\ntomahawks until their heads and bodies streamed with blood.[231] In the\nMukjarawaint tribe, when a man died, his kinsfolk wept over him and\nslashed themselves with tomahawks and other sharp instruments for about\na week.[232] In the tribes of the Lower Murray and Lower Darling rivers\nmourners scored their backs and arms, sometimes even their faces, with\nred-hot brands, which raised hideous ulcers; afterwards they flung\nthemselves prone on the grave, tore out their hair by handfuls, rubbed\nearth over their heads and bodies in great profusion, and ripped up\ntheir green ulcers till the mingled blood and grime presented a ghastly\nspectacle. These self-inflicted sores remained long unhealed.[233] Among\nthe Kamilaroi, a large tribe of eastern New South Wales, the mourners,\nand especially the women, used to cut their heads with tomahawks and\nallow the blood to dry on them.[234] Speaking of a native burial on the\nMurray River, a writer says that \"around the bier were many women,\nrelations of the deceased, wailing and lamenting bitterly, and\nlacerating their thighs, backs, and breasts, with shells or flint, until\nthe blood flowed copiously from the gashes.\"[235] In the Boulia district\nof Queensland women in mourning score their thighs, both inside and\noutside, with sharp stones or bits of glass, so as to make a series of\nparallel cuts; in neighbouring districts of Queensland the men make much\ndeeper cross-shaped cuts on their thighs.[236] In the Arunta tribe of\nCentral Australia a man is bound to cut himself on the shoulder in\nmourning for his father-in-law; if he does not do so, his wife may be\ngiven away to another man in order to appease the wrath of the ghost at\nhis undutiful son-in-law. Arunta men regularly bear on their shoulders\nthe raised scars which shew that they have done their duty by their dead\nfathers-in-law.[237] The female relations of a dead man in the Arunta\ntribe also cut and hack themselves in token of sorrow, working\nthemselves up into a sort of frenzy as they do so; yet in all their\napparent excitement they take care never to wound a vital part, but vent\ntheir fury on their scalps, their shoulders, and their legs.[238]\n\n[Sidenote: Cuttings for the dead among the Warramunga.]\n\nIn the Warramunga tribe of Central Australia Messrs. Spencer and Gillen\nwitnessed the mourning for a dead man. Even before the sufferer had\nbreathed his last the lamentations and self-inflicted wounds began. When\nit was known that the end was near, all the native men ran at full speed\nto the spot, and Messrs. Spencer and Gillen followed them to see what\nwas to be seen. What they saw, or part of what they saw, was this. Some\nof the women, who had gathered from all directions, were lying prostrate\non the body of the dying man, while others were standing or kneeling\naround, digging the sharp ends of yam-sticks into the crown of their\nheads, from which the blood streamed down over their faces, while all\nthe time they kept up a loud continuous wail. Many of the men, rushing\nup to the scene of action, flung themselves also higgledy-piggledy on\nthe sufferer, the women rising and making way for them, till nothing was\nto be seen but a struggling mass of naked bodies all mixed up together.\nPresently up came a man yelling and brandishing a stone knife. On\nreaching the spot he suddenly gashed both his thighs with the knife,\ncutting right across the muscles, so that, unable to stand, he dropped\ndown on the top of the struggling bodies, till his mother, wife, and\nsisters dragged him out of the scrimmage, and immediately applied their\nmouths to his gaping wounds, while he lay exhausted and helpless on the\nground. Gradually the struggling mass of dusky bodies untwined itself,\ndisclosing the unfortunate sick man, who was the object, or rather the\nvictim, of this well-meant demonstration of affection and sorrow. If he\nhad been ill before, he was much worse when his friends left him: indeed\nit was plain that he had not long to live. Still the weeping and wailing\nwent on; the sun set, darkness fell on the camp, and later in the\nevening the man died. Then the wailing rose louder than before, and men\nand women, apparently frantic with grief, rushed about cutting\nthemselves with knives and sharp-pointed sticks, while the women\nbattered each other's heads with clubs, no one attempting to ward off\neither cuts or blows. An hour later a funeral procession set out by\ntorchlight through the darkness, carrying the body to a wood about a\nmile off, where it was laid on a platform of boughs in a low gum-tree.\nWhen day broke next morning, not a sign of human habitation was to be\nseen in the camp where the man had died. All the people had removed\ntheir rude huts to some distance, leaving the place of death solitary;\nfor nobody wished to meet the ghost of the deceased, who would certainly\nbe hovering about, along with the spirit of the living man who had\ncaused his death by evil magic, and who might be expected to come to the\nspot in the outward form of an animal to gloat over the scene of his\ncrime. But in the new camp the ground was strewed with men lying\nprostrate, their thighs gashed with the wounds which they had inflicted\non themselves with their own hands. They had done their duty by the dead\nand would bear to the end of their life the deep scars on their thighs\nas badges of honour. On one man Messrs. Spencer and Gillen counted the\ndints of no less than twenty-three wounds which he had inflicted on\nhimself at various times. Meantime the women had resumed the duty of\nlamentation. Forty or fifty of them sat down in groups of five or six,\nweeping and wailing frantically with their arms round each other, while\nthe actual and tribal wives, mothers, wives' mothers, daughters,\nsisters, mothers' mothers, sisters' husbands' mothers, and\ngrand-daughters, according to custom, once more cut their scalps open\nwith yam-sticks, and the widows afterwards in addition seared the scalp\nwounds with red-hot fire-sticks.\n\n[Sidenote: Cuttings for the dead strictly regulated by custom.]\n\nIn these mourning customs, wild and extravagant as the expression of\nsorrow appears to be, everything is regulated by certain definite rules;\nand a woman who did not thus maul herself when she ought to do so would\nbe severely punished, or even killed, by her brother. Similarly with the\nmen, it is only those who stand in certain relationships to the deceased\nwho must cut and hack themselves in his honour, and these relationships\nare determined by the particular exogamous class to which the dead man\nhappened to belong. Of such classes there are eight in the Warramunga\ntribe. On the occasion described by Messrs. Spencer and Gillen it was a\nman of the Tjunguri class who died; and the men who gashed their thighs\nstood to him in one or other of the following relationships: grandfather\non the mother's side, mother's brother, brother of the dead man's wife,\nand her mother's brother.[239]\n\n[Sidenote: The cuttings and brandings which mourners inflict on\nthemselves may be intended to convince the ghost of the sincerity of\ntheir sorrow.]\n\nWe naturally ask, What motive have these savages for inflicting all this\nvoluntary and, as it seems to us, wholly superfluous suffering on\nthemselves? It can hardly be that these wounds and burns are merely a\nnatural and unfeigned expression of grief. We have seen that by\nexperienced observers such extravagant demonstrations of sorrow are set\ndown rather to fear than to affection. Similarly Messrs. Spencer and\nGillen suggest that at least one motive is a fear entertained by the\nnative lest, if he does not make a sufficient display of grief, the\nghost of the dead man will be offended and do him a mischief.[240] In\nthe Kaitish tribe of Central Australia it is believed that if a woman\ndoes not keep her body covered with ashes from the camp fire during the\nwhole time of mourning, the spirit of her deceased husband, who\nconstantly follows her about, will kill her and strip all the flesh from\nher bones.[241] Again, in the Arunta tribe mourners smear themselves\nwith white pipeclay, and the motive for this custom is said to be to\nrender themselves more conspicuous, so that the ghost may see and be\nsatisfied that he is being properly mourned for.[242] Thus the fear of\nthe ghost, who, at least among the Australian aborigines, is commonly of\na jealous temper and stands very firmly on his supposed rights, may\nsuffice to explain the practice of self-mutilation at mourning.\n\n[Sidenote: Custom of allowing the blood of mourners to drip on the\ncorpse or into the grave.]\n\nBut it is possible that another motive underlies the drawing of blood on\nthese occasions. For it is to be observed that the blood of the mourners\nis often allowed to drop directly either on the dead body or into the\ngrave. Thus, for example, among the tribes on the River Darling several\nmen used to stand by the open grave and cut each other's heads with a\nboomerang; then they held their bleeding heads over the grave so that\nthe blood dripped on the corpse lying in it. If the deceased was highly\nesteemed, the bleeding was repeated after some earth had been thrown on\nthe body.[243] Among the Arunta it is customary for the women kinsfolk\nof the dead to cut their own and each other's heads so severely with\nclubs and digging-sticks that blood streams from them on the grave.[244]\nAgain, at a burial on the Vasse River, in Western Australia, a writer\ndescribes how, when the grave was dug, the natives placed the corpse\nbeside it, then \"gashed their thighs, and at the flowing of the blood\nthey all said, 'I have brought blood,' and they stamped the foot\nforcibly on the ground, sprinkling the blood around them; then wiping\nthe wounds with a wisp of leaves, they threw it, bloody as it was, on\nthe dead man.\"[245] With these Australian practices we may compare a\ncustom observed by the civilised Greeks of antiquity. Every year the\nPeloponnesian lads lashed themselves on the grave of Pelops at Olympia,\ntill the blood ran down their backs as a libation in honour of the dead\nman.[246]\n\n[Sidenote: The blood intended to strengthen the dead.]\n\nNow what is the intention of thus applying the blood of the living to\nthe dead or pouring it into the grave? So far as the ancient Greeks are\nconcerned the answer is not doubtful. We know from Homer that the ghosts\nof the dead were supposed to drink the blood that was offered to them\nand to be strengthened by the draught.[247] Similarly with the\nAustralian savages, their object can hardly be any other than that of\nstrengthening the spirit of the dead; for these aborigines are in the\nhabit of giving human blood to the sick and the aged to drink for the\npurpose of restoring them to health and strength;[248] hence it would be\nnatural for them to imagine that they could refresh and fortify the\nfeeble ghost in like manner. Perhaps the blood was intended specially to\nstrengthen the spirits of the dead for the new birth or reincarnation,\nto which so many of these savages look forward.\n\n[Sidenote: Custom of burying people in the place where they were born.\nThe custom perhaps intended to facilitate the rebirth of the soul.]\n\nThe same motive may possibly explain the custom observed by some\nAustralian tribes of burying people, as far as possible, at the place\nwhere they were born. Thus in regard to the tribes of Western Victoria\nwe are informed that \"dying persons, especially those dying from old\nage, generally express an earnest desire to be taken to their\nbirthplace, that they may die and be buried there. If possible, these\nwishes are always complied with by the relatives and friends. Parents\nwill point out the spot where they were born, so that when they become\nold and infirm, their children may know where they wish their bodies to\nbe disposed of.\"[249] Again, some tribes in the north and north-east of\nVictoria \"are said to be more than ordinarily scrupulous in interring\nthe dead. If practicable, they will bury the corpse near the spot where,\nas a child, it first drew breath. A mother will carry a dead infant for\nweeks, in the hope of being able to bury it near the place where it was\nborn; and a dead man will be conveyed a long distance, in order that the\nlast rites may be performed in a manner satisfactory to the tribe.\"[250]\nAnother writer, speaking of the Australian aborigines in general, says:\n\"By what I could learn, it is considered proper by many tribes that a\nblack should be buried at or near the spot where he or she was born, and\nfor this reason, when a black becomes seriously ill, the invalid is\ncarried a long distance to these certain spots to die, as in this case.\nThey apparently object to place a body in strange ground.\" The same\nwriter mentions the case of a blackfellow, who began digging a grave\nclose beside the kitchen door of a Mr. Campbell. When Mr. Campbell\nremonstrated with him, the native replied that he had no choice, for the\ndead man had been born on that very spot. With much difficulty Mr.\nCampbell persuaded him to bury his deceased friend a little further off\nfrom the kitchen door.[251] A practice of this sort would be\nintelligible on the theory of the Central Australians, who imagine that\nthe spirits of all the dead return to the very spots where they entered\ninto their mothers' wombs, and that they wait there until another\nopportunity presents itself to them of being born again into the world.\nFor if people really believe, as do many Australian tribes, that when\nthey die they will afterwards come to life again as infants, it is\nperfectly natural that they should take steps to ensure and facilitate\nthe new birth. The Unmatjera and Kaitish tribes of Central Australia do\nthis in the case of dead children. These savages draw a sharp\ndistinction between young children and very old men and women. When very\nold people die, their bodies are at once buried in the ground, but the\nbodies of children are placed in wooden troughs and deposited on\nplatforms of boughs in the branches of trees, and the motive for\ntreating a dead child thus is, we are informed, the hope \"that before\nvery long its spirit may come back again and enter into the body of a\nwoman--in all probability that of its former mother.\"[252] The reason\nfor drawing this distinction between the young and the old by disposing\nof their bodies in different fashions, is explained with great\nprobability by Messrs. Spencer and Gillen as follows: \"In the Unmatjera\nand Kaitish tribes, while every old man has certain privileges denied to\nthe younger men, yet if he be decidedly infirm and unable to take his\npart in the performance of ceremonies which are often closely\nconcerned--or so at least the natives believe them to be--with the\ngeneral welfare of the tribe, then the feeling undoubtedly is that there\nis no need to pay any very special respect to his remains. This feeling\nis probably vaguely associated with the idea that, as his body is\ninfirm, so to a corresponding extent will his spirit part be, and\ntherefore they have no special need to consider or propitiate this, as\nit can do them no harm. On the other hand they are decidedly afraid of\nhurting the feelings of any strong man who might be capable of doing\nthem some mischief unless he saw that he was properly mourned for.\nActing under much the same feeling they pay respect to the bodies of\ndead children and young women, in the hope that the spirit will soon\nreturn and undergo reincarnation. It is also worth noticing that they do\nnot bury in trees any young man who has violated tribal law by taking as\nwife a woman who is forbidden to him; such an individual is always\nburied directly in the ground.\"[253] Apparently these law-abiding\nsavages are not anxious that members of the criminal classes should be\nborn again and should have the opportunity of troubling society once\nmore.\n\n[Sidenote: Different modes of disposing of the dead adopted in the same\ntribe.]\n\nI would call your attention particularly to the different modes of\nburial thus accorded by these two tribes to different classes of\npersons. It is too commonly assumed that each tribe has one uniform way\nof disposing of all its dead, say either by burning or by burying, and\non that assumption certain general theories have been built as to the\ndifferent views taken of the state of the dead by different tribes. But\nin point of fact the assumption is incorrect. Not infrequently the same\ntribe disposes of different classes of dead people in quite different\nways; for instance, it will bury some and burn others. Thus amongst the\nAngoni of British Central Africa the corpses of chiefs are burned with\nall their household belongings, but the bodies of commoners are buried\nwith all their belongings in caves.[254] In various castes or tribes of\nIndia it is the custom to burn the bodies of married people but to bury\nthe bodies of the unmarried.[255] With some peoples of India the\ndistinction is made, not between the married and the unmarried, but\nbetween adults and children, especially children under two years old; in\nsuch cases the invariable practice appears to be to burn the old and\nbury the young. Thus among the Malayalis of Malabar the bodies of men\nand women are burned, but the bodies of children under two years are\nburied, and so are the bodies of all persons who have died of cholera or\nsmall-pox.[256] The same distinctions are observed by the Nayars,\nKadupattans, and other castes or tribes of Cochin.[257] The old rule\nlaid down in the ancient Hindoo law-book _The Grihya-Sutras_ was that\nchildren who died under the age of two should be buried, not burnt.[258]\nThe Bhotias of the Himalayas bury all children who have not yet obtained\ntheir permanent teeth, but they burn all other people.[259] Among the\nKomars the young are buried, and the old cremated.[260] The Coorgs bury\nthe bodies of women and of boys under sixteen years of age, but they\nburn the bodies of men.[261] The Chukchansi Indians of California are\nsaid to have burned only those who died a violent death or were bitten\nby snakes, but to have buried all others.[262] The Minnetaree Indians\ndisposed of their dead differently according to their moral character.\nBad and quarrelsome men they buried in the earth that the Master of Life\nmight not see them; but the bodies of good men they laid on scaffolds,\nthat the Master of Life might behold them.[263] The Kolosh or Tlingit\nIndians of Alaska burn their ordinary dead on a pyre, but deposit the\nbodies of shamans in large coffins, which are supported on four\nposts.[264] The ancient Mexicans thought that all persons who died of\ninfectious diseases were killed by the rain-god Tlaloc; so they painted\ntheir bodies blue, which was the rain-god's colour, and buried instead\nof burning them.[265]\n\n[Sidenote: Special modes of burial adopted to prevent or facilitate the\nreturn of the spirit.]\n\nThese examples may suffice to illustrate the different ways in which the\nsame people may dispose of their dead according to the age, sex, social\nrank, or moral character of the deceased, or the manner of his death. In\nsome cases the special mode of burial adopted seems clearly intended to\nguard against the return of the dead, whether in the form of ghosts or\nof children born again into the world. Such, for instance, was obviously\nthe intention of the old English custom of burying a suicide at a\ncross-road with a stake driven through his body. And if some burial\ncustoms are plainly intended to pin down the dead in the earth, or at\nleast to disable him from revisiting the survivors, so others appear to\nbe planned with the opposite intention of facilitating the departure of\nthe spirit from the grave, in order that he may repair to a more\ncommodious lodging or be born again into the tribe. For example, the\nArunta of Central Australia always bury their dead in the earth and\nraise a low mound over the grave; but they leave a depression in the\nmound on the side which faces towards the spot where the spirit of the\ndeceased is supposed to have dwelt in the intervals between his\nsuccessive reincarnations; and we are expressly told that the purpose of\nleaving this depression is to allow the spirit to go out and in easily;\nfor until the final ceremony of mourning has been performed at the\ngrave, the ghost is believed to spend his time partly in watching over\nhis near relations and partly in the company of its _arumburinga_ or\nspiritual double, who lives at the old _nanja_ spot, that is, at the\nplace where the disembodied soul tarries waiting to be born again.[266]\nThus the Arunta imagine that for some time after death the spirit of the\ndeceased is in a sort of intermediate state, partly hovering about the\nabode of the living, partly visiting his own proper spiritual home, to\nwhich on the completion of the mourning ceremonies he will retire to\nawait the new birth. The final mourning ceremony, which marks the close\nof this intermediate state, takes place some twelve or eighteen months\nafter the death. It consists mainly in nothing more or less than a ghost\nhunt; men armed with shields and spear-throwers assemble and with loud\nshouts beat the air, driving the invisible ghost before them from the\nspot where he died, while the women join in the shouts and buffet the\nair with the palms of their hands to chase away the dead man from the\nold camp which he loves to haunt. In this way the beaters gradually\nadvance towards the grave till they have penned the ghost into it, when\nthey immediately dance on the top of it, beating the air downwards as if\nto drive the spirit down, and stamping on the ground as if to trample\nhim into the earth. After that, the women gather round the grave and cut\neach other's heads with clubs till the blood streams down on it. This\nbrings the period of mourning to an end; and if the deceased was a man,\nhis widow is now free to marry again. In token that the days of her\nsorrow are over, she wears at this final ceremony the gay feathers of\nthe ring-neck parrot in her hair. The spirit of her dead husband, lying\nin the grave, is believed to know the sign and to bid her a last\nfarewell. Even after he has thus been hunted into the grave and trampled\ndown in it, his spirit may still watch over his friends, guard them from\nharm, and visit them in dreams.[267]\n\n[Sidenote: Departure of the ghost supposed to coincide with the\ndisappearance of the flesh from his bones.]\n\nWe may naturally ask, Why should the spirit of the dead be supposed at\nfirst to dwell more or less intermittently near the spot where he died,\nand afterwards to take up his abode permanently at his _nanja_ spot till\nthe time comes for him to be born again? A good many years ago I\nconjectured[268] that this idea of a change in the abode of the ghost\nmay be suggested by a corresponding change which takes place, or is\nsupposed to take place, about the same time in the state of the body; in\nfact, that so long as the flesh adheres to the bones, so long the soul\nof the dead man may be thought to be detained in the neighbourhood of\nthe body, but that when the flesh has quite decayed, the soul is\ncompletely liberated from its old tabernacle and is free to repair to\nits true spiritual home. In confirmation of this conjecture I pointed to\nthe following facts. Some of the Indians of Guiana bring food and drink\nto their dead so long as the flesh remains on the bones; but when it has\nmouldered away, they conclude that the man himself has departed.[269]\nThe Matacos Indians of the Gran Chaco in Argentina believe that the soul\nof a dead man does not pass down into the nether world until his body is\ndecomposed or burnt. Further, the Alfoors of Central Celebes\nsuppose that the spirits of the departed cannot enter the spirit-land\nuntil all the flesh has been removed from their bones; for until that\nhas been done, the gods (_lamoa_) in the other world could not bear the\nstench of the corpse. Accordingly at a great festival the bodies of all\nwho have died within a certain time are dug up and the decaying flesh\nscraped from the bones. Comparing these ideas, I suggested that\nthey may explain the widespread custom of a second burial, that is, the\npractice of disinterring the dead after a certain time and disposing of\ntheir bones otherwise.\n\n[Sidenote: Second burial of the bones among the tribes of Central\nAustralia. Final burial ceremony among the Warramunga.]\n\nNow so far as the tribes of Central Australia are concerned, my\nconjecture has been confirmed by the subsequent researches of Messrs.\nSpencer and Gillen in that region. For they have found that the tribes\nto the north of the Arunta regularly give their dead a second burial,\nthat a change in the state of the ghosts is believed to coincide with\nthe second burial, and apparently also, though this is not so definitely\nstated, that the time for the second burial is determined by the\ndisappearance of the flesh from the bones. Amongst the tribes which\npractise a second burial the custom is first to deposit the dead on\nplatforms among the branches of trees, till the flesh has quite\nmouldered away, and then to bury the bones in the earth: in short, they\npractise tree-burial first and earth-burial afterwards.[270] For\nexample, in the Unmatjera and Kaitish tribes, when a man dies, his body\nis carried by his relations to a tree distant a mile or two from the\ncamp. There it is laid on a platform by itself for some months. When the\nflesh has disappeared from the bones, a kinsman of the deceased, in\nstrictness a younger brother (_itia_), climbs up into the tree,\ndislocates the bones, places them in a wooden vessel, and hands them\ndown to a female relative. Then the bones are laid in the grave with the\nhead facing in the direction in which his mother's brother is supposed\nto have camped in days of old. After the bones have been thus interred,\nthe spirit of the dead man is believed to go away and to remain in his\nold _alcheringa_ home until such time as he once more undergoes\nreincarnation.[271] But in these tribes, as we saw, very old men and\nwomen receive only one burial, being at once laid in an earthy grave and\nnever set up on a platform in a tree; and we have seen reason to think\nthat this difference in the treatment of the aged springs from the\nindifference or contempt in which their ghosts are held by comparison\nwith the ghosts of the young and vigorous. In the Warramunga tribe, who\nregularly deposit their dead in trees first and in the earth afterwards,\nso long as the corpse remains in the tree and the flesh has not\ncompletely disappeared from the bones, the mother of the deceased and\nthe women who stand to him or her in the relation of tribal motherhood\nare obliged from time to time to go to the tree, and sitting under the\nplatform to allow its putrid juices to drip down on their bodies, into\nwhich they rub them as a token of sorrow. This, no doubt, is intended to\nplease the jealous ghost; for we are told that he is believed to haunt\nthe tree and even to visit the camp, in order, if he was a man, to see\nfor himself that his widows are mourning properly. The time during which\nthe mouldering remains are left in the tree is at least a year and may\nbe more.[272] The final ceremony which brings the period of mourning to\nan end is curious and entirely different from the one observed by the\nArunta on the same occasion. When the bones have been taken down from\nthe tree, an arm-bone is put carefully apart from the rest. Then the\nskull is smashed, and the fragments together with all the rest of the\nbones except the arm-bone, are buried in a hollow ant-hill near the\ntree. Afterwards the arm-bone is wrapt up in paper-bark and wound round\nwith fur-string, so as to make a torpedo-shaped parcel, which is kept by\na tribal mother of the deceased in her rude hovel of branches, till,\nafter the lapse of some days or weeks, the time comes for the last\nceremony of all. On that day a design emblematic of the totem of the\ndeceased is drawn on the ground, and beside it a shallow trench is dug\nabout a foot deep and fifteen feet long. Over this trench a number of\nmen, elaborately decorated with down of various colours, stand\nstraddle-legged, while a line of women, decorated with red and yellow\nochre, crawl along the trench under the long bridge made by the\nstraddling legs of the men. The last woman carries the arm-bone of the\ndead in its parcel, and as soon as she emerges from the trench, the bone\nis snatched from her by a kinsman of the deceased, who carries it to a\nman standing ready with an uplifted axe beside the totemic drawing. On\nreceiving the bone, the man at once smashes it, hastily buries it in a\nsmall pit beside the totemic emblem of the departed, and closes the\nopening with a large flat stone, signifying thereby that the season of\nmourning is over and that the dead man or woman has been gathered to his\nor her totem. The totemic design, beside which the arm-bone is buried,\nrepresents the spot at which the totemic ancestor of the deceased\nfinally went down into the earth. When once the arm-bone has thus been\nbroken and laid in its last resting-place, the soul of the dead person,\nwhich they describe as being of about the size of a grain of sand, is\nsupposed to go back to the place where it camped long ago in a previous\nincarnation, there to remain with the souls of other men and women of\nthe same totem until the time comes for it to be born again.[273]\n\n[Sidenote: General conclusion as to the belief in immortality and the\nworship of the dead among the Australian aborigines.]\n\nThis must conclude what I have to say as to the belief in immortality\nand the worship of the dead among the aborigines of Australia. The\nevidence I have adduced is sufficient to prove that these savages firmly\nbelieve both in the existence of the human soul after death and in the\npower which it can exert for good or evil over the survivors. On the\nwhole the dominant motive in their treatment of the dead appears to be\nfear rather than affection. Yet the attention which many tribes pay to\nthe comfort of the departed by providing them with huts, food, water,\nfire, clothing, implements and weapons, may not be dictated by purely\nselfish motives; in any case they are clearly intended to please and\npropitiate the ghosts, and therefore contain the germs of a regular\nworship of the dead.\n\n[Footnote 216: E. J. Eyre, _Journals of Expeditions of Discovery into\nCentral Australia_ (London, 1845), ii. 349.]\n\n[Footnote 217: A. Oldfield, \"The Aborigines of Victoria,\" _Transactions\nof the Ethnological Society of London_, N.S. iii. (1865) p. 245.]\n\n[Footnote 218: P. Beveridge, in _Journal and Proceedings of the Royal\nSociety of New South Wales_, xvii. (1883) pp. 29 _sq._ Compare R. Brough\nSmyth, _Aborigines of Victoria_, i. 100 note.]\n\n[Footnote 219: (Sir) G. Grey, _Journals of Two Expeditions of\nDiscovery_, ii. 332 _sq._]\n\n[Footnote 220: Rev. J. Roscoe, _The Baganda_ (London, 1911), pp. 109\n_sqq._]\n\n[Footnote 221: E. M. Curr, _The Australian Race_ (Melbourne and London,\n1886-1887), i. 87.]\n\n[Footnote 222: A. W. Howitt, _Native Tribes of South-East Australia_, p.\n463.]\n\n[Footnote 223: A. W. Howitt, _op. cit._ p. 461.]\n\n[Footnote 224: A. W. Howitt, _op. cit._ p. 473.]\n\n[Footnote 225: A. W. Howitt, _op. cit._ p. 474.]\n\n[Footnote 226: F. C. Urquhart, \"Legends of the Australian Aborigines,\"\n_Journal of the Anthropological Institute_, xiv. (1885) p. 88.]\n\n[Footnote 227: E. M. Curr, _The Australian Race_, i. 87.]\n\n[Footnote 228: Leviticus xix. 28; Deuteronomy xiv. 1.]\n\n[Footnote 229: W. Stanbridge, \"Tribes in the Central Part of Victoria,\"\n_Transactions of the Ethnological Society of London_, N.S. i. (1861) p.\n298.]\n\n[Footnote 230: R. Brough Smyth, _Aborigines of Victoria_, i. 105.]\n\n[Footnote 231: A. W. Howitt, _Native Tribes of South-East Australia_, p.\n459.]\n\n[Footnote 232: A. W. Howitt, _op. cit_. p. 453.]\n\n[Footnote 233: P. Beveridge, in _Journal and Proceedings of the Royal\nSociety of New South Wales_, xvii. (1883) pp. 28, 29.]\n\n[Footnote 234: A. W. Howitt, _op. cit_. p. 466.]\n\n[Footnote 235: E. J. Eyre, _Journals of Expeditions of Discovery into\nCentral Australia_ (London, 1845), ii. 347.]\n\n[Footnote 236: W. E. Roth, _Studies among the North-West-Central\nQueensland Aborigines_ (Brisbane and London, 1897), p. 164; compare p.\n165.]\n\n[Footnote 237: Spencer and Gillen, _Native Tribes of Central Australia_,\np. 500.]\n\n[Footnote 238: Spencer and Gillen, _op. cit._ p. 510.]\n\n[Footnote 239: Spencer and Gillen, _Northern Tribes of Central\nAustralia_, pp. 516-552.]\n\n[Footnote 240: Spencer and Gillen, _Native Tribes_, p. 510.]\n\n[Footnote 241: Spencer and Gillen, _Northern Tribes_, p. 507.]\n\n[Footnote 242: Spencer and Gillen, _Native Tribes_, p. 511.]\n\n[Footnote 243: F. Bonney, \"On some Customs of the Aborigines of the\nRiver Darling,\" _Journal of the Anthropological Institute_, xiii. (1884)\npp. 134 _sq._]\n\n[Footnote 244: Spencer and Gillen, _Native Tribes of Central Australia_,\npp. 507, 509 _sq._]\n\n[Footnote 245: (Sir) G. Grey, _Journals of Two Expeditions of\nDiscovery_, ii. 332, quoting Mr. Bussel.]\n\n[Footnote 246: Scholiast on Pindar, _Olymp._ i. 146.]\n\n[Footnote 247: Homer, _Odyssey_, xi. 23 _sqq._]\n\n[Footnote 248: _The Magic Art and the Evolution of Kings_, i. 91 _sq._]\n\n[Footnote 249: J. Dawson, _Australian Aborigines_, p. 62.]\n\n[Footnote 250: R. Brough Smyth, _Aborigines of Victoria_, i. 108.]\n\n[Footnote 251: J. F. Mann, \"Notes on the Aborigines of Australia,\"\n_Proceedings of the Geographical Society of Australasia_, i. (Sydney,\n1885) p. 48.]\n\n[Footnote 252: Spencer and Gillen, _Northern Tribes of Central\nAustralia_, p. 506.]\n\n[Footnote 253: Spencer and Gillen, _Northern Tribes_, p. 512.]\n\n[Footnote 254: R. Sutherland Rattray, _Some Folk-lore Stories and Songs\nin Chinyanja_ (London, 1907), pp. 99-101, 182.]\n\n[Footnote 255: F. Fawcett, \"The Kondayamkottai Maravars, a Dravidian\nTribe of Tinnevelly, Southern India,\" _Journal of the Anthropological\nInstitute_, xxxiii. (1903) p. 64; Captain Wolsley Haig, \"Notes on the\nRangari Caste in Barar,\" _Journal of the Asiatic Society of Bengal_,\nlxx. Part iii. (1901) p. 8; E. Thurston, _Castes and Tribes of Southern\nIndia_ (Madras, 1909), iv. 226 (as to the Lambadis), vi. 244 (as to the\nRaniyavas); compare _id._, _Ethnographic Notes in Southern India_\n(Madras, 1906), p. 155.]\n\n[Footnote 256: E. Thurston, _Ethnographic Notes in Southern India_, p.\n207.]\n\n[Footnote 257: L. K. Anantha Krishna Iyer, _The Cochin Tribes and\nCastes_ (Madras, 1909-1912), ii. 91, 112, 157, 360, 378.]\n\n[Footnote 258: _The Grihya Sutras_, translated by H. Oldenberg, Part i.\np. 355 (_Sacred Books of the East_, vol. xxix.). Compare W. Crooke,\n_Popular Religion and Folk-lore of Northern India_ (Westminster, 1896),\ni. 245.]\n\n[Footnote 259: Ch. A. Sherring, _Western Tibet and the British\nBorderland_ (London, 1906), pp. 123 _sq._]\n\n[Footnote 260: P. N. Bose, \"Chhattisgar,\" _Journal of the Asiatic\nSociety of Bengal_, lix., Part i. (1891) p. 290.]\n\n[Footnote 261: E. Thurston, _Ethnographic Notes in Southern India_, p.\n205.]\n\n[Footnote 262: S. Powers, _Tribes of California_ (Washington, 1877), p.\n383.]\n\n[Footnote 263: Maximilian Prinz zu Wied, _Reise in das Innere\nNord-America_ (Coblenz, 1839-1841), ii. 235.]\n\n[Footnote 264: T. de Pauly, _Description Ethnographique des Peuples de\nla Russie, Peuples de l'Amerique Russe_ (St. Petersburg, 1862), p. 13.]\n\n[Footnote 265: E. Seler, _Altmexikanische Studien_, ii. (Berlin, 1899)\np. 42 (_Veroeffentlichungen aus dem Koeniglichen Museum fuer Voelkerkunde_,\nvi. 2/4).]\n\n[Footnote 266: Spencer and Gillen, _Native Tribes of Central Australia_,\np. 497; _id._, _Northern Tribes of Central Australia_, p. 506.]\n\n[Footnote 267: Spencer and Gillen, _Native Tribes of Central Australia_,\npp. 503-508. The name of the final mourning ceremony among the Arunta is\n_urpmilchima_.]\n\n[Footnote 268: _The Golden Bough_, Second Edition (London, 1900), i. 434\n_sq._]\n\n[Footnote 269: A. Biet, _Voyage de la France Equinoxiale en l'Isle de\nCayenne_ (Paris, 1664), p. 392.]\n\n[Footnote 270: Spencer and Gillen, _Northern Tribes of Central\nAustralia_, pp. 505 _sqq._]\n\n[Footnote 271: Spencer and Gillen, _Northern Tribes of Central\nAustralia_, pp. 506-508.]\n\n[Footnote 272: Spencer and Gillen, _Northern Tribes of Central\nAustralia_, p. 530.]\n\n[Footnote 273: Spencer and Gillen, _Northern Tribes of Central\nAustralia_, pp. 530-543.]\n\n\n\n\nLECTURE VIII\n\nTHE BELIEF IN IMMORTALITY AMONG THE NATIVES OF THE TORRES STRAITS\nISLANDS\n\n\n[Sidenote: The Islanders of Torres Straits. The Cambridge\nAnthropological Expedition to Torres Straits.]\n\nIn the last lecture I concluded my account of the belief in immortality\nand worship of the dead, or rather of the elements out of which such a\nworship might have grown, among the aborigines of Australia. To-day we\npass to the consideration of a different people, the islanders of Torres\nStraits. As you may know, Torres Straits are the broad channel which\ndivides Australia on the south from the great island of New Guinea on\nthe north. The small islands which are scattered over the strait fall\nroughly into two groups, a Western and an Eastern, of which the eastern\nis at once the more isolated and the more fertile. In appearance,\ncharacter, and customs the inhabitants of all these islands belong to\nthe Papuan family, which inhabits the western half of New Guinea, but in\nrespect of language there is a marked difference between the natives of\nthe two groups; for while the speech of the Western Islanders is akin to\nthat of the Australians, the speech of the Eastern Islanders is akin to\nthat of the Papuans of New Guinea. The conclusion to be drawn from these\nfacts appears to be that the Western Islands of Torres Straits were\nformerly inhabited by aborigines of the Australian family, and that at a\nlater time they were occupied by immigrants from New Guinea, who adopted\nthe language of the aboriginal inhabitants, but gradually extinguished\nthe aboriginal type and character either by peaceful absorption or by\nconquest and extermination.[274] Hence the Western Islanders of Torres\nStraits form a transition both geographically and ethnographically\nbetween the aborigines of Australia on the one side and the aborigines\nof New Guinea on the other side. Accordingly in our survey of the belief\nin immortality among the lower races we may appropriately consider the\nIslanders of Torres Straits immediately after the aborigines of\nAustralia and before we pass onward to other and more distant races.\nThese Islanders have a special claim on the attention of a Cambridge\nlecturer, since almost all the exact knowledge we possess of them we owe\nto the exertions of Cambridge anthropologists and especially to Dr. A.\nC. Haddon, who on his first visit to the islands in 1888 perceived the\nurgent importance of procuring an accurate record of the old beliefs and\ncustoms of the natives before it was too late, and who never rested till\nthat record was obtained, as it happily has been, first by his own\nunaided researches in the islands, and afterwards by the united\nresearches of a band of competent enquirers. In the history of\nanthropology the Cambridge Expedition to Torres Straits in 1898 will\nalways hold an honourable place, to the credit of the University which\npromoted it and especially to that of the zealous and devoted\ninvestigator who planned, organised, and carried it to a successful\nconclusion. Practically all that I shall have to tell you as to the\nbeliefs and practices of the Torres Straits Islanders is derived from\nthe accurate and laborious researches of Dr. Haddon and his colleagues.\n\n[Sidenote: Social culture of the Torres Straits Islanders.]\n\nWhile the natives of Torres Straits are, or were at the time of their\ndiscovery, in the condition which we call savagery, they stand on a far\nhigher level of social and intellectual culture than the rude aborigines\nof Australia. To indicate roughly the degree of advance we need only say\nthat, whereas the Australians are nomadic hunters and fishers, entirely\nignorant of agriculture, and destitute to a great extent not only of\nhouses but even of clothes, the natives of Torres Straits live in\nsettled villages and diligently till the soil, raising a variety of\ncrops, such as yams, sweet potatoes, bananas, sugar-cane, and\ntobacco.[275] Of the two groups of islands the eastern is the more\nfertile and the inhabitants are more addicted to agriculture than are\nthe natives of the western islands, who, as a consequence of the greater\nbarrenness of the soil, have to eke out their subsistence to a\nconsiderable extent by fishing.[276] And there is other evidence to shew\nthat the Eastern Islanders have attained to a somewhat higher stage of\nsocial evolution than their Western brethren;[277] the more favourable\nnatural conditions under which they live may possibly have contributed\nto raise the general level of culture. One of the most marked\ndistinctions in this respect between the inhabitants of the two groups\nis that, whereas a regular system of totemism with its characteristic\nfeatures prevails among the Western Islanders, no such system nor even\nany very clear evidence of its former existence is to be found among the\nEastern Islanders, whether it be that they never had it or, what is more\nlikely, that they once had but have lost it.[278]\n\n[Sidenote: Belief of the Torres Straits Islanders in the existence of\nthe human spirit after death.]\n\nOn the other hand, so far as regards our immediate subject, the belief\nin immortality and the worship of the dead, a general resemblance may be\ntraced between the creed and customs of the Eastern and Western tribes.\nBoth of them, like the Australian aborigines, firmly believe in the\nexistence of the human spirit after death, but unlike the Australians\nthey seem to have no idea that the souls of the departed are ever born\nagain into the world; the doctrine of reincarnation, so widespread among\nthe natives of Australia, appears to have no place in the creed of their\nnear neighbours the Torres Straits Islanders, whose dead, like our own,\nthough they may haunt the living for a time, are thought to depart at\nlast to a distant spirit-land and to return no more. At the same time\nneither in the one group nor in the other is there any clear evidence of\nwhat may be called a worship of the dead in the strict sense of the\nword, unless we except the cults of certain more or less mythical\nheroes. On this point the testimony of Dr. Haddon is definite as to the\nWestern Islanders. He says: \"In no case have I obtained in the Western\nIslands an indication of anything approaching a worship of deceased\npersons ancestral or otherwise, with the exception of the heroes shortly\nto be mentioned; neither is there any suggestion that their own\nancestors have been in any way apotheosized.\"[279]\n\n[Sidenote: Fear of the ghosts of the recently departed.]\n\nBut if these savages have not, with the possible exception of the cult\nof certain heroes, any regular worship of the dead, they certainly have\nthe germ out of which such a worship might be developed, and that is a\nfirm belief in ghosts and in the mischief which they may do to the\nliving. The word for a ghost is _mari_ in the West and _mar_ in the\nEast: it means also a shadow or reflection,[280] which seems to shew\nthat these savages, like many others, have derived their notion of the\nhuman soul from the observation of shadows and reflections cast by the\nbody on the earth or on water. Further, the Western Islanders appear to\ndistinguish the ghosts of the recently departed (_mari_) from the\nspirits of those who have been longer dead, which they call\n_markai_;[281] and if we accept this distinction \"we may assert,\"\naccording to Dr. Haddon, \"that the Torres Straits Islanders feared the\nghosts but believed in the general friendly disposition of the spirits\nof the departed.\"[282] Similarly we saw that the Australian aborigines\nregard with fear the ghosts of those who have just died, while they are\neither indifferent to the spirits of those who have died many years ago\nor even look upon them as beings of higher powers than their\ndescendants, whom they can benefit in various ways. This sharp\ndistinction between the spirits of the dead, according to the date at\nwhich they died, is widespread, perhaps universal among mankind. However\ntruly the dead were loved in their lifetime, however bitterly they were\nmourned at their death, no sooner have they passed beyond our ken than\nthe thought of their ghosts seems to inspire the generality of mankind\nwith an instinctive fear and horror, as if the character of even the\nbest friends and nearest relations underwent a radical change for the\nworse as soon as they had shuffled off the mortal coil. But among\nsavages this belief in the moral deterioration of ghosts is certainly\nmuch more marked than among civilised races. Ghosts are dreaded both by\nthe Western and the Eastern tribes of Torres Straits. Thus in Mabuiag,\none of the Western Islands, the corpse was carried out of camp feet\nforemost, else it was thought that the ghost would return and trouble\nthe survivors. Further, when the body had been laid upon a stage or\nplatform on clear level ground away from the dwelling, the remains of\nany food and water of which the deceased might have been partaking in\nhis last moments were carried out and placed beside the corpse lest the\nghost should come back to fetch them for himself, to the annoyance and\nterror of his relations. This is the reason actually alleged by the\nnatives for what otherwise might have been interpreted as a delicate\nmark of affection and thoughtful care for the comfort of the departed.\nIf next morning the food was found scattered, the people said that the\nghost was angry and had thrown it about.[283] Further, on the day of the\ndeath the mourners went into the gardens, slashed at the taro, knocked\ndown coco-nuts, pulled up sweet potatoes, and destroyed bananas. We are\ntold that \"the food was destroyed for the sake of the dead man, it was\n'like good-bye.'\"[284] We may suspect that the real motive for the\ndestruction was the same as that for laying food and water beside the\ncorpse, namely, a wish to give the ghost no excuse for returning to\nhaunt and pester his surviving relatives. How could he have the heart to\nreturn to the desolated garden which in his lifetime it had been his\npride and joy to cultivate?\n\n[Sidenote: Fear of the ghosts of the recently departed among the Murray\nIslanders.]\n\nIn Murray Island, also, which belongs to the Eastern group, the ghost of\na recently deceased person is much dreaded; it is supposed to haunt the\nneighbourhood for two or three months, and the elaborate funeral\nceremonies which these savages perform appear to be based on this belief\nand to be intended, in fact, to dismiss the ghost from the land of the\nliving, where he is a very unwelcome visitor, to his proper place in the\nland of the dead.[285] \"The Murray Islanders,\" says Dr. Haddon, \"perform\nas many as possible of the necessary ceremonies in order that the ghost\nof the deceased might not feel slighted, for otherwise it was sure to\nbring trouble on the relatives by causing strong winds to destroy their\ngardens and break down their houses.\"[286] These islanders still believe\nthat a ghost may feel resentment when his children are neglected or\nwronged, or when his lands or goods are appropriated by persons who have\nno claim to them. And this fear of the wrath of the ghost, Dr. Haddon\ntells us, no doubt in past times acted as a wholesome deterrent on\nevil-doers and helped to keep the people from crime, though now-a-days\nthey look rather to the law than to ghosts for the protection of their\nrights and the avenging of their wrongs.[287] Yet here, as in so many\nplaces, it would seem that superstition has proved a useful crutch on\nwhich morality can lean until it is strong enough to walk alone. In the\nabsence of the police the guardianship of law and morality may be\nprovisionally entrusted to ghosts, who, if they are too fickle and\nuncertain in their temper to make ideal constables, are at least better\nthan nothing. With this exception it does not appear that the moral code\nof the Torres Straits Islanders derived any support or sanction from\ntheir religion. No appeal was made by them to totems, ancestors, or\nheroes; no punishment was looked for from these quarters for any\ninfringement of the rules and restraints which hold society\ntogether.[288]\n\n[Sidenote: The island home of the dead.]\n\nThe land of the dead to which the ghosts finally depart is, in the\nopinion of the Torres Straits Islanders, a mythical island in the far\nwest or rather north-west. The Western Islanders name it Kibu; the\nEastern Islanders call it Boigu. The name Kibu means \"sundown.\" It is\nnatural enough that islanders should place the home of the dead in some\nfar island of the sea to which no canoe of living men has ever sailed,\nand it is equally natural that the fabulous island should lie to\nwestward where the sun goes down; for it seems to be a common thought\nthat the souls of the dead are attracted by the great luminary, like\nmoths by a candle, and follow him when he sinks in radiant glory into\nthe sea. To take a single example, in the Maram district of Assam it is\nforbidden to build houses facing westward, because that is the direction\nin which the spirits of the dead go to their long home.[289] But the\nTorres Straits Islanders have a special reason, as Dr. Haddon has well\npointed out, for thinking that the home of the dead is away in the\nnorth-west; and the reason is that in these latitudes the trade wind\nblows steady and strong from the south-east for seven or eight months of\nthe year; so that for the most part the spirits have only to let\nthemselves go and the wind will sweep them away on its pinions to their\nplace of rest. How could the poor fluttering things beat up to windward\nin the teeth of the blast?[290]\n\n[Sidenote: Elaborate funeral ceremonies observed by the Torres Straits\nIslanders.]\n\nThe funeral ceremonies observed by the Torres Straits Islanders were\nnumerous and elaborate, and they present some features of special\ninterest. They succeeded each other at intervals, sometimes of months,\nand amongst the Eastern Islanders in particular there were so many of\nthem that, were it not that the bodies of the very young and the very\nold were treated less ceremoniously, the living would have been\nperpetually occupied in celebrating the obsequies of the dead.[291] The\nobsequies differed somewhat from each other in the East and the West,\nbut they had two characteristics in common: first, the skulls of the\ndead were commonly preserved apart from the bodies and were consulted as\noracles; and, second, the ghosts of the recently deceased were\nrepresented in dramatic ceremonies by masked men, who mimicked the gait\nand gestures of the departed and were thought by the women and children\nto be the very ghosts themselves. But in details there were a good many\nvariations between the practice of the Eastern and the Western\nIslanders. We will begin with the customs of the Western Islanders.\n\n[Sidenote: Funeral ceremonies observed by the Western Islanders. Removal\nand preservation of the skull. Skulls used in divination.]\n\nWhen a death had taken place, the corpse was carried out of the house\nand set on a staging supported by four forked posts and covered by a\nroof of mats. The office of attending to the body devolved properly on\nthe brothers-in-law (_imi_) of the deceased, who, while they were\nengaged in the duties of the office, bore the special title of _mariget_\nor \"ghost-hand.\" It deserves to be noticed that these men were always of\na different totem from the deceased; for if the dead person was a man,\nthe _mariget_ were his wife's brothers and therefore had the same totem\nas the dead man's wife, which, on account of the law of exogamy, always\ndiffered from the totem of her husband. And if the dead person was a\nwoman, the _mariget_ were her husband's brothers and therefore had his\ntotem, which necessarily differed from hers. When they had discharged\nthe preliminary duties to the corpse, the brothers-in-law went and\ninformed the relations and friends. This they did not in words but by a\nprescribed pantomime. For example, if the deceased had had the crocodile\nfor his totem, they imitated the ungainly gait of crocodiles waddling\nand resting, if the deceased had the snake for his totem, they in like\nmanner mimicked the crawling of a snake. The relations then painted\ntheir bodies with white coral mud, cut their hair, plastered mud over\ntheir heads, and cut off their ear ornaments or severed the distended\nlobe of the ear as a sign of mourning. Then, armed with bows and arrows,\nthey came out to the stage where the corpse was lying and let fly arrows\nat the men who were in attendance on it, that is, at the brothers-in-law\nof the deceased, who warded off the shafts as best they could.[292] The\nmeaning of this sham attack on the men who were discharging the last\noffices of respect to the dead comes out clearly in another ceremony\nwhich was performed some time afterwards, as we shall see presently. For\nfive or six days the corpse remained on the platform or bier watched by\nthe brothers-in-law, who had to prevent certain large lizards from\ndevouring it and to frighten away any prowling ghosts that might be\nlured to the spot by the stench. After the lapse of several days the\nrelations returned to the body, mourned, and beat the roof of the bier,\nwhile they raised a shout to drive off any part of the dead man's spirit\nthat might be lingering about his mouldering remains. The reason for\ndoing so was, that the time had now arrived for cutting off the head of\nthe corpse, and they thought that the head would not come off easily if\nthe man's spirit were still in the body; he might reasonably be expected\nto hold on tight to it and not to resign, without a struggle, so\nvaluable a part of his person. When the poor ghost had thus been chased\naway with shouts and blows, the principal brother-in-law came forward\nand performed the amputation by sawing off the head. Having done so, he\nusually placed it in a nest of termites or white ants in order that the\ninsects might pick it clean; but sometimes for the same purpose he\ndeposited it in a creek. When it was thoroughly clean, the grinning\nwhite skull was painted red all over and placed in a decorated basket.\nThen followed the ceremony of formally handing over this relic of the\ndead to the relations. The brothers-in-law, who had been in attendance\non the body, painted themselves black all over, covered their heads with\nleaves, and walked in solemn procession, headed by the chief\nbrother-in-law, who carried the skull in the basket. Meantime the male\nrelatives were awaiting them, seated on a large mat in the ceremonial\nground, while the women grouped themselves in the background. As the\nprocession of men approached bearing the skull, the mourners shot arrows\nover their heads as a sign of anger at them for having decapitated their\nrelation. But this was a mere pretence, probably intended to soothe and\nflatter the angry ghost: the arrows flew over the men without hurting\nthem.[293] Similarly in ancient Egypt the man who cut open a corpse for\nembalmment had no sooner done his office than he fled precipitately,\npursued by the relations with stones and curses, because he had wounded\nand mangled the body of their kinsman.[294] Sometimes the skull was made\nup to resemble the head of a living man: an artificial nose of wood and\nbeeswax supplied the place of a nose of flesh; pearl-shells were\ninserted in the empty eye-balls; and any teeth that might be missing\nwere represented by pieces of wood, while the lower jaw was lashed\nfirmly to the cranium.[295] Whether thus decorated or not, the skulls of\nthe dead were preserved and used in divination. Whenever a skull was to\nbe thus consulted, it was first cleaned, repainted, and either anointed\nwith certain plants or placed upon them. Then the enquirer enjoined the\nskull to speak the truth, and placing it on his pillow at night went to\nsleep. The dream which he dreamed that night was the answer of the\nskull, which spoke with a clappering noise like that of teeth chattering\ntogether. When people went on voyages, they used to take a divining\nskull with them in the stern of the canoe.[296]\n\n[Sidenote: Great death-dance of the Western Islanders. The dead\npersonated by masked actors.]\n\nThe great funeral ceremony, or rather death-dance, of the Western\nIslanders took place in the island of Pulu. When the time came for it, a\nfew men would meet and make the necessary preparations. The ceremony was\nalways performed on the sacred or ceremonial ground (_kwod_), and the\nfirst thing to do was to enclose this ground, for the sake of privacy,\nwith a screen of mats hung on a framework of wood and bamboos. When the\nscreen had been erected, the drums which were to be used by the\norchestra were placed in position beside it. Then the relations were\nsummoned to attend the performance. The ceremony might be performed for\na number of recently deceased people at once, and it varied in\nimportance and elaboration according to the importance and the number of\nthe deceased whose obsequies were being celebrated. The chief\ndifferences were in the number of the performers and the greater or less\ndisplay of scenic apparatus. The head-dresses or leafy masks worn by the\nactors in the sacred drama were made secretly in the bush; no woman or\nuninitiated man might witness the operation. When all was ready, and the\npeople were assembled, the men being stationed in front and the women\nand children in the background, the disguised actors appeared on the\nscene and played the part of the dead, each one of them mimicking the\ngait and actions of the particular man or woman whom he personated; for\nall the parts were played by men, no woman might act in these\nceremonies. The order in which the various ghosts were to appear on the\nscene was arranged beforehand; so that when the actors came forward from\nbehind the screen, the spectators knew which of the dead they were\nsupposed to have before them. The performers usually danced in pairs,\nand vanished behind the screen when their dance was finished. Thus one\npair would follow another till the play was over. Besides the actors who\nplayed the serious and solemn part of the dead, there was usually a\nclown who skipped about and cut capers, tumbling down and getting up\nagain, to make the spectators laugh and so to relieve the strain on\ntheir emotions, which were deeply stirred by this dance of death. The\nbeat of the drums proclaimed that the sacred drama was at an end. Then\nfollowed a great feast, at which special portions of food were assigned\nby the relatives of the deceased to the actors who had personated\nthem.[297]\n\n[Sidenote: Intention of the ceremonies.]\n\nAs to the intention of these curious dramatic performances we have no\nvery definite information. Dr. Haddon says: \"The idea evidently was to\nconvey to the mourners the assurance that the ghost was alive and that\nin the person of the dancer he visited his friends; the assurance of his\nlife after death comforted the bereaved ones.\"[298]\n\n[Sidenote: Funeral ceremonies observed by the Eastern Islanders. The\nsoul of the dead carried away by a masked actor.]\n\nIn the Eastern Islands of Torres Straits the funeral ceremonies seem to\nhave been even more numerous and elaborate. The body was at first laid\non the ground on a mat outside the house, if the weather were fine.\nThere friends wept and wailed over it, the nearest relations, such as\nthe wife and mother, sitting at the head of the corpse. About an hour\nafter the sun had set, the drummers and singers arrived. All night the\ndrums beat and the people sang, but just as the dawn was breaking the\nwild music died away into silence. The wants of the living were now\nattended to: the assembled people breakfasted on green coco-nuts; and\nthen, about an hour after sunrise, they withdrew from the body and took\nup a position a little further off to witness the next act of the drama\nof death. The drums now struck up again in quicker time to herald the\napproach of an actor, who could be heard, but not seen, shaking his\nrattle in the adjoining forest. Faster and faster beat the drums, louder\nand louder rose the singing, till the spectators were wound up to a\npitch of excitement bordering on frenzy. Then at last a strange figure\nburst from the forest and came skipping and posturing towards the\ncorpse. It was Terer, a spirit or mythical being who had come to fetch\nthe soul of the departed and to bear it far away to its place of rest in\nthe island beyond the sea. On his head he wore a wreath of leaves: a\nmask made of the mid-ribs of coco-nut leaves or of croton leaves hid his\nface: a long feather of the white tern nodded on his brow; and a mantle\nof green coco-nut leaves concealed his body from the shoulders to the\nknees. His arms were painted red: round his neck he wore a crescent of\npearl-shell: in his left hand he carried a bow and arrows, and in his\nmouth a piece of wood, to which were affixed two rings of green coco-nut\nleaf. Thus attired he skipt forwards, rattling a bunch of nuts in his\nright hand, bending his head now to one side and now to another, swaying\nhis body backwards and forwards, but always keeping time to the measured\nbeat of the drums. At last, after a series of rapid jumps from one foot\nto the other, he ended his dance, and turning round fled away westward\nalong the beach. He had taken the soul of the dead and was carrying it\naway to the spirit-land. The excitement of the women now rose to the\nhighest pitch. They screamed and jumped from the ground raising their\narms in air high above their heads. Shrieking and wailing all pursued\nthe retreating figure along the beach, the mother or widow of the dead\nman casting herself again and again prostrate on the sand and throwing\nit in handfuls over her head. Among the pursuers was another masked man,\nwho represented Aukem, the mother of Terer. She, or rather he, was\ndressed in dried banana leaves: long tufts of grass hung from her head\nover her face and shoulders; and in her mouth she carried a lighted\nbundle of dry coco-nut fibre, which emitted clouds of smoke. With an\nunsteady rickety gait the beldame hobbled after her rapidly retreating\nson, who turned round from time to time, skipping and posturing\nderisively as if to taunt her, and then hurrying away again westward.\nThus the two quaint figures retreated further and further, he in front\nand she behind, till they were lost to view. But still the drums\ncontinued to beat and the singers to chant their wild song, when nothing\nwas to be seen but the deserted beach with the sky and the drifting\nclouds above and the white waves breaking on the strand. Meantime the\ntwo actors in the sacred drama made their way westward till their\nprogress was arrested by the sea. They plunged into it and swimming\nwestward unloosed their leafy envelopes and let them float away to the\nspirit-land in the far island beyond the rolling waters. But the men\nthemselves swam back to the beach, resumed the dress of ordinary\nmortals, and quietly mingled with the assembly of mourners.[299]\n\n[Sidenote: Personation of ghosts by masked men.]\n\nSuch was the first act of the drama. The second followed immediately\nabout ten o'clock in the morning. The actors in it were twenty or thirty\nmen disguised as ghosts or spirits of the dead (_zera markai_). Their\nbodies were blackened from the neck to the ankles, but the lower part of\ntheir faces and their feet were dyed bright red, and a red triangle was\npainted on the front of their bodies. They wore head-dresses of grass\nwith long projecting ribs of coco-nut leaves, and a long tail of grass\nbehind reaching down to the level of the knees. In their hands they held\nlong ribs of coco-nut leaf. They were preceded by a curious figure\ncalled _pager_, a man covered from head to foot with dry grass and dead\nbanana leaves, who sidled along with an unsteady rolling gait in a\nzigzag course, keeping his head bowed, his red-painted hands clasped in\nfront of his face, and his elbows sticking out from both sides of his\nbody. In spite of his erratic course and curious mode of progression he\ndrew away from the troop of ghosts behind him and came on towards the\nspectators, jerking his head from side to side, his hands shaking, and\nwailing as he went. Behind him marched the ghosts, with their hands\ncrossed behind their backs and their faces looking out to sea. When they\ndrew near to the orchestra, who were singing and drumming away, they\nhalted and formed in two lines facing the spectators. They now all\nassumed the familiar attitude of a fencer on guard, one foot and arm\nadvanced, the other foot and arm drawn back, and lunged to right and\nleft as if they were stabbing something with the long ribs of the\ncoco-nut leaves which they held in their hands. This manoeuvre they\nrepeated several times, the orchestra playing all the time. Then they\nretreated into the forest, but only to march out again, form in line,\nstand on guard, and lunge again and again at the invisible foe. This\nappears to have been the whole of the second act of the drama. No\nexplanation of it is given. We can only conjecture that the band of men,\nwho seem from their name (_zera markai_) to have represented the ghosts\nor spirits of the dead, came to inform the living that the departed\nbrother or sister had joined the majority, and that any attempt to\nrescue him or her would be vain. That perhaps was the meaning of the\nsolemn pantomime of the lines of actors standing on guard and lunging\nagain and again towards the spectators. But I must acknowledge that this\nis a mere conjecture of my own.[300]\n\n[Sidenote: Blood and hair offered to the dead.]\n\nBe that as it may, when this act of the drama was over, the mourners\ntook up the body and with weeping and wailing laid it on a wooden\nframework resting on four posts at a little distance from the house of\nthe deceased. Youths who had lately been initiated, and girls who had\nattained to puberty, now had the lobes of their ears cut. The blood\nstreamed down over their faces and bodies and was allowed to drip on the\nfeet of the corpse as a mark of pity or sorrow.[301] The other relatives\ncut their hair and left the shorn locks in a heap under the body. Blood\nand hair were probably regarded as offerings made to the departed\nkinsman or kinswoman. We saw that the Australian aborigines in like\nmanner cut themselves and allow the blood to drip on the corpse; and\nthey also offer their hair to the dead, cutting off parts of their\nbeards, singeing them, and throwing them on the corpse.[302] Having\nplaced the body on the stage and deposited their offerings of hair under\nit, the relatives took some large yams, cut them in pieces, and laid the\npieces beside the body in order to serve as food for the ghost, who was\nsupposed to eat it at night.[303] This notion seems inconsistent with\nthe belief that the soul of the departed had already been carried off to\nBoigu, the island of the dead; but consistency in such matters is as\nlittle to be looked for among savages as among ourselves.\n\n[Sidenote: Mummification of the corpse.]\n\nWhen the body had remained a few days on the stage in the open air,\nsteps were taken to convert it into a mummy. For this purpose it was\nlaid in a small canoe manned by some young people of the same sex as the\ndeceased. They paddled it across the lagoon to the reef and there rubbed\noff the skin, extracted the bowels from the abdomen and the brain from\nthe skull, and having sewed up the hole in the abdomen and thrown the\nbowels into the sea, they brought the remains back to land and lashed\nthem to the wooden framework with string, while they fixed a small stick\nto the lower jaw to keep it from drooping. The framework with its\nghastly burden was fastened vertically to two posts behind the house,\nwhere it was concealed from public view by a screen of coco-nut leaves.\nHoles were pricked with an arrow between the fingers and toes to allow\nthe juices of decomposition to escape, and a fire was kindled and kept\nburning under the stage to dry up the body.[304]\n\n[Sidenote: Garb of mourners. Cuttings for the dead.]\n\nAbout ten days after the death a feast of bananas, yams, and germinating\ncoco-nuts was partaken of by the relations and friends, and portions\nwere distributed to the assembled company, who carried them home in\nbaskets. It was on this occasion that kinsfolk and friends assumed the\ngarb of mourners. Their faces and bodies were smeared with a mixture of\ngreyish earth and water: the ashes of a wood fire were strewn on their\nheads; and fringes of sago leaves were fastened on their arms and legs.\nA widow wore besides a special petticoat made of the inner bark of the\nfig-tree; the ends of it were passed between her legs and tucked up\nbefore and behind. She had to leave her hair unshorn during the whole\nperiod of her widowhood; and in time it grew into a huge mop of a light\nyellow colour in consequence of the ashes with which it was smeared.\nThis coating of ashes, as well as the grey paint on her face and body,\nshe was expected to renew from time to time.[305] It was also on the\noccasion of this feast, on or about the tenth day after death, that\nyoung kinsfolk of the deceased had certain patterns cut in their flesh\nby a sharp shell. The persons so operated on were young adults of both\nsexes nearly related to the dead man or woman. Women generally operated\non women and men on men. The patients were held down during the\noperation, which was painful, and they sometimes fainted under it. The\npatterns were first drawn on the skin in red paint and then cut in with\nthe shell. They varied a good deal in shape. Some consisted of\narrangements of lines and scrolls; a favourite one, which was only\ncarved on women, represented a centipede. The blood which flowed from\nthe wounds was allowed to drip on the corpse, thus forming a sacrifice\nor tribute to the dead.[306]\n\n[Sidenote: The Dance of Death. The nocturnal dance.]\n\nWhen the body had remained some time, perhaps four or six months, on the\nscaffold, and the process of mummification was far advanced, a dance of\ndeath was held to celebrate the final departure of the spirit for its\nlong home. Several men, seldom exceeding four in number, were chosen to\nact the part of ghosts, including the ghost of him or her in whose\nhonour the performance was specially held. Further, about a dozen men\nwere selected to form a sort of chorus; their business was to act as\nintermediaries between the living and the dead, summoning up the shades,\nserving as their messengers, and informing the people of their presence.\nThe costume of the ghosts was simple, consisting of nothing but a\nhead-dress and shoulder-band of leaves. The chorus, if we may call them\nso, wore girdles of leaves round their waists and wreaths of leaves on\ntheir heads. When darkness had fallen, the first act of the drama was\nplayed. The chorus stood in line opposite the mummy. Beyond them stood\nor sat the drummers, and beyond them again the audience was crowded on\nthe beach, the women standing furthest from the mummy and nearest to the\nsea. The drummers now struck up, chanting at the same time to the beat\nof the drums. This was the overture. Then a shrill whistle in the forest\nannounced the approach of a ghost. The subdued excitement among the\nspectators, especially among the women, was intense. Meantime the\nchorus, holding each other's hands, advanced sidelong towards the mummy\nwith strange gestures, the hollow thud of their feet as they stamped on\nthe ground being supposed to be the tread of the ghosts. Thus they\nadvanced to the red-painted mummy with its grinning mouth. Behind it by\nthis time stood one of the ghosts, and between him and the chorus a\ndialogue ensued. \"Whose ghost is there?\" called out the chorus; and a\nstrident voice answered from the darkness, \"The ghost of so and so is\nhere.\" At that the chorus retreated in the same order as they had\nadvanced, and again the hollow thud of their feet sounded in the ears of\nthe excited spectators as the tramp of the dead. On reaching the\ndrummers in their retreat the chorus called out some words of uncertain\nmeaning, which have been interpreted, \"Spirit of so-and-so, away at sea,\nloved little.\" At all events, the name of a dead person was pronounced,\nand at the sound the women, thrilled with excitement, leaped from the\nground, holding their hands aloft; then hurled themselves prone on the\nsand, throwing it over their heads and wailing. The drums now beat\nfaster and a wild weird chant rose into the air, then died away and all\nwas silent, except perhaps for the lapping of the waves on the sand or\nthe muffled thunder of the surf afar off on the barrier reef. Thus one\nghost after another was summoned from the dusty dead and vanished again\ninto the darkness. When all had come and gone, the leader of the chorus,\nwho kept himself invisible behind the screen save for a moment when he\nwas seen by the chorus to glide behind the mummy on its stage, blew a\nwhistle and informed the spectators in a weird voice that all the ghosts\nthat had been summoned that night would appear before them in broad day\nlight on the morrow. With that the audience dispersed. But the men who\nhad played the parts of the ghosts came forward and sat down with the\nchorus and the drummers on mats beside the body. There they remained\nsinging to the beat of the drums till the first faint streaks of dawn\nglimmered in the east.\n\n[Sidenote: The noonday dance. The ghosts represented by masked actors.]\n\nNext morning the men assembled beside the body to inspect the actors who\nwere to personate the ghosts, in order to make sure that they had\nlearned their parts well and could mimick to the life the figure and\ngait of the particular dead persons whom they represented. By the time\nthat these preparations were complete, the morning had worn on to noon.\nThe audience was already assembled on the beach and on the long stretch\nof sand left by the ebbing tide; for the hour of the drama was always\nfixed at low water so as to allow ample space for the spectators to\nstand at a distance from the players, lest they should detect the\nfeatures of the living under the masks of the dead. All being ready, the\ndrummers marched in and took up their position just above the beach,\nfacing the audience. The overture having been concluded, the first ghost\nwas seen to glide from the forest and come dancing towards the beach. If\nhe represented a woman, his costume was more elaborate than it had been\nunder the shades of evening the night before. His whole body was painted\nred. A petticoat of leaves encircled his waist: a mask of leaves,\nsurmounted by tufts of cassowary and pigeon feathers, concealed his\nhead; and in his hands he carried brooms of coco-nut palm leaf. If he\npersonated a man, he held a bow in one hand and an arrow in the other,\nand his costume was the usual dress of a dancer, with the addition of a\nhead-dress of leaves and feathers and a diamond-shaped ornament of\nbamboo, which he held in his teeth and which entirely concealed his\nfeatures. He approached dancing and mimicking the gestures of the person\nwhom he represented. At the sight the women wailed, and the widow would\ncry out, \"That's my husband,\" the mother would cry out, \"That's my son.\"\nThen suddenly the drummers would call out, \"Ah! Ah! Ai! Ai!\" at which\nthe women would fall to the ground, while the dancer retreated into the\nforest. In this way one ghost after the other would make his appearance,\nplay his part, and vanish. Occasionally two of them would appear and\ndance together. The women and children, we are told, really believed\nthat the actors were the ghosts of their dead kinsfolk. When the first\ndancer had thus danced before the people, he advanced with the drummers\ntowards the framework on which the mummy was stretched, and there he\nrepeated his dance before it. But the people were not allowed to witness\nthis mystery; they remained wailing on the beach, for this was the\nmoment at which the ghost of the dead man or woman was supposed to be\ndeparting for ever to the land of shades.[307]\n\n[Sidenote: Preservation of the mummy.]\n\nSome days afterwards the mummy was affixed to a new framework of bamboo\nand carried into the hut. In former times the huts were of a beehive\nshape, and the framework which supported the mummy was fastened to the\ncentral post on which the roof rested. The body thus stood erect within\nthe house. Its dried skin had been painted red. The empty orbits of the\neyes had been filled with pieces of pearl-shell of the nautilus to\nimitate eyes, two round spots of black beeswax standing for the pupils.\nThe ears were decorated with shreds of the sago-palm or with grey seeds.\nA frontlet of pearl-shell nautilus adorned the head, and a crescent of\npearl-shell the breast. In the darkness of the old-fashioned huts the\nbody looked like a living person. In course of time it became almost\ncompletely mummified and as light as if it were made of paper. Swinging\nto and fro with every breath of wind, it turned its gleaming eyes at\neach movement of the head. The hut was now surrounded by posts and ropes\nto prevent the ghost from making his way into it and taking possession\nof his old body. Ghosts were supposed to appear only at night, and it\nwas imagined that in the dark they would stumble against the posts and\nentangle themselves in the ropes, till in despair they desisted from the\nattempt to penetrate into the hut. In time the mummy mouldered away and\nfell to pieces. If the deceased was a male, the head was removed and a\nwax model of it made and given to the brother, whether blood or tribal\nbrother, of the dead man. The head thus prepared or modelled in wax,\nwith eyes of pearl-shell, was used in divination. The decaying remains\nof the body were taken to the beach and placed on a platform supported\nby four posts. That was their last resting-place.[308]\n\n[Sidenote: General summary. Dramas of the dead.]\n\nTo sum up the foregoing evidence, we may say that if the beliefs and\npractices of the Torres Straits Islanders which I have described do not\namount to a worship of the dead, they contain the elements out of which\nsuch a worship might easily have been developed. The preservation of the\nbodies of the dead, or at least their skulls, in the houses, and the\nconsultation of them as oracles, prove that the spirits of the dead are\nsupposed to possess knowledge which may be of great use to the living;\nand the custom suggests that in other countries the images of the gods\nmay perhaps have been evolved out of the mummies of the dead. Further,\nthe dramatic representation of the ghosts in a series of striking and\nimpressive performances indicates how a sacred and in time a secular\ndrama may elsewhere have grown out of a purely religious celebration\nconcerned with the souls of the departed. In this connexion we are\nreminded of Professor Ridgeway's theory that ancient Greek tragedy\noriginated in commemorative songs and dances performed at the tomb for\nthe purpose of pleasing and propitiating the ghost of the mighty\ndead.[309] Yet the mortuary dramas of the Torres Straits Islanders can\nhardly be adduced to support that theory by analogy so long as we are\nignorant of the precise significance which the natives themselves\nattached to these remarkable performances. There is no clear evidence\nthat the dramas were acted for the amusement and gratification of the\nghost rather than for the edification of the spectators. One important\nact certainly represented, and might well be intended to facilitate, the\nfinal departure of the spirit of the deceased to the land of souls. But\nthe means taken to effect that departure might be adopted in the\ninterests of the living quite as much as out of a tender regard for the\nwelfare of the dead, since the ghost of the recently departed is\ncommonly regarded with fear and aversion, and his surviving relations\nresort to many expedients for the purpose of ridding themselves of his\nunwelcome presence.\n\n[Footnote 274: S. H. Ray, in _Reports of the Cambridge Anthropological\nExpedition to Torres Straits_, iii. (Cambridge, 1907) pp. 509-511; A. C.\nHaddon, \"The Religion of the Torres Straits Islanders,\" _Anthropological\nEssays presented to E. B. Tyler_ (Oxford, 1907), p. 175.]\n\n[Footnote 275: _Cambridge Anthropological Expedition to Torres Straits_,\niv. 92 _sqq._, 144 _sqq._, v. 346, vi. 207 _sqq._]\n\n[Footnote 276: A. C. Haddon, in _Anthropological Essays presented to E.\nB. Tylor_, p. 186.]\n\n[Footnote 277: _Cambridge Anthropological Expedition to Torres Straits_,\nvi. 254 _sq._]\n\n[Footnote 278: _Cambridge Anthropological Expedition to Torres Straits_,\nvi. 254 _sqq._]\n\n[Footnote 279: A. C. Haddon, in _Anthropological Essays presented to E.\nB. Tylor_, p. 181.]\n\n[Footnote 280: _Cambridge Anthropological Expedition to Torres Straits_,\nv. 355 _sq._, vi. 251; A. C. Haddon, in _Anthropological Essays\npresented to E. B. Tylor_, p. 179.]\n\n[Footnote 281: For authorities see the references in the preceding\nnote.]\n\n[Footnote 282: _Cambridge Anthropological Expedition to Torres Straits_,\nvi. 253.]\n\n[Footnote 283: _Cambridge Anthropological Expedition to Torres Straits_,\nv. 248, 249.]\n\n[Footnote 284: _Id._, p. 250.]\n\n[Footnote 285: _Cambridge Anthropological Expedition to Torres Straits_,\nvi. 253; A. C. Haddon, in _Anthropological Essays presented to E. B.\nTylor_, p. 180.]\n\n[Footnote 286: A. C. Haddon, _l.c._]\n\n[Footnote 287: A. C. Haddon, _op. cit._ pp. 182 _sq._; _Cambridge\nAnthropological Expedition to Torres Straits_, vi. 127.]\n\n[Footnote 288: A. C. Haddon, _op. cit._ p. 183.]\n\n[Footnote 289: T. C. Hodson, _The Naga Tribes of Manipur_ (London,\n1911), p. 43.]\n\n[Footnote 290: _Cambridge Anthropological Expedition to Torres Straits_,\nv. 355 _sq._, vi. 252. In the former passage Dr. Haddon seems to\nidentify Boigu with the island of that name off the south coast of New\nGuinea; in the latter he prefers to regard it as mythical.]\n\n[Footnote 291: _Cambridge Anthropological Expedition to Torres Straits_,\nvi. 127.]\n\n[Footnote 292: _Cambridge Anthropological Expedition to Torres Straits_,\nv. 248 _sq._]\n\n[Footnote 293: _Cambridge Anthropological Expedition to Torres Straits_,\nv. 250 _sq._]\n\n[Footnote 294: Diodorus Siculus, i. 91.]\n\n[Footnote 295: _Cambridge Anthropological Expedition to Torres Straits_,\nv. 258.]\n\n[Footnote 296: _Id._, p. 362.]\n\n[Footnote 297: _Cambridge Anthropological Expedition to Torres Straits_,\nv. 252-256.]\n\n[Footnote 298: _Cambridge Anthropological Expedition to Torres Straits_,\nv. 256.]\n\n[Footnote 299: _Cambridge Anthropological Expedition to Torres Straits_,\nvi. 129-133.]\n\n[Footnote 300: _Cambridge Anthropological Expedition to Torres Straits_,\nvi. 133 _sq._]\n\n[Footnote 301: _Id._, pp. 135, 154.]\n\n[Footnote 302: (Sir) George Grey, _Journals of Two Expeditions of\nDiscovery in North-West and Western Australia_ (London, 1841), ii. 335.]\n\n[Footnote 303: _Cambridge Anthropological Expedition to Torres Straits_,\nvi. 135.]\n\n[Footnote 304: _Op. cit._ p. 136.]\n\n[Footnote 305: _Op. cit._ pp. 138, 153, 157 _sq._]\n\n[Footnote 306: _Op. cit._ pp. 154 _sq._]\n\n[Footnote 307: _Cambridge Anthropological Expedition to Torres Straits_,\nvi. 139-141.]\n\n[Footnote 308: _Cambridge Anthropological Expedition to Torres Straits_,\nvi. 148 _sq._ As to divination with skulls or waxen models, see _id._,\npp. 266 _sqq._]\n\n[Footnote 309: W. Ridgeway, _The Origin of Tragedy, with special\nreference to the Greek Tragedians_ (Cambridge, 1910), pp. 26 _sqq._]\n\n\n\n\nLECTURE IX\n\nTHE BELIEF IN IMMORTALITY AMONG THE NATIVES OF BRITISH NEW GUINEA\n\n\n[Sidenote: The two races of New Guinea, the Papuan and the Melanesian.]\n\nIn my last lecture I dealt with the islanders of Torres Straits, and\nshewed that these savages firmly believe in the existence of the human\nsoul after death, and that if their beliefs and customs in this respect\ndo not always amount to an actual worship of the departed, they contain\nat least the elements out of which such a worship might easily be\ndeveloped. To-day we pass from the small islands of Torres Straits to\nthe vast neighbouring island, almost continent, of New Guinea, the\ngreater part of which is inhabited by a race related by physical type\nand language to the Torres Straits Islanders, and exhibiting\napproximately the same level of social and intellectual culture. New\nGuinea, roughly speaking, appears to be occupied by two different races,\nto which the names of Papuan and Melanesian are now given; and it is to\nthe Papuan race, not to the Melanesian, that the Torres Straits\nIslanders are akin. The Papuans, a tall, dark-skinned, frizzly-haired\nrace, inhabit apparently the greater part of New Guinea, including the\nwhole of the western and central portions of the island. The\nMelanesians, a smaller, lighter-coloured, frizzly-haired race, inhabit\nthe long eastern peninsula, including the southern coast from about Cape\nPossession eastward,[310] and tribes speaking a Melanesian language are\nalso settled about Finsch Harbour and Huon Gulf in German New\nGuinea.[311] These Melanesians are most probably immigrants who have\nsettled in New Guinea from the north and east, where the great chain of\nislands known as Melanesia stretches in an immense semicircle from New\nIreland on the north to New Caledonia on the south-east. The natives of\nthis chain of islands or series of archipelagoes are the true\nMelanesians; their kinsmen in New Guinea have undergone admixture with\nthe Papuan aborigines, and accordingly should rather be called\nPapuo-Melanesians than Melanesians simply. Their country appears to be\nwholly comprised within the limits of British and German New Guinea; so\nfar as I am aware, the vast area of Dutch New Guinea is inhabited solely\nby tribes of the Papuan race. In respect of material culture both races\nstand approximately on the same level: they live in settled villages,\nthey practise agriculture, they engage in commerce, and they have a\nfairly developed barbaric art. Thus they have made some progress in the\ndirection of civilisation; certainly they have far outstripped the\nwandering savages of Australia, who subsist entirely on the products of\nthe chase and on the natural fruits of the earth.\n\n[Sidenote: Scantiness of our information as to the natives of New\nGuinea.]\n\nBut although the natives of New Guinea have now been under the rule of\nEuropean powers, Britain, Germany, and Holland, for many years, we\nunfortunately possess little detailed information as to their mental and\nsocial condition. It is true that the members of the Cambridge\nAnthropological Expedition to Torres Straits visited some parts of the\nsouthern coasts of British New Guinea, and several years later, in 1904,\nDr. Seligmann was able to devote somewhat more time to the investigation\nof the same region and has given us the results of his enquiries in a\nvaluable book. But the time at his disposal did not suffice for a\nthorough investigation of this large region; and accordingly his\ninformation, eked out though it is by that of Protestant and Catholic\nmissionaries, still leaves us in the dark as to much which we should\nwish to know. Among the natives of British New Guinea our information is\nespecially defective in regard to the Papuans, who occupy the greater\npart of the possession, including the whole of the western region; for\nDr. Seligmann's book, which is the most detailed and systematic work yet\npublished on the ethnology of British New Guinea, deals almost\nexclusively with the Melanesian portion of the population. Accordingly I\nshall begin what I have to say on this subject with the Melanesian or\nrather Papuo-Melanesian tribes of south-eastern New Guinea.\n\n[Sidenote: The Motu, their beliefs and customs concerning the dead.]\n\nAmongst these people the best known are the Motu, a tribe of fishermen\nand potters, who live in and about Port Moresby in the Central District\nof British New Guinea. Their language conforms to the Melanesian type.\nThey are immigrants, but the country from which they came is\nunknown.[312] In their opinion the spirits of the dead dwell in a happy\nland where parted friends meet again and never suffer hunger. They fish,\nhunt, and plant, and are just like living men, except that they have no\nnoses. When they first arrive in the mansions of the blest, they are\nlaid out to dry on a sort of gridiron over a slow fire in order to purge\naway the grossness of the body and make them ethereal and light, as\nspirits should be. Yet, oddly enough, though they have no noses they\ncannot enter the realms of bliss unless their noses were pierced in\ntheir lifetime. For these savages bore holes in their noses and insert\nornaments, or what they regard as such, in the holes. The operation is\nperformed on children about the age of six years; and if children die\nbefore it has been performed on them, the parents will bore a hole in\nthe nose of the corpse in order that the spirit of the child may go to\nthe happy land. For if they omitted to do so, the poor ghost would have\nto herd with other whole-nosed ghosts in a bad place called Tageani,\nwhere there is little food to eat and no betelnuts to chew. The spirits\nof the dead are very powerful and visit bad people with their\ndispleasure. Famine and scarcity of fish and game are attributed to the\nanger of the spirits. But they hearken to prayer and appear to their\nfriends in dreams, sometimes condescending to give them directions for\ntheir guidance in time of trouble.[313]\n\n[Sidenote: The Koita or Koitapu.]\n\nSide by side with the Motu live the Koita or Koitapu, who appear to be\nthe aboriginal inhabitants of the country and to belong to the Papuan\nstock. Their villages lie scattered for a distance of about forty miles\nalong the coast, from a point about seven miles south-east of Port\nMoresby to a point on Redscar Bay to the north-west of that settlement.\nThey live on friendly terms with the Motu and have intermarried with\nthem for generations. The villages of the two tribes are usually built\nnear to or even in direct continuity with each other. But while the Motu\nare mainly fishers and potters, the Koita are mainly tillers of the\nsoil, though they have learned some arts or adopted some customs from\ntheir neighbours. They say to the Motu, \"Yours is the sea, the canoes,\nthe nets; ours the land and the wallaby. Give us fish for our flesh, and\npottery for our yams and bananas.\" The Motu look down upon the Koita,\nbut fear their power of sorcery, and apply to them for help in sickness\nand for the weather they happen to require; for they imagine that the\nKoita rule the elements and can make rain or sunshine, wind or calm by\ntheir magic. Thus, as in so many cases, the members of the immigrant\nrace confess their inability to understand and manage the gods or\nspirits of the land, and have recourse in time of need to the magic of\nthe aboriginal inhabitants. While the Koita belong to the Papuan stock\nand speak a Papuan language, most of the men understand the Motu tongue,\nwhich is one of the Melanesian family. Altogether these two tribes, the\nKoita and the Motu, may be regarded as typical representatives of the\nmixed race to which the name of Papuo-Melanesian is now given.[314]\n\n[Sidenote: Beliefs of the Koita concerning the human soul.]\n\nThe Koita believe that the human spirit or ghost, which they call _sua_,\nleaves the body at death and goes away to live with other ghosts on a\nmountain called Idu. But they think that the spirit can quit the body\nand return to it during life; it goes away, for example, in dreams, and\nif a sleeper should unfortunately waken before his soul has had time to\nreturn, he will probably fall sick. Sneezing is a sign that the soul has\nreturned to the body, and if a man does not sneeze for many weeks\ntogether, his friends look on it as a grave symptom; his soul, they\nimagine, must be a very long way off.[315] Moreover, a man's soul may be\nenticed from his body and detained by a demon or _tabu_, as the Koita\ncall it. Thus, when a man who has been out in the forest returns home\nand shakes with fever, it is assumed that he has fallen down and been\nrobbed of his soul by a demon. In order to recover that priceless\npossession, the sufferer and his friends repair to the exact spot in the\nforest where the supposed robbery was perpetrated. They take with them a\nlong bamboo with some valuable ornaments tied to it, and two men support\nit horizontally over a pot which is filled with grass. A light is put to\nthe grass, and as it crackles and blazes a number of men standing round\nthe pot strike it with stones till it breaks, whereat they all groan.\nThen the company returns to the village, and the sick man lies down in\nhis house with the bamboo and its ornaments hung over him. This is\nsupposed to be all that is needed to effect a perfect cure; for the\ndemon has kindly accepted the soul of the ornaments and released the\nsoul of the sufferer, who ought to recover accordingly.[316]\n\n[Sidenote: Beliefs of the Koita concerning the state of the dead.\nAlleged communications with the dead by means of mediums.]\n\nHowever, at death the soul goes away for good and all; at least there\nappears to be no idea that it will ever return to life in the form of an\ninfant, as the souls of the Central Australian aborigines are supposed\nto do. All Koita ghosts live together on Mount Idu, and their life is\nvery like the one they led here on earth. There is no distinction\nbetween the good and the bad, the righteous and the wicked, the strong\nand the weak, the young and the old; they all fare alike in the\nspirit-land, with one exception. Like the Motu, the Koita are in the\nhabit of boring holes in their noses and inserting ornaments in the\nholes; and they think that if any person were so unfortunate as to be\nburied with his nose whole and entire, his ghost would have to go about\nin the other world with a creature like a slow-worm depending from his\nnostrils on either side. Hence, when anybody dies before the operation\nof nose-boring has been performed on him or her, the friends take care\nto bore a hole in the nose of the corpse in order that the ghost may not\nappear disfigured among his fellows in dead man's land. There the ghosts\ndwell in houses, cultivate gardens, marry wives, and amuse themselves\njust as they did here on earth. They live a long time, but not for ever;\nfor they grow weaker and weaker and at last die the second death, never\nto revive again, not even as ghosts. The exact length of time they live\nin the spirit-land has not been accurately ascertained; but there seems\nto be a notion that they survive only so long as their names and their\nmemories survive among the living. When these are utterly forgotten, the\npoor ghosts cease to exist. If that is so, it is obvious that the dead\ndepend for their continued existence upon the recollection of the\nliving; their names are in a sense their souls, so that oblivion of the\nname involves extinction of the soul.[317] But though the spirits of the\ndead go away to live for a time on Mount Idu, they often return to their\nnative villages and haunt the place of their death. On these visits they\nshew little benevolence or lovingkindness to their descendants. They\npunish any neglect in the performance of the funeral rites and any\ninfringement of tribal customs, and the punishment takes the form of\nsickness or of bad luck in hunting or fishing. This dread of the ghost\ncommonly leads the Koita to desert a house after a death and to let it\nfall into decay; but sometimes the widow, or in rare cases a brother or\nsister, will continue to inhabit the house of the deceased. Children who\nplay near dwellings which have been deserted on account of death may\nfall sick; and if people who are not members of the family partake of\nfood which has been hung up in such houses, they also may sicken. It is\nin dreams that the ghosts usually appear to the survivors; but\noccasionally they may be seen or at least felt by people in the waking\nstate. Some years ago four Motuan girls persuaded many natives of Port\nMoresby that they could evoke the spirit of a youth named Tamasi, who\nhad died three years before. The mother and other sorrowing relatives of\nthe deceased paid a high price to the principal medium, a young woman\nnamed Mea, for an interview with the ghost. The meeting took place in a\nhouse by night. The relations and friends squatted on the ground in\nexpectation; and sure enough the ghost presented himself in the darkness\nand went round shaking hands most affably with the assembled company.\nHowever, a sceptic who happened to assist at this spiritual sitting, had\nthe temerity to hold on tight to the proffered hand of the ghost, while\nanother infidel assisted him to obtain a sight as well as a touch of the\nvanished hand by striking a light. It then turned out that the supposed\napparition was no spirit but the medium Mea herself. She was brought\nbefore a magistrate, who sentenced her to a short term of imprisonment\nand relieved her of the property which she had amassed by the exercise\nof her spiritual talents.[318] It is hardly for us, or at least for some\nof us, to cast stones at the efforts of ignorant savages to communicate\nby means of such intermediaries with their departed friends. Similar\nattempts have been made in our own country within our lifetime, and I\nbelieve that they are still being made, in perfect good faith, by\neducated ladies and gentlemen, who like their black brethren and sisters\nin the faith are sometimes made the dupes of designing knaves. If New\nGuinea has its Meas, Europe has its Eusapias. Human credulity and vulgar\nimposture are much the same all the world over.\n\n[Sidenote: Fear of the dead.]\n\nThe fear of the dead is strongly marked in some funeral customs which\nare observed by the Roro-speaking tribes who occupy a territory at the\nmouth of the St. Joseph river in British New Guinea.[319] When a death\ntakes place, the female relations of the deceased lacerate their skulls,\nfaces, breasts, bellies, arms, and legs with sharp shells, till they\nstream with blood and fall down exhausted. Moreover, a fire is kindled\non the grave and kept up almost continually for months for the purpose,\nwe are told, of warming the ghost.[320] These attentions might be\ninterpreted as marks of affection rather than of fear; but in other\ncustoms of these people the dread of the ghost is unmistakable. For when\nthe corpse has been placed in the grave a near kinsman strokes it twice\nwith a branch from head to foot in order to drive away the dead man's\nspirit; and in Yule Island, when the ghost has thus been brushed away\nfrom the body, he is pursued by two men brandishing sticks and torches\nfrom the village to the edge of the forest, where with a last curse they\nhurl the sticks and torches after him.[321]\n\n[Sidenote: Ghost of dead wife feared by widower.]\n\nAmong these people the visits of ghosts, though frequent, are far from\nwelcome, for all ghosts are supposed to be mischievous and to take no\ndelight but in injuring the living. Hence, for example, a widower in\nmourning goes about everywhere armed with an axe to defend himself\nagainst the spirit of his dead wife, who might play him many an ill turn\nif she caught him defenceless and off his guard. And he is subject to\nmany curious restrictions and has to lead the life of an outcast from\nsociety, apparently because people fear to come into contact with a man\nwhose steps are dogged by so dangerous a spirit.[322] This account of\nthe terrors of ghosts we owe to a Catholic missionary. But according to\nthe information collected by Dr. Seligmann among these people the dread\ninspired by the souls of the dead is not so absolute. He tells us,\nindeed, that ghosts are thought to make people ill by stealing their\nsouls; that the natives fear to go alone outside the village in the dark\nlest they should encounter a spectre; and that if too many quarrels\noccur among the women, the spirits of the dead may manifest their\ndispleasure by visiting hunters and fishers with bad luck, so that it\nmay be necessary to conjure their souls out of the village. On the other\nhand, it is said that if the ghosts abandoned a village altogether, the\nluck of the villagers would be gone, and if such a thing is supposed to\nhave happened, measures are taken to bring back the spirits of the\ndeparted to the old home.[323]\n\n[Sidenote: Beliefs of the Mafulu concerning the dead.]\n\nInland from the Roro-speaking tribes, among the mountains at the head of\nthe St. Joseph River, there is a tribe known to their neighbours as the\nMafulu, though they call themselves Mambule. They speak a Papuan\nlanguage, but their physical characteristics are believed to indicate a\nstrain of Negrito blood.[324] The Mafulu hold that at death the human\nspirit leaves the body and becomes a malevolent ghost. Accordingly they\ndrive it away with shouts. It is supposed to go away to the tops of the\nmountains there to become, according to its age, either a shimmering\nlight on the ground or a large sort of fungus, which is found only on\nthe mountains. Hence natives who come across such a shimmering light or\nsuch a fungus are careful not to tread on it; much less would they eat\nthe fungus. However, in spite of their transformation into these things,\nthe ghosts come down from the mountains and prowl about the villages and\ngardens seeking what they may devour, and as their intentions are always\nevil their visits are dreaded by the people, who fill up the crevices\nand openings, except the doors, of their houses at night in order to\nprevent the incursions of these unquiet spirits. When a mission station\nwas founded in their country, the Mafulu were amazed that the\nmissionaries should sleep alone in rooms with open doors and windows,\nthrough which the ghosts might enter.[325]\n\n[Sidenote: Burial customs of the Mafulu.]\n\nCommon people among the Mafulu are buried in shallow graves in the\nvillage, and pigs are killed at the funeral for the purpose of appeasing\nthe ghost. Mourners wear necklaces of string and smear their faces,\nsometimes also their bodies, with black, which they renew from time to\ntime. Instead of wearing a necklace, a widow, widower, or other near\nrelative may abstain during the period of mourning from eating a\nfavourite food of the deceased. A woman who has lost a child, especially\na first-born or dearly loved child, will often amputate the first joint\nof one of her fingers with an adze; and she may repeat the amputation if\nshe suffers another bereavement. A woman has been seen with three of her\nfingers mutilated in this fashion.[326] The corpses of chiefs, their\nwives, and other members of their families are not buried in graves but\nlaid in rude coffins, which are then deposited either on rough platforms\nin the village or in the fork of a species of fig-tree. This sort of\ntree, called by the natives _gabi_, is specially used for such burials;\none of them has been seen supporting no less than six coffins, one above\nthe other. The Mafulu never cut down these trees, and in seeking a new\nsite for a village they will often choose a place where one of them is\ngrowing. So long as the corpse of a chief is rotting and stinking on the\nplatform or the tree, the village is deserted by the inhabitants; only\ntwo men, relatives of the deceased, remain behind exposed to the stench\nof the decaying body and the blood of the pigs which were slaughtered at\nthe funeral feast. When decomposition is complete, the people return to\nthe village. Should the coffin fall to the ground through the decay of\nthe platform or the tree on which it rests, the people throw away all\nthe bones except the skull and the larger bones of the arms and legs;\nthese they bury in a shallow grave under the platform, or put in a box\non a burial tree, or hang up in the chief's house.[327]\n\n[Sidenote: Use made of the skulls and bones at a great festival.]\n\nThe skulls and leg and arm bones of chiefs, their wives, and other\nmembers of their families, which have thus been preserved, play a\nprominent part in the great feasts which the inhabitants of a Mafulu\nvillage celebrate at intervals of perhaps fifteen or twenty years. Great\npreparations are made for such a celebration. A series of tall posts,\none for each household, is erected in the open space which intervenes\nbetween the two rows of the village houses. Yams and taro are fastened\nto the upper parts of the posts; and below them are hung in circles the\nskulls and arm and leg bones of dead chiefs, their wives, and kinsfolk,\nwhich have been preserved in the manner described. Any skulls and bones\nthat remain over when all the posts have been thus decorated are placed\non a platform, which has either served for the ordinary exposure of a\nchief's corpse or has been specially erected for the purpose of the\nfestival. At a given moment of the ceremony the chief of the clan cuts\ndown the props which support the platform, so that the skulls and bones\nroll on the ground. These are picked up and afterwards distributed,\nalong with some of the skulls and bones from the posts, by the chief of\nthe clan to the more important of the invited guests, who wear them as\nornaments on their arms in a great dance. None but certain of the male\nguests take part in the dance; the villagers themselves merely look on.\nAll the dancers are arrayed in full dancing costume, including heavy\nhead-dresses of feathers, and they carry drums and spears, sometimes\nalso clubs or adzes. The dance lasts the whole night. When it is over,\nthe skulls and bones are hung up again on the tall posts. Afterwards the\nfruits and vegetables which have been collected in large quantities are\ndivided among the guests. On a subsequent morning a large number of pigs\nare killed, and certain of the hosts take some of the human bones from\nthe posts and dip them in the blood which flows from the mouths of the\nslaughtered pigs. With these blood-stained bones they next touch the\nskulls and all the other bones on the posts, which include all the\nskulls and arm and leg bones of all the chiefs and members of their\nfamilies and other prominent persons who have been buried in the village\nor in any other village of the community since the last great feast was\nheld. These relics of mortality may afterwards be kept in the chief's\nhouse, or hung on a tree, or simply thrown away in the forest; but in no\ncase are they ever again used for purposes of ceremony. The slaughtered\npigs are cut up and the portions distributed among the guests, who carry\nthem away for consumption in their own villages.[328]\n\n[Sidenote: Trace of ancestor worship among the Mafulu.]\n\nThis preservation of the skulls and bones of chiefs and other notables\nfor years, and the dipping of them in the blood of pigs at a great\nfestival, must apparently be designed to propitiate or influence in some\nway the ghosts of the persons to whom the skulls and bones belonged in\ntheir lifetime. But Mr. R. W. Williamson, to whom we are indebted for\nthe description of this interesting ceremony, was not able to detect any\nother clear indications of ancestor worship among the people.[329]\n\n[Sidenote: Worship of the dead among the natives of the Aroma district.]\n\nHowever, a real worship of the dead, or something approaching to it, is\nreported to exist among some of the natives of the Aroma district in\nBritish New Guinea. Each family is said to have a sacred place, whither\nthey carry offerings for the spirits of dead ancestors, whom they\nterribly fear. Sickness in the family, death, famine, scarcity of fish,\nand so forth, are all set down to the anger of these dreadful beings,\nwho must accordingly be propitiated. On certain occasions the help of\nthe spirits is especially invoked and their favour wooed by means of\nofferings. Thus, when a house is being built and the central post has\nbeen erected, sacrifices of wallaby, fish, and bananas are presented to\nthe souls of the dead, and a prayer is put up that they will be pleased\nto keep the house always full of food and to prevent it from falling\ndown in stormy weather. Again, when the natives begin to plant their\ngardens, they first take a bunch of bananas and sugar-cane and standing\nin the middle of the garden call over the names of dead members of the\nfamily, adding, \"There is your food, your bananas and sugar-cane; let\nour food grow well, and let it be plentiful. If it does not grow well\nand plentifully, you all will be full of shame, and so shall we.\" Again,\nbefore the people set out on a trading expedition, they present food to\nthe spirits at the central post of the house and pray them to go before\nthe traders and prepare the people, so that the trade may be good. Once\nmore, when there is sickness in the family, a pig is killed and its\ncarcase carried to the sacred place, where the spirits are asked to\naccept it. Sins, also, are confessed, such as that people have gathered\nbananas or coco-nuts without offering any of them to their dead\nancestors. In presenting the pig they say, \"There is a pig; accept it,\nand remove the sickness.\" But if prayers and sacrifices are vain, and\nthe patient dies, then, while the relatives all stand round the open\ngrave, the chief's sister or cousin calls out in a loud voice: \"You have\nbeen angry with us for the bananas or the coco-nuts which we have\ngathered, and in your anger you have taken away this child. Now let it\nsuffice, and bury your anger.\" So saying they lower the body into the\ngrave and shovel in the earth on the top of it. The spirits of the\ndeparted, on quitting their bodies, paddle in canoes across the lagoon\nand go away to the mountains, where they live in perfect bliss, with no\nwork to do and no trouble to vex them, chewing betel, dancing all night\nand resting all day.[330]\n\n[Sidenote: The Hood Peninsula. The town of Kalo.]\n\nBetween the Aroma District in the south-east and Port Moresby on the\nnorth-west is situated the Hood Peninsula in the Central District of\nBritish New Guinea. It is inhabited by the Bulaa, Babaka, Kamali, and\nKalo tribes, which all speak dialects of one language.[331] The village\nor town of Kalo, built at the base of the peninsula, close to the mouth\nof the Vanigela or Kemp Welch River, is said to be the wealthiest\nvillage in British New Guinea. It includes some magnificent native\nhouses, all built over the water on piles, some of which are thirty feet\nhigh. The sight of these great houses perched on such lofty and massive\nprops is very impressive. In front of each house is a series of large\nplatforms like gigantic steps. Some of the posts and under-surfaces of\nthe houses are carved with figures of crocodiles and so forth. The\nlabour of cutting the huge planks for the flooring of the houses and the\nplatforms must be immense, and must have been still greater in the old\ndays, when the natives had only stone tools to work with. Many of the\nplanks are cut out of the slab-like buttresses of tall forest trees\nwhich grow inland. So hard is the wood that the boards are handed down\nas heirlooms from father to son, and the piles on which the houses are\nbuilt last for generations. The inhabitants of Kalo possess gardens,\nwhere the rich alluvial soil produces a superabundance of coco-nuts,\nbananas, yams, sweet potatoes, and taro. Areca palms also flourish and\nproduce the betel nuts, which are in great demand for chewing with\nquick-lime and so constitute a source of wealth. Commanding the mouth of\nthe Vanigela River, the people of Kalo absorb the trade with the\ninterior; and their material prosperity is said to have rendered them\nconceited and troublesome.[332]\n\n[Sidenote: Beliefs and customs concerning the dead among the natives of\nthe Hood Peninsula. Seclusion of the widow or widower.]\n\nThe tribes inhabiting the Hood Peninsula are reported to have no belief\nin any good spirit but an unlimited faith in bad spirits, amongst whom\nthey include the souls of their dead ancestors. At death the ghosts join\ntheir forefathers in a subterranean region, where they have splendid\ngardens, houses, and so forth. Yet not content with their life in the\nunderworld, they are always on the watch to deal out sickness and death\nto their surviving friends and relations, who may have the misfortune to\nincur their displeasure. So the natives are most careful to do nothing\nthat might offend these touchy and dangerous spirits. Like many other\nsavages, they do not believe that anybody dies a natural death; they\nthink that all the deaths which we should call natural are brought about\neither by an ancestral ghost (_palagu_) or by a sorcerer or witch\n(_wara_). Even when a man dies of snake-bite, they detect in the\ndiscoloration of the body the wounds inflicted upon him by the fell art\nof the magician.[333] On the approach of death the house of the sick man\nis filled by anxious relatives and friends, who sit around watching for\nthe end. When it comes, there is a tremendous outburst of grief. The men\nbeat their faces with their clenched fists; the women tear their cheeks\nwith their nails till the blood streams down. They usually bury their\ndead in graves, which among the inland tribes are commonly dug near the\nhouses of the deceased. The maritime tribes, who live in houses built on\npiles over the water, sometimes inter the corpse in the forest. But at\nother times they place it in a canoe, which they anchor off the village.\nThen, when the body has dried up, they lay it on a platform in a tree.\nFinally, they collect and clean the bones, tie them in a bundle, and\nplace them on the roof of the house. When the corpse is buried, a\ntemporary hut is erected over the grave, and in it the widow or widower\nlives in seclusion for two or three months. During her seclusion the\nwidow employs herself in fashioning her widow's weeds, which consist of\na long grass petticoat reaching to the ankles. She wears a large\nhead-dress made of shells; her head is shaved, and her body blackened.\nFurther, she wears round her neck the waistband of her deceased husband\nwith his lower jaw-bone attached to it. The costume of a widower is\nsomewhat similar, though he does not wear a long grass petticoat.\nInstead of it he has a graceful fringe, which hangs from his waist half\nway to the knees. On his head he wears an elaborate head-dress made of\nshells, and on his arms he has armlets of the same material. His hair is\ncut off and his whole skin blackened. Round his neck is a string, from\nwhich depends his dead wife's petticoat. It is sewn up into small bulk\nand hangs under his right arm. While the widow or widower is living in\nseclusion on the grave, he or she is supplied with food by relations. At\nsundown on the day of the burial, a curious ceremony is performed. An\nold woman or man, supposed to be gifted with second-sight, is sent for.\nSeating herself at the foot of the grave she peers into the deepening\nshadows under the coco-nut palms. At first she remains perfectly still,\nwhile the relations of the deceased watch her with painful anxiety. Soon\nher look becomes more piercing, and lowering her head, while she still\ngazes into the depth of the forest, she says in low and solemn tones, \"I\nsee coming hither So-and-So's grandfather\" (mentioning the name of the\ndead person). \"He says he is glad to welcome his grandson to his abode.\nI see now his father and his own little son also, who died in infancy.\"\nGradually, she grows more and more excited, waving her arms and swaying\nher body from side to side. \"Now they come,\" she cries, \"I can see all\nour forefathers in a fast-gathering crowd. They are coming closer and\nyet closer. Make room, make room for the spirits of our departed\nancestors.\" By this time she has worked herself up into a frenzy. She\nthrows herself on the ground, beating her head with her clenched fists.\nFoam flies from her lips, her eyes become fixed, and she rolls over\ninsensible. But the fit lasts only a short time. She soon comes to\nherself; the vision is past, and the visionary is restored to common\nlife.[334]\n\n[Sidenote: Application of the juices of the dead to the persons of the\nliving.]\n\nSome of the inland tribes of this district have a peculiar way of\ndisposing of their dead. A double platform about ten feet high is\nerected near the village. On the upper platform the corpse is placed,\nand immediately below it the widow or widower sleeps on the lower\nplatform, allowing juices of the decaying body to stream down on her or\nhim. This application of the decomposing juices of a corpse to the\npersons of the living is not uncommon among savages; it appears to be a\nform of communion with the dead, the survivors thus in a manner\nidentifying themselves with their departed kinsfolk by absorbing a\nportion of their bodily substance. Among the tribes in question a\nwidower marks his affection for his dead wife by never washing himself\nduring the period of mourning; he would not rid himself of those\nproducts of decomposition which link him, however sadly, with her whom\nhe has lost. Every day, too, reeking with these relics of mortality, he\nsolemnly stalks through the village.[335]\n\n[Sidenote: Precautions taken by man-slayers against the ghosts of their\nvictims.]\n\nBut there is a distinction between ghosts. If all of them are feared,\nsome are more dreadful than others, and amongst the latter may naturally\nbe reckoned the ghosts of slain enemies. Accordingly the slayer has to\nobserve special precautions to guard against the angry and vengeful\nspirit of his victim. Amongst these people, we are told, a man who has\ntaken life is held to be impure until he has undergone certain\nceremonies. As soon as possible after the deed is done, he cleanses\nhimself and his weapon. Then he repairs to his village and seats himself\non the logs of sacrificial staging. No one approaches him or takes any\nnotice whatever of him. Meantime a house is made ready, in which he must\nlive by himself for several days, waited on only by two or three small\nboys. He may eat nothing but toasted bananas, and only the central parts\nof them; the ends are thrown away. On the third day a small feast is\nprepared for him by his friends, who also provide him with some new\nwaistbands. Next day, arrayed in all his finery and wearing the badges\nwhich mark him as a homicide, he sallies forth fully armed and parades\nthe village. Next day a hunt takes place, and from the game captured a\nkangaroo is selected. It is cut open, and with its spleen and liver the\nback of the homicide is rubbed. Then he walks solemnly down to the\nnearest water and standing straddle-legs in it washes himself. All young\nuntried warriors then swim between his legs, which is supposed to impart\nhis courage and strength to them. Next day at early dawn he dashes out\nof his house fully armed and calls aloud the name of his victim. Having\nsatisfied himself that he has thoroughly scared the ghost of the dead\nman, he returns to his house. Further, floors are beaten and fires\nkindled for the sake of driving away the ghost, lest he should still be\nlingering in the neighbourhood. A day later the purification of the\nhomicide is complete and he is free to enter his wife's house, which he\nmight not do before.[336] This account of the purification of a homicide\nsuggests that the purificatory rites, which have been observed in\nsimilar cases by many peoples, including the ancient Greeks, are\nprimarily intended to free the slayer from the dangerous ghost of his\nvictim, which haunts him and seeks to take his life. Such rites in fact\nappear designed, not to restore the homicide to a state of moral\ninnocence, but merely to guard him against a physical danger; they are\nprotective, not reformatory, in character; they are exorcisms, not\npurifications in the sense which we attach to the word. This\ninterpretation of the ceremonies observed by manslayers among many\npeoples might be supported by a large array of evidence; but to go into\nthe matter fully would lead me into a long digression. I have collected\nsome of the evidence elsewhere.[337]\n\n[Sidenote: Beliefs and customs concerning the dead among the Massim of\nsouth-eastern New Guinea. Hiyoyoa, the land of the dead. Mourners bathe\nand shave their heads. Food deposited in the grave. Dietary restrictions\nimposed on mourners.]\n\nWe now pass to that branch of the Papuo-Melanesian race which occupies\nthe extreme south-eastern part of British New Guinea, and to which Dr.\nSeligmann gives the name of Massim. These people have been observed more\nespecially at three places, namely Bartle Bay, Wagawaga, and Tubetube, a\nsmall island of the Engineer group lying off the south-eastern extremity\nof New Guinea. Among them the old custom was to bury the dead on the\noutskirts of the hamlet and sometimes within a few yards of the houses,\nand apparently the remains were afterwards as a rule left undisturbed;\nthere was no general practice of exhuming the bones and depositing them\nelsewhere.[338] At Wagawaga the name for the spirit or soul of a dead\nperson is _arugo_, which also signifies a man's shadow or reflection in\na glass or in water; and though animals and trees are not supposed to\nhave spirits, their reflections bear the same name _arugo_.[339] The\nsouls of the dead are believed to depart to the land of Hiyoyoa, which\nis under the sea, near Maivara, at the head of Milne Bay. The land of\nthe dead, as usual, resembles in all respects the land of the living,\nexcept that it is day there when it is night at Wagawaga, and the dead\nspeak of the upper world in the language of Milne Bay instead of in that\nof Wagawaga. A certain being called Tumudurere receives the ghosts on\ntheir arrival and directs them where to make their gardens. The souls of\nliving men and women can journey to the land of the dead and return to\nearth; indeed this happens not unfrequently. There is a man at Wagawaga\nwho has often gone thither and come back; whenever he wishes to make the\njourney, he has nothing to do but to smear himself with a magical stuff\nand to fall asleep, after which he soon wakes up in Hiyoyoa. At first\nthe ghosts whom he met in the other world did not invite him to partake\nof their food, because they knew that if he did so he could not return\nto the land of the living; but apparently practice has rendered him\nimmune to the usually fatal effects of the food of the dead.[340] Though\nHiyoyoa, at the head of Milne Bay, lies to the west of Wagawaga, the\ndead are buried in a squatting posture with their faces turned to the\neast, in order that their souls may depart to the other world.[341]\nImmediately after the funeral the relations who have taken part in the\nburial go down to the sea and bathe, and so do the widow and children of\nthe deceased because they supported the dying husband and father in his\nextremity. After bathing in the sea the widow and children shave their\nheads.[342] Both the bathing and the shaving are doubtless forms of\nceremonial purification; in other words, they are designed to rid the\nsurvivors of the taint of death, or perhaps more definitely to remove\nthe ghost from their persons, to which he may be supposed to cling like\na burr. At Bartle Bay the dead are buried on their sides with their\nheads pointing in the direction from which the totem clan of the\ndeceased is said to have come originally; and various kinds of food, of\nwhich the dead man had partaken in his last illness, are deposited,\nalong with some paltry personal ornaments, in the grave. Apparently the\nfood is intended to serve as provision for the ghost on his journey to\nthe other world. Curiously enough, the widow is forbidden to eat of the\nsame kinds of food of which her husband ate during his last illness, and\nthe prohibition is strictly observed until after the last of the funeral\nfeasts.[343] The motive of the prohibition is not obvious; perhaps it\nmay be a fear of attracting the ghost back to earth through the savoury\nfood which he loved in the body. At Wagawaga, after the relatives who\ntook part in the burial have bathed in the sea, they cut down several of\nthe coco-nut trees which belonged to the deceased, leaving both nuts and\ntrees to rot on the ground. During the first two or three weeks after\nthe funeral these same relatives may not eat boiled food, but only\nroast; they may not drink water, but only the milk of young coco-nuts\nmade hot, and although they may eat yams they must abstain from bananas\nand sugar-cane.[344] A man may not eat coco-nuts grown in his dead\nfather's hamlet, nor pigs and areca-nuts from it during the whole\nremainder of his life.[345] The reasons for these dietary restrictions\nare not mentioned, but no doubt the abstinences are based on a fear of\nthe ghost, or at all events on a dread of the contagion of death, to\nwhich all who had a share in the burial are especially exposed.\n\n[Sidenote: Funeral customs at Tubetube. The fire on the grave. The happy\nland.]\n\nAt Tubetube, in like manner, immediately after a funeral a brother of\nthe deceased cuts down two or three of the dead man's coco-nut trees.\nThere, also, the children of the deceased may not eat any coco-nuts from\ntheir father's trees nor even from any trees grown in his hamlet; nay,\nthey may not partake of any garden produce grown in the vicinity of the\nhamlet; and similarly they must abstain from the pork of all pigs\nfattened in their dead father's village. But these prohibitions do not\napply to the brothers, sisters, and other relatives of the departed. The\nrelations who have assisted at the burial remain at the grave for five\nor six days, being fed by the brothers or other near kinsfolk of the\ndeceased. They may not quit the spot even at night, and if it rains they\nhuddle into a shelter built over the grave. During their vigil at the\ntomb they may not drink water, but are allowed a little heated coco-nut\nmilk; they are supposed to eat only a little yam and other vegetable\nfood.[346] On the day when the body is buried a fire is kindled at the\ngrave and kept burning night and day until the feast of the dead has\nbeen held. \"The reason for having the fire is that the spirit may be\nable to get warm when it rises from the grave. The natives regard the\nspirit as being very cold, even as the body is when the life has\ndeparted from it, and without this external warmth provided by the fire\nit would be unable to undertake the journey to its final home. The feast\nfor the dead is celebrated when the flesh has decayed, and in some\nplaces the skull is taken from the grave, washed and placed in the\nhouse, being buried again when the feast is over. At Tubetube this\ncustom of taking the skull from the grave is not regularly followed, in\nsome instances it is, but the feast is always held, and on the night of\nthe day on which the feast takes place, the fire, which has been in some\ncases kept burning for over a month, is allowed to burn out, as the\nspirit, being now safe and happy in the spirit-land, has no further need\nof it.\"[347] \"In this spirit-land eternal youth prevails, there are no\nold men nor old women, but all are in the full vigour of the prime of\nlife, or are attaining thereto, and having reached that stage never grow\nolder. Old men and old women, who die as such on Tubetube, renew their\nyouth in this happy place, where there are no more sickness, no evil\nspirits, and no death. Marriage, and giving in marriage, continue; if a\nman dies, his widow, though she may have married again, is at her death\nre-united to her first husband in the spirit-land, and the second\nhusband when he arrives has to take one of the women already there who\nmay be without a mate, unless he marries again before his death, in\nwhich case he would have to wait until his wife joins him. Children are\nborn, and on arriving at maturity do not grow older. Houses are built,\ncanoes are made but they are never launched, and gardens are planted and\nyield abundantly. The spirits of their animals, dogs, pigs, etc., which\nhave died on Tubetube, precede and follow them to the spirit-land.\nFighting and stealing are unknown, and all are united in a common\nbrotherhood.\"[348]\n\n[Sidenote: The names of the dead not mentioned.]\n\nIn the south-eastern part of New Guinea the fear of the dead is further\nmanifested by the common custom of avoiding the mention of their names.\nIf their names were those of common objects, the words are dropped from\nthe language of the district so long as the memory of the departed\npersists, and new names are substituted for them. For example, when a\nman named Binama, which means the hornbill, died at Wagawaga, the name\nof the bird was changed to _ambadina_, which means \"the plasterer.\"[349]\nIn this way many words are either permanently lost or revived with\nmodified or new meanings. Hence the fear of the dead is here, as in many\nother places, a fertile source of change in language. Another indication\nof the terror inspired by ghosts is the custom of abandoning or\ndestroying the house in which a death has taken place; and this custom\nused to be observed in certain cases at Tubetube and Wagawaga.[350]\n\n[Sidenote: Beliefs and customs concerning the dead in the island of\nKiwai.]\n\nThus far I have dealt mainly with the beliefs and practices of the\nPapuo-Melanesians in the eastern part of British New Guinea. With regard\nto the pure Papuan population in the western part of the possession our\ninformation is much scantier. However, we learn that in Kiwai, a large\nisland at the mouth of the Fly River, the dead are buried in the\nvillages and the ghosts are supposed to live in the ground near their\ndecaying bodies, but to emerge from time to time into the upper air and\nlook about them, only, however, to return to their abode beneath the\nsod. Nothing is buried with the corpse; but a small platform is made\nover the grave, or sticks are planted in the ground along its sides, and\non these are placed sago, yams, bananas, coco-nuts, and cooked crabs and\nfish, all for the spirit of the dead to eat. A fire is also kindled\nbeside the grave and kept up by the friends for nine days in order that\nthe poor ghost may not shiver with cold at night. These practices prove\nnot merely a belief in the survival of the soul after death but a desire\nto make it comfortable. Further, when the deceased is a man, his bow and\narrows are stuck at the head of the grave; when the deceased is a woman,\nher petticoat is hung upon a stick. No doubt the weapons and the garment\nare intended for the use of the ghost, when he or she revisits the upper\nair. On the ninth day after the burial a feast is prepared, the drum is\nbeaten, the conch shell blown, and the chief mourner declares that no\nmore fires need be lighted and no more food placed on the grave.[351]\n\n[Sidenote: Adiri, the land of the dead, and Sido, the first man who went\nthither. The fear of ghosts.]\n\nAccording to the natives of Kiwai the land of the dead is called Adiri\nor Woibu. The first man to go thither and to open up a road for others\nto follow him, was Sido, a popular hero about whom the people tell many\ntales. But whereas in his lifetime Sido was an admired and beneficent\nbeing, in his ghostly character he became a mischievous elf who played\npranks on such as he fell in with. His adventures after death furnish\nthe theme of many stories. However, it is much to his credit that,\nfinding the land of the dead a barren region without vegetation of any\nsort, he, by an act of generation, converted it into a garden, where\nbananas, yams, taro, coco-nuts and other fruits and vegetables grew and\nripened in a single night. Having thus fertilised the lower region, he\nannounced to Adiri, the lord of the subterranean realm, that he was the\nprecursor of many more men and women who would descend thereafter into\nthe spirit world. His prediction has been amply fulfilled; for ever\nsince then everybody has gone by the same road to the same place.[352]\nHowever, when a person dies, his or her spirit may linger for a few days\nin the neighbourhood of its old home before setting out for the far\ncountry. During that time the spirit may occasionally be seen by\nordinary people, and accordingly the natives are careful not to go out\nin the dark for fear of coming bolt on the ghost; and they sometimes\nadopt other precautions against the prowling spectre, who might\notherwise haunt them and carry them off with him to deadland. Some\nclasses of ghosts are particularly dreaded on account of their\nmalignity; such, for example, are the spirits of women who have died in\nchildbed, and of people who have hanged themselves or been devoured by\ncrocodiles. Such ghosts loiter for a long time about the places where\nthey died, and they are very dangerous, because they are for ever luring\nother people to die the same death which they died themselves. Yet\nanother troop of evil ghosts are the souls of those who were beheaded in\nbattle; for they kill and devour people, and at night you may see the\nblood shining like fire as it gushes from the gaping gashes in their\nthroats.[353]\n\n[Sidenote: The path of the ghosts to Adiri. Adiri, the land of the\ndead.]\n\nThe road to Adiri or deadland is fairly well known, and the people can\npoint to many landmarks on it. For example, in the island of Paho there\nis a tree called _dani_, under which the departing spirits sit down and\nweep. When they have cried their fill and rubbed their poor\ntear-bedraggled faces with mud, they make little pellets of clay and\nthrow them at the tree, and anybody can see for himself the pellets\nsticking to the branches. It is true that the pellets resemble the nests\nof insects, but this resemblance is only fortuitous. Near the tree is a\nrocking stone, which the ghosts set in motion, and the sound that they\nmake in so doing is like the muffled roll of a drum. And while the stone\nrocks to and fro with a hollow murmur, the ghosts dance, the men on one\nside of the stone and the women on the other. Again at Mabudavane, where\nthe Mawata people have gardens, you may sometimes hear, in the stillness\nof night, the same weird murmur, which indicates the presence of a\nghost. Then everybody keeps quiet, the children are hushed to silence,\nand all listen intently. The murmur continues for a time and then ends\nabruptly in a splash, which tells the listeners that the ghost has\nleaped over the muddy creek. Further on, the spirits come to Boigu,\nwhere they swim in the waterhole and often appear to people in their\nreal shape. But after Boigu the track of the ghosts is lost, or at least\nhas not been clearly ascertained. The spirit world lies somewhere away\nin the far west, but the living are not quite sure of the way to it, and\nthey are somewhat vague in their accounts of it. There is no difference\nbetween the fate of the good and the fate of the bad in the far country;\nthe dead meet the friends who died before them; and people who come from\nthe same village probably live together in the same rooms of the long\nhouse of the ghosts. However, some native sceptics even doubt whether\nthere is such a place as Adiri at all, and whether death may not be the\nend of consciousness to the individual.[354]\n\n[Sidenote: Appearance of the dead to the living in dreams.]\n\nThe dead often appear to the living in dreams, warning them of danger or\nfurnishing them with useful information with regard to the cultivation\nof their gardens, the practice of witchcraft, and so on. In order to\nobtain advice from his dead parents a man will sometimes dig up their\nskulls from the grave and sleep beside them; and to make sure of\nreceiving their prompt attention he will not infrequently provide\nhimself with a cudgel, with which he threatens to smash their skulls if\nthey do not answer his questions. Some persons possess a special faculty\nof communicating with the departing spirit of a person who has just\ndied. Should they desire to question it they will lurk beside the road\nwhich ghosts are known to take; and in order not to be betrayed by their\nsmell, which is very perceptible to a ghost, they will chew the leaf or\nbark of a certain tree and spit the juice over their bodies. Then the\nghost cannot detect them, or rather he takes them to be ghosts like\nhimself, and accordingly he may in confidence impart to them most\nvaluable information, such for example as full particulars with regard\nto the real cause of his death. This priceless intelligence the\nghost-seer hastens to communicate to his fellow tribesmen.[355]\n\n[Sidenote: Offerings to the dead.]\n\nWhen a man has just died and been buried, his surviving relatives lay\nsome of his weapons and ornaments, together with presents of food, upon\nhis grave, no doubt for the use of the ghost; but some of these things\nthey afterwards remove and bring back to the village, probably\nconsidering, with justice, that they will be more useful to the living\nthan to the dead. But offerings to the dead may be presented to them at\nother places than their tombs. \"The great power,\" says Dr. Landtman,\n\"which the dead represent to the living has given rise to a sort of\nsimple offering to them, almost the only kind of offering met with among\nthe Kiwai Papuans. The natives occasionally lay down presents of food at\nplaces to which spirits come, and utter some request for assistance\nwhich the spirits are supposed to hear.\"[356] In such offerings and\nprayers we may detect the elements of a regular worship of the dead.\n\n[Sidenote: Dreams as a source of the belief in immortality.]\n\nWith regard to the source of these beliefs among the Kiwai people Dr.\nLandtman observes that \"undoubtedly dreams have largely contributed in\nsupplying the natives with ideas about Adiri and life after death. A\ngreat number of dreams collected by me among the Kiwai people tell of\nwanderings to Adiri or of meetings with spirits of dead men, and as\ndreams are believed to describe the real things which the soul sees\nwhile roaming about outside the body, we understand that they must\ngreatly influence the imagination of the people.\"[357]\n\nThat concludes what I have to say as to the belief in immortality and\nthe worship of the dead among the natives of British New Guinea. In the\nfollowing lectures I shall deal with the same rudimentary aspect of\nreligion as it is reported to exist among the aborigines of the vast\nregions of German and Dutch New Guinea.\n\n[Footnote 310: C. G. Seligmann, _The Melanesians of British New Guinea_\n(Cambridge, 1910), pp. 1 _sq._]\n\n[Footnote 311: See below, pp. 242, 256, 261 _sq._, 291.]\n\n[Footnote 312: A. C. Haddon, _Headhunters, Black, White, and Brown_\n(London, 1901), pp. 249 _sq._ As to the Motu and their Melanesian or\nPolynesian affinities, see Rev. W. Y. Turner, \"The Ethnology of the\nMotu,\" _Journal of the Anthropological Institute_, vii. (1878) pp. 470\n_sqq._]\n\n[Footnote 313: Rev. J. Chalmers, _Pioneering in New Guinea_ (London,\n1887), pp. 168-170. Compare Rev. W. Y. Turner, \"The Ethnology of the\nMotu,\" _Journal of the Anthropological Institute_, vii. (1878) pp. 484\n_sqq._; Rev. W. G. Lawes, \"Ethnological Notes on the Motu, Koitapu and\nKoiari Tribes of New Guinea,\" _Journal of the Anthropological\nInstitute_, viii. (1879) pp. 370 _sq._]\n\n[Footnote 314: A. C. Haddon, _Headhunters, Black, White, and Brown_, pp.\n249 _sq._; C. G. Seligmann, _The Melanesians of British New Guinea_, pp.\n16, 41. As to the Koita (or Koitapu) and the Motu, see further the Rev.\nW. Y. Turner, \"The Ethnology of the Motu,\" _Journal of the\nAnthropological Institute_, vii. (1878) pp. 470 _sqq._; Rev. W. G.\nLawes, \"Ethnological Notes on the Motu, Koitapu and Koiari Tribes of New\nGuinea,\" _Journal of the Anthropological Institute_, viii. (1879) pp.\n369 _sq._]\n\n[Footnote 315: C. G. Seligmann, _op. cit._ pp. 189-191.]\n\n[Footnote 316: C. G. Seligmann, _op. cit._ pp. 185 _sq._]\n\n[Footnote 317: C. G. Seligmann, _op. cit._ p. 192.]\n\n[Footnote 318: C. G. Seligmann, _op. cit._ pp. 190-192. As to the\ndesertion of the house after death, see _id._, pp. 89 _sq._]\n\n[Footnote 319: The territory of the Roro-speaking tribes extends from\nKevori, east of Waimatuma (Cape Possession), to Hiziu in the\nneighbourhood of Galley Reach. Inland of these tribes lies a region\ncalled by them Mekeo, which is inhabited by two closely related tribes,\nthe Biofa and Vee. Off the coast lies Yule Island, which is commonly\ncalled Roro. See C. G. Seligmann, _op. cit._ p. 195.]\n\n[Footnote 320: V. Jouet, _La Societe des Missionaires du Sacre Coeur\ndans les Vicariats Apostoliques de la Melanesie et de la Micronesie_\n(Issoudun, 1887), p. 30; Father Guis, \"Les Canaques: Mort-deuil,\"\n_Missions Catholiques_, xxxiv. (1902) pp. 186, 200.]\n\n[Footnote 321: C. G. Seligmann, _op. cit._ pp. 274 _sq._]\n\n[Footnote 322: Father Guis, \"Les Canaques: Mort-deuil,\" _Missions\nCatholiques_, xxxiv. (1902) pp. 208 _sq._ See _Psyche's Task_, pp. 75\n_sq._]\n\n[Footnote 323: C. G. Seligmann, _op. cit._ p. 310.]\n\n[Footnote 324: R. W. Williamson, _The Mafulu Mountain People of British\nNew Guinea_ (London, 1912), pp. 2 _sq._, 297 _sqq._]\n\n[Footnote 325: R. W. Williamson, _op. cit._ pp. 243 _sq._, 246,\n266-269.]\n\n[Footnote 326: R. W. Williamson, _op. cit._ pp. 245-250.]\n\n[Footnote 327: R. W. Williamson, _op. cit._ pp. 256-258, 261-263.]\n\n[Footnote 328: R. W. Williamson, _op. cit._ pp. 125-152.]\n\n[Footnote 329: R. W. Williamson, _op. cit._ pp. 270 _sq._]\n\n[Footnote 330: J. Chalmers and W. Wyatt Gill, _Work and Adventure in New\nGuinea_ (London, 1885), pp. 84-86.]\n\n[Footnote 331: R. E. Guise, \"On the Tribes inhabiting the Mouth of the\nWanigela River, New Guinea,\" _Journal of the Anthropological Institute_,\nxxviii. (1899) p. 205.]\n\n[Footnote 332: A. C. Haddon, _Headhunters, Black, White, and Brown_, p.\n213.]\n\n[Footnote 333: R. E. Guise, _op. cit._ pp. 216 _sq._]\n\n[Footnote 334: R. E. Guise, _op. cit._ pp. 210 _sq._]\n\n[Footnote 335: R. E. Guise, _op. cit._ p. 211.]\n\n[Footnote 336: R. E. Guise, _op. cit._ pp. 213 _sq._]\n\n[Footnote 337: _Psyche's Task_, pp. 52 _sqq._; _Taboo and the Perils of\nthe Soul_, pp. 167 _sqq._]\n\n[Footnote 338: C. G. Seligmann, _The Melanesians of British New Guinea_,\np. 607.]\n\n[Footnote 339: C. G. Seligmann, _op. cit._ p. 655.]\n\n[Footnote 340: C. G. Seligmann, _op. cit._ pp. 655 _sq._]\n\n[Footnote 341: C. G. Seligmann, _op. cit._ p. 610.]\n\n[Footnote 342: C. G. Seligmann, _op. cit._ p. 611.]\n\n[Footnote 343: C. G. Seligmann, _op. cit._ pp. 616 _sq._]\n\n[Footnote 344: C. G. Seligmann. _op. cit._ p. 611.]\n\n[Footnote 345: C. G. Seligmann, _op. cit._ pp. 618 _sq._]\n\n[Footnote 346: C. G. Seligmann, _op. cit._ pp. 613 _sq._]\n\n[Footnote 347: The Rev. J. T. Field of Tubetube (Slade Island), quoted\nby George Brown, D.D., _Melanesians and Polynesians_ (London, 1910), pp.\n442 _sq._]\n\n[Footnote 348: Rev. J. T. Field, _op. cit._ pp. 443 _sq._]\n\n[Footnote 349: C. G. Seligmann, _op. cit._ pp. 629-631. Dr. Seligmann\nseems to think that the custom is at present dictated by courtesy and a\nreluctance to grieve the relatives of the deceased; but the original\nmotive can hardly have been any other than a fear of the ghost.]\n\n[Footnote 350: C. G. Seligmann, _op. cit._ pp. 631 _sq._]\n\n[Footnote 351: Rev. J. Chalmers, \"Notes on the Natives of Kiwai Island,\nFly River, British New Guinea,\" _Journal of the Anthropological\nInstitute_, xxxiii. (1903) pp. 119, 120.]\n\n[Footnote 352: G. Landtman, \"Wanderings of the Dead in the Folk-lore of\nthe Kiwai-speaking Papuans,\" _Festskrift tillaegnad Edvard Westermarck_\n(Helsingfors, 1912), pp. 59-66.]\n\n[Footnote 353: G. Landtman, _op. cit._ pp. 67 _sq._]\n\n[Footnote 354: G. Landtman, _op. cit._ pp. 68-71.]\n\n[Footnote 355: G. Landtman, _op. cit._ pp. 77 _sq._]\n\n[Footnote 356: G. Landtman, _op. cit._ pp. 78 _sq._]\n\n[Footnote 357: G. Landtman, _op. cit._ p. 71.]\n\n\n\n\nLECTURE X\n\nTHE BELIEF IN IMMORTALITY AMONG THE NATIVES OF GERMAN NEW GUINEA\n\n\n[Sidenote: Andrew Lang.]\n\nI feel that I cannot begin my second course of lectures without\nreferring to the loss which the study of primitive religion has lately\nsustained by the death of one of my predecessors in this chair, one who\nwas a familiar and an honoured figure in this place, Mr. Andrew Lang.\nWhatever may be the judgment of posterity on his theories--and all our\ntheories on these subjects are as yet more or less tentative and\nprovisional--there can be no question but that by the charm of his\nwritings, the wide range of his knowledge, the freshness and vigour of\nhis mind, and the contagious enthusiasm which he brought to bear on\nwhatever he touched, he was a great power in promoting the study of\nprimitive man not in this country only, but wherever the English\nlanguage is spoken, and that he won for himself a permanent place in the\nhistory of the science to which he devoted so much of his remarkable\ngifts and abilities. As he spent a part of every winter in St. Andrews,\nI had thought that in the course on which I enter to-day I might perhaps\nbe honoured by his presence at some of my lectures. But it was not to\nbe. Yet a fancy strikes me to which I will venture to give utterance.\nYou may condemn, but I am sure you will not smile at it. It has been\nsaid of Macaulay that if his spirit ever revisited the earth, it might\nbe expected to haunt the flagged walk beside the chapel in the great\ncourt of Trinity College, Cambridge, the walk which in his lifetime he\nloved to pace book in hand. And if Andrew Lang's spirit could be seen\nflitting pensively anywhere, would it not be just here, in \"the college\nof the scarlet gown,\" in the \"little city worn and grey,\" looking out on\nthe cold North Sea, the city which he knew and loved so well? Be that as\nit may, his memory will always be associated with St. Andrews; and if\nthe students who shall in future go forth from this ancient university\nto carry St. Andrew's Cross, if I may say so, on their banner in the\neternal warfare with falsehood and error,--if they cannot imitate Andrew\nLang in the versatility of his genius, in the variety of his\naccomplishments, in the manifold graces of his literary art, it is to be\nhoped that they will strive to imitate him in qualities which are more\nwithin the reach of us all, in his passionate devotion to knowledge, in\nhis ardent and unflagging pursuit of truth.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n[Sidenote: Review of preceding lectures.]\n\nIn my last course of lectures I explained that I proposed to treat of\nthe belief in immortality from a purely historical point of view. My\nintention is not to discuss the truth of the belief or to criticise the\ngrounds on which it has been maintained. To do so would be to trench on\nthe province of the theologian and the philosopher. I limit myself to\nthe far humbler task of describing, first, the belief as it has been\nheld by some savage races, and, second, some of the practical\nconsequences which these primitive peoples have deduced from it for the\nconduct of life, whether these consequences take the shape of religious\nrites or moral precepts. Now in such a survey of savage creed and\npractice it is convenient to begin with the lowest races of men about\nwhom we have accurate information and to pass from them gradually to\nhigher and higher races, because we thus start with the simplest forms\nof religion and advance by regular gradations to more complex forms, and\nwe may hope in this way to render the course of religious evolution more\nintelligible than if we were to start from the most highly developed\nreligions and to work our way down from them to the most embryonic. In\npursuance of this plan I commenced my survey with the aborigines of\nAustralia, because among the races of man about whom we are well\ninformed these savages are commonly and, I believe, justly supposed to\nstand at the foot of the human scale. Having given you some account of\ntheir beliefs and practices concerning the dead I attempted to do the\nsame for the islanders of Torres Straits and next for the natives of\nBritish New Guinea. There I broke off, and to-day I shall resume the\nthread of my discourse at the broken end by describing the beliefs and\npractices concerning the dead, as these beliefs are entertained and\nthese practices observed by the natives of German New Guinea.\n\n[Sidenote: German New Guinea.]\n\nAs you are aware, the German territory of New Guinea skirts the British\nterritory on the north throughout its entire length and comprises\nroughly a quarter of the whole island, the British and German\npossessions making up together the eastern half of New Guinea, while the\nwestern half belongs to Holland.\n\n[Sidenote: Information as to the natives of German New Guinea.]\n\nOur information as to the natives of German New Guinea is very\nfragmentary, and is confined almost entirely to the tribes of the coast.\nAs to the inhabitants of the interior we know as yet very little.\nHowever, German missionaries and others have described more or less\nfully the customs and beliefs of the natives at various points of this\nlong coast, and I shall extract from their descriptions some notices of\nthat particular aspect of the native religion with which in these\nlectures we are specially concerned. The points on the coast as to which\na certain amount of ethnographical information is forthcoming are, to\ntake them in the order from west to east, Berlin Harbour, Potsdam\nHarbour, Astrolabe Bay, the Maclay Coast, Cape King William, Finsch\nHarbour, and the Tami Islands in Huon Gulf. I propose to say something\nas to the natives at each of these points, beginning with Berlin\nHarbour, the most westerly of them.\n\n[Sidenote: The island of Tumleo.]\n\nBerlin Harbour is formed by a group of four small islands, which here\nlie off the coast. One of the islands bears the name of Tumleo or\nTamara, and we possess an excellent account of the natives of this\nisland from the pen of a Catholic missionary, Father Mathias Josef\nErdweg,[358] which I shall draw upon in what follows. We have also a\npaper by a German ethnologist, the late Mr. R. Parkinson, on the same\nsubject,[359] but his information is in part derived from Father Erdweg\nand he appears to have erred by applying too generally the statements\nwhich Father Erdweg strictly limited to the inhabitants of Tumleo.[360]\n\n[Sidenote: The natives of Tumleo, their material and artistic culture.]\n\nThe island of Tumleo lies in 142 deg. 25\" of East Longitude and 3 deg. 15\" of\nSouth Latitude, and is distant about sixty sea-miles from the\nwesternmost point of German New Guinea. It is a coral island, surrounded\nby a barrier reef and rising for the most part only a few feet above the\nsea.[361] In stature the natives fall below the average European height;\nbut they are well fed and strongly built. Their colour varies from black\nto light brown. Their hair is very frizzly. Women and children wear it\ncut short; men wear it done up into wigs. They number less than three\nhundred, divided into four villages. The population seems to have\ndeclined through wars, disease, and infanticide.[362] Like the Papuans\ngenerally, they live in settled villages and engage in fishing,\nagriculture, and commerce. The houses are solidly built of wood and are\nraised above the ground upon piles, which consist of a hard and durable\ntimber, sometimes iron-wood.[363] The staple food of the people is sago,\nwhich they obtain from the sago-palm. These stately palms, with their\nfan-like foliage, are rare on the coral island of Tumleo, but grow\nabundantly in the swampy lowlands of the neighbouring mainland.\nAccordingly in the months of May and June, when the sea is calm, the\nnatives cross over to the mainland in their canoes and obtain a supply\nof sago in exchange for the products of their island. The sago is eaten\nin the form both of porridge and of bread.[364] Other vegetable foods\nare furnished by sweet potatoes, taro, yams, bananas, sugar-cane, and\ncoco-nuts, all of which the natives cultivate.[365] Fishing is a\nprincipal industry of the people; it is plied by both sexes and by old\nand young, with nets, spears, and bows and arrows.[366] Pottery is\nanother flourishing industry. As among many other savages, it is\npractised only by women, but the men take the pots to market; for these\nislanders do a good business in pots with the neighbouring tribes.[367]\nThey build large outrigger canoes, which sail well before the wind, but\ncan hardly beat up against it, being heavy to row. In these canoes the\nnatives of Tumleo make long voyages along the coast; but as the craft\nare not very seaworthy they never stand out to sea, if they can help it,\nbut hug the shore in order to run for safety to the beach in stormy\nweather.[368] In regard to art the natives display some taste and skill\nin wood-carving. For example, the projecting house-beams are sometimes\ncarved in the shape of crocodiles, birds, and grotesque human figures;\nand their canoes, paddles, head-rests, drums, drum-sticks, and vessels\nare also decorated with carving. Birds, fish, crocodiles, foliage, and\nscroll-work are the usual patterns.[369]\n\n[Sidenote: The temples (_paraks_) of Tumleo.]\n\nA remarkable feature in the villages of Tumleo and the neighbouring\nislands and mainland consists of the _paraks_ or temples, the high\ngables of which may be seen rising above the bushes in all the villages\nof this part of the coast. No such buildings exist elsewhere in this\nregion. They are set apart for the worship of certain guardian spirits,\nand on them the native lavishes all the resources of his elementary arts\nof sculpture and painting. They are built of wood in two storeys and\nraised on piles besides. The approach to one of them is always by one or\ntwo ladders provided on both sides with hand-rails or banisters. These\nbanisters are elaborately decorated with carving, which is always of the\nsame pattern. One banister is invariably carved in the shape of a\ncrocodile holding a grotesque human figure in its jaws, while on the\nother hand the animal's tail is grasped by one or more human figures.\nThe other banister regularly exhibits a row of human or rather ape-like\neffigies seated one behind the other, each of them resting his arms on\nthe shoulders of the figure in front. Often there are seven such figures\nin a row. The natives are so shy in speaking of these temples that it is\ndifficult to ascertain the meaning of the curious carvings by which they\nare adorned. Mr. Parkinson supposed that they represent spirits, not\napes. He tells us that there are no apes in New Guinea. The interior of\nthe temple (_parak_) is generally empty. The only things to be seen in\nits two rooms, the upper and lower, are bamboo flutes and drums made out\nof the hollow trunks of trees. On these instruments men concealed in the\ntemple discourse music in order to signify the presence of the\nspirit.[370]\n\n[Sidenote: The bachelors' houses (_alols_) of Tumleo.]\n\nDifferent from these _paraks_ or temples are the _alols_, which are\nbachelors' houses and council-houses in one. Like the temples, they are\nraised above the ground and approached by a ladder, but unlike the\ntemples they have only one storey. In them the unmarried men live and\nthe married men meet to take counsel and to speak of things which may\nnot be mentioned before women. On a small stand or table in each of\nthese _alols_ or men's clubhouses are kept the skulls of dead men. And\nas the temple (_parak_) is devoted to the worship of spirits, so the\nmen's clubhouse (_alol_) is the place where the dead ancestors are\nworshipped. Women and children may not enter it, but it is not regarded\nwith such superstitious fear as the temple. The dead are buried in their\nhouses or beside them. Afterwards the bones are dug up and the skulls of\ngrown men are deposited, along with one of the leg bones, on the stand\nor table in the men's clubhouse (_alol_). The skulls of youths, women,\nand children are kept in the houses where they died. When the table in\nthe clubhouse is quite full of grinning trophies of mortality, the old\nskulls are removed to make room for the new ones and are thrown away in\na sort of charnel-house, where the other bones are deposited after they\nhave been dug up from the graves. Such a charnel-house is called a\n_tjoll paru_. There is one such place for the bones of grown men and\nanother for the bones of women and children. Some bones, however, are\nkept and used as ornaments or as means to work magic with. For the dead\nare often invoked, for example, to lay the wind or for other useful\npurposes; and at such invocations the bones play a part.[371]\n\n[Sidenote: Spirits of the dead thought to be the causes of sickness and\ndisease.]\n\nBut while the spirits of the dead are thus invited to help their living\nrelations and friends, they are also feared as the causes of sickness\nand disease. Any serious ailment is usually attributed to magic or\nwitchcraft, and the treatment which is resorted to aims rather at\nbreaking the spell which has been cast on the sick man than at curing\nhis malady by the application of physical remedies. In short the remedy\nis exorcism rather than physic. Now the enchantment under which the\npatient is supposed to be labouring is often, though not always,\nascribed to the malignant arts of the spirits of the dead, or the _mos_,\nas the natives of Tumleo call them. In such a case the ghosts are\nthought to be clinging to the body of the sufferer, and the object of\nthe medical treatment is to detach them from him and send them far away.\nWith this kindly intention some men will go into the forest and collect\na number of herbs, including a kind of peppermint. These are tied into\none or more bundles according to the number of the patients and then\ntaken to the men's clubhouse (_alol_), where they are heated over a\nfire. Then the patient is brought, and two men strike him lightly with\nthe packet of herbs on his body and legs, while they utter an\nincantation, inviting the ancestral spirits who are plaguing him to\nleave his body and go away, in order that he may be made whole. One such\nincantation, freely translated, runs thus: \"Spirit of the\ngreat-grandfather, of the father, come out! We give thee coco-nuts,\nsago-porridge, fish. Go away (from the sick man). Let him be well. Do no\nharm here and there. Tell the people of Leming (O spirit) to give us\ntobacco. When the waves are still, we push off from the land, sailing\nnorthward (to Tumleo). It is the time of the north-west wind (when the\nsurf is heavy). May the billows calm down in the south, O in the south,\non the coast of Leming, that we may sail to the south, to Leming! Out\nthere may the sea be calm, that we may push off from the land for home!\"\nIn this incantation a prayer to the spirit of the dead to relax his hold\non the sufferer appears to be curiously combined with a prayer or spell\nto calm the sea when the people sail across to the coast of Leming to\nfetch a cargo of tobacco. When the incantation has been recited and the\npatient stroked with the bundle of herbs, one of his ears and both his\narm-pits are moistened with a blood-red spittle produced by the chewing\nof betel-nut, pepper, and lime. Then they take hold of his fingers and\nmake each of them crack, one after the other, while they recite some of\nthe words of the preceding incantation. Next three men take each of them\na branch of the _volju_ tree, bend it into a bow, and stroke the sick\nman from head to foot, while they recite another incantation, in which\nthey command the spirit to let the sick man alone and to go away into\nthe water or the mud. Often when a man is seriously ill he will remove\nfrom his own house to the house of a relation or friend, hoping that the\nspirit who has been tormenting him will not be able to discover him at\nhis new address.[372]\n\n[Sidenote: Burial and mourning customs in Tumleo.]\n\nIf despite of all these precautions the patient should die, he or she is\nplaced in a wooden coffin and buried with little delay in a grave, which\nis dug either in the house or close beside it. The body is smeared all\nover with clay and decked with many rings or ornaments, most of which,\nhowever, are removed in a spirit of economy before the lid of the coffin\nis shut down. Sometimes arrows, sometimes a rudder, sometimes the bones\nof dead relations are buried with the corpse in the grave. When the\ngrave is dug outside of the house, a small hut is erected over it, and a\nfire is kept burning on it for a time. In the house of mourning the\nwife, sister, or other female relative of the deceased must remain\nstrictly secluded for a period which varies from a few weeks to three\nmonths. In token of mourning the widow's body is smeared with clay, and\nfrom time to time she is heard to chant a dirge in a whining, melancholy\ntone. This seclusion lasts so long as the ghost is supposed to be still\non his way to the other world. When he has reached his destination, the\nfire is suffered to die down on the grave, and his widow or other female\nrelative is free to quit the house and resume her ordinary occupations.\nThrough her long seclusion in the shade her swarthy complexion assumes a\nlighter tint, but it soon deepens again when she is exposed once more to\nthe strong tropical sunshine.[373]\n\n[Sidenote: Beliefs of the Tumleo people as to the fate of the human soul\nafter death.]\n\nThe people of Tumleo firmly believe in the existence of the human soul\nafter death, though their notions of the disembodied soul or _mos_, as\nthey call it, are vague. They think that on its departure from the body\nthe soul goes to a place deep under ground, where there is a great\nwater. Over that water every soul must pass on a ladder to reach the\nabode of bliss. The ladder is in the keeping of a spirit called _Su asin\ntjakin_ or \"the Great Evil,\" who takes toll of the ghosts before he lets\nthem use his ladder. Hence an ear-ring and a bracelet are deposited with\nevery corpse in the grave in order that the dead man may have\nwherewithal to pay the toll to the spirit at the great water. When the\nghost arrives at the place of passage and begs for the use of the\nladder, the spirit asks him, \"Shall I get my bracelet if I let you\npass?\" If he receives it and happens to be in a good humour, he will let\nthe ghost scramble across the ladder to the further shore. But woe to\nthe stingy ghost, who should try to sneak across the ladder without\npaying toll. The ghostly tollkeeper detects the fraud in an instant and\nroars out, \"So you would cheat me of my dues? You shall pay for that.\"\nSo saying he tips the ladder up, and down falls the ghost plump into the\ndeep water and is drowned. But the honest ghost, who has paid his way\nlike a man and arrived on the further shore, is met by two other ghosts\nwho ferry him in a canoe across to Sisano, which is a place on the\nmainland a good many miles to the north of Tumleo. A great river flows\nthere and in the river are three cities of the dead, in one of which the\nnewly arrived ghost takes up his abode. Then it is that the fire on his\ngrave is allowed to go out and his widow may mingle with her fellows\nagain. However, the ghosts are not strictly confined to the spirit-land.\nThey can come back to earth and roam about working good or evil for the\nliving and especially for their friends and relations.[374]\n\n[Sidenote: Monuments to the dead in Tumleo. Disinterment of the bones.]\n\nIt is perhaps this belief not only in the existence but in the return of\nthe spirits of the dead which induces the survivors to erect monuments\nor memorials to them. In Tumleo these monuments consist for the most\npart of young trees, which are cut down, stripped of their leaves, and\nset up in the ground beside the house of the deceased. The branches of\nsuch a memorial tree are hung with fruits, coco-nuts, loin-cloths, pots,\nand personal ornaments, all of which we may suppose are intended for the\ncomfort and convenience of the ghost when he returns from deadland to\npay his friends a visit.[375] But the remains of the dead are not\nallowed to rest quietly in the grave for ever. After two or three years\nthey are dug up with much ceremony at the point of noon, when the sun is\nhigh overhead. The skull of the deceased, if he was a man, is then\ndeposited, as we saw, with one of the thigh bones in the men's\nclubhouse, while of the remaining bones some are kept by the relations\nand the others thrown away in a charnel-house. Among the relics which\nthe relations preserve are the lower arm bones, the shoulder-blades, the\nribs, and the vertebra. The vertebra is often fastened to a bracelet; a\ncouple of ribs are converted into a necklace; and the shoulder-blades\nare used to decorate baskets. The lower arm bones are generally strung\non a cord, which is worn on solemn occasions round the neck so that the\nbones hang down behind. They are especially worn thus in war, and they\nare made use of also when their owner desires to obtain a favourable\nwind for a voyage. No doubt, though this is not expressly affirmed, the\nspirit of the departed is supposed to remain attached in some fashion to\nhis bones and so to help the possessor of these relics in time of need.\nWhen the bones have been dug up and disposed of with all due ceremony,\nseveral men who were friends or relations of the deceased must keep\nwatch and ward for some days in the men's clubhouse, where his grinning\nskull now stands amid similar trophies of mortality on a table or shelf.\nThey may not quit the building except in case of necessity, and they\nmust always speak in a whisper for fear of disturbing the ghost, who is\nvery naturally lurking in the neighbourhood of his skull. However, in\nspite of these restrictions the watchers enjoy themselves; for baskets\nof sago and fish are provided abundantly for their consumption, and if\ntheir tongues are idle their jaws are very busy.[376]\n\n[Sidenote: Propitiation of the souls of the dead and other spirits.]\n\nThe people think that if they stand on a good footing with the souls of\nthe departed and with other spirits, these powerful beings will bring\nthem good luck in trade and on their voyages. Now the time when trade is\nlively and the calm sea is dotted with canoes plying from island to\nisland or from island to mainland, is the season when the gentle\nsouth-east monsoon is blowing. On the other hand, when the waves run\nhigh under the blast of the strong north-west monsoon, the sea is almost\ndeserted and the people stay at home;[377] the season is to these\ntropical islanders what winter is to the inhabitants of northern\nlatitudes. Accordingly it is when the wind is shifting round from the\nstormy north-west to the balmy south-east that the natives set\nthemselves particularly to win the favour of ghosts and spirits, and\nthis they do by repairing the temples and clubhouses in which the\nspirits and ghosts are believed to dwell, and by cleaning and tidying up\nthe open spaces around them. These repairs are the occasion of a\nfestival accompanied by dances and games. Early in the morning of the\nfestive day the shrill notes of the flutes and the hollow rub-a-dub of\nthe drums are heard to proceed from the interior of the temple,\nproclaiming the arrival of the guardian spirit and his desire to partake\nof fish and sago. So the men assemble and the feast is held in the\nevening. Festivals are also held both in the temples and in the men's\nclubhouses on the occasion of a successful hunt or fishing. Out of\ngratitude for the help vouchsafed them by the ancestral spirits, the\nhunters or fishers bring the larger game or fish to the temples or\nclubhouses and eat them there; and then hang up some parts of the\nanimals or fish, such as the skeletons, the jawbones of pigs, or the\nshells of turtles, in the clubhouses as a further mark of homage to the\nspirits of the dead.[378]\n\n[Sidenote: Guardian spirits (_tapum_) in Tumleo.]\n\nSo far as appears, the spirits who dwell in the temples are not supposed\nto be ancestors. Father Erdweg describes them as guardian spirits or\ngoddesses, for they are all of the female sex. Every village has several\nof them; indeed in the village of Sapi almost every family has its own\nguardian spirit. The name for these guardian spirits is _tapum_, which\nseems to be clearly connected with the now familiar word _tapu_ or\ntaboo, in the sense of sacred, which is universally understood in the\nislands of the Pacific. On the whole the _tapum_ are kindly and\nbeneficent spirits, who bring good luck to such as honour them. A hunter\nor a fisherman ascribes his success in the chase or in fishing to the\nprotection of his guardian spirit; and when he is away from home trading\nfor sago and other necessaries of life, it is his guardian spirit who\ngives him favour in the eyes of the foreigners with whom he is dealing.\nCuriously enough, though these guardian spirits are all female, they\nhave no liking for women and children. Indeed, no woman or child may set\nfoot in a temple, or even loiter in the open space in front of it. And\nat the chief festivals, when the temples are being repaired, all the\nwomen and children must quit the village till the evening shadows have\nfallen and the banquet of their husbands, fathers, and brothers at the\ntemple is over.[379]\n\nOn the whole, then, we conclude that a belief in the continued existence\nof the spirits of the dead, and in their power to help or harm their\ndescendants, plays a considerable part in the life of the Papuans of\nTumleo. Whether the guardian spirits or goddesses, who are worshipped in\nthe temples, were originally conceived as ancestral spirits or not, must\nbe left an open question for the present.\n\n[Sidenote: The Monumbo of Potsdam Harbour.]\n\nPassing eastward from Tumleo along the northern coast of German New\nGuinea we come to Monumbo or Potsdam Harbour, situated about the 145th\ndegree of East Longitude. The Monumbo are a Papuan tribe numbering about\nfour hundred souls, who inhabit twelve small villages close to the\nseashore. Their territory is a narrow but fertile strip of country, well\nwatered and covered with luxuriant vegetation, lying between the sea and\na range of hills. The bay is sheltered by an island from the open sea,\nand the natives can paddle their canoes on its calm water in almost any\nweather. The villages, embowered on the landward side in groves of trees\nof many useful sorts and screened in front by rows of stately coco-nut\npalms, are composed of large houses solidly built of timber and are kept\nvery clean and tidy. The Monumbo are a strongly-built people, of the\naverage European height, with what is described as a remarkably Semitic\ntype of features. The men wear their hair plaited about a long tube,\ndecorated with shells and dogs' teeth, which sticks out stiffly from the\nhead. The women wear their hair in a sort of mop, composed of countless\nplaits, which hang down in tangle. In disposition the Monumbo are\ncheerful and contented, proud of themselves and their country; they\nthink they are the cleverest and most fortunate people on earth, and\nlook down with pity and contempt on Europeans. According to them the\nbusiness of the foreign settlers in their country is folly, and the\nteaching of the missionaries is nonsense. They subsist by agriculture,\nhunting, and fishing. Their well-kept plantations occupy the level\nground and in some places extend up the hill-sides. Among the plants\nwhich they cultivate are taro, yams, sweet potatoes, bananas, various\nkinds of vegetables, and sugar-cane. Among their fruit-trees are the\nsago-palm, the coco-nut palm, and the bread-fruit tree. They make use\nboth of earthenware and of wooden vessels. Their dances, especially\ntheir masked dances, which are celebrated at intervals of four or five\nyears, have excited the warm admiration of the despised European.[380]\n\n[Sidenote: Beliefs of the Monumbo concerning the spirits of the dead.\nDread of ghosts.]\n\nWith regard to their religion and morality I will quote the evidence of\na Catholic missionary who has laboured among them. \"The Monumbo are\nacquainted with no Supreme Being, no moral good or evil, no rewards, no\nplace of punishment or joy after death, no permanent immortality....\nWhen people die, their souls go to the land of spirits, a place where\nthey dwell without work or suffering, but which they can also quit.\nBetel-chewing, smoking, dancing, sleeping, all the occupations that they\nloved on earth, are continued without interruption in the other world.\nThey converse with men in dreams, but play them many a shabby trick,\ntake possession of them and even, it may be, kill them. Yet they also\nhelp men in all manner of ways in war and the chase. Men invoke them,\npray to them, make statues in their memory, which are called _dva_\n(plural _dvaka_), and bring them offerings of food, in order to obtain\ntheir assistance. But if the spirits of the dead do not help, they are\nrated in the plainest language. Death makes no great separation. The\nliving converse with the dead very much as they converse with each\nother. Time alone brings with it a gradual oblivion of the departed.\nFalling stars and lightning are nothing but the souls of the dead, who\nstick dry banana leaves in their girdles, set them on fire, and then fly\nthrough the air. At last when the souls are old they die, but are not\nannihilated, for they are changed into animals and plants. Such animals\nare, for example, the white ants and a rare kind of wild pig, which is\nsaid not to allow itself to be killed. Such a tree, for example, is the\n_barimbar_. That, apparently, is the whole religion of the Monumbo. Yet\nthey are ghost-seers of the most arrant sort. An anxious superstitious\nfear pursues them at every step. Superstitious views are the motives\nthat determine almost everything that they do or leave undone.\"[381]\nTheir dread of ghosts is displayed in their custom of doing no work in\nthe plantations for three days after a death, lest the ghost, touched to\nthe quick by their heartless indifference, should send wild boars to\nravage the plantations. And when a man has slain an enemy in war, he has\nto remain a long time secluded in the men's clubhouse, touching nobody,\nnot even his wife and children, while the villagers celebrate his\nvictory with song and dance. He is believed to be in a state of\nceremonial impurity (_bolobolo_) such that, if he were to touch his wife\nand children, they would be covered with sores. At the end of his\nseclusion he is purified by washings and other purgations and is clean\nonce more.[382] The reason of this uncleanness of a victorious warrior\nis not mentioned, but analogy makes it nearly certain that it is a dread\nof the vengeful ghost of the man whom he has slain. A similar fear\nprobably underlies the rule that a widower must abstain from certain\nfoods, such as fish and sauces, and from bathing for a certain time\nafter the death of his wife.[383]\n\n[Sidenote: The Tamos of Astrolabe Bay. Mistake of attempting to combine\ndescriptive with comparative anthropology.]\n\nLeaving Potsdam Harbour and the Monumbo, and moving still eastward along\nthe coast of German New Guinea, we come to a large indentation known as\nAstrolabe Bay. The natives of this part of the coast call themselves\nTamos. The largest village on the bay bears the name of Bogadyim and in\n1894 numbered about three hundred inhabitants.[384] Our principal\nauthority on the natives is a German ethnologist, Dr. B. Hagen, who\nspent about eighteen months at Stefansort on Astrolabe Bay.\nUnfortunately he has mixed up his personal observations of these\nparticular people not merely with second-hand accounts of natives of\nother parts of New Guinea but with discussions of general theories of\nthe origin and migrations of races and of the development of social\ninstitutions; so that it is not altogether easy to disentangle the facts\nfor which he is a first-hand witness, from those which he reports at\nsecond, third, or fourth hand. Scarcely anything, I may observe in\npassing, more impairs the value and impedes the usefulness of personal\nobservations of savage races than this deplorable habit of attempting to\ncombine the work of description with the work of comparison and\ngeneralisation. The two kinds of work are entirely distinct in their\nnature, and require very different mental qualities for their proper\nperformance; the one should never be confused with the other. The task\nof descriptive anthropology is to record observations, without any\nadmixture of theory; the task of comparative anthropology is to compare\nthe observations made in all parts of the world, and from the comparison\nto deduce theories, more or less provisional, of the origin and growth\nof beliefs and institutions, always subject to modification and\ncorrection by facts which may afterwards be brought to light. There is\nno harm, indeed there is great positive advantage, in the descriptive\nanthropologist making himself acquainted with the theories of the\ncomparative anthropologist, for by so doing his attention will probably\nbe called to many facts which he might otherwise have overlooked and\nwhich, when recorded, may either confirm or refute the theories in\nquestion. But if he knows these theories, he should keep his knowledge\nstrictly in the background and never interlard his descriptions of facts\nwith digressions into an alien province. In this way descriptive\nanthropology and comparative anthropology will best work hand in hand\nfor the furtherance of their common aim, the understanding of the nature\nand development of man.\n\n[Sidenote: The religion of the Tamos. Beliefs of the Tamos as to the\nsouls of the dead.]\n\nLike the Papuans in general, the Tamos of Astrolabe Bay are a settled\nagricultural people, who dwell in fixed villages, subsist mainly by the\nproduce of the ground which they cultivate, and engage in a commerce of\nbarter with their neighbours.[385] Their material culture thus does not\ndiffer essentially from that of the other Papuans, and I need not give\nparticulars of it. With regard to their religious views Dr. Hagen tells\nus candidly that he has great hesitation in expressing an opinion.\n\"Nothing,\" he says very justly, \"is more difficult for a European than\nto form an approximately correct conception of the religious views of a\nsavage people, and the difficulty is infinitely increased when the\nenquirer has little or no knowledge of their language.\" Dr. Hagen had,\nindeed, an excellent interpreter and intelligent assistant in the person\nof a missionary, Mr. Hoffmann; but Mr. Hoffmann himself admitted that he\nhad no clear ideas as to the religious views of the Tamos; however, in\nhis opinion they are entirely destitute of the conception of God and of\na Creator. Yet among the Tamos of Bogadyim, Dr. Hagen tells us, a belief\nin the existence of the soul after death is proved by their assertion\nthat after death the soul (_gunung_) goes to _buka kure_, which seems to\nmean the village of ghosts. This abode of the dead appears to be\nsituated somewhere in the earth, and the Tamos speak of it with a\nshudder. They tell of a man in the village of Bogadyim who died and went\naway to the village of the ghosts. But as he drew near to the village,\nhe met the ghost of his dead brother who had come forth with bow and\narrows and spear to hunt a wild boar. This boar-hunting ghost was very\nangry at meeting his brother, who had just died, and drove him back to\nthe land of the living. From this narrative it would seem that in the\nother world the ghosts are thought to pursue the same occupations which\nthey followed in life. The natives are in great fear of ghosts (_buka_).\nTravelling alone with them in the forest at nightfall you may mark their\ntimidity and hear them cry anxiously, \"Come, let us be going! The ghost\nis roaming about.\" The ghosts of those who have perished in battle do\nnot go to the Village of Ghosts (_buka kure_); they repair to another\nplace called _bopa kure_. But this abode of the slain does not seem to\nbe a happy land or Valhalla; the natives are even more afraid of it than\nof the Village of Ghosts (_buka kure_). They will hardly venture at\nnight to pass a spot where any one has been slain. Sometimes fires are\nkindled by night on such spots; and the sight of the flames flickering\nin the distance inspires all the beholders with horror, and nothing in\nthe world would induce them to approach such a fire. The souls of men\nwho have been killed, but whose death has not been avenged, are supposed\nto haunt the village. For some time after death the ghost is believed to\nlinger in the neighbourhood of his deserted body. When Mr. Hoffmann went\nwith some Tamos to another village to bring back the body of a fellow\nmissionary, who had died there, and darkness had fallen on them in the\nforest, his native companions started with fear every moment, imagining\nthat they saw the missionary's ghost popping out from behind a\ntree.[386]\n\n[Sidenote: Treatment of the corpse. Secret Society called _Asa_.]\n\nWhen death has taken place, the corpse is first exposed on a scaffold in\nfront of the house, where it is decked with ornaments and surrounded\nwith flowers. If the deceased was rich, a dog is hung on each side of\nthe scaffold, and the souls of the animals are believed to accompany the\nghost to the spirit-land. Taros, yams, and coco-nuts are also suspended\nfrom the scaffold, no doubt for the refreshment of the ghost. Then the\nmelancholy notes of a horn are heard in the distance, at the sound of\nwhich all the women rush away. Soon the horn-blower appears, paints the\ncorpse white and red, crowns it with great red hibiscus roses, then\nblows his horn, and vanishes.[387] He is a member of a secret society,\ncalled _Asa_, which has its lodge standing alone in the forest. Only men\nbelong to the society; women and children are excluded from it and look\nupon it with fear and awe. If any one raises a cry, \"_Asa_ is coming,\"\nor the sound of the musical instruments of the society is heard in the\ndistance, all the women and children scamper away. The natives are very\nunwilling to let any stranger enter one of the lodges of the society.\nThe interior of such a building is usually somewhat bare, but it\ncontains the wooden masks which are worn in the ceremonial dances of the\nsociety, and the horns and flutes on which the members discourse their\nawe-inspiring music. In construction it scarcely differs from the\nordinary huts of the village; if anything it is worse built and more\nprimitive. The secrets of the society are well kept; at least very\nlittle seems to have been divulged to Europeans. The most important of\nits ceremonies is that of the initiation of the young men, who on this\noccasion are circumcised before they are recognised as full-grown men\nand members of the secret society. At such times the men encamp and\nfeast for weeks or even months together on the open space in front of\nthe society's lodge, and masked dances are danced to the accompaniment\nof the instrumental music. These initiatory ceremonies are held at\nintervals of about ten or fifteen years, when there are a considerable\nnumber of young men to be initiated together.[388] Although we are still\nin the dark as to the real meaning of this and indeed of almost all\nsimilar secret societies among savages, the solemn part played by a\nmember of the society at the funeral rites seems very significant. Why\nshould he come mysteriously to the melancholy music of the horn, paint\nthe corpse red and white, crown it with red roses, and then vanish again\nto music as he had come? It is scarcely rash to suppose that this\nceremony has some reference to the state of the dead man's soul, and we\nmay conjecture that just as the fruits hung on the scaffold are\ndoubtless intended for the consumption of the ghost, and the souls of\nthe dogs are expressly said to accompany him to the spirit-land, so the\npainting of the corpse and the crown of red roses may be designed in\nsome way to speed the parting spirit on the way to its long home. In the\nabsence of exact information as to the beliefs of these savages touching\nthe state of the dead we can only guess at the meaning which they attach\nto these symbols. Perhaps they think that only ghosts who are painted\nred and white and who wear wreaths of red roses on their heads are\nadmitted to the Village of the Ghosts, and that such as knock at the\ngate with no paint on their bodies and no wreath of roses on their brows\nare refused admittance and must turn sorrowfully away, to haunt their\nundutiful friends on earth who had omitted to pay the last marks of\nrespect and honour to the dead.\n\n[Sidenote: Burial customs of the Tamos. Removal of the lower jawbone.]\n\nWhen the corpse has lain in all its glory, with its ornaments, its paint\nand its flowers, for a short time on the scaffold, it is removed and\nburied. The exposure never lasts more than a day. If the man died in the\nmorning, he is buried at night. The grave is dug in the house itself. It\nis only about three feet deep and four feet long. If the corpse is too\nlong for the grave, as usually happens, the legs are remorselessly\ndoubled up and trampled in. It is the relations on the mother's side who\ndig the grave and lower the body, shrouded in mats or leaves, into its\nnarrow bed. Before doing so they take care to strip it of its ornaments,\nits rings, necklaces, boar's teeth, and so forth, which no doubt are\nregarded as too valuable to be sacrificed. Yet a regard for the comfort\nof the dead is shewn by the custom of covering the open grave with wood\nand then heaping the mould on the top, in order, we are told, that the\nearth may not press heavy on him who sleeps below. _Sit tibi terra\nlevis!_ After some months the grave is opened and the lower jaw removed\nfrom the corpse and preserved. This removal of the jaw is the occasion\nof solemnities and ceremonial washings, in which the whole male\npopulation of the village takes part. But as to the meaning of these\nceremonies, and as to what is done with the jawbone, we have no exact\ninformation.[389] According to the Russian traveller, Baron N. von\nMiklucho-Maclay, who has also given us an account of the Papuans of\nAstrolabe Bay,[390] though not apparently of the villages described by\nDr. Hagen, the whole skull is dug up and separated from the corpse after\nthe lapse of about a year, but only the lower jawbone is carefully kept\nby the nearest kinsman as a memorial of the deceased. Baron\nMiklucho-Maclay had great difficulty in inducing a native to part with\none of these memorials of a dead relation.[391] In any case the\npreservation of this portion of the deceased may be supposed to have for\nits object the maintenance of friendly relations between the living and\nthe dead. Similarly in Uganda the jawbone is the only part of the body\nof a deceased king which, along with his navel-string, is carefully\npreserved in his temple-tomb and consulted oracularly.[392] We may\nconjecture that the reason for preserving this part of the human frame\nrather than any other is that the jawbone is an organ of speech, and\nthat therefore it appears to the primitive mind well fitted to maintain\nintercourse with the dead man's spirit and to obtain oracular\ncommunications from him.\n\n[Sidenote: Sham fight as a funeral ceremony at Astrolabe Bay.]\n\nThe Russian traveller, Baron Miklucho-Maclay, has described a curious\nfuneral ceremony which is observed by some of the Papuans of Astrolabe\nBay. I will give the first part of his description in his own words,\nwhich I translate from the German. He says: \"The death of a man is\nannounced to the neighbouring villages by a definite series of beats on\nthe drum. On the same day or the next morning the whole male population\nassembles in the vicinity of the village of the deceased. All the men\nare in full warlike array. To the beat of drum the guests march into the\nvillage, where a crowd of men, also armed for war, await the new-comers\nbeside the dead man's hut. After a short parley the men divide into two\nopposite camps, and thereupon a sham fight takes place. However, the\ncombatants go to work very gingerly and make no use of their spears. But\ndozens of arrows are continually discharged, and not a few are wounded\nin the sham fight, though not seriously. The nearest relations and\nfriends of the deceased appear especially excited and behave as if they\nwere frantic. When all are hot and tired and all arrows have been shot\naway, the pretended enemies seat themselves in a circle and in what\nfollows most of them act as simple spectators.\" Thereupon the nearest\nrelations bring out the corpse and deposit it in a crouching position,\nwith the knees drawn up to the chin, on some mats and leaves of the\nsago-palm, which had previously been spread out in the middle of the\nopen space. Beside the corpse are laid his things, some presents from\nneighbours, and some freshly cooked food. While the men sit round in a\ncircle, the women, even the nearest relatives of the deceased, may only\nlook on from a distance. When all is ready, some men step out from the\ncircle to help the nearest of kin in the next proceedings, which consist\nin tying the corpse up tightly into a bundle by means of rattans and\ncreepers. Then the bundle is attached to a stout stick and carried back\ninto the house. There the corpse in its bundle is fastened under the\nroof by means of the stick, and the dead man's property, together with\nthe presents of the neighbours and the food, are left beside it. After\nthat the house is abandoned, and the guests return to their own\nvillages. A few days later, when decomposition is far advanced, the\ncorpse is taken down and buried in a grave in the house, which continues\nto be inhabited by the family. After the lapse of about a year, the body\nis dug up, the skull separated from it, and the lower jawbone preserved\nby the nearest relation, as I have already mentioned.[393]\n\n[Sidenote: The sham fight perhaps intended to deceive the ghost.]\n\nWhat is the meaning of this curious sham fight which among these people\nseems to be regularly enacted after a death? The writer who reports the\ncustom offers no explanation of it. I would conjecture with all due\ncaution that it may possibly be intended as a satisfaction to the ghost\nin order to make him suppose that his death has been properly avenged.\nIn a former lecture I shewed that natural deaths are regularly imagined\nby many savages to be brought about by the magical practices of enemies,\nand that accordingly the relations of the deceased take vengeance on\nsome innocent person whom for one reason or another they regard as the\nculprit. It is possible that these Papuans of Astrolabe Bay, instead of\nactually putting the supposed sorcerer to death, have advanced so far as\nto abandon that cruel and unjust practice and content themselves with\nthrowing dust in the eyes of the ghost by a sham instead of a real\nfight. But that is only a conjecture of my own, which I merely suggest\nfor what it is worth.\n\nAltogether, looking over the scanty notices of the beliefs and practices\nof these Papuans of Astrolabe Bay concerning the departed, we may say in\ngeneral that while the fear of ghosts is conspicuous enough among them,\nthere is but little evidence of anything that deserves to be called a\nregular worship of the dead.\n\n[Footnote 358: P. Mathias Josef Erdweg, \"Die Bewohner der Insel Tumleo,\nBerlin-hafen, Deutsch-Neu-Guinea,\" _Mittheilungen der Anthropologischen\nGesellschaft in Wien_, xxxii. (1902) pp. 274-310, 317-399.]\n\n[Footnote 359: R. Parkinson, \"Die Berlinhafen Section, ein Beitrag zur\nEthnographie der Neu-Guinea-Kueste,\" _Internationales Archiv fuer\nEthnographie_, xiii. (1900) pp. 18-54.]\n\n[Footnote 360: See the note of Father P. W. Schmidt on Father Erdweg's\npaper, _op. cit._ p. 274.]\n\n[Footnote 361: Erdweg, _op. cit._ p. 274.]\n\n[Footnote 362: Erdweg, _op. cit._ pp. 277 _sq_. The frizzly character of\nthe hair is mentioned by Mr. R. Parkinson, _op. cit._]\n\n[Footnote 363: Erdweg, _op. cit._ pp. 355 _sqq._]\n\n[Footnote 364: Erdweg, _op. cit._ pp. 342-346.]\n\n[Footnote 365: Erdweg, _op. cit._ pp. 335 _sqq._]\n\n[Footnote 366: Erdweg, _op. cit._ pp. 330 _sqq._]\n\n[Footnote 367: Erdweg, _op. cit._ pp. 350 _sqq._]\n\n[Footnote 368: Erdweg, _op. cit._ pp. 363 _sqq._]\n\n[Footnote 369: Erdweg, _op. cit._ pp. 374.]\n\n[Footnote 370: R. Parkinson, \"Die Berlinhafen Section, ein Beitrag zur\nEthnographie der Neu-Guinea-Kueste,\" _Internationales Archiv fuer\nEthnographie_, xiii. (1900) pp. 33-35. Father Erdweg speaks of the\n_parak_ as a spirit-temple or spirit-house in which the deities of the\nTumleo dwell (_op. cit._ p. 377): he tells us that as a rule each\nvillage has only one _parak_. As to the spirits which dwell in these\ntemples, see below, pp. 226 _sq._]\n\n[Footnote 371: R. Parkinson, _op. cit._ pp. 35, 42 _sq._; Erdweg, _op.\ncit._ pp. 292 _sq._, 306.]\n\n[Footnote 372: Erdweg, _op. cit._ pp. 284-287.]\n\n[Footnote 373: Erdweg, _op. cit._ pp. 288-291.]\n\n[Footnote 374: Erdweg, _op. cit._ pp. 297 _sq._]\n\n[Footnote 375: Erdweg, _op. cit._ p. 291.]\n\n[Footnote 376: Erdweg, _op. cit._ pp. 291-293.]\n\n[Footnote 377: Erdweg, _op. cit._ pp. 298, 371.]\n\n[Footnote 378: Erdweg, _op. cit._ pp. 295 _sqq._, 299 _sq._, 334 _sq._]\n\n[Footnote 379: Erdweg, _op. cit._ pp. 295-297.]\n\n[Footnote 380: P. Franz Vormann, \"Dorf und Hausanlage beiden Monumbo,\nDeutsch-Neuguinea,\" _Anthropos_, iv. (1909) pp. 660 _sqq._; _id._, \"Zur\nPsychologie, Religion, Soziologie und Geschichte der Monumbo-Papua,\nDeutsch-Neuguinea,\" _Anthropos_, v. (1910) pp. 407-409.]\n\n[Footnote 381: P. Franz Vormann, in _Anthropos_, v. (1910) pp. 409\n_sq._]\n\n[Footnote 382: P. Franz Vormann, in _Anthropos_, v. (1910) pp. 410,\n411.]\n\n[Footnote 383: P. Franz Vormann, _ibid._, p. 412.]\n\n[Footnote 384: B. Hagen, _Unter den Papua's_ (Wiesbaden, 1899), pp. 143,\n221.]\n\n[Footnote 385: For the evidence see B. Hagen, _op. cit._ pp. 193 _sqq._\nAs to barter he tells us (p. 216) that all articles in use at Bogadyim\nare imported, nothing is made on the spot.]\n\n[Footnote 386: B. Hagen, _Unter den Papua's_ (Wiesbaden, 1899), pp.\n264-266.]\n\n[Footnote 387: B. Hagen, _op. cit._ pp. 258 _sq._]\n\n[Footnote 388: B. Hagen, _op. cit._ pp. 270 _sq._ As to the period and\ndetails of the circumcision ceremonies see _id._, pp. 234-238.]\n\n[Footnote 389: B. Hagen, _op. cit._ p. 260.]\n\n[Footnote 390: N. von Miklucho-Maclay, \"Ethnologische Bemerkungen ueber\ndie Papuas der Maclay-Kueste in Neu-Guinea,\" _Natuurkundig Tijdschrift\nvoor Nederlandsch Indie_, xxxv. (1875) pp. 66-93; _id._, xxxvi. (1876)\npp. 294-333.]\n\n[Footnote 391: N. von Miklucho-Maclay, _op. cit._ xxxvi. (1876) p. 302.]\n\n[Footnote 392: Rev. J. Roscoe, _The Baganda_ (London, 1911), pp. 109\n_sqq._; _Totemism and Exogamy_, ii. 470.]\n\n[Footnote 393: N. von Miklucho-Maclay, _op. cit._ xxxvi. (1876) pp.\n300-302.]\n\n\n\n\nLECTURE XI\n\nTHE BELIEF IN IMMORTALITY AMONG THE NATIVES OF GERMAN NEW GUINEA\n(_continued_)\n\n\n[Sidenote: The Papuans of Cape King William.]\n\nIn my last lecture I gave you some account of the beliefs and practices\nconcerning the dead which have been recorded among the Papuans of German\nNew Guinea. To-day I resume the subject and shall first speak of the\nnatives on the coast about Cape King William, at the foot of Mount\nCromwell. We possess an account of their religion and customs from the\npen of a German missionary, Mr. Stolz, who has lived three years among\nthem and studied their language.[394] His description applies to the\ninhabitants of two villages only, namely Lamatkebolo and Quambu, or\nSialum and Kwamkwam, as they are generally called on the maps, who\ntogether number about five hundred souls. They belong to the Papuan\nstock and subsist chiefly by the cultivation of yams, which they plant\nin April or May and reap in January or February. But they also cultivate\nsweet potatoes and make some use of bananas and coco-nuts. They clear\nthe land for cultivation by burning down the grass and afterwards\nturning up the earth with digging-sticks, a labour which is performed\nchiefly by the men. The land is not common property; each family tills\nits own fields, though sometimes one family will aid another in the\nlaborious task of breaking up the soil. Moreover they trade with the\nnatives of the interior, who, inhabiting a more fertile and\nbetter-watered country, are able to export a portion of their\nsuperfluities, especially taro, sweet potatoes, betel-nuts, and tobacco,\nto the less favoured dwellers on the sea-coast, receiving mostly dried\nfish in return. Curiously enough the traffic is chiefly in the hands of\nold women.[395]\n\n[Sidenote: Propitiation of ghosts and spirits. The spirit Mate. Spirits\ncalled _Nai_.]\n\nWith regard to the religion of these people Mr. Stolz tells us that they\nknow nothing of a deity who should receive the homage of his\nworshippers; they recognise only spirits and the souls of the dead. To\nthese last they bring offerings, not because they feel any need to do\nthem reverence, but simply out of fear and a desire to win their favour.\nThe offerings are presented at burials and when they begin to cultivate\nthe fields. Their purpose is to persuade the souls of the dead to ward\noff all the evil influences that might thwart the growth of the yams,\ntheir staple food. The ghosts are also expected to guard the fields\nagainst the incursions of wild pigs and the ravages of locusts. At a\nburial the aim of the sacrifice is to induce the soul of the departed\nbrother or sister to keep far away from the village and to do no harm to\nthe people. Sacrifices are even offered to the souls of animals, such as\ndogs and pigs, to prevent them from coming back and working mischief.\nHowever, the ghosts of these creatures are not very exacting; a few\npieces of sugar-cane, a coco-nut shell, or a taro shoot suffice to\ncontent their simple tastes and to keep them quiet. Amongst the spirits\nto whom the people pay a sort of worship there is one named Mate, who\nseems to be closely akin to Balum, a spirit about whom we shall hear\nmore among the Yabim further to the east. However, not very much is\nknown about Mate; his worship, if it can be called so, flourishes\nchiefly among the inland tribes, of whom the coast people stand so much\nin awe that they dare not speak freely on the subject of this mysterious\nbeing. Some of them indeed are bold enough to whisper that there is no\nsuch being as Mate at all, and that the whole thing is a cheat devised\nby sly rogues for the purpose of appropriating a larger share of roast\npork at their religious feasts, from which women are excluded. Whatever\nmay be thought of these sceptical views, it appears to be certain that\nthe name of Mate is also bestowed on a number of spirits who disport\nthemselves by day in open grassy places, while they retire by night to\nthe deep shades of the forest; and the majority of these spirits are\nthought to be the souls of ancestors or of the recently departed. Again,\nthere is another class of spirits called _Nai_, who unlike all other\nspirits are on friendly terms with men. These are the souls of dead\nvillagers, who died far away from home. They warn people of danger and\nvery obligingly notify them of the coming of trading steamers. When a\nman dies in a foreign land, his soul appears as a _Nai_ to his sorrowing\nrelatives and announces his sad fate to them. He does so always at\nnight. When the men are gathered round the fire on the open square of\nthe village, the ghost climbs the platform which usually serves for\npublic meetings and banquets, and from this coin of vantage, plunged in\nthe deep shadow, he lifts up his voice and delivers his message of\nwarning, news, or prediction, as the case may be.[396]\n\n[Sidenote: The creator Nemunemu. Sickness and death often regarded as\nthe effects of sorcery.]\n\nHowever, ghosts of the dead are not the only spiritual beings with whom\nthese people are acquainted. They know of a much higher being, of the\nname of Nemunemu, endowed with superhuman power, who made the heaven and\nthe earth with the assistance of two brothers; the elder brother\nconstructed the mainland of New Guinea, while the younger fashioned the\nislands and the sea. When the natives first saw a steamer on the horizon\nthey thought it was Nemunemu's ship, and the smoke at the funnel they\ntook to be the tobacco-smoke which he puffed to beguile the tedium of\nthe voyage.[397] They are also great believers in magic and witchcraft,\nand cases of sickness and death, which are not attributed to the\nmalignity of ghosts and spirits, are almost invariably set down to the\nmachinations of sorcerers. Only the deaths of decrepit old folks are\nregarded as natural. When a man has died, and his death is believed to\nhave been caused by magic, the people resort to divination in order to\ndiscover the wicked magician who has perpetrated the crime. For this\npurpose they place the corpse on a bier, cover it with a mat, and set it\non the shoulders of four men, while a fifth man taps lightly with an\narrow on the mat and enquires of the departed whether such and such a\nvillage has bewitched him to death. If the bier remains still, it means\n\"No\"; but if it rocks backward and forward, it means \"Yes,\" and the\navengers of blood must seek their victim, the guilty sorcerer, in that\nvillage. The answer is believed to be given by the dead man's ghost, who\nstirs his body at the moment when his murderer's village is named. It is\nuseless for the inhabitants of that village to disclaim all knowledge of\nthe sickness and death of the deceased. The people repose implicit faith\nin this form of divination. \"His soul itself told us,\" they say, and\nsurely he ought to know. Another form of divination which they employ\nfor the same purpose is to put the question to the ghost, while two men\nhold a bow which belonged to him and to which some personal articles of\nhis are attached. The answer is again yes or no according as the bow\nmoves or is still.[398]\n\n[Sidenote: Funeral and mourning customs.]\n\nWhen the author of the death has been discovered in one way or another,\nthe corpse is decked with all the ornaments that can be collected from\nthe relatives and prepared for burial. A shallow grave is dug under the\nhouse and lined with mats. Then the body is lowered into the grave: one\nof the sextons strikes up a lament, and the shrill voices of the women\nin the house join in the melancholy strain. When he lies in his narrow\nbed, the ornaments are removed from his person, but some of his tools,\nweapons, and other belongings are buried with him, no doubt for his use\nin the life hereafter. The funeral celebration, in which the whole\nvillage commonly takes part, lasts several days and consists in the\nbringing of offerings to the dead and the abstinence from all labour in\nthe fields. Yams are brought from the field of the departed and cooked.\nA small pot filled with yams and a vessel of water are placed on the\ngrave; the rest of the provisions is consumed by the mourners. The next\nof kin, especially the widow or widower, remain for about a week at the\ngrave, watching day and night, lest the body should be dug up and\ndevoured by a certain foul fiend with huge wings and long claws, who\nbattens on corpses. The mourning costume of men consists in smearing the\nface with black and wearing a cord round the neck and a netted cap on\nthe head. Instead of such a cap a woman in mourning wraps herself in a\nlarge net and a great apron of grass. While the other ensigns of woe are\nsoon discarded or disappear, the cord about the neck is worn for a\nlonger time, generally till next harvest. The sacrifice of a pig brings\nthe period of mourning to an end and after it the cord may be laid\naside. If any one were so hard-hearted as not to wear that badge of\nsorrow, the people believe that the angry ghost would come back and\nfetch him away. He would die.[399] Thus among these savages the mourning\ncostume is regarded as a protection against the dangerous ghost of the\ndeparted; it soothes his wounded feelings and prevents him from making\nraids on the living.\n\n[Sidenote: Fate of the souls of the dead.]\n\nAs to the place to which the souls of the dead repair and the fate that\nawaits them there, very vague and contradictory ideas prevail among the\nnatives of this district. Some say that the ghosts go eastward to Bukaua\non Huon Gulf and there lead a shadowy life very like their life on\nearth. Others think that the spirits hover near the village where they\nlived in the flesh. Others again are of opinion that they transmigrate\ninto animals and prolong their life in one or other of the bodies of the\nlower creatures.[400]\n\n[Sidenote: The Yabim and Bukaua tribes.]\n\nLeaving Cape King William we pass eastward along the coast of German New\nGuinea and come to Finsch Harbour. From a point some miles to the north\nof Finsch Harbour as far as Samoa Harbour on Huon Gulf the coast is\ninhabited by two kindred tribes, the Yabim and the Bukaua, who speak a\nMelanesian language. I shall deal first with the Yabim tribe, whose\ncustoms and beliefs have been described for us with a fair degree of\nfulness by two German missionaries, Mr. Konrad Vetter and Mr. Heinrich\nZahn.[401] The following account is based chiefly on the writings of Mr.\nVetter, whose mission station is at the village of Simbang.\n\n[Sidenote: Material and artistic culture of the Yabim.]\n\nLike the other natives of New Guinea the Yabim build permanent houses,\nlive in settled villages, and till the ground. Every year they make a\nfresh clearing in the forest by cutting down the trees, burning the\nfallen timber, and planting taro, bananas, sugar-cane, and tobacco in\nthe open glade. When the crops have been reaped, the place is abandoned,\nand is soon overgrown again by the rank tropical vegetation, while the\nnatives move on to another patch, which they clear and cultivate in like\nmanner. This rude mode of tillage is commonly practised by many savages,\nespecially within the tropics. Cultivation of this sort is migratory,\nand in some places, though apparently not in New Guinea, the people\nshift their habitations with their fields as they move on from one part\nof the forest to another. Among the Yabim the labour of clearing a patch\nfor cultivation is performed by all the men of a village in common, but\nwhen the great trees have fallen with a crash to the ground, and the\ntrunks, branches, foliage and underwood have been burnt, with a roar of\nflames and a crackling like a rolling fire of musketry, each family\nappropriates a portion of the clearing for its own use and marks off its\nboundaries with sticks. But they also subsist in part by fishing, and\nfor this purpose they build outrigger canoes. They display considerable\nskill and taste in wood-carving, and are fond of ornamenting their\nhouses, canoes, paddles, tools, spears, and drums with figures of\ncrocodiles, fish, and other patterns.[402]\n\n[Sidenote: Men's clubhouses (_lum_).]\n\nThe villages are divided into wards, and every ward contains its\nclubhouse for men, called a _lum_, in which young men and lads are\nobliged to pass the night. It consists of a bedroom above and a parlour\nwith fireplaces below. In the parlour the grown men pass their leisure\nhours during the day, and here the councils are held. The wives cook the\nfood at home and bring it for their husbands to the clubhouse. The\nbull-roarers which are used at the initiatory ceremonies are kept in the\nprincipal clubhouse of the village. Such a clubhouse serves as an\nasylum; men fleeing from the avenger of blood who escape into it are\nsafe. It is said that the spirit (_balum_) has swallowed or concealed\nthem. But if they steal out of it and attempt to make their way to\nanother village, they carry their life in their hand.[403] Among the\nYabim, according to Mr. Zahn, religion in the proper sense does not\nexist, but on the other hand the whole people is dominated by the fear\nof witchcraft and of the spirits of the dead.[404] The following is the\naccount which Mr. Vetter gives of the beliefs and customs of these\npeople concerning the departed.\n\n[Sidenote: Beliefs of the Yabim concerning the state of the dead. The\nghostly ferry.]\n\nThey do not believe that death is the end of all things for the\nindividual; they think that his soul survives and becomes a spirit or\nghost, which they call a _balum_. The life of human spirits in the other\nworld is a shadowy continuation of the life on earth, and as such it has\nlittle attraction for the mind of the Papuan. Of heaven and hell, a\nplace of reward and a place of punishment for the souls of the good and\nbad respectively, he has no idea. However, his world of the dead is to\nsome extent divided into compartments. In one of them reside the ghosts\nof people who have been slain, in another the ghosts of people who have\nbeen hanged, and in a third the ghosts of people who have been devoured\nby a shark or a crocodile. How many more compartments there may be for\nthe accommodation of the souls, we are not told. The place is in one of\nthe islands of Siasi. No living man has ever set foot in the island, for\nsmoke and mist hang over it perpetually; but from out the mist you may\nhear the sound of the barking of dogs, the grunting of swine, and the\ncrowing of cocks, which seems to shew that in the opinion of these\npeople animals have immortal souls as well as men. The natives of the\nSiasi islands say that the newly arrived ghosts may often be seen\nstrolling on the beach; sometimes the people can even recognise the\nfamiliar features of friends with whom they did business in the flesh.\nThe mode in which the spirits of the dead arrive at their destination\nfrom the mainland is naturally by a ferry: indeed, the prow of the\nghostly ferry-boat may be seen to this day in the village of Bogiseng.\nThe way in which it came to be found there was this. A man of the\nvillage lay dying, and on his deathbed he promised to give his friends a\nsign of his continued existence after death by appearing as a ghost in\ntheir midst. Only he stipulated that in order to enable him to do so\nthey would place a stone club in the hand of his corpse. This was done.\nHe died, the club was placed in his cold hand, and his sorrowing but\nhopeful relations awaited results. They had not very long to wait. For\nno sooner had the ghost, armed with the stone club, stepped down to the\nsea-shore than he called imperiously for the ferry-boat. It soon hove in\nsight, with the ghostly ferryman in it paddling to the beach to receive\nthe passenger. But when the prow grated on the pebbles, the artful\nghost, instead of stepping into it as he should have done, lunged out at\nit with the stone club so forcibly that he broke the prow clean off. In\na rage the ferryman roared out to him, \"I won't put you across! You and\nyour people shall be kangaroos.\" The ghost had gained his point. He\nturned back from the ferry and brought to his friends as a trophy the\nprow of the ghostly canoe, which is treasured in the village to this\nday. I should add that the prow in question bears a suspicious\nresemblance to a powder-horn which has been floating about for some time\nin the water; but no doubt this resemblance is purely fortuitous and\nwithout any deep significance.\n\n[Sidenote: Transmigration of human souls into animals.]\n\nFrom this veracious narrative we gather that sometimes the souls of the\ndead, instead of going away to the spirit-land, transmigrate into the\nbodies of animals. The case of the kangaroos is not singular. In the\nvillage of Simbang Mr. Vetter knows two families, of whom the ghosts\npass at death into the carcases of crocodiles and a species of fabulous\npigs respectively. Hence members of the one family are careful not to\ninjure crocodiles, lest the souls of their dead should chance to be\nlodged in the reptiles; and the members of the other family would be\nequally careful not to hurt the fabulous pigs if ever they fell in with\nthem. However, the crocodile people, not to be behind their neighbours,\nassert that after death their spirits can also roam about the wood as\nghosts and go to the spirit-land. In explanation they say that every\nhuman being has two souls; one of them is his reflection on the water,\nthe other is his shadow on the land. No doubt it is the water-soul which\ngoes to the island of Siasi, while the land-soul is free to occupy the\nbody of a crocodile, a kangaroo, or some other animal.[405]\n\n[Sidenote: Return of the ghosts.]\n\nBut even when the ghosts have departed to their island home, they are by\nno means strictly confined to it. They can return, especially at night,\nto roam about the woods and the villages, and the living are very much\nafraid of them, for the ghosts delight in doing mischief. It is\nespecially in the first few days after a death that the ghost is an\nobject of terror, for he is then still loitering about the village.\nDuring these days everybody is afraid to go alone into the forest for\nfear of meeting him, and if a dog or a pig strays in the wood and is\nlost, the people make sure that the ghost has made off with the animal,\nand the aggrieved owners roundly abuse the sorrowing family, telling\nthem that their old father or mother, as the case may be, is no better\nthan a thief. They are also very unwilling to mention the names of dead\npersons, imagining that were the ghost to hear his name pronounced he\nmight fancy he was being called for and might accordingly suspend his\nhabitual occupation of munching sour fruits in the forest to come and\ntrouble the living.\n\n[Sidenote: Offerings to ghosts.]\n\nHence in order to keep the short-tempered ghost in good humour by\nsatisfying his wants, lest he should think himself neglected and wreak\nhis vexation on the survivors, the people go a-fishing after a death, or\nthey kill a pig or a dog; sometimes also they cut down a fruit-tree. But\nit is only the souls of the animals which are destined for the\nconsumption of the ghost; their bodies are roasted and eaten by the\nliving. On a grave you may sometimes see a small basket suspended from a\nstick; but if you look into it you will find nothing but a little soot\nand some fish scales, which is all that remains of the fried fish.\n\n[Sidenote: Ghosts provided with fire.]\n\nThe Yabim also imagine that the ghost has need of fire to guide him to\nthe door of the man who has done him to death by sorcery. Accordingly\nthey provide the spirit with this necessary as follows. On the evening\nof the day on which the body has been buried, they kindle a fire on a\npotsherd and heap dry leaves on it. As they do so they mention the names\nof all the sorcerers they can think of, and he at whose name the\nsmouldering leaves burst into a bright flame is the one who has done the\ndeed. Having thus ascertained the true cause of death, beyond reach of\ncavil, they proceed to light up the ghost to the door of his murderer.\nFor this purpose a procession is formed. A man, holding the smouldering\nfire in the potsherd with one hand and a bundle of straw with the other,\nleads the way. He is followed by another who draws droning notes from a\nwater-bottle of the deceased, which he finally smashes. After these two\nmarch a number of young fellows who make a plumping sound by smacking\ntheir thighs with the hollow of their hands. This solemn procession\nwends its way to a path in the neighbouring forest. By this time the\nshades of night have fallen. The firebearer now sets the fire on the\nground and calls on the ghost to come and take it. They firmly believe\nthat he does so and that having got it he hies away to cast the glowing\nembers down at the door of the man who has done him to death. They even\nfancy they see the flickering light carried by the invisible hand\nretreating through the shadows into the depth of the forest; and in\norder to follow it with their eyes they will sometimes climb tall trees\nor launch a canoe and put out to sea, gazing intently at the glimmering\nray till it vanishes from their sight in the darkness. Perhaps the gleam\nof fire-flies, which abound in these tropical forests, or the flashing\nof a meteor, as it silently drops from the starry heaven into the sea,\nmay serve to feed this superstitious fancy.[406]\n\n[Sidenote: Ghosts thought to help in the cultivation of the land.]\n\nBut the spirits of the dead are supposed to be able to help as well as\nharm the living. Good crops and a successful hunt are attributed to\ntheir influence. It is especially the spirits of the ancient owners of\nthe land who are credited with the power of promoting the growth of the\ncrops. Hence when a clearing has been made in the forest and planted\nwith taro, and the plants are shewing a good head of leaves,\npreparations are made to feast the ghosts of the people to whom the land\nbelonged in days gone by. For this purpose a sago-palm is cut down,\nsago-porridge made, and a wild boar killed. Then the men arrayed in all\ntheir finery march out in solemn procession by day to the taro field;\nand the leader invites the spirits in a loud voice to come to the\nvillage and partake of the sago-porridge and pork that have been made\nready for them. But the invisible guests content themselves as usual\nwith snuffing up the fragrant smell of the roast pork and the steam of\nthe porridge; the substance of these dainties is consumed by the living.\nYet the help which the ghosts give in the cultivation of the land would\nseem to be conceived as a purely negative one; the offerings are made to\nthem for the purpose of inducing them to keep away and not injure the\ngrowing crops. It is also believed that the ghosts of the dead make\ncommunications to the living in dreams or by whistling, and even that\nthey can bring things to their friends and relations. But on the whole,\nMr. Vetter tells us, the dominant attitude of the living to the dead is\none of fear; the power of the ghosts is oftener exerted for evil than\nfor good.[407] The ghost of a murdered man in particular is dreaded,\nbecause he is believed to haunt his murderer and to do him a mischief.\nHence they drive away such a dangerous ghost with shouts and the beating\nof drums; and by way of facilitating his departure they launch a model\nof a canoe, laden with taro and tobacco, in order to transport him with\nall comfort to the land of souls.[408]\n\n[Sidenote: Burial and mourning customs among the Yabim.]\n\nAmong the Yabim the dead are usually buried in shallow graves close to\nthe houses where they died. Some trifles are laid with the body in the\ngrave, in order that the dead man or woman may have the use of them in\nthe other world. But any valuables that may be deposited with the corpse\nare afterwards dug up and appropriated by the survivors. If the deceased\nwas the householder himself or his wife, the house is almost always\ndeserted, however solidly it may be built. The reason for thus\nabandoning so valuable a piece of property is not mentioned; but we may\nassume that the motive is a fear of the ghost, who is supposed to haunt\nhis old home. A temporary hut is built on the grave, and in it the\nfamily of the deceased take up their abode for six weeks or more; here\nthey cook, eat, and sleep. A widower sits in a secluded corner by\nhimself, invisible to all and unwashed; during the period of full\nmourning he may not shew himself in the village. When he does come forth\nagain, he wears a mourning hat made of bark in the shape of a cylinder\nwithout crown or brim; a widow wears a great ugly net, which wraps her\nup almost completely from the head to the knees. Sometimes in memory of\nthe deceased they wear a lock of his hair or a bracelet. Other relations\nwear cords round their necks in sign of mourning. The period of mourning\nvaries greatly; it may last for months or even years. Sometimes the\nbodies of beloved children or persons who have been much respected are\nnot buried but tied up in bundles and set up in a house until the flesh\nhas quite mouldered away; then the skull and the bones of the arms and\nlegs are anointed, painted red, and preserved for a time. Mr. Vetter\nrecords the case of a chief whose corpse was thus preserved in the\nassembly-house of the village, after it had been dried over a fire. When\nit had been reduced to a mummy, the skull and the arm-bones and\nleg-bones were detached, oiled, and reddened, and then kept for some\nyears in the house of the chief's eldest son, till finally they were\ndeposited in the grave of a kinsman. In some of the inland villages of\nthis part of New Guinea the widow is sometimes throttled by her\nrelations at the death of her husband, in order that she may accompany\nhim to the other world.[409]\n\n[Sidenote: Deaths attributed by the Yabim to sorcery.]\n\nThe Yabim believe that except in the case of very old people every death\nis caused by sorcery; hence when anybody has departed this life, his\nrelations make haste to discover the wicked sorcerer who has killed\ntheir kinsman. For that purpose they have recourse to various forms of\ndivination. One of them has been already described, but they have\nothers. For example, they put a powder like sulphur in a piece of bamboo\ntube and kindle a fire under it. Then an old man takes a bull-roarer and\ntaps with it on the bamboo tube, naming all the sorcerers in the\nneighbouring villages. He at the mention of whose name the fire catches\nthe powder and blazes up is the guilty man. Another way of detecting the\nculprit is to attach the feather of a bird of paradise to a staff and\ngive the staff to two men to hold upright between the palms of their\nright hands. Then somebody names the sorcerers, and he at whose name the\nstaff turns round and the feather points downwards is the one who caused\nthe death. When the avengers of blood, wrought up to a high pitch of\nfury, fall in with the family of the imaginary criminal, they may put\nthe whole of them to death lest the sons should afterwards avenge their\nfather's murder by the black art. Sometimes a dangerous and dreaded\nsorcerer will be put out of the way with the connivance of the chief of\nhis own village; and after a few days the murderers will boldly shew\nthemselves in the village where the crime was perpetrated and will\nreassure the rest of the people, saying, \"Be still. The wicked man has\nbeen taken off. No harm will befall you.\"[410]\n\n[Sidenote: Bull-roarers (_balum_). Initiation of young men.]\n\nIt is very significant that the word _balum_, which means a ghost, is\napplied by the Yabim to the instrument now generally known among\nanthropologists as a bull-roarer. It is a small fish-shaped piece of\nwood which, being tied to a string and whirled rapidly round, produces a\nhumming or booming sound like the roaring of a bull or the muttering of\ndistant thunder. Instruments of this sort are employed by savages in\nmany parts of the world at their mysteries; the weird sound which the\nimplement makes when swung is supposed by the ignorant and uninitiated\nto be the voice of a spirit and serves to impress them with a sense of\nawe and mystery. So it is with the Papuans about Finsch Harbour, with\nwhom we are at present concerned. At least one such bull-roarer is kept\nin the _lum_ or bachelors' clubhouse of every village, and the women and\nuninitiated boys are forbidden to see it under pain of death. The\ninstrument plays a great part in the initiation of young men, which\ntakes place at intervals of several years, when there are a number of\nyouths ready to be initiated, and enough pigs can be procured to furnish\nforth the feasts which form an indispensable part of the ceremony. The\nprincipal initiatory rite consists of circumcision, which is performed\non all youths before they are admitted to the rank of full-grown men.\nThe age of the candidates varies considerably, from four years up to\ntwenty. Many are married before they are initiated. The operation is\nperformed in the forest, and the procession of the youths to the place\nappointed is attended by a number of men swinging bull-roarers. As the\nprocession sets out, the women look on from a distance, weeping and\nhowling, for they are taught to believe that the lads, their sons and\nbrothers, are about to be swallowed up by a monster called a _balum_ or\nghost, who will only release them from his belly on condition of\nreceiving a sufficient number of roast pigs. How, then, can the poor\nwomen be sure that they will ever see their dear ones again? So amid the\nnoise of weeping and wailing the procession passes into the forest, and\nthe booming sound of the bull-roarers dies away in the distance.\n\n[Sidenote: The rite of circumcision; the lads supposed to be swallowed\nby a monster (_balum_). The sacred flutes.]\n\nThe place where the operation is performed on the lads is a long hut,\nabout a hundred feet in length, which diminishes in height towards the\nrear. This represents the belly of the monster which is to swallow up\nthe candidates. To keep up the delusion a pair of great eyes are painted\nover the entrance, and above them the projecting roots of a betel-palm\nrepresent the monster's hair, while the trunk of the tree passes for his\nbackbone. As the awe-struck lads approach this imposing creature, he is\nheard from time to time to utter a growl. The growl is in fact no other\nthan the humming note of bull-roarers swung by men, who are concealed\nwithin the edifice. When the procession has come to a halt in front of\nthe artificial monster, a loud defiant blast blown on shell-trumpets\nsummons him to stand forth. The reply follows in the shape of another\nmuffled roar of the bull-roarers from within the building. At the sound\nthe men say that \"Balum is coming up,\" and they raise a shrill song like\na scream and sacrifice pigs to the monster in order to induce him to\nspare the lives of the candidates. When the operation has been performed\non the lads, they must remain in strict seclusion for three or four\nmonths, avoiding all contact with women and even the sight of them. They\nlive in the long hut, which represents the monster's belly, and their\nfood is brought them by elder men. Their leisure time is spent in\nweaving baskets and playing on certain sacred flutes, which are never\nused except at such seasons. The instruments are of two patterns. One is\ncalled the male and the other the female, and they are supposed to be\nmarried to each other. No woman may see these mysterious flutes; if she\ndid she would die. Even if she hears their shrill note in the distance,\nshe will hasten to hide herself in a thicket. When the initiatory\nceremonies are over, the flutes are carefully kept in the men's\nclubhouse of the village till the next time they are wanted for a\nsimilar occasion. On the other hand, if the women are obliged to go near\nthe place where the lads are living in seclusion, they beat on certain\nbamboo drums in order to warn them to keep out of the way. Sometimes,\nthough perhaps rarely, one of the lads dies under the operation; in that\ncase the men explain his disappearance to the women by saying that the\nmonster has a pig's stomach as well as a human stomach, and that\nunfortunately the deceased young man slipped by mistake into the wrong\nstomach and so perished miserably. But as a rule the candidates pass\ninto the right stomach and after a sufficient period has been allowed\nfor digestion, they come forth safe and sound, the monster having kindly\nconsented to let them go free in consideration of the roast pigs which\nhave been offered to him by the men. Indeed he is not very exacting, for\nhe contents himself with devouring the souls of the pigs, while he\nleaves their bodies to be consumed by his worshippers. This is a kindly\nand considerate way of dealing with sacrifice, which our New Guinea\nghost or monster shares with many deities of much higher social\npretensions. However, lest he should prove refractory and perhaps run\naway with the poor young men in his inside, or possibly make a dart at\nany women or children who might be passing, the men take the precaution\nof tying him down tight with ropes. When the time of seclusion is up,\none of the last acts in the long series of ceremonies is to cast off the\nropes and let the monster go free. He avails himself of his liberty to\nreturn to his subterranean abode, and the young men are brought back to\nthe village with much solemnity.\n\n[Sidenote: The return of the novices to the village.]\n\nAn eye-witness has described the ceremony. The lads, now ranking as\nfull-grown men, were first bathed in the sea and then elaborately\ndecorated with paint and so forth. In marching back to the village they\nhad to keep their eyes tightly shut, and each of them was led by a man\nwho acted as a kind of god-father. As the procession moved on, an old\nbald-headed man touched each boy solemnly on the chin and brow with a\nbull-roarer. In the village preparations for a banquet had meanwhile\nbeen made, and the women and girls were waiting in festal attire. The\nwomen were much moved at the return of the lads; they sobbed and tears\nof joy ran down their cheeks. Arrived in the village the newly-initiated\nlads were drawn up in a row and fresh palm leaves were spread in front\nof them. Here they stood with closed eyes, motionless as statues. Then a\nman passed behind them, touching each of them in the hams with the\nhandle of an axe and saying, \"O circumcised one, sit down.\" But still\nthe lads remained standing, stiff and motionless. Not till another man\nhad knocked repeatedly on the ground with the stalk of a palm-leaf,\ncrying, \"O circumcised ones, open your eyes!\" did the youths, one after\nanother, open their eyes as if awaking from a profound stupor. Then they\nsat down on the mats and partook of the food brought them by the men.\nYoung and old now ate in the open air. Next morning the circumcised lads\nwere bathed in the sea and painted red instead of white. After that they\nmight talk to women. This was the end of the ceremony.[411]\n\n[Sidenote: The essence of the initiatory rites seems to be a simulation\nof death and resurrection; the novice is supposed to be killed and to\ncome to life or be born again. The new birth among the Akikuyu of\nBritish East Africa.]\n\nThe meaning of these curious ceremonies observed on the return of the\nlads to the village is not explained by the writer who describes them;\nbut the analogy of similar ceremonies observed at initiation by many\nother races allows us to divine it with a fair degree of probability. As\nI have already observed in a former lecture, the ceremony of initiation\nat puberty is very often regarded as a process of death and\nresurrection; the candidate is supposed to die or to be killed and to\ncome to life again or be born again; and the pretence of a new birth is\nnot uncommonly kept up by the novices feigning to have forgotten all the\nmost common actions of life and having accordingly to learn them all\nover again like newborn babes. We may conjecture that this is why the\nyoung circumcised Papuans, with whom we are at present concerned, march\nback to their village with closed eyes; this is why, when bidden to sit\ndown, they remain standing stiffly, as if they understood neither the\ncommand nor the action; and this, too, we may surmise, is why their\nmothers and sisters receive them with a burst of emotion, as if their\ndead had come back to them from the grave. This interpretation of the\nceremony is confirmed by a curious rite which is observed by the Akikuyu\nof British East Africa. Amongst them every boy or girl at or about the\nage of ten years has solemnly to pretend to be born again, not in a\nmoral or religious, but in a physical sense. The mother of the child,\nor, if she is dead, some other woman, goes through an actual pantomime\nof bringing forth the boy or girl. I will spare you the details of the\npantomime, which is very graphic, and will merely mention that the\nbouncing infant squalls like a newborn babe. Now this ceremony of the\nnew birth was formerly enacted among the Akikuyu at the rite of\ncircumcision, though the two ceremonies are now kept distinct.[412]\nHence it is not very rash to conjecture that the ceremony performed by\nthe young Papuans of Finsch Harbour on their return to the village after\nundergoing circumcision is merely a way of keeping up the pretence of\nbeing born again and of being therefore as ignorant and helpless as\nbabes.\n\n[Sidenote: The mock death of the novices as a preliminary to the mock\nbirth.]\n\nBut if the end of the initiation is a mock resurrection, or rather new\nbirth, as it certainly seems to be, we may infer with some confidence\nthat the first part of it, namely the act of circumcision, is a mock\ndeath. This is borne out by the explicit statement of a very good\nauthority, Mr. Vetter, that \"the circumcision is designated as a process\nof being swallowed by the spirit, out of whose stomach (represented by a\nlong hut) the release must take place by means of a sacrifice of\npigs.\"[413] And it is further confirmed by the observation that both the\nspirit which is supposed to operate on the lads, and the bull-roarer,\nwhich apparently represents his voice, are known by the name of _balum_,\nwhich means the ghost or spirit of a dead person. Similarly, among the\nTugeri or Kaya-Kaya, a large Papuan tribe on the south coast of Dutch\nNew Guinea, the name of the bull-roarer, which they call _sosom_, is\ngiven to a mythical giant, who is supposed to appear every year with the\nsouth-east monsoon. When he comes, a festival is held in his honour and\nbull-roarers are swung. Boys are presented to the giant, and he kills\nthem, but brings them to life again.[414] Thus the initiatory rite of\ncircumcision, to which all lads have to submit among the Yabim, seems to\nbe closely bound up with their conception of death and with their belief\nin a life after death; since the whole ceremony apparently consists in a\nsimulation of dying and coming to life again. That is why I have touched\nupon these initiatory rites, which at first sight might appear to have\nno connexion with our immediate subject, the belief in immortality and\nthe worship of the dead.\n\n[Sidenote: General summary as to the Yabim.]\n\nOn the whole we may say that the Yabim have a very firm and practical\nbelief in a life after death, and that while their attitude to the\nspirits of the departed is generally one of fear, they nevertheless look\nto these spirits also for information and help on various occasions.\nThus their beliefs and practices contain at least in germ the elements\nof a worship of the dead.\n\n[Footnote 394: Stolz, \"Die Umgebung von Kap Koenig Wilhelm,\" in R.\nNeuhauss's _Deutsch New-Guinea_ (Berlin, 1911), iii. 243-286.]\n\n[Footnote 395: Stolz, _op. cit._ pp. 252-254.]\n\n[Footnote 396: Stolz, _op. cit._ pp. 245-247.]\n\n[Footnote 397: Stolz, _op. cit._ pp. 247 _sq._]\n\n[Footnote 398: Stolz, _op. cit._ pp. 248-250.]\n\n[Footnote 399: Stolz, _op. cit._ p. 258.]\n\n[Footnote 400: Stolz, _op. cit._ p. 259.]\n\n[Footnote 401: K. Vetter, in _Komm herueber und hilf uns! oder die Arbeit\nder Neuen-Dettelsauer Mission_, Nos. 1-4 (Barmen, 1898); _id._, in\n_Nachrichten ueber Kaiser Wilhelms-Land_, 1897, pp. 86-102; _id._, in\n_Mitteilungen der Geographischen Gesellschaft zu Jena_, xi. (Jena, 1892)\npp. 102-106; _id._, in _Mitteilungen der Geographischen Gesellschaft zu\nJena_, xii. (Jena, 1893) pp. 95-97; H. Zahn, \"Die Jabim,\" in R.\nNeuhauss's _Deutsch Neu-Guinea_, iii (Berlin, 1911) pp. 287-394.]\n\n[Footnote 402: K. Vetter, _Komm herueber und hilf uns!_ ii. (Barmen,\n1898) pp. 6-12.]\n\n[Footnote 403: K. Vetter, _op. cit._ ii. 8; H. Zahn, \"Die Jabim,\" in R.\nNeuhauss's _Deutsch Neu-Guinea_, iii. 291, 308, 311.]\n\n[Footnote 404: H. Zahn, _op. cit._ iii. 291.]\n\n[Footnote 405: K. Vetter, _Komm herueber und hilf uns!_ iii. 21 _sq._\nAccording to Mr. H. Zahn (_op. cit._ p. 324) every village has its own\nentrance into the spirit-land.]\n\n[Footnote 406: K. Vetter, _Komm herueber und hilf uns!_ iii. 19-24;\n_id._, in _Mitteilungen der Geographischen Gesellschaft zu Jena_, xii.\n(1893) pp. 96 _sq._]\n\n[Footnote 407: K. Vetter, _Komm herueber und hilf uns!_ ii. 7, iii. 24;\n_id._, in _Nachrichten ueber Kaiser Wilhelms-Land und den\nBismarck-Archipel_, 1897, p. 94.]\n\n[Footnote 408: K. Vetter, in _Nachrichten ueber Kaiser Wilhelms-Land_,\n1897, p. 94.]\n\n[Footnote 409: K. Vetter, in _Nachrichten ueber Kaiser Wilhelms-Land_,\n1897, pp. 94 _sq._; _id._, _Komm herueber und hilf uns!_ iii. 15-19.\nCompare H. Zahn, \"Die Jabim,\" in R. Neuhauss's _Deutsch Neu-Guinea_,\niii. 320 _sq._]\n\n[Footnote 410: H. Zahn, \"Die Jabim,\" in R. Neuhauss's _Deutsch\nNeu-Guinea_, iii. 318-320.]\n\n[Footnote 411: K. Vetter, in _Nachrichten ueber Kaiser Wilhelms-Land und\nden Bismarck-Archipel_, 1897, pp. 92 _sq._; _id._, in _Mitteilungen der\nGeographischen Gesellschaft zu Jena_, xi. (1892) p. 105; _id._, _Komm\nherueber und hilf uns!_ ii. (1898) p. 18; _id._, cited by M. Krieger,\n_Neu-Guinea_, pp. 167-170; O. Schellong, \"Das Barlum (_sic_)-fest der\nGegend Finsch-hafens (Kaiserwilhelmsland), ein Beitrag zur Kenntniss der\nBeschneidung der Melanesier,\" _Internationales Archiv fuer Ethnographie_,\nii. (1889) pp. 145-162; H. Zahn, \"Die Jabim,\" in R. Neuhauss's _Deutsch\nNeu-Guinea_, iii. 296-298.]\n\n[Footnote 412: W. S. Routledge and K. Routledge, _With a Prehistoric\nPeople, the Akikuyu of British East Africa_ (London, 1910), pp. 151\n_sq._ Compare _Totemism and Exogamy_, iv. 228; C. W. Hobley, \"Kikuyu\nCustoms and Beliefs,\" _Journal of the Royal Anthropological Institute_,\nxl. (1910) pp. 440 _sq._]\n\n[Footnote 413: K. Vetter, in _Nachrichten ueber Kaiser Wilhelmsland und\nden Bismarck-Archipel_, 1897, p. 93.]\n\n[Footnote 414: R. Poech, \"Vierter Bericht ueber meine Reise nach\nNeu-Guinea,\" _Sitzungsberichte der mathematisch-naturwissenschaftlichen\nKlasse der Kaiserlichen Akademie der Wissenschaften_ (Vienna), cxv.\n(1906) Abteilung 1, pp. 901, 902.]\n\n\n\n\nLECTURE XII\n\nTHE BELIEF IN IMMORTALITY AMONG THE NATIVES OF GERMAN NEW GUINEA\n(_continued_)\n\n\n[Sidenote: The Bukaua of German New Guinea.]\n\nIn the last lecture I described the beliefs and practices concerning the\ndead as they are to be found among the Yabim of German New Guinea.\nTo-day we begin with the Bukaua, a kindred and neighbouring tribe, which\noccupies the coast lands of the northern portion of Huon Gulf from\nSchollenbruch Point to Samoa Harbour. The language which the Bukaua\nspeak belongs, like the language of the Yabim, to the Melanesian, not to\nthe Papuan family. Their customs and beliefs have been reported by a\nGerman missionary, Mr. Stefan Lehner, whose account I follow.[415] In\nmany respects they closely resemble those of their neighbours the Yabim.\n\n[Sidenote: Means of subsistence of the Bukaua. Men's clubhouses.]\n\nThe Bukaua are an agricultural people who subsist mainly on the crops of\ntaro which they raise. But they also cultivate many kinds of bananas and\nvegetables, together with sugar-cane, sago, and tobacco. From time to\ntime they cut down and burn the forest in order to obtain fresh fields\nfor cultivation. The land is not held in common. Each family has its own\nfields and patches of forest, and would resent the intrusion of others\non their hereditary domain. Hunting and fishing supply them with animal\nfood to eke out the vegetable nourishment which they draw from their\nfields and plantations.[416] Every village contains one or more of the\nmen's clubhouses which are a common feature in the social life of the\ntribes on this coast. In these clubhouses the young men are obliged to\nsleep, and on the platforms in front of them the older men hold their\ncouncils. Such a clubhouse is called a _lum_.[417]\n\n[Sidenote: Beliefs of the Bukaua concerning the souls of the dead.\nSickness and disease attributed to ghostly agency.]\n\nThe Bukaua have a firm belief in the existence of the human soul after\ndeath. They think that a man's soul can even quit his body temporarily\nin his lifetime during sleep or a swoon, and that in its disembodied\nstate it can appear to people at a distance; but such apparitions are\nregarded as omens of approaching death, when the soul will depart for\ngood and all. The soul of a dead man is called a _balum_. The spirits of\nthe departed are believed to be generally mischievous and spiteful to\nthe living, but they can be appeased by sacrifice, and other measures\ncan be taken to avert their dangerous influence.[418] They are very\ntouchy, and if they imagine that they are not honoured enough by their\nkinsfolk, and that the offerings made to them are insufficient, they\nwill avenge the slight by visiting their disrespectful and stingy\nrelatives with sickness and disease. Among the maladies which the\nnatives ascribe to the anger of ghosts are epilepsy, fainting fits, and\nwasting decline.[419] When a man suffers from a sore which he believes\nto have been inflicted on him by a ghost, he will take a stone from the\nfence of the grave and heat it in the fire, saying: \"Father, see, thou\nhast gone, I am left, I must till the land in thy stead and care for my\nbrothers and sisters. Do me good again.\" Then he dips the hot stone in a\npuddle on the grave, and holds his sore in the steam which rises from\nit. His pain is eased thereby and he explains the alleviation which he\nfeels by saying, \"The spirit of the dead man has eaten up the\nwound.\"[420]\n\n[Sidenote: Sickness and death often ascribed by the Bukaua to sorcery.]\n\nBut like most savages the Bukaua attribute many illnesses and many\ndeaths not to the wrath of ghosts but to the malignant arts of\nsorcerers; and in such cases they usually endeavour by means of\ndivination to ascertain the culprit and to avenge the death of their\nfriend by taking the life of his imaginary murderer.[421] If they fail\nto exact vengeance, the ghost is believed to be very angry, and they\nmust be on their guard against him. He may meet them anywhere, but is\nespecially apt to dog the footsteps of the sorcerer who killed him.\nHence when on the occasion of a great feast the sorcerer comes to the\nvillage of his victim, the surviving relatives of the dead man are at\nparticular pains to protect themselves and their property against the\ninsidious attacks of the prowling ghost. For this purpose they bury a\ncreeper with white blossoms in the path leading to the village; the\nghost is thought to be filled with fear at the sight of it and to turn\nback, leaving his kinsfolk, their dogs, and pigs in peace.[422]\n\n[Sidenote: Fear of the ghosts of the slain.]\n\nAnother class of ghosts who are much dreaded are the spirits of slain\nfoes. They are believed to pursue their slayers to the village and to\nblind them so that sooner or later they fall an easy prey to their\nenemies. Hence when a party of warriors has returned home from a\nsuccessful attack on a village, in which they have butchered all on whom\nthey could lay their hands, they kindle a great fire, dance wildly about\nit, and hurl burning brands in the direction of the battlefield in order\nto keep the ghosts of their slaughtered foes at bay. Phosphorescent\nlights seen under the houses throw the inmates into great alarm, for\nthey are thought to be the souls of the slain. Sometimes the vanquished\nin battle resort to a curious ruse for the purpose of avenging\nthemselves on the victors by means of a ghost. They take the\nsleeping-mat of one of the slain, roll it up in a bundle along with his\nloin-cloth, apron, netted bag, or head-rest, and give the bundle to two\ncripples to carry. Then they steal quietly to the landing-place of their\nfoes, peering warily about lest they should be observed. The bundle\nrepresents the dead man, and the cripples who carry it reel to and fro,\nand finally sink to the ground with their burden. In this way the ghost\nof the victim, whose things are carried in the bundle, is supposed to\nmake their enemies weak and tottery. Strong young men are not given the\nbundle to carry, lest the ghost should spoil their manly figures;\nwhereas if he should wound or maim a couple of poor cripples, no great\nharm is done.[423]\n\n[Sidenote: Ghosts of ancestors appealed to for help, especially in the\ncultivation of the ground. First-fruits offered to the spirits of the\ndead.]\n\nHowever, the Bukaua also look on the ghosts of their ancestors in a more\namiable light as beings who, if properly appealed to, can and will help\nthem in the affairs of life, especially by procuring for them good\ncrops. Hence when they are planting their fields, which are formed in\nclearings of the forest, they take particular care to insert shoots of\nall their crops in the ground near the tree stumps which remain\nstanding, because the souls of their dead grandfathers and\ngreat-grandfathers are believed to be sitting on the stumps watching\ntheir descendants at their work. Accordingly in the act of planting they\ncall out the names of these forefathers and pray them to guard the field\nin order that their living children may have food and not suffer from\nhunger. And at harvest, when the first-fruits of the taro, bananas,\nsugar-cane, and so forth have been brought back from the fields, a\nportion of them is offered in a bowl to the spirits of the forefathers\nin the house of the landowner, and the spirits are addressed in prayer\nas follows: \"O ye who have guarded our field as we prayed you to do,\nthere is something for you; now and henceforth behold us with favour.\"\nWhile the family are feasting on the rest of the first-fruits, the\nhouseholder will surreptitiously stir the offerings in the bowl with his\nfinger, and will then shew the bowl to the others as a proof that the\nsouls of the dead have really partaken of the good things provided for\nthem.[424] A hunter will also pray to his dead father to drive the wild\npigs into his net.[425]\n\n[Sidenote: Burial and mourning customs of the Bukaua.]\n\nThe Bukaua bury their dead in shallow graves, which are sometimes dug\nunder the houses but more usually in front of or beside them. Along with\nthe corpses are deposited bags of taro, nuts, drinking-vessels, and\nother articles of daily use. Only the stone axes are too valuable to be\nthus sacrificed. Over the grave is erected a rude hut in which the\nwidower, if the deceased was a married woman, remains for a time in\nseclusion. A widow on the death of her husband remains in the house.\nWidow and widower may not shew themselves in public until they have\nprepared their mourning costume. The widower wears a black hat made of\nbark, cords round his neck, wicker work on his arms and feet, and a torn\nold bracelet of his wife in a bag on his breast. A widow is completely\nswathed in nets, one over the other, and she carries about with her the\nloincloth of her deceased husband. The souls of the dead dwell in a\nsubterranean region called _lamboam_, and their life there seems to\nresemble life here on earth; but the ideas of the people on the subject\nare very vague.[426]\n\n[Sidenote: Initiation of young men among the Bukaua. Lads at\ncircumcision supposed to be swallowed by a monster.]\n\nThe customs and beliefs of the Bukaua in regard to the initiation of\nyoung men are practically identical with those of their neighbours the\nYabim. Indeed the initiatory ceremonies are performed by the tribes\njointly, now in the territory of the Bukaua, now in the territory of the\nYabim, or in the land of the Kai, a tribe of mountaineers, or again in\nthe neighbouring Tami islands. The intervals between the ceremonies vary\nfrom ten to eighteen years.[427] The central feature of the initiatory\nrites is the circumcision of the novices. It is given out that the lads\nare swallowed by a ferocious monster called a _balum_, who, however, is\ninduced by the sacrifice of many pigs to vomit them up again. In spewing\nthem out of his maw he bites or scratches them, and the wound so\ninflicted is circumcision. This explanation of the rite is fobbed off on\nthe women, who more or less believe it and weep accordingly when their\nsons are led away to be committed to the monster's jaws. And when the\ntime for the ceremony is approaching, the fond mothers busy themselves\nwith rearing and fattening young pigs, so that they may be able with\nthem to redeem their loved ones from the belly of the ravenous beast;\nfor he must have a pig for every boy. When a lad bleeds to death from\nthe effect of the operation, he is secretly buried, and his sorrowful\nmother is told that the monster swallowed him and refused to bring him\nup again. What really happens is that the youths are shut up for several\nmonths in a house specially built for the purpose in the village. During\ntheir seclusion they are under the charge of guardians, usually two\nyoung men, and must observe strictly a rule of fasting and chastity.\nWhen they are judged to be ready to undergo the rite, they are led forth\nand circumcised in front of the house amid a prodigious uproar made by\nthe swinging of bull-roarers. The noise is supposed to be the voice of\nthe monster who swallows and vomits up the novice at circumcision. The\nbull-roarer as well as the monster bears the name of _balum_, and the\nbuilding in which the novices are lodged before and after the operation\nis called the monster's house (_balumslum_). After they have been\ncircumcised the lads remain in the house for several months till their\nwounds are healed; then, painted and bedizened with all the ornaments\nthat can be collected, they are brought back and restored to their\njoyful mothers. Women must vacate the village for a long time while the\ninitiatory ceremonies are being performed.[428]\n\n[Sidenote: Novices at circumcision supposed to be killed and then\nrestored to a new and higher life.]\n\nThe meaning of the whole rite, as I pointed out in dealing with the\nsimilar initiatory rite of the Yabim, appears to be that the novices are\nkilled and then restored to a new and better life; for after their\ninitiation they rank no longer as boys but as full-grown men, entitled\nto all the privileges of manhood and citizenship, if we can speak of\nsuch a thing as citizenship among the savages of New Guinea. This\ninterpretation of the rite is supported by the notable fact that the\nBukaua, like the Yabim, give the name of _balum_ to the souls of the\ndead as well as to the mythical monster and to the bull-roarer; this\nshews how intimately the three things are associated in their minds.\nIndeed not only is the bull-roarer in general associated with the souls\nof the dead by a community of name, but among the Bukaua each particular\nbull-roarer bears in addition the name of a particular dead man and\nvaries in dignity and importance with the dignity and importance of the\ndeceased person whom it represents. The most venerated of all are\ncuriously carved and have been handed down for generations; they bear\nthe names of famous warriors or magicians of old and are supposed to\nreproduce the personal peculiarities of the celebrated originals in\ntheir shape and tones. And there are smaller bull-roarers which emit\nshriller notes and are thought to represent the shrill-voiced wives of\nthe ancient heroes.[429]\n\n[Sidenote: The Kai tribe of Saddle Mountain in German New Guinea. The\nland of the Kai. Their mode of cultivation. Their villages.]\n\nThe Bukaua and the Yabim, the two tribes with which I have been dealing\nin this and the last lecture, inhabit, as I have said, the coast about\nFinsch Harbour and speak a Melanesian language. We now pass from them to\nthe consideration of another people, belonging to a different stock and\nspeaking a different language, who inhabit the rugged and densely wooded\nmountains inland from Finsch Harbour. Their neighbours on the coast call\nthese mountaineers by the name of Kai, a word which signifies forest or\ninland in opposition to the seashore; and this name of the tribe we may\nadopt, following the example of a German missionary, Mr. Ch. Keysser,\nwho has laboured among them for more than eleven years and has given us\nan excellent description of their customs and beliefs. His account\napplies particularly to the natives of what is called Saddle Mountain,\nthe part of the range which advances nearest to the coast and rises to\nthe height of about three thousand feet. It is a rough, broken country,\ncleft by many ravines and covered with forest, bush, or bamboo thickets;\nthough here and there at rare intervals some brown patches mark the\nclearings which the sparse inhabitants have made for the purpose of\ncultivation. Water is plentiful. Springs gush forth everywhere in the\nglens and valleys, and rushing streams of crystal-clear water pour down\nthe mountain sides, and in the clefts of the hills are lonely tarns, the\nundisturbed haunts of wild ducks and other water fowl. During the wet\nseason, which extends from June to August, the rain descends in sheets\nand the mountains are sometimes covered for weeks together with so thick\na mist that all prospect is cut off at the distance of a hundred yards.\nThe natives are then loth to leave their huts and will spend the day\ncrouching over a fire. They are a shorter and sturdier race than the\ntribes on the coast; the expression of their face is less frank and\nagreeable, and their persons are very much dirtier. They belong to the\naboriginal Papuan stock, whereas the Yabim and Bukaua on the coast are\nprobably immigrants from beyond the sea, who have driven the indigenous\npopulation back into the mountains.[430] Their staple foods are taro and\nyams, which they grow in their fields. A field is cultivated for only\none year at a time; it is then allowed to lie fallow and is soon\novergrown with rank underwood. Six or eight years may elapse before it\nis again cleared and brought under cultivation. Game and fish abound in\nthe woods and waters, and the Kai make free use of these natural\nresources. They keep pigs and dogs, and eat the flesh of both. Pork is\nindeed a favourite viand, figuring largely in the banquets which are\nheld at the circumcision festivals.[431] The people live in small\nvillages, each village comprising from two to six houses. The houses are\nraised on piles and the walls are usually constructed of pandanus\nleaves, though many natives now make them of boards. After eighteen\nmonths or two years the houses are so rotten and tumble-down that the\nvillage is deserted and a new one built on another site. Assembly-houses\nare erected only for the circumcision ceremonies, and the bull-roarers\nused on these occasions are kept in them. Husband and wife live\ntogether, often two couples in one hut; but each family has its own side\nof the house and its own fireplace. In times of insecurity the Kai used\nto build their huts for safety among the spreading boughs of great\ntrees. A whole village, consisting of three or four huts, might thus be\nquartered on a single tree. Of late years, with the peace and protection\nfor life introduced by German rule, these tree-houses have gone out of\nfashion.[432]\n\n[Sidenote: Observations of a German missionary on the animistic beliefs\nof the Kai.]\n\nAfter describing the manners and customs of the Kai people at some\nlength, the German missionary, who knows them intimately, proceeds to\ngive us a very valuable account of their old native religion or\nsuperstition. He prefaces his account with some observations, the fruit\nof long experience, which deserve to be laid to heart by all who attempt\nto penetrate into the inner life, the thoughts, the feelings, the\nmotives of savages. As his remarks are very germane to the subject of\nthese lectures, I will translate them. He says: \"In the preceding\nchapters I have sketched the daily life of the Kai people. But I have\nnot attempted to set forth the reasons for their conduct, which is often\nvery peculiar and unintelligible. The explanation of that conduct lies\nin the animistic view which the Papuan takes of the world. It must be\nmost emphatically affirmed that nobody can judge the native aright who\nhas not gained an insight into what we may call his religious opinions.\nThe native must be described as very religious, although his ideas do\nnot coincide with ours. His feelings, thoughts, and will are most\nintimately connected with his belief in souls. With that belief he is\nborn, he has sucked it in with his mother's milk, and from the\nstandpoint of that belief he regards the things and occurrences that\nmeet him in life; by that belief he regulates his behaviour. An\nobjective way of looking at events is unknown to him; everything is\nbrought by him into relation to his belief, and by it he seeks to\nexplain everything that to him seems strange and rare.\"[433] \"The\nlabyrinth of animistic customs at first sight presents an appearance of\nwild confusion to him who seeks to penetrate into them and reduce them\nto order; but on closer inspection he will soon recognise certain\nguiding lines. These guiding lines are the laws of animism, which have\npassed into the flesh and blood of the Papuan and influence his thought\nand speech, his acts and his omissions, his love and hate, in short his\nwhole life and death. When once we have discovered these laws, the whole\nof the superstitious nonsense falls into an orderly system which compels\nus to regard it with a certain respect that increases in proportion to\nthe contempt in which we had previously held the people. We need not\nwonder, moreover, that the laws of animism partially correspond to\ngeneral laws of nature.\"[434]\n\n[Sidenote: The essential rationality of the savage.]\n\nThus according to Mr. Keysser, who has no theory to maintain and merely\ngives us in this passage the result of long personal observation, the\nKai savages are thinking, reasoning men, whose conduct, however strange\nand at first sight unintelligible it may appear to us, is really based\non a definite religious or if you please superstitious view of the\nworld. It is true that their theory as well as their practice differs\nwidely from ours; but it would be false and unjust to deny that they\nhave a theory and that on the whole their practice squares with it.\nSimilar testimony is borne to other savage races by men who have lived\nlong among them and observed them closely;[435] and on the strength of\nsuch testimony I think we may lay it down as a well-established truth\nthat savages in general, so far as they are known to us, have certain\nmore or less definite theories, whether we call them religious or\nphilosophical, by which they regulate their conduct, and judged by which\ntheir acts, however absurd they may seem to the civilised man, are\nreally both rational and intelligible. Hence it is, in my opinion, a\nprofound mistake hastily to conclude that because the behaviour of the\nsavage does not agree with our notions of what is reasonable, natural,\nand proper, it must therefore necessarily be illogical, the result of\nblind impulse rather than of deliberate thought and calculation. No\ndoubt the savage like the civilised man does often act purely on\nimpulse; his passions overmaster his reason, and sweep it away before\nthem. He is probably indeed much more impulsive, much more liable to be\nwhirled about by gusts of emotion than we are; yet it would be unfair to\njudge his life as a whole by these occasional outbursts rather than by\nits general tenour, which to those who know him from long observation\nreveals a groundwork of logic and reason resembling our own in its\noperations, though differing from ours in the premises from which it\nsets out. I think it desirable to emphasise the rational basis of savage\nlife because it has been the fashion of late years with some writers to\nquestion or rather deny it. According to them, if I understand them\naright, the savage acts first and invents his reasons, generally very\nabsurd reasons, for so doing afterwards. Significantly enough, the\nwriters who argue in favour of the essential irrationality of savage\nconduct have none of them, I believe, any personal acquaintance with\nsavages. Their conclusions are based not on observation but on purely\ntheoretical deductions, a most precarious foundation on which to erect a\nscience of man or indeed of anything. As such, they cannot be weighed in\nthe balance against the positive testimony of many witnesses who have\nlived for years with the savage and affirm emphatically the logical\nbasis which underlies and explains his seeming vagaries. At all events I\nfor one have no hesitation in accepting the evidence of such men to\nmatters of fact with which they are acquainted, and I unhesitatingly\nreject all theories which directly contradict that evidence. If there\never has been any race of men who invariably acted first and thought\nafterwards, I can only say that in the course of my reading and\nobservation I have never met with any trace of them, and I am apt to\nsuppose that, if they ever existed anywhere but in the imagination of\nbookish dreamers, their career must have been an exceedingly short one,\nsince in the struggle for existence they would surely succumb to\nadversaries who tempered and directed the blind fury of combat with at\nleast a modicum of reason and sense. The myth of the illogical or\nprelogical savage may safely be relegated to that museum of learned\nabsurdities and abortions which speculative anthropology is constantly\nenriching with fresh specimens of misapplied ingenuity and wasted\nindustry. But enough of these fantasies. Let us return to facts.\n\n[Sidenote: The Kai theory of the soul.]\n\nThe life of the Kai people, according to Mr. Keysser, is dominated by\ntheir conception of the soul. That conception differs greatly from and\nis very much more extensive than ours. The Kai regards his reflection\nand his shadow as his soul or parts of it; hence you should not tread on\na man's shadow for fear of injuring his soul. The soul likewise dwells\nin his heart, for he feels it beating. Hence if you give a native a\nfriendly poke in the ribs, he protests, saying, \"Don't poke me so; you\nmight drive my soul out of my body, and then I should die.\" The soul\nmoreover resides in the eye, where you may see it twinkling; when it\ndeparts, the eye grows dim and vacant. Moreover, the soul is in the foot\nas much as in the head; it lurks even in the spittle and the other\nbodily excretions. The soul in fact pervades the body just as warmth\ndoes; everything that a man touches he infects, so to say, with his\nsoul; that mysterious entity exists in the very sound of his voice. The\nsorcerer catches a man's soul by his magic, shuts it up tight, and\ndestroys it. Then the man dies. He dies because the sorcerer has killed\nhis soul. Yet the Kai believes, whether consistently or not, that the\nsoul of the dead man continues to live. He talks to it, he makes\nofferings to it, he seeks to win its favour in order that he may have\nluck in the chase; he fears its ill-will and anger; he gives it food to\neat, liquor to drink, tobacco to smoke, and betel to chew. What could a\nreasonable ghost ask for more?[436]\n\n[Sidenote: Two kinds of human souls.]\n\nThus, according to Mr. Keysser, whose exposition I am simply\nreproducing, the Kai believes not in one nor yet in many souls belonging\nto each individual; he implicitly assumes that there are two different\nkinds of souls. One of these is the soul which survives the body at\ndeath; in all respects it resembles the man himself as he lived on\nearth, except that it has no body. It is not indeed absolutely\nincorporeal, but it is greatly shrunken and attenuated by death. That is\nwhy the souls of the dead are so angry with the living; they repine at\ntheir own degraded condition; they envy the full-blooded life which the\nliving enjoy and which the dead have lost. The second kind of soul is\ndistinguished by Mr. Keysser from the former as a spiritual essence or\nsoul-stuff, which pervades the body as sap pervades the tree, and which\ndiffuses itself like corporeal warmth over everything with which the\nbody is brought into contact.[437] In these lectures we are concerned\nchiefly with the former kind of soul, which is believed to survive the\ndeath of the body, and which answers much more nearly than the second to\nthe popular European conception of the soul. Accordingly in what follows\nwe shall confine our attention mainly to it.\n\n[Sidenote: Death thought by the Kai to be commonly caused by sorcery.]\n\nLike many other savages, the Kai do not believe in the possibility of a\nnatural death; they think that everybody dies through the maleficent\narts of sorcerers or ghosts. Even in the case of old people, we are\ntold, they assume the cause of death to be sorcery, and to sorcery all\nmisfortunes are ascribed. If a man falls on the path and wounds himself\nto death, as often happens, on the jagged stump of a bamboo, the natives\nconclude that he was bewitched. The way in which the sorcerer brought\nabout the catastrophe was this. He obtained some object which was\ninfected with the soul-stuff or spiritual essence of his victim; he\nstuck a pile in the ground, he spread the soul-stuff on the pile; then\nhe pretended to wound himself on the pile and to groan with pain.\nAnybody can see for himself that by a natural and necessary\nconcatenation of causes this compelled the poor fellow to stumble over\nthat jagged bamboo stump and to perish miserably. Again, take the case\nof a hunter in the forest who is charged and ripped up by a wild boar.\nOn a superficial view of the circumstances it might perhaps occur to you\nthat the cause of death was the boar. But you would assuredly be\nmistaken. The real cause of death was again a sorcerer, who pounded up\nthe soul-stuff of his victim with a boar's tooth. Again, suppose that a\nman is bitten by a serpent and dies. A shallow rationalist might say\nthat the man died of the bite; but the Kai knows better. He is aware\nthat what really killed him was the sorcerer who took a pinch of his\nvictim's soul and bunged it up tight in a tube along with the sting of a\nsnake. Similarly, if a woman dies in childbed, or if a man hangs\nhimself, the cause of death is still a sorcerer operating with the\nappropriate means and gestures. Thus to make a man hang himself all that\nthe sorcerer has to do is to get a scrap of his victim's soul--and the\nsmallest scrap is quite enough for his purpose, it may be a mere shred\nor speck of soul adhering to a hair of the man's head, to a drop of his\nsweat, or to a crumb of his food,--I say that the sorcerer need only\nobtain a tiny little bit of his victim's soul, clap it in a tube, set\nthe tube dangling at the end of a string, and go through a pantomime of\ngurgling, goggling and so forth, like a man in the last stage of\nstrangulation, and his victim is thereby physically compelled to put his\nneck in the noose and hang himself in good earnest.[438]\n\n[Sidenote: Danger incurred by the sorcerer.]\n\nWhere these views of sorcery prevail, it is no wonder that the sorcerer\nis an unpopular character. He naturally therefore shrinks from publicity\nand hides his somewhat lurid light under a bushel. Not to put too fine a\npoint on it, he carries his life in his hand and may be knocked on the\nhead at any moment without the tedious formality of a trial. Once his\nprofessional reputation is established, all the deaths in the\nneighbourhood may be set down at his door. If he gets wind of a plot to\nassassinate him, he may stave off his doom for a while by soothing the\nangry passions of his enemies with presents, but sooner or later his\nfate is sealed.[439]\n\n[Sidenote: Many hurts and maladies attributed by the Kai to the action\nof ghosts. In other cases the sickness is traced to witchcraft.\nCapturing a lost soul.]\n\nHowever, the Kai savage is far from attributing all deaths without\ndistinction to sorcerers.[440] In many hurts and maladies he detects the\ncold clammy hand of a ghost. If a man, for example, wounds himself in\nthe forest, perhaps in the pursuit of a wild beast, he may imagine that\nhe has been speared or clubbed by a malignant ghost. And when a person\nfalls ill, the first thing to do is naturally to ascertain the cause of\nthe illness in order that it may be treated properly. In all such\nenquiries, Mr. Keysser tells us, suspicion first falls on the ghosts;\nthey are looked upon as even worse than the sorcerers.[441] So when a\ndoctor is called in to see a patient, the only question with him is\nwhether the sickness is caused by a sorcerer or a ghost. To decide this\nnice point he takes a boiled taro over which he has pronounced a charm.\nThis he bites, and if he finds a small stone in the fruit, he decides\nthat ghosts are the cause of the malady; but if on the other hand he\ndetects a minute roll of leaves, he knows that the sufferer is\nbewitched. In the latter case the obvious remedy is to discover the\nsorcerer and to induce him, for an adequate consideration, to give up\nthe magic tube in which he has bottled up a portion of the sick man's\nsoul. If, however, the magician turns a deaf ear alike to the voice of\npity and the allurement of gain, the resources of the physician are not\nyet exhausted. He now produces his whip or scourge for souls. This\nvaluable instrument consists, like a common whip, of a handle with a\nlash attached to it, but what gives it the peculiar qualities which\ndistinguish it from all other whips is a small packet tied to the end of\nthe lash. The packet contains a certain herb, and the sick man and his\nfriends must all touch it in order to impregnate it with the volatile\nessence of their souls. Armed with this potent implement the doctor goes\nby night into the depth of the forest; for the darkness of night and the\nsolitude of the woods are necessary for the success of the delicate\noperation which this good physician of souls has now to perform. Finding\nhimself alone he whistles for the lost soul of the sufferer, and if only\nthe sorcerer by his infernal craft has not yet brought it to death's\ndoor, the soul appears at the sound of the whistle; for it is strongly\nattracted by the soul-stuff of its friends in the packet. But the doctor\nhas still to catch it, a feat which is not so easily accomplished as\nmight be supposed. It is now that the whip of souls comes into play.\nSuddenly the doctor heaves up his arm and lashes out at the truant soul\nwith all his might. If only he hits it, the business is done, the soul\nis captured, the doctor carries it back to the house in triumph, and\nrestores it to the body of the poor sick man, who necessarily\nrecovers.[442]\n\n[Sidenote: Extracting ghosts from a sick man.]\n\nBut suppose that the result of the diagnosis is different, and that on\nmature consideration the doctor should decide that a ghost and not a\nsorcerer is at the bottom of the mischief. The question then naturally\narises whether the sick man has not of late been straying on haunted\nground and infected himself with the very dangerous soul-stuff or\nspiritual essence of the dead. If he remembers to have done so, some\nleaves are fetched from the place in the forest where the mishap\noccurred, and with them the whole body of the sufferer or the wound, as\nthe case may be, is stroked or brushed down. The healing virtue of this\nprocedure is obvious. The ghosts who are vexing the patient are\nattracted by the familiar smell of the leaves which come from their old\nhome; and yielding in a moment of weakness to the soft emotions excited\nby the perfume they creep out of the body of the sick man and into the\nleaves. Quick as thought the doctor now whisks the leaves away with the\nghosts in them; he belabours them with a cudgel, he hangs them up in the\nsmoke, or he throws them into the fire. Such powerful disinfectants have\ntheir natural results; if the ghosts are not absolutely destroyed they\nare at least disarmed, and the sick is made whole.\n\n[Sidenote: Scraping ghosts from the patient's body.]\n\nAnother equally effective cure for sickness caused by ghosts is this.\nYou take a stout stick, cleave it down the middle so that the two ends\nremain entire, and give it to two men to hold. Then the sick man pokes\nhis head through the cleft; after that you rub him with the stick from\nthe crown of his head to the soles of his feet. In this way you\nobviously scrape off the bloodsucking ghosts who are clinging like flies\nor mosquitoes to his person, and having thus transferred them to the\ncleft stick you throw it away or otherwise destroy it. The cure is now\ncomplete, and if the patient does not recover, he cannot reasonably\nblame the doctor, who has done all that humanly speaking could be done\nto bring back the bloom of health to the poor sick man.[443]\n\n[Sidenote: Extravagant demonstrations of grief at the death of a sick\nman.]\n\nIf, however, the sick man obstinately persists in dying, there is a\ngreat uproar in the village. For the fear of his ghost has now fallen\nlike a thunderclap on all the people. His disembodied spirit is believed\nto be hovering in the air, seeing everything that is done, hearing every\nword that is spoken, and woe to the unlucky wight who does not display a\nproper degree of sorrow for the irreparable loss that has just befallen\nthe community. Accordingly shrieks of despair begin to resound, and\ncrocodile tears to flow in cataracts. The whole population assemble and\ngive themselves up to the most frantic demonstrations of grief. Cries\nare raised on all sides, \"Why must he die?\" \"Wherefore did they bewitch\nhim?\" \"Those wicked, wicked men!\" \"I'll do for them!\" \"I'll hew them in\npieces!\" \"I'll destroy their crops!\" \"I'll fell all their palm-trees!\"\n\"I'll stick all their pigs!\" \"O brother, why did you leave me?\" \"O\nfriend, how can I live without you?\" To make good these threats one man\nwill be seen prancing wildly about and stabbing with a spear at the\ninvisible sorcerers; another catches up a cudgel and at one blow shivers\na water-pot of the deceased into atoms, or rushes out like one demented\nand lays a palm-tree level with the ground. Some fling themselves\nprostrate beside the corpse and sob as if their very hearts would break.\nThey take the dead man by the hand, they stroke him, they straighten out\nthe poor feet which are already growing cold. They coo to him softly,\nthey lift up the languid head, and then lay it gently down. Then in a\nfrenzy of grief one of them will leap to his feet, shriek, bellow, stamp\non the floor, grapple with the roof beams, shake the walls, as if he\nwould pull the house down, and finally hurl himself on the ground and\nroll over and over howling as if his distress was more than he could\nendure. Another looks wildly about him. He sees a knife. He grasps it.\nHis teeth are set, his mind is made up. \"Why need he die?\" he cries,\n\"he, my friend, with whom I had all things in common, with whom I ate\nout of the same dish?\" Then there is a quick movement of the knife, and\ndown he falls. But he is not dead. He has only slit the flap of one of\nhis ears, and the trickling blood bedabbles his body. Meantime with the\nhoarse cries of the men are mingled the weeping and wailing, the shrill\nscreams and lamentations of the women; while above all the din and\nuproar rises the booming sound of the shell trumpets blown to carry the\ntidings of death to all the villages in the neighbourhood. But gradually\nthe wild tumult dies away into silence. Grief or the simulation of it\nhas exhausted itself: the people grow calm; they sit down, they smoke or\nchew betel, while some engage in the last offices of attention to the\ndead.[444]\n\n[Sidenote: Hypocritical character of these demonstrations, which are\nintended to deceive the ghost.]\n\nA civilised observer who witnessed such a scene of boisterous\nlamentation, but did not know the natives well, might naturally set down\nall these frantic outbursts to genuine sorrow, and might enlarge\naccordingly on the affectionate nature of savages, who are thus cut to\nthe heart by the death of any one of their acquaintance. But the\nmissionary who knows them better assures us that most of these\nexpressions of mourning and despair are a mere blind to deceive and\nsoothe the dreaded ghost of the deceased into a comfortable persuasion\nthat he is fondly loved and sadly missed by his surviving relatives and\nfriends. This view of the essential hypocrisy of the lamentations is\nstrongly confirmed by the threats which sick people will sometimes utter\nto their attendants. \"If you don't take better care of me,\" a man will\nsometimes say, \"and if you don't do everything you possibly can to\npreserve my valuable life, my ghost will serve you out.\" That is why\nfriends and relations are so punctilious in paying visits of respect and\ncondolence to the sick. Sometimes the last request which a dying man\naddresses to his kinsfolk is that they will kill this or that sorcerer\nwho has killed him; and he enforces the injunction by threats of the\nterrible things he will do to them in his disembodied state if they fail\nto avenge his death on his imaginary murderer. As all the relatives of a\ndead man stand in fear of his ghost, the body may not be buried until\nall of them have had an opportunity of paying their respects to it. If,\nas sometimes happens, a corpse is interred before a relative can arrive\nfrom a distance, he will on arrival break out into reproaches and\nupbraidings against the grave-diggers for exposing him to the wrath of\nthe departed spirit.[445]\n\n[Sidenote: Burial and mourning customs of the Kai. Preservation of the\nlower jawbone.]\n\nWhen all the relations and friends have assembled and testified their\nsorrow, the body is buried on the second or third day after death. The\ngrave is usually dug under the house and is so shallow that even when it\nhas been closed the stench is often very perceptible. The ornaments\nwhich were placed on the body when it was laid out are removed before it\nis lowered into the grave, and the dead takes his last rest wrapt in a\nsimple leaf-mat. Often a dying man expresses a wish not to be buried. In\nthat case his corpse, tightly bandaged, is deposited in a corner of the\nhouse, and the products of decomposition are allowed to drain through a\ntube into the ground. When they have ceased to run, the bundle is opened\nand the bones taken out and buried, except the lower jawbone, which is\npreserved, sometimes along with one of the lower arm bones. The lower\njawbone reminds the possessor of the duty of blood revenge which he owes\nto the deceased, and which the dying man may have inculcated on him with\nhis last breath. The lower arm bone brings luck in the chase, especially\nif the departed relative was a mighty hunter. However, if the hunters\nhave a long run of bad luck, they conclude that the ghost has departed\nto the under world and accordingly bury the lower arm bone and the lower\njawbone with the rest of the skeleton. The length of the period of\nmourning is similarly determined by the good or bad fortune of the\nhuntsmen. If the ghost provides them with game in abundance for a long\ntime after his death, the days of mourning are proportionately extended;\nbut when the game grows scarce or fails altogether, the mourning comes\nto an end and the memory of the deceased soon fades away.[446] The\nsavage is a thoroughly practical man and is not such a fool as to waste\nhis sorrow over a ghost who gives him nothing in return. Nothing for\nnothing is his principle. His relations to the dead stand on a strictly\ncommercial basis.\n\n[Sidenote: Mourning costume. Widows strangled to accompany their dead\nhusbands.]\n\nThe mourning costume consists of strings round the neck, bracelets of\nreed on the arms, and a cylindrical hat of bark on the head. A widow is\nswathed in nets. The intention of the costume is to signify to the ghost\nthe sympathy which the mourner feels for him in his disembodied state.\nIf the man in his lifetime was wont to crouch shivering over the fire, a\nlittle fire will be kept up for a time at the foot of the grave in order\nto warm his homeless spirit.[447] The widow or widower has to discharge\nthe disagreeable duty of living day and night for several weeks in a\nhovel built directly over the grave. Not unfrequently the lot of a widow\nis much harder. At her own request she is sometimes strangled and buried\nwith her husband in the grave, in order that her soul may accompany his\non the journey to the other world. The other relations have no interest\nin encouraging the woman to sacrifice herself, rather the contrary; but\nif she insists they fear to balk her, lest they should offend the ghost\nof her husband, who would punish them in many ways for keeping his wife\nfrom him. But even such voluntary sacrifices, if we may believe Mr. Ch.\nKeysser, are dictated rather by a selfish calculation than by an impulse\nof disinterested affection. He mentions the case of a man named Jabu,\nboth of whose wives chose thus to attend their husband in death. The\ndeceased was an industrious man, a skilful hunter and farmer, who\nprovided his wives with abundance of food. As such men are believed to\nwork hard also in the other world, tilling fields and killing game just\nas here, the widows thought they could not do better than follow him as\nfast as possible to the spirit land, since they had no prospect of\ngetting such another husband here on earth. \"How firmly convinced,\" adds\nthe missionary admiringly, \"must these people be of the reality of\nanother world when they sacrifice their earthly existence, not for the\nsake of a better life hereafter, but merely in order to be no worse off\nthere than they have been on earth.\" And he adds that this consideration\nexplains why no man ever chooses to be strangled at the death of his\nwife. The labour market in the better land is apparently not recruited\nfrom the ranks of women.[448]\n\n[Sidenote: House or village deserted after a death.]\n\nThe house in which anybody has died is deserted, because the ghost of\nthe dead is believed to haunt it and make it unsafe at night. If the\ndeceased was a chief or a man of importance, the whole village is\nabandoned and a new one built on another site.[449]\n\n[Footnote 415: Stefan Lehner, \"Bukaua,\" in R. Neuhauss's _Deutsch\nNeu-Guinea_, iii. (Berlin, 1911) pp. 395-485.]\n\n[Footnote 416: S. Lehner, _op. cit._ pp. 399, 433 _sq._, 437 _sqq._]\n\n[Footnote 417: S. Lehner, _op. cit._ p. 399.]\n\n[Footnote 418: S. Lehner, _op. cit._ p. 414.]\n\n[Footnote 419: S. Lehner, _op. cit._ p. 466, 468.]\n\n[Footnote 420: S. Lehner, _op. cit._ p. 469.]\n\n[Footnote 421: S. Lehner, _op. cit._ pp. 462 _sqq._, 466, 467, 471\n_sqq._]\n\n[Footnote 422: S. Lehner, _op. cit._ p. 462.]\n\n[Footnote 423: S. Lehner, _op. cit._ pp. 444 _sq._]\n\n[Footnote 424: S. Lehner, _op. cit._ pp. 434 _sqq._; compare _id._, pp.\n478 _sq._]\n\n[Footnote 425: S. Lehner, _op. cit._ p. 462.]\n\n[Footnote 426: S. Lehner, _op. cit._ pp. 430, 470, 472 _sq._, 474 _sq._]\n\n[Footnote 427: S. Lehner, _op. cit._ p. 403.]\n\n[Footnote 428: S. Lehner, _op. cit._ pp. 402-410.]\n\n[Footnote 429: S. Lehner, _op. cit._ pp. 410-414.]\n\n[Footnote 430: Ch. Keysser, \"Aus dem Leben der Kaileute,\" in R.\nNeuhauss's _Deutsch Neu-Guinea_, iii. 3-6.]\n\n[Footnote 431: Ch. Keysser, _op. cit._ pp. 12 _sq._, 17-20.]\n\n[Footnote 432: Ch. Keysser, _op. cit._ pp. 9-12.]\n\n[Footnote 433: Ch. Keysser, _op. cit._ p. 111.]\n\n[Footnote 434: Ch. Keysser, _op. cit._ p. 113.]\n\n[Footnote 435: Compare Ch. Hose and W. McDougall, _The Pagan Tribes of\nBorneo_ (London, 1912), ii. 221 _sq._: \"It has often been attempted to\nexhibit the mental life of savage peoples as profoundly different from\nour own; to assert that they act from motives, and reach conclusions by\nmeans of mental processes, so utterly different from our own motives and\nprocesses that we cannot hope to interpret or understand their behaviour\nunless we can first, by some impossible or at least by some hitherto\nundiscovered method, learn the nature of these mysterious motives and\nprocesses. These attempts have recently been renewed in influential\nquarters. If these views were applied to the savage peoples of the\ninterior of Borneo, we should characterise them as fanciful delusions\nnatural to the anthropologist who has spent all the days of his life in\na stiff collar and a black coat upon the well-paved ways of civilised\nsociety. We have no hesitation in saying that, the more intimately one\nbecomes acquainted with these pagan tribes, the more fully one realises\nthe close similarity of their mental processes to one's own. Their\nprimary impulses and emotions seem to be in all respects like our own.\nIt is true that they are very unlike the typical civilised man of some\nof the older philosophers, whose every action proceeded from a nice and\nlogical calculation of the algebraic sum of pleasures and pains to be\nderived from alternative lines of conduct; but we ourselves are equally\nunlike that purely mythical personage. The Kayan or the Iban often acts\nimpulsively in ways which by no means conduce to further his best\ninterests or deeper purposes; but so do we also. He often reaches\nconclusions by processes that cannot be logically justified; but so do\nwe also. He often holds, and upon successive occasions acts upon,\nbeliefs that are logically inconsistent with one another; but so do we\nalso.\" For further testimonies to the reasoning powers of savages, which\nit would be superfluous to affirm if it were not at present a fashion\nwith some theorists to deny, see _Taboo and the Perils of the Soul_, pp.\n420 _sqq._ And on the tendency of the human mind in general, not of the\nsavage mind in particular, calmly to acquiesce in inconsistent and even\ncontradictory conclusions, I may refer to a note in _Adonis, Attis,\nOsiris_, Second Edition, p. 4. But indeed to observe such contradictions\nin practice the philosopher need not quit his own study.]\n\n[Footnote 436: Ch. Keysser, _op. cit._ pp. 111 _sq._]\n\n[Footnote 437: Ch. Keysser, _op. cit._ p. 112.]\n\n[Footnote 438: Ch. Keysser, _op. cit._ p. 140. As to the magical tubes\nin which the sorcerer seals up some part of his victim's soul, see\n_id._, p. 135.]\n\n[Footnote 439: Ch. Keysser, _op. cit._ pp. 140 _sq._]\n\n[Footnote 440: Mr. Keysser indeed affirms that in the mind of the Kai\nsorcery \"is regarded as the cause of all deaths\" (_op. cit._ p. 102),\nand again that \"all men without exception die in consequence of the\nbaneful acts of these sorcerers and their accomplices\" (p. 134); and\nagain that \"even in the case of old people they assume sorcery to be the\ncause of death; to sorcery, too, all misfortunes whatever are ascribed\"\n(p. 140). But that these statements are exaggerations seems to follow\nfrom Mr. Keysser's own account of the wounds, sicknesses, and deaths\nwhich these savages attribute to ghosts and not to sorcerers.]\n\n[Footnote 441: Ch. Keysser, _op. cit._ p. 141.]\n\n[Footnote 442: Ch. Keysser, _op. cit._ pp. 133 _sq._]\n\n[Footnote 443: Ch. Keysser, _op. cit._ pp. 141 _sq._]\n\n[Footnote 444: Ch. Keysser, _op. cit._ pp. 80 _sq._, 142.]\n\n[Footnote 445: Ch. Keysser, _op. cit._ p. 142.]\n\n[Footnote 446: Ch. Keysser, _op. cit._ pp. 82, 83.]\n\n[Footnote 447: Ch. Keysser, _op. cit._ pp. 82, 142 _sq._]\n\n[Footnote 448: Ch. Keysser, _op. cit._ pp. 83 _sq._, 143.]\n\n[Footnote 449: Ch. Keysser, _op. cit._ p. 83.]\n\n\n\n\nLECTURE XIII\n\nTHE BELIEF IN IMMORTALITY AMONG THE NATIVES OF GERMAN NEW GUINEA\n(_continued_)\n\n\n[Sidenote: Offerings to appease ghosts.]\n\nIn the last lecture I gave you some account of the fear and awe which\nthe Kai of German New Guinea entertain for the spirits of the dead.\nBelieving that the ghost is endowed with all the qualities and faculties\nwhich distinguished the man in his lifetime, they naturally dread most\nthe ghosts of warlike, cruel, violent, and passionate men, and take the\ngreatest pains to soothe their anger and win their favour. For that\npurpose they give the departed spirit all sorts of things to take with\nhim to the far country. And in order that he may have the use of them it\nis necessary to smash or otherwise spoil them. Thus the spear that is\ngiven him must be broken, the pot must be shivered, the bag must be\ntorn, the palm-tree must be cut down. Fruits are offered to the ghost by\ndashing them in pieces or hanging a bunch of them over the grave.\nObjects of value, such as boars' tusks or dogs' teeth, are made over to\nhim by being laid on the corpse; but the economical savage removes these\nprecious things from the body at burial. All such offerings and\nsacrifices, we are told, are made simply out of fear of the ghost. It is\nno pleasure to a man to cut down a valuable palm-tree, which might have\nhelped to nourish himself and his family for years; he does it only lest\na worse thing should befall him at the hands of the departed\nspirit.[450]\n\n[Sidenote: Mode of discovering the sorcerer who caused a death.]\n\nBut the greatest service that the Kai can render to a dead man is to\ntake vengeance on the sorcerer who caused his death by witchcraft. The\nfirst thing is to discover the villain, and in the search for him the\nghost obligingly assists his surviving kinsfolk. Sometimes, however, it\nis necessary to resort to a stratagem in order to secure his help. Thus,\nfor example, one day while the ghost, blinded by the strong sunlight, is\ncowering in a dark corner or reposing at full length in the grave, his\nrelatives will set up a low scaffold in a field, cover it with leaves,\nand pile up over it a mass of the field fruits which belonged to the\ndead man, so that the whole erection may appear to the eye of the\nunsuspecting ghost a heap of taro, yams, and so forth, and nothing more.\nBut before the sun goes down, two or three men steal out from the house,\nand ensconce themselves under the scaffold, where they are completely\nconcealed by the piled-up fruits. When darkness has fallen, out comes\nthe ghost and prowling about espies the heap of yams and taro. At sight\nof the devastation wrought in his field he flies into a passion, and\ncurses and swears in the feeble wheezy whisper in which ghosts always\nspeak. In the course of his fluent imprecations he expresses a wish that\nthe miscreants who have wasted his substance may suffer so and so at the\nhands of the sorcerer. That is just what the men in hiding have been\nwaiting for. No sooner do they hear the name of the sorcerer than they\njump up with a great shout; the startled ghost takes to his heels; and\nall the people in the village come pouring out of the houses. Very glad\nthey are to know that the murderer has been found out, and sooner or\nlater they will have his blood.[451]\n\n[Sidenote: Another way of detecting the sorcerer.]\n\nAnother mode of eliciting the requisite information from the ghost is\nthis. In order to allow him to communicate freely with his mouldering\nbody, his relations insert a tube through the earth of the grave down to\nthe corpse; then they sprinkle powdered lime on the grave. At night the\nghost comes along, picks up the powdered lime, and makes off in a bee\nline for the village where the sorcerer who bewitched him resides. On\nthe way he drops some of the powder here and there, so that next\nmorning, on the principle of the paper-chase, his relatives can trace\nhis footsteps to the very door of his murderer. In many districts the\npeople tie a packet of lime to the knee of a corpse so that his ghost\nmay have it to hand when he wants it.[452]\n\n[Sidenote: Cross-questioning the ghost by means of fire.]\n\nBut the favourite way of cross-questioning the ghost on subject of his\ndecease is by means of fire. A few men go out before nightfall from the\nvillage and sit down in a row, one behind the other, on the path. The\nman in front has a leaf-mat drawn like a hood over his head and back in\norder that the ghost may not touch him from behind unawares. In his hand\nhe holds a glowing coal and some tinder, and as he puts the one to the\nother he calls to the ghost, \"Come, take, take, take; come, take, take,\ntake,\" and so on. Meantime his mates behind him are reckoning up the\nnames of all the men near and far who are suspected of sorcery, and a\nportion of the village youth have clambered up trees and are on the\nlook-out for the ghost. If they do not see his body they certainly see\nhis eye twinkling in the gloom, though the uninstructed European might\neasily mistake it for a glow-worm. No sooner do they catch sight of it\nthan they bawl out, \"Come hither, fetch the fire, and burn him who burnt\nthee.\" If the tinder blazes up at the name of a sorcerer, it is flung\ntowards the village where the man in question dwells. And if at the same\ntime a glow-worm is seen to move in the same direction, the people\nentertain no doubt that the ghost has appeared and fetched the soul of\nthe fire.[453]\n\n[Sidenote: Necessity of destroying the sorcerer who caused a death.]\n\nIn whichever way the author of the death may be detected, the avengers\nof blood set out for the village of the miscreant and seek to take his\nlife. Almost all the wars between villages or tribes spring from such\nexpeditions. The sorcerer or sorcerers must be extirpated, nay all their\nkith and kin must be destroyed root and branch, if the people are to\nlive in peace and quiet. The ghost of the dead calls, nay clamours for\nvengeance, and if he does not get it, he will wreak his spite on his\nnegligent relations. Not only will he give them no luck in the chase,\nbut he will drive the wild swine into the fields to trample down and\nroot up the crops, and he will do them every mischief in his power. If\nrain does not fall, so that the freshly planted root crops wither; or if\nsickness is rife, the people recognise in the calamity the wrath of the\nghost, who can only be appeased by the slaughter of the wicked magician\nor of somebody else. Hence the avengers of blood often do not set out\nuntil a fresh death, an outbreak of sickness, failure in the chase, or\nsome other misfortune reminds the living of the duty they owe to the\ndead. The Kai is not by nature warlike, and he might never go to war if\nit were not that he dreads the vengeance of ghosts more than the wrath\nof men.[454]\n\n[Sidenote: Slayers dread the ghosts of the slain.]\n\nIf the expedition has been successful, if the enemy's village has been\nsurprised and stormed, the men and old women butchered, and the young\nwomen taken prisoners, the warriors beat a hasty retreat with their\nbooty in order to be safe at home, or at least in the shelter of a\nfriendly village, before nightfall. Their reason for haste is the fear\nof being overtaken in the darkness by the ghosts of their slaughtered\nfoes, who, powerless by day, are very dangerous and terrible by night.\nRestlessly through the hours of darkness these unquiet spirits follow\nlike sleuth-hounds in the tracks of their retreating enemies, eager to\ncome up with them and by contact with the bloodstained weapons of their\nslayers to recover the spiritual substance which they have lost. Not\ntill they have done so can they find rest and peace. That is why the\nvictors are careful not at first to bring back their weapons into the\nvillage but to hide them somewhere in the bushes at a safe distance.\nThere they leave them for some days until the baffled ghosts may be\nsupposed to have given up the chase and returned, sad and angry, to\ntheir mangled bodies in the charred ruins of their old home. The first\nnight after the return of the warriors is always the most anxious time;\nall the villagers are then on the alert for fear of the ghosts; but if\nthe night passes quietly, their terror gradually subsides and gives\nplace to the dread of their surviving enemies.[455]\n\n[Sidenote: Seclusion of man-slayers from fear of their victims' ghosts.]\n\nAs the victors in a raid are supposed to have more or less of the\nsoul-stuff or spiritual essence of their slain foes adhering to their\npersons, none of their friends will venture to touch them for some time\nafter their return to the village. Everybody avoids them and goes\ncarefully out of their way. If during this time any of the villagers\nsuffers from a pain in his stomach, he thinks that he must have\ninadvertently sat down where one of the warriors had sat before him. If\nsomebody endures the pangs of toothache, he makes sure that he must have\neaten a fruit which had been touched by one of the slayers. All the\nrefuse of the meals of these gallant men must be most carefully put away\nlest a pig should devour it; for if it did do so, the animal would\ncertainly die, which would be a serious loss to the owner. Hence when\nthe warriors have satisfied their hunger, any food that remains over is\nburnt or buried. The fighting men themselves are not very seriously\nincommoded, or at all events endangered, by the ghosts of their victims;\nfor they have taken the precaution to disinfect themselves by the sap of\na certain creeper, which, if it does not render them absolutely immune\nto ghostly influence, at least fortifies their constitution to a very\nconsiderable extent.[456]\n\n[Sidenote: Feigned indignation of a man who has connived at the murder\nof a relative.]\n\nSometimes, instead of sending forth a band of warriors to ravage, burn,\nand slaughter the whole male population of the village in which the\nwicked sorcerer resides, the people of one village will come to a secret\nunderstanding with the people of the sorcerer's village to have the\nmiscreant quietly put out of the way. A hint is given to the scoundrel's\nnext of kin, it may be his brother, son, or nephew, that if he will only\nwink at the slaughter of his obnoxious relative, he will receive a\nhandsome compensation from the slayers. Should he privately accept the\noffer, he is most careful to conceal his connivance at the deed of\nblood, lest he should draw down on his head the wrath of his murdered\nkinsman's ghost. So, when the deed is done and the murder is out, he\nworks himself up into a state of virtuous sorrow and indignation, covers\nhis head with the leaves of a certain plant, and chanting a dirge in\ntones of heart-rending grief, marches straight to the village of the\nmurderers. There, on the public square, surrounded by an attentive\naudience, he opens the floodgates of his eloquence and pours forth the\ntorrent of an aching heart. \"You have slain my kinsman,\" says he, \"you\nare wicked men! How could you kill so good a man, who conferred so many\nbenefits on me in his lifetime? I knew nothing of the plot. Had I had an\ninkling of it, I would have foiled it. How can I now avenge his death? I\nhave no property with which to hire men of war to go and punish his\nmurderers. Yet in spite of everything my murdered kinsman will not\nbelieve in my innocence! He will be angry with me, he will pay me out,\nhe will do me all the harm he can. Therefore do you declare openly\nwhether I had any share whatever in his death, and come and strew lime\non my head in order that he may convince himself of my innocence.\" This\nappeal of injured innocence meets with a ready response. The people dust\nthe leaves on his head with powdered lime; and so, decorated with the\nwhite badge of spotless virtue, and enriched with a boar's tusk or other\nvaluable object as the price of his compliance, he returns to his\nvillage with a conscience at peace with all the world, reflecting with\nsatisfaction on the profitable transaction he has just concluded, and\nlaughing in his sleeve at the poor deluded ghost of his murdered\nrelative.[457]\n\n[Sidenote: Comedy acted to deceive the ghost of a murdered kinsman.]\n\nSometimes the worthy soul who thus for a valuable consideration consents\nto waive all his personal feelings, will even carry his self-abnegation\nso far as to be present and look on at the murder of his kinsman. But\ntrue to his principles he will see to it that the thing is done decently\nand humanely. When the struggle is nearly over and the man is down,\nwrithing on the ground with the murderers busy about him, his loving\nkinsman will not suffer them to take an unfair advantage of their\nsuperior numbers to cut him up alive with their knives, to chop him with\ntheir axes, or to smash him with their clubs. He will only allow them to\nstab him with their spears, repeating of course the stabs again and\nagain till the victim ceases to writhe and quiver, and lies there dead\nas a stone. Then begins the real time of peril for the virtuous kinsman\nwho has been a spectator and director of the scene; for the ghost of the\nmurdered man has now deserted its mangled body, and, still blinded with\nblood and smarting with pain, might easily and even excusably\nmisunderstand the situation. It is essential, therefore, in order to\nprevent a painful misapprehension, that the kinsman should at once and\nemphatically disclaim any part or parcel in the murder. This he\naccordingly does in language which leaves no room for doubt or\nambiguity. He falls into a passion: he rails at the murderers: he\nproclaims his horror at their deed. All the way home he refuses to be\ncomforted. He upbraids the assassins, he utters the most frightful\nthreats against them; he rushes at them to snatch their weapons from\nthem and dash them in pieces. But they easily wrench the weapons from\nhis unresisting hands. For the whole thing is only a piece of acting.\nHis sole intention is that the ghost may see and hear it all, and being\nconvinced of the innocence of his dear kinsman may not punish him with\nbad crops, wounds, sickness, and other misfortunes. Even when he has\nreached the village, he keeps up the comedy for a time, raging, fretting\nand fuming at the irreparable loss he has sustained by the death of his\nlamented relative.[458]\n\n[Sidenote: Pretence of avenging the ghost of a murdered sorcerer.]\n\nSimilarly when a chief has among his subjects a particular sorcerer whom\nhe fears but with whom he is professedly on terms of friendship, he will\nsometimes engage a man to murder him. No sooner, however, is the murder\nperpetrated than the chief who bespoke it hastens in seeming indignation\nwith a band of followers to the murderer's village. The assassin, of\ncourse, has got a hint of what is coming, and he and his friends take\ncare not to be at home when the chief arrives on his mission of\nvengeance. Balked by the absence of their victim the avengers of blood\nbreathe out fire and slaughter, but content themselves in fact with\nsmashing an old pot or two, knocking down a deserted hut, and perhaps\nfelling a banana-tree or a betel-palm. Having thus given the ghost of\nthe murdered man an unequivocal proof of the sincerity of their\nfriendship, they return quietly home.[459]\n\n[Sidenote: The Kai afraid of ghosts.]\n\nThe habits of Kai ghosts are to some extent just the contrary of those\nof living men. They sleep by day and go about their business by night,\nwhen they frighten people and play them all kinds of tricks. Usually\nthey appear in the form of animals. As light has the effect of blinding\nor at least dazzling them, they avoid everything bright, and hence it is\neasy to scare them away by means of fire. That is why no native will go\neven a short way in the dark without a bamboo torch. If it is absolutely\nnecessary to go out by night, which he is very loth to do, he will hum\nand haw loudly before quitting the house so as to give notice to any\nlurking ghost that he is coming with a light, which allows the ghost to\nscuttle out of his way in good time. The people of a village live in\nterror above all so long as a corpse remains unburied in it; after\nnightfall nobody would then venture out of sight of the houses. When a\ntroop of people go by night to a neighbouring village with flaring\ntorches in their hands, nobody is willing to walk last on the path; they\nall huddle together for safety in the middle, till one man braver than\nthe rest consents to act as rearguard. The rustling of a bush in the\nevening twilight startles them with the dread of some ghastly\napparition; the sight of a pig in the gloaming is converted by their\nfears into the vision of a horrible spectre. If a man stumbles, it is\nbecause a ghost has pushed him, and he fancies he perceives the\nfrightful thing in a tree-stump or any chance object. No wonder a Kai\nman fears ghosts, since he believes that the mere touch of one of them\nmay be fatal. People who fall down in fits or in faints are supposed to\nhave been touched by ghosts; and on coming to themselves they will tell\ntheir friends with the most solemn assurance how they felt the\ndeath-cold hand of the ghost on their body, and how a shudder ran\nthrough their whole frame at contact with the uncanny being.[460]\n\n[Sidenote: Services rendered to the living by ghosts of the dead.]\n\nBut it would be a mistake to imagine that the ghosts of the dead are a\nsource of danger, annoyance, and discomfort, and nothing more. That is\nnot so. They may and do render the Kai the most material services in\neveryday life, particularly by promoting the supply of food both\nvegetable and animal. I have said that these practical savages stand\ntowards their departed kinsfolk on a strictly commercial footing; and I\nwill now illustrate the benefits which the Kai hope to receive from the\nghosts in return for all the respect and attention lavished on them. In\nthe first place, then, so long as a ghost remains in the neighbourhood\nof the village, it is expected of him that he shall make the crops\nthrive and neither tread them down himself nor allow wild pigs to do so.\nThe expectation is reasonable, yet the conduct of the ghost does not\nalways answer to it. Occasionally, whether out of sheer perverseness or\nsimple absence of mind, he will sit down in a field; and wherever he\ndoes so, he makes a hollow where the fruits will not grow. Indeed any\nfruit that he even touches with his foot in passing, shrivels up. Where\nthese things have happened, the people offer boiled taro and a few crabs\nto the ghosts to induce them to keep clear of the crops and to repose\ntheir weary limbs elsewhere than in the tilled fields.[461]\n\n[Sidenote: Ghosts help Kai hunters to kill game.]\n\nBut the most important service which the dead render to the living is\nthe good luck which they vouchsafe to hunters. Hence in order to assure\nhimself of the favour of the dead the hunter hangs his nets on a grave\nbefore he uses them. If a man was a good and successful hunter in his\nlifetime, his ghost will naturally be more than usually able to assist\nhis brethren in the craft after his death. For that reason when such a\nman has just died, the people, to adopt a familiar proverb, hasten to\nmake hay while the sun shines by hunting very frequently, in the\nconfident expectation of receiving ghostly help from the deceased\nhunter. In the evening, when they return from the chase, they lay a\nsmall portion of their bag near his grave, scatter a powder which\npossesses the special virtue of attracting ghosts, and call out,\n\"So-and-so, come and eat; here I set down food for you, it is a part of\nall we have.\" If after such an offering and invocation the night wind\nrustles the tops of the trees or shakes the thatch of leaves on the\nroofs, they know that the ghost is in the village. The twinkle of a\nglow-worm near his grave is the glitter of his eye. In the morning, too,\nbefore they sally forth to the woods, one of the next of kin to the dead\nhuntsman will go betimes to his grave, stamp on it to waken the sleeper\nbelow, and call out, \"So-and-so, come! we are now about to go out\nhunting. Help us to a good bag!\" If they have luck, they praise the\ndeceased as a good spirit and in the evening supply his wants again with\nfood, tobacco, and betel. The sacrifice, as usually happens in such\ncases, does not call for any great exercise of self-denial; since the\nspirit consumes only the spiritual essence of the good things, while he\nleaves their material substance to be enjoyed by the living.[462]\n\n[Sidenote: Ill-treatment of a ghost who fails to help hunters.]\n\nHowever, it sometimes happens that the ghost disappoints them, and that\nthe hunters return in the evening hungry and empty-handed. This may even\nbe repeated day after day, and still the people will not lose hope. They\nthink that the ghost is perhaps busy working in his field, or that he\nhas gone on a visit and will soon come home. To give him time to do his\nbusiness or see his friends at leisure, they will remain in the village\nfor several days. Then, when they imagine that he must surely have\nreturned, they go out into the woods and try their luck again. But\nshould there still be no ghost and no game, they begin to be seriously\nalarmed. They think that some evil must have befallen him. But if time\ngoes on and still he gives no sign and the game continues scarce and\nshy, their feelings towards the ghost undergo a radical alteration.\nPassion getting the better of prudence, they will even reproach him with\ningratitude, taunt him with his uselessness, and leave him to starve.\nShould he after that still remain deaf to their railing and regardless\nof the short commons to which they have reduced him, they will discharge\na volley of abuse at his grave and trouble themselves about him no more.\nHowever, if, not content with refusing his valuable assistance in the\nchase, the ghost should actually blight the crops or send wild boars\ninto the fields to trample them down, the patience of the long-suffering\npeople is quite exhausted: the vials of their wrath overflow; and\nsnatching up their cudgels in a fury they belabour his grave till his\nbones ache, or even drive him with blows and curses altogether from the\nvillage.[463]\n\n[Sidenote: The journey of ghosts to the spirit land.]\n\nSuch an outcast ghost, if he does not seek his revenge by prowling in\nthe neighbourhood and preying on society at large, will naturally\nbethink himself of repairing to his long home in the under world. For\nsooner or later the spirits of the dead congregate there. It is\nespecially when the flesh has quite mouldered away from his bones that\nthe ghost packs up his little traps and sets out for the better land.\nThe entrance to the abode of bliss is a cave to the west of Saddle\nMountain. Here in the gully there is a projecting tree-stump on which\nthe ghosts perch waiting for a favourable moment to jump into the mouth\nof the cavern. When a slight earthquake is felt, a Kai man will often\nsay, \"A ghost has just leaped from the tree into the cave; that is why\nthe earth is shaking.\" Down below the ghosts are received by Tulmeng,\nlord of the nether world. Often he appears in a canoe to ferry them over\nto the further shore. \"Blood or wax?\" is the laconic question which he\nputs to the ghost on the bank. He means to say, \"Were you killed or were\nyou done to death by magic?\" For it is with wax that the sorcerer stops\nup the fatal little tubes in which he encloses the souls of his enemies.\nAnd the reason why the lord of the dead puts the question to the\nnewcomer is that the ghosts of the slain and the ghosts of the bewitched\ndwell in separate places. Right in front of the land of souls rises a\nhigh steep wall, which cannot be climbed even by ghosts. The spirits\nhave accordingly to make their way through it and thereupon find\nthemselves in their new abode. According to some Kai, before the ghosts\nare admitted to ghost land they must swing to and fro on a rope and then\ndrop into water, where they are washed clean of bloodstains and all\nimpurity; after which they ascend, spick and span, the last slope to the\nvillage of ghosts.\n\n[Sidenote: Life of ghosts in the other world.]\n\nTulmeng has the reputation of being a very stern ruler in his weird\nrealm, but the Kai really know very little about him. He beats\nrefractory souls, and it is essential that every ghost should have his\nears and nose bored. The operation is very painful, and to escape it\nmost people take the precaution of having their ears and noses bored in\ntheir lifetime. Life in the other world goes on just like life in this\none. Houses are built exactly like houses on earth, and there as here\npigs swarm in the streets. Fields are tilled and crops are got in;\nghostly men marry ghostly women, who give birth to ghostly children. The\nsame old round of love and hate, of quarrelling and fighting, of battle,\nmurder and sudden death goes on in the shadowy realm below ground just\nas in the more solid world above ground. Sorcerers are there also, and\nthey breed just as bad blood among the dead as among the living. All\nthings indeed are the same except for their shadowy unsubstantial\ntexture.[464]\n\n[Sidenote: Ghosts die and turn into animals.]\n\nBut the ghosts do not live for ever in the nether world. They die the\nsecond death and turn into animals, generally into cuscuses. In the\nshape of animals they haunt the wildest, deepest, darkest glens of the\nrugged mountains. No one but the owner has the right to set foot on such\nhaunted ground. He may even kill the ghostly animals. Any one else who\ndared to disturb them in their haunts would do so at the peril of his\nlife. But even the owner of the land who has killed one of the ghostly\ncreatures is bound to appease the spirit of the dead beast. He may not\ncut up the carcase at once, but must leave it for a time, perhaps for a\nwhole night, after laying on it presents which are intended to mollify\nand soothe the injured spirit. In placing the gifts on the body he says,\n\"Take the gifts and leave us that which was a game animal, that we may\neat it.\" When the animal's ghost has appropriated the spiritual essence\nof the offerings, the hunter and his family may eat the carcase. Should\none of these ghostly creatures die or be killed, its spirit turns either\ninto an insect or into an ant-hill. Children who would destroy such an\nant-hill or throw little darts at it, are warned by their elders not to\nindulge in such sacrilegious sport. When the insect also dies, the\nseries of spiritual transformations is at an end.[465]\n\n[Sidenote: Ghosts of persons eminent for good or evil in their lives are\nremembered and appealed to for help long after their deaths. Prayers to\nghosts for rain, a good crop of yams, and so forth.]\n\nThe ghosts whose help is invoked by hunters and farmers are commonly the\nspirits of persons who have lately died, since such spirits linger for a\ntime in the neighbourhood, or rather in the memory of the people. But\nbesides these spirits of the recent dead there are certain older ghosts\nwho may be regarded as permanent patrons of hunting and other\ndepartments of life and nature, because their fame has survived long\nafter the men or women themselves were gathered to their fathers. For\nexample, men who were bold and resolute in battle during their life will\nbe invoked long after their death, whenever a stout heart is needed for\nsome feat of daring. And men who were notorious thieves and villains in\nthe flesh will be invited, long after their bodies have mouldered in the\ngrave, to lend their help when a deed of villainy is to be done. The\nnames of men or women who were eminent for good or evil in their lives\nsurvive indefinitely in the memory of the tribe. Thus before a battle\nmany a Kai warrior will throw something over the enemy's village and as\nhe does so he will softly call on two ghosts, \"We and Gunang, ye two\nheroes, come and guard me and keep the foes from me, that they may not\nbe able to hurt me! But stand by me that I may be able to riddle them\nwith spears!\" Again, when a magician wishes to cause an earthquake, he\nwill take a handful of ashes, wrap them in certain leaves, and pronounce\nthe following spell over the packet: \"Thou man Saiong, throw about\neverything that exists; houses, villages, paths, fields, bushes and tall\nforest trees, yams, and taro, throw them all hither and thither; break\nand smash everything, but leave me in peace!\" While he utters this\nincantation or prayer, the sorcerer's body itself twitches and quivers\nmore and more violently, till the hut creaks and cracks and his strength\nis exhausted. Then he throws the packet of ashes out of the hut, and\nafter that the earthquake is sure to follow sooner or later. So when\nthey want rain, the Kai call upon two ghostly men named Balong and Batu,\nor Dinding and Bojang, to drive away a certain woman named Yondimi, so\nthat the rain which she is holding up may fall upon the earth. The\nprayer for rain addressed to the ghosts is combined with a magical spell\npronounced over a stone. And when rain has fallen in abundance and the\nKai wish to make it cease, they strew hot ashes on the stone or lay it\nin a wood fire. On the principle of homoeopathic magic the heat of the\nashes or of the fire is supposed to dry up the rain. Thus in these\nceremonies for the production or cessation of rain we see that religion,\nrepresented by the invocation of the ghosts, goes hand in hand with\nmagic, represented by the hocus-pocus with the stone. Again, certain\ncelebrated ghosts are invoked to promote the growth of taro and yams.\nThus to ensure a good crop of taro, the suppliant will hold a bud of\ntaro in his hand and pray, \"O Mrs. Zewanong, may my taro leaves unfold\ntill they are as broad as the petticoat which covers thy loins!\" When\nthey are planting yams, they pray to two women named Tendung and Molewa\nthat they would cause the yams to put forth as long suckers as the\nstrings which the women twist to make into carrying-nets. Before they\ndig up the yams, they take a branch and drive with it the evil spirits\nor ghosts from the house in which the yams are to be stored. Having\neffected this clearance they stick the branch in the roof of the house\nand appoint a certain ghostly man named Ehang to act as warden. Again,\nfowlers invoke a married pair of ghosts called Manze and Tamingoka to\nfrighten the birds from the trees and drive them on the limed twigs. Or\nthey pray to a ghostly woman named Lane, saying, \"In all places of the\nneighbourhood shake the betel-nuts from the palms, that they may fall\ndown to me on this fruit-tree and knock the berries from the boughs!\"\nBut by the betel-nuts the fowler in veiled language means the birds,\nwhich are to come in flocks to the fruit-tree and be caught fast by the\nlime on the branches. Again, when a fisherman wishes to catch eels, he\nprays to two ghosts called Yambi and Ngigwali, saying: \"Come, ye two\nmen, and go down into the holes of the pool; smite the eels in them, and\ndraw them out on the bank, that I may kill them!\" Once more, when a\nchild suffers from enlarged spleen, which shews as a swelling on its\nbody, the parent will pray to a ghost named Aidolo for help in these\nwords: \"Come and help this child! It is big with a ball of sickness. Cut\nit up and squeeze and squash it, that the blood and pus may drain away\nand my child may be made whole!\" To give point to the prayer the\npetitioner simultaneously pretends to cut a cross on the swelling with a\nknife.[466]\n\n[Sidenote: Possible development of departmental gods out of ghosts.]\n\nFrom this it appears that men and women who impressed their\ncontemporaries by their talents, their virtues, or their vices in their\nlifetime, are sometimes remembered long after their death and continue\nto be invoked by their descendants for help in the particular department\nin which they had formerly rendered themselves eminent either for good\nor for evil. Such powerful and admired or dreaded ghosts might easily\ngrow in time into gods and goddesses, who are worshipped as presiding\nover the various departments of nature and of human life. There is good\nreason to think that among many tribes and nations of the world the\nhistory of a god, if it could be recovered, would be found to be the\nhistory of a spirit who served his apprenticeship as a ghost before he\nwas promoted to the rank of deity.\n\n[Sidenote: Kai lads at circumcision supposed to be swallowed by a\nmonster. Bull-roarers.]\n\nBefore quitting the Kai tribe I will mention that they, like the other\ntribes on this coast, practise circumcision and appear to associate the\ncustom more or less vaguely with the spirits of the dead. Like their\nneighbours, they impress women with the belief that at circumcision the\nlads are swallowed by a monster, who can only be induced to disgorge\nthem by the bribe of much food and especially of pigs, which are\naccordingly bred and kept nominally for this purpose, but really to\nfurnish a banquet for the men alone. The ceremony is performed at\nirregular intervals of several years. A long hut, entered through a high\ndoor at one end and tapering away at the other, is built in a lonely\npart of the forest. It represents the monster which is to swallow the\nnovices in its capacious jaws. The process of deglutition is represented\nas follows. In front of the entrance to the hut a scaffold is erected\nand a man mounts it. The novices are then led up one by one and passed\nunder the scaffold. As each comes up, the man overhead makes a gesture\nof swallowing, while at the same time he takes a great gulp of water\nfrom a coco-nut flask. The trembling novice is now supposed to be in the\nmaw of the monster; but a pig is offered for his redemption, the man on\nthe scaffold, as representative of the beast, accepts the offering, a\ngurgling sound is heard, and the water which he had just gulped descends\nin a jet on the novice, who now goes free. The actual circumcision\nfollows immediately on this impressive pantomime. The monster who\nswallows the lads is named Ngosa, which means \"Grandfather\"; and the\nsame name is given to the bull-roarers which are swung at the festival.\nThe Kai bull-roarer is a lance-shaped piece of palm-wood, more or less\nelaborately carved, which being swung at the end of a string emits the\nusual droning, booming sound. When they are not in use, the instruments\nare kept, carefully wrapt up, in the men's house, which no woman may\nenter. Only the old men have the right to undo these precious bundles\nand take out the sacred bull-roarers. Women, too, are strictly excluded\nfrom the neighbourhood of the circumcision ground; any who intrude on it\nare put to death. The mythical monster who is supposed to haunt the\nground is said to be very dangerous to the female sex. When the novices\ngo forth to be swallowed by him in the forest, the women who remain in\nthe village weep and wail; and they rejoice greatly when the lads come\nback safe and sound.[467]\n\n[Sidenote: The Tami Islanders of Huon Gulf.]\n\nThe last tribe of German New Guinea to which I shall invite your\nattention are the Tami. Most of them live not on the mainland but in a\ngroup of islands in Huon Gulf, to the south-east of Yabim. They are of a\npurer Melanesian stock than most of the tribes on the neighbouring coast\nof New Guinea. The German missionary Mr. G. Bamler, who lived amongst\nthem for ten years and knows the people and their language intimately,\nthinks that they may even contain a strong infusion of Polynesian\nblood.[468] They are a seafaring folk, who extend their voyages all\nalong the coast for the purpose of trade, bartering mats, pearls, fish,\ncoco-nuts, and other tree-fruits which grow on their islands for taro,\nbananas, sugar-cane, and sago, which grow on the mainland.[469]\n\n[Sidenote: The long soul and the short soul.]\n\nIn the opinion of these people every man has two souls, a long one and a\nshort one. The long soul is identified with the shadow. It is only\nloosely attached to its owner, wandering away from his body in sleep and\nreturning to it when he wakes with a start. The seat of the long soul is\nin the stomach. When the man dies, the long soul quits his body and\nappears to his relations at a distance, who thus obtain the first\nintimation of his decease. Having conveyed the sad intelligence to them,\nthe long soul departs by way of Maligep, on the west coast of New\nBritain, to a village on the north coast, the inhabitants of which\nrecognise the Tami ghosts as they flit past.[470]\n\n[Sidenote: Departure of the short soul to Lamboam, the nether world.]\n\nThe short soul, on the other hand, never leaves the body in life but\nonly after death. Even then it tarries for a time in the neighbourhood\nof the body before it takes its departure for Lamboam, which is the\nabode of the dead in the nether world. The Tami bury their dead in\nshallow graves under or near the houses. They collect in a coco-nut\nshell the maggots which swarm from the decaying corpse; and when the\ninsects cease to swarm, they know that the short soul has gone away to\nits long home. It is the short soul which receives and carries away with\nit the offerings that are made to the deceased. These offerings serve a\ndouble purpose; they form the nucleus of the dead man's property in the\nfar country, and they ensure him a friendly reception on his arrival.\nFor example, the soul shivers with cold, when it first reaches the\nsubterranean realm, and the other ghosts, the old stagers, obligingly\nheat stones to warm it up.[471]\n\n[Sidenote: Dilemma of the Tami.]\n\nHowever, the restless spirit returns from time to time to haunt and\nterrify the sorcerer, who was the cause of its death. But its threats\nare idle; it can really do him very little harm. Yet it keeps its\nghostly eye on its surviving relatives to see that they do not stand on\na friendly footing with the wicked sorcerer. Strictly speaking the Tami\nought to avenge his death, but as a matter of fact they do not. The\ntruth of it is that the Tami do a very good business with the people on\nthe mainland, among whom the sorcerer is usually to be found; and the\namicable relations which are essential to the maintenance of commerce\nwould unquestionably suffer if a merchant were to indulge his resentment\nso far as to take his customer's head instead of his sago and bananas.\nThese considerations reduce the Tami to a painful dilemma. If they\ngratify the ghost they lose a customer; if they keep the customer they\nmust bitterly offend the ghost, who will punish them for their\ndisrespect to his memory. In this delicate position the Tami endeavour\nto make the best of both worlds. On the one hand, by loudly professing\ntheir wrath and indignation against the guilty sorcerer they endeavour\nto appease the ghost; and on the other hand, by leaving the villain\nunmolested they do nothing to alienate their customers.[472]\n\n[Sidenote: Funeral and mourning customs of the Tami.]\n\nBut if they do not gratify the desire for vengeance of the blood-thirsty\nghost, they are at great pains to testify their respect for him in all\nother ways. The whole village takes part in the mourning and lamentation\nfor a death. The women dance death dances, the men lend a hand in the\npreparations for the burial. All festivities are stopped: the drums are\nsilent. As the people believe that when anybody has died, the ghosts of\nhis dead kinsfolk gather in the village and are joined by other ghosts,\nthey are careful not to leave the mourners alone, exposed to the too\npressing attentions of the spectral visitors; they keep the bereaved\nfamily company, especially at night; indeed, if the weather be fine, the\nwhole population of the village will encamp round the temporary hut\nwhich is built on the grave. This watch at the grave lasts about eight\ndays. The watchers are supported and comforted in the discharge of their\npious duty by a liberal allowance of food and drink. Nor are the wants\nof the ghost himself forgotten. Many families offer him taro broth at\nthis time. The period of mourning lasts two or three years. During the\nfirst year the observances prescribed by custom are strictly followed,\nand the nearest relations must avoid publicity. After a year they are\nallowed more freedom; for example, the widow may lay aside the heavy\nnet, which is her costume in full mourning, and may replace it by a\nlighter one; moreover, she may quit the house. At the end of the long\nperiod of mourning, dances are danced in honour of the deceased. They\nbegin in the evening and last all night till daybreak. The mourners on\nthese occasions smear their heads, necks, and breasts with black earth.\nA great quantity of food, particularly of pigs and taro broth, has been\nmade ready; for the whole village, and perhaps a neighbouring village\nalso, has been invited to share in the festivity, which may last eight\nor ten days, if the provisions suffice. The dances begin with a gravity\nand solemnity appropriate to a memorial of the dead; but towards the\nclose the performers indulge in a lighter vein and act comic pieces,\nwhich so tickle the fancy of the spectators, that many of them roll on\nthe ground with laughter. Finally, the temporary hut erected on the\ngrave is taken down and the materials burned. As the other ghosts of the\nvillage are believed to be present in attendance on the one who is the\nguest of honour, all the villagers bring offerings and throw them into\nthe fire. However, persons who are not related to the ghosts may snatch\nthe offerings from the flames and convert them to their own use.\nPrecious objects, such as boars' tusks and dogs' teeth, are not\ncommitted to the fire but merely swung over it in a bag, while the name\nof the person who offers the valuables in this economical fashion is\nproclaimed aloud for the satisfaction of the ghost. With these dances,\npantomimes, and offerings the living have discharged the last duties of\nrespect and affection to the dead. Yet for a while his ghost is thought\nto linger as a domestic or household spirit; but the time comes when he\nis wholly forgotten.[473]\n\n[Sidenote: Bones of the dead dug up and kept in the house for a time.]\n\nMany families, however, not content with the observance of these\nordinary ceremonies, dig up the bodies of their dead when the flesh has\nmouldered away, redden the bones with ochre, and keep them bundled up in\nthe house for two or three years, when these relics of mortality are\nfinally committed to the earth. The intention of thus preserving the\nbones for years in the house is not mentioned, but no doubt it is to\nmaintain a closer intimacy with the departed spirit than seems possible\nif his skeleton is left to rot in the grave. When he is at last laid in\nthe ground, the tomb is enclosed by a strong wooden fence and planted\nwith ornamental shrubs. Yet in the course of years, as the memory of the\ndeceased fades away, his grave is neglected, the fence decays, the\nshrubs run wild; another generation, which knew him not, will build a\nhouse on the spot, and if in digging the foundations they turn up his\nbleached and mouldering bones, it is nothing to them: why should they\ntrouble themselves about the spirit of a man or woman whose very name is\nforgotten?[474]\n\n[Footnote 450: Ch. Keysser, _op. cit._ pp. 142 _sq._]\n\n[Footnote 451: Ch. Keysser, _op. cit._ p. 143.]\n\n[Footnote 452: Ch. Keysser, _l.c._]\n\n[Footnote 453: Ch. Keysser, _op. cit._ pp. 143 _sq._]\n\n[Footnote 454: Ch. Keysser, _op. cit._ pp. 62 _sq._]\n\n[Footnote 455: Ch. Keysser, pp. 64 _sqq._, 147 _sq._]\n\n[Footnote 456: Ch. Keysser, _op. cit._ p. 132.]\n\n[Footnote 457: Ch. Keysser, _op. cit._ p. 148.]\n\n[Footnote 458: Ch. Keysser, _op. cit._ pp. 148 _sq._]\n\n[Footnote 459: Ch. Keysser, _op. cit._ p. 149.]\n\n[Footnote 460: Ch. Keysser, _op. cit._ p. 147.]\n\n[Footnote 461: Ch. Keysser, _op. cit._ p. 145.]\n\n[Footnote 462: Ch. Keysser, _op. cit._ p. 145.]\n\n[Footnote 463: Ch. Keysser, _op. cit._ pp. 145 _sq._]\n\n[Footnote 464: Ch. Keysser, _op. cit._ pp. 149 _sq._]\n\n[Footnote 465: Ch. Keysser, _op. cit._ pp. 112, 150 _sq._]\n\n[Footnote 466: Ch. Keysser, _op. cit._ pp. 151-154. In this passage the\nghosts are spoken of simply as spirits (_Geister_); but the context\nproves that the spirits in question are those of the dead.]\n\n[Footnote 467: Ch. Keysser, _op. cit._ pp. 34-40.]\n\n[Footnote 468: G. Bamler, \"Tami,\" in R. Neuhauss's _Deutsch Neu-Guinea_,\niii. (Berlin, 1911) p. 489; compare _ib._ p. vii.]\n\n[Footnote 469: H. Zahn, \"Die Jabim,\" in R. Neuhauss's _Deutsch\nNeu-Guinea_, iii. 315 _sq._]\n\n[Footnote 470: G. Bamler, _op. cit._ p. 518.]\n\n[Footnote 471: G. Bamler, _l.c._]\n\n[Footnote 472: G. Bamler, _op. cit._ pp. 518 _sq._]\n\n[Footnote 473: G. Bamler, _op. cit._ pp. 519-522.]\n\n[Footnote 474: G. Bamler, _op. cit._ p. 518.]\n\n\n\n\nLECTURE XIV\n\nTHE BELIEF IN IMMORTALITY AMONG THE NATIVES OF GERMAN AND DUTCH NEW\nGUINEA\n\n\n[Sidenote: The Tami doctrine of souls and gods. The Tago spirits,\nrepresented by masked men.]\n\nAt the close of the last lecture I dealt with the Tami, a people of\nMelanesian stock who inhabit a group of islands off the mainland of New\nGuinea. I explained their theory of the human soul. According to them,\nevery man has two distinct souls, a long one and a short one, both of\nwhich survive his death, but depart in different directions, one of them\nrepairing to the lower world, and the other being last sighted off the\ncoast of New Britain. But the knowledge which these savages possess of\nthe spiritual world is not limited to the souls of men; they are\nacquainted with several deities (_buwun_), who live in the otherwise\nuninhabited island of Djan. They are beings of an amorous disposition,\nand though their real shape is that of a fish's body with a human head,\nthey can take on the form of men in order to seduce women. They also\ncause epidemics and earthquakes; yet the people shew them no respect,\nfor they believe them to be dull-witted as well as lecherous. At most,\nif a fearful epidemic is raging, they will offer the gods a lean little\npig or a mangy cur; and should an earthquake last longer than usual they\nwill rap on the ground, saying, \"Hullo, you down there! easy a little!\nWe men are still here.\" They also profess acquaintance with a god named\nAnuto, who created the heaven and the earth together with the first man\nand woman. He is a good being; nobody need be afraid of him. At\nfestivals and meat markets the Tami offer him the first portion in a\nlittle basket, which a lad carries away into the wood and leaves there.\nAs usual, the deity consumes only the soul of the offering; the bearer\neats the material substance.[475] The Tami further believe in certain\nspirits called Tago which are very old, having been created at the same\ntime as the village. Every family or clan possesses its own familiar\nspirits of this class. They are represented by men who disguise their\nbodies in dense masses of sago leaves and their faces in grotesque masks\nwith long hooked noses. In this costume the maskers jig it as well as\nthe heavy unwieldy disguise allows them to do. But the dance consists in\nlittle more than running round and round in a circle, with an occasional\nhop; the orchestra stands in the middle, singing and thumping drums.\nSometimes two or three of the masked men will make a round of the\nvillage, pelting the men with pebbles or hard fruits, while the women\nand children scurry out of their way. When they are not in use the masks\nare hidden away in a hut in the forest, which women and children may not\napproach. Their secret is sternly kept: any betrayal of it is punished\nwith death. The season for the exhibition of these masked dances recurs\nonly once in ten or twelve years, but it extends over a year or\nthereabout. During the whole of the dancing-season, curiously enough,\ncoco-nuts are strictly tabooed; no person may eat them, so that the\nunused nuts accumulate in thousands. As coco-nuts ordinarily form a\ndaily article of diet with the Tami, their prohibition for a year is\nfelt by the people as a privation. The meaning of the prohibition and\nalso of the masquerades remains obscure.[476]\n\n[Sidenote: The superhuman beings with whom the Tami are chiefly\nconcerned are the souls of the dead. Offerings to the dead.]\n\nBut while the Tami believe in gods and spirits of various sorts, the\nsuperhuman beings with whom they chiefly concern themselves are the\nsouls of the dead. On this subject Mr. Bamler writes: \"All the spirits\nwhom we have thus far described are of little importance in the life and\nthought of the Tami; they are remembered only on special occasions. The\nspirits who fill the thoughts and attract the attention of the Tami are\nthe _kani_, that is, the souls of the departed. The Tami therefore\npractise the worship of ancestors. Yet the memory of ancestors does not\nreach far back; people occupy themselves only with the souls of those\nrelatives whom they have personally known. Hence the worship seldom\nextends beyond the grandfather, even when a knowledge of more remote\nprogenitors survives. An offering to the ancestors takes the form of a\nlittle dish of boiled taro, a cigar, betel-nuts, and the like; but the\nspirits partake only of the image or soul of the things offered, while\nthe material substance falls to the share of mankind. There is no fixed\nrule as to the manner or time of the offering. It is left to the caprice\nor childlike affection of the individual to decide how he will make it.\nWith most natives it is a simple matter of business, the throwing of a\nsprat to catch a salmon; the man brings his offering only when he needs\nthe help of the spirits. There is very little ceremony about it. The\nofferer will say, for example, 'There, I lay a cigar for you; smoke it\nand hereafter drive fish towards me'; or, 'Accompany me on the journey,\nand see to it that I do good business.' The place where the food is\npresented is the shelf for pots and dishes under the roof. Thus they\nimagine that the spirits exert a tolerably far-reaching influence over\nall created things, and it is their notion that the spirits take\npossession of the objects. In like manner the spirits can injure a man\nby thwarting his plans, for example, by frightening away the fish,\nblighting the fruits of the fields, and so forth. If the native is\nforced to conclude that the spirits are against him, he has no\nhesitation about deceiving them in the grossest manner. Should the\nrequisite sacrifices be inconvenient to him, he flatly refuses them, or\ngives the shabbiest things he can find. In all this the native displays\nthe same craft and cunning which he is apt to practise in his dealings\nwith the whites. He fears the power which the spirit has over him, yet\nhe tries whether he cannot outwit the spirit like an arrant\nblock-head.\"[477]\n\n[Sidenote: Crude motives for sacrifice.]\n\nThis account of the crude but quite intelligible motives which lead\nthese savages to sacrifice to the spirits of their dead may be commended\nto the attention of writers on the history of religion who read into\nprimitive sacrifice certain subtle and complex ideas which it never\nentered into the mind of primitive man to conceive and which, even if\nthey were explained to him, he would in all probability be totally\nunable to understand.\n\n[Sidenote: Lamboam, the land of the dead.]\n\nAccording to the Tami, the souls of the dead live in the nether world.\nThe spirit-land is called Lamboam; the entrance to it is by a cleft in a\nrock. The natives of the mainland also call Hades by the name of\nLamboam; but whereas according to them every village has its own little\nLamboam, the Tami hold that there is only one big Lamboam for everybody,\nthough it is subdivided into many mansions, of which every village has\none to itself. In Lamboam everything is fairer and more perfect than on\nearth. The fruits are so plentiful that the blessed spirits can, if they\nchoose, give themselves up to the delights of idleness; the villages are\nfull of ornamental plants. Yet on the other hand we are informed that\nlife beneath the ground is very like life above it: people work and\nmarry, they squabble and wrangle, they fall sick and even die, just as\npeople do on earth. Souls which die the second death in Lamboam are\nchanged into vermin, such as ants and worms; however, others say that\nthey turn into wood-spirits, who do men a mischief in the fields. It is\nnot so easy as is commonly supposed to effect an entrance into the\nspirit-land. You must pass a river, and even when you have crossed it\nyou will be very likely to suffer from the practical jokes which the\nmerry old ghosts play on a raw newcomer. A very favourite trick of\ntheirs is to send him up a pandanus tree to look for fruit. If he is\nsimple enough to comply, they catch him by the legs as he is swarming up\nthe trunk and drag him down, so that his whole body is fearfully\nscratched, if not quite ripped up, by the rough bark. That is why people\nput valuable things with the dead in the grave, in order that their\nghosts on arrival in Lamboam may have the wherewithal to purchase the\ngood graces of the facetious old stagers.[478]\n\n[Sidenote: Return of the ghosts to earth, sometimes in the form of\nserpents.]\n\nHowever, even when the ghosts have succeeded in effecting a lodgment in\nLamboam, they are not strictly confined to it. They can break bounds at\nany moment and return to the upper air. This they do particularly when\nany of their surviving relations is at the point of death. Ghosts of\ndeceased kinsfolk and of others gather round the parting soul and attend\nit to the far country. Yet sometimes, apparently, the soul sets out\nalone, for the anxious relatives will call out to it, \"Miss not the\nway.\" But ghosts visit their surviving friends at other times than at\nthe moment of death. For example, some families possess the power of\ncalling up spirits in the form of serpents from the vasty deep. The\nspirits whom they evoke are usually those of persons who have died quite\nlately; for such ghosts cannot return to earth except in the guise of\nserpents. In this novel shape they naturally feel shy and hide under a\nmat. They come out only in the dusk of the evening or the darkness of\nnight and sit on the shelf for pots and dishes under the roof. They have\nlost the faculty of speech and can express themselves only in whistles.\nThese whistles the seer, who is generally a woman, understands perfectly\nand interprets to his or her less gifted fellows. In this way a\nconsiderable body of information, more or less accurate in detail, is\ncollected as to life in the other world. More than that, it is even\npossible for men, and especially for women, to go down alive into the\nnether world and prosecute their enquiries at first hand among the\nghosts. Women who possess this remarkable faculty transmit it to their\ndaughters, so that the profession is hereditary. When anybody wishes to\nascertain how it fares with one of his dead kinsfolk in Lamboam, he has\nnothing to do but to engage the services of one of these professional\nmediums, giving her something which belonged to his departed friend. The\nmedium rubs her forehead with ginger, muttering an incantation, lies\ndown on the dead man's property, and falls asleep. Her soul then goes\ndown in a dream to deadland and elicits from the ghosts the required\ninformation, which on waking from sleep she imparts to the anxious\nenquirer.[479]\n\n[Sidenote: Sickness caused by a spirit.]\n\nSickness accompanied by fainting fits is ascribed to the action of a\nspirit, it may be the ghost of a near relation, who has carried off the\n\"long soul\" of the sufferer. The truant soul is recalled by a blast\nblown on a triton-shell, in which some chewed ginger or _massoi_ bark\nhas been inserted. The booming sound attracts the attention of the\nvagrant spirit, while the smell of the bark or of the ginger drives away\nthe ghost.[480]\n\n[Sidenote: Tami lads supposed to be swallowed by a monster at\ncircumcision; the monster and the bull-roarer are both called _kani_.]\n\nThe name which the Tami give to the spirits of the dead is _kani_; but\nlike other tribes in this part of New Guinea they apply the same term to\nthe bull-roarer and also to the mythical monster who is supposed to\nswallow the lads at circumcision. The identity of the name for the three\nthings seems to prove that in the mind of the Tami the initiatory rites,\nof which circumcision is the principal feature, are closely associated\nwith their conception of the state of the human soul after death, though\nwhat the precise nature of the association may be still remains obscure.\nLike their neighbours on the mainland of New Guinea, the Tami give out\nthat the novices at initiation are swallowed by a monster or dragon, who\nonly consents to disgorge his prey in consideration of a tribute of\npigs, the rate of the tribute being one novice one pig. In the act of\ndisgorging the lad the dragon bites him, and the bite is visible to all\nin the cut called circumcision. The voice of the monster is heard in the\nhum of the bull-roarers, which are swung at the ceremony in such numbers\nand with such force that in still weather the booming sound may be heard\nacross the sea for many miles. To impress women and children with an\nidea of the superhuman strength of the dragon deep grooves are cut in\nthe trunks of trees and afterwards exhibited to the uninitiated as the\nmarks made by the monster in tugging at the ropes which bound him to the\ntrees. However, the whole thing is an open secret to the married women,\nthough they keep their knowledge to themselves, fearing to incur the\npenalty of death which is denounced upon all who betray the mystery.\n\n[Sidenote: The rite of circumcision. Seclusion and return of the newly\ncircumcised lads.]\n\nThe initiatory rites are now celebrated only at intervals of many years.\nWhen the time is come for the ceremony, women are banished from the\nvillage and special quarters prepared for them elsewhere; for they are\nstrictly forbidden to set foot in the village while the monster or\nspirit who swallows the lads has his abode in it. A special hut is then\nbuilt for the accommodation of the novices during the many months which\nthey spend in seclusion before and after the operation of circumcision.\nThe hut represents the monster; it consists of a framework of thin poles\ncovered with palm-leaf mats and tapering down at one end. Looked at from\na distance it resembles a whale. The backbone is composed of a betel-nut\npalm, which has been grubbed up with its roots. The root with its fibres\nrepresents the monster's head and hair, and under it are painted a pair\nof eyes and a great mouth in red, white, and black. The passage of the\nnovices into the monster's belly is represented by causing them to\ndefile past a row of men who hold bull-roarers aloft over the heads of\nthe candidates. Before this march past takes place, each of the\ncandidates is struck by the chief with a bull-roarer on his chin and\nbrow. The operation of circumcising the lads is afterwards performed\nbehind a screen set up near the monster-shaped house. It is followed by\na great feast on swine's flesh. After their wounds are healed the\ncircumcised lads have still to remain in seclusion for three or four\nmonths. Finally, they are brought back to the village with great pomp.\nFor this solemn ceremony their faces, necks, and breasts are whitened\nwith a thick layer of chalk, while red stripes, painted round their\nmouths and eyes and prolonged to the ears, add to the grotesqueness of\ntheir appearance. Their eyes are closed with a plaster of chalk, and\nthus curiously arrayed and blindfolded they are led back to the village\nsquare, where leave is formally given them to open their eyes. At the\nentrance to the village they are received by the women, who weep for joy\nand strew boiled field-fruits on the way. Next morning the newly\ninitiated lads wash off the crust of chalk, and have their hair, faces,\nnecks, and breasts painted bright red. This ends their time of\nseclusion, which has lasted five or six months; they now rank as\nfull-grown men.[481]\n\n[Sidenote: Simulation of death and resurrection.]\n\nIn these initiatory rites, as in the similar rites of the neighbouring\ntribes on the mainland of New Guinea, we may perhaps detect a simulation\nof death and of resurrection to a new and higher life. But why\ncircumcision should form the central feature of such a drama is a\nquestion to which as yet no certain or even very probable answer can be\ngiven. The bodily mutilations of various sorts, which in many savage\ntribes mark the transition from boyhood to manhood, remain one of the\nobscurest features in the life of uncultured races. That they are in\nmost cases connected with the great change which takes place in the\nsexes at puberty seems fairly certain; but we are far from understanding\nthe ideas which primitive man has formed on this mysterious subject.\n\n[Sidenote: The natives of Dutch New Guinea.]\n\nThat ends what I have to say as to the notions of death and a life\nhereafter which are entertained by the natives of German New Guinea. We\nnow turn to the natives of Dutch New Guinea, who occupy roughly speaking\nthe western half of the great island. Our information as to their\ncustoms and beliefs on this subject is much scantier, and accordingly my\naccount of them will be much briefer.\n\n[Sidenote: Geelvink Bay and Doreh Bay. The Noofoor or Noomfor people.\nTheir material culture and arts of life.]\n\nTowards the western end of the Dutch possession there is on the northern\ncoast a deep and wide indentation known as Geelvink Bay, which in its\nnorth-west corner includes a very much smaller indentation known as\nDoreh Bay. Scattered about in the waters of the great Geelvink Bay are\nmany islands of various sizes, such as Biak or Wiak, Jappen or Jobi, Run\nor Ron, Noomfor, and many more. It is in regard to the natives who\ninhabit the coasts or islands of Geelvink Bay that our information is\nperhaps least imperfect, and it is accordingly with them that I shall\nbegin. In physical appearance, expression of the face, mode of wearing\nthe hair, and still more in manners and customs these natives of the\ncoast and islands differ from the natives of the mountains in the\ninterior. The name given to them by Dutch and German writers is Noofoor\nor Noomfor. Their original home is believed to be the island of Biak or\nWiak, which lies at the northern entrance of the bay, and from which\nthey are supposed to have spread southwards and south-westwards to the\nother islands and to the mainland of New Guinea.[482] They are a\nhandsomely built race. Their colour is usually dark brown, but in some\nindividuals it shades off to light-brown, while in others it deepens\ninto black-brown. The forehead is high and narrow; the eye is dark brown\nor black with a lively expression; the nose broad and flat, the lips\nthick and projecting. The cheekbones are not very high. The facial angle\nagrees with that of Europeans. The hair is abundant and frizzly. The\npeople live in settled villages and subsist by agriculture, hunting, and\nfishing. Their large communal houses are raised above the ground on\npiles; on the coast they are built over the water. Each house has a long\ngallery, one in front and one behind, and a long passage running down\nthe middle of the dwelling, with the rooms arranged on either side of\nit. Each room has its own fireplace and is occupied by a single family.\nOne such communal house may contain from ten to twenty families with a\nhundred or more men, women, and children, besides dogs, fowls, parrots,\nand other creatures. When the house is built over the water, it is\ncommonly connected with the shore by a bridge; but in some places no\nsuch bridge exists, and at high water the inmates can only communicate\nwith the shore by means of their canoes. The staple food of the people\nis sago, which they extract from the sago-palm; but they also make use\nof bread-fruit, together with millet, rice, and maize, whenever they can\nobtain these cereals. Their flesh diet includes wild pigs, birds, fish,\nand trepang. While some of them subsist mainly by fishing and commerce,\nothers devote themselves almost exclusively to the cultivation of their\ngardens, which they lay out in clearings of the dense tropical forest,\nemploying chiefly axes and chopping-knives as their instruments of\ntillage. Of ploughs they, like most savages, seem to know nothing. The\nrice and other plants which they raise in these gardens are produced by\nthe dry method of cultivation. In hunting birds they employ chiefly bows\nand arrows, but sometimes also snares. The arrows with which they shoot\nthe birds of paradise are blunted so as not to injure the splendid\nplumage of the birds. Turtle-shells, feathers of the birds of paradise,\nand trepang are among the principal articles which they barter with\ntraders for cotton-goods, knives, swords, axes, beads and so forth. They\ndisplay some skill and taste in wood-carving. The art of working in iron\nhas been introduced among them from abroad and is now extensively\npractised by the men. They make large dug-out canoes with outriggers,\nwhich seem to be very seaworthy, for they accomplish long voyages even\nin stormy weather. The making of pottery, basket-work, and weaving,\ntogether with pounding rice and cooking food, are the special business\nof women. The men wear waistbands or loin-cloths made of bark, which is\nbeaten till it becomes as supple as leather. The women wear petticoats\nor strips of blue cotton round their loins, and as ornaments they have\nrings of silver, copper, or shell on their arms and legs.[483] Thus the\npeople have attained to a fair degree of barbaric culture.\n\n[Sidenote: Fear of ghosts. Ideas of the spirit-world.]\n\nNow it is significant that among these comparatively advanced savages\nthe fear of ghosts and the reverence entertained for them have developed\ninto something which might almost be called a systematic worship of the\ndead. As to their fear of ghosts I will quote the evidence of a Dutch\nmissionary, Mr. J. L. van Hasselt, who lived for many years among them\nand is the author of a grammar and dictionary of their language. He\nsays: \"That a great fear of ghosts prevails among the Papuans is\nintelligible. Even by day they are reluctant to pass a grave, but\nnothing would induce them to do so by night. For the dead are then\nroaming about in their search for gambier and tobacco, and they may also\nsail out to sea in a canoe. Some of the departed, above all the\nso-called _Mambrie_ or heroes, inspire them with especial fear. In such\ncases for some days after the burial you may hear about sunset a\nsimultaneous and horrible din in all the houses of all the villages, a\nyelling, screaming, beating and throwing of sticks; happily the uproar\ndoes not last long: its intention is to compel the ghost to take himself\noff: they have given him all that befits him, namely, a grave, a funeral\nbanquet, and funeral ornaments; and now they beseech him not to thrust\nhimself on their observation any more, not to breathe any sickness upon\nthe survivors, and not to kill them or 'fetch' them, as the Papuans put\nit. Their ideas of the spirit-world are very vague. Their usual answer\nto such questions is, 'We know not.' If you press them, they will\ncommonly say that the spirit realm is under the earth or under the\nbottom of the sea. Everything there is as it is in the upper world, only\nthe vegetation down below is more luxuriant, and all plants grow faster.\nTheir fear of death and their helpless wailing over the dead indicate\nthat the misty kingdom of the shades offers but little that is\nconsolatory to the Papuan at his departure from this world.\"[484]\n\n[Sidenote: Fear of ghosts in general and of the ghosts of the slain in\nparticular.]\n\nAgain, speaking of the natives of Doreh, a Dutch official observes that\n\"superstition and magic play a principal part in the life of the Papuan.\nOccasions for such absurdities he discovers at every step. Thus he\ncherishes a great fear of the ghosts of slain persons, for which reason\ntheir bodies remain unburied on the spot where they were murdered. When\na murder has taken place in the village, the inhabitants assemble for\nseveral evenings in succession and raise a fearful outcry in order to\nchase away the soul, in case it should be minded to return to the\nvillage. They set up miniature wooden houses here and there on trees in\nthe forest for the ghosts of persons who die of disease or through\naccidents, believing that the souls take up their abode in them.\"[485]\nThe same writer remarks that these savages have no priests, but that\nthey have magicians (_kokinsor_), who practise exorcisms, work magic,\nand heal the sick, for which they receive a small payment in articles of\nbarter or food.[486] Speaking of the Papuans of Dutch New Guinea in\ngeneral another writer informs us that \"they honour the memory of the\ndead in every way, because they ascribe to the spirits of the departed a\ngreat influence on the life of the survivors.... Whereas in life all\ngood and evil comes from the soul, after death, on the other hand, the\nspirit works for the most part only evil. It loves especially to haunt\nby night the neighbourhood of its old dwelling and the grave; so the\npeople particularly avoid the neighbourhood of graves at night, and when\ndarkness has fallen they will not go out except with a burning brand....\nAccording to the belief of the Papuans the ghosts cause sickness, bad\nharvests, war, and in general every misfortune. From fear of such evils\nand in order to keep them in good humour, the people make provision for\nthe spirits of the departed after death. Also they sacrifice to them\nbefore every important undertaking and never fail to ask their\nadvice.\"[487]\n\n[Sidenote: Papuan ideas as to the state of the dead.]\n\nA Dutch writer, who has given us a comparatively full account of the\nnatives of Geelvink Bay, describes as follows their views in regard to\nthe state of the dead: \"According to the Papuans the soul, which they\nimagine to have its seat in the blood, continues to exist at the bottom\nof the sea, and every one who dies goes thither. They imagine the state\nof things there to be much the same as that in which they lived on\nearth. Hence at his burial the dead man is given an equipment suitable\nto his rank and position in life. He is provided with a bow and arrow,\narmlets and body-ornaments, pots and pans, everything that may stand him\nin good stead in the life hereafter. This provision must not be\nneglected, for it is a prevalent opinion that the dead continue always\nto maintain relations with the world and with the living, that they\npossess superhuman power, exercise great influence over the affairs of\nlife on earth, and are able to protect in danger, to stand by in war, to\nguard against shipwreck at sea, and to grant success in fishing and\nhunting. For such weighty reasons the Papuans do all in their power to\nwin the favour of their dead. On undertaking a journey they are said\nnever to forget to hang amulets about themselves in the belief that\ntheir dead will then surely help them; hence, too, when they are at sea\nin rough weather, they call upon the souls of the departed, asking them\nfor better weather or a favourable breeze, in case the wind happens to\nbe contrary.\"[488]\n\n[Sidenote: Wooden images of the dead (_korwar_).]\n\nIn order to communicate with these powerful spirits and to obtain their\nadvice and help in time of need, the Papuans of Geelvink Bay make wooden\nimages of their dead, which they keep in their houses and consult from\ntime to time. Every family has at least one such ancestral image, which\nforms the medium whereby the soul of the deceased communicates with his\nor her surviving relatives. These images or Penates, as we may call\nthem, are carved of wood, about a foot high, and represent the deceased\nperson in a standing, sitting, or crouching attitude, but commonly with\nthe hands folded in front. The head is disproportionately large, the\nnose long and projecting, the mouth wide and well furnished with teeth;\nthe eyes are formed of large green or blue beads with black dots to\nindicate the pupils. Sometimes the male figures carry a shield in the\nleft hand and brandish a sword in the right; while the female figures\nare represented grasping with both hands a serpent which stands on its\ncoiled tail. Rags of many colours adorn these figures, and the hair of\nthe deceased, whom they represent, is placed between their legs. Such an\nancestral image is called a _korwar_ or _karwar_. The natives identify\nthese effigies with the deceased persons whom they portray, and\naccordingly they will speak of one as their father or mother or other\nrelation. Tobacco and food are offered to the images, and the natives\ngreet them reverentially by bowing to the earth before them with the two\nhands joined and raised to the forehead.\n\n[Sidenote: Such images carried on voyages and consulted as oracles. The\nimages consulted in sickness.]\n\nSuch images are kept in the houses and carried in canoes on voyages, in\norder that they may be at hand to help and advise their kinsfolk and\nworshippers. They are consulted on many occasions, for example, when the\npeople are going on a journey, or about to fish for turtles or trepang,\nor when a member of the family is sick, and his relations wish to know\nwhether he will recover. At these consultations the enquirer may either\ntake the image in his hands or crouch before it on the ground, on which\nhe places his offerings of tobacco, cotton, beads, and so forth. The\nspirit of the dead is thought to be in the image and to pass from it\ninto the enquirer, who thus becomes inspired by the soul of the deceased\nand acquires his superhuman knowledge. As a sign of his inspiration the\nmedium shivers and shakes. According to some accounts, however, this\nshivering and shaking of the medium is an evil omen; whereas if he\nremains tranquil, the omen is good. It is especially in cases of\nsickness that the images are consulted. The mode of consultation has\nbeen described as follows by a Dutch writer: \"When any one is sick and\nwishes to know the means of cure, or when any one desires to avert\nmisfortune or to discover something unknown, then in presence of the\nwhole family one of the members is stupefied by the fumes of incense or\nby other means of producing a state of trance. The image of the deceased\nperson whose advice is sought is then placed on the lap or shoulder of\nthe medium in order to cause the soul to pass out of the image into his\nbody. At the moment when that happens, he begins to shiver; and,\nencouraged by the bystanders, the soul speaks through the mouth of the\nmedium and names the means of cure or of averting the calamity. When he\ncomes to himself, the medium knows nothing of what he has been saying.\nThis they call _kor karwar_, that is, 'invoking the soul;' and they say\n_karwar iwos_, 'the soul speaks.'\" The writer adds: \"It is sometimes\nreported that the souls go to the underworld, but that is not true. The\nPapuans think that after death the soul abides by the corpse and is\nburied with it in the grave; hence before an image is made, if it is\nnecessary to consult the soul, the enquirer must betake himself to the\ngrave in order to do so. But when the image is made, the soul enters\ninto it and is supposed to remain in it so long as satisfactory answers\nare obtained from it in consultation. But should the answers prove\ndisappointing, the people think that the soul has deserted the image, on\nwhich they throw the image away as useless. Where the soul has gone,\nnobody knows, and they do not trouble their heads about it, since it has\nlost its power.\"[489] The person who acts as medium in consulting the\nspirit may be either the house-father himself or a magician\n(_konoor_).[490]\n\n[Sidenote: Example of the consultation of an ancestral image.]\n\nAs an example of these consultations we may take the case of a man who\nwas suffering from a painful sore on his finger and wished to ascertain\nthe cause of the trouble. So he set one of the ancestral images before\nhim and questioned it closely. At first the image made no reply; but at\nlast the man remembered that he had neglected his duty to his dead\nbrother by failing to marry his widow, as, according to native custom,\nhe should have done. Now the natives believe that the dead can punish\nthem for any breach of customary law; so it occurred to our enquirer\nthat the ghost of his dead brother might have afflicted him with the\nsore on his finger for not marrying his widow. Accordingly he put the\nquestion to the image, and in doing so the compunction of a guilty\nconscience caused him to tremble. This trembling he took for an answer\nof the image in the affirmative, wherefore he went off and took the\nwidow to wife and provided for her maintenance.[491]\n\n[Sidenote: Ancestral images consulted as to the cause of death.\nOfferings to the images.]\n\nAgain, the ancestral images are often consulted to ascertain the cause\nof a death; and if the image attributes the death to the evil magic of a\nmember of another tribe, an expedition will be sent to avenge the wrong\nby slaying the supposed culprit. For the souls of the dead take it very\nill and wreak their spite on the survivors, if their death is not\navenged on their enemies. Not uncommonly the consultation of the images\nmerely furnishes a pretext for satisfying a grudge against an individual\nor a tribe.[492] The mere presence of these images appears to be\nsupposed to benefit the sick; a woman who was seriously ill has been\nseen to lie with four or five ancestral figures fastened at the head of\nher bed. On enquiry she explained that they did not all belong to her,\nbut that some of them had been kindly lent to her by relations and\nfriends.[493] Again, the images are taken by the natives with them to\nwar, because they hope thereby to secure the help of the spirits whom\nthe images represent. Also they make offerings from time to time to the\neffigies and hold feasts in their honour.[494] They observe, indeed,\nthat the food which they present to these household idols remains\nunconsumed, but they explain this by saying that the spirits are content\nto snuff up the savour of the viands, and to leave their gross material\nsubstance alone.[495]\n\n[Sidenote: Images of persons who have died away from home.]\n\nIn general, images are only made of persons who have died at home. But\nin the island of Ron or Run they are also made of persons who have died\naway from home or have fallen in battle. In such cases the difficulty is\nto compel the soul to quit its mortal remains far away and come to\nanimate the image. However, the natives of Ron have found means to\novercome this difficulty. They first carve the wooden image of the dead\nperson and then call his soul back to the village by setting a great\ntree on fire, while the family assemble round it and one of them,\nholding the image in his hand, acts the part of a medium, shivering and\nshaking and falling into a trance after the approved fashion of mediums\nin many lands. After this ceremony the image is supposed to be animated\nby the soul of the deceased, and it is kept in the house with as much\nconfidence as any other.[496]\n\n[Sidenote: Sometimes the head of the image is composed of the skull of\nthe deceased.]\n\nSometimes the head of the image consists of the skull of the deceased,\nwhich has been detached from the skeleton and inserted in a hole at the\ntop of the effigy. In such cases the body of the image is of wood and\nthe head of bone. It is especially men who have distinguished themselves\nby their bravery or have earned a name for themselves in other ways who\nare thus represented. Apparently the notion is that as a personal relic\nof the departed the skull is better fitted to retain his soul than a\nmere head of wood. But in the island of Ron or Run, and perhaps\nelsewhere, skull-topped images of this sort are made for all firstborn\nchildren, whether male or female, young or old, at least for all who die\nfrom the age of twelve years and upward. These images have a special\nname, _bemar boo_, which means \"head of a corpse.\" They are kept in the\nroom of the parents who have lost the child.[497]\n\n[Sidenote: Mode of preparing such skull-headed images.]\n\nThe mode in which such images are prepared is as follows. The body of\nthe firstborn child, who dies at the age of years or upwards, is laid in\na small canoe, which is deposited in a hut erected behind the\ndwelling-house. Here the mother is obliged to keep watch night and day\nbeside the corpse and to maintain a blazing fire till the head drops off\nthe body, which it generally does about twenty days after the death.\nThen the trunk is wrapped in leaves and buried, but the head is brought\ninto the house and carefully preserved. Above the spot where it is\ndeposited a small opening is made in the roof, through which a stick is\nthrust bearing some rags or flags to indicate that the remains of a dead\nbody are in the house. When, after the lapse of three or four months,\nthe nose and ears of the head have dropped off, and the eyes have\nmouldered away, the relations and friends assemble in the house of\nmourning. In the middle of the assembly the father of the child crouches\non his hams with downcast look in an attitude of grief, while one of the\npersons present begins to carve a new nose and a new pair of ears for\nthe skull out of a piece of wood. The kind of wood varies according as\nthe deceased was a male or a female. All the time that the artist is at\nwork, the rest of the company chant a melancholy dirge. When the nose\nand ears are finished and have been attached to the skull, and small\nround fruits have been inserted in the hollow sockets of the eyes to\nrepresent the missing orbs, a banquet follows in honour of the deceased,\nwho is now represented by his decorated skull set up on a block of wood\non the table. Thus he receives his share of the food and of the cigars,\nand is raised to the rank of a domestic idol or _korwar_. Henceforth the\nskull is carefully kept in a corner of the chamber to be consulted as an\noracle in time of need. The bodies of fathers and mothers are treated in\nthe same way as those of firstborn children. On the other hand the\nbodies of children who die under the age of two years are never buried.\nThe remains are packed in baskets of rushes covered with lids and\ntightly corded, and the baskets are then hung on the branches of tall\ntrees, where no more notice is taken of them. Four or five such baskets\ncontaining the mouldering bodies of infants may sometimes be seen\nhanging on a single tree.[498] The reason for thus disposing of the\nremains of young children is said to be as follows. A thick mist hangs\nat evening over the top of the dense tropical forest, and in the mist\ndwell two spirits called Narwur and Imgier, one male and the other\nfemale, who kill little children, not out of malice but out of love,\nbecause they wish to have the children with them. So when a child dies,\nthe parents fasten its little body to the branches of a tall tree in the\nforest, hoping that the spirit pair will take it and be satisfied, and\nwill spare its small brothers and sisters.[499]\n\n[Sidenote: Mummification of the dead.]\n\nIn some parts of Geelvink Bay, however, the bodies of the dead are\ntreated differently. For example, on the south coast of the island of\nJobi or Jappen and elsewhere the corpses are reduced to mummies by being\ndried on a bamboo stage over a slow fire; after which the mummies, wrapt\nin cloth, are kept in the house, being either laid along the wall or\nhung from the ceiling. When the number of these relics begins to\nincommode the living inmates of the house, the older mummies are removed\nand deposited in the hollow trunks of ancient trees. In some tribes who\nthus mummify their dead the juices of corruption which drip from the\nrotting corpse are caught in a vessel and given to the widow to drink,\nwho is forced to gulp them down under the threat of decapitation if she\nwere to reject the loathsome beverage.[500]\n\n[Sidenote: Restrictions observed by mourners. Tattooing in honour of the\ndead. Teeth of the dead worn by relatives.]\n\nThe family in which a death has taken place is subject for a time to\ncertain burdensome restrictions, which are probably dictated by a fear\nof the ghost. Thus all the time till the effigy of the deceased has been\nmade and a feast given in his honour, they are obliged to remain in the\nhouse without going out for any purpose, not even to bathe or to fetch\nfood and drink. Moreover they must abstain from the ordinary articles of\ndiet and confine themselves to half-baked cakes of sago and other\nunpalatable viands. As these restrictions may last for months they are\nnot only irksome but onerous, especially to people who have no slaves to\nfetch and carry for them. However, in that case the neighbours come to\nthe rescue and supply the mourners with wood, water, and the other\nnecessaries of life, until custom allows them to go out and help\nthemselves. After the effigy of the dead has been made, the family go in\nstate to a sacred place to purify themselves by bathing. If the journey\nis made by sea, no other canoe may meet or sail past the canoe of the\nmourners under pain of being confiscated to them and redeemed at a heavy\nprice. On their return from the holy place, the period of mourning is\nover, and the family is free to resume their ordinary mode of life and\ntheir ordinary victuals.[501] That the seclusion of the mourners in the\nhouse for some time after the death springs from a fear of the ghost is\nnot only probable on general grounds but is directly suggested by a\ncustom which is observed at the burial of the body. When it has been\nlaid in the earth along with various articles of daily use, which the\nghost is supposed to require for his comfort, the mourners gather round\nthe grave and each of them picks up a leaf, which he folds in the shape\nof a spoon and holds several times over his head as if he would pour out\nthe contents upon it. As they do so, they all murmur, \"_Rur i rama_,\"\nthat is, \"The spirit comes.\" This exclamation or incantation is supposed\nto prevent the ghost from troubling them. The gravediggers may not enter\ntheir houses till they have bathed and so removed from their persons the\ncontagion of death, in order that the soul of the deceased may have no\npower over them.[502] Mourners sometimes tattoo themselves in honour of\nthe dead. For a father, the marks are tattooed on the cheeks and under\nthe eyes; for a grandfather, on the breast; for a mother, on the\nshoulders and arms; for a brother, on the back. On the death of a father\nor mother, the eldest son or, if there is none such, the eldest daughter\nwears the teeth and hair of the deceased. When the teeth of old people\ndrop out, they are kept on purpose to be thus strung on a string and\nworn by their sons or daughters after their death. Similarly, a mother\nwears as a permanent mark of mourning the teeth of her dead child strung\non a cord round her neck, and as a temporary mark of mourning a little\nbag on her throat containing a lock of the child's hair.[503] The\nintention of these customs is not mentioned. Probably they are not\npurely commemorative but designed in some way either to influence for\ngood the spirit of the departed or to obtain its help and protection for\nthe living.\n\n[Sidenote: Rebirth of parents in their children.]\n\nThus far we have found no evidence among the natives of New Guinea of a\nbelief that the dead are permanently reincarnated in their human\ndescendants. However, the inhabitants of Ayambori, an inland village\nabout an hour distant to the east of Doreh, are reported to believe that\nthe soul of a dead man returns in his eldest son, and that the soul of a\ndead woman returns in her eldest daughter.[504] So stated the belief is\nhardly clear and intelligible; for if a man has several sons, he must\nevidently be alive and not dead when the eldest of them is born, and\nsimilarly with a woman and her eldest daughter. On the analogy of\nsimilar beliefs elsewhere we may conjecture that these Papuans imagine\nevery firstborn son to be animated by the soul of his father, whether\nhis father be alive or dead, and every firstborn daughter to be animated\nby the soul of her mother, whether her mother be alive or dead.\n\n[Sidenote: Customs concerning the dead observed in the islands off the\nwestern end of New Guinea.]\n\nBeliefs and customs concerning the dead like those which we have found\namong the natives of Geelvink Bay are reported to prevail in other parts\nof Dutch New Guinea, but our information about them is much less full.\nThus, off the western extremity of New Guinea there is a group of small\nislands (Waaigeoo, Salawati, Misol, Waigama, and so on), the inhabitants\nof which make _karwar_ or wooden images of their dead ancestors. These\nthey keep in separate rooms of their houses and take with them as\ntalismans to war. In these inner rooms are also kept miniature wooden\nhouses in which their ancestors are believed to reside, and in which\neven Mohammedans (for some of the natives profess Islam) burn incense on\nFridays in honour of the souls of the dead. These souls are treated like\nliving beings, for in the morning some finely pounded sago is placed in\nthe shrines; at noon it is taken away, but may not be eaten by the\ninmates of the house. Curiously enough, women are forbidden to set food\nfor the dead in the shrines: if they did so, it is believed that they\nwould be childless. Further, in the chief's house there are shrines for\nthe souls of all the persons who have died in the whole village. Such a\nhouse might almost be described as a temple of the dead. Among the\ninhabitants of the Negen Negorijen or \"Nine Villages\" the abodes of the\nancestral spirits are often merely frameworks of houses decorated with\ncoloured rags. These frameworks are called _roem seram_. On festal\noccasions they are brought forth and the people dance round them to\nmusic. The mountain tribes of these islands to the west of New Guinea\nseldom have any such little houses for the souls of the dead. They think\nthat the spirits of the departed dwell among the branches of trees, to\nwhich accordingly the living attach strips of red and white cotton,\nalways to the number of seven or a multiple of seven. Also they place\nfood on the branches or hang it in baskets on the boughs,[505] no doubt\nin order to feed the hungry ghosts. But among the tribes on the coast,\nwho make miniature houses for the use of their dead, these little\nshrines form a central feature of the religious life of the people. At\nfestivals, especially on the occasion of a marriage or a death, the\nshrines are brought out from the side chamber and are set down in the\ncentral room of the house, where the people dance round them, singing\nand making music for days together with no interruption except for\nmeals.[506]\n\n[Sidenote: Wooden images of the dead.]\n\nAccording to the Dutch writer, Mr. de Clercq, whose account I am\nreproducing, this worship of the dead, represented by wooden images\n(_karwar_) and lodged in miniature houses, is, together with a belief in\ngood and bad spirits, the only thing deserving the name of religion that\ncan be detected among these people. It is certain that the wooden images\nrepresent members of the family who died a natural death at home; they\nare never, as in Ansoes and Waropen, images of persons who have been\nmurdered or slain in battle. Hence they form a kind of Penates, who are\nsupposed to lead an invisible life in the family circle. The natives of\nthe Negen Negorijen, for example, believe that these wooden images\n(_karwar_), which are both male and female, contain the souls of their\nancestors, who protect the house and household and are honoured at\nfestivals by having portions of food set beside their images.[507] The\nSeget Sele, who occupy the extreme westerly point of New Guinea, bury\ntheir dead in the island of Lago and set up little houses in the forest\nfor the use of the spirits of their ancestors. But these little houses\nmay never be entered or even approached by members of the family.[508] A\ntraveller, who visited a hut occupied by members of the Seget tribe in\nPrincess Island, or Kararaboe, found a sick man in it and observed that\nbefore the front and back door were set up double rows of roughly hewn\nimages painted with red and black stripes. He was told that these images\nwere intended to keep off the sickness; for the natives thought that it\nwould not dare to run the gauntlet between the double rows of figures\ninto the house.[509] We may conjecture that these rude images\nrepresented ancestral spirits who were doing sentinel duty over the sick\nman.\n\n[Sidenote: Customs concerning the dead among the natives of the Macluer\nGulf.]\n\nAmong the natives of the Macluer Gulf, which penetrates deep into the\nwestern part of Dutch New Guinea, the souls of dead men who have\ndistinguished themselves by bravery or in other ways are honoured in the\nshape of wooden images, which are sometimes wrapt in cloth and decorated\nwith shells about the neck. In Sekar, a village on the south side of the\ngulf, small bowls, called _kararasa_ after the spirits of ancestors who\nare believed to lodge in them, are hung up in the houses; on special\noccasions food is placed in them. In some of the islands of the Macluer\nGulf the dead are laid in hollows of the rocks, which are then adorned\nwith drawings of birds, hands, and so forth. The hands are always\npainted white or yellowish on a red ground. The other figures are drawn\nwith chalk on the weathered surface of the rock. But the natives either\ncannot or will not give any explanation of the custom.[510]\n\n[Sidenote: Burial and mourning customs in the Mimika district.]\n\nThe Papuans of the Mimika district, on the southern coast of Dutch New\nGuinea, sometimes bury their dead in shallow graves near the huts;\nsometimes they place them in coffins on rough trestles and leave them\nthere till decomposition is complete, when they remove the skull and\npreserve it in the house, either burying it in the sand of the floor or\nhanging it in a sort of basket from the roof, where it becomes brown\nwith smoke and polished with frequent handling. The people do not appear\nto be particularly attached to these relics of their kinsfolk and they\nsell them readily to Europeans. Mourners plaster themselves all over\nwith mud, and sometimes they bathe in the river, probably as a mode of\nceremonial purification. They believe in ghosts, which they call\n_niniki_; but beyond that elementary fact we have no information as to\ntheir beliefs concerning the state of the dead.[511]\n\n[Sidenote: Burial customs at Windessi.]\n\nThe natives of Windessi in Dutch New Guinea generally bury their dead\nthe day after the decease. As a rule the corpse is wrapt in mats and a\npiece of blue cloth and laid on a scaffold; few are coffined. All the\npossessions of the dead, including weapons, fishing-nets, wooden bowls,\npots, and so forth, according as the deceased was a man or a woman, are\nplaced beside him or her. If the death is attributed to the influence of\nan evil spirit, they take hold of a lock of hair of the corpse and\nmention various places. At the mention of each place, they tug the hair;\nand if it comes out, they conclude that the death was caused by somebody\nat the place which was mentioned at the moment. But if the hair does not\ncome out, they infer that evil spirits had no hand in the affair. Before\nthe body is carried away, the family bathes, no doubt to purify\nthemselves from the contagion of death. Among the people of Windessi it\nis a common custom to bury the dead in an island. At such a burial the\nbystanders pick up a fallen leaf, tear it in two, and stroke the corpse\nwith it, in order that the ghost of the departed may not kill them. When\nthe body has been disposed of either in a grave or on a scaffold, they\nembark in the canoe and sit listening for omens. One of the men in a\nloud voice bids the birds and the flies to be silent; and all the others\nsit as still as death in an attitude of devotion. At last, after an\ninterval of silence, the man who called out tells his fellows what he\nhas heard. If it was the buzz of the blue flies that he heard, some one\nelse will die. If it was the booming sound of a triton shell blown in\nthe distance, a raid must be made in that direction to rob and murder.\nWhy it must be so, is not said, but we may suppose that the note of the\ntriton shell is believed to betray the place of the enemy who has\nwrought the death by magic, and that accordingly an expedition must be\nsent to avenge the supposed crime on the supposed murderer. If the note\nof a bird called _kohwi_ is heard, then the fruit-trees will bear fruit.\nThough all the men sit listening in the canoe, the ominous sounds are\nheard only by the man who called out.[512]\n\n[Sidenote: Mourning customs at Windessi.]\n\nWhen the omens have thus been taken, the paddles again dip in the water,\nand the canoe returns to the house of mourning. Arrived at it, the men\ndisembark, climb up the ladder (for the houses seem to be built on piles\nover the water) and run the whole length of the long house with their\npaddles on their shoulders. Curiously enough, they never do this at any\nother time, because they imagine that it would cause the death of\nsomebody. Meantime the women have gone into the forest to get bark,\nwhich they beat into bark-cloth and make into mourning caps for\nthemselves. The men busy themselves with plaiting armlets and leglets of\nrattan, in which some red rags are stuck. Large blue and white beads are\nstrung on a red cord and worn round the neck. Further, the hair is shorn\nin sign of mourning. Mourners are forbidden to eat anything cooked in a\npot. Sago-porridge, which is a staple food with some of the natives of\nNew Guinea, is also forbidden to mourners at Windessi. If they would eat\nrice, it must be cooked in a bamboo. The doors and windows of the house\nare closed with planks or mats, just as with us the blinds are lowered\nin a house after a death. The surviving relatives make as many long\nsago-cakes as there are houses in the village and send them to the\ninmates; they also prepare a few for themselves. All who do not belong\nto the family now leave the house of mourning. Then the eldest brother\nor his representative gets up and all follow him to the back verandah,\nwhere a woman stands holding a bow and arrows, an axe, a paddle, and so\nforth. Every one touches these implements. Since the death, there has\nbeen no working in the house, but this time of inactivity is now over\nand every one is free to resume his usual occupations. This ends the\npreliminary ceremonies of mourning, which go by the name of _djawarra_.\n\nA month afterwards round cakes of sago are baked on the fire, and all\nthe members of the family, their friends, and the persons who assisted\nat the burial receive three such cakes each. Only very young children\nare now allowed to eat sago-porridge. This ceremony is called _djawarra\nbaba_.\n\n[Sidenote: Festival of the dead. Wooden images of the dead.]\n\nWhen a year or more has elapsed, the so-called festival of the dead\ntakes place. Often the festival is held for several dead at the same\ntime, and in that case the cost is borne in common. From far and near\nthe people have collected sago, coco-nuts, and other food. For two\nnights and a day they dance and sing, but without the accompaniment of\ndrums (_tifa_) and gongs. The first night, the signs of mourning are\nstill worn, hence no sago-porridge may be eaten; only friends who are\nnot in mourning are allowed to partake of it. The night is spent in\neating, drinking, smoking, singing and dancing. Next day many people\nmake _korwars_ of their dead, that is, grotesque wooden images carved in\nhuman form, which are regarded as the representatives of the departed.\nSome people fetch the head of the deceased person, and having made a\nwooden image with a large head and a hole in the back of it, they insert\nthe skull into the wooden head from behind. After that friends feed the\nmourners with sago-porridge, putting it into their mouths with the help\nof the chopsticks which are commonly used in eating sago. When that is\ndone, the period of mourning is at an end, and the signs of mourning are\nthrown away. A dance on the beach follows, at which the new wooden\nimages of the dead make their appearance. But still the drums and gongs\nare silent. Dancing and singing go on till the next morning, when the\nwhole of the ceremonies come to an end.[513]\n\n[Sidenote: Fear of the ghost.]\n\nThe exact meaning of all these ceremonies is not clear, but we may\nconjecture that they are based in large measure on the fear of the\nghost. That fear comes out plainly in the ceremony of stroking the\ncorpse with leaves in order to prevent the ghost from killing the\nsurvivors. The writer to whom we are indebted for an account of these\ncustoms tells us in explanation of them that among these people death is\nascribed to the influence of evil spirits called _manoam_, who are\nsupposed to be incarnate in some human beings. Hence they often seek to\navenge a death by murdering somebody who has the reputation of being an\nevil spirit incarnate. If they succeed in doing so, they celebrate the\npreliminary mourning ceremonies called _djawarra_ and _djawarra baba_,\nbut the festival of the dead is changed into a memorial festival, at\nwhich the people dance and sing to the accompaniment of drums (_tifa_),\ngongs, and triton shells; and instead of carving a wooden image of the\ndeceased, they make marks on the fleshless skull of the murdered\nman.[514]\n\n[Sidenote: Beliefs of the natives of Windessi as to the life after\ndeath. Medicine-men inspired by the spirits of the dead.]\n\nThe natives of Windessi are said to have the following belief as to the\nlife after death, though we are told that the creed is now known to very\nfew of them; for their old beliefs and customs are fading away under the\ninfluence of a mission station which is established among them.\nAccording to their ancient creed, every man and every woman has two\nspirits, and in the nether world, called _sarooka_, is a large house\nwhere there is room for all the people of Windessi. When a woman dies,\nboth her spirits always go down to the nether world, where they are\nclothed with flesh and bones, need do no work, and live for ever. But\nwhen a man dies, only one of his spirits must go to the under world; the\nother may pass or transmigrate into a living man or, in rare cases, into\na living woman; the person so inspired by a dead man's spirit becomes an\n_inderri_, that is, a medicine-man or medicine-woman and has power to\nheal the sick. When a person wishes to become a medicine-man or\nmedicine-woman, he or she acts as follows. If a man has died, and his\nfriends are sitting about the corpse lamenting, the would-be\nmedicine-man suddenly begins to shiver and to rub his knee with his\nfolded hands, while he utters a monotonous sound. Gradually he falls\ninto an ecstasy, and if his whole body shakes convulsively, the spirit\nof the dead man is supposed to have entered into him, and he becomes a\nmedicine-man. Next day or the day after he is taken into the forest;\nsome hocus-pocus is performed over him, and the spirits of lunatics, who\ndwell in certain thick trees, are invoked to take possession of him. He\nis now himself called a lunatic, and on returning home behaves as if he\nwere half-crazed. This completes his training as a medicine-man, and he\nis now fully qualified to kill or cure the sick. His mode of cure\ndepends on the native theory of sickness. These savages think that\nsickness is caused by a malicious or angry spirit, apparently the spirit\nof a dead person; for a patient will say, \"The _korwar_\" (that is, the\nwooden image which represents a particular dead person) \"is murdering\nme, or is making me sick.\" So the medicine-man is called in, and sets to\nwork on the sufferer, while the _korwar_, or wooden image of the spirit\nwho is supposed to be doing all the mischief, stands beside him. The\nprincipal method of cure employed by the doctor is massage. He chews a\ncertain fruit fine and rubs the patient with it; also he pinches him all\nover the body as if to drive out the spirit. Often he professes to\nextract a stone, a bone, or a stick from the body of the sufferer. At\nlast he gives out that he has ascertained the cause of the sickness; the\nsick man has done or has omitted to do something which has excited the\nanger of the spirit.[515]\n\n[Sidenote: Ghosts of slain enemies dreaded.]\n\nFrom all this it would seem that the souls of the dead are more feared\nthan loved and reverenced by the Papuans of Windessi. Naturally the\nghosts of enemies who have perished at their hands are particularly\ndreaded by them. That dread explains some of the ceremonies which are\nobserved in the village at the return of a successful party of\nhead-hunters. As they draw near the village, they announce their\napproach and success by blowing on triton shells. Their canoes also are\ndecked with branches. The faces of the men who have taken a head are\nblackened with charcoal; and if several have joined in killing one man,\nhis skull is divided between them. They always time their arrival so as\nto reach home in the early morning. They come paddling to the village\nwith a great noise, and the women stand ready to dance in the verandahs\nof the houses. The canoes row past the _roem sram_ or clubhouse where\nthe young men live; and as they pass, the grimy-faced slayers fling as\nmany pointed sticks or bamboos at the house as they have killed enemies.\nThe rest of the day is spent very quietly. But now and then they drum or\nblow on the conch, and at other times they beat on the walls of the\nhouses with sticks, shouting loudly at the same time, to drive away the\nghosts of their victims.[516]\n\nThat concludes what I have to say as to the fear and worship of the dead\nin Dutch New Guinea.\n\n[Footnote 475: G. Bamler, \"Tami,\" in R. Neuhauss's _Deutsch Neu-Guinea_,\niii. (Berlin, 1911) pp. 489-492.]\n\n[Footnote 476: G. Bamler, _op. cit._ pp. 507-512.]\n\n[Footnote 477: G. Bamler, _op. cit._ pp. 513 _sq._]\n\n[Footnote 478: G. Bamler, _op. cit._ pp. 514 _sq._]\n\n[Footnote 479: G. Bamler, _op. cit._ pp. 515 _sq._]\n\n[Footnote 480: G. Bamler, _op. cit._ p. 516.]\n\n[Footnote 481: G. Bamler, _op. cit._ pp. 493-507.]\n\n[Footnote 482: J. L. van Hasselt, \"Die Papuastaemme an der Geelvinkbai\n(Neu-guinea),\" _Mitteilungen der geographischen Gesellschaft zu Jena_,\nix. (1890) p. 1; F. S. A. de Clercq, \"De West en Noordkust van\nNederlandsch Nieuw-Guinea,\" _Tijdschrift van het Kon. Nederlandsch\nAardrijkskundig Genootschap_, Tweede Serie, x. (1893) pp. 587 _sq._]\n\n[Footnote 483: J. L. van Hasselt, _op. cit._ pp. 2, 3, 5 _sq._; A.\nGoudswaard, _De Papoewa's van de Geelvinksbaai_ (Schiedam, 1863), pp. 28\n_sqq._, 33 _sqq._, 42 _sq._, 47 _sqq._]\n\n[Footnote 484: J. L. van Hasselt, \"Die Papuastaemme an der Geelvinkbai\n(Neu-guinea),\" _Mitteilungen der Geographischen Gesellschaft zu Jena_,\nix. (1891) p. 101.]\n\n[Footnote 485: H. van Rosenberg, _Der Malayische Archipel_ (Leipsic,\n1878), p. 461.]\n\n[Footnote 486: H. van Rosenberg, _op. cit._ p. 462.]\n\n[Footnote 487: M. Krieger, _Neu-Guinea_ (Berlin, N.D., preface dated\n1899), pp. 401, 402.]\n\n[Footnote 488: A. Goudswaard, _De Papoewa's van de Geelvinksbaai_\n(Schiedam, 1863), p. 77. Compare O. Finsch, _Neu-Guinea und seine\nBewohner_ (Bremen, 1865), p. 105.]\n\n[Footnote 489: F. S. A. de Clercq, \"De West- en Noordkust van\nNederlandsch Nieuw-Guinea,\" _Tijdschrift van het Kon. Nederlandsch\nAardrijkskundig Genootschap_, Tweede Serie, x. (1893) p. 631. On these\n_korwar_ or _karwar_ (images of the dead) see further A. Goudswaard, _De\nPapoewa's van de Geelvinksbaai_, pp. 72 _sq._, 77-79; O. Finsch,\n_Neu-Guinea und seine Bewohner_, pp. 104-106; H. von Rosenberg, _Der\nMalayische Archipel_, pp. 460 _sq._; J. L. van Hasselt, \"Die Papuastaemme\nan der Geelvinkbaai (Neu-Guinea)\" _Mitteilungen der Geographischen\nGesellschaft zu Jena_, ix. (1891) p. 100; M. Krieger, _Neu-Guinea_, pp.\n400 _sq._, 402 _sq._, 498 _sqq._ In the text I have drawn on these\nvarious accounts.]\n\n[Footnote 490: J. L. van Hasselt, _l.c._]\n\n[Footnote 491: A. Goudswaard, _De Papoewa's van de Geelvinksbaai_, pp.\n78 _sq._; O. Finsch, _Neu-Guinea und seine Bewohner_, pp. 105 _sq._]\n\n[Footnote 492: A. Goudswaard, _op. cit._ p. 79; O. Finsch, _op. cit._ p.\n106.]\n\n[Footnote 493: J. L. van Hasselt, _op. cit._ p. 100.]\n\n[Footnote 494: A. Goudswaard, _op. cit._ p. 78.]\n\n[Footnote 495: F. S. A. de Clercq, _op. cit._ p. 632.]\n\n[Footnote 496: F. S. A. de Clercq, _op. cit._ p. 632.]\n\n[Footnote 497: F. S. A. de Clercq, _op. cit._ p. 632.]\n\n[Footnote 498: A. Goudswaard, _De Papoewa's van de Geelvinksbaai_, pp.\n70-73; O. Finsch, _Neu-Guinea und seine Bewohner_ pp. 104 _sq._; M.\nKrieger, _Neu-Guinea_, p. 398.]\n\n[Footnote 499: J. L. van Hasselt, in _Mitteilungen der Geographischen\nGesellschaft zu Jena_, iv. (1886) pp. 118 _sq._ As to the spirit or\nspirits who dwell in tree tops and draw away the souls of the living to\nthemselves, see further \"Eenige bijzonderheden betreffende de Papoeas\nvan de Geelvinksbaai van Nieuw-Guinea,\" _Bijdragen tot de Taal- Landen\nVolkenkunde van Neerlandsch-Indie_, ii. (1854) pp. 375 _sq._]\n\n[Footnote 500: A. Goudswaard, _De Papoewa's van de Geelvinksbaai_, p.\n73; J. L. van Hasselt, in _Mitteilungen der Geographischen Gesellschaft\nzu Jena_, iv. (1886) p. 118; M. Krieger, _Neu-Guinea_, pp. 398. _sq._]\n\n[Footnote 501: A. Goudswaard, _De Papoewa's van de Geelvinksbaai_, pp.\n75 _sq._]\n\n[Footnote 502: J. L. van Hasselt, in _Mitteilungen der Geographischen\nGesellschaft zu Jena_, iv. (1886) 117 _sq._; M. Krieger, _op. cit._ pp.\n397 _sq._]\n\n[Footnote 503: A. Goudswaard, _op. cit._ pp. 74 _sq._]\n\n[Footnote 504: _Nieuw Guinea ethnographisch en natuurkundig onderzocht\nen beschreven_ (Amsterdam, 1862), p. 162.]\n\n[Footnote 505: F. S. A. de Clercq, \"De West- en Noordkust van\nNederlandsch Nieuw-Guinea,\" _Tijdschrift van het Kon. Nederlandsch\nAardrijkskundig Genootschap_, Tweede Serie, x. (1893) pp. 198 _sq._]\n\n[Footnote 506: F. S. A. de Clercq, _op. cit._ p. 201.]\n\n[Footnote 507: F. S. A. de Clercq, _op. cit._ pp. 202, 205.]\n\n[Footnote 508: F. S. A. de Clercq, _op. cit._ p. 211.]\n\n[Footnote 509: J. W. van Hille, \"Reizen in West-Nieuw-Guinea,\"\n_Tijdschrift van het Kon. Nederlandsch Aardrijkskundig Genootschap_,\nTweede Serie, xxiii. (1906) p. 463.]\n\n[Footnote 510: F. S. A. de Clercq, _op. cit._ pp. 459 _sq._, 461 _sq._ A\nGerman traveller, Mr. H. Kuehn, spent some time at Sekar and purchased a\ncouple of what he calls \"old heathen idols,\" which are now in the\nethnological Museum at Leipsic. One of them, about a foot high,\nrepresents a human head and bust; the other, about two feet high,\nrepresents a squat sitting figure. They are probably ancestral images\n(_korwar_ or _karwar_). The natives are said to have such confidence in\nthe protection of these \"idols\" that they leave their jewellery and\nother possessions unguarded beside them, in the full belief that nobody\nwould dare to steal anything from spots protected by such mighty beings.\nSee H. Kuehn, \"Mein Aufenthalt in Neu-Guinea,\" _Festschrift des\n25jaehrigen Bestehens des Vereins fuer Erdkunde zu Dresden_ (Dresden,\n1888), pp. 143 _sq._]\n\n[Footnote 511: A. F. R. Wollaston, _Pygmies and Papuans_ (London, 1912),\npp. 132 _sq._, 136-140.]\n\n[Footnote 512: J. L. D. van der Roest, \"Uit the leven der bevolking van\nWindessi,\" _Tijdschrift voor Indische Taal- Landen Volkenkunde_, xl.\n(1898) pp. 159 _sq._]\n\n[Footnote 513: J. L. D. van der Roest, _op. cit._ pp. 161 _sq._]\n\n[Footnote 514: J. L. D. van der Roest, _op. cit._ p. 162.]\n\n[Footnote 515: J. L. D. van der Roest, _op. cit._ pp. 164-166.]\n\n[Footnote 516: J. L. D. van der Roest, _op. cit._ pp. 157 _sq._]\n\n\n\n\nLECTURE XV\n\nTHE BELIEF IN IMMORTALITY AMONG THE NATIVES OF SOUTHERN MELANESIA (NEW\nCALEDONIA)\n\n\n[Sidenote: Melanesia and the Melanesians.]\n\nIn the last lecture I concluded our survey of the beliefs and practices\nconcerning death and the dead which are reported to prevail among the\nnatives of New Guinea. We now pass to the natives of Melanesia, the\ngreat archipelago or rather chain of archipelagoes, which stretches\nround the north-eastern and eastern ends of New Guinea and southward,\nparallel to the coast of Queensland, till it almost touches the tropic\nof Capricorn. Thus the islands lie wholly within the tropics and are for\nthe most part characterised by tropical heat and tropical luxuriance of\nvegetation. Only New Caledonia, the most southerly of the larger\nislands, differs somewhat from the rest in its comparatively cool\nclimate and scanty flora.[517] The natives of the islands belong to the\nMelanesian race. They are dark-skinned and woolly-haired and speak a\nlanguage which is akin to the Polynesian language. In material culture\nthey stand roughly on the same level as the natives of New Guinea, a\nconsiderable part of whom in the south-eastern part of the island, as I\npointed out before, are either pure Melanesians or at all events exhibit\na strong infusion of Melanesian blood. They cultivate the ground, live\nin settled villages, build substantial houses, construct\noutrigger-canoes, display some aptitude for art, possess strong\ncommercial instincts, and even employ various mediums of exchange, of\nwhich shell-money is the most notable.[518]\n\n[Sidenote: The New Caledonians.]\n\nWe shall begin our survey of these islands with New Caledonia in the\nsouth, and from it shall pass northwards through the New Hebrides and\nSolomon Islands to the Bismarck Archipelago, which consists chiefly of\nthe two great islands of New Britain and New Ireland with the group of\nthe Admiralty Islands terminating it to the westward. For our knowledge\nof the customs and religion of the New Caledonians we depend chiefly on\nthe evidence of a Catholic missionary, Father Lambert, who has worked\namong them since 1856 and has published a valuable book on the\nsubject.[519] To be exact, his information applies not to the natives of\nNew Caledonia itself, but to the inhabitants of a group of small\nislands, which lie immediately off the northern extremity of the island\nand are known as the Belep group. Father Lambert began to labour among\nthe Belep at a time when no white man had as yet resided among them. At\na later time circumstances led him to transfer his ministry to the Isle\nof Pines, which lies off the opposite or southern end of New Caledonia.\nA comparative study of the natives at the two extremities of New\nCaledonia revealed to him an essential similarity in their beliefs and\ncustoms; so that it is not perhaps very rash to assume that similar\ncustoms prevail among the aborigines of New Caledonia itself, which lies\nintermediate between the two points observed by Father Lambert.[520] The\nassumption is confirmed by evidence which was collected by Dr. George\nTurner from the mainland of New Caledonia so long ago as 1845.[521]\nAccordingly in what follows I shall commonly speak of the New\nCaledonians in general, though the statements for the most part apply in\nparticular to the Belep tribe.\n\n[Sidenote: Beliefs of the New Calendonians as to the land of the dead.]\n\nThe souls of the New Caledonians, like those of most savages, are\nsupposed to be immortal, at least to survive death for an indefinite\nperiod. They all go, good and bad alike, to dwell in a very rich and\nbeautiful country situated at the bottom of the sea, to the north-east\nof the island of Pott. The name of the land of souls is Tsiabiloum. But\nbefore they reach this happy land they must run the gauntlet of a grim\nspirit called Kiemoua, who has his abode on a rock in the island of\nPott. He is a fisherman of souls; for he catches them as they pass in a\nnet and after venting his fury on them he releases them, and they pursue\ntheir journey to Tsiabiloum, the land of the dead. It is a country more\nfair and fertile than tongue can tell. Yams, taros, sugar-canes, bananas\nall grow there in profusion and without cultivation. There are forests\nof wild orange-trees, also, and the golden fruits serve the blessed\nspirits as playthings. You can tell roughly how long it is since a\nspirit quitted the upper world by the colour of the orange which he\nplays with; for the oranges of those who have just arrived are green;\nthe oranges of those who have been longer dead are ripe; and the oranges\nof those who died long ago are dry and wizened. There is no night in\nthat blessed land, and no sleep; for the eyes of the spirits are never\nweighed down with slumber. Sorrow and sickness, decrepitude and death\nnever enter; even boredom is unknown. But it is only the nights, or\nrather the hours corresponding to nights on earth, which the spirits\npass in these realms of bliss. At daybreak they revisit their old home\non earth and take up their posts in the cemeteries where they are\nhonoured; then at nightfall they flit away back to the spirit-land\nbeneath the sea, there to resume their sport with oranges, green,\ngolden, or withered, till dawn of day. On these repeated journeys to and\nfro they have nothing to fear from the grim fisherman and his net; it is\nonly on their first passage to the nether world that he catches and\ntrounces them.[522]\n\n[Sidenote: Burial customs of the New Calendonians.]\n\nThe bodies of the dead are buried in shallow graves, which are dug in a\nsacred grove. The corpse is placed in a crouching attitude with the head\nat or above the surface of the ground, in order to allow of the skull\nbeing easily detached from the trunk, at a subsequent time. In token of\nsorrow the nearest relations of the deceased tear the lobes of their\nears and inflict large burns on their arms and breasts. The houses,\nnets, and other implements of the dead are burnt; his plantations are\nravaged, his coco-nut palms felled with the axe. The motive for this\ndestruction of the property of the deceased is not mentioned, but the\ncustom points to a fear of the ghost; the people probably make his old\nhome as unattractive as possible in order to offer him no temptation to\nreturn and haunt them. The same fear of the ghost, or at all events of\nthe infection of death, is revealed by the stringent seclusion and\nceremonial pollution of the grave-diggers. They are two in number; no\nother persons may handle the corpse. After they have discharged their\noffice they must remain near the corpse for four or five days, observing\na rigorous fast and keeping apart from their wives. They may not shave\nor cut their hair, and they are obliged to wear a tall pyramidal and\nvery cumbersome head-dress. They may not touch food with their hands. If\nthey help themselves to it, they must pick it up with their mouths alone\nor with a stick, not with their fingers. Oftener they are fed by an\nattendant, who puts the victuals into their mouths as he might do if\nthey were palsied. On the other hand they are treated by the people with\ngreat respect; common folk will not pass near them without\nstooping.[523]\n\n[Sidenote: Sham fight as a mourning ceremony.]\n\nA curious ceremony which the New Caledonians observe at a certain period\nof mourning for the dead is a sham fight. Father Lambert describes one\nsuch combat which he witnessed. A number of men were divided into two\nparties; one party was posted on the beach, the other and much larger\nparty was stationed in the adjoining cemetery, where food and property\nhad been collected. From time to time a long piercing yell would be\nheard; then a number of men would break from the crowd in the cemetery\nand rush furiously down to the beach with their slings and stones ready\nto assail their adversaries. These, answering yell with yell, would then\nplunge into the sea, armed with battle-axes and clubs, while they made a\nfeint of parrying the stones hurled at them by the other side. But\nneither the shots nor the parries appeared to be very seriously meant.\nThen when the assailants retired, the fugitives pretended to pursue\nthem, till both parties had regained their original position. The same\nscene of alternate attack and retreat was repeated hour after hour, till\nat last, the pretence of enmity being laid aside, the two parties joined\nin a dance, their heads crowned with leafy garlands. Father Lambert, who\ndescribes this ceremony as an eye-witness, offers no explanation of it.\nBut as he tells us that all deaths are believed by these savages to be\nan effect of sorcery, we may conjecture that the sham fight is intended\nto delude the ghost into thinking that his death is being avenged on the\nsorcerer who killed him.[524] In former lectures I shewed that similar\npretences are made, apparently for a similar purpose, by some of the\nnatives of Australia and New Guinea.[525] If the explanation is correct,\nwe can hardly help applauding the ingenuity which among these savages\nhas discovered a bloodless mode of satisfying the ghost's craving for\nblood.\n\n[Sidenote: Preservation of the skulls of the dead.]\n\nAbout a year after the death, when the flesh of the corpse is entirely\ndecayed, the skull is removed and placed solemnly in another\nburying-ground, or rather charnel-house, where all the skulls of the\nfamily are deposited. Every family has such a charnel-house, which is\ncommonly situated near the dwelling. It appears to be simply an open\nspace in the forest, where the skulls are set in a row on the\nground.[526] Yet in a sense it may be called a temple for the worship of\nancestors; for recourse is had to the skulls on various occasions in\norder to obtain the help of the spirits of the dead. \"The true worship\nof the New Caledonians,\" says Father Lambert, \"is the worship of\nancestors. Each family has its own; it religiously preserves their name;\nit is proud of them and has confidence in them. Hence it has its\nburial-place and its pious hearth for the sacrifices to be offered to\ntheir ghosts. It is the most inviolable piece of property; an\nencroachment on such a spot by a neighbour is a thing unheard of.\"[527]\n\n[Sidenote: Examples of ancestor-worship among the New Caledonians.]\n\nA few examples may serve to illustrate the ancestor-worship of the New\nCaledonians. When a person is sick, a member of the family, never a\nstranger, is appointed to heal him by means of certain magical\ninsufflations. To enable him to do so with effect the healer first\nrepairs to the family charnel-house and lays some sugar-cane leaves\nbeside the skulls, saying, \"I lay these leaves on you that I may go and\nbreathe upon our sick relative, to the end that he may live.\" Then he\ngoes to a tree belonging to the family and lays other sugar-cane leaves\nat its foot, saying, \"I lay these leaves beside the tree of my father\nand of my grandfather, in order that my breath may have healing virtue.\"\nNext he takes some leaves of the tree or a piece of its bark, chews it\ninto a mash, and then goes and breathes on the patient, his breath being\nmoistened with spittle which is charged with particles of the leaves or\nthe bark.[528] Thus the healing virtue of his breath would seem to be\ndrawn from the spirits of the dead as represented partly by their skulls\nand partly by the leaves and bark of the tree which belonged to them in\nlife, and to which their souls appear in some manner to be attached in\ndeath.\n\n[Sidenote: Prayers for fish.]\n\nAgain, when a shoal of fish has made its appearance on the reef, a\nnumber of superstitious ceremonies have to be performed before the\npeople may go and spear them in the water. On the eve of the fishing-day\nthe medicine-man of the tribe causes a quantity of leaves of certain\nspecified plants to be collected and roasted in the native ovens. Next\nday the leaves are taken from the ovens and deposited beside the\nancestral skulls, which have been arranged and decorated for the\nceremony. All the fishermen, armed with their fishing-spears, repair to\nthe holy ground or sacred grove where the skulls are kept, and there\nthey draw themselves up in two rows, while the medicine-man chants an\ninvocation or prayer for a good catch. At every verse the crowd raises a\ncry of approval and assent. At its conclusion the medicine-man sets an\nexample by thrusting with his spear at a fish, and all the men\nimmediately plunge into the water and engage in fishing.[529]\n\n[Sidenote: Prayers for sugar-cane.]\n\nAgain, in order that a sugar plantation may flourish, the medicine-man\nwill lay a sugar-cane beside the ancestral skulls, saying, \"This is for\nyou. We beg of you to ward off all curses, all tricks of wicked people,\nin order that our plantations may prosper.\"[530]\n\n[Sidenote: Prayers for yams.]\n\nAgain, when the store of yams is running short and famine is beginning\nto be felt, the New Caledonians celebrate a festival called _moulim_ in\nwhich the worship of their ancestors is the principal feature. A staff\nis wreathed with branches, apparently to represent a yam, and a hedge of\ncoco-nut leaves is made near the ancestral skulls. The decorated staff\nis then set up there, and prayers for the prosperity of the crops are\noffered over and over again. After that nobody may enter a yam-field or\na cemetery or touch sea-water for three days. On the third day a man\nstationed on a mound chants an invocation or incantation in a loud\nvoice. Next all the men go down to the shore, each of them with a\nfirebrand in his hand, and separating into two parties engage in a sham\nfight. Afterwards they bathe and repairing to the charnel-house deposit\ncoco-nut leaves beside the skulls of their ancestors. They are then free\nto partake of the feast which has been prepared by the women.[531]\n\n[Sidenote: Caverns used by the natives as charnel-houses in the Isle of\nPines.]\n\nWhile the beliefs and customs of the New Caledonians in regard to the\ndead bear a general resemblance to each other, whether they belong to\nthe north or to the south of the principal island, a special feature is\nintroduced into the mortuary customs of the natives of the Isle of Pines\nby the natural caves and grottoes with which the outer rim of the\nisland, to the distance of several miles from the shore, is riddled; for\nin these caverns the natives in the old heathen days were wont to\ndeposit the bones and skulls of their dead and to use the caves as\nsanctuaries or chapels for the worship of the spirits of the departed.\nSome of the caves are remarkable both in themselves and in their\nsituation. Most of those which the natives turned into charnel-houses\nare hidden away, sometimes at great distances, in the rank luxuriance of\nthe tropical forests. Some of them open straight from the level of the\nground; to reach others you must clamber up the rocks; to explore others\nyou must descend into the bowels of the earth. A glimmering twilight\nillumines some; thick darkness veils others, and it is only by\ntorchlight that you can explore their mysterious depths. Penetrating\ninto the interior by the flickering gleam of flambeaus held aloft by the\nguides, and picking your steps among loose stones and pools of water,\nyou might fancy yourself now in the great hall of a ruined castle, now\nin the vast nave of a gothic cathedral with its chapels opening off it\ninto the darkness on either hand. The illusion is strengthened by the\nmultitude of stalactites which hang from the roof of the cavern and,\nglittering in the fitful glow of the torches, might be taken for burning\ncressets kindled to light up the revels in a baronial hall, or for holy\nlamps twinkling in the gloom of a dim cathedral aisle before holy\nimages, where solitary worshippers kneel in silent devotion. In the\nshifting play of the light and shadow cast by the torches the fantastic\nshapes of the incrustations which line the sides or rise from the floor\nof the grotto appear to the imagination of the observer now as the\ngnarled trunks of huge trees, now as statues or torsos of statues, now\nas altars, on which perhaps a nearer approach reveals a row of blanched\nand grinning skulls. No wonder if such places, chosen for the last\nresting-places of the relics of mortality, have fed the imagination of\nthe natives with weird notions of a life after death, a life very\ndifferent from that which the living lead in the glowing sunshine and\namid the rich tropical verdure a few paces outside of these gloomy\ncaverns. It is with a shiver and a sense of relief that the visitor\nescapes from them to the warm outer air and sees again the ferns and\ncreepers hanging over the mouth of the cave like a green fringe against\nthe intense blue of the sky.[532]\n\n[Sidenote: Sea-caves.]\n\nWhile this is the general character of the caves which are to be found\nhidden away in the forests, many of those near the shore consist simply\nof apertures hollowed out in the face of the cliffs by the slow but\ncontinuous action of the waves in the course of ages. On the beach\nitself sea-caves are found in which the rising tide precipitates itself\nwith a hollow roar as of subterranean thunder; and at a point, some way\nback from the strand, where the roof of one of these caves has fallen\nin, the salt water is projected into the air in the form of intermittent\njets of spray, which vary in height with the force of the wind and\ntide.[533]\n\n[Sidenote: Prayers and sacrifices offered to the dead by the New\nCaledonians.]\n\nWith regard to the use which the natives make of these caves as\ncharnel-houses and mortuary chapels, Father Lambert tells us that any\none of them usually includes three compartments, a place of burial, a\nplace of skulls, and a place of sacrifice. But often the place of skulls\nis also the place of sacrifice; and in no case is the one far from the\nother. The family priest, who is commonly the senior member of the\nfamily, may address his prayers to the ancestors in the depth of the\ncavern, in the place of skulls, or in the place of sacrifice, whenever\ncircumstances call for a ritual of unusual solemnity. Otherwise with the\nhelp of his amulets he may pray to the souls of the forefathers\nanywhere; for these amulets consist of personal and portable relics of\nthe dead, such as locks of hair, teeth, and so forth; or again they may\nbe leaves or other parts of plants which are sacred to the family; so\nthat a wizard who is in possession of them can always and anywhere\ncommunicate with the ancestral spirits. The place of sacrifice would\nseem to be more often in the open air than in a cave, for Father Lambert\ntells us that in the centre of it a shrub, always of the same species,\nis planted and carefully cultivated. Beside it may be seen the pots and\nstones which are used in cooking the food offered to the dead. In this\nworship of the dead a certain differentiation of functions or division\nof labour obtains between the various families. All have not the same\ngifts and graces. The prayers of one family offered to their ancestral\nghosts are thought to be powerful in procuring rain in time of drought;\nthe prayers of another will cause the sun to break through the clouds\nwhen the sky is overcast; the supplications of a third will produce a\nfine crop of yams; the earnest entreaties of a fourth will ensure\nvictory in war; and the passionate pleadings of a fifth will guard\nmariners against the perils and dangers of the deep. And so on through\nthe whole gamut of human needs, so far as these are felt by savages. If\nonly wrestling in prayer could satisfy the wants of man, few people\nshould be better provided with all the necessaries and comforts of life\nthan the New Caledonians. And according to the special purpose to which\na family devotes its spiritual energies, so will commonly be the\nposition of its oratory. For example, if rain-making is their strong\npoint, their house of prayer will be established near a cultivated\nfield, in order that the crops may immediately experience the benefit to\nbe derived from their orisons. Again, if they enjoy a high reputation\nfor procuring a good catch of fish, the family skulls will be placed in\nthe mouth of a cave looking out over the great ocean, or perhaps on a\nbleak little wind-swept isle, where in the howl of the blast, the\nthunder of the waves on the strand, and the clangour of the gulls\noverhead, the fancy of the superstitious savage may hear the voices of\nhis dead forefathers keeping watch and ward over their children who are\ntossed on the heaving billows.[534] Thus among these fortunate islanders\nreligion and industry go hand in hand; piety has been reduced to a\nco-operative system which diffuses showers of blessings on the whole\ncommunity.\n\n[Sidenote: Prayer-posts.]\n\nAs it is clearly impossible even for the most devout to pray day and\nnight without cessation, the weakness of the flesh requiring certain\nintervals for refreshment and repose, the New Caledonians have devised\nan ingenious method of continuing their orisons at the shrine in their\nown absence. For this purpose they make rods or poles of various\nlengths, carve and paint them rudely, wind bandages of native cloth\nabout them, and having fastened large shells to the top, set them up\neither in the sepulchral caves or in the place of skulls. In setting up\none of these poles the native will pray for the particular favour which\nhe desires to obtain from the ancestors for himself or his family; and\nhe appears to think that in some way the pole will continue to recite\nthe prayer in the ears of the ghosts, when he himself has ceased to\nspeak and has returned to his customary avocations. And when members of\nhis family visit the shrine and see the pole, they will be reminded of\nthe particular benefit which they are entitled to expect from the souls\nof the departed. A certain rude symbolism may be traced in the materials\nand other particulars of these prayer-posts. A hard wood signifies\nstrength; a tall pole overtopping all the rest imports a wish that he\nfor whose sake it was erected may out-top all his rivals; and so\non.[535]\n\n[Sidenote: Religion combined with magic in the ritual of the New\nCaledonians. Sacred stones endowed with special magical virtues. The\n\"stone of famine.\"]\n\nWe may assume with some probability that in the mind of the natives such\nresemblances are not purely figurative or symbolic, but that they are\nalso magical in intention, being supposed not merely to represent the\nobject of the supplicant's prayer, but actually, on the principle of\nhomoeopathic or imitative magic, to contribute to its accomplishment. If\nthat is so, we must conclude that the religion of these savages, as\nmanifested in their prayers to the spirits of the dead, is tinctured\nwith an alloy of magic; they do not trust entirely to the compassion of\nthe spirits and their power to help them; they seek to reinforce their\nprayers by a certain physical compulsion acting through the natural\nproperties of the prayer-posts. This interpretation is confirmed by a\nparallel use which these people make of certain sacred stones, which\napart from their possible character as representatives of the ancestors,\nseem to be credited with independent magical virtues by reason of their\nvarious shapes and appearances. For example, there is a piece of\npolished jade which is called \"the stone of famine,\" because it is\nsupposed capable of causing either dearth or abundance, but is oftener\nused by the sorcerer to create, or at least to threaten, dearth, in\norder thereby to extort presents from his alarmed fellow tribesmen. This\nstone is kept in a burial-ground and derives its potency from the dead.\nThe worshipper or the sorcerer (for he combines the two characters) who\ndesires to cause a famine repairs to the burial-ground, uncovers the\nstone, rubs it with certain plants, and smears one half of it with black\npigment. Then he makes a small hole in the ground and inserts the\nblackened end of the stone in the hole. Next he prays to the ancestors\nthat nothing may go well with the country. If this malevolent rite\nshould be followed by the desired effect, the sorcerer soon sees\nmessengers arriving laden with presents, who entreat him to stay the\nfamine. If his cupidity is satisfied, he rubs the stone again, inserts\nit upside down in the ground, and prays to his ancestors to restore\nplenty to the land.[536]\n\n[Sidenote: Stones to drive people mad.]\n\nAgain, certain rough unhewn stones, which are kept in the sacred places,\nare thought to possess the power of driving people mad. To effect this\npurpose the sorcerer has only to strike one of them with the branches of\na certain tree and to pray to the ancestral spirits that they would\ndeprive so-and-so of his senses.[537]\n\n[Sidenote: Stones to blight coco-nut palms. Stones to make bread-fruit\ntrees bear fruit.]\n\nAgain, there is a stone which they use in cursing a plantation of\ncoco-nut palms. The stone resembles a blighted coco-nut, and no doubt it\nis this resemblance which is supposed to endow it with the magical power\nto blight coco-nut trees. In order to effect his malicious purpose the\nsorcerer rubs the stone in the cemetery with certain leaves and then\ndeposits it in a hole at the foot of a coco-nut tree, covers it up, and\nprays that all the trees of the plantation may be barren. This ceremony\ncombines the elements of magic and religion. The prayer, which is no\ndoubt addressed to the spirits of the dead, though this is not expressly\naffirmed, is purely religious; but the employment of a stone resembling\na blighted coco-nut for the purpose of blighting the coco-nut palms is a\nsimple piece of homoeopathic or imitative magic, in which, as usual, the\ndesired effect is supposed to be produced by an imitation of it.\nSimilarly, in order to make a bread-fruit tree bear fruit they employ\ntwo stones, one of which resembles the unripe and the other the ripe\nfruit. These are kept, as usual, in a cemetery; and when the trees begin\nto put forth fruit, the small stone resembling the unripe fruit is\nburied at the foot of one of the trees with the customary prayers and\nceremonies; and when the fruits are more mature the small stone is\nreplaced by the larger stone which resembles the ripe fruit. Then, when\nthe fruits on the tree are quite ripe, the two stones are removed and\ndeposited again in the cemetery: they have done their work by bringing\nto maturity the fruits which they resemble. This again is a piece of\npure homoeopathic or imitative magic working by means of mimicry; but\nthe magical virtue of the stones is reinforced by the spiritual power of\nthe dead, for the stones have been kept in a cemetery and prayers have\nbeen addressed to the souls of the departed.[538]\n\n[Sidenote: The \"stone of the sun.\"]\n\nAgain, the natives have two disc-shaped stones, each with a hole in the\ncentre, which together make up what they call \"the stone of the sun.\" No\ndoubt it is regarded as a symbol of the sun, and as such it is employed\nto cause drought in a ceremony which, like the preceding, combines the\nelements of magic and religion. The sun-stone is kept in one of the\nsacred places, and when a sorcerer wishes to make drought with it, he\nbrings offerings to the ancestral spirits in the sacred place. These\nofferings are purely religious, but the rest of the ceremony is purely\nmagical. At the moment when the sun rises from the sea, the magician or\npriest, whichever we choose to call him (for he combines both\ncharacters), passes a burning brand in and out of the hole in the\nsun-stone, while he says, \"I kindle the sun, in order that he may eat up\nthe clouds and dry up our land, so that it shall no longer bear fruit.\"\nHere the putting of fire to the sun-stone is a piece of pure\nhomoeopathic or imitative magic, designed to increase the burning heat\nof the sun by mimicry.[539]\n\n[Sidenote: Stones to make rain.]\n\nOn the contrary, when a wizard desires to make rain, he proceeds as\nfollows. The place of sacrifice is decorated and enclosed with a fence,\nand a large quantity of provisions is deposited in it to be offered to\nthe ancestors whose skulls stand there in a row. Opposite the skulls the\nwizard places a row of pots full of a medicated water, and he brings a\nnumber of sacred stones of a rounded form or shaped like a skull. Each\nof these stones, after being rubbed with the leaves of a certain tree,\nis placed in one of the pots of water. Then the wizard recites a long\nlitany or series of invocations to the ancestors, which may be\nsummarised thus: \"We pray you to help us, in order that our country may\nrevive and live anew.\" Then holding a branch in his hand he climbs a\ntree and scans the horizon if haply he may descry a cloud, be it no\nlarger than a man's hand. Should he be fortunate enough to see one, he\nwaves the branch to and fro to make the cloud mount up in the sky, while\nhe also stretches out his arms to right and left to enlarge it so that\nit may hide the sun and overcast the whole heaven.[540] Here again the\nprayers and offerings are purely religious; while the placing of the\nskull-shaped stones in pots full of water, and the waving of the branch\nto bring up the clouds, are magical ceremonies designed to produce rain\nby mimicry and compulsion.\n\n[Sidenote: Stones to make or mar sea-voyages.]\n\nAgain, the natives have a stone in the shape of a canoe, which they\nemploy in ceremonies for the purpose of favouring or hindering\nnavigation. If the sorcerer desires to make a voyage prosperous, he\nplaces the canoe-shaped stone before the ancestral skulls with the right\nside up; but if he wishes to cause his enemy to perish at sea, he places\nthe canoe-shaped stone bottom upwards before the skulls, which, on the\nprinciples of homoeopathic or imitative magic, must clearly make his\nenemy's canoe to capsize and precipitate its owner into the sea.\nWhichever of these ceremonies he performs, the wizard accompanies the\nmagical rite, as usual, with prayers and offerings of food to the\nancestral spirits who are represented by the skulls.[541]\n\n[Sidenote: Stones to help fishermen.]\n\nThe natives of the Isle of Pines subsist mainly by fishing; hence they\nnaturally have a large number of sacred stones which they use for the\npurpose of securing the blessing of the ancestral spirits on the\nbusiness of the fisherman. Indeed each species of fish has its own\nspecial sacred stone. These stones are kept in large shells in a\ncemetery. A wizard who desires to make use of one of them paints the\nstone with a variety of colours, chews certain leaves, and then breathes\non the stone and moistens it with his spittle. After that he sets up the\nstone before the ancestral skulls, saying, \"Help us, that we may be\nsuccessful in fishing.\" The sacrifices to the spirits consist of\nbananas, sugar-cane, and fish, never of taros or yams. After the fishing\nand the sacrificial meal, the stone is put back in its place, and\ncovered up respectfully.[542]\n\n[Sidenote: Stones to make yams grow.]\n\nLastly, the natives of the Isle of Pines cultivate many different kinds\nof yams, and they have a correspondingly large number of sacred stones\ndestined to aid them in the cultivation by ensuring the blessing of the\ndead upon the work. In shape and colour these stones differ from each\nother, each of them bearing a resemblance, real or fanciful, to the\nparticular species of yam which it is supposed to quicken. But the\nmethod of operating with them is much the same for all. The stone is\nplaced before the skulls, wetted with water, and wiped with certain\nleaves. Yams and fish, cooked on the spot, are offered in sacrifice to\nthe dead, the priest or magician saying, \"This is your offering in order\nthat the crop of yams may be good.\" So saying he presents the food to\nthe dead and himself eats a little of it. After that the stone is taken\naway and buried in the yam field which it is designed to fertilise.[543]\nHere, again, the prayer and sacrifice to the dead are purely religious\nrites intended to propitiate the spirits and secure their help; while\nthe burying of the yam-shaped stone in the yam-field to make the yams\ngrow is a simple piece of homoeopathic or imitative magic. Similarly in\norder to cultivate taros and bananas, stones resembling taros and\nbananas are buried in the taro field or the banana grove, and their\nmagical virtue is reinforced by prayers and offerings to the dead.[544]\n\n[Sidenote: The religion of the New Caledonians is mainly a worship of\nthe dead tinctured with magic.]\n\nOn the whole we may conclude that among the natives of New Caledonia\nthere exists a real worship of the dead, and that this worship is indeed\nthe principal element in their religion. The spirits of the dead, though\nthey are supposed to spend part of their time in a happy land far away\nunder the sea, are nevertheless believed to be near at hand, hovering\nabout in the burial-grounds or charnel-houses and embodied apparently in\ntheir skulls. To these spirits the native turns for help in all the\nimportant seasons and emergencies of life; he appeals to them in prayer\nand seeks to propitiate them by sacrifice. Thus in his attitude towards\nhis dead ancestors we perceive the elements of a real religion. But, as\nI have just pointed out, many rites of this worship of ancestors are\naccompanied by magical ceremonies. The religion of these islanders is in\nfact deeply tinged with magic; it marks a transition from an age of pure\nmagic in the past to an age of more or less pure religion in the future.\n\n[Sidenote: Evidence as to the religion of the New Caledonians furnished\nby Dr. G. Turner.]\n\nThus far I have based my account of the beliefs and customs of the New\nCaledonians concerning the dead on the valuable information which we owe\nto the Catholic missionary Father Lambert. But, as I pointed out, his\nevidence refers not so much to the natives of the mainland as to the\ninhabitants of certain small islands at the two extremities of the great\nisland. It may be well, therefore, to supplement his description by some\nnotes which a distinguished Protestant missionary, the Rev. Dr. George\nTurner, obtained in the year 1845 from two native teachers, one a Samoan\nand the other a Rarotongan, who lived in the south-south-eastern part of\nNew Caledonia for three years.[545] Their evidence, it will be observed,\ngoes to confirm Father Lambert's view as to the general similarity of\nthe religious beliefs and customs prevailing throughout the island.\n\n[Sidenote: Material culture of the New Caledonians.]\n\nThe natives of this part of New Caledonia were divided into separate\ndistricts, each with its own name, and war, perpetual war, was the rule\nbetween the neighbouring communities. They cultivated taro, yams,\ncoco-nuts, and sugar-cane; but they had no intoxicating _kava_ and kept\nno pigs. They cooked their food in earthenware pots manufactured by the\nwomen. In former days their only edge-tools were made of stone, and they\nfelled trees by a slow fire smouldering close to the ground. Similarly\nthey hollowed out the fallen trees by means of a slow fire to make their\ncanoes. Their villages were not permanent. They migrated within certain\nbounds, as they planted. A village might comprise as many as fifty or\nsixty round houses. The chiefs had absolute power of life and death.\nPriests did not meddle in political affairs.[546]\n\n[Sidenote: Burial customs; preservation of the skulls and teeth.]\n\nAt death they dressed the corpse with a belt and shell armlets, cut off\nthe nails of the fingers and toes, and kept them as relics. They spread\nthe grave with a mat, and buried all the body but the head. After ten\ndays the friends twisted off the head, extracted the teeth to be kept as\nrelics, and preserved the skull also. In cases of sickness and other\ncalamities they presented offerings of food to the skulls of the dead.\nThe teeth of the old women were taken to the yam plantations and were\nsupposed to fertilise them; and their skulls were set up on poles in the\nplantations for the same purpose. When they buried a chief, they erected\nspears at his head, fastened a spear-thrower to his forefinger, and laid\na club on the top of his grave,[547] no doubt for the convenience of the\nghost.\n\n[Sidenote: Prayers to ancestors.]\n\n\"Their gods,\" we are told, \"were their ancestors, whose relics they kept\nup and idolised. At one place they had wooden idols before the chiefs'\nhouses. The office of the priest was hereditary. Almost every family had\nits priest. To make sure of favours and prosperity they prayed not only\nto their own gods, but also, in a general way, to the gods of other\nlands. Fishing, planting, house-building, and everything of importance\nwas preceded by prayers to their guardian spirits for success. This was\nespecially the case before going to battle. They prayed to one for the\neye, that they might see the spear as it flew towards them. To another\nfor the ear, that they might hear the approach of the enemy. Thus, too,\nthey prayed for the feet, that they might be swift in pursuing the\nenemy; for the heart, that they might be courageous; for the body, that\nthey might not be speared; for the head, that it might not be clubbed;\nand for sleep, that it might be undisturbed by an attack of the enemy.\nPrayers over, arms ready, and equipped with their relic charms, they\nwent off to battle.\"[548]\n\n[Sidenote: \"Grand concert of spirits.\"]\n\nThe spirits of the dead were believed to go away into the forest. Every\nfifth month they had a \"spirit night\" or \"grand concert of spirits.\"\nHeaps of food were prepared for the occasion. The people assembled in\nthe afternoon round a certain cave. At sundown they feasted, and then\none stood up and addressed the spirits in the cave, saying, \"You spirits\nwithin, may it please you to sing a song, that all the women and men out\nhere may listen to your sweet voices.\" Thereupon a strange unearthly\nconcert of voices burst on their ears from the cave, the nasal squeak of\nold men and women forming the dominant note. But the hearers outside\nlistened with delight to the melody, praised the sweet voices of the\nsingers, and then got up and danced to the music. The singing swelled\nlouder and louder as the dance grew faster and more furious, till the\nconcert closed in a nocturnal orgy of unbridled license, which, but for\nthe absence of intoxicants, might compare with the worst of the ancient\nbacchanalia. The singers in the cave were the old men and women who had\nensconced themselves in it secretly during the day; but the hoax was not\nsuspected by the children and young people, who firmly believed that the\nspirits of the dead really assembled that night in the cavern and\nassisted at the sports and diversions of the living.[549]\n\n[Sidenote: Making rain by means of the bones of the dead.]\n\nThe souls of the departed also kindly bore a hand in the making of rain.\nIn order to secure their co-operation for this beneficent purpose the\nhuman rain-maker proceeded as follows. He blackened himself all over,\nexhumed a dead body, carried the bones to a cave, jointed them, and\nsuspended the skeleton over some taro leaves. After that he poured water\non the skeleton so that it ran down and fell on the leaves underneath.\nThey imagined that the soul of the deceased took up the water, converted\nit into rain, and then caused it to descend in refreshing showers. But\nthe rain-maker had to stay in the cavern fasting till his efforts were\ncrowned with success, and when the ghost was tardy in executing his\ncommission, the rain-maker sometimes died of hunger. As a rule, however,\nthey chose the showery months of March and April for the operation of\nrain-making, so that the wizard ran little risk of perishing a martyr to\nthe cause of science. When there was too much rain, and they wanted fine\nweather, the magician procured it by a similar process, except that\ninstead of drenching the skeleton with water he lit a fire under it and\nburned it up,[550] which naturally induced or compelled the ghost to\nburn up the clouds and let the sun shine out.\n\n[Sidenote: Execution of maleficent sorcerers. Reincarnation of the dead\nin white people.]\n\nAnother class of magicians were the maleficent sorcerers who caused\npeople to fall ill and die by burning their personal rubbish. When one\nof these rascals was convicted of repeated offences of that sort, he was\nformally tried and condemned. The people assembled and a great festival\nwas held. The condemned man was decked with a garland of red flowers;\nhis arms and legs were covered with flowers and shells, and his face and\nbody painted black. Thus arrayed he came dashing forward, rushed through\nthe people, plunged from the rocks into the sea, and was seen no more.\nThe natives also ascribed sickness to the arts of white men, whom they\nidentified with the spirits of the dead; and assigned this belief as a\nreason for their wish to kill the strangers.[551]\n\n[Footnote 517: F. H. H. Guillemard, _Australasia_, II. _Malaysia and the\nPacific Archipelagoes_ (London, 1894), p. 458.]\n\n[Footnote 518: J. Deniker, _The Races of Man_ (London, 1900), pp. 498\n_sq._ As to the mediums of exchange, particularly the shell-money, see\nR. H. Codrington, _The Melanesians_ (Oxford, 1891), pp. 323 _sqq._; R.\nParkinson, _Dreissig Jaehre in der Suedsee_ (Stuttgart, 1907), pp. 82\n_sqq._]\n\n[Footnote 519: Le Pere Lambert, _Moeurs et Superstitions des\nNeo-Caledoniens_ (Noumea, 1900). This work originally appeared as a\nseries of articles in the Catholic missionary journal _Les Missions\nCatholiques_.]\n\n[Footnote 520: Lambert, _Moeurs et Superstitions des Neo-Caledoniens_,\npp. ii., iv. _sq._; 255.]\n\n[Footnote 521: George Turner, LL.D., _Samoa a Hundred Years Ago and long\nbefore_ (London, 1884), pp. 340 _sqq._]\n\n[Footnote 522: Lambert, _op. cit._ pp. 13-16.]\n\n[Footnote 523: Lambert, _op. cit._ pp. 235-239.]\n\n[Footnote 524: Lambert, _op. cit._ pp. 238, 239 _sq._]\n\n[Footnote 525: Above, pp. 136 _sq._, 235 _sq._]\n\n[Footnote 526: Lambert, _op. cit._ pp. 24, 240.]\n\n[Footnote 527: Lambert, _op. cit._ p. 274.]\n\n[Footnote 528: Lambert, _op. cit._ pp. 24, 26.]\n\n[Footnote 529: Lambert, _op. cit._ p. 211.]\n\n[Footnote 530: Lambert, _op. cit._ p. 218.]\n\n[Footnote 531: Lambert, _op. cit._ pp. 224 _sq._]\n\n[Footnote 532: Lambert, _op. cit._ pp. 275 _sqq._]\n\n[Footnote 533: Lambert, _op. cit._ p. 276.]\n\n[Footnote 534: Lambert, _op. cit._ pp. 288 _sq._]\n\n[Footnote 535: Lambert, _op. cit._ pp. 290, 292.]\n\n[Footnote 536: Lambert, _op. cit._ pp. 292 _sq._]\n\n[Footnote 537: Lambert, _op. cit._ pp. 293 _sq._]\n\n[Footnote 538: Lambert, _op. cit._ p. 294.]\n\n[Footnote 539: Lambert, _op. cit._ pp. 296 _sq._]\n\n[Footnote 540: Lambert, _op. cit._ pp. 297 _sq._]\n\n[Footnote 541: Lambert, _op. cit._ p. 298.]\n\n[Footnote 542: Lambert, _op. cit._ p. 300.]\n\n[Footnote 543: Lambert, _op. cit._ pp. 301 _sq._]\n\n[Footnote 544: Lambert, _op. cit._ pp. 217 _sq._, 300.]\n\n[Footnote 545: George Turner, LL.D., _Samoa a Hundred Years Ago and long\nbefore_ (London, 1884), pp. 340 _sqq._]\n\n[Footnote 546: G. Turner, _op. cit._ pp. 340, 341, 343, 344.]\n\n[Footnote 547: G. Turner, _op. cit._ pp. 342 _sq._]\n\n[Footnote 548: G. Turner, _op. cit._ p. 345.]\n\n[Footnote 549: G. Turner, _op. cit._ pp. 346 _sq._]\n\n[Footnote 550: G. Turner, _op. cit._ pp. 345 _sq._]\n\n[Footnote 551: G. Turner, _op. cit._ p. 342.]\n\n\n\n\nLECTURE XVI\n\nTHE BELIEF IN IMMORTALITY AMONG THE NATIVES OF CENTRAL MELANESIA\n\n\n[Sidenote: The islands of Central Melanesia. Distinction between the\nreligion of the Eastern and Western Islanders.]\n\nIn our survey of savage beliefs and practices concerning the dead we now\npass from New Caledonia, the most southerly island of Melanesia, to the\ngroups of islands known as the New Hebrides, the Banks' Islands, the\nTorres Islands, the Santa Cruz Islands, and the Solomon Islands, which\ntogether constitute what we may call Central Melanesia. These groups of\nislands may themselves be distinguished into two archipelagoes, a\nwestern and an eastern, of which the Western comprises the Solomon\nIslands and the Eastern includes all the rest. Corresponding to this\ngeographical distinction there is a religious distinction; for while the\nreligion of the Western islanders (the Solomon Islanders) consists\nchiefly in a fear and worship of the ghosts of the dead, the religion of\nthe Eastern islanders is characterised mainly by the fear and worship of\nspirits which are not supposed ever to have been incarnate in human\nbodies. Both groups of islanders, the Western and the Eastern, recognise\nindeed both classes of spirits, namely ghosts that once were men and\nspirits who never were men; but the religious bias of the one group is\ntowards ghosts rather than towards pure spirits, and the religious bias\nof the other group is towards pure spirits rather than towards ghosts.\nIt is not a little remarkable that the islanders whose bent is towards\nghosts have carried the system of sacrifice and the arts of life to a\nhigher level than the islanders whose bent is towards pure spirits; this\napplies particularly to the sacrificial system, which is much more\ndeveloped in the west than in the east.[552] From this it would seem to\nfollow that if a faith in ghosts is more costly than a faith in pure\nspirits, it is at the same time more favourable to the evolution of\nculture.\n\n[Sidenote: Dr. R. H. Codrington on the Melanesians.]\n\nFor the whole of this region we are fortunate in possessing the evidence\nof the Rev. Dr. R. H. Codrington, one of the most sagacious, cautious,\nand accurate of observers, who laboured as a missionary among the\nnatives for twenty-four years, from 1864 to 1887, and has given us a\nmost valuable account of their customs and beliefs in his book _The\nMelanesians_, which must always remain an anthropological classic. In\ndescribing the worship of the dead as it is carried on among these\nislanders I shall draw chiefly on the copious evidence supplied by Dr.\nCodrington; and I shall avail myself of his admirable researches to\nenter into considerable details on the subject, since details recorded\nby an accurate observer are far more instructive than the vague\ngeneralities of superficial observers, which are too often all the\ninformation we possess as to the religion of savages.\n\n[Sidenote: Melanesian theory of the soul.]\n\nIn the first place, all the Central Melanesians believe that man is\ncomposed of a body and a soul, that death is the final parting of the\nsoul from the body, and that after death the soul continues to exist as\na conscious and more or less active being.[553] Thus the creed of these\nsavages on this profound subject agrees fundamentally with the creed of\nthe average European; if my hearers were asked to state their beliefs as\nto the nature of life and death, I imagine that most of them would\nformulate them in substantially the same way. However, when the Central\nMelanesian savage attempts to define the nature of the vital principle\nor soul, which animates the body during life and survives it after\ndeath, he finds himself in a difficulty; and to continue the parallel I\ncannot help thinking that if my hearers in like manner were invited to\nexplain their conception of the soul, they would similarly find\nthemselves embarrassed for an answer. But an examination of the Central\nMelanesian theory of the soul would lead us too far from our immediate\nsubject; we must be content to say that, \"whatever word the Melanesian\npeople use for soul, they mean something essentially belonging to each\nman's nature which carries life to his body with it, and is the seat of\nthought and intelligence, exercising therefore power which is not of the\nbody and is invisible in its action.\"[554] However the soul may be\ndefined, the Melanesians are universally of opinion that it survives the\ndeath of the body and goes away to some more or less distant region,\nwhere the spirits of all the dead congregate and continue for the most\npart to live for an indefinite time, though some of them, as we shall\nsee presently, are supposed to die a second death and so to come to an\nend altogether. In Western Melanesia, that is, in the Solomon Islands,\nthe abode of the dead is supposed to be in certain islands, which differ\nin the creed of different islanders; but in Eastern Melanesia the abode\nof the dead is thought to be a subterranean region called Panoi.[555]\n\n[Sidenote: Distinction between ghosts of power and ghosts of no\naccount.]\n\nBut though the souls of the departed go away to the spirit land,\nnevertheless, with a seeming or perhaps real inconsistency, their ghosts\nare also supposed to haunt their graves and their old homes and to\nexercise great power for good or evil over the living, who are\naccordingly often obliged to woo their favour by prayer and sacrifice.\nAccording to the Solomon Islanders, however, among whom ghosts are the\nprincipal objects of worship, there is a great distinction to be drawn\namong ghosts. \"The distinction,\" says Dr. Codrington, \"is between ghosts\nof power and ghosts of no account, between those whose help is sought\nand their wrath deprecated, and those from whom nothing is expected and\nto whom no observance is due. Among living men there are some who stand\nout distinguished for capacity in affairs, success in life, valour in\nfighting, and influence over others; and these are so, it is believed,\nbecause of the supernatural and mysterious powers which they have, and\nwhich are derived from communication with those ghosts of the dead gone\nbefore them who are full of those same powers. On the death of a\ndistinguished man his ghost retains the powers that belonged to him in\nlife, in greater activity and with stronger force; his ghost therefore\nis powerful and worshipful, and so long as he is remembered the aid of\nhis powers is sought and worship is offered him; he is the _tindalo_ of\nFlorida, the _lio'a_ of Saa. In every society, again, the multitude is\ncomposed of insignificant persons, '_numerus fruges consumeri nati_,' of\nno particular account for valour, skill, or prosperity. The ghosts of\nsuch persons continue their insignificance, and are nobodies after death\nas before; they are ghosts because all men have souls, and the souls of\ndead men are ghosts; they are dreaded because all ghosts are awful, but\nthey get no worship and are soon only thought of as the crowd of the\nnameless population of the lower world.\"[556]\n\n[Sidenote: Ghosts of the great and of the recently dead are chiefly\nregarded. Supernatural power (_mana_) acquired through ghosts.]\n\nFrom this account of Dr. Codrington we see that it is only the ghosts of\ngreat and powerful people who are worshipped; the ghosts of ordinary\npeople are indeed feared, but no worship is paid to them. Further, we\nare told that it is the ghosts of those who have lately died that are\ndeemed to be most powerful and are therefore most regarded; as the dead\nare forgotten, their ghosts cease to be worshipped, their power fades\naway,[557] and their place in the religion of the people is taken by the\nghosts of the more recently departed. In fact here, as elsewhere, the\nexistence of the dead seems to be dependent on the memory of the living;\nwhen they are forgotten they cease to exist. Further, it deserves to be\nnoticed that in the Solomon Islands what we should call a man's natural\npowers and capacities are regarded as supernatural endowments acquired\nby communication with a mighty ghost. If a man is a great warrior, it is\nnot because he is strong of arm, quick of eye, and brave of heart; it is\nbecause he is supported by the ghost of a dead warrior, whose power he\nhas drawn to himself through an amulet of stone tied round his neck, or\na tuft of leaves in his belt, or a tooth attached to one of his fingers,\nor a spell by the recitation of which he can enlist the aid of the\nghost.[558] And similarly with all other pre-eminent capacities and\nvirtues; in the mind of the Solomon Islanders, they are all supernatural\ngifts and graces bestowed on men by ghosts. This all-pervading\nsupernatural power the Central Melanesian calls _mana_.[559] Thus for\nthese savages the whole world teems with ghostly influences; their minds\nare filled, we may almost say, obsessed, with a sense of the unseen\npowers which encompass and determine even in its minute particulars the\nlife of man on earth: in their view the visible world is, so to say,\nmerely a puppet-show of which the strings are pulled and the puppets\nmade to dance by hands invisible. Truly the attitude of these savages to\nthe universe is deeply religious.\n\nWe may now consider the theory and practice of the Central Melanesians\non this subject somewhat more in detail; and in doing so we shall begin\nwith their funeral customs, which throw much light on their views of\ndeath and the dead.\n\n[Sidenote: Burial customs in the Solomon Islands. Land burial and sea\nburial. Land-ghosts and sea-ghosts.]\n\nThus, for example, in Florida, one of the Solomon Islands, the corpse is\nusually buried. Common men are buried in their gardens or plantations,\nchiefs sometimes in the village, a chief's child sometimes in the house.\nIf the ghost of the deceased is worshipped, his grave becomes a\nsanctuary (_vunuhu_); the skull is often dug up and hung in the house.\nOn the return from the burial the mourners take a different road from\nthat by which they carried the corpse to the grave; this they do in\norder to throw the ghost off the scent and so prevent him from following\nthem home. This practice clearly shews the fear which the natives feel\nfor the ghosts of the newly dead. A man is buried with money, porpoise\nteeth, and some of his personal ornaments; but, avarice getting the\nbetter of superstition, these things are often secretly dug up again and\nappropriated by the living. Sometimes a dying man will express a wish to\nbe cast into the sea; his friends will therefore paddle out with the\ncorpse, tie stones to the feet, and sink it in the depths. In the island\nof Savo, another of the Solomon Islands, common men are generally thrown\ninto the sea and only great men are buried.[560] The same distinction is\nmade at Wango in San Cristoval, another of the same group of islands;\nthere also the bodies of common folk are cast into the sea, but men of\nconsequence are buried, and some relic of them, it may be a skull, a\ntooth, or a finger-bone, is preserved in a shrine at the village. From\nthis difference in burial customs flows a not unimportant religious\ndifference. The souls of the great people who are buried on land turn\ninto land-ghosts, and the souls of commoners who are sunk in the sea\nturn into sea-ghosts. The land-ghosts are seen to hover about the\nvillages, haunting their graves and their relics; they are also heard to\nspeak in hollow whispers. Their aid can be obtained by such as know\nthem. The sea-ghosts have taken a great hold on the imagination of the\nnatives of the south-eastern Solomon Islands; and as these people love\nto illustrate their life by sculpture and painting, they shew us clearly\nwhat they suppose these sea-ghosts to be like. At Wango there used to be\na canoe-house full of sculptures and paintings illustrative of native\nlife; amongst others there was a series of scenes like those which are\ndepicted on the walls of Egyptian tombs. One of the scenes represented a\ncanoe attacked by sea-ghosts, which were portrayed as demons compounded\npartly of human limbs, partly of the bodies and tails of fishes, and\narmed with spears and arrows in the form of long-bodied garfish and\nflying-fish. If a man falls ill on returning from a voyage or from\nfishing on the rocks, it is thought that one of these sea-ghosts has\nshot him. Hence when men are in danger at sea, they seek to propitiate\nthe ghosts by throwing areca-nuts and fragments of food into the water\nand by praying to the ghosts not to be angry with them. Sharks are also\nsupposed to be animated by the ghosts of the dead.[561] It is\ninteresting and instructive to find that in this part of the world\nsea-demons, who might be thought to be pure spirits of nature, are in\nfact ghosts of the dead.\n\n[Sidenote: Burnt offerings in honour of the dead.]\n\nIn the island of Florida, two days after the death of a chief or of any\nperson who was much esteemed, the relatives and friends assemble and\nhold a funeral feast, at which they throw a bit of food into the fire\nfor the ghost, saying, \"This is for you.\"[562] In other of the Solomon\nIslands morsels of food are similarly thrown on the fire at the\ndeath-feasts as the dead man's share.[563] Thus, in the Shortlands\nIslands, when a famous chief named Gorai died, his body was burnt and\nhis relatives cast food, beads, and other property into the fire. The\ndead chief had been very fond of tea, so one of his daughters threw a\ncup of tea into the flames. Women danced a funeral dance round the pyre\ntill the body was consumed.[564] Why should the dead man's food and\nproperty be burnt? No explanation of the practice is given by our\nauthorities, so we are left to conjecture the reason of it. Is it that\nby volatilising the solid substance of the food you make it more\naccessible to the thin unsubstantial nature of the ghost? Is it that you\ndestroy the property of the ghost lest he should come back in person to\nfetch it and so haunt and trouble the survivors? Is it that the spirits\nof the dead are supposed to reside in the fire on the hearth, so that\nofferings cast into the flames are transmitted to them directly? Whether\nit is with any such ideas that the Solomon Islanders throw food into the\nfire for ghosts, I cannot say. The whole question of the meaning of\nburnt sacrifice is still to a great extent obscure.\n\n[Sidenote: Funeral customs in the island of Florida. The ghostly ferry.]\n\nAt the funeral feast of a chief in the island of Florida the axes,\nspears, shield and other belongings of the deceased are hung up with\ngreat lamentations in his house; everything remains afterwards untouched\nand the house falls into ruins, which as time goes on are thickly\nmantled with the long tendrils of the sprouting yams. But we are told\nthat the weapons are not intended to accompany the ghost to the land of\nsouls; they are hung up only as a memorial of a great and valued man.\n\"With the same feeling they cut down a dead man's fruit-trees as a mark\nof respect and affection, not with any notion of these things serving\nhim in the world of ghosts; he ate of them, they say, when he was alive,\nhe will never eat again, and no one else shall have them.\" However, they\nthink that the ghost benefits by burial; for if a man is killed and his\nbody remains unburied, his restless ghost will haunt the place.[565] The\nghosts of such Florida people as have been duly buried depart to\nBetindalo, which seems to be situated in the south-eastern part of the\ngreat island of Guadalcanar. A ship waits to ferry them across the sea\nto the spirit-land. This is almost the only example of a ferry-boat used\nby ghosts in Melanesia. On their way to the ferry the ghosts may be\nheard twittering; and again on the shore, while they are waiting for the\nferry-boat, a sound of their dancing breaks the stillness of night; but\nno man can see the dancers. It is not until they land on the further\nshore that they know they are dead. There they are met by a ghost, who\nthrusts a rod into their noses to see whether the cartilage is pierced\nas it should be; ghosts whose noses have been duly bored in life follow\nthe onward path with ease, but all others have pain and difficulty in\nmaking their way to the realm of the shades. Yet though the souls of the\ndead thus depart to Betindalo, nevertheless their ghosts as usual not\nonly haunt their burial-places, but come to the sacrifices offered to\nthem and may be heard disporting themselves at night, playing on pipes,\ndancing, and shouting.[566]\n\n[Sidenote: Belief of the Solomon Islanders that the souls of the dead\nlive in islands. The second death.]\n\nSimilarly at Bugotu in the island of Ysabel (one of the Solomon Islands)\nthe ghosts of the dead are supposed to go away to an island, and yet to\nhaunt their graves and shew themselves to the survivors by night. In the\nisland of the dead there is a pool with a narrow tree-trunk lying across\nit. Here is stationed Bolafagina, the ghostly lord of the place. Every\nnewly arrived ghost must appear before him, and he examines their hands\nto see whether they bear the mark of the sacred frigate-bird cut on\nthem; if they have the mark, the ghosts pass across the tree-trunk and\nmingle with the departed spirits in the world of the dead. But ghosts\nwho have not the mark on their hands are cast into the gulf and perish\nout of their ghostly life: this is the second death.[567] The same\nnotion of a second death meets us in a somewhat different form among the\nnatives of Saa in Malanta, another of the Solomon Islands. All the\nghosts of these people swim across the sea to two little islands called\nMarapa, which lie off Marau in Guadalcanar. There the ghosts of children\nlive in one island and the ghosts of grown-up people in another; for the\nolder people would be plagued by the chatter of children if they all\ndwelt together in one island. Yet in other respects the life of the\ndeparted spirits in these islands is very like life on earth. There are\nhouses, gardens, and canoes there just as here, but all is thin and\nunsubstantial. Living men who land in the islands see nothing of these\nthings; there is a pool where they hear laughter and merry cries, and\nwhere the banks are wet with invisible bathers. But the life of the\nghosts in these islands is not eternal. The spirits of common folk soon\nturn into the nests of white ants, which serve as food for the more\nrobust ghosts. Hence a living man will say to his idle son, \"When I die,\nI shall have ants' nests to eat, but then what will you have?\" The\nghosts of persons who were powerful on earth last much longer. So long\nas they are remembered and worshipped by the living, their natural\nstrength remains unabated; but when men forget them, and turn to worship\nsome of the more recent dead, then no more food is offered to them in\nsacrifice, so they pine away and change into white ants' nests just like\ncommon folk. This is the second death. However, while the ghosts survive\nthey can return from the islands to Saa and revisit their village and\nfriends. The living can even discern them in the form of dim and\nfleeting shadows. A man who wishes for any reason to see a ghost can\nalways do so very simply by taking a pinch of lime from his betel-box\nand smearing it on his forehead. Then the ghost appears to him quite\nplainly.[568]\n\n[Sidenote: Burial customs in Saa. Preservation of the skull and jawbone.\nBurial customs in Santa Cruz. Burial customs in Ysabel.]\n\nIn Saa the dead are usually buried in a common cemetery; but when the\nflesh has decayed the bones are taken up and heaped on one side. But if\nthe deceased was a very great man or a beloved father, his body is\npreserved for a time in his son's house, being hung up either in a canoe\nor in the carved effigy of a sword-fish. Very favourite children are\ntreated in the same way. The corpse may be kept in this way for years.\nFinally, there is a great funeral feast, at which the remains are\nremoved to the common burial-ground, but the skull and jawbone are\ndetached from the skeleton and kept in the house enclosed in the hollow\nwooden figure of a bonito-fish. By means of these relics the survivors\nthink that they can secure the aid of the powerful ghost. Sometimes the\ncorpse and afterwards the skull and jawbone are preserved, not in the\nhouse of the deceased, but in the _oha_ or public canoe-house, which so\nfar becomes a sort of shrine or temple of the dead.[569] At Santa Cruz\nin the Solomon Islands the corpse is buried in a very deep grave in the\nhouse. Inland they dig up the bones again to make arrow-heads; also they\ndetach the skull and keep it in a chest in the house, saying that it is\nthe man himself. They even set food before the skull, no doubt for the\nuse of the ghost. Yet they imagine that the ghosts of the dead go to the\ngreat volcano Tamami, where they are burnt in the crater and thus being\nrenewed stay in the fiery region. Nevertheless the souls of the dead\nalso haunt the forests in Santa Cruz; on wet and dark nights the natives\nsee them twinkling in the gloom like fire-flies, and at the sight they\nare sore afraid.[570] So little consistent with itself is the creed of\nthese islanders touching the state of the dead. At Bugotu in the island\nof Ysabel (one of the Solomon Islands) a chief is buried with his head\nnear the surface and a fire is kept burning over the grave, in order\nthat the skull may be taken up and preserved in the house of his\nsuccessor. The spirit of the dead chief has now become a worshipful\nghost, and an expedition is sent out to cut off and bring back human\nheads in his honour. Any person, not belonging to the place, whom the\nhead-hunters come across will be killed by them and his or her skull\nadded to the collection, which is neatly arranged on the shore. These\nghastly trophies are believed to add fresh spiritual power (_mana_) to\nthe ghost of the dead chief. Till they have been procured, the people of\nthe place take care not to move about. The grave of the chief is built\nup with stones and sacrifices are offered upon it.[571]\n\n[Sidenote: Beliefs and customs of the Eastern islanders concerning the\ndead. Panoi, the subterranean abode of the dead.]\n\nThus far we have been considering the beliefs and practices concerning\nthe dead which prevail among the Western Melanesians of the Solomon\nIslands and Santa Cruz. We now turn to those of the Eastern Melanesians,\nwho inhabit the Torres Islands, the Banks' Islands, and the New\nHebrides. A broad distinction exists between the ghosts of these two\nregions in as much as the ghosts of the Western Melanesians all live in\nislands, but the ghosts of all Eastern Melanesians live underground in a\nsubterranean region which commonly bears the name of Panoi. The exact\nposition of Panoi has not been ascertained; all that is regarded as\ncertain is that it is underground. However, there are many entrances to\nit and some of them are well known. One of them, for example, is a rock\non the mountain at Mota, others are at volcanic vents which belch flames\non the burning hill of Garat over the lake at Gaua, and another is on\nthe great mountain of Vanua Lava. The ghosts congregate on points of\nland before their departure, as well as at the entrances to the\nunderworld, and there on moonlight nights you may hear the ghostly crew\ndancing, singing, shouting, and whistling on the claws of land-crabs. It\nis not easy to extract from the natives a precise and consistent account\nof the place of the dead and the state of the spirits in it; nor indeed,\nas Dr. Codrington justly observes, would it be reasonable to expect full\nand precise details on a subject about which the sources of information\nare perhaps not above suspicion. However, as far as can be made out,\nPanoi or the abode of the dead is on the whole a happy region. In many\nrespects it resembles the land of the living; for there are houses there\nand villages, and trees with red leaves, and day and night. Yet all is\nhollow and unreal. The ghosts do nothing but talk and sing and dance;\nthere is no clubhouse there, and though men and women live together,\nthere is no marrying or giving in marriage. All is very peaceful, too,\nin that land; for there is no war and no tyrant to oppress the people.\nYet the ghost of a great man goes down like a great man among the\nghosts, resplendent in all his trinkets and finery; but like everything\nelse in the underworld these ornaments, for all the brave show they\nmake, are mere unsubstantial shadows. The pigs which were killed at his\nfuneral feast and the food that was heaped on his grave cannot go down\nwith him into that far country; for none of these things, not even pigs,\nhave souls. How then could they find their way to the spirit world? It\nis clearly impossible. The ghosts in the nether world do not mix\nindiscriminately. There are separate compartments for such as died\nviolent deaths. There is one compartment for those who were shot, there\nis another for those who were clubbed, and there is another for those\nwho were done to death by witchcraft. The ghosts of those who were shot\nkeep rattling the reeds of the arrows which dealt them their fatal\nwounds. Ghosts in the nether world have no knowledge of things out of\ntheir sight and hearing; yet the living call upon them in time of need\nand trouble, as if they could hear and help. Life, too, in the kingdom\nof shadows is not eternal. The ghosts die the second death. Yet some say\nthat there are two such kingdoms, each called Panoi, the one over the\nother; and that when the dead die the second death in the upper realm\nthey rise again from the dead in the nether realm, where they never die\nbut only turn into white ants' nests.[572]\n\n[Sidenote: Distinction between the fate of the good and the fate of the\nbad in the other world.]\n\nIt is interesting and not unimportant to observe that some of these\nislanders make a distinction between the fate of good people and the\nfate of bad people after death. The natives of Motlav, one of the Banks'\nIslands, think that Panoi is a good place and that only the souls of the\ngood can enter it. According to them the souls of murderers, sorcerers,\nthieves, liars, and adulterers are not suffered to enter the happy land.\nThe ghost of a murderer, for example, is met at the entrance by the\nghost of his victim, who withstands him and turns him back. All the bad\nghosts go away to a bad place, where they live, not indeed in physical\npain, but in misery: they quarrel, they are restless, homeless,\npitiable, malignant: they wander back to earth: they eat the foulest\nfood, their breath is noisome: they harm the living out of spite, they\neat men's souls, they haunt graves and woods. But in the true Panoi the\nsouls of the good live in peace and harmony.[573] Thus these people\nbelieve that the state of the soul after death depends on the kind of\nlife a man led on earth; if he was good, he will be happy; if he was\nbad, he will be miserable. If this creed is of purely native origin, and\nDr. Codrington seems to entertain no doubt that it is so, it marks a\nconsiderable ethical advance among those who accept it.\n\n[Sidenote: Descent of the living to the world of the dead.]\n\nThe Eastern Melanesians think that living people can go down to the land\nof the dead and return alive to the upper world. Sometimes they do this\nin the body, but at other times only in the spirit, when they are asleep\nor in a faint; for at such times their souls quit their bodies and can\nwander away down to Panoi. When the living thus make their way to the\nspirit land, they are sometimes cautioned by friendly ghosts to eat\nnothing there, no doubt lest by partaking of ghostly food they should be\nturned to ghosts and never return to the land of the living.[574]\n\n[Sidenote: Disposal of the dead among the Eastern islanders. Burial\ncustoms of the Banks' Islanders.]\n\nWe will now consider the various modes in which the Eastern Melanesians\ndispose of their dead; for funeral customs commonly furnish some\nindication of the ideas which a people entertain as to the state of the\nsoul after death. The Banks' Islanders generally buried their dead in\nthe forest not far from the village; but if the deceased was a great man\nor died a remarkable death, they might inter him in the village near the\nmen's clubhouse (_gamal_). A favourite son or child might be buried in\nthe house itself; but in such cases the grave would be opened after\nfifty or a hundred days and the bones taken up and hidden in the forest,\nthough some of them might be hung up in the house. However, in some\nplaces there was, and indeed still is, a custom of keeping the\nputrefying corpse unburied in the house as a mark of affection. At Gaua,\nin Santa Maria, the body was dried over slow fires for ten days or more,\ntill nothing but skin and bones remained; and the women who watched over\nit during these days drank the juices of putrefaction which dripped from\nthe decaying flesh. The same thing used formerly to be done in Mota,\nanother of the Banks' Islands. The corpses of great men in these islands\nwere adorned in all their finery and laid out on the open space in the\nmiddle of the village. Here bunches of coco-nuts, yams, and other food\nwere heaped up beside the body; and an orator of fluent speech addressed\nthe ghost telling him that when he had gone down to Panoi, the spirit\nland, and the ghosts asked him after his rank, he was to give them a\nlist of all the things heaped beside his dead body; then the ghosts\nwould know what a great man he was and would treat him with proper\ndeference. The orator dealt very candidly with the moral character of\nthe deceased. If he had been a bad man, the speaker would say, \"Poor\nghost, will you be able to enter Panoi? I think not.\" The food which is\npiled up beside the body while the orator is pronouncing the eulogium or\nthe censure of the departed is afterwards heaped up on the grave or\nburied in it. At Gaua they kill pigs and hang up the carcases or parts\nof them at the grave. The object of all this display is to make a\nfavourable impression on the ghosts in the spirit land, in order that\nthey may give the newly deceased man a good reception. When the departed\nwas an eminent warrior or sorcerer, his friends will sometimes give him\na sham burial and hide his real grave, lest people should dig up his\nbones and his skull to make magic with them; for the relics of such a\nman are naturally endowed with great magical virtue.[575]\n\n[Sidenote: Ghosts driven away from the village. Expulsion of the ghosts\nof persons who suffered from sores and ulcers.]\n\nIn these islands the ghost does not at once leave the neighbourhood of\nhis old body; he shews no haste to depart to the nether world. Indeed he\ncommonly loiters about the house and the grave for five or ten days,\nmanifesting his presence by noises in the house and by lights upon the\ngrave. By the fifth day his relations generally think that they have had\nquite enough of him, and that it is high time he should set out for his\nlong home. Accordingly they drive him away with shouts and the blowing\nof conch-shells or the booming sound of bull-roarers.[576] At\nUreparapara the mode of expelling the ghost from the village is as\nfollows. Missiles to be hurled at the lingering spirit are collected in\nthe shape of small stones and pieces of bamboo, which have been charmed\nby wizards so as to possess a ghost-expelling virtue. The artillery\nhaving been thus provided, the people muster at one end of the village,\narmed with bags of enchanted stones and pieces of enchanted bamboos. The\nsignal to march is given by two men, who sit in the dead man's house,\none on either side, holding two white stones in their hands, which they\nclink together. At the sound of the clinking the women begin to wail and\nthe men to march; tramp, tramp they go like one man through the village\nfrom end to end, throwing stones into the houses and all about and\nbeating the bamboos together. Thus they drive the reluctant ghost step\nby step from the village into the forest, where they leave him to find\nhis own way down to the land of the dead. Till that time the widow of\nthe deceased was bound to remain on his bed without quitting it for a\nmoment except on necessity; and if she had to leave it for a few minutes\nshe always left a coco-nut on the bed to represent her till she came\nback. The reason for this was that her husband's ghost was believed to\nbe lingering in the house all these days, and he would naturally expect\nto see his wife in the nuptial chamber. At Motlav the people are not so\nhard upon the poor ghosts: they do not drive away all ghosts from their\nold homes, but only the ghosts of such as had in their lifetime the\nmisfortune to be afflicted with grievous sores and ulcers. The expulsion\nof such ghosts may therefore be regarded as a sanitary precaution\ndesigned to prevent the spirits from spreading the disease. When a man\nwho suffers severely from sores or ulcers lies dying, the people of his\nvillage, taking time by the forelock, send word to the inhabitants of\nthe next village westwards, warning them to be in readiness to give the\nghost a warm reception. For it is well known that at their departure\nfrom the body ghosts always go westward towards the setting sun. So when\nthe poor man is dead, they bury his diseased body in the village and\ndevote all their energies to the expulsion of his soul. By blowing\nblasts on shell-trumpets and beating the ground with the stalks of\ncoco-nut fronds they chase the ghost clean away from their own village\nand on to the next. The inhabitants of that village meantime are ready\nto receive their unwelcome visitor, and beating their bounds in the most\nliteral sense they soon drive him onwards to the land of their next\nneighbours. So the chase goes on from village to village, till the ghost\nhas been finally hunted into the sea at the point of the shore which\nfaces the setting sun. There at last the beaters throw away the stalks\nwhich have served to whack the ghost, and return home in the perfect\nassurance that he has left the island and gone to his own place down\nbelow, so that he cannot afflict anybody with the painful disease from\nwhich he suffered. But as for his ulcerated corpse rotting in the grave,\nthey do not give a thought to it. Their concern is with the spiritual\nand the unseen; they do not stoop to regard the material and\ncarnal.[577]\n\n[Sidenote: Special treatment of the ghosts of women who died in\nchildbed.]\n\nA special treatment is accorded to the ghosts of women who died in\nchildbed. If the mother dies and the child lives, her ghost will not go\naway to the nether world without taking the infant with her. Hence in\norder to deceive the ghost, they wrap a piece of a banana-trunk loosely\nin leaves and lay it on the bosom of the dead mother when they lower her\ninto the grave. The ghost clasps the bundle to her breast, thinking it\nis her baby, and goes away contentedly to the spirit land. As she walks,\nthe banana-stalk slips about in the leaves and she imagines it is the\ninfant stirring; for she has not all her wits about her, ghosts being\nnaturally in a dazed state at first on quitting their familiar bodies.\nBut when she arrives in deadland and finds she has been deceived, and\nwhen perhaps some heartless ghosts even jeer at her wooden baby, back\nshe comes tearing to earth in grief and rage to seek and carry off the\nreal infant. However, the survivors know what to expect and have taken\nthe precaution of removing the child to another house where the mother\nwill never find it; but she keeps looking for it always, and a sad and\nangry ghost is she.[578]\n\n[Sidenote: Funeral feasts.]\n\nAfter the funeral follows a series, sometimes a long series, of funeral\nfeasts, which form indeed one of the principal institutions of these\nislands. The number of the feasts and the length of time during which\nthey are repeated vary much in the different islands, and depend also on\nthe consideration in which the deceased was held. The days on which the\nfeasts are celebrated are the fifth and the tenth after the death, and\nafterwards every tenth day up to the hundredth or even it may be, in the\ncase of a father, a mother, or a wife, up to the thousandth day. These\nfeasts appear now to be chiefly commemorative, but they also benefit the\ndead; for the ghost is naturally gratified by seeing that his friends\nremember him and do their duty by him so handsomely. At these banquets\nfood is put aside for the dead with the words \"This is for thee.\" The\npractice of thus setting aside food for the ghost at a series of funeral\nfeasts appears at first sight, as Dr. Codrington observes, inconsistent\nwith the theory that the ghosts live underground.[579] But the objection\nthus suggested is rather specious than real; for we must always bear in\nmind that, to judge from the accounts given of them in all countries,\nghosts experience no practical difficulty in obtaining temporary leave\nof absence from the other world and coming to this one, so to say, on\nfurlough for the purpose of paying a surprise visit to their sorrowing\nfriends and relations. The thing is so well known that it would be at\nonce superfluous and tedious to illustrate it at length; many examples\nhave incidentally met us in the course of these lectures.\n\n[Sidenote: Funeral customs in Vate or Efat. Old people buried alive.]\n\nThe natives of Vate or Efat, one of the New Hebrides, set up a great\nwailing at a death and scratched their faces till they streamed with\nblood. Bodies of the dead were buried. When a corpse was laid in the\ngrave, a pig was brought to the place and its head was chopped off and\nthrown into the grave to be buried with the body. This, we are told,\n\"was supposed to prevent disease spreading to other members of the\nfamily.\" Probably, in the opinion of the natives, the pig's head was a\nsop thrown to the ghost to keep him from coming and fetching away other\npeople to deadland. With the same intention, we may take it, they buried\nwith the dead the cups, pillows, and other things which he had used in\nhis lifetime. On the top of the grave they kindled a fire to enable the\nsoul of the deceased to rise to the sun. If that were not done, the soul\nwent to the wretched regions of Pakasia down below. The old were buried\nalive at their own request. It was even deemed a disgrace to the family\nof an aged chief if they did not bury him alive. When an old man felt\nsick and weak and thought that he was dying, he would tell his friends\nto get all ready and bury him. They yielded to his wishes, dug a deep\nround pit, wound a number of fine mats round his body, and lowered him\ninto the grave in a sitting posture. Live pigs were then brought to the\nbrink of the grave, and each of them was tethered by a cord to one of\nthe old man's arms. When the pigs had thus, as it were, been made over\nto him, the cords were cut, and the animals were led away to be killed,\nbaked, and eaten at the funeral feast; but the souls of the pigs the old\nman took away with him to the spirit land, and the more of them he took\nthe warmer and more gratifying was the reception he met with from the\nghosts. Having thus ensured his eternal welfare by the pig strings which\ndangled at his arms, the old man was ready; more mats were laid over\nhim, the earth was shovelled in, and his dying groans were drowned amid\nthe weeping and wailing of his affectionate kinsfolk.[580]\n\n[Sidenote: Burial and mourning customs in Aurora, one of the New\nHebrides. Behaviour of the soul at death.]\n\nAt Maewo in Aurora, one of the New Hebrides, when a death has taken\nplace, the body is buried in a grave near the village clubhouse. For a\nhundred days afterwards the female mourners may not go into the open and\ntheir faces may not be seen; they stay indoors and in the dark and cover\nthemselves with a large mat reaching to the ground. But the widow goes\nevery day, covered with her mat, to weep at the grave; this she does\nboth in the morning and in the afternoon. During this time of mourning\nthe next of kin may not eat certain succulent foods, such as yams,\nbananas, and caladium; they eat only the gigantic caladium, bread-fruit,\ncoco-nuts, mallows, and so forth; \"and all these they seek in the bush\nwhere they grow wild, not eating those which have been planted.\" They\ncount five days after the death and then build up great heaps of stones\nover the grave. After that, if the deceased was a very great man, who\nowned many gardens and pigs, they count fifty days and then kill pigs,\nand cut off the point of the liver of each pig; and the brother of the\ndeceased goes toward the forest and calls out the dead man's name,\ncrying, \"This is for you to eat.\" They think that if they do not kill\npigs for the benefit of their departed friend, his ghost has no proper\nexistence, but hangs miserably on tangled creepers. After the sacrifice\nthey all cry again, smear their bodies and faces all over with ashes,\nand wear cords round their necks for a hundred days in token that they\nare not eating good food.[581] They imagine that as soon as the soul\nquits the body at death, it mounts into a tree where there is a bird's\nnest fern, and sitting there among the fronds it laughs and mocks at the\npeople who are crying and making great lamentations over his deserted\ntabernacle. \"There he sits, wondering at them and ridiculing them. 'What\nare they crying for?' he says; 'whom are they sorry for? Here am I.' For\nthey think that the real thing is the soul, and that it has gone away\nfrom the body just as a man throws off his clothes and leaves them, and\nthe clothes lie by themselves with nothing in them.\"[582] This estimate\nof the comparative value of soul and body is translated from the words\nof a New Hebridean native; it singularly resembles that which is\nsometimes held up to our admiration as one of the finest fruits of\nphilosophy and religion. So narrow may be the line that divides the\nmeditations of the savage and the sage.\n\nWhen a Maewo ghost has done chuckling at the folly of his surviving\nrelatives, who sorrow as those who have no hope, he turns his back on\nhis old home and runs along the line of hills till he comes to a place\nwhere there are two rocks with a deep ravine between them. He leaps the\nchasm, and if he lands on the further side, he is dead indeed; but if he\nfalls short, he returns to life. At the land's end, where the mountains\ndescend into the sea, all the ghosts of the dead are gathered to meet\nhim. If in his lifetime he had slain any one by club or arrow, or done\nany man to death by magic, he must now run the gauntlet of the angry\nghosts of his victims, who beat and tear him and stab him with daggers\nsuch as people stick pigs with; and as they do so, they taunt him,\nsaying, \"While you were still in the world you thought yourself a\nvaliant man; but now we will take our revenge on you.\" At another point\nin the path there is a deep gully, where if a ghost falls he is\ninevitably dashed to pieces; and if he escapes this peril, there is a\nferocious pig waiting for him further on, which devours the ghosts of\nall persons who in their life on earth omitted to plant pandanus trees,\nfrom which mats are made. But the wise man, who planted pandanus\nbetimes, now reaps the fruit of his labours; for when the pig makes a\nrush at his departed spirit, the ghost nimbly swarms up the pandanus\ntree and so escapes his pursuer. That is why everybody in Maewo likes to\nplant pandanus trees. And if a man's ears were not pierced in his life,\nhis ghost will not be allowed to drink water; if he was not tattooed,\nhis ghost may not eat good food. A thoughtful father will provide for\nthe comfort of his children in the other world by building a miniature\nhouse for each of them in his garden when the child is a year old; if\nthe infant is a boy, he puts a bow, an arrow, and a club in the little\nhouse; if the child is a girl, he plants pandanus for her beside the\ntiny dwelling.[583]\n\n[Sidenote: Only ghosts of powerful men are worshipped.]\n\nSo much for the fate of common ghosts in Central Melanesia. We have now\nto consider the position of the more powerful spirits, who after death\nare believed to exercise great influence over the living, especially\nover their surviving relations, and who have accordingly to be\npropitiated with prayer and sacrifice. This worship of the dead, as we\nsaw, forms the principal feature in the religion of the Solomon\nIslanders. \"But it must not be supposed,\" says Dr. Codrington, \"that\nevery ghost becomes an object of worship. A man in danger may call upon\nhis father, his grandfather, or his uncle: his nearness of kin is\nsufficient ground for it. The ghost who is to be worshipped is the\nspirit of a man who in his lifetime had _mana_ [supernatural or magical\npower] in him; the souls of common men are the common herd of ghosts,\nnobodies alike before and after death. The supernatural power abiding in\nthe powerful living man abides in his ghost after death, with increased\nvigour and more ease of movement. After his death, therefore, it is\nexpected that he should begin to work, and some one will come forward\nand claim particular acquaintance with the ghost; if his power should\nshew itself, his position is assured as one worthy to be invoked, and to\nreceive offerings, till his cultus gives way before the rising\nimportance of one newly dead, and the sacred place where his shrine once\nstood and his relics were preserved is the only memorial of him that\nremains; if no proof of his activity appears, he sinks into oblivion at\nonce.\"[584]\n\n[Sidenote: Worship paid chiefly to the recent and well-remembered dead.]\n\nFrom this instructive account we learn that worship is paid chiefly to\nthe recent and well-remembered dead, to the men whom the worshippers\nknew personally and feared or respected in their lifetime. On the other\nhand, when men have been long dead, and all who knew them have also been\ngathered to their fathers, their memory fades away and with it their\nworship gradually falls into complete desuetude. Thus the spirits who\nreceive the homage of these savages were real men of flesh and blood,\nnot mythical beings conjured up by the fancy of their worshippers, which\nsome legerdemain of the mind has foisted into the shrine and encircled\nwith the halo of divinity. Not that the Melanesians do not also worship\nbeings who, so far as we can see, are purely mythical, though their\nworshippers firmly believe in their reality. But \"they themselves make a\nclear distinction between the existing, conscious, powerful disembodied\nspirits of the dead, and other spiritual beings that never have been men\nat all. It is true that the two orders of beings get confused in native\nlanguage and thought, but their confusion begins at one end and the\nconfusion of their visitors at another; they think so much and\nconstantly of ghosts that they speak of beings who were never men as\nghosts; Europeans take the spirits of the lately dead for gods; less\neducated Europeans call them roundly devils.\"[585]\n\n[Sidenote: Way in which a dead warrior came to be worshipped as a\nmartial ghost.]\n\nAs an example of the way in which the ghost of a real man who has just\ndied may come to be worshipped Dr. Codrington tells us the story of\nGanindo, which he had from Bishop Selwyn. This Ganindo was a great\nfighting man of Honggo in Florida, one of the Solomon Islands. He went\nwith other warriors on a head-hunting expedition against Gaeta; but\nbeing mortally wounded with an arrow near the collar-bone he was brought\nback by his comrades to the hill of Bonipari, where he died and was\nburied. His friends cut off his head, put it in a basket, built a house\nfor it, and said that he was a worshipful ghost (_tindalo_). Afterwards\nthey said, \"Let us go and take heads.\" So they embarked on their canoe\nand paddled away to seek the heads of enemies. When they came to quiet\nwater, they stopped paddling and waited till they felt the canoe rock\nunder them, and when they felt it they said, \"That is a ghost.\" To find\nout what particular ghost it was they called out the names of several,\nand when they came to the name of Ganindo, the canoe rocked again. So\nthey knew that it was he who was making the canoe to rock. In like\nmanner they learned what village they were to attack. Returning\nvictorious with the heads of the foe they threw a spear into the roof of\nGanindo's house, blew conch-shells, and danced round it, crying, \"Our\nghost is strong to kill!\" Then they sacrificed fish and other food to\nhim. Also they built him a new house, and made four images of him for\nthe four corners, one of Ganindo himself, two of his sisters, and\nanother. When it was all ready, eight men translated the relics to the\nnew shrine. One of them carried Ganindo's bones, another his betel-nuts,\nanother his lime-box, another his shell-trumpet. They all went into the\nshrine crouching down, as if burdened by a heavy weight, and singing in\nchorus, \"Hither, hither, let us lift the leg!\" At that the eight legs\nwent up together, and then they sang, \"Hither, hither!\" and at that the\neight legs went down together. In this solemn procession the relics were\nbrought and laid on a bamboo platform, and sacrifices to the new martial\nghost were inaugurated. Other warlike ghosts revered in Florida are\nknown not to have been natives of the island but famous warriors of the\nwestern isles, where supernatural power is believed to be stronger.[586]\n\n[Sidenote: Offerings to the dead.]\n\nThroughout the islands of Central Melanesia prayers and offerings are\neverywhere made to ghosts or spirits or to both. The simplest and\ncommonest sacrificial act is that of throwing a small portion of food to\nthe dead; this is probably a universal practice in Melanesia. A morsel\nof food ready to be eaten, for example of yam, a leaf of mallow, or a\nbit of betel-nut, is thrown aside; and where they drink kava, a libation\nis made of a few drops, as the share of departed friends or as a\nmemorial of them with which they will be pleased. At the same time the\nofferer may call out the name of some one who either died lately or is\nparticularly remembered at the time; or without the special mention of\nindividuals he may make the offering generally to the ghosts of former\nmembers of the community. To set food on a burial-place or before some\nmemorial image is a common practice, though in some places, as in Santa\nCruz, the offering is soon taken away and eaten by the living.[587]\n\n[Sidenote: Sacrificial ritual in the Solomon Islands.]\n\nIn the Solomon Islands the sacrificial ritual is more highly developed.\nIt may be described in the words of a native of San Cristoval. \"In my\ncountry,\" he wrote, \"they think that ghosts are many, very many indeed,\nsome very powerful, and some not. There is one who is principal in war;\nthis one is truly mighty and strong. When our people wish to fight with\nany other place, the chief men of the village and the sacrificers and\nthe old men, and the elder and younger men, assemble in the place sacred\nto this ghost; and his name is Harumae. When they are thus assembled to\nsacrifice, the chief sacrificer goes and takes a pig; and if it be not a\nbarrow pig they would not sacrifice it to that ghost, he would reject it\nand not eat of it. The pig is killed (it is strangled), not by the chief\nsacrificer, but by those whom he chooses to assist, near the sacred\nplace. Then they cut it up; they take great care of the blood lest it\nshould fall upon the ground; they bring a bowl and set the pig in it,\nand when they cut it up the blood runs down into it. When the cutting up\nis finished, the chief sacrificer takes a bit of flesh from the pig, and\nhe takes a cocoa-nut shell and dips up some of the blood. Then he takes\nthe blood and the bit of flesh and enters into the house (the shrine),\nand calls that ghost and says, 'Harumae! Chief in war! we sacrifice to\nyou with this pig, that you may help us to smite that place; and\nwhatsoever we shall carry away shall be your property, and we also will\nbe yours.' Then he burns the bit of flesh in a fire upon a stone, and\npours down the blood upon the fire. Then the fire blazes greatly upwards\nto the roof, and the house is full of the smell of pig, a sign that the\nghost has heard. But when the sacrificer went in he did not go boldly,\nbut with awe; and this is the sign of it; as he goes into the holy house\nhe puts away his bag, and washes his hands thoroughly, to shew that the\nghost shall not reject him with disgust.\" The pig was afterwards eaten.\nIt should be observed that this Harumae who received sacrifices as a\nmartial ghost, mighty in war, had not been dead many years when the\nforegoing account of the mode of sacrificing to him was written. The\nelder men remembered him alive, nor was he a great warrior, but a kind\nand generous man, believed to be plentifully endowed with supernatural\npower. His shrine was a small house in the village, where relics of him\nwere preserved.[588] Had the Melanesians been left to themselves, it\nseems possible that this Harumae might have developed into the war-god\nof San Cristoval, just as in Central Africa another man of flesh and\nblood is known to have developed into the war-god of Uganda.[589]\n\n[Footnote 552: R. H. Codrington, _The Melanesians_ (Oxford, 1891), pp.\n122, 123, 124, 180 _sq._]\n\n[Footnote 553: R. H. Codrington, _The Melanesians_ (Oxford, 1891), pp.\n247, 253.]\n\n[Footnote 554: R. H. Codrington, _op. cit._ p. 248.]\n\n[Footnote 555: R. H. Codrington, _op. cit._ pp. 255 _sqq_., 264 _sqq_.]\n\n[Footnote 556: R. H. Codrington, _op. cit._ 253 _sq_.]\n\n[Footnote 557: R. H. Codrington, _op. cit._ pp. 254, 258, 261; compare\n_id._, pp. 125, 130.]\n\n[Footnote 558: R. H. Codrington, _op. cit._ pp. 120, 254.]\n\n[Footnote 559: R. H. Codrington, _op. cit._ pp. 118 _sqq._]\n\n[Footnote 560: R. H. Codrington, _op. cit._ pp. 254 _sq._]\n\n[Footnote 561: R. H. Codrington, _op. cit._ pp. 258 _sq._]\n\n[Footnote 562: R. H. Codrington, _op. cit._ p. 255.]\n\n[Footnote 563: R. H. Codrington, _op. cit._ p. 259.]\n\n[Footnote 564: G. Brown, D.D., _Melanesians and Polynesians_ (London,\n1910), pp. 214, 217.]\n\n[Footnote 565: R. H. Codrington, _op. cit._ p. 255.]\n\n[Footnote 566: R. H. Codrington, _op. cit._ pp. 255 _sq._]\n\n[Footnote 567: R. H. Codrington, _op. cit._ pp. 256 _sq._]\n\n[Footnote 568: R. H. Codrington, _op. cit._ pp. 260 _sq._]\n\n[Footnote 569: R. H. Codrington, _op. cit._ pp. 261 _sq._]\n\n[Footnote 570: R. H. Codrington, _op. cit._ pp. 263 _sq._]\n\n[Footnote 571: R. H. Codrington, _op. cit._ p. 257.]\n\n[Footnote 572: R. H. Codrington, _op. cit._ pp. 264, 273 _sq._,\n275-277.]\n\n[Footnote 573: R. H. Codrington, _op. cit._ pp. 274 _sq._]\n\n[Footnote 574: R. H. Codrington, _op. cit._ pp. 266, 276, 277, 286.]\n\n[Footnote 575: R. H. Codrington, _The Melanesians_, pp. 267-270.]\n\n[Footnote 576: R. H. Codrington, _op. cit._ p. 269.]\n\n[Footnote 577: R. H. Codrington, _The Melanesians_, pp. 270 _sq._]\n\n[Footnote 578: R. H. Codrington, _The Melanesians_, p. 275.]\n\n[Footnote 579: R. H. Codrington, _The Melanesians_, pp. 271 _sq._]\n\n[Footnote 580: G. Turner, _Samoa a Hundred Years Ago and long before_\n(London, 1884), pp. 335 _sq._ This account is based on information\nfurnished by Sualo, a Samoan teacher, who lived for a long time on the\nisland. The statement that the fire kindled on the grave was intended\n\"to enable the soul of the departed to rise to the sun\" may be doubted;\nit may be a mere inference of Dr. Turner's Samoan informant. More\nprobably the fire was intended to warm the shivering ghost. I do not\nremember any other evidence that the souls of the Melanesian dead ascend\nto the sun; certainly it is much more usual for them to descend into the\nearth.]\n\n[Footnote 581: R. H. Codrington, _op. cit._ pp. 281 _sq._]\n\n[Footnote 582: R. H. Codrington, _op. cit._ pp. 278 _sq._]\n\n[Sidenote: Journey of the ghost to the other world.]\n\n[Footnote 583: R. H. Codrington, _op. cit._ pp. 279 _sq._]\n\n[Footnote 584: R. H. Codrington, _The Melanesians_, pp. 124 _sq._]\n\n[Footnote 585: R. H. Codrington, _The Melanesians_, p. 121.]\n\n[Footnote 586: R. H. Codrington, _The Melanesians_, pp. 125 _sqq._]\n\n[Footnote 587: R. H. Codrington, _The Melanesians_, pp. 127, 128.]\n\n[Footnote 588: R. H. Codrington, _The Melanesians_, pp. 129 _sq._]\n\n[Footnote 589: Rev. J. Roscoe, \"Kibuka, the War God of the Baganda,\"\n_Man_, vii. (1907) pp. 161-166; _id._, _The Baganda_ (London, 1911), pp.\n301 _sqq._ The history of this African war-god is more or less mythical,\nbut his personal relics, which are now deposited in the Ethnological\nMuseum at Cambridge, suffice to prove his true humanity.]\n\n\n\n\nLECTURE XVII\n\nTHE BELIEF IN IMMORTALITY AMONG THE NATIVES OF CENTRAL MELANESIA\n(_concluded_)\n\n\n[Sidenote: Public sacrifices to ghosts in the Solomon Islands.]\n\nAt the close of last lecture I described the mode in which sacrifices\nare offered to a martial ghost in San Cristoval, one of the Solomon\nIslands. We saw that the flesh of a pig is burned in honour of the ghost\nand that the victim's blood is poured on the flames. Similarly in\nFlorida, another of the Solomon Islands, food is conveyed to worshipful\nghosts by being burned in the fire. Some ghosts are known by name to\neverybody, others may be known only to individuals, who have found out\nor been taught how to approach them, and who accordingly regard such\nghosts as their private property. In every village a public ghost is\nworshipped, and the chief is the sacrificer. He has learned from his\npredecessor how to throw or heave the sacrifice, and he imparts this\nknowledge to his son or nephew, whom he intends to leave as his\nsuccessor. The place of sacrifice is an enclosure with a little house or\nshrine in which the relics are kept; it is new or old according as the\nman whose ghost is worshipped died lately or long ago. When a public\nsacrifice is performed, the people assemble near but not in the sacred\nplace; boys but not women may be present. The sacrificer alone enters\nthe shrine, but he takes with him his son or other person whom he has\ninstructed in the ritual. Muttering an incantation he kindles a fire of\nsticks, but may not blow on the holy flame. Then from a basket he takes\nsome prepared food, such as a mash of yams, and throws it on the fire,\ncalling out the name of the ghost and bidding him take his food, while\nat the same time he prays for whatever is desired. If the fire blazes up\nand consumes the food, it is a good sign; it proves that the ghost is\npresent and that he is blowing up the flame. The remainder of the food\nthe sacrificer takes back to the assembled people; some of it he eats\nhimself and some of it he gives to his assistant to eat. The people\nreceive their portions of the food at his hands and eat it or take it\naway. While the sacrificing is going on, there is a solemn silence. If a\npig is killed, the portion burned in the sacrificial fire is the heart\nin Florida, but the gullet at Bugotu. One ghost who is commonly known\nand worshipped is called Manoga. When the sacrificer invokes this ghost,\nhe heaves the sacrifice round about and calls him, first to the east,\nwhere rises the sun, saying, \"If thou dwellest in the east, where rises\nthe sun, Manoga! come hither and eat thy _tutu_ mash!\" Then turning he\nlifts it towards where sets the sun, and says, \"If thou dwellest in the\nwest, where sets the sun, Manoga! come hither and eat thy _tutu_!\" There\nis not a quarter to which he does not lift it up. And when he has\nfinished lifting it he says, \"If thou dwellest in heaven above, Manoga!\ncome hither and eat thy _tutu_! If thou dwellest in the Pleiades or\nOrion's belt; if below in Turivatu; if in the distant sea; if on high in\nthe sun, or in the moon; if thou dwellest inland or by the shore,\nManoga! come hither and eat thy _tutu_!\"[590]\n\n[Sidenote: First-fruits of the canarium nuts sacrificed to ghosts.]\n\nTwice a year there are general sacrifices in which the people of a\nvillage take part. One of these occasions is when the canarium nut, so\nmuch used in native cookery, is ripe. None of the nuts may be eaten till\nthe first-fruits have been offered to the ghost. \"Devil he eat first;\nall man he eat behind,\" is the lucid explanation which a native gave to\nan English enquirer. The knowledge of the way in which the first-fruits\nmust be offered is handed down from generation to generation, and the\nman who is learned in this lore has authority to open the season. He\nobserves the state of the crop, and early one morning he is heard to\nshout. He climbs a tree, picks some nuts, cracks them, eats, and puts\nsome on the stones in his sacred place for the ghost. Then the rest of\nthe people may gather the nuts for themselves. The chief himself\nsacrifices the new nuts, mixed with other food, to the public ghost on\nthe stones of the village sanctuary; and every man who has a private\nghost of his own does the same in his own sacred place. About two months\nafterwards there is another public sacrifice when the root crops\ngenerally have been dug; pig or fish is then offered; and a man who digs\nup his yams, or whatever it may be, offers his private sacrifice\nbesides.[591]\n\n[Sidenote: Sacrifice of first-fruits to ancestral spirits in Tanna.]\n\nIn like manner the natives of Tanna, one of the Southern New Hebrides,\noffered the first-fruits to the deified spirits of their ancestors. On\nthis subject I will quote the evidence of the veteran missionary, the\nRev. Dr. George Turner, who lived in Tanna for seven months in 1841. He\nsays: \"The general name for gods seemed to be _aremha_; that means a\n_dead man_, and hints alike at the origin and nature of their religious\nworship. The spirits of their departed ancestors were among their gods.\nChiefs who reach an advanced age were after death deified, addressed by\nname, and prayed to on various occasions. They were supposed especially\nto preside over the growth of the yams and the different fruit trees.\nThe first-fruits were presented to them, and in doing this they laid a\nlittle of the fruit on some stone, or shelving branch of the tree, or\nsome more temporary altar of a few rough sticks from the bush, lashed\ntogether with strips of bark, in the form of a table, with its four feet\nstuck in the ground. All being quiet, the chief acted as high priest,\nand prayed aloud thus: 'Compassionate father! here is some food for you;\neat it; be kind to us on account of it.' And, instead of an _amen_, all\nunited in a shout. This took place about mid-day, and afterwards those\nwho were assembled continued together feasting and dancing till midnight\nor three in the morning.\"[592]\n\n[Sidenote: Private ghosts. Fighting ghosts kept as auxiliaries.]\n\nIn addition to the public ghosts, each of whom is revered by a whole\nvillage, many a man keeps, so to say, a private or tame ghost of his own\non leash. The art of taming a ghost consists in knowing the leaves,\nbark, and vines in which he delights and in treating him accordingly.\nThis knowledge a man may acquire by the exercise of his natural\nfaculties or he may learn it from somebody else. However he may obtain\nthe knowledge, he uses it for his own personal advantage, sacrificing to\nthe ghost in order to win his favour and get something from him in\nreturn. The mode of sacrificing to a private ghost is the same as to a\npublic ghost. The owner has a sacred place or private chapel of his own,\nwhere he draws near to the ghost in prayer and burns his bit of food in\nthe fire. A man often keeps a fighting ghost (_keramo_), who helps him\nin battle or in slaying his private enemy. Before he goes out to commit\nhomicide, he pulls up his ginger-plant and judges from the ease or\ndifficulty with which the plant yields to or resists his tug, whether he\nwill succeed in the enterprise or not. Then he sacrifices to the ghost,\nand having placed some ginger and leaves on his shield, and stuffed some\nmore in his belt and right armlet, he sallies forth. He curses his enemy\nby his fighting ghost, saying, \"Siria (if that should be the name of the\nghost) eats thee, and I shall slay thee\"; and if he kills him, he cries\nto the ghost, \"Thine is this man, Siria, and do thou give me\nsupernatural power!\" No prudent Melanesian would attempt to commit\nmanslaughter without a ghost as an accomplice; to do so would be to\ncourt disaster, for the slain man's ghost would have power over the\nslayer; therefore before he imbrues his hands in blood he deems it\ndesirable to secure the assistance of a valiant ghost who can, if need\nbe, overcome the ghost of his victim in single combat. If he cannot\nprocure such a useful auxiliary in any other way, he must purchase him.\nFurther, he fortifies himself with some personal relic, such as a tooth\nor lock of hair of the deceased warrior, whose ghost he has taken into\nhis service; this relic he wears as an amulet in a little bag round the\nneck, when he is on active service; at other times it is kept in the\nhouse.[593]\n\n[Sidenote: Garden ghosts.]\n\nDifferent from these truculent spirits are the peaceful ghosts who cause\nthe garden to bear fruit. If the gardener happens to know such a ghost,\nhe can pray and sacrifice to him on his own account; but if he has no\nsuch friend in the spirit world, he must employ an expert. The man of\nskill goes into the midst of the garden with a little mashed food in his\nleft hand, and smiting it with his right hand he calls on the ghost to\ncome and eat. He says: \"This produce thou shall eat; give supernatural\npower (_mana_) to this garden, that food may be good and plentiful.\" He\ndigs holes at the four corners of the garden, and in them he buries such\nleaves as the ghost loves, so that the garden may have ghostly power and\nbe fruitful. And when the yams sprout, he twines them with the\nparticular creeper and fastens them with the particular wood to which\nthe ghost is known to be partial. These agricultural ghosts are very\nsensitive; if a man enters the garden, who has just eaten pork or cuscus\nor fish or shell-fish, the ghost of the garden manifests his displeasure\nby causing the produce of the garden to droop; but if the eater lets\nthree or four days go by after his meal, he may then enter the garden\nwith impunity, for the food has left his stomach. For a similar reason,\napparently, when the yam vines are being trained, the men sleep near the\ngardens and never approach their wives; for should they tread the garden\nafter conjugal intercourse, the yams would be blighted.[594]\n\n[Sidenote: Human sacrifices to ghosts.]\n\nSometimes the favour of a ghost is obtained by human sacrifices. On\nthese occasions the flesh of the victim does not, like the flesh of a\npig, furnish the materials of a sacrificial banquet; but little bits of\nit are eaten by young men to improve their fighting power and by elders\nfor a special purpose. Such sacrifices are deemed more effectual than\nthe sacrifices of less precious victims; and advantage was sometimes\ntaken of a real or imputed crime to offer the criminal to some ghost.\nSo, for example, within living memory Dikea, chief of Ravu, convicted a\ncertain man of stealing tobacco, and sentenced him to be sacrificed; and\nthe grown lads ate pieces of him cooked in the sacrificial fire. Again,\nthe same chief offered another human sacrifice in the year 1886. One of\nhis wives had proved false, and he sent her away vowing that she should\nnot return till he had offered a human sacrifice to Hauri. Also his son\ndied, and he vowed to kill a man for him. The vow was noised abroad, and\neverybody knew that he would pay well for somebody to kill. Now the Savo\npeople had bought a captive boy in Guadalcanar, but it turned out a bad\nbargain, for the boy was lame and nearly blind. So they brought him to\nDikea, and he gave them twenty coils of shell money for the lad. Then\nthe chief laid his hand on the victim's breast and cried, \"Hauri! here\nis a man for you,\" and his followers killed him with axes and clubs. The\ncripple's skull was added to the chief's collection, and his legs were\nsent about the country to make known what had been done. In Bugotu of\nYsabel, when the people had slain an enemy in fight, they used to bring\nback his head in triumph, cut slices off it, and burn them in sacrifice.\nAnd if they took a prisoner alive, they would bring him to the sacred\nplace, the grave of the man whose ghost was to be honoured. There they\nbound him hand and foot and buffeted him till he died, or if he did not\ndie under the buffets they cut his throat. As they beat the man with\ntheir fists, they called on the ghost to take him, and when he was dead,\nthey burned a bit of him in the fire for the ghost.[595]\n\n[Sidenote: Sacrifices to ghosts in Saa.]\n\nAt Saa in Malanta, one of the Solomon Islands, sacrifices are offered to\nghosts on various occasions. Thus on his return from a voyage a man will\nput food in the case which contains the relics of his dead father; and\nin the course of his voyage, if he should land in a desert isle, he will\nthrow food and call on father, grandfather, and other deceased friends.\nAgain, when sickness is ascribed to the anger of a ghost, a man of skill\nis sent for to discover what particular ghost is doing the mischief.\nWhen he has ascertained the culprit, he is furnished by the patient's\nrelatives with a little pig, which he is to sacrifice to the ghost as a\nsubstitute for the sick man. Provided with this vicarious victim he\nrepairs to the haunt of the ghost, strangles the animal, and burns it\nwhole in a fire along with grated yam, coco-nut, and fish. As he does\nso, he calls out the names of all the ghosts of his family, his\nancestors, and all who are deceased, down even to children and women,\nand he names the man who furnished the pig for the ghostly repast. A\nportion of the mixed food he preserves unburnt, wraps it in a dracaena\nleaf, and puts it beside the case which contains the relics of the man\nto whose ghost the sacrifice has been offered. Sometimes, however,\ninstead of burning a pig in the fire, which is an expensive and wasteful\nform of sacrifice, the relatives of the sick man content themselves with\ncooking a pig or a dog in the oven, cutting up the carcase, and laying\nout all the parts in order. Then the sacrificer comes and sits at the\nanimal's head, and calls out the names of all the dead members of the\nghost's family in order downwards, saying, \"Help, deliver this man, cut\nshort the line that has bound him.\" Then the pig is eaten by all present\nexcept the women; nothing is burnt.[596]\n\n[Sidenote: Sacrifices of first-fruits to ghosts in Saa.]\n\nThe last sort of sacrifices to ghosts at Saa which we need notice is the\nsacrifice of first-fruits. Thus, when the yams are ripe the people fetch\nsome of them from each garden to offer to the ghosts. All the male\nmembers of the family assemble at the holy place which belongs to them.\nThen one of them enters the shrine, lays a yam beside the skull which\nlies there, and cries with a loud voice to the ghost, \"This is yours to\neat.\" The others call quietly on the names of all the ancestors and give\ntheir yams, which are very many in number, because one from each garden\nis given to each ghost. If any man has besides a relic of the dead, such\nas a skull, bones, or hair, in his house, he takes home a yam and sets\nit beside the relic. Again, the first flying-fish of the season are\nsacrificed to ghosts, who may take the form of sharks; for we shall see\npresently that Melanesian ghosts are sometimes supposed to inhabit the\nbodies of these ferocious monsters. Some ghost-sharks have sacred places\nashore, where figures of sharks are set up. In that case the first\nflying-fish are cooked and set before the shark images. But it may be\nthat a shark ghost has no sacred place on land, and then there is\nnothing for it but to take the flying-fish out to sea and shred them\ninto the water, while the sacrificer calls out the name of the\nparticular ghost whom he desires to summon to the feast.[597]\n\n[Sidenote: Vicarious sacrifices for the sick.]\n\nVicarious sacrifices for the sick are offered in San Cristoval to a\ncertain malignant ghost called Tapia, who is believed to seize a man's\nsoul and tie it up to a banyan tree. When that has happened, a man who\nknows how to manage Tapia intercedes with him. He takes a pig or fish to\nthe sacred place and offers it to the grim ghost, saying, \"This is for\nyou to eat in place of that man; eat this, don't kill him.\" With that he\ncan loose the captive soul and take it back to the sick man, who\nthereupon recovers.[598]\n\n[Sidenote: Sacrifices to ghosts in Santa Cruz. The dead represented by a\nstock.]\n\nIn Santa Cruz the sacrifices offered to ghosts are very economical; for\nif the offering is of food, the living eat it up after a decent\ninterval; if it is a valuable, they remove it and resume the use of it\nthemselves. The principle of this spiritual economy probably lies in the\ncommon belief that ghosts, being immaterial, absorb the immaterial\nessence of the objects, leaving the material substance to be enjoyed by\nmen. When a man of mark dies in Santa Cruz, his relations set up a stock\nof wood in his house to represent him. This is renewed from time to\ntime, till after a while the man is forgotten or thrown into the shade\nby the attractions of some newer ghost, so that the old stock is\nneglected. But when the stock is first put up, a pig is killed and two\nstrips of flesh from the back bone are set before the stock as food for\nthe ghost, but only to be soon taken away and eaten by the living.\nSimilar offerings may be repeated from time to time, as when the stock\nis renewed. Again, when a garden is planted, they spread feather-money\nand red native cloth round it for the use of the ghost; but his\nenjoyment of these riches is brief and precarious.[599]\n\n[Sidenote: Native account of sacrifices to ghosts in Santa Cruz.]\n\nTo supplement the foregoing account of sacrifices to ghosts in Santa\nCruz, I will add a description of some of them which was given by a\nnative of Santa Cruz in his own language and translated for us by a\nmissionary. It runs thus: \"When anyone begins to fall sick he seeks a\ndoctor (_meduka_), and when the doctor comes near the sick man he\nstiffens his body, and all those in the house think a ghost has entered\ninto the doctor, and they are all very quiet. Some doctors tell the sick\nman's relatives to kill a pig for the ghost who has caused the sickness.\nWhen they have killed the pig they take it into the ghost-house and\ninvite some other men, and they eat with prayers to the ghost; and the\ndoctor takes a little piece and puts it near the base of the ghost-post,\nand says to it: 'This is thy food; oh, deliver up again the spirit of\nthy servant, that he may be well again.' The little portion they have\noffered to the ghost is then eaten; but small boys may not eat of\nit.\"[600] \"Every year the people plant yams and tomagos; and when they\nbegin to work and have made ready the place and begun to plant, first,\nthey offer to the ghost who they think presides over foods. There is an\noffering place in the bush, and they go there and take much food, and\nalso feather money. Men, women, and children do this, and they think the\nghost notices if there are many children, and gives much food at\nharvest; and the ghost to whom they offer is named Ilene. When the\nbread-fruit begins to bear they take great care lest anyone should light\na fire near the bole of the tree, or throw a stone at the tree. The\nghost, who they think protects the bread-fruit, is called Duka-Kane or\nKae Tuabia, who has two names; they think this ghost has four\neyes.\"[601] \"The heathen thinks a ghost makes the sun to shine and the\nrain. If it is continual sunshine and the yams are withering the people\nassemble together and contribute money, and string it to the man with\nwhom the rain-ghost abides, and food also, and beseech him not to do the\nthing he was doing. That man will not wash his face for a long time, he\nwill not work lest he perspire and his body be wet, for he thinks that\nif his body be wet it will rain. Then this man, with whom the rain-ghost\nis, takes water and goes into the ghost-house and sprinkles it at the\nhead of the ghost-post (_duka_), and if there are many ghost-posts in\nthe house he pours water over them all that it may rain.\"[602]\n\n[Sidenote: Combination of magic with religion.]\n\nIn these ceremonies for the making of rain we see a combination of magic\nwith religion. The appeal to the rain-ghost is religious; but the\npouring of the water on the ghost-post is magical, being an imitation of\nthe result which the officiating priest or magician, whichever we choose\nto call him, desires to produce. The taboos observed by the owner of the\nrain-ghost so long as he wishes to prevent the rain from falling are\nalso based on the principle of homoeopathic or imitative magic: he\nabstains from washing his face or working, lest the water or the sweat\ntrickling down his body should mimick rain and thereby cause it to\nfall.[603]\n\n[Sidenote: Prayers to the dead.]\n\nThe natives of Aneiteum, one of the Southern New Hebrides, worshipped\nthe spirits of their ancestors, chiefly on occasions of sickness.[604]\nAgain, the people of Vate or Efat, another of the New Hebrides,\nworshipped the souls of their forefathers and prayed to them over the\n_kava_-bowl for health and prosperity.[605] As an example of prayers\noffered to the dead we may take the petition which the natives of\nFlorida put up at sea to Daula, a well-known ghost, who is associated\nwith the frigate-bird. They say: \"Do thou draw the canoe, that it may\nreach the land; speed my canoe, grandfather, that I may quickly reach\nthe shore whither I am bound. Do thou, Daula, lighten the canoe, that it\nmay quickly gain the land and rise upon the shore.\" They also invoke\nDaula to help them in fishing. \"If thou art powerful, O Daula,\" they\nsay, \"put a fish or two into this net and let them die there.\" After a\ngood catch they praise him, saying, \"Powerful is the ghost of the net.\"\nAnd when the natives of Florida are in danger on the sea, they call upon\ntheir immediate forefathers; one will call on his grandfather, another\non his father, another on some dead friend, calling with reverence and\nsaying, \"Save us on the deep! Save us from the tempest! Bring us to the\nshore!\" In San Cristoval people apply to ghosts for victory in battle,\nhealth in sickness, and good crops; but the word which they use to\nsignify such an application conveys the notion of charm rather than of\nprayer. However, in the Banks' Islands what may be called prayer is\nstrictly speaking an invocation of the dead; indeed the very word for\nprayer (_tataro_) seems to be identical with that for a powerful ghost\n(_'ataro_ in San Cristoval). A man in peril on the sea will call on his\ndead friends, especially on one who was in his lifetime a good sailor.\nAnd in Mota, when an oven is opened, they throw in a leaf of cooked\nmallow for a ghost, saying to him, \"This is a lucky bit for your eating;\nthey who have charmed your food or clubbed you (as the case may be),\ntake hold of their hands, drag them away to hell, let them be dead.\" So\nwhen they pour water on the oven, they pray to the ghost, saying, \"Pour\nit on the head of him down there who has laid plots against me, has\nclubbed me, has shot me, has stolen things of mine (as the case may be),\nhe shall die.\" Again, when they make a libation before drinking, they\npray, saying, \"Grandfather! this is your lucky drop of kava; let boars\ncome in to me; the money I have spent, let it come back to me; the food\nthat is gone, let it come back hither to the house of you and me.\" And\non starting for a voyage they will say, \"Uncle! father! plenty of boars\nfor you, plenty of money; kava for your drinking, lucky food for your\neating in the canoe. I pray you with this, look down upon me, let me go\non a safe sea.\" Or when the canoe labours with a heavy freight, they\nwill pray, \"Take off your burden from us, that we may speed on a safe\nsea.\"[606]\n\n[Sidenote: Sanctuaries of ghosts in Florida.]\n\nIn the island of Florida, the sanctuary of a powerful ghost is called a\n_vunuhu_. Sometimes it is in the village, sometimes in the\ngarden-ground, sometimes in the forest. If it is in the village, it is\nfenced about, lest the foot of any rash intruder should infringe its\nsanctity. Sometimes the sanctuary is the place where the dead man is\nburied; sometimes it merely contains his relics, which have been\ntranslated thither. In some sanctuaries there is a shrine and in some an\nimage. Generally, if not always, stones may be seen lying in such a holy\nplace. The sight of one of them has probably struck the fancy of the man\nwho founded the worship; he thought it a likely place for the ghost to\nhaunt, and other smaller stones and shells have been subsequently added.\nOnce a sanctuary has been established, everything within it becomes\nsacred (_tambu_) and belongs to the ghost. Were a tree growing within it\nto fall across the path, nobody would step over it. When a sacrifice is\nto be offered to the ghost on the holy ground, the man who knows the\nghost, and whose duty it is to perform the sacrifice, enters first and\nall who attend him follow, treading in his footsteps. In going out no\none will look back, lest his soul should stay behind. No one would pass\nsuch a sanctuary when the sun was so low as to cast his shadow into it;\nfor if he did the ghost would seize his shadow and so drag the man\nhimself into his den. If there were a shrine in the sanctuary, nobody\nbut the sacrificer might enter it. Such a shrine contained the weapons\nand other properties which belonged in his lifetime to the man whose\nghost was worshipped on the spot.[607]\n\n[Sidenote: Sanctuaries of ghosts in Malanta.]\n\nAt Saa in Malanta, another of the Solomon Islands, all burial-grounds\nwhere common people are interred are so far sacred that no one will go\nthere without due cause; but places where the remains of nobles repose,\nand where sacrifices are offered to their ghosts, are regarded with very\ngreat respect, they may indeed be called family sanctuaries. Some of\nthem are very old, the powerful ghosts who are worshipped in them being\nremote ancestors. It sometimes happens that the man who used to\nsacrifice in such a place dies without having instructed his son in the\nproper chant of invocation with which the worshipful ghost should be\napproached. In such a case the young man who succeeds him may fear to go\nto the old sanctuary, lest he should commit a mistake and offend the\nghost; so he will take some ashes from the old sacrificial fire-place\nand found a new sanctuary. It is not common in that part of Malanta to\nbuild shrines for the relics of the dead, but it is sometimes done. Such\nshrines, on the other hand, are common in the villages of San Cristoval\nand in the sacred places of that island where great men lie buried. To\ntrespass on them would be likely to rouse the anger of the ghosts, some\nof whom are known to be of a malignant disposition.[608]\n\n[Sidenote: Sanctuaries which are not burial-grounds.]\n\nBut burial-grounds are not the only sanctuaries in the Solomon Islands.\nThere are some where no dead man is known to be interred, though in Dr.\nCodrington's opinion there are probably none which do not derive their\nsanctity from the presence of a ghost. In the island of Florida the\nappearance of something wonderful will cause any place to become a\nsanctuary, the wonder being accepted as proof of a ghostly presence. For\nexample, in the forest near Olevuga a man planted some coco-nut and\nalmond trees and died not long afterwards. Then there appeared among the\ntrees a great rarity in the shape of a white cuscus. The people took it\nfor granted that the animal was the dead man's ghost, and therefore they\ncalled it by his name. The place became a sanctuary; no one would gather\nthe coco-nuts and almonds that grew there, till two Christian converts\nset the ghost at defiance and appropriated his garden, with the\ncoco-nuts and almonds. Through the same part of the forest ran a stream\nfull of eels, one of which was so big that the people were quite sure it\nmust be a ghost; so nobody would bathe in that stream or drink from it,\nexcept at one pool, which for the sake of convenience was considered not\nto be sacred. Again, in Bugotu, a district of Ysabel, which is another\nof the Solomon Islands, there is a pool known to be the haunt of a very\nold ghost. When a man has an enemy whom he wishes to harm he will obtain\nsome scraps of his food and throw them into the water. If the food is at\nonce devoured by the fish, which swarm in the pool, the man will die,\nbut otherwise his life may be saved by the intervention of a man who\nknows the habits of the ghost and how to propitiate him. In these sacred\nplaces there are stones, on which people place food in order to obtain\ngood crops, while for success in fishing they deposit morsels of cooked\nfish. Such stones are treated with reverence and seem to be in a fair\nway to develop into altars. However, when the old ghost is superseded,\nas he often is, by younger rivals, the development of an altar out of\nthe stones is arrested.[609]\n\n[Sidenote: Ghosts in animals, such as sharks, alligators, snakes,\nbonitos, and frigate-birds.]\n\nFrom some of these instances we learn that Melanesian ghosts can\nsometimes take up their abode in animals, such as cuscuses, eels, and\nfish. The creatures which are oftenest used as vehicles by the spirits\nof the dead are sharks, alligators, snakes, bonitos, and frigate-birds.\nSnakes which haunt a sacred place are themselves sacred, because they\nbelong to or actually embody the ghost. Sharks, again, in all these\nislands are very often thought to be the abode of ghosts; for men before\ntheir death will announce that they will appear as sharks, and\nafterwards any shark remarkable for size or colour which haunts a\ncertain shore or coast is taken to be somebody's ghost and receives the\nname of the deceased. At Saa certain food, such as coco-nuts from\nparticular trees, is reserved to feed such a ghost-shark; and men of\nwhom it is known for certain that they will be sharks after their death\nare allowed to anticipate the posthumous honours which await them by\ndevouring such food in the sacred place, just as if they were real\nsharks. Sharks are very commonly believed to be the abode of ghosts in\nFlorida and Ysabel, and in Savo, where they are particularly numerous;\nhence, though all sharks are not venerated, there is no living creature\nso commonly held sacred by the Central Melanesians as a shark; and\nshark-ghosts seem even to form a class of powerful supernatural beings.\nAgain, when a lizard was seen frequenting a house after a death, it\nwould be taken for the ghost returning to its old home; and many ghosts,\npowerful to aid the mariner at sea, take up their quarters in\nfrigate-birds.[610]\n\n[Sidenote: The belief in ghosts underlies the Melanesian conception of\nmagic.]\n\nAgain, a belief in powerful ghosts underlies to a great extent the\nMelanesian conception of magic, as that conception is expounded by Dr.\nCodrington. \"That invisible power,\" he tells us, \"which is believed by\nthe natives to cause all such effects as transcend their conception of\nthe regular course of nature, and to reside in spiritual beings, whether\nin the spiritual part of living men or in the ghosts of the dead, being\nimparted by them to their names and to various things that belong to\nthem, such as stones, snakes, and indeed objects of all sorts, is that\ngenerally known as _mana_. Without some understanding of this it is\nimpossible to understand the religious beliefs and practices of the\nMelanesians; and this again is the active force in all they do and\nbelieve to be done in magic, white or black. By means of this men are\nable to control or direct the forces of nature, to make rain or\nsunshine, wind or calm, to cause sickness or remove it, to know what is\nfar off in time and space, to bring good luck and prosperity, or to\nblast and curse. No man, however, has this power of his own; all that he\ndoes is done by the aid of personal beings, ghosts or spirits.\"[611]\n\n[Sidenote: Illness generally thought to be caused by ghosts.]\n\nThus, to begin with the medical profession, which is a branch of magic\nlong before it becomes a department of science, every serious sickness\nis believed to be brought about by ghosts or spirits, but generally it\nis to the ghosts of the dead that illness is ascribed both by the\nEastern and by the Western islanders. Hence recourse is had to ghosts\nfor aid both in causing and in curing sickness. They are thought to\ninflict disease, not only because some offence, such as trespass, has\nbeen committed against them, or because one who knows their ways has\ninstigated them thereto by sacrifice and spells, but because there is a\ncertain malignity in the feeling of all ghosts towards the living, who\noffend them simply by being alive. All human faculties, apart from the\nmere bodily functions, are supposed to be enhanced by death; hence the\nghost of a powerful and ill-natured man is only too ready to take\nadvantage of his increased powers for mischief.[612] Thus in the island\nof Florida illness is regularly laid at the door of a ghost; the only\nquestion that can arise is which particular ghost is doing the mischief.\nSometimes the patient imagines that he has offended his dead father,\nuncle, or brother, who accordingly takes his revenge by stretching him\non a bed of sickness. In that case no special intercessor is required;\nthe patient himself or one of his kinsfolk will sacrifice and beg the\nghost to take the sickness away; it is purely a family affair. Sometimes\nthe sick man thinks that it is his own private or tame ghost who is\nafflicting him; so he will leave the house in order to escape his\ntormentor. But if the cause of sickness remains obscure, a professional\ndoctor or medicine-man will be consulted. He always knows, or at least\ncan ascertain, the ghost who is causing all the trouble, and he takes\nhis measures accordingly. Thus he will bind on the sick man the kind of\nleaves that the ghost loves; he will chew ginger and blow it into the\npatient's ears and on that part of the skull which is soft in infants;\nhe will call on the name of the ghost and entreat him to remove the\nsickness. Should all these remedies prove vain, the doctor is by no\nmeans at the end of his resources. He may shrewdly suspect that\nsomebody, who has an ill-will at the patient, has set his private ghost\nto maul the sick man and do him a grievous bodily injury. If his\nsuspicions are confirmed and he discovers the malicious man who is\negging on the mischievous ghost, he will bribe him to call off his\nghost; and if the man refuses, the doctor will hire another ghost to\nassault and batter the original assailant. At Wango in San Cristoval\nregular battles used to be fought by the invisible champions above the\nsickbed of the sufferer, whose life or death depended on the issue of\nthe combat. Their weapons were spears, and sometimes more than one ghost\nwould be engaged on either side.[613]\n\n[Sidenote: Diagnosis of ghosts who have caused illness.]\n\nIn Ysabel the doctor employs an ingenious apparatus for discovering the\ncause of sickness and ascertaining its cure. He suspends a stone at one\nend of a string while he holds the other end in his hand. Then he\nrecites the names of all the people who died lately, and when the stone\nswings at anybody's name, he knows that the ghost of that man has caused\nthe illness. It remains to find out what the ghost will take to relax\nhis clutch on the sick man, it may be a mash of yams, a fish, a pig, or\nperhaps a human substitute. The question is put and answered as before;\nand whatever the oracle declares to be requisite is offered on the dead\nman's grave. Thus the ghost is appeased and the sufferer is made\nwhole.[614] In these islands a common cause of illness is believed to be\nan unwarrantable intrusion on premises occupied by a ghost, who punishes\nthe trespasser by afflicting him with bodily pains and ailments, or it\nmay be by carrying off his soul. At Maewo in Aurora, one of the New\nHebrides, when there is reason to think that a sickness is due to\nghostly agency, the friends of the sick man send for a professional\ndreamer, whose business it is to ascertain what particular ghost has\nbeen offended and to make it up with him. So the dreamer falls asleep\nand in his sleep he dreams a dream. He seems to himself to be in the\nplace where the patient was working before his illness; and there he\nspies a queer little old man, who is really no other than the ghost. The\ndreamer falls into conversation with him, learns his name, and winning\nhis confidence extracts from him a true account of the whole affair. The\nfact is that in working at his garden the man encroached, whether\nwittingly or not is no matter, on land which the ghost regards as his\nprivate preserve; and to punish the intrusion the ghost carried off the\nintruder's soul and impounded it in a magic fence in his garden, where\nit still languishes in durance vile. The dreamer at once tenders a frank\nand manly apology on behalf of his client; he assures the ghost that the\ntrespass was purely inadvertent, that no personal disrespect whatever\nwas intended, and he concludes by requesting the ghost to overlook the\noffence for this time and to release the imprisoned soul. This appeal to\nthe better feelings of the ghost has its effect; he pulls up the fence\nand lets the soul out of the pound; it flies back to the sick man, who\nthereupon recovers. Sometimes an orphan child is made sick by its dead\nmother, whose ghost draws away the soul of the infant to keep her\ncompany in the spirit land. In such a case, again, a dreamer is employed\nto bring back the lost soul from the far country; and if he can persuade\nthe mother's ghost to relinquish the tiny soul of her baby, the child\nwill be made whole.[615] Once more certain long stones in the Banks'\nIslands are inhabited by ghosts so active and robust that if a man's\nshadow so much as falls on one of them, the ghost in the stone will\nclutch the shadow and pull the soul clean out of the man, who dies\naccordingly. Such stones, dangerous as they unquestionably are to the\nchance passer-by, nevertheless for that very reason possess a valuable\nproperty which can be turned to excellent account. A man, for example,\nwill put one of these stones in his house to guard it like a watch-dog\nin his absence; and if he sends a friend to fetch something out of it\nwhich he has forgotten, the messenger, on approaching the house, will\ntake good care to call out the owner's name, lest the ghost in the\nstone, mistaking him for a thief and a robber, should pounce out on him\nand do him a mischief before he had time to explain.[616]\n\n[Sidenote: Contrast between Melanesian and European medicine.]\n\nThus it appears that for a medical practitioner in Melanesia the first\nrequisite is an intimate acquaintance, not with the anatomy of the human\nframe and the properties of drugs, but with ghosts, their personal\npeculiarities, habits, and haunts. Only by means of the influence which\nsuch a knowledge enables him to exert on these powerful and dangerous\nbeings can the good physician mitigate and assuage the sufferings of\npoor humanity. His professional skill, while it certainly aims at the\nalleviation of physical evils, attains its object chiefly, if not\nexclusively, by a direct appeal to those higher, though invisible,\npowers which encompass the life of man, or at all events of the\nMelanesian. The firm faith in the spiritual and the unseen which these\nsable doctors display in their treatment of the sick presents a striking\ncontrast to the procedure of their European colleagues, who trust\nexclusively to the use of mere physical remedies, such as drugs and\nlancets, now carving the body of the sufferer with knives, and now\ninserting substances, about which they know little, into places about\nwhich they know nothing. Has not science falsely so called still much to\nlearn from savagery?\n\n[Sidenote: The weather believed to be regulated by ghosts and spirits.\nWeather-doctors.]\n\nBut it is not the departments of medicine and surgery alone, important\nas these are to human welfare, which in Melanesia are directed and\ncontrolled by spiritual forces. The weather in those regions is also\nregulated by ghosts and spirits. It is they who cause the wind to blow\nor to be still, the sun to shine forth or to be overcast with clouds,\nthe rain to descend or the earth to be parched with drought; hence\nfertility and abundance or dearth and famine prevail alternately at the\nwill of these spiritual directors. From this it follows that men who\nstand on a footing of intimacy with ghosts and spirits can by judicious\nmanagement induce them to adapt the weather to the varying needs of\nmankind. But it is to be observed that the supernatural beings, who are\nthe real sources of atmospheric phenomena, have delegated or deputed a\nportion of their powers not merely to certain material objects, such as\nstones or leaves, but to certain set forms of words, which men call\nincantations or spells; and accordingly all such objects and formulas\ndo, by virtue of this delegation, possess in themselves a real and we\nmay almost say natural influence over the weather, which is often\nmanifested in a striking congruity or harmony between the things\nthemselves and the effects which they are calculated to produce. This\nadaptation of means to end in nature may perhaps be regarded as a\nbeautiful proof of the existence of spirits and ghosts working their\npurposes unseen behind the gaily coloured screen or curtain of the\nphysical universe. At all events men who are acquainted with the ghostly\nproperties of material objects and words can turn them to account for\nthe benefit of their friends and the confusion of their foes, and they\ndo so very readily if only it is made worth their while. Hence it comes\nabout that in these islands there are everywhere weather-doctors or\nweather-mongers, who through their familiarity with ghosts and spirits\nand their acquaintance with the ghostly or spiritual properties of\nthings, are able to control the weather and to supply their customers\nwith wind or calm, rain or sunshine, famine or abundance, at a\nreasonable rate and a moderate figure.[617] The advantages of such a\nsystem over our own blundering method of managing the weather, or rather\nof leaving it to its own devices, are too obvious to be insisted on. To\ntake a few examples. In the island of Florida, when a calm is wanted,\nthe weather-doctor takes a bunch of leaves, of the sort which the ghost\nloves, and hides the bunch in the hollow of a tree where there is water,\nat the same time invoking the ghost with the proper charm. This\nnaturally produces rain and with the rain a calm. In the seafaring life\nof the Solomon Islanders the maker of calms is a really valuable\ncitizen.[618] The Santa Cruz people are also great voyagers, and their\nwizards control the weather on their expeditions, taking with them the\nstock or log which represents their private or tame ghost and setting it\nup on a stage in the cabin. The presence of the familiar ghost being\nthus secured, the weather-doctor will undertake to provide wind or calm\naccording to circumstances.[619] We have already seen how in these\nislands the wizard makes rain by pouring water on the wooden posts which\nrepresent the rain-ghosts.[620]\n\n[Sidenote: Black magic working through personal refuse or rubbish of the\nvictim.]\n\nSuch exercises of ghostly power for the healing of the sick and the\nimprovement of the weather are, when well directed and efficacious,\nwholly beneficial. But ghostly power is a two-edged weapon which can\nwork evil as well as good to mankind. In fact it can serve the purpose\nof witchcraft. The commonest application of this pernicious art is one\nwhich is very familiar to witches and sorcerers in many parts of the\nworld. The first thing the wizard does is to obtain a fragment of food,\na bit of hair, a nail-clipping, or indeed anything that has been closely\nconnected with the person of his intended victim. This is the medium\nthrough which the power of the ghost or spirit is brought to bear; it\nis, so to say, the point of support on which the magician rests the\nwhole weight of his infernal engine. In order to give effect to the\ncharm it is very desirable, if not absolutely necessary, to possess some\npersonal relic, such as a bone, of the dead man whose ghost is to set\nthe machinery in motion. At all events the essential thing is to bring\ntogether the man who is to be injured and the ghost or spirit who is to\ninjure him; and this can be done most readily by placing the personal\nrelics or refuse of the two men, the living and the dead, in contact\nwith each other; for thus the magic circuit, if we may say so, is\ncomplete, and the fatal current flows from the dead to the living. That\nis why it is most dangerous to leave any personal refuse or rubbish\nlying about; you never can tell but that some sorcerer may get hold of\nit and work your ruin by means of it. Hence the people are naturally\nmost careful to hide or destroy all such refuse in order to prevent it\nfrom falling into the hands of witches and wizards; and this sage\nprecaution has led to habits of cleanliness which the superficial\nEuropean is apt to mistake for what he calls enlightened sanitation, but\nwhich a deeper knowledge of native thought would reveal to him in their\ntrue character as far-seeing measures designed to defeat the nefarious\nart of the sorcerer.[621]\n\n[Sidenote: Black magic working without any personal relic of the victim.\nThe ghost-shooter.]\n\nUnfortunately, however, an adept in the black art can work his fell\npurpose even without any personal relic of his victim. In the Banks'\nIslands, for example, he need only procure a bit of human bone or a\nfragment of some lethal weapon, it may be a splinter of a club or a chip\nof an arrow, which has killed somebody. This he wraps up in the proper\nleaves, recites over it the appropriate charm, and plants it secretly in\nthe path along which his intended victim is expected to pass. The ghost\nof the man who owned the bone in his life or perished by the club or the\narrow, is now lurking like a lion in the path; and if the poor fellow\nstrolls along it thinking no evil, the ghost will spring at him and\nstrike him with disease. The charm is perfectly efficient if the man\ndoes come along the path, but clearly it misses fire if he does not. To\nremedy this defect in the apparatus a sorcerer sometimes has recourse to\na portable instrument, a sort of pocket pistol, which in the Banks'\nIslands is known as a ghost-shooter. It is a bamboo tube, loaded not\nwith powder and shot, but with a dead man's bone and other magical\ningredients, over which the necessary spell has been crooned. Armed with\nthis deadly weapon the sorcerer has only to step up to his unsuspecting\nenemy, whip out the pocket pistol, uncork the muzzle by removing his\nthumb from the orifice, and present it at the victim; the fatal\ndischarge follows in an instant and the man drops to the ground. The\nghost in the pistol has done his work. Sometimes, however, an accident\nhappens. The marksman misses his victim and hits somebody else. This\noccurred, for example, not very many years ago in the island of Mota. A\nman named Isvitag was waiting with his ghost-shooter to pop at his\nenemy, but in his nervous excitement he let fly too soon, just as a\nwoman with a child on her hip stepped across the path. The shot, or\nrather the ghost, hit the child point-blank, and it was his sister's\nchild, his own next of kin! You may imagine the distress of the\naffectionate uncle at this deplorable miscarriage. To prevent\ninflammation of the wound he, with great presence of mind, plunged his\npocket pistol in water, and this timely remedy proved so efficacious\nthat the child took no hurt.[622]\n\n[Sidenote: Prophecy inspired by ghosts.]\n\nAnother department of Melanesian life in which ghosts figure very\nprominently is prophecy. The knowledge of future events is believed to\nbe conveyed to the people by a ghost or spirit speaking with the voice\nof a man, who is himself unconscious while he speaks. The predictions\nwhich emanate from the prophet under these circumstances are in the\nstrictest sense inspired. His human personality is for the time being in\nabeyance, and he is merely the mouthpiece of the powerful spirit which\nhas temporarily taken possession of his body and speaks with his voice.\nThe possession is indeed painfully manifest. His eyes glare, foam bursts\nfrom his mouth, his limbs writhe, his whole body is convulsed. These are\nthe workings of the mighty spirit shaking and threatening to rend the\nfrail tabernacle of flesh. This form of inspiration is not clearly\ndistinguishable from what we call madness; indeed the natives do not\nattempt to distinguish between the two things; they regard the madman\nand the prophet as both alike inspired by a ghost or spirit, and a man\nwill sometimes pretend to be mad in order that he may get the reputation\nof being a prophet. At Saa a man will speak with the voice of a powerful\nman deceased, while he twists and writhes under the influence of the\nghost; he calls himself by the name of the deceased who speaks through\nhim, and he is so addressed by others; he will eat fire, lift enormous\nweights, and foretells things to come. When the inspiration, or\ninsanity, is particularly violent, and the Banks' Islanders think they\nhave had quite enough of it, the friends of the prophet or of the madman\nwill sometimes catch him and hold him struggling and roaring in the\nsmoke of strong-smelling leaves, while they call out the names of the\ndead men whose ghosts are most likely to be abroad at the time, for as\nsoon as the right name is mentioned the ghost departs from the man, who\nthen returns to his sober senses. But this method of smoking out a ghost\nis not always successful.[623]\n\n[Sidenote: Divination by means of ghosts.]\n\nThere are many methods by which ghosts and spirits are believed to make\nknown to men who employ them the secret things which the unassisted\nhuman intelligence could not discover; and some of them hardly perhaps\nneed the intervention of a professional wizard. These methods of\ndivination differ very little in the various islands. In the Solomon\nIslands, for instance, when an expedition has started in a fleet of\ncanoes, there is sometimes a hesitation whether they shall proceed, or a\ndoubt as to what direction they should take. Thereupon a diviner may\ndeclare that he has felt a ghost step on board; for did not the canoe\ntip over to the one side? Accordingly he asks the invisible passenger,\n\"Shall we go on? Shall we go to such and such a place?\" If the canoe\nrocks, the answer is yes; if it lies on an even keel, the answer is no.\nAgain, when a man is sick and his friends wish to know what ghost is\nvexing or, as they say, eating him, a diviner or wizard is sent for. He\ncomes bringing an assistant, and the two sit down, the wizard in front\nand the assistant at his back, and they hold a stick or bamboo by the\ntwo ends. The wizard then begins to slap the end of the bamboo he holds,\ncalling out one after another the names of men not very long deceased,\nand when he names the one who is afflicting the sick man the stick of\nitself becomes violently agitated.[624] We are not informed, but we may\nprobably assume, that it is the ghost and not the man who really\nagitates the stick. A somewhat different mode of divination was\noccasionally employed at Motlav in the Banks' Islands in order to\ndiscover a thief or other criminal. After a burial they would take a\nbag, put some Tahitian chestnut and scraped banana into it, and tie it\nto the end of a hollow bamboo tube about ten feet long in such a way\nthat the end of the tube was inserted in the mouth of the bag. Then the\nbag was laid on the dead man's grave, and the diviners grasped the other\nend of the bamboo. The names of the recently dead were then called over,\nand while this was being done the men felt the bamboo grow heavy in\ntheir hands, for a ghost was scrambling up from the bag into the hollow\nof the bamboo. Having thus secured him they carried the imprisoned ghost\nin the bamboo into the village, where the roll of the recent dead was\nagain called over in order to learn whose ghost had been caught in the\ntrap. When wrong names were mentioned, the free end of the bamboo moved\nfrom side to side, but at the mention of the right name it revolved\nbriskly. Having thus ascertained whom they had to deal with, they\nquestioned the entrapped ghost, \"Who stole so and so? Who was guilty in\nsuch a case?\" Thereupon the bamboo, moved no doubt by the ghost inside,\npointed at the culprit, if he was present, or made signs as before when\nthe names of the suspected evildoers were mentioned.[625]\n\n[Sidenote: Taboo based on a fear of ghosts.]\n\nOf the many departments of Central Melanesian life which are permeated\nby a belief in ghostly power the last which I shall mention is the\ninstitution of taboo. In Melanesia, indeed, the institution is not so\nconspicuous as it used to be in Polynesia; yet even there it has been a\npowerful instrument in the consolidation of the rights of private\nproperty, and as such it deserves the attention of historians who seek\nto trace the evolution of law and morality. As understood in the Banks'\nIslands and the New Hebrides the word taboo (_tambu_ or _tapu_)\nsignifies a sacred and unapproachable character which is imposed on\ncertain things by the arbitrary will of a chief or other powerful man.\nSomebody whose authority with the people gives him confidence to make\nthe announcement will declare that such and such an object may not be\ntouched, that such and such a place may not be approached, and that such\nand such an action may not be performed under a certain penalty, which\nin the last resort will be inflicted by ghostly or spiritual agency. The\nobject, place, or action in question becomes accordingly taboo or\nsacred. Hence in these islands taboo may be defined as a prohibition\nwith a curse expressed or implied. The sanction or power at the back of\nthe taboo is not that of the man who imposes it; rather it is that of\nthe ghost or spirit in whose name or in reliance upon whom the taboo is\nimposed. Thus in Florida a chief will forbid something to be done or\ntouched under a penalty; he may proclaim, for example, that any one who\nviolates his prohibition must pay him a hundred strings of shell money.\nTo a European such a proclamation seems a proof of the chief's power;\nbut to the native the chiefs power, in this and in everything, rests on\nthe persuasion that the chief has his mighty ghost at his back. The\nsense of this in the particular case is indeed remote, the fear of the\nchiefs anger is present and effective, but the ultimate sanction is the\npower of the ghost. If a common man were to take upon himself to taboo\nanything he might do so; people would imagine that he would not dare to\nmake such an announcement unless he knew he could enforce it; so they\nwould watch, and if anybody violated the taboo and fell sick afterwards,\nthey would conclude that the taboo was supported by a powerful ghost who\npunished infractions of it. Hence the reputation and authority of the\nman who imposed the taboo would rise accordingly; for it would be seen\nthat he had a powerful ghost at his back. Every ghost has a particular\nkind of leaf for his badge; and in imposing his taboo a man will set the\nleaf of his private ghost as a mark to warn trespassers of the spiritual\npower with which they have to reckon; when people see a leaf stuck, it\nmay be, on a tree, a house, or a canoe, they do not always know whose it\nis; but they do know that if they disregard the mark they have to deal\nwith a ghost and not with a man,[626] and the knowledge is a more\neffectual check on thieving and other crimes than the dread of mere\nhuman justice. Many a rascal fears a ghost who does not fear the face of\nman.\n\n[Sidenote: The life of the Central Melanesians deeply influenced by\ntheir belief in the survival of the human soul after death.]\n\nWhat I have said may suffice to impress you with a sense of the deep\npractical influence which a belief in the survival of the human soul\nafter death exercises on the life and conduct of the Central Melanesian\nsavage. To him the belief is no mere abstract theological dogma or\nspeculative tenet, the occasional theme of edifying homilies and pious\nmeditation; it is an inbred, unquestioning, omnipresent conviction which\naffects his thoughts and actions daily and at every turn; it guides his\nfortunes as an individual and controls his behaviour as a member of a\ncommunity, by inculcating a respect for the rights of others and\nenforcing a submission to the public authorities. With him the fear of\nghosts and spirits is a bulwark of morality and a bond of society; for\nhe firmly believes in their unseen presence everywhere and in the\npunishments which they can inflict on wrongdoers. His whole theory of\ncausation differs fundamentally from ours and necessarily begets a\nfundamental difference of practice. Where we see natural forces and\nmaterial substances, the Melanesian sees ghosts and spirits. A great\ngulf divides his conception of the world from ours; and it may be\ndoubted whether education will ever enable him to pass the gulf and to\nthink and act like us. The products of an evolution which has extended\nover many ages cannot be forced like mushrooms in a summer day; it is\nvain to pluck the fruit of the tree of knowledge before it is ripe.\n\n[Footnote 590: R. H. Codrington, _The Melanesians_, pp. 130-132.]\n\n[Footnote 591: R. H. Codrington, _The Melanesians_, pp. 132 _sq._; C. M.\nWoodford, _A Naturalist among the Head-hunters_ (London, 1890), pp.\n26-28.]\n\n[Footnote 592: G. Turner, LL.D., _Samoa a Hundred Years Ago and long\nbefore_ (London, 1884), pp. 318 _sq._ Yams are the principal fruits\ncultivated by the Tannese, who bestow a great deal of labour on the\nplantation and keep them in fine order. See G. Turner, _op. cit._ pp.\n317 _sq._]\n\n[Footnote 593: R. H. Codrington, _The Melanesians_, pp. 133 _sq._]\n\n[Footnote 594: R. H. Codrington, _The Melanesians_, p. 134.]\n\n[Footnote 595: R. H. Codrington, _op. cit._ pp. 135 _sq._]\n\n[Footnote 596: R. H. Codrington, _The Melanesians_, pp. 137 _sq._]\n\n[Footnote 597: R. H. Codrington, _The Melanesians_, p. 138.]\n\n[Footnote 598: R. H. Codrington, _op. cit._ pp. 138 _sq._]\n\n[Footnote 599: R. H. Codrington, _op. cit._ p. 139.]\n\n[Footnote 600: \"Native Stories of Santa Cruz and Reef Islands,\"\ntranslated by the Rev. W. O'Ferrall, _Journal of the Anthropological\nInstitute_, xxxiv. (1904) p. 223.]\n\n[Footnote 601: \"Native Stories from Santa Cruz and Reef Islands,\" _op.\ncit._ p. 224.]\n\n[Footnote 602: \"Native Stories from Santa Cruz and Reef Islands,\" _op.\ncit._ p. 225.]\n\n[Footnote 603: Compare _The Magic Art and the Evolution of Kings_, i.\n269 _sqq._]\n\n[Footnote 604: G. Turner, _Samoa a Hundred Years Ago and long before_\n(London, 1884), p. 326.]\n\n[Footnote 605: G. Turner, _op. cit._ p. 334.]\n\n[Footnote 606: R. H. Codrington, _The Melanesians_, pp. 145-148.]\n\n[Footnote 607: R. H. Codrington, _The Melanesians_, pp. 175 _sq._]\n\n[Footnote 608: R. H. Codrington, _The Melanesians_, pp. 176 _sq._]\n\n[Footnote 609: R. H. Codrington, _op. cit._ pp. 177 _sq._]\n\n[Footnote 610: R. H. Codrington, _The Melanesians_, pp. 178-180.]\n\n[Footnote 611: R. H. Codrington, _op. cit._ p. 191.]\n\n[Footnote 612: R. H. Codrington, _op. cit._ p. 194.]\n\n[Footnote 613: R. H. Codrington, _The Melanesians_, pp. 194-196.]\n\n[Footnote 614: R. H. Codrington, _op. cit._ p. 196.]\n\n[Footnote 615: R. H. Codrington, _The Melanesians_, pp. 208 _sq._ As to\nsickness supposed to be caused by trespass on the premises of a ghost\nsee further _id._, pp. 194, 195, 218.]\n\n[Footnote 616: R. H. Codrington, _The Melanesians_, p. 184.]\n\n[Footnote 617: R. H. Codrington, _The Melanesians_, p. 200.]\n\n[Footnote 618: R. H. Codrington, _The Melanesians_, pp. 200, 201. The\nspirit whom the Florida wizard appeals to for good or bad weather is\ncalled a _vigona_; and the natives believe it to be always the ghost of\na dead man. But it seems very doubtful whether this opinion is strictly\ncorrect. See R. H. Codrington, _op cit._ pp. 124, 134.]\n\n[Footnote 619: R. H. Codrington, _op. cit._ p. 201. The Santa Cruz name\nfor such a ghost is _duka_ (_ibid._ p. 139).]\n\n[Footnote 620: Above, p. 375.]\n\n[Footnote 621: R. H. Codrington, _The Melanesians_, pp. 202-204.]\n\n[Footnote 622: R. H. Codrington, _The Melanesians_, pp. 205 _sq._]\n\n[Footnote 623: R. H. Codrington, _The Melanesians_, pp. 209 _sq._,\n218-220.]\n\n[Footnote 624: R. H. Codrington, _The Melanesians_, pp. 210.]\n\n[Footnote 625: R. H. Codrington, _The Melanesians_, pp. 211 _sq._]\n\n[Footnote 626: R. H. Codrington, _The Melanesians_, pp. 215 _sq._]\n\n\n\n\nLECTURE XVIII\n\nTHE BELIEF IN IMMORTALITY AMONG THE NATIVES OF NORTHERN AND EASTERN\nMELANESIA\n\n\n[Sidenote: Northern Melanesia. Material culture of the North\nMelanesians.]\n\nIn the last lecture I concluded my account of the belief in immortality\nand the worship of the dead among the natives of Central Melanesia.\nTo-day we pass to what may be called Northern Melanesia, by which is to\nbe understood the great archipelago lying to the north-east of New\nGuinea. It comprises the two large islands of New Britain and New\nIreland, now called New Pomerania and New Mecklenburg, with the much\nsmaller Duke of York Island lying between them, and the chain of New\nHanover and the Admiralty Islands stretching away westward from the\nnorth-western extremity of New Ireland. The whole of the archipelago,\ntogether with the adjoining island of Bougainville in the Solomon\nIslands, is now under German rule. The people belong to the same stock\nand speak the same language as the natives of Central and Southern\nMelanesia, and their level of culture is approximately the same. They\nlive in settled villages and subsist chiefly by the cultivation of the\nground, raising crops of taro, yams, bananas, sugar-cane, and so forth.\nMost of the agricultural labour is performed by the women, who plant,\nweed the ground, and carry the produce to the villages. The ground is,\nor rather used to be, dug by sharp-pointed sticks. The men hunt\ncassowaries, wallabies, and wild pigs, and they catch fish by both nets\nand traps. Women and children take part in the fishing and many of them\nbecome very expert in spearing fish. Among the few domestic animals\nwhich they keep are pigs, dogs, and fowls. The villages are generally\nsituated in the midst of a dense forest; but on the coast the natives\nbuild their houses not far from the beach as a precaution against the\nattacks of the forest tribes, of whom they stand greatly in fear. A New\nBritain village generally consists of a number of small communities or\nfamilies, each of which dwells in a separate enclosure. The houses are\nvery small and badly built, oblong in shape and very low. Between the\nseparate hamlets which together compose a village lie stretches of\nvirgin forest, through which run irregular and often muddy foot-tracks,\nscooped out here and there into mud-holes where the pigs love to wallow\nduring the heat of the tropical day. As the people of any one district\nused generally to be at war with their neighbours, it was necessary that\nthey should live together for the sake of mutual protection.[627]\n\n[Sidenote: Commercial habits of the North Melanesians. Their\nbackwardness in other respects.]\n\nNevertheless, in spite of their limited intercourse with surrounding\nvillages, the natives of the New Britain or the Bismarck Archipelago\nwere essentially a trading people. They made extensive use of shell\nmoney and fully recognised the value of any imported articles as mediums\nof exchange or currency. Markets were held on certain days at fixed\nplaces, where the forest people brought their yams, taro, bananas and so\nforth and exchanged them for fish, tobacco, and other articles with the\nnatives of the coast. They also went on long trading expeditions to\nprocure canoes, cuscus teeth, pigs, slaves, and so forth, which on their\nreturn they generally sold at a considerable profit. The shell which\nthey used as money is the _Nassa immersa_ or _Nassa calosa_, found on\nthe north coast of New Britain. The shells were perforated and threaded\non strips of cane, which were then joined together in coils of fifty to\ntwo hundred fathoms.[628] The rights of private property were fully\nrecognised. All lands belonged to certain families, and husband and wife\nhad each the exclusive right to his or her goods and chattels. But while\nin certain directions the people had made some progress, in others they\nremained very backward. Pottery and the metals were unknown; no metal or\nspecimen of metal-work has been found in the archipelago; on the other\nhand the natives made much use of stone implements, especially adzes and\nclubs. In war they never used bows and arrows.[629] They had no system\nof government, unless that name may be given to the power wielded by the\nsecret societies and by chiefs, who exercised a certain degree of\ninfluence principally by reason of the reputation which they enjoyed as\nsorcerers and magicians. They were not elected nor did they necessarily\ninherit their office; they simply claimed to possess magical powers, and\nif they succeeded in convincing the people of the justice of their\nclaim, their authority was recognised. Wealth also contributed to\nestablish their position in the esteem of the public.[630]\n\n[Sidenote: The Rev. George Brown on the Melanesians.]\n\nWith regard to the religious ideas and customs of the natives we are not\nfully informed, but so far as these have been described they appear to\nagree closely with those of their kinsfolk in Central Melanesia. The\nfirst European to settle in the archipelago was the veteran missionary,\nthe Rev. George Brown, D.D., who resided in the islands from 1875 to\n1880 and has revisited them on several occasions since; he reduced the\nlanguage to writing for the first time,[631] and is one of our best\nauthorities on the people. In what follows I shall make use of his\nvaluable testimony along with that of more recent observers.\n\n[Sidenote: North Melanesian theory of the soul. Fear of ghosts,\nespecially the ghosts of persons who have been killed and eaten.]\n\nThe natives of the archipelago believe that every person is animated by\na soul, which survives his death and may afterwards influence the\nsurvivors for good or evil. Their word for soul is _nio_ or _niono_,\nmeaning a shadow. The root is _nio_, which by the addition of personal\nsuffixes becomes _niong_ \"my soul or shadow,\" _niom_ \"your soul or\nshadow,\" _niono_ \"his soul or shadow.\" They think that the soul is like\nthe man himself, and that it always stays inside of his body, except\nwhen it goes out on a ramble during sleep or a faint. A man who is very\nsleepy may say, \"My soul wants to go away.\" They believe, however, that\nit departs for ever at death; hence when a man is sick, his friends will\noffer prayers to prevent its departure. There is only one kind of soul,\nbut it can appear in many shapes and enter into animals, such as rats,\nlizards, birds, and so on. It can hear, see, and speak, and present\nitself in the form of a wraith or apparition to people at the moment of\nor soon after death. On being asked why he thought that the soul does\nnot perish with the body, a native said, \"Because it is different; it is\nnot of the same nature at all.\" They believe that the souls of the dead\noccasionally visit the living and are seen by them, and that they haunt\nhouses and burial-places. They are very much afraid of the ghosts and do\nall they can to drive or frighten them away. Above all, being cannibals,\nthey stand in great fear of the ghosts of the people whom they have\nkilled and eaten. The man who is cutting up a human body takes care to\ntie a bandage over his mouth and nose during the operation of carving in\norder to prevent the enraged soul of the victim from entering into his\nbody by these apertures; and for a similar reason the doors of the\nhouses are shut while the cannibal feast is going on inside. And to keep\nthe victim's ghost quiet while his body is being devoured, a cut from a\njoint is very considerately placed on a tree outside of the house, so\nthat he may eat of his own flesh and be satisfied. At the conclusion of\nthe banquet, the people shout, brandish spears, beat the bushes, blow\nhorns, beat drums, and make all kinds of noises for the purpose of\nchasing the ghost or ghosts of the murdered and eaten men away from the\nvillage. But while they send away the souls, they keep the skulls and\njawbones of the victims; as many as thirty-five jawbones have been seen\nhanging in a single house in New Ireland. As for the skulls, they are,\nor rather were placed on the branch of a dead tree and so preserved on\nthe beach or near the house of the man who had taken them.[632]\n\n[Sidenote: Offerings to the souls of the dead.]\n\nWith regard to the death of their friends they deem it very important to\nobtain the bodies and bury them. They offer food to the souls of their\ndeparted kinsfolk for a long time after death, until all the funeral\nfeasts are over; but they do not hold annual festivals in honour of dead\nancestors. The food offered to the dead is laid every day on a small\nplatform in a tree; but the natives draw a distinction between offerings\nto the soul of a man who died a natural death and offerings to the soul\nof a man who was killed in a fight; for whereas they place the former on\na living tree, they deposit the latter on a dead tree. Moreover, they\nlay money, weapons, and property, often indeed the whole wealth of the\nfamily, near the corpse of their friend, in order that the soul of the\ndeceased may carry off the souls of these valuables to the spirit land.\nBut when the body is carried away to be buried, most of the property is\nremoved by its owners for their own use. However, the relations will\nsometimes detach a few shells from the coils of shell money and a few\nbeads from a necklace and drop them in a fire for the behoof of the\nghost. But when the deceased was a chief or other person of importance,\nsome of his property would be buried with him. And before burial his\nbody would be propped up on a special chair in front of his house,\nadorned with necklaces, wreaths of flowers and feathers, and gaudy with\nwar-paint. In one hand would be placed a large cooked yam, and in the\nother a spear, while a club would be put on his shoulder. The yam was to\nstay the pangs of hunger on his long journey, and the weapons were to\nenable him to fight the foes who might resist his entrance into the\nspirit land. In the Duke of York Island the corpse was usually disposed\nof by being sunk in a deep part of the lagoon; but sometimes it was\nburied in the house and a fire kept burning on the spot.[633]\n\n[Sidenote: Burial customs in New Ireland and New Britain. Preservation\nof the skull.]\n\nIn New Ireland the dead were rolled up in winding-sheets made of\npandanus leaves, then weighted with stones and buried at sea. However,\nat some places they were deposited in deep underground watercourses or\ncaverns. Towards the northern end of New Ireland corpses were burned on\nlarge piles of firewood in an open space of the village. A number of\nimages curiously carved out of wood or chalk were set round the blazing\npyre, but the meaning of these strange figures is uncertain. Men and\nwomen uttered the most piteous wailings, threw themselves on the top of\nthe corpse, and pulled at the arms and legs. This they did not merely to\nexpress their grief, but because they thought that if they saw and\nhandled the dead body while it was burning, the ghost could not or would\nnot haunt them afterwards.[634] Amongst the natives of the Gazelle\nPeninsula in New Britain the dead are generally buried in shallow graves\nin or near their houses. Some of the shell money which belonged to a man\nin life is buried with him. Women with blackened bodies sleep on the\ngrave for weeks.[635] When the deceased was a great chief, his corpse,\nalmost covered with shell money, is placed in a canoe, which is\ndeposited in a small house. Thereupon the nearest female relations are\nled into the house, and the door being walled up they are obliged to\nremain there with the rotting body until all the flesh has mouldered\naway. Food is passed in to them through a hole in the wall, and under no\npretext are they allowed to leave the hut before the decomposition of\nthe corpse is complete. When nothing of the late chief remains but a\nskeleton, the hut is opened and the solemn funeral takes place. The\nbones of the dead are buried, but his skull is hung up in the taboo\nhouse in order, we are told, that his ghost may remain in the\nneighbourhood of the village and see how his memory is honoured. After\nthe burial of the headless skeleton feasting and dancing go on, often\nfor more than a month, and the expenses are defrayed out of the riches\nleft by the deceased.[636] Even in the case of eminent persons who have\nbeen buried whole and entire in the usual way, a special mark of respect\nis sometimes paid to their memory by digging up their skulls after a\nyear or more, painting them red and white, decorating them with\nfeathers, and setting them up on a scaffold constructed for the\npurpose.[637]\n\n[Sidenote: Disposal of the dead among the Sulka of New Britain.]\n\nSomewhat similar is the disposal of the dead among the Sulka, a tribe of\nNew Britain who inhabit a mountainous and well-watered country to the\nsouth of the Gazelle Peninsula. When a Sulka dies, his plantation is\nlaid waste, and the young fruit-trees cut down, but the ripe fruits are\nfirst distributed among the living. His pigs are slaughtered and their\nflesh in like manner distributed, and his weapons are broken. If the\ndeceased was a rich man, his wife or wives will sometimes be killed. The\ncorpse is usually buried next morning. A hole is dug in the house and\nthe body deposited in it in a sitting posture. The upper part of the\ncorpse projects from the grave and is covered with a tower-like\nstructure of basket-work, which is stuffed with banana-leaves. Great\ncare is taken to preserve the body from touching the earth. Stones are\nlaid round about the structure and a fire kindled. Relations come and\nsleep for a time beside the corpse, men and women separately. Some while\nafterwards the soul of the deceased is driven away. The time for\ncarrying out the expulsion is settled by the people in whispers, lest\nthe ghost should overhear them and prepare for a stout resistance. The\nevening before the ceremony takes place many coco-nut leaves are\ncollected. Next morning, as soon as a certain bird (_Philemon\ncoquerelli_) is heard to sing, the people rise from their beds and set\nup a great cry. Then they beat the walls, shake the posts, set fire to\ndry coco-nut leaves, and finally rush out into the paths. At that\nmoment, so the people think, the soul of the dead quits the hut. When\nthe flesh of the corpse is quite decayed, the bones are taken from the\ngrave, sewed in leaves, and hung up. Soon afterwards a funeral feast is\nheld, at which men and women dance. For some time after a burial taro is\nplanted beside the house of death and enclosed with a fence. The Sulka\nthink that the ghost comes and gathers the souls of the taro. The ripe\nfruit is allowed to rot. Falling stars are supposed to be the souls of\nthe dead which have been hurled up aloft and are now descending to bathe\nin the sea. The trail of light behind them is thought to be a tail of\ncoco-nut leaves which other souls have fastened to them and set on fire.\nIn like manner the phosphorescent glow on the sea comes from souls\ndisporting themselves in the water. Persons who at their death left few\nrelations, or did evil in their life, or were murdered outside of the\nvillage, are not buried in the house. Their corpses are deposited on\nrocks or on scaffolds in the forest, or are interred on the spot where\nthey met their death. The reason for this treatment of their corpses is\nnot mentioned; but we may conjecture that their ghosts are regarded with\ncontempt, dislike, or fear, and that the survivors seek to give them a\nwide berth by keeping their bodies at a distance from the village. The\ncorpses of those who died suddenly are not buried but wrapt up in leaves\nand laid on a scaffold in the house, which is then shut up and deserted.\nThis manner of disposing of them seems also to indicate a dread or\ndistrust of their ghosts.[638]\n\n[Sidenote: Disposal of the dead among the Moanus of the Admiralty\nIslands. Prayers offered to the skull of a dead chief.]\n\nAmong the Moanus of the Admiralty Islands the dead are kept in the\nhouses unburied until the flesh is completely decayed and nothing\nremains but the bones. Old women then wash the skeleton carefully in\nsea-water, after which it is disjointed and divided. The backbone,\ntogether with the bones of the legs and upper arms, is deposited in one\nbasket and put away somewhere; the skull, together with the ribs and the\nbones of the lower arms, is deposited in another basket, which is sunk\nfor a time in the sea. When the bones are completely cleaned and\nbleached in the water, they are laid with sweet-smelling herbs in a\nwooden vessel and placed in the house which the dead man inhabited\nduring his life. But the teeth have been previously extracted from the\nskull and converted into a necklace for herself by the sister of the\ndeceased. After a time the ribs are distributed by the son among the\nrelatives. The principal widow gets two, other near kinsfolk get one\napiece, and they wear these relics under their arm-bands. The\ndistribution of the ribs is the occasion of a great festival, and it is\nfollowed some time afterwards by a still greater feast, for which\nextensive preparations are made long beforehand. All who intend to be\npresent at the ceremony send vessels of coco-nut oil in advance; and if\nthe deceased was a great chief the number of the oil vessels and of the\nguests may amount to two thousand. Meantime the giver of the feast\ncauses a scaffold to be erected for the reception of the skull, and the\nwhole art of the wood-carver is exhausted in decorating the scaffold\nwith figures of turtles, birds, and so forth, while a wooden dog acts as\nsentinel at either end. When the multitude has assembled, and the\norchestra of drums, collected from the whole neighbourhood, has sent\nforth a far-sounding crash of music, the giver of the feast steps\nforward and pronounces a florid eulogium on the deceased, a warm\npanegyric on the guests who have honoured him by their presence, and a\nfluent invective against his absent foes. Nor does he forget to throw in\nsome delicate allusions to his own noble generosity in providing the\nassembled visitors with this magnificent entertainment. For this great\neffort of eloquence the orator has been primed in the morning by the\nsorcerer. The process of priming consists in kneeling on the orator's\nshoulders and tugging at the hair of his head with might and main, which\nis clearly calculated to promote the flow of his rhetoric. If none of\nthe hair comes out in the sorcerer's hands, a masterpiece of oratory is\nconfidently looked forward to in the afternoon. When the speech, for\nwhich such painful preparations have been made, is at last over, the\ndrums again strike up. No sooner have their booming notes died away over\nland and sea, than the sorcerer steps up to the scaffold, takes from it\nthe bleached skull, and holds it in both his hands. Then the giver of\nthe feast goes up to him, dips a bunch of dracaena leaves in a vessel of\noil, and smites the skull with it, saying, \"Thou art my father!\" At that\nthe drums again beat loudly. Then he strikes the skull a second time\nwith the leaves, saying, \"Take the food that has been made ready in\nthine honour!\" And again there is a crash of drums. After that he smites\nthe skull yet again and prays saying, \"Guard me! Guard my people! Guard\nmy children!\" And every prayer of the litany is followed by the solemn\nroll of the drums. When these impressive invocations to the spirit of\nthe dead chief are over, the feasting begins. The skull is thenceforth\ncarefully preserved.[639]\n\n[Sidenote: Disposal of the dead in the Kaniet Islands. Preservation of\nthe skull.]\n\nIn the Kaniet Islands, a small group to the north-west of the Admiralty\nIslands, the dead are either sunk in the sea or buried in shallow\ngraves, face downward, near the house. All the movable property of the\ndeceased is piled on the grave, left there for three weeks, and then\nburnt. Afterwards the skull is dug up, placed in a basket, and having\nbeen decorated with leaves and feathers is hung up in the house. Thus\nadorned it not only serves to keep the dead in memory, but is also\nemployed in many conjurations to defeat the nefarious designs of other\nghosts, who are believed to work most of the ills that afflict\nhumanity.[640] Apparently these islanders employ a ghost to protect them\nagainst ghosts on the principle of setting a thief to catch a thief.\n\n[Sidenote: Death attributed to witchcraft.]\n\nAmongst the natives of the Bismarck Archipelago few persons, if any, are\nbelieved to die from natural causes alone; if they are not killed in war\nthey are commonly supposed to perish by witchcraft or sorcery, even when\nthe cause of death might seem to the uninstructed European to be\nsufficiently obvious in such things as exposure to heavy rain, the\ncarrying of too heavy a burden, or remaining too long a time under\nwater. So when a man has died, his friends are anxious to discover who\nhas bewitched him to death. In this enquiry the ghost is expected to\nlend his assistance. Thus on the night after the decease the friends\nwill assemble outside the house, and a sorcerer will address the ghost\nand request him to name the author of his death. If the ghost, as\nsometimes happens, makes no reply, the sorcerer will jog his memory by\ncalling out the name of some suspected person; and should the ghost\nstill be silent, the wizard will name another and another, till at the\nmention of one name a tapping sound is heard like the drumming of\nfingers on a board or on a mat The sound may proceed from the house or\nfrom a pearl shell which the sorcerer holds in his hand; but come from\nwhere it may, it is taken as a certain proof that the man who has just\nbeen named did the deed, and he is dealt with accordingly. Many a poor\nwretch in New Britain has been killed and eaten on no other evidence\nthan that of the fatal tapping.[641]\n\n[Sidenote: Burial customs in the Duke of York Island. Preservation of\nthe skull.]\n\nWhen a man of mark is buried in the Duke of York Island, the masters of\nsorcery take leaves, spit on them, and throw them, with a number of\npoisonous things, into the grave, uttering at the same time loud\nimprecations on the wicked enchanter who has killed their friend. Then\nthey go and bathe, and returning they fall to cursing again; and if the\nmiscreant survived the first imprecations, it is regarded as perfectly\ncertain that he will fall a victim to the second. Sometimes, when the\ndeceased was a chief distinguished for bravery and wisdom, his corpse\nwould be exposed on a high platform in front of his house and left there\nto rot, while his relatives sat around and inhaled the stench,\nconceiving that with it they absorbed the courage and skill of the\ndeparted worthy. Some of them would even anoint their bodies with the\ndrippings from the putrefying corpse for the same purpose. The women\nalso made fires that the ghost might warm himself at them. When the head\nbecame detached from the trunk, it was carefully preserved by the next\nof kin, while the other remains were buried in a shallow grave in the\nhouse. All the female relatives blackened their dusky faces for a long\ntime, after which the skull was put on a platform, a great feast was\nheld, and dances were performed for many nights in its honour. Then at\nlast the spirit of the dead man, which till that time was supposed to be\nlingering about his old abode, took his departure, and his friends\ntroubled themselves about him no more.[642]\n\n[Sidenote: Prayers to the spirits of the dead.]\n\nThe souls of the dead are always regarded by these people as beings\nwhose help can be invoked on special occasions, such as fighting or\nfishing or any other matter of importance; and since the spirits whom\nthey invoke are always those of their own kindred they are presumed to\nbe friendly to the petitioners. The objects for which formal prayers are\naddressed to the souls of ancestors appear to be always temporal\nbenefits, such as victory over enemies and plenty of food; prayers for\nthe promotion of moral virtue are seemingly unknown. For example, if a\nwoman laboured hard in childbirth, she was thought to be bewitched, and\nprayers would be offered to the spirits of dead ancestors to counteract\nthe spell. Again, young men are instructed by their elders in the useful\nart of cursing the enemies of the tribe; and among a rich variety of\nimprecations an old man will invoke the spirit of his brother, father,\nor uncle, or all of them, to put their fingers into the ears of the\nenemy that he may not hear, to cover his eyes that he may not see, and\nto stop his mouth that he may not cry for help, but may fall an easy\nprey to the curser and his friends.[643] More amiable and not less\neffectual are the prayers offered to the spirits of the dead over a sick\nman. At the mention of each name in the prayer the supplicants make a\nchirping or hissing sound, and rub lime over the patient. Before\nadministering medicine they pray over it to the spirits of the dead;\nthen the patient gulps it down, thus absorbing the virtue of the\nmedicine and of the prayer in one. In New Britain they reinforce the\nprayers to the dead in time of need by wearing the jawbone of the\ndeceased; and in the Duke of York Island people often wear a tooth or\nsome hair of a departed relative, not merely as a mark of respect, but\nas a magical means of obtaining supernatural help.[644]\n\n[Sidenote: North Melanesian views as to the land of the dead.]\n\nSooner or later the souls of all the North Melanesian dead take their\ndeparture for the spirit land. But the information which has reached the\nliving as to that far country is at once vague and inconsistent. They\ncall it _Matana nion_, but whereabout it lies they cannot for the most\npart precisely tell. All they know for certain is that it is far away,\nand that there is always some particular spot in the neighbourhood from\nwhich the souls take their departure; for example, the Duke of York\nghosts invariably start from the little island of Nuruan, near Mioko.\nWherever it may be, the land of souls is divided into compartments;\npeople who have died of sickness or witchcraft go to one place, and\npeople who have been killed in battle go to another. They do not go\nunattended; for when a man dies two friends sleep beside his corpse the\nfirst night, one on each side, and their spirits are believed to\naccompany the soul of the dead man to the spirit land. They say that on\ntheir arrival in the far country, betel-nut is presented to them all,\nbut the two living men refuse to partake of it, because they know that\nwere they to eat it they would return no more to the land of the living.\nWhen they do return, they have often, as might be expected, strange\ntales to tell of what they saw among the ghosts. The principal personage\nin the other world is called the \"keeper of souls.\" It is said that once\non a time the masterful ghost of a dead chief attempted to usurp the\npost of warden of the dead; in pursuance of this ambitious project he\nattacked the warden with a tomahawk and cut off one of his legs, but the\namputated limb immediately reunited itself with the body; and a second\namputation was followed by the same disappointing result. Life in the\nother world is reported to be very like life in this world. Some people\nfind it very dismal, and others very beautiful. Those who were rich here\nwill be rich there, and those who were poor on earth will be poor in\nHades. As to any moral retribution which may overtake evil-doers in the\nlife to come, their ideas are very vague; only they are sure that the\nghosts of the niggardly will be punished by being dumped very hard\nagainst the buttress-roots of chestnut-trees. They say, too, that all\nbreaches of etiquette or of the ordinary customs of the country will\nmeet with certain appropriate punishments in the spirit land. When the\nsoul has thus done penance, it takes possession of the body of some\nanimal, for instance, the flying-fox. Hence a native is much alarmed if\nhe should be sitting under a tree from which a flying-fox has been\nfrightened away. Should anything drop from the bat or from the tree on\nwhich it was hanging, he would look on it as an omen of good or ill\naccording to the nature of the thing which fell on or near him. If it\nwere useless or dirty, he would certainly apprehend some serious\nmisfortune. Sometimes when a man dies and his soul arrives in the spirit\nland, his friends do not want him there and drive him back to earth, so\nhe comes to life again. That is the explanation which the natives give\nof what we call the recovery of consciousness after a faint or\nswoon.[645]\n\n[Sidenote: The land of the dead. State of the dead in the other world\nsupposed to depend on the amount of money they left in this one.]\n\nSome of the natives of the Gazelle Peninsula in New Britain imagine that\nthe home of departed spirits is in Nakanei, the part of the coast to\nwhich they sail to get their shell money. Others suppose that it is in\nthe islands off Cape Takes. So when they are sailing past these islands\nthey dip the paddles softly in the water, and observe a death-like\nstillness, cowering down in the canoes, lest the ghosts should spy them\nand do them a mischief. At the entrance to these happy isles is posted a\nstern watchman to see that no improper person sneaks into them. To every\nghost that arrives he puts three questions, \"Who are you? Where do you\ncome from? How much shell money did you leave behind you?\" On his\nanswers to these three questions hangs the fate of the ghost. If he left\nmuch money, he is free to enter the realm of bliss, where he will pass\nthe time with other happy souls smoking and eating and enjoying other\nsensual delights. But if he left little or no money, he is banished the\nearthly paradise and sent home to roam like a wild beast in the forest,\nbattening on leaves and filth. With bitter sighs and groans he prowls\nabout the villages at night and seeks to avenge himself by scaring or\nplaguing the survivors. To stay his hunger and appease his wrath\nrelatives or friends will sometimes set forth food for him to devour.\nYet even for such an impecunious soul there is hope; for if somebody\nonly takes pity on him and gives a feast in his honour and distributes\nshell money to the guests, the ghost may return to the islands of the\nblest, and the door will be thrown open to him.[646]\n\n[Sidenote: Fiji and the Fijians.]\n\nSo much for the belief in immortality as it is reported to exist among\nthe Northern Melanesians of New Britain and the Bismarck Archipelago. We\nnow pass to the consideration of a similar belief among another people\nof the same stock, who have been longer known to Europe, the Fijians.\nThe archipelago which they occupy lies to the east of the New Hebrides\nand forms in fact the most easterly outpost of the black Melanesian race\nin the Pacific. Beyond it to the eastward are situated the smaller\narchipelagoes of Samoa and Tonga, inhabited by branches of the brown\nPolynesian race, whose members are scattered over the islands of the\nPacific Ocean from Hawaii in the north to New Zealand in the south. Of\nall the branches of the Melanesian stock the Fijians at the date of\ntheir discovery by Europeans appear to have made the greatest advance in\nculture, material, social, and political. \"The Fijian,\" says one who\nknew him long and intimately, \"takes no mean place among savages in the\nsocial scale. Long before the white man visited his shores he had made\nvery considerable progress towards civilisation. His intersexual code\nhad advanced to the 'patriarchal stage': he was a skilful and diligent\nhusbandman, who carried out extensive and laborious agricultural\noperations: he built good houses, whose interior he ornamented with no\nlittle taste, carved his weapons in graceful and intricate forms,\nmanufactured excellent pottery, beat out from the inner bark of a tree a\nserviceable papyrus-cloth, upon which he printed, from blocks either\ncarved or ingeniously pieced together, elegant and elaborate patterns in\nfast colours; and, with tools no better than a stone hatchet, a pointed\nshell, and a firestick, he constructed large canoes capable of carrying\nmore than a hundred warriors across the open sea.\"[647]\n\n[Sidenote: Political superiority of the Fijians over the other\nMelanesians.]\n\nPolitically the Fijians shewed their superiority to all the other\nMelanesians in the advance they had made towards a regular and organised\ngovernment. While among the other branches of the same race government\ncan hardly be said to exist, the power of chiefs being both slender and\nprecarious, in Fiji the highest chiefs exercised despotic sway and\nreceived from Europeans the title of kings. The people had no voice in\nthe state; the will of the king was generally law, and his person was\nsacred. Whatever he touched or wore became thereby holy and had to be\nmade over to him; nobody else could afterwards touch it without danger\nof being struck dead on the spot as if by an electric shock. One king\ntook advantage of this superstition by dressing up an English sailor in\nhis royal robes and sending him about to throw his sweeping train over\nany article of food, whether dead or alive, which he might chance to\ncome near. The things so touched were at once conveyed to the king\nwithout a word of explanation being required or a single remonstrance\nuttered. Some of the kings laid claim to a divine origin and on the\nstrength of the claim exacted and received from their subjects the\nrespect due to deities. In these exorbitant pretensions they were\ngreatly strengthened by the institution of taboo, which lent the\nsanction of religion to every exertion of arbitrary power.[648]\nCorresponding with the growth of monarchy was the well-marked gradation\nof social ranks which prevailed in the various tribes from the king\ndownwards through chiefs, warriors, and landholders, to slaves. The\nresulting political constitution has been compared to the old feudal\nsystem of Europe.[649]\n\n[Sidenote: Means of subsistence of the Fijians. Ferocity and depravity\nof the Fijians.]\n\nLike the other peoples of the Melanesian stock the Fijians subsist\nchiefly by agriculture, raising many sorts of esculent fruits and roots,\nparticularly yams, taro, plantains, bread-fruit, sweet potatoes,\nbananas, coco-nuts, ivi nuts, and sugar-cane; but the chief proportion\nof their food is derived from yams (_Dioscorea_), of which they\ncultivate five or six varieties.[650] It has been observed that \"the\nincrease of cultivated plants is regular on receding from the Hawaiian\ngroup up to Fiji, where roots and fruits are found that are unknown on\nthe more eastern islands.\"[651] Yet the Fijians in their native state,\nlike all other Melanesian and Polynesian peoples, were entirely ignorant\nof the cereals; and in the opinion of a competent observer the\nconsequent defect in their diet has contributed to the serious defects\nin their national character. The cereals, he tells us, are the staple\nfood of all races that have left their mark in history; and on the other\nhand \"the apathy and indolence of the Fijians arise from their climate,\ntheir diet and their communal institutions. The climate is too kind to\nstimulate them to exertion, their food imparts no staying power. The\nsoil gives the means of existence for every man without effort, and the\ncommunal institutions destroy the instinct of accumulation.\"[652] Nor\nare apathy and indolence the only or the worst features in the character\nof these comparatively advanced savages. Their ferocity, cruelty, and\nmoral depravity are depicted in dark colours by those who had the best\nopportunity of knowing them in the old days before their savagery was\nmitigated by contact with a milder religious faith and a higher\ncivilisation. \"In contemplating the character of this extraordinary\nportion of mankind,\" says one observer, \"the mind is struck with wonder\nand awe at the mixture of a complicated and carefully conducted\npolitical system, highly finished manners, and ceremonious politeness,\nwith a ferocity and practice of savage vices which is probably\nunparalleled in any other part of the world.\"[653] One of the first\ncivilised men to gain an intimate acquaintance with the Fijians draws a\nmelancholy contrast between the baseness and vileness of the people and\nthe loveliness of the land in which they live.[654]\n\n[Sidenote: Scenery of the Fijian islands.]\n\nFor the Fijian islands are exceedingly beautiful. They are of volcanic\norigin, mostly high and mountainous, but intersected by picturesque\nvalleys, clothed with woods, and festooned with the most luxuriant\ntropical vegetation. \"Among their attractions,\" we are told, \"are high\nmountains, abrupt precipices, conical hills, fantastic turrets and crags\nof rock frowning down like olden battlements, vast domes, peaks\nshattered into strange forms; native towns on eyrie cliffs, apparently\ninaccessible; and deep ravines, down which some mountain stream, after\nlong murmuring in its stony bed, falls headlong, glittering as a silver\nline on a block of jet, or spreading like a sheet of glass over bare\nrocks which refuse it a channel. Here also are found the softer features\nof rich vales, cocoa-nut groves, clumps of dark chestnuts, stately palms\nand bread-fruit, patches of graceful bananas or well-tilled taro-beds,\nmingling in unchecked luxuriance, and forming, with the wild\nreef-scenery of the girdling shore, its beating surf, and far-stretching\nocean beyond, pictures of surpassing beauty.\"[655] Each island is\nencircled by a reef of white coral, on which the sea breaks, with a\nthunderous roar, in curling sheets of foam; while inside the reef\nstretches the lagoon, a calm lake of blue crystalline water revealing in\nits translucent depths beautiful gardens of seaweed and coral which fill\nthe beholder with delighted wonder. Great and sudden is the contrast\nexperienced by the mariner when he passes in a moment from the tossing,\nheaving, roaring billows without into the unbroken calm of the quiet\nhaven within the barrier reef.[656]\n\n[Sidenote: Fijian doctrine of souls.]\n\nLike most savages, the Fijians believed that man is animated by a soul\nwhich quits his body temporarily in sleep and permanently at death, to\nsurvive for a longer or a shorter time in a disembodied state\nthereafter. Indeed, they attributed souls to animals, vegetables,\nstones, tools, houses, canoes, and many other things, allowing that all\nof them may become immortal.[657] On this point I will quote the\nevidence of one of the earliest and best authorities on the customs and\nbeliefs of the South Sea Islanders. \"There seems,\" says William Mariner,\n\"to be a wide difference between the opinions of the natives in the\ndifferent clusters of the South Sea islands respecting the future\nexistence of the soul. Whilst the Tonga doctrine limits immortality to\nchiefs, _matabooles_, and at most, to _mooas_, the Fiji doctrine, with\nabundant liberality, extends it to all mankind, to all brute animals, to\nall vegetables, and even to stones and mineral substances. If an animal\nor a plant die, its soul immediately goes to Bolotoo; if a stone or any\nother substance is broken, immortality is equally its reward; nay,\nartificial bodies have equal good luck with men, and hogs, and yams. If\nan axe or a chisel is worn out or broken up, away flies its soul for the\nservice of the gods. If a house is taken down, or any way destroyed, its\nimmortal part will find a situation on the plains of Bolotoo; and, to\nconfirm this doctrine, the Fiji people can show you a sort of natural\nwell, or deep hole in the ground, at one of their islands, across the\nbottom of which runs a stream of water, in which you may clearly\nperceive the souls of men and women, beasts and plants, of stocks and\nstones, canoes and houses, and of all the broken utensils of this frail\nworld, swimming or rather tumbling along one over the other pell-mell\ninto the regions of immortality. Such is the Fiji philosophy, but the\nTonga people deny it, unwilling to think that the residence of the gods\nshould be encumbered with so much useless rubbish. The natives of\nOtaheite entertain similar notions respecting these things, viz. that\nbrutes, plants, and stones exist hereafter, but it is not mentioned that\nthey extend the idea to objects of human invention.\"[658]\n\n[Sidenote: Reported Fijian doctrine of two human souls, a light one and\na dark one.]\n\nAccording to one account, the Fijians imagined that every man has two\nsouls, a dark soul, consisting of his shadow, and a light soul,\nconsisting of his reflection in water or a looking-glass: the dark soul\ndeparts at death to Hades, while the light soul stays near the place\nwhere he died or was killed. \"Probably,\" says Thomas Williams, \"this\ndoctrine of shadows has to do with the notion of inanimate objects\nhaving spirits. I once placed a good-looking native suddenly before a\nmirror. He stood delighted. 'Now,' said he, softly, 'I can see into the\nworld of spirits.'\"[659] However, according to another good authority\nthis distinction of two human souls rests merely on a misapprehension of\nthe Fijian word for shadow, _yaloyalo_, which is a reduplication of\n_yalo_, the word for soul.[660] Apparently the Fijians pictured to\nthemselves the human soul as a miniature of the man himself. This may be\ninferred from the customs observed at the death of a chief among the\nNakelo tribe. When a chief dies, certain men who are the hereditary\nundertakers call him, as he lies, oiled and ornamented, on fine mats,\nsaying, \"Rise, sir, the chief, and let us be going. The day has come\nover the land.\" Then they conduct him to the river side, where the\nghostly ferryman comes to ferry Nakelo ghosts across the stream. As they\nattend the chief on his last journey, they hold their great fans close\nto the ground to shelter him, because, as one of them explained to a\nmissionary, \"His soul is only a little child.\"[661]\n\n[Sidenote: Absence of the soul in sleep. Catching the soul of a rascal\nin a scarf.]\n\nThe souls of some men were supposed to quit their bodies in sleep and\nenter into the bodies of other sleepers, troubling and disturbing them.\nA soul that had contracted this bad habit was called a _yalombula_. When\nany one fainted or died, his vagrant spirit might, so the Fijians\nthought, be induced to come back by calling after it. Sometimes, on\nawaking from a nap, a stout man might be seen lying at full length and\nbawling out lustily for the return of his own soul.[662] In the windward\nislands of Fiji there used to be an ordeal called _yalovaki_ which was\nmuch dreaded by evil-doers. When the evidence was strong against\nsuspected criminals, and they stubbornly refused to confess, the chief,\nwho was also the judge, would call for a scarf, with which \"to catch\naway the soul of the rogue.\" A threat of the rack could not have been\nmore effectual. The culprit generally confessed at the sight and even\nthe mention of the light instrument; but if he did not, the scarf would\nbe waved over his head until his soul was caught in it like a moth or a\nfly, after which it would be carefully folded up and nailed to the small\nend of a chief's canoe, and for want of his soul the suspected person\nwould pine and die.[663]\n\n[Sidenote: Fijian dread of sorcery and witchcraft.]\n\nFurther, the Fijians, like many other savages, stood in great terror of\nwitchcraft, believing that the sorcerer had it in his power to kill them\nby the practice of his nefarious art. \"Of all their superstitions,\" says\nThomas Williams, \"this exerts the strongest influence on the minds of\nthe people. Men who laugh at the pretensions of the priest tremble at\nthe power of the wizard; and those who become christians lose this fear\nlast of all the relics of their heathenism.\"[664] Indeed \"native agents\nof the mission who, in the discharge of their duty, have boldly faced\ndeath by open violence, have been driven from their posts by their dread\nof the sorcerer; and my own observation confirms the statement of more\nthan one observer that savages not unfrequently die of fear when they\nthink themselves bewitched.\"[665] Professed practitioners of witchcraft\nwere dreaded by all classes, and by destroying mutual confidence they\nannulled the comfort and shook the security of society. Almost all\nsudden deaths were set down to their machinations. A common mode of\neffecting their object was to obtain a shred of the clothing of the man\nthey intended to bewitch, some refuse of his food, a lock of his hair,\nor some other personal relic; having got it they wrapped it up in\ncertain leaves, and then cooked or buried it or hung it up in the\nforest; whereupon the victim was supposed to die of a wasting disease.\nAnother way was to bury a coco-nut, with the eye upward, beneath the\nhearth of the temple, on which a fire was kept constantly burning; and\nas the life of the nut was destroyed, so the health of the person whom\nthe nut represented would fail till death put an end to his sufferings.\n\"The native imagination,\" we are told, \"is so absolutely under the\ncontrol of fear of these charms, that persons, hearing that they were\nthe object of such spells, have lain down on their mats, and died\nthrough fear.\"[666] To guard against the fell craft of the magician the\npeople resorted to many precautions. A man who suspected another of\nplotting against him would be careful not to eat in his presence or at\nall events to leave no morsel of food behind, lest the other should\nsecrete it and bewitch him by it; and for the same reason people\ndisposed of their garments so that no part could be removed; and when\nthey had their hair cut they generally hid the clippings in the thatch\nof their own houses. Some even built themselves a small hut and\nsurrounded it with a moat, believing that a little water had power to\nneutralise the charms directed against them.[667]\n\n[Sidenote: The fear of sorcery has had the beneficial effect of\nenforcing habits of personal cleanliness.]\n\n\"In the face of such instances as these,\" says one who knows the Fijians\nwell, \"it demands some courage to assert that upon the whole the belief\nin witchcraft was formerly a positive advantage to the community. It\nfilled, in fact, the place of a system of sanitation. The wizard's tools\nconsisting in those waste matters that are inimical to health, every man\nwas his own scavenger. From birth to old age a man was governed by this\none fear; he went into the sea, the graveyard or the depths of the\nforest to satisfy his natural wants; he burned his cast-off _malo_; he\ngave every fragment left over from his food to the pigs; he concealed\neven the clippings of his hair in the thatch of his house. This\never-present fear even drove women in the western districts out into the\nforest for the birth of their children, where fire destroyed every trace\nof their lying-in. Until Christianity broke it down, the villages were\nkept clean; there were no festering rubbish-heaps nor filthy\n_raras_.\"[668]\n\n[Sidenote: Fijian dread of ghosts. Uproar made to drive away ghosts.]\n\nOf apparitions the Fijians used to be very much afraid. They believed\nthat the ghosts of the dead appeared often and afflicted mankind,\nespecially in sleep. The spirits of slain men, unchaste women, and women\nwho died in childbed were most dreaded. After a death people have been\nknown to hide themselves for a few days, until they supposed the soul of\nthe departed was at rest. Also they shunned the places where people had\nbeen murdered, particularly when it rained, because then the moans of\nthe ghost could be heard as he sat up, trying to relieve his pain by\nresting his poor aching head on the palms of his hands. Some however\nsaid that the moans were caused by the soul of the murderer knocking\ndown the soul of his victim, whenever the wretched spirit attempted to\nget up.[669] When Fijians passed a spot in the forest where a man had\nbeen clubbed to death, they would sometimes throw leaves on it as a mark\nof homage to his spirit, believing that they would soon be killed\nthemselves if they failed in thus paying their respects to the\nghost.[670] And after they had buried a man alive, as they very often\ndid, these savages used at nightfall to make a great din with large\nbamboos, trumpet-shells, and so forth, in order to drive away his spirit\nand deter him from loitering about his old home. \"The uproar is always\nheld in the late habitation of the deceased, the reason being that as no\none knows for a certainty what reception he will receive in the\ninvisible world, if it is not according to his expectations he will most\nlikely repent of his bargain and wish to come back. For that reason they\nmake a great noise to frighten him away, and dismantle his former\nhabitation of everything that is attractive, and clothe it with\neverything that to their ideas seems repulsive.\"[671]\n\n[Sidenote: Killing a ghost.]\n\nHowever, stronger measures were sometimes resorted to. It was believed\nto be possible to kill a troublesome ghost. Once it happened that many\nchiefs feasted in the house of Tanoa, King of Ambau. In the course of\nthe evening one of them related how he had slain a neighbouring chief.\nThat very night, having occasion to leave the house, he saw, as he\nbelieved, the ghost of his victim, hurled his club at him, and killed\nhim stone dead. On his return to the house he roused the king and the\nrest of the inmates from their slumbers, and recounted his exploit. The\nmatter was deemed of high importance, and they all sat on it in solemn\nconclave. Next morning a search was made for the club on the scene of\nthe murder; it was found and carried with great pomp and parade to the\nnearest temple, where it was laid up for a perpetual memorial. Everybody\nwas firmly persuaded that by this swashing blow the ghost had been not\nonly killed but annihilated.[672]\n\n[Sidenote: Dazing the ghost of a grandfather.]\n\nA more humane method of dealing with an importunate ghost used to be\nadopted in Vanua-levu, the largest but one of the Fijian islands. In\nthat island, as a consequence, it is said, of reckoning kinship through\nthe mother, a child was considered to be more closely related to his\ngrandfather than to his father. Hence when a grandfather died, his ghost\nnaturally desired to carry off the soul of his grandchild with him to\nthe spirit land. The wish was creditable to the warmth of his domestic\naffection, but if the survivors preferred to keep the child with them a\nlittle longer in this vale of tears, they took steps to baffle\ngrandfather's ghost. For this purpose when the old man's body was\nstretched on the bier and raised on the shoulders of half-a-dozen stout\nyoung fellows, the mother's brother would take the grandchild in his\narms and begin running round and round the corpse. Round and round he\nran, and grandfather's ghost looked after him, craning his neck from\nside to side and twisting it round and round in the vain attempt to\nfollow the rapid movements of the runner. When the ghost was supposed to\nbe quite giddy with this unwonted exercise, the mother's brother made a\nsudden dart away with the child in his arms, the bearers fairly bolted\nwith the corpse to the grave, and before he could collect his scattered\nwits grandfather was safely landed in his long home.[673]\n\n[Sidenote: Special relation of grandfather to grandchild. Soul of a\ngrandfather reborn in his grandchildren.]\n\nMr. Fison, who reports this quaint mode of bilking a ghost, explains the\nspecial attachment of the grandfather to his grandchild by the rule of\nfemale descent which survives in Vanua-levu; and it is true that where\nexogamy prevails along with female descent, a child regularly belongs to\nthe exogamous class of its grandfather and not of its father and hence\nmay be regarded as more closely akin to the grandfather than to the\nfather. But on the other hand it is to be observed that exogamy at\npresent is unknown in Fiji, and at most its former prevalence in the\nislands can only be indirectly inferred from relics of totemism and from\nthe existence of the classificatory system of relationship.[674] Perhaps\nthe real reason why in Vanua-levu a dead grandfather is so anxious to\ncarry off the soul of his living grandchild lies nearer to hand in the\napparently widespread belief that the soul of the grandfather is\nactually reborn in his grandchild. For example, in Nukahiva, one of the\nMarquesas Islands, every one \"is persuaded that the soul of a\ngrandfather is transmitted by nature into the body of his grandchildren;\nand that, if an unfruitful wife were to place herself under the corpse\nof her deceased grandfather, she would be sure to become pregnant.\"[675]\nAgain, the Kayans of Borneo \"believe in the reincarnation of the soul,\nalthough this belief is not clearly harmonised with the belief in the\nlife in another world. It is generally believed that the soul of a\ngrandfather may pass into one of his grandchildren, and an old man will\ntry to secure the passage of his soul to a favourite grandchild by\nholding it above his head from time to time. The grandfather usually\ngives up his name to his eldest grandson, and reassumes the original\nname of his childhood with the prefix or title _Laki_, and the custom\nseems to be connected with this belief or hope.\"[676]\n\n[Sidenote: A dead grandfather may reasonably reclaim his own soul from\nhis grandchild.]\n\nNow where such a belief is held, it seems reasonable enough that a dead\ngrandfather should reclaim his own soul for his personal use before he\nsets out for the spirit land; else how could he expect to be admitted to\nthat blissful abode if on arriving at the portal he were obliged to\nexplain to the porter that he had no soul about him, having left that\nindispensable article behind in the person of his grandchild? \"Then you\nhad better go back and fetch it. There is no admission at this gate for\npeople without souls.\" Such might very well be the porter's retort; and\nforeseeing it any man of ordinary prudence would take the precaution of\nrecovering his lost spiritual property before presenting himself to the\nWarden of the Dead. This theory would sufficiently account for the\notherwise singular behaviour of grandfather's ghost in Vanua-levu. At\nthe same time it must be admitted that the theory of the reincarnation\nof a grandfather in a grandson would be suggested more readily in a\nsociety where the custom of exogamy was combined with female descent\nthan in one where the same custom coexisted with male descent; since,\ngiven exogamy and female descent, grandfather and grandson regularly\nbelong to the same exogamous class, whereas father and son never do\nso.[677] Thus Mr. Fison may after all be right in referring the\npartiality of a Fijian grandfather for his grandson in the last resort\nto a system of exogamy and female kinship.\n\n[Footnote 627: G. Brown, D.D., _Melanesians and Polynesians_ (London,\n1910), pp. 23 _sq._, 125, 320 _sqq._]\n\n[Footnote 628: G. Brown, _op. cit._ pp. 294 _sqq._; P. A. Kleintitschen,\n_Die Kuestenbewohner der Gazellehalbinsel_ (Hiltrup bei Muenster, N.D.),\npp. 90 _sqq._ The shell money is called _tambu_ in New Britain, _diwara_\nin the Duke of York Island, and _aringit_ in New Ireland.]\n\n[Footnote 629: Rev. G. Brown, _op. cit._ pp. 307, 313, 435, 436.]\n\n[Footnote 630: Rev. G. Brown, _op. cit._ pp. 270 _sq._, compare pp. 127,\n200.]\n\n[Footnote 631: Rev. G. Brown, _op. cit._ pp. v., 18.]\n\n[Footnote 632: G. Brown, _op. cit._ pp. 141 _sq._, 144, 145, 190-193.]\n\n[Footnote 633: G. Brown, _op. cit._ pp. 142, 192, 385, 386 _sq._]\n\n[Footnote 634: G. Brown, _op. cit._ p. 390. The custom of cremating the\ndead in New Ireland is described more fully by Mr. R. Parkinson, who\nsays that the life-sized figures which are burned with the corpse\nrepresent the deceased (_Dreissig Jahre in der Suedsee_, pp. 273 _sqq._).\nIn the central part of New Ireland the dead are buried in the earth;\nafterwards the bones are dug up and thrown into the sea. See Albert\nHahl, \"Das mittlere Neumecklenburg,\" _Globus_, xci. (1907) p. 314.]\n\n[Footnote 635: R. Parkinson, _Dreissig Jahre in der Suedsee_ (Stuttgart,\n1907) p. 78; P. A. Kleintitschen, _Die Kuestenbewohner der\nGazellehalbinsel_ (Hiltrup bei Muenster, N.D.), p. 222.]\n\n[Footnote 636: Mgr. Couppe, \"En Nouvelle-Pomeranie,\" _Les Missions\nCatholiques_, xxiii. (1891) pp. 364 _sq._; J. Graf Pfeil, _Studien und\nBeobachtungen aus der Suedsee_ (Brunswick, 1899), p. 79.]\n\n[Footnote 637: R. Parkinson, _op. cit._ p. 81.]\n\n[Footnote 638: _P._ Rascher, _M.S.C._, \"Die Sulka, ein Beitrag zur\nEthnographic Neu-Pommern,\" _Archiv fuer Anthropologie_, xxix. (1904) pp.\n214 _sq._, 216; R. Parkinson, _Dreissig Jahre in der Suedsee_, pp.\n185-187.]\n\n[Footnote 639: R. Parkinson, _Dreissig Jahre in der Suedsee_, pp.\n404-406.]\n\n[Footnote 640: R. Parkinson, _op. cit._ pp. 441 _sq._]\n\n[Footnote 641: G. Brown, _op. cit._ pp. 176, 183, 385 _sq._ As to the\nwide-spread belief in New Britain that what we call natural deaths are\nbrought about by sorcery, see further _P._ Rascher, _M.S.C._, \"Die\nSulka, ein Beitrag zur Ethnographic Neu-Pommern,\" _Archiv fuer\nEthnographie_, xxix. (1904) pp. 221 _sq._; R. Parkinson, _Dreissig Jahre\nin der Suedsee_, pp. 117 _sq._ 199-201; P. A. Kleintitschen, _Die\nKuesten-bewohner der Gazellehalbinsel_ (Hiltrup bei Muenster, N.D.), p.\n215.]\n\n[Footnote 642: G. Brown, _op. cit._ pp. 387-390.]\n\n[Footnote 643: G. Brown, _op. cit._ pp. 35, 89, 196, 201.]\n\n[Footnote 644: G. Brown, _op. cit._ pp. 177, 183, 184.]\n\n[Footnote 645: G. Brown, _op. cit._ pp. 192-195.]\n\n[Footnote 646: P. A. Kleintitschen, _Die Kuestenbewohner der\nGazellehalbinsel_, pp. 225 _sq._ Compare R. Parkinson, _Dreissig Jahre\nin der Suedsee_, p. 79.]\n\n[Footnote 647: Lorimer Fison, _Tales from Old Fiji_ (London, 1904), p.\nxiv.]\n\n[Footnote 648: Thomas Williams, _Fiji and the Fijians_, Second Edition\n(London, 1860), i. 22-26.]\n\n[Footnote 649: Charles Wilkes, _Narrative of the United States Exploring\nExpedition_, New Edition (New York, 1851), iii. 77; Th. Williams, _op.\ncit._ i. 18.]\n\n[Footnote 650: Charles Wilkes, _Narrative of the United States Exploring\nExpedition_, New Edition (New York, 1851), iii. 332 _sqq._; Thomas\nWilliams _Fiji and the Fijians_, Second Edition (London, 1860), i. 60\n_sqq._; Berthold Seeman, _Viti_ (Cambridge, 1862), pp. 279 _sqq._; Basil\nThomson, _The Fijians_ (London, 1908), pp. 335 _sq._]\n\n[Footnote 651: Th. Williams, _op. cit._ i. 60 _sq._]\n\n[Footnote 652: Basil Thomson, _The Fijians_, pp. 338, 389 _sq._ The\nFijians are in the main vegetarians, but the vegetables which they\ncultivate \"contain a large proportion of starch and water, and are\ndeficient in proteids. Moreover, the supply of the principal staples is\nirregular, being greatly affected by variable seasons, and the attacks\nof insects and vermin. Very few of them will bear keeping, and almost\nall of them must be eaten when ripe. As the food is of low nutritive\nvalue, a native always eats to repletion. In times of plenty a\nfull-grown man will eat as much as ten pounds' weight of vegetables in\nthe day; he will seldom be satisfied with less than five. A great\nquantity, therefore, is required to feed a very few people, and as\neverything is transported by hand, a disproportionate amount of time is\nspent in transporting food from the plantation to the consumer. The time\nspent in growing native food is also out of all proportion to its value\"\n(Basil Thomson, _op. cit._ pp. 334 _sq._). The same writer tells us (p.\n335) that it has never occurred to the Fijians to dry any of the fruits\nthey grow and to grind them into flour, as is done in Africa.]\n\n[Footnote 653: Capt. J. E. Erskine, _Journal of a Cruise among the\nIslands of the Western Pacific_ (London, 1853), pp. 272 _sq._]\n\n[Footnote 654: Ch. Wilkes, _op. cit._ iii. 46, 363. As to the cruelty\nand depravity of the Fijians in the old days see further Lorimer Fison,\n_Tales from Old Fiji_ (London, 1904), pp. xv. _sqq._]\n\n[Footnote 655: Th. Williams, _Fiji and the Fijians_, i. 6 _sq._ As to\nthe scenery of the Fijian archipelago see further _id._, i. 4 _sqq._;\nCh. Wilkes, _op. cit._ iii. 46, 322; _Stanford's Compendium of Geography\nand Travel, Australasia_, vol. ii. _Malaysia and the Pacific\nArchipelago_, edited by F. H. H. Guillemard (London, 1894), pp. 467\n_sqq._; Miss Beatrice Grimshaw, _From Fiji to the Cannibal Islands_\n(London, 1907), pp. 43 _sq._, 54 _sq._, 76-78, 106, 109 _sq._]\n\n[Footnote 656: Th. Williams, _Fiji and the Fijians_, i. 5 _sq._, 11; Ch.\nWilkes, _op. cit._ iii. 46 _sq._ However, there is a remarkable\ndifference not only in climate but in appearance between the windward\nand the leeward sides of these islands. The windward side, watered by\nabundant showers, is covered with luxuriant tropical vegetation; the\nleeward side, receiving little rain, presents a comparatively barren and\nburnt appearance, the vegetation dying down to the grey hues of the\nboulders among which it struggles for life. Hence the dry leeward side\nis better adapted for European settlement. See Ch. Wilkes, _op. cit._\niii. 320 _sq._; Th. Williams, _op. cit._ i. 10; B. Seeman, _Viti, an\nAccount of a Government Mission to the Vitian or Fijian Islands in the\nyears 1860-1861_ (Cambridge, 1862), pp. 277 _sq._]\n\n[Footnote 657: Th. Williams, _op. cit._ i. 241; J. E. Erskine, _op.\ncit._ p. 249; B. Seeman, _Viti_ (Cambridge, 1862), p. 398.]\n\n[Footnote 658: William Mariner, _An Account of the Natives of the Tonga\nIslands_, Second Edition (London, 1818), ii. 129 _sq._ The _matabooles_\nwere a sort of honourable attendants on chiefs and ranked next to them\nin the social hierarchy; the _mooas_ were the next class of people below\nthe _matabooles_. See W. Mariner, _op. cit._ ii. 84, 86. Bolotoo or Bulu\nwas the mythical land of the dead.]\n\n[Footnote 659: Th. Williams, _Fiji and the Fijians_, i. 241.]\n\n[Footnote 660: This is the opinion of my late friend, the Rev. Lorimer\nFison, which he communicated to me in a letter dated 26th August, 1898.]\n\n[Footnote 661: Communication of the late Rev. Lorimer Fison in a letter\nto me dated 3rd November, 1898. I have already published it in _Taboo\nand the Perils of the Soul_, pp. 29 _sq._]\n\n[Footnote 662: Th. Williams, _op. cit._ i. 242; Lorimer Fison, _Tales\nfrom Old Fiji_, pp. 163 _sq._; _Taboo and the Perils of the Soul_, pp.\n39 _sq._]\n\n[Footnote 663: Th. Williams, _op. cit._ i. 250.]\n\n[Footnote 664: Th. Williams, _op. cit._ i. 248.]\n\n[Footnote 665: Lorimer Fison, _op. cit._ p. xxxii.]\n\n[Footnote 666: Th. Williams, _op. cit._ i. 248 _sq._; Lorimer Fison,\n_op. cit._ pp. xxxi. _sq._]\n\n[Footnote 667: Th. Williams, _op. cit._ i. 249.]\n\n[Footnote 668: Basil Thomson, _The Fijians_ (London, 1908), p. 166. A\n_rara_ is a public square (Rev. Lorimer Fison, in _Journal of the\nAnthropological Institute_, xiv. (1885) p. 17).]\n\n[Footnote 669: Th. Williams, _op. cit._ i. 241.]\n\n[Footnote 670: Ch. Wilkes, _op. cit._ iii. 50.]\n\n[Footnote 671: Narrative of John Jackson, in Capt. J. E. Erskine's\n_Journal of a Cruise among the Islands of the Western Pacific_ (London,\n1853), p. 477.]\n\n[Footnote 672: Ch. Wilkes, _op. cit._ iii. 85.]\n\n[Footnote 673: Lorimer Fison, _op. cit._ pp. 168 _sq_.]\n\n[Footnote 674: W. H. R. Rivers, \"Totemism in Fiji,\" _Man_, viii. (1908)\npp. 133 _sqq._; _Totemism and Exogamy_, ii. 134 _sqq._]\n\n[Footnote 675: U. Lisiansky, _A Voyage Round the World_ (London, 1814),\np. 89.]\n\n[Footnote 676: Ch. Hose and W. McDougall, _The Pagan Tribes of Borneo_\n(London, 1912), ii. 47.]\n\n[Footnote 677: Compare _Totemism and Exogamy_, iii. 297-299.]\n\n\n\n\nLECTURE XIX\n\nTHE BELIEF IN IMMORTALITY AMONG THE NATIVES OF EASTERN MELANESIA (FIJI)\n(_continued_)\n\n\n[Sidenote: Fijian indifference to death.]\n\nAt the close of last lecture I illustrated the unquestioning belief\nwhich the Fijians entertain with regard to the survival of the human\nsoul after death. \"The native superstitions with regard to a future\nstate,\" we are told, \"go far to explain the apparent indifference of the\npeople about death; for, while believing in an eternal existence, they\nshut out from it the idea of any moral retribution in the shape either\nof reward or punishment. The first notion concerning death is that of\nsimple rest, and is thus contained in one of their rhymes:--\n\n  \"Death is easy:\n   Of what use is life?\n      To die is rest.\"[678]\n\nAgain, another writer, speaking of the Fijians, says that \"in general,\nthe passage from life to death is considered as one from pain to\nhappiness, and I was informed that nine out of ten look forward to it\nwith anxiety, in order to escape from the infirmities of old age, or the\nsufferings of disease.\"[679]\n\n[Sidenote: John Jackson's account of the burying alive of a young Fijian\nman. Son buried alive by his father.]\n\nThe cool indifference with which the Fijians commonly regarded their own\ndeath and that of other people might be illustrated by many examples. I\nwill give one in the words of an English eye-witness, who lived among\nthese savages for some time like one of themselves. At a place on the\ncoast of Viti Levu, the largest of the Fijian Islands, he says, \"I\nwalked into a number of temples, which were very plentiful, and at last\ninto a _bure theravou_ (young man's _bure_), where I saw a tall young\nman about twenty years old. He appeared to be somewhat ailing, but not\nat all emaciated. He was rolling up the mat he had been sleeping upon,\nevidently preparing to go away somewhere. I addressed him, and asked him\nwhere he was going, when he immediately answered that he was going to be\nburied. I observed that he was not dead yet, but he said he soon should\nbe dead when he was put under ground. I asked him why he was going to be\nburied? He said it was three days since he had eaten anything, and\nconsequently he was getting very thin; and that if he lived any longer\nhe would be much thinner, and then the women would call him a _lila_\n(skeleton), and laugh at him. I said he was a fool to throw himself away\nfor fear of being laughed at; and asked him what or who his private god\nwas, knowing it to be no use talking to him about Providence, a thing he\nhad never heard of. He said his god was a shark, and that if he were\ncast away in a canoe and was obliged to swim, the sharks would not bite\nhim. I asked him if he believed the shark, his god, had any power to act\nover him? He said yes. 'Well then,' said I, 'why do you not live a\nlittle longer, and trust to your god to give you an appetite?' Finding\nthat he could not give me satisfactory answers, and being determined to\nget buried to avoid the jeers of the ladies, which to a Feejeean are\nintolerable, he told me I knew nothing about it, and that I must not\ncompare him to a white man, who was generally insensible to all shame,\nand did not care how much he was laughed at. I called him a fool, and\nsaid the best thing he could do was to get buried out of the way,\nbecause I knew that most of them work by the rules of contrary; but it\nwas all to no purpose. By this time all his relations had collected\nround the door. His father had a kind of wooden spade to dig the grave\nwith, his mother a new suit of _tapa_ [bark-cloth], his sister some\nvermilion and a whale's tooth, as an introduction to the great god of\nRage-Rage. He arose, took up his bed and walked, not for life, but for\ndeath, his father, mother, and sister following after, with several\nother distant relations, whom I accompanied. I noticed that they seemed\nto follow him something in the same way that they follow a corpse in\nEurope to the grave (that is, as far as relationship and acquaintance\nare concerned), but, instead of lamenting, they were, if not rejoicing,\nacting and chatting in a very unconcerned way. At last we reached a\nplace where several graves could be seen, and a spot was soon selected\nby the man who was to be buried. The old man, his father, began digging\nhis grave, while his mother assisted her son in putting on a new _tapa_\n[bark-cloth], and the girl (his sister) was besmearing him with\nvermilion and lamp-black, so as to send him decent into the invisible\nworld, he (the victim) delivering messages that were to be taken by his\nsister to people then absent. His father then announced to him and the\nrest that the grave was completed, and asked him, in rather a surly\ntone, if he was not ready by this time. The mother then _nosed_ him, and\nlikewise the sister. He said, 'Before I die, I should like a drink of\nwater.' His father made a surly remark, and said, as he ran to fetch it\nin a leaf doubled up, 'You have been a considerable trouble during your\nlife, and it appears that you are going to trouble us equally at your\ndeath.' The father returned with the water, which the son drank off, and\nthen looked up into a tree covered with tough vines, saying he should\nprefer being strangled with a vine to being smothered in the grave. His\nfather became excessively angry, and, spreading the mat at the bottom of\nthe grave, told the son to die _faka tamata_ (like a man), when he\nstepped into the grave, which was not more than four feet deep, and lay\ndown on his back with the whale's tooth in his hands, which were clasped\nacross his belly. The spare sides of the mats were lapped over him so as\nto prevent the earth from getting to his body, and then about a foot of\nearth was shovelled in upon him as quickly as possible. His father\nstamped it immediately down solid, and called out in a loud voice, '_Sa\ntiko, sa tiko_ (You are stopping there, you are stopping there),'\nmeaning 'Good-bye, good-bye.' The son answered with a very audible\ngrunt, and then about two feet more earth was shovelled in and stamped\nas before by the loving father, and '_Sa tiko_' called out again, which\nwas answered by another grunt, but much fainter. The grave was then\ncompletely filled up, when, for curiosity's sake, I said myself, '_Sa\ntiko_' but no answer was given, although I fancied, or really did see,\nthe earth crack a little on the top of the grave. The father and mother\nthen turned back to back on the middle of the grave, and, having dropped\nsome kind of leaves from their hands, walked away in opposite directions\ntowards a running stream of water hard by, where they and all the rest\nwashed themselves, and made me wash myself, and then we returned to the\ntown, where there was a feast prepared. As soon as the feast was over\n(it being then dark), began the dance and uproar which are always\ncarried on either at natural or violent deaths.\"[680]\n\n[Sidenote: The readiness of the Fijians to die seems to have been partly\na consequence of their belief in immortality.]\n\nThe readiness with which the Fijians submitted to or even sought death\nappears to have been to some extent a direct consequence of their belief\nin immortality and of their notions as to the state of the soul\nhereafter. Thus we are informed by an early observer of this people that\n\"self-immolation is by no means rare, and they believe that as they\nleave this life, so will they remain ever after. This forms a powerful\nmotive to escape from decrepitude, or from a crippled condition, by a\nvoluntary death.\"[681] Or, as another equally early observer puts it\nmore fully, \"the custom of voluntary suicide on the part of the old men,\nwhich is among their most extraordinary usages, is also connected with\ntheir superstitions respecting a future life. They believe that persons\nenter upon the delights of their elysium with the same faculties, mental\nand physical, that they possess at the hour of death, in short, that the\nspiritual life commences where the corporeal existence terminates. With\nthese views, it is natural that they should desire to pass through this\nchange before their mental and bodily powers are so enfeebled by age as\nto deprive them of their capacity for enjoyment. To this motive must be\nadded the contempt which attaches to physical weakness among a nation of\nwarriors, and the wrongs and insults which await those who are no longer\nable to protect themselves. When therefore a man finds his strength\ndeclining with the advance of age, and feels that he will soon be\nunequal to discharge the duties of this life, and to partake in the\npleasures of that which is to come, he calls together his relations, and\ntells them that he is now worn out and useless, that he sees they are\nall ashamed of him, and that he has determined to be buried.\" So on a\nday appointed they met and buried him alive.[682]\n\n[Sidenote: The sick and aged put to death by their relatives.]\n\nThe proposal to put the sick and aged to death did not always emanate\nfrom the parties principally concerned; when a son, for example, thought\nthat his parents were growing too old and becoming a burden to him, he\nwould give them notice that it was time for them to die, a notice which\nthey usually accepted with equanimity, if not alacrity. As a rule, it\nwas left to the choice of the aged and infirm to say whether they would\nprefer to be buried alive or to be strangled first and buried\nafterwards; and having expressed a predilection one way or the other\nthey were dealt with accordingly. To strangle parents or other frail and\nsickly relatives with a rope was considered a more delicate and\naffectionate way of dispatching them than to knock them on the head with\na club. In the old days the missionary Mr. Hunt witnessed several of\nthese tender partings. \"On one occasion, he was called upon by a young\nman, who desired that he would pray to his spirit for his mother, who\nwas dead. Mr. Hunt was at first in hopes that this would afford him an\nopportunity of forwarding their great cause. On inquiry, the young man\ntold him that his brothers and himself were just going to bury her. Mr.\nHunt accompanied the young man, telling him he would follow in the\nprocession, and do as he desired him, supposing, of course, the corpse\nwould be brought along; but he now met the procession, when the young\nman said that this was the funeral, and pointed out his mother, who was\nwalking along with them, as gay and lively as any of those present, and\napparently as much pleased. Mr. Hunt expressed his surprise to the young\nman, and asked him how he could deceive him so much by saying his mother\nwas dead, when she was alive and well. He said, in reply, that they had\nmade her death-feast, and were now going to bury her; that she was old;\nthat his brother and himself had thought she had lived long enough, and\nit was time to bury her, to which she had willingly assented, and they\nwere about it now. He had come to Mr. Hunt to ask his prayers, as they\ndid those of the priest. He added, that it was from love for his mother\nthat he had done so; that, in consequence of the same love, they were\nnow going to bury her, and that none but themselves could or ought to do\nso sacred an office! Mr. Hunt did all in his power to prevent so\ndiabolical an act; but the only reply he received was, that she was\ntheir mother, and they were her children, and they ought to put her to\ndeath. On reaching the grave, the mother sat down, when they all,\nincluding children, grandchildren, relations, and friends, took an\naffectionate leave of her; a rope, made of twisted _tapa_ [bark-cloth],\nwas then passed twice around her neck by her sons, who took hold of it,\nand strangled her; after which she was put into her grave, with the\nusual ceremonies. They returned to feast and mourn, after which she was\nentirely forgotten as though she had not existed.\"[683]\n\n[Sidenote: Wives strangled or buried alive at their husbands' funerals.]\n\nAgain, wives were often strangled, or buried alive, at the funeral of\ntheir husbands, and generally at their own instance. Such scenes were\nfrequently witnessed by white residents in the old days. On one occasion\na Mr. David Whippy drove away the murderers, rescued the woman, and\ncarried her to his own house, where she was resuscitated. But far from\nfeeling grateful for her preservation, she loaded him with reproaches\nand ever afterwards manifested the most deadly hatred towards him. \"That\nwomen should desire to accompany their husbands in death, is by no means\nstrange when it is considered that it is one of the articles of their\nbelief, that in this way alone can they reach the realms of bliss, and\nshe who meets her death with the greatest devotedness, will become the\nfavourite wife in the abode of spirits. The sacrifice is not, however,\nalways voluntary; but, when a woman refuses to be strangled, her\nrelations often compel her to submit. This they do from interested\nmotives; for, by her death, her connexions become entitled to the\nproperty of her husband. Even a delay is made a matter of reproach.\nThus, at the funeral of the late king Ulivou, which was witnessed by Mr.\nCargill, his five wives and a daughter were strangled. The principal\nwife delayed the ceremony, by taking leave of those around her;\nwhereupon Tanoa, the present king, chid her. The victim was his own\naunt, and he assisted in putting the rope around her neck, and\nstrangling her, a service he is said to have rendered on a former\noccasion to his own mother.\"[684] In the case of men who were drowned at\nsea or killed and eaten by enemies in war, their wives were sacrificed\nin the usual way. Thus when Ra Mbithi, the pride of Somosomo, was lost\nat sea, seventeen of his wives were destroyed; and after the news of a\nmassacre of the Namena people at Viwa in 1839 eighty women were\nstrangled to accompany the spirits of their murdered husbands.[685]\n\n[Sidenote: Human \"grass\" for the grave.]\n\nThe bodies of women who were put to death for this purpose were\nregularly laid at the bottom of the grave to serve as a cushion for the\ndead husband to lie upon; in this capacity they were called grass\n(_thotho_), being compared to the dried grass which in Fijian houses\nused to be thickly strewn on the floors and covered with mats.[686] On\nthis point, however, a nice distinction was observed. While wives were\ncommonly sacrificed at the death of their husbands, in order to be\nspread like grass in their graves, it does not transpire that husbands\nwere ever sacrificed at the death of their wives for the sake of serving\nas grass to their dead spouses in the grave. The great truth that all\nflesh is grass appears to have been understood by the Fijians as\napplicable chiefly to the flesh of women. Sometimes a man's mother was\nstrangled as well as his wives. Thus Ngavindi, a young chief of Lasakau,\nwas laid in the grave with a wife at his side, his mother at his feet,\nand a servant not far off. However, men as well as women were killed to\nfollow their masters to the far country. The confidential companion of a\nchief was expected as a matter of common decency to die with his lord;\nand if he shirked the duty, he fell in the public esteem. When Mbithi, a\nchief of high rank and greatly esteemed in Mathuata, died in the year\n1840, not only his wife but five men with their wives were strangled to\nform the floor of his grave. They were laid on a layer of mats, and the\nbody of the chief was stretched upon them.[687] There used to be a\nfamily in Vanua Levu which enjoyed the high privilege of supplying a\nhale man to be buried with the king of Fiji on every occasion of a royal\ndecease. It was quite necessary that the man should be hale and hearty,\nfor it was his business to grapple with the Fijian Cerberus in the other\nworld, while his majesty slipped past into the abode of bliss.[688]\n\n[Sidenote: Sacrifices of foreskins and fingers in honour of the dead.\nCircumcision performed on a lad as a propitiatory sacrifice to save the\nlife of his father or father's brother. The rite of circumcision\nfollowed by a licentious orgy.]\n\nA curious sacrifice offered in honour of a dead chief consisted in the\nforeskins of all the boys who had arrived at a suitable age; the lads\nwere circumcised on purpose to furnish them. Many boys had their little\nfingers chopped off on the same occasion, and the severed foreskins and\nfingers were placed in the chief's grave. When this bloody rite had been\nperformed, the chief's relatives presented young bread-fruit trees to\nthe mutilated boys, whose friends were bound to cultivate them till the\nboys could do it for themselves.[689] Women as well as boys had their\nfingers cut off in mourning. We read of a case when after the death of a\nking of Fiji sixty fingers were amputated and being each inserted in a\nslit reed were stuck along the eaves of the king's house.[690] Why\nforeskins and fingers were buried with a dead chief or stuck up on the\nroof of his house, we are not informed, and it is not easy to divine.\nApparently we must suppose that, when they were buried with the body,\nthey were thought to be of some assistance to the departed spirit in the\nland of souls. At all events it deserves to be noted that according to a\nvery good authority a similar sacrifice of foreskins used to be made not\nonly for the dead but for the living. When a man of note was dangerously\nill, a family council would be held, at which it might be agreed that a\ncircumcision should take place as a propitiatory measure. Notice having\nbeen given to the priests, an uncircumcised lad, the sick man's own son\nor the son of one of his brothers, was then taken by his kinsman to the\n_Vale tambu_ or God's House, and there presented as a _soro_, or\noffering of atonement, in order that his father or father's brother\nmight be made whole. His escort at the same time made a present of\nvaluable property at the shrine and promised much more in future, should\ntheir prayers be answered. The present and the promises were graciously\nreceived by the priest, who appointed a day on which the operation was\nto be performed. In the meantime no food might be taken from the\nplantations except what was absolutely required for daily use; no pigs\nor fowls might be killed, and no coco-nuts plucked from the trees.\nEverything, in short, was put under a strict taboo; all was set apart\nfor the great feast which was to follow the performance of the rite. On\nthe day appointed the son or nephew of the sick chief was circumcised,\nand with him a number of other lads whose friends had agreed to take\nadvantage of the occasion. Their foreskins, stuck in the cleft of a\nsplit reed, were taken to the sacred enclosure (_Nanga_) and presented\nto the chief priest, who, holding the reeds in his hand, offered them to\nthe ancestral gods and prayed for the sick man's recovery. Then followed\na great feast, which ushered in a period of indescribable revelry and\nlicence. All distinctions of property were for the time being suspended.\nMen and women arrayed themselves in all manner of fantastic garbs,\naddressed one another in the foulest language, and practised\nunmentionable abominations openly in the public square of the town. The\nnearest relationships, even that of own brother and sister, seemed to be\nno bar to the general licence, the extent of which was indicated by the\nexpressive phrase of an old Nandi chief, who said, \"While it lasts, we\nare just like the pigs.\" This feasting and orgy might be kept up for\nseveral days, after which the ordinary restraints of society and the\ncommon decencies of life were observed once more. The rights of private\nproperty were again respected; the abandoned revellers and debauchees\nsettled down into staid married couples; and brothers and sisters, in\naccordance with the regular Fijian etiquette, might not so much as speak\nto one another. It should be added that these extravagances in connexion\nwith the rite of circumcision appear to have been practised only in\ncertain districts of Viti Levu, the largest of the Fijian Islands, where\nthey were always associated with the sacred stone enclosures which went\nby the name of _Nanga_.[691]\n\n[Sidenote: These orgies were apparently associated with the worship of\nthe dead, to whom offerings were made in the _Nanga_ or sacred enclosure\nof stones.]\n\nThe meaning of such orgies is very obscure, but from what we know of the\nsavage and his ways we may fairly assume that they were no mere\noutbursts of unbridled passion, but that in the minds of those who\npractised them they had a definite significance and served a definite\npurpose. The one thing that seems fairly clear about them is that in\nsome way they were associated with the worship or propitiation of the\ndead. At all events we are told on good authority that the _Nanga_, or\nsacred enclosure of stones, in which the severed foreskins were offered,\nwas \"the Sacred Place where the ancestral spirits are to be found by\ntheir worshippers, and thither offerings are taken on all occasions when\ntheir aid is to be invoked. Every member of the _Nanga_ has the\nprivilege of approaching the ancestors at any time. When sickness visits\nhimself or his kinsfolk, when he wishes to invoke the aid of the spirits\nto avert calamity or to secure prosperity, or when he deems it advisable\nto present a thank-offering, he may enter the _Nanga_ with proper\nreverence and deposit on the dividing wall his whale's tooth, or bundle\nof cloth, or dish of toothsome eels so highly prized by the elders, and\ntherefore by the ancestors whose living representatives they are: or he\nmay drag into the Sacred _Nanga_ his fattened pig, or pile up there his\noffering of the choicest yams. And, having thus recommended himself to\nthe dead, he may invoke their powerful aid, or express his thankfulness\nfor the benefits they have conferred, and beg for a continuance of their\ngoodwill.\"[692] The first-fruits of the yam harvest were presented with\ngreat ceremony to the ancestors in the _Nanga_ before the bulk of the\ncrop was dug for the people's use, and no man might taste of the new\nyams until the presentation had been made. The yams so offered were\npiled up in the sacred enclosure and left to rot there. If any one were\nimpious enough to appropriate them to his own use, it was believed that\nhe would be smitten with madness. Great feasts were held at the\npresentation of the first-fruits; and the sacred enclosure itself was\noften spoken of as the _Mbaki_ or Harvest.[693]\n\n[Sidenote: Periodical initiation of young men in the _Nanga_.]\n\nBut the most characteristic and perhaps the most important of the rites\nperformed in the _Nanga_ or sacred stone enclosure was the periodical\ninitiation of young men, who by participation in the ceremony were\nadmitted to the full privileges of manhood. According to one account the\nceremony of initiation was performed as a rule only once in two years;\naccording to another account it was observed annually in October or\nNovember, when the _ndrala_ tree (_Erythrina_) was in flower. The\nflowering of the tree marked the beginning of the Fijian year; hence the\nnovices who were initiated at this season bore the title of _Vilavou_,\nthat is, \"New Year's Men.\" As a preparation for the feasts which\nattended the ceremony enormous quantities of yams were garnered and\nplaced under a strict taboo; pigs were fattened in large numbers, and\nbales of native cloth stored on the tie-beams of the house-roofs. Spears\nof many patterns and curiously carved clubs were also provided against\nthe festival. On the day appointed the initiated men went first into the\nsacred enclosure and made their offerings, the chief priest having\nopened the proceedings by libation and prayer. The heads of the novices\nwere clean shaven, and their beards, if they had any, were also removed.\nThen each youth was swathed in long rolls of native cloth, and taking a\nspear in one hand and a club in the other he marched with his comrades,\nsimilarly swathed and armed, in procession into the sacred enclosure,\nthough not into its inner compartment, the Holy of Holies. The\nprocession was headed by a priest bearing his carved staff of office,\nand it was received on the holy ground by the initiates, who sat\nchanting a song in a deep murmuring tone, which occasionally swelled to\na considerable volume of sound and was thought to represent the muffled\nroar of the surf breaking on a far-away coral reef. On entering the\nenclosure the youths threw down their weapons before them, and with the\nhelp of the initiated men divested themselves of the huge folds of\nnative cloth in which they were enveloped, each man revolving slowly on\nhis axis, while his attendant pulled at the bandage and gathered in the\nslack. The weapons and the cloth were the offerings presented by the\nnovices to the ancestral spirits for the purpose of rendering themselves\nacceptable to these powerful beings. The offerings were repeated in like\nmanner on four successive days; and as each youth was merely, as it\nwere, the central roller of a great bale of cloth, the amount of cloth\noffered was considerable. It was all put away, with the spears and\nclubs, in the sacred storehouse by the initiated men. A feast concluded\neach day and was prolonged far into the night.\n\n[Sidenote: Ceremony of death and resurrection.]\n\nOn the fifth day, the last and greatest of the festival, the heads of\nthe young men were shaven again and their bodies swathed in the largest\nand best rolls of cloth. Then, taking their choicest weapons in their\nhands, they followed their leader as before into the sacred enclosure.\nBut the outer compartment of the holy place, where on the previous days\nthey had been received by the grand chorus of initiated men, was now\nsilent and deserted. The procession stopped. A dead silence prevailed.\nSuddenly from the forest a harsh scream of many parrots broke forth, and\nthen followed a mysterious booming sound which filled the souls of the\nnovices with awe. But now the priest moves slowly forward and leads the\ntrain of trembling novices for the first time into the inner shrine, the\nHoly of Holies, the _Nanga tambu-tambu_. Here a dreadful spectacle meets\ntheir startled gaze. In the background sits the high priest, regarding\nthem with a stony stare; and between him and them lie a row of dead men,\ncovered with blood, their bodies seemingly cut open and their entrails\nprotruding. The leader steps over them one by one, and the awestruck\nyouths follow him until they stand in a row before the high priest,\ntheir very souls harrowed by his awful glare. Suddenly he utters a great\nyell, and at the cry the dead men start to their feet, and run down to\nthe river to cleanse themselves from the blood and filth with which they\nare besmeared. They are initiated men, who represent the departed\nancestors for the occasion; and the blood and entrails are those of many\npigs that have been slaughtered for that night's revelry. The screams of\nthe parrots and the mysterious booming sound were produced by a\nconcealed orchestra, who screeched appropriately and blew blasts on\nbamboo trumpets, the mouths of which were partially immersed in water.\n\n[Sidenote: Sacrament of food and water.]\n\nThe dead men having come to life again, the novices offered their\nweapons and the bales of native cloth in which they were swathed. These\nwere accordingly removed to the storehouse and the young men were made\nto sit down in front of it. Then the high priest, cheered perhaps by the\nsight of the offerings, unbent the starched dignity of his demeanour.\nSkipping from side to side he cried in stridulous tones, \"Where are the\npeople of my enclosure? Are they gone to Tongalevu? Are they gone to the\ndeep sea?\" He had not called long when an answer rang out from the river\nin a deep-mouthed song, and soon the singers came in view moving\nrhythmically to the music of their solemn chant. Singing they filed in\nand took their places in front of the young men; then silence ensued.\nAfter that there entered four old men of the highest order of initiates;\nthe first bore a cooked yam carefully wrapt in leaves so that no part of\nit should touch the hands of the bearer; the second carried a piece of\nbaked pork similarly enveloped; the third held a drinking-cup of\ncoco-nut shell or earthenware filled with water and wrapt round with\nnative cloth; and the fourth bore a napkin of the same material.\nThereupon the first elder passed along the row of novices putting the\nend of the yam into each of their mouths, and as he did so each of them\nnibbled a morsel of the sacred food; the second elder did the same with\nthe sacred pork; the third elder followed with the holy water, with\nwhich each novice merely wetted his lips; and the rear was brought up by\nthe fourth elder, who wiped all their mouths with his napkin. Then the\nhigh priest or one of the elders addressed the young men, warning them\nsolemnly against the sacrilege of divulging to the profane any of the\nhigh mysteries they had seen and heard, and threatening all such\ntraitors with the vengeance of the gods.\n\n[Sidenote: Presentation of the pig.]\n\nThat ceremony being over, all the junior initiated men (_Lewe ni Nanga_)\ncame forward, and each man presented to the novices a yam and a piece of\nnearly raw pork; whereupon the young men took the food and went away to\ncook it for eating. When the evening twilight had fallen, a huge pig,\nwhich had been specially set aside at a former festival, was dragged\ninto the sacred enclosure and there presented to the novices, together\nwith other swine, if they should be needed to furnish a plenteous\nrepast.\n\n[Sidenote: Acceptance of the novices by the ancestral spirits.]\n\nThe novices were now \"accepted members of the _Nanga_, qualified to take\ntheir place among the men of the community, though still only on\nprobation. As children--their childhood being indicated by their shaven\nheads--they were presented to the ancestors, and their acceptance was\nnotified by what (looking at the matter from the natives' standpoint) we\nmight, without irreverence, almost call the _sacrament_ of food and\nwater, too sacred even for the elders' hands to touch. This acceptance\nwas acknowledged and confirmed on the part of all the _Lewe ni Nanga_\n[junior initiated men] by their gift of food, and it was finally\nratified by the presentation of the Sacred Pig. In like manner, on the\nbirth of an infant, its father acknowledges it as legitimate, and\notherwise acceptable, by a gift of food; and his kinsfolk formally\nsignify approval and confirmation of his decision on the part of the\nclan by similar presentations.\"\n\n[Sidenote: The initiation followed by a period of sexual license. Sacred\npigs.]\n\nNext morning the women, their hair dyed red and wearing waistbands of\nhibiscus or other fibre, came to the sacred enclosure and crawled\nthrough it on hands and knees into the Holy of Holies, where the elders\nwere singing their solemn chant. The high priest then dipped his hands\ninto the water of the sacred bowl and prayed to the ancestral spirits\nfor the mothers and for their children. After that the women crawled\nback on hands and feet the way they had come, singing as they went and\ncreeping over certain mounds of earth which had been thrown up for the\npurpose in the sacred enclosure. When they emerged from the holy ground,\nthe men and women addressed each other in the vilest language, such as\non ordinary occasions would be violently resented; and thenceforth to\nthe close of the ceremonies some days later very great, indeed almost\nunlimited, licence prevailed between the sexes. During these days a\nnumber of pigs were consecrated to serve for the next ceremony. The\nanimals were deemed sacred, and had the run of the fleshpots in the\nvillages in which they were kept. Indeed they were held in the greatest\nreverence. To kill one, except for sacrifice at the rites in the\n_Nanga_, would have been a sacrilege which the Fijian mind refused to\ncontemplate; and on the other hand to feed the holy swine was an act of\npiety. Men might be seen throwing down basketfuls of food before the\nsnouts of the worshipful pigs, and at the same time calling the\nattention of the ancestral spirits to the meritorious deed. \"Take\nknowledge of me,\" they would cry, \"ye who lie buried, our heads! I am\nfeeding this pig of yours.\" Finally, all the men who had taken part in\nthe ceremonies bathed together in the river, carefully cleansing\nthemselves from every particle of the black paint with which they had\nbeen bedaubed. When the novices, now novices no more, emerged from the\nwater, the high priest, standing on the river bank, preached to them an\neloquent sermon on the duties and responsibilities which devolved on\nthem in their new position.[694]\n\n[Sidenote: The intention of the initiatory rites seems to be to\nintroduce the young men to the ancestral spirits. The drama of death and\nresurrection. The Fijian rites of initiation seem to have been imported\nby Melanesian immigrants from the west.]\n\nThe general intention of these initiatory rites appears to be, as Mr.\nFison has said in the words which I have quoted, to introduce the young\nmen to the ancestral spirits at their sanctuary, to incorporate them, so\nto say, in the great community which embraces all adult members of the\ntribe, whether living or dead. At all events this interpretation fits in\nvery well with the prayers which are offered to the souls of departed\nkinsfolk on these occasions, and it is supported by the analogy of the\nNew Guinea initiatory rites which I described in former lectures; for in\nthese rites, as I pointed out, the initiation of the youths is closely\nassociated with the conceptions of death and the dead, the main feature\nin the ritual consisting indeed of a simulation of death and subsequent\nresurrection. It is, therefore, significant that the very same\nsimulation figures prominently in the Fijian ceremony, nay it would seem\nto be the very pivot on which the whole ritual revolves. Yet there is an\nobvious and important difference between the drama of death and\nresurrection as it is enacted in New Guinea and in Fiji; for whereas in\nNew Guinea it is the novices who pretend to die and come to life again,\nin Fiji the pretence is carried out by initiated men who represent the\nancestors, while the novices merely look on with horror and amazement at\nthe awe-inspiring spectacle. Of the two forms of ritual the New Guinea\none is probably truer to the original purpose of the rite, which seems\nto have been to enable the novices to put off the old, or rather the\nyoung, man and to put on a higher form of existence by participating in\nthe marvellous powers and privileges of the mighty dead. And if such was\nreally the intention of the ceremony, it is obvious that it was better\neffected by compelling the young communicants, as we may call them, to\ndie and rise from the dead in their own persons than by obliging them to\nassist as mere passive spectators at a dramatic performance of death and\nresurrection. Yet in spite of this difference between the two rituals,\nthe general resemblance between them is near enough to justify us in\nconjecturing that there may be a genetic connexion between the one and\nthe other. The conjecture is confirmed, first, by the very limited and\ndefinite area of Fiji in which these initiatory rites were practised,\nand, second, by the equally definite tradition of their origin. With\nregard to the first of these points, the _Nanga_ or sacred stone\nenclosure with its characteristic rites was known only to certain\ntribes, who occupied a comparatively small area, a bare third of the\nisland of Viti Levu. These tribes are the Nuyaloa, Vatusila, Mbatiwai,\nand Mdavutukia. They all seem to have spread eastward and southward from\na place of origin in the western mountain district. Their physical type\nis pure Melanesian, with fewer traces of Polynesian admixture than can\nbe detected in the tribes on the coast.[695] Hence it is natural to\nenquire whether the ritual of the _Nanga_ may not have been imported\ninto Fiji by Melanesian immigrants from the west. The question appears\nto be answered in the affirmative by native tradition. \"This is the word\nof our fathers concerning the _Nanga_,\" said an old Wainimala grey-beard\nto Mr. Fison. \"Long, long ago their fathers were ignorant of it; but one\nday two strangers were found sitting in the _rara_ (public square), and\nthey said they had come up from the sea to give them the _Nanga_. They\nwere little men, and very dark-skinned, and one of them had his face and\nbust painted red, while the other was painted black. Whether these two\nwere gods or men our fathers did not tell us, but it was they who taught\nour people the _Nanga_. This was in the old old times when our fathers\nwere living in another land--not in this place, for we are strangers\nhere. Our fathers fled hither from Navosa in a great war which arose\namong them, and when they came there was no _Nanga_ in the land. So they\nbuilt one of their own after the fashion of that which they left behind\nthem.\" \"Here,\" says Mr. Basil Thomson, \"we have the earliest\ntradition of missionary enterprise in the Pacific. I do not doubt that\nthe two sooty-skinned little men were castaways driven eastward by one\nof those strong westerly gales that have been known to last for three\nweeks at a time. By Fijian custom the lives of all castaways were\nforfeit, but the pretence to supernatural powers would have saved men\nfull of the religious rites of their Melanesian home, and would have\nassured them a hearing. The Wainimala tribes can name six generations\nsince they settled in their present home, and therefore the introduction\nof the _Nanga_ cannot have been less than two centuries ago. During that\ntime it has overspread one third of the large island.\"\n\n[Sidenote: The general licence associated with the ritual of the _Nanga_\nmay be a temporary revival of primitive communism.]\n\nA very remarkable feature in the _Nanga_ ritual consists in the\ntemporary licence accorded to the sexes and the suspension of\nproprietary rites in general. What is the meaning of this curious and to\nthe civilised mind revolting custom? Here again the most probable,\nthough merely conjectural, answer is furnished by Mr. Fison. \"We cannot\nfor a moment believe,\" he says, \"that it is a mere licentious outbreak,\nwithout an underlying meaning and purpose. It is part of a religious\nrite, and is supposed to be acceptable to the ancestors. But why should\nit be acceptable to them unless it were in accordance with their own\npractice in the far-away past? There may be another solution of this\ndifficult problem, but I confess myself unable to find any other which\nwill cover all the corroborating facts.\"[696] In other words, Mr. Fison\nsupposes that in the sexual licence and suspension of the rights of\nprivate property which characterise these festivals we have a\nreminiscence of a time when women and property were held in common by\nthe community, and the motive for temporarily resuscitating these\nobsolete customs was a wish to propitiate the ancestral spirits, who\nwere thought to be gratified by witnessing a revival of that primitive\ncommunism which they themselves had practised in the flesh so long ago.\nTruly a religious revival of a remarkable kind!\n\n[Sidenote: Description of the _Nanga_ or sacred enclosure of stones.]\n\nTo conclude this part of my subject I will briefly describe the\nconstruction of a _Nanga_ or sacred stone enclosure, as it used to exist\nin Fiji. At the present day only ruins of these structures are to be\nseen, but by an observation of the ruins and a comparison of the\ntraditions which still survive among the natives on the subject it is\npossible to reconstruct one of them with a fair degree of exactness. A\n_Nanga_ has been described as an open-air temple, and the description is\njust. It consisted of a rough parallelogram enclosed by flat stones set\nupright and embedded endwise in the earth. The length of the enclosure\nthus formed was about one hundred feet and its breadth about fifty feet.\nThe upright stones which form the outer walls are from eighteen inches\nto three feet high, but as they do not always touch they may be\ndescribed as alignments rather than walls. The long walls or alignments\nrun east and west, the short ones north and south; but the orientation\nis not very exact. At the eastern end are two pyramidal heaps of stones,\nabout five feet high, with square sloping sides and flat tops. The\nnarrow passage between them is the main entrance into the sacred\nenclosure. Internally the structure was divided into three separate\nenclosures or compartments by two cross-walls of stone running north and\nsouth. These compartments, taking them from east to west, were called\nrespectively the Little Nanga, the Great Nanga, and the Sacred Nanga or\nHoly of Holies (_Nanga tambu-tambu_). The partition walls between them\nwere built solid of stones, with battering sides, to a height of five\nfeet, and in the middle of each there was an opening to allow the\nworshippers to pass from one compartment to another. Trees, such as the\ncandlenut and the red-leaved dracaena, and odoriferous shrubs were\nplanted round the enclosure; and outside of it, to the west of the Holy\nof Holies, was a bell-roofed hut called _Vale tambu_, the Sacred House\nor Temple. The sacred _kava_ bowl stood in the Holy of Holies.[697] It\nis said that when the two traditionary founders of the _Nanga_ in Fiji\nwere about to erect the first structure of that name in their new home,\nthe chief priest poured a libation of _kava_ to the ancestral gods,\n\"and, calling upon those who died long, long ago by name, he prayed that\nthe people of the tribe, both old and young, might live before\nthem.\"[698]\n\n[Sidenote: Comparison of the _Nanga_ with the cromlechs and other\nmegalithic monuments of Europe.]\n\nThe sacred enclosures of stones which I have described have been\ncompared to the alignments of stones at Carnac in Brittany and Merivale\non Dartmoor, and it has been suggested that in the olden time these\nancient European monuments may have witnessed religious rites like those\nwhich were till lately performed in the rude open-air temples of\nFiji.[699] If there is any truth in the suggestion, which I mention for\nwhat it is worth, it would furnish another argument in favour of the\nview that our European cromlechs and other megalithic monuments were\nerected specially for the worship of the dead. The mortuary character of\nStonehenge, for example, is at least suggested by the burial mounds\nwhich cluster thick around and within sight of it; about three hundred\nsuch tombs have been counted within a radius of three miles, while the\nrest of the country in the neighbourhood is comparatively free from\nthem.[700]\n\n[Footnote 678: Th. Williams, _Fiji and the Fijians_, Second Edition\n(London, 1860), i. 242 _sq._]\n\n[Footnote 679: Charles Wilkes, _Narrative of the United States Exploring\nExpedition_, New Edition (New York, 1851), iii. 86.]\n\n[Footnote 680: John Jackson's Narrative, in Capt. J. E. Erskine's\n_Journal of a Cruise among the Islands of the Western Pacific_ (London,\n1853), pp. 475-477. The narrator, John Jackson, was an English seaman\nwho resided alone among the Fijians for nearly two years and learned\ntheir language.]\n\n[Footnote 681: Ch. Wilkes, _op. cit._ iii. 96.]\n\n[Footnote 682: _United States Exploring Expedition, Ethnology and\nPhilology_, by H. Hale (Philadelphia, 1846), p. 65. Compare Capt. J. E.\nErskine, _op. cit._ p. 248: \"It would also seem that a belief in the\nresurrection of the body, in the exact condition in which it leaves the\nworld, is one of the causes that induce, in many instances, a desire for\ndeath in the vigour of manhood, rather than in the decrepitude of old\nage\"; Th. Williams, _op. cit._ i. 183: \"The heathen notion is, that, as\nthey die, such will their condition be in another world; hence their\ndesire to escape extreme infirmity.\"]\n\n[Footnote 683: Ch. Wilkes, _op. cit._ iii. 94 _sq._ Compare Th.\nWilliams, _Fiji and the Fijians_, i. 183-186; Lorimer Fison, _Tales from\nOld Fiji_ (London, 1904), pp. xxv. _sq._]\n\n[Footnote 684: Ch. Wilkes, _op. cit._ iii. 96. Compare Th. Williams,\n_op. cit._ i. 188 _sq._, 193 _sqq._, 200-202; Lorimer Fison, _op. cit._\npp. xxv. _sq._]\n\n[Footnote 685: Th. Williams, _op. cit._ i. 200.]\n\n[Footnote 686: Th. Williams, _op. cit._ i. 189; Lorimer Fison, _op.\ncit._ p. xvi.]\n\n[Footnote 687: Th. Williams, _op. cit._ i. 189.]\n\n[Footnote 688: Th. Williams, _op. cit._ i. 197.]\n\n[Footnote 689: Ch. Wilkes, _op. cit._ iii. 100. Williams also says (_op.\ncit._ i. 167) that the proper time for performing the rite of\ncircumcision was after the death of a chief, and he tells us that \"many\nrude games attend it. Blindfolded youths strike at thin vessels of water\nhung from the branch of a tree. At Lakemba, the men arm themselves with\nbranches of the cocoa-nut, and carry on a sham fight. At Ono, they\nwrestle. At Mbau, they fillip small stones from the end of a bamboo with\nsufficient force to make the person hit wince again. On Vanua Levu,\nthere is a mock siege.\"]\n\n[Footnote 690: Th. Williams, _op. cit._ i. 198.]\n\n[Footnote 691: Rev. Lorimer Fison, \"The Nanga, or Sacred Stone\nEnclosure, of Wainimala, Fiji,\" _Journal of the Anthropological\nInstitute_, xiv. (1885) pp. 27 _sq._ On the other hand Mr. Basil\nThomson's enquiries, made at a later date, did not confirm Mr. Fison's\nstatement that the rite of circumcision was practised as a propitiation\nto recover a chief from sickness. \"I was assured,\" he says, \"on the\ncontrary, that while offerings were certainly made in the _Nanga_ for\nthe recovery of the sick, every youth was circumcised as a matter of\nroutine, and that the rite was in no way connected with sacrifice for\nthe sick\" (Basil Thomson, _The Fijians_, pp. 156 _sq._). However, Mr.\nFison was a very careful and accurate enquirer, and his testimony is not\nto be lightly set aside.]\n\n[Footnote 692: Rev. Lorimer Fison, \"The Nanga, or Sacred Stone\nEnclosure, of Wainimala, Fiji,\" _Journal of the Anthropological\nInstitute_, xiv. (1885) p. 26. Compare Basil Thomson, _The Fijians_, p.\n147: \"The _Nanga_ was the 'bed' of the Ancestors, that is, the spot\nwhere their descendants might hold communion with them; the _Mbaki_ were\nthe rites celebrated in the _Nanga_, whether of initiating the youths,\nor of presenting the first-fruits, or of recovering the sick, or of\nwinning charms against wounds in battle.\"]\n\n[Footnote 693: Rev. Lorimer Fison, _op. cit._ p. 27.]\n\n[Footnote 694: Rev. Lorimer Fison, \"The Nanga, or Sacred Stone\nEnclosure, of Wainimala, Fiji,\" _Journal of the Anthropological\nInstitute_, xiv. (1885) pp. 14-26. The _Nanga_ and its rites have also\nbeen described by Mr. A. B. Joske (\"The Nanga of Viti-levu,\"\n_Internationales Archiv fuer Ethnographie_, ii. (1889) pp. 254-266), and\nMr. Basil Thomson (_The Fijians_, pp. 146-156). As to the interval\nbetween the initiatory ceremonies Mr. Fison tells us that it was\nnormally two years, but he adds: \"This period, however, is not\nnecessarily restricted to two years. There are always a number of youths\nwho are growing to the proper age, and the length of the interval\ndepends upon the decision of the elders. Whenever they judge that there\nis a sufficient number of youths ready for admission, a _Nanga_ is\nappointed to be held; and thus the interval may be longer or shorter,\naccording to the supply of novices\" (_op. cit._ p. 19). According to Mr.\nBasil Thomson the rites were celebrated annually. Mr. Fison's evidence\nas to the gross license which prevailed between the sexes after the\nadmission of the women to the sacred enclosure is confirmed by Mr. Basil\nThomson, who says, amongst other things, that \"a native of Mbau, who\nlived for some years near the _Nanga_, assured me that the visit of the\nwomen to the _Nanga_ resulted in temporary promiscuity; all tabus were\ndefied, and relations who could not speak to one another by customary\nlaw committed incest\" (_op. cit._ p. 154).]\n\n[Footnote 695: Rev. Lorimer Fison, \"The Nanga, or Sacred Stone\nEnclosure, of Wainimala, Fiji,\" _Journal of the Anthropological\nInstitute_, xiv. (1885) pp. 14 _sqq._; Basil Thomson, _The Fijians_, pp.\n147, 149.]\n\n[Footnote 696: Rev. Lorimer Fison, _op. cit._ p. 30.]\n\n[Footnote 697: Rev. Lorimer Fison, _op. cit._ pp. 15, 17, with Plate I.;\nBasil Thomson, _The Fijians_, pp. 147 _sq._ Mr. Fison had not seen a\n_Nanga_; his description is based on information received from natives.\nMr. Basil Thomson visited several of these structures and found them so\nalike that one description would serve for all. He speaks of only two\ninner compartments, which he calls the Holy of Holies (_Nanga\ntambu-tambu_) and the Middle Nanga (_Loma ni Nanga_), but the latter\nname appears to imply a third compartment, which is explicitly mentioned\nand named by Mr. Fison. The bell-shaped hut or temple to the west of the\nsacred enclosure is not noticed by Mr. Thomson.]\n\n[Footnote 698: Rev. Lorimer Fison, _op. cit._ p. 17.]\n\n[Footnote 699: Basil Thomson, _The Fijians_, p. 147.]\n\n[Footnote 700: As to these monuments see Sir John Lubbock (Lord\nAvebury), _Prehistoric Times_, Fifth Edition (London, 1890), p. 127.]\n\n\n\n\nLECTURE XX\n\nTHE BELIEF IN IMMORTALITY AMONG THE NATIVES OF EASTERN MELANESIA (FIJI)\n(_concluded_)\n\n\n[Sidenote: Worship of ancestors in Fiji.]\n\nIn the last lecture I described the rites of ancestor worship which in\ncertain parts of Fiji used to be celebrated at the sacred enclosures of\nstones known as _Nangas_. But the worship of ancestral spirits was by no\nmeans confined to the comparatively small area in Fiji where such sacred\nenclosures were erected, nor were these open-air temples the only\nstructures where the homage of the living was paid to the dead. On the\ncontrary we are told by one who knew the Fijians in the old heathen days\nthat among them \"as soon as beloved parents expire, they take their\nplace amongst the family gods. _Bures_, or temples, are erected to their\nmemory, and offerings deposited either on their graves or on rudely\nconstructed altars--mere stages, in the form of tables, the legs of\nwhich are driven into the ground, and the top of which is covered with\npieces of native cloth. The construction of these altars is identical\nwith that observed by Turner in Tanna, and only differs in its inferior\nfinish from the altars formerly erected in Tahiti and the adjacent\nislands. The offerings, consisting of the choicest articles of food, are\nleft exposed to wind and weather, and firmly believed by the mass of\nFijians to be consumed by the spirits of departed friends and relations;\nbut, if not eaten by animals, they are often stolen by the more\nenlightened class of their countrymen, and even some of the foreigners\ndo not disdain occasionally to help themselves freely to them. However,\nit is not only on tombs or on altars that offerings are made; often,\nwhen the natives eat or drink anything, they throw portions of it away,\nstating them to be for their departed ancestors. I remember ordering a\nyoung chief to empty a bowl containing _kava_, which he did, muttering\nto himself, 'There, father, is some _kava_ for you. Protect me from\nillness or breaking any of my limbs whilst in the mountains.'\"[701]\n\n[Sidenote: Fijian notion of divinity. Two classes of gods, namely, gods\nstrictly so called, and deified men.]\n\n\"The native word expressive of divinity is _kalou_, which, while used to\ndenote the people's highest notion of a god, is also constantly heard as\na qualificative of any thing great or marvellous, or, according to\nHazlewood's Dictionary, 'anything superlative, whether good or bad.'...\nOften the word sinks into a mere exclamation, or becomes an expression\nof flattery. 'You are a _kalou_!' or, 'Your countrymen are gods!' is\noften uttered by the natives, when hearing of the triumphs of art among\ncivilized nations.\"[702] The Fijians distinguished two classes of gods:\nfirst, _kalou vu_, literally \"Root-gods,\" that is, gods strictly so\ncalled, and second, _kalou yalo_, literally, \"Soul-gods,\" that is,\ndeified mortals. Gods of the first class were supposed to be absolutely\neternal; gods of the second class, though raised far above mere\nhumanity, were thought nevertheless to be subject to human passions and\nwants, to accidents, and even to death. These latter were the spirits of\ndeparted chiefs, heroes, and friends; admission into their number was\neasy, and any one might secure his own apotheosis who could ensure the\nservices of some one to act as his representative and priest after his\ndeath.[703] However, though the Fijians admitted the distinction between\nthe two classes of gods in theory, they would seem to have confused them\nin practice. Thus we are informed by an early authority that \"they have\nsuperior and inferior gods and goddesses, more general and local\ndeities, and, were it not an obvious contradiction, we should say they\nhave gods _human_, and gods _divine_; for they have some gods who were\ngods originally, and some who were originally men. It is impossible to\nascertain with any degree of probability how many gods the Fijians have,\nas any man who can distinguish himself in murdering his fellow-men may\ncertainly secure to himself deification after death. Their friends are\nalso sometimes deified and invoked. I have heard them invoke their\nfriends who have been drowned at sea. I need not advert to the absurdity\nof praying to those who could not save themselves from a watery grave.\nTuikilakila, the chief of Somosomo, offered Mr. Hunt a preferment of\nthis sort. 'If you die first,' said he, 'I shall make you my god.' In\nfact, there appears to be no certain line of demarcation between\ndeparted spirits and gods, nor between gods and living men, for many of\nthe priests and old chiefs are considered as sacred persons, and not a\nfew of them will also claim to themselves the right of divinity. 'I am a\ngod,' Tuikilakila would sometimes say; and he believed it too. They were\nnot merely the words of his lips; he believed he was something above a\nmere man.\"[704]\n\nWriters on Fiji have given us lists of some of the principal gods of the\nfirst class,[705] who were supposed never to have been men; but in their\naccount of the religious ritual they do not distinguish between the\nworship which was paid to such deities and that which was paid to\ndeified men. Accordingly we may infer that the ritual was practically\nthe same, and in the sequel I shall assume that what is told us of the\nworship of gods in general holds good of the worship of deified men in\nparticular.\n\n[Sidenote: The Fijian temple (_bure_).]\n\nEvery Fijian town had at least one _bure_ or temple, many of them had\nseveral. Significantly enough the spot where a chief had been killed was\nsometimes chosen for the site of a temple. The structure of these\nedifices was somewhat peculiar. Each of them was built on the top of a\nmound, which was raised to the height of from three to twenty feet above\nthe ground and faced on its sloping sides with dry rubble-work of stone.\nThe ascent to the temple was by a thick plank, the upper surface of\nwhich was cut into notched steps. The proportions of the sacred edifice\nitself were inelegant, if not uncouth, its height being nearly twice as\ngreat as its breadth at the base. The roof was high-pitched; the\nridge-pole was covered with white shells (_Ovula cypraea_) and projected\nthree or four feet at each end. For the most part each temple had two\ndoors and a fire-place in the centre. From some temples it was not\nlawful to throw out the ashes, however much they might accumulate, until\nthe end of the year, which fell in November. The furniture consisted of\na few boxes, mats, several large clay jars, and many drinking vessels. A\ntemple might also contain images, which, though highly esteemed as\nornaments and held sacred, were not worshipped as idols. From the roof\ndepended a long piece of white bark-cloth; it was carried down the angle\nso as to hang before the corner-post and lie on the floor. This cloth\nformed the path down which the god was believed to pass in order to\nenter and inspire his priest. It marked the holy place which few but he\ndared to approach. However, the temples were by no means dedicated\nexclusively to the use of religion. Each of them served also as a\ncouncil-chamber and town-hall; there the chiefs lounged for hours\ntogether; there strangers were entertained; and there the head persons\nof the village might even sleep.[706] In some parts of Viti Levu the\ndead were sometimes buried in the temples, \"that the wind might not\ndisturb, nor the rain fall upon them,\" and in order that the living\nmight have the satisfaction of lying near their departed friends. A\nchild of high rank having died under the charge of the queen of\nSomosomo, the little body was placed in a box and hung from the tie-beam\nof the principal temple. For some months afterwards the daintiest food\nwas brought daily to the dead child, the bearers approaching with the\nutmost respect and clapping their hands when the ghost was thought to\nhave finished his meal just as a chiefs retainers used to do when he had\ndone eating.[707]\n\n[Sidenote: Worship at the temples.]\n\nTemples were often unoccupied for months and allowed to fall into ruins,\nuntil the chief had some request to make to the god, when the necessary\nrepairs were first carried out. No regular worship was maintained, no\nhabitual reverence was displayed at the shrines. The principle of fear,\nwe are told, seemed to be the only motive of religious observances, and\nit was artfully fomented by the priests, through whom alone the people\nhad access to the gods when they desired to supplicate the favour of the\ndivine beings. The prayers were naturally accompanied by offerings,\nwhich in matters of importance comprised large quantities of food,\ntogether with whales' teeth; in lesser affairs a tooth, club, mat, or\nspear sufficed. Of the food brought by the worshippers part was\ndedicated to the god, but as usual he only ate the soul of it, the\nsubstance being consumed by the priest and old men; the remainder\nfurnished a feast of which all might partake.[708]\n\n[Sidenote: The priests.]\n\nThe office of priest (_mbete_, _bete_) was usually hereditary, but when\na priest died without male heirs a cunning fellow, ambitious of enjoying\nthe sacred character and of living in idleness, would sometimes simulate\nthe convulsive frenzy, which passed for a symptom of inspiration, and if\nhe succeeded in the imposture would be inducted into the vacant\nbenefice. Every chief had his priest, with whom he usually lived on a\nvery good footing, the two playing into each other's hands and working\nthe oracle for their mutual benefit. The people were grossly\nsuperstitious, and there were few of their affairs in which the priest\nhad not a hand. His influence over them was great. In his own district\nhe passed for the representative of the deity; indeed, according to an\nearly missionary, the natives seldom distinguished the idea of the god\nfrom that of his minister, who was viewed by them with a reverence that\nalmost amounted to deification.[709]\n\n[Sidenote: Oracles given by the priest under the inspiration of the god.\nParoxysm of inspiration.]\n\nThe principal duty of the priest was to reveal to men the will of the\ngod, and this he always did through the direct inspiration of the deity.\nThe revelation was usually made in response to an enquiry or a prayer;\nthe supplicant asked, it might be, for a good crop of yams or taro, for\nshowers of rain, for protection in battle, for a safe voyage, or for a\nstorm to drive canoes ashore, so that the supplicant might rob, murder,\nand eat the castaways. To lend force to one or other of these pious\nprayers the worshipper brought a whale's tooth to the temple and\npresented it to the priest. The man of god might have had word of his\ncoming and time to throw himself into an appropriate attitude. He might,\nfor example, be seen lying on the floor near the sacred corner, plunged\nin a profound meditation. On the entrance of the enquirer the priest\nwould rouse himself so far as to get up and then seat himself with his\nback to the white cloth, down which the deity was expected to slide into\nthe medium's body. Having received the whale's tooth he would abstract\nhis mind from all worldly matters and contemplate the tooth for some\ntime with rapt attention. Presently he began to tremble, his limbs\ntwitched, his features were distorted. These symptoms, the visible\nmanifestation of the entrance of the spirit into him, gradually\nincreased in violence till his whole frame was convulsed and shook as\nwith a strong fit of ague: his veins swelled: the circulation of the\nblood was quickened. The man was now possessed and inspired by the god:\nhis own human personality was for a time in abeyance: all that he said\nand did in the paroxysm passed for the words and acts of the indwelling\ndeity. Shrill cries of \"_Koi au! Koi au!_\" \"It is I! It is I!\" filled\nthe air, proclaiming the actual presence of the powerful spirit in the\nvessel of flesh and blood. In giving the oracular response the priest's\neyes protruded from their sockets and rolled as in a frenzy: his voice\nrose into a squeak: his face was pallid, his lips livid, his breathing\ndepressed, his whole appearance that of a furious madman. At last sweat\nburst from every pore, tears gushed from his eyes: the strain on the\norganism was visibly relieved; and the symptoms gradually abated. Then\nhe would look round with a vacant stare: the god within him would cry,\n\"I depart!\" and the man would announce the departure of the spirit by\nthrowing himself on his mat or striking the ground with his club, while\nblasts on a shell-trumpet conveyed to those at a distance the tidings\nthat the deity had withdrawn from mortal sight into the world\ninvisible.[710] \"I have seen,\" says Mr. Lorimer Fison, \"this possession,\nand a horrible sight it is. In one case, after the fit was over, for\nsome time the man's muscles and nerves twitched and quivered in an\nextraordinary way. He was naked except for his breech-clout, and on his\nnaked breast little snakes seemed to be wriggling for a moment or two\nbeneath his skin, disappearing and then suddenly reappearing in another\npart of his chest. When the _mbete_ (which we may translate 'priest' for\nwant of a better word) is seized by the possession, the god within him\ncalls out his own name in a stridulous tone, 'It is I! Katouviere!' or\nsome other name. At the next possession some other ancestor may declare\nhimself.\"[711]\n\n[Sidenote: Specimens of the oracular utterances of Fijian gods.]\n\nFrom this last description of an eye-witness we learn that the spirit\nwhich possessed a priest and spoke through him was often believed to be\nthat of a dead ancestor. Some of the inspired utterances of these\nprophets have been recorded. Here are specimens of Fijian inspiration.\nSpeaking in the name of the great god Ndengei, who was worshipped in the\nform of a serpent, the priest said: \"Great Fiji is my small club.\nMuaimbila is the head; Kamba is the handle. If I step on Muaimbila, I\nshall sink it into the sea, whilst Kamba shall rise to the sky. If I\nstep on Kamba, it will be lost in the sea, whilst Muaimbila would rise\ninto the skies. Yes, Viti Levu is my small war-club. I can turn it as I\nplease. I can turn it upside down.\" Again, speaking by the mouth of a\npriest, the god Tanggirianima once made the following observations: \"I\nand Kumbunavannua only are gods. I preside over wars, and do as I please\nwith sickness. But it is difficult for me to come here, as the foreign\ngod fills the place. If I attempt to descend by that pillar, I find it\npre-occupied by the foreign god. If I try another pillar, I find it the\nsame. However, we two are fighting the foreign god; and if we are\nvictorious, we will save the woman. I _will_ save the woman. She will\neat food to-day. Had I been sent for yesterday, she would have eaten\nthen,\" and so on. The woman, about whose case the deity was consulted\nand whom he announced his fixed intention of saving, died a few hours\nafterwards.[712]\n\n[Sidenote: Human sacrifices in Fiji.]\n\nFerocious and inveterate cannibals themselves, the Fijians naturally\nassumed that their gods were so too; hence human flesh was a common\noffering, indeed the most valued of all.[713] Formal human sacrifices\nwere frequent. The victims were usually taken from a distant tribe, and\nwhen war and violence failed to supply the demand, recourse was\nsometimes had to negotiation. However obtained, the victims destined for\nsacrifice were often kept for a time and fattened to make them better\neating. Then, tightly bound in a sitting posture, they were placed on\nhot stones in one of the usual ovens, and being covered over with leaves\nand earth were roasted alive, while the spectators roared with laughter\nat the writhings and contortions of the victims in their agony. When\ntheir struggles ceased and the bodies were judged to be done to a\nnicety, they were raked out of the oven, their faces painted black, and\nso carried to the temple, where they were presented to the gods, only,\nhowever, to be afterwards removed, cut up, and devoured by the\npeople.[714]\n\n[Sidenote: Human sacrifices offered when a king's house was built or a\ngreat new canoe launched.]\n\nHowever, roasting alive in ovens was not the only way in which men and\nwomen were made away with in the service of religion. When a king's\nhouse was built, men were buried alive in the holes dug to receive the\nposts: they were compelled to clasp the posts in their arms, and then\nthe earth was shovelled over them and rammed down. And when a large new\ncanoe was launched, it was hauled down to the sea over the bodies of\nliving men, who were pinioned and laid out at intervals on the beach to\nserve as rollers on which the great vessel glided smoothly into the\nwater, leaving a row of mangled corpses behind. The theory of both these\nmodes of sacrifice was explained by the Fijians to an Englishman who\nwitnessed them. I will quote their explanation in his words. \"They said\nin answer to the questions I put respecting the people being buried\nalive with the posts, that a house or palace of a king was just like a\nking's canoe: if the canoe was not hauled over men, as rollers, she\nwould not be expected to float long, and in like manner the palace could\nnot stand long if people were not to sit down and continually hold the\nposts up. But I said, 'How could they hold the posts up after they were\ndead?' They said, if they sacrificed their lives endeavouring to hold\nthe posts in their right position to their superior's _turanga kai na\nkalou_ (chiefs and god), that the virtue of the sacrifice would\ninstigate the gods to uphold the house after they were dead, and that\nthey were honoured by being considered adequate to such a noble\ntask.\"[715] Apparently the Fijians imagined that the souls of the dead\nmen would somehow strengthen the souls of the houses and canoes and so\nprolong the lives of these useful objects; for it is to be remembered\nthat according to Fijian theology houses and canoes as well as men and\nwomen were provided with immortal souls.\n\n[Sidenote: High estimation in which murder was held by the Fijians.]\n\nPerhaps the same theory of immortality partially accounts for the high\nhonour in which the Fijian held the act of murder and for the admiration\nwhich he bestowed on all murderers. \"Shedding of blood,\" we are told,\n\"to him is no crime, but a glory. Whoever may be the victim,--whether\nnoble or vulgar, old or young, man, woman, or child,--whether slain in\nwar, or butchered by treachery,--to be somehow an acknowledged murderer\nis the object of the Fijian's restless ambition.\"[716] It was customary\nthroughout Fiji to give honorary names to such as had clubbed to death a\nhuman being, of any age or either sex, during a war. The new epithet was\ngiven with the complimentary prefix _Koroi_. Mr. Williams once asked a\nman why he was called _Koroi_. \"Because,\" he replied, \"I, with several\nother men, found some women and children in a cave, drew them out and\nclubbed them, and then was consecrated.\"[717] Mr. Fison learned from\nanother stout young warrior that he had earned the honourable\ndistinction of _Koroi_ by lying in wait among the mangrove bushes at the\nwaterside and killing a miserable old woman of a hostile tribe, as she\ncrept along the mudflat seeking for shellfish. The man would have been\nequally honoured, adds Mr. Fison, if his victim had been a child. The\nhero of such an exploit, for two or three days after killing his man or\nwoman, was allowed to besmear his face and bust with a mixture of\nlampblack and oil which differed from the common black war-paint;\ndecorated with this badge of honour he strutted proudly through the\ntown, the cynosure of all eyes, an object of envy to his fellows and of\ntender interest to the girls. The old men shouted approval after him,\nthe women would _lulilu_ admiringly as he passed by, and the boys looked\nup to him as a superior being whose noble deeds they thirsted to\nemulate. Higher titles of honour still were bestowed on such as had\nslain their ten, or twenty, or thirty; and Mr. Fison tells us of a chief\nwhose admiring countrymen had to compound all these titles into one in\norder to set forth his superlative claims to glory. A man who had never\nkilled anybody was of very little account in this life, and he received\nthe penalty due to his sin in the life hereafter. For in the spirit land\nthe ghost of such a poor-spirited wretch was sentenced to what the\nFijians regarded as the most degrading of all punishments, to beat a\nheap of muck with his bloodless club.[718]\n\n[Sidenote: Ceremony of consecrating a manslayer. The temporary\nrestrictions laid on a manslayer were probably dictated by a fear of his\nvictim's ghost.]\n\nThe ceremony of consecrating a manslayer was elaborate. He was anointed\nwith red oil from the hair of his head to the soles of his feet; and\nwhen he had been thus incarnadined he exchanged clubs with the\nspectators, who believed that their weapons acquired a mysterious virtue\nby passing through his holy hands. Afterwards the anointed one, attended\nby the king and elders, solemnly stalked down to the sea and wetted the\nsoles of his feet in the water. Then the whole company returned to the\ntown, while the shell-trumpets sounded and the men raised a peculiar\nhoot. Custom required that a hut should be built in which the anointed\nman and his companions must pass the next three nights, during which the\nhero might not lie down, but had to sleep as he sat; all that time he\nmight not change his bark-cloth garment, nor wash the red paint away\nfrom his body, nor enter a house in which there was a woman.[719] The\nreason for observing these curious restrictions is not mentioned, but in\nthe light of similar practices, some of which have been noticed in these\nlectures,[720] we may conjecture that they were dictated by a fear of\nthe victim's ghost, who among savages generally haunts his slayer and\nwill do him a mischief, if he gets a chance. As it is especially in\ndreams that the naturally incensed spirit finds his opportunity, we can\nperhaps understand why the slayer might not lie down for the first three\nnights after the slaughter; the wrath of the ghost would then be at its\nhottest, and if he spied his murderer stretched in slumber on the\nground, the temptation to take an unfair advantage of him might have\nbeen too strong to be resisted. But when his anger had had time to cool\ndown or he had departed for his long home, as ghosts generally do after\na reasonable time, the precautions taken to baffle his vengeance might\nbe safely relaxed. Perhaps, as I have already hinted, the reverence\nwhich the Fijians felt for any man who had taken a human life, or at all\nevents the life of an enemy, may have partly sprung from a belief that\nthe slayer increased his own strength and valour either by subjugating\nthe ghost of his victim and employing it as his henchman, or perhaps\nrather by simply absorbing in some occult fashion the vital energy of\nthe slain. This view is confirmed by the permission given to the killer\nto assume the name of the killed, whenever his victim was a man of\ndistinguished rank;[721] for by taking the name he, according to an\nopinion common among savages, assumed the personality of his namesake.\n\n[Sidenote: Other funeral customs based on a fear of the ghost.]\n\nThe same fear of the ghost of the recently departed which manifested\nitself, if my interpretation of the customs is right, in the treatment\nof manslayers, seems to have imprinted itself, though in a more\nattenuated form, on some of the practices observed by Fijian mourners\nafter a natural, not a violent, death.\n\n[Sidenote: Persons who have handled a corpse forbidden to touch food.\nSeclusion of grave-diggers.]\n\nThus all the persons who had handled a corpse were forbidden to touch\nanything for some time afterwards; in particular they were strictly\ndebarred from touching their food with their hands; their victuals were\nbrought to them by others, and they were fed like infants by attendants\nor obliged to pick up their food with their mouths from the ground. The\ntime during which this burdensome restriction lasted was different\naccording to the rank of the deceased: in the case of great chiefs it\nlasted from two to ten months; in the case of a petty chief it did not\nexceed one month; and in the case of a common person a taboo of not more\nthan four days sufficed. When a chief's principal wife did not follow\nhim to the other world by being strangled or buried alive, she might not\ntouch her own food with her hands for three months. When the mourners\ngrew tired of being fed like infants or feeding themselves like dogs,\nthey sent word to the head chief and he let them know that he would\nremove the taboo whenever they pleased. Accordingly they sent him\npresents of pigs and other provisions, which he shared among the people.\nThen the tabooed persons went into a stream and washed themselves; after\nthat they caught some animal, such as a pig or a turtle, and wiped their\nhands on it, and the animal thereupon became sacred to the chief. Thus\nthe taboo was removed, and the men were free once more to work, to feed\nthemselves, and to live with their wives. Lazy and idle fellows\nwillingly undertook the duty of waiting on the dead, as it relieved them\nfor some time from the painful necessity of earning their own\nbread.[722] The reason why such persons might not touch food with their\nhands was probably a fear of the ghost or at all events of the infection\nof death; the ghost or the infection might be clinging to their hands\nand might so be transferred from them to their food with fatal effects.\nIn Great Fiji not every one might dig a chief's grave. The office was\nhereditary in a certain clan. After the funeral the grave-digger was\nshut up in a house and painted black from head to foot. When he had to\nmake a short excursion, he covered himself with a large mantle of\npainted native cloth and was supposed to be invisible. His food was\nbrought to the house after dark by silent bearers, who placed it just\nwithin the doorway. His seclusion might last for a long time;[723] it\nwas probably intended to screen him from the ghost.\n\n[Sidenote: Hair cropped and finger-joints cut off in mourning.]\n\nThe usual outward sign of mourning was to crop the hair or beard, or\nvery rarely both. Some people merely made bald the crown of the head.\nIndeed the Fijians were too vain of their hair to part with it lightly,\nand to conceal the loss which custom demanded of them on these occasions\nthey used to wear wigs, some of which were very skilfully made. The\npractice of cutting off finger-joints in mourning has already been\nmentioned; one early authority affirms and another denies that joints of\nthe little toes were similarly amputated by the living as a mark of\nsorrow for the dead. So common was the practice of lopping off the\nlittle fingers in mourning that till recently few of the older natives\ncould be found who had their hands intact; most of them indeed had lost\nthe little fingers of both hands. There was a Fijian saying that the\nfourth finger \"cried itself hoarse in vain for its absent mate\"\n(_droga-droga-wale_). The mutilation was usually confined to the\nrelations of the deceased, unless he happened to be one of the highest\nchiefs. However, the severed joints were often sent by poor people to\nwealthy families in mourning, who never failed to reward the senders for\nso delicate a mark of sympathy. Female mourners burned their skin into\nblisters by applying lighted rolls of bark-cloth to various parts of\ntheir bodies; the brands so produced might be seen on their arms,\nshoulders, necks, and breasts.[724] During the mourning for a king\npeople fasted till evening for ten or twenty days; the coast for miles\nwas tabooed and no one might fish there; the nuts also were made sacred.\nSome people in token of grief for a bereavement would abstain from fish,\nfruit, or other pleasant food for months together; others would dress in\nleaves instead of in cloth.[725]\n\n[Sidenote: Men whipped by women in time of mourning for a chief.]\n\nThough the motive for these observances is not mentioned, we may suppose\nthat they were intended to soothe and please the ghost by testifying to\nthe sorrow felt by the survivors at his decease. It is more doubtful\nwhether the same explanation would apply to another custom which the\nFijians used to observe in mourning. During ten days after a death,\nwhile the soul of a deceased chief was thought to be still lingering in\nor near his body, all the women of the town provided themselves with\nlong whips, knotted with shells, and applied them with great vigour to\nthe bodies of the men, raising weals and inflicting bloody wounds, while\nthe men retorted by flirting pellets of clay from splinters of\nbamboo.[726] According to Mr. Williams, this ceremony was performed on\nthe tenth day or earlier, and he adds: \"I have seen grave personages,\nnot accustomed to move quickly, flying with all possible speed before a\ncompany of such women. Sometimes the men retaliate by bespattering their\nassailants with mud; but they use no violence, as it seems to be a day\non which they are bound to succumb.\"[727] As the soul of the dead was\nbelieved to quit his body and depart to his destined abode on the tenth\nday after death,[728] the scourging of the men by the women was probably\nsupposed in some way to speed the parting guest on his long journey.\n\n[Sidenote: The dead taken out of the house by a special opening made in\na wall. Examples of the custom among Aryan peoples.]\n\nWhen a certain king of Fiji died, the side of the house was broken down\nto allow the body to be carried out, though there were doorways wide\nenough for the purpose close at hand. The missionary who records the\nfact could not learn the reason of it.[729] The custom of taking the\ndead out of the house by a special opening, which is afterwards closed\nup, has not been confined to Fiji; on the contrary it has been practised\nby a multitude of peoples, savage, barbarous, and civilised, in many\nparts of the world. For example, it was an old Norse rule that a corpse\nmight not be carried out of the house by the door which was used by the\nliving; hence a hole was made in the wall at the back of the dead man's\nhead and he was taken out through it backwards, or a hole was dug in the\nground under the south wall and the body was drawn out through it.[730]\nThe custom may have been at one time common to all the Aryan or\nIndo-european peoples, for it is mentioned in other of their ancient\nrecords and has been observed by widely separated branches of that great\nfamily down to modern times. Thus, the Zend-Avesta prescribes that, when\na death has occurred, a breach shall be made in the wall and the corpse\ncarried out through it by two men, who have first stripped off their\nclothes.[731] In Russia \"the corpse was often carried out of the house\nthrough a window, or through a hole made for the purpose, and the custom\nis still kept up in many parts.\"[732] Speaking of the Hindoos a French\ntraveller of the eighteenth century says that \"instead of carrying the\ncorpse out by the door they make an opening in the wall by which they\npass it out in a seated posture, and the hole is closed up after the\nceremony.\"[733] Among various Hindoo castes it is still customary, when\na death has occurred on an inauspicious day, to remove the corpse from\nthe house not through the door, but through a temporary hole made in the\nwall.[734] Old German law required that the corpses of criminals and\nsuicides should be carried out through a hole under the threshold.[735]\nIn the Highlands of Scotland the bodies of suicides were not taken out\nof the house for burial by the doors, but through an opening made\nbetween the wall and the thatch.[736]\n\n[Sidenote: Examples of the custom among non-Aryan peoples.]\n\nBut widespread as such customs have been among Indo-european peoples,\nthey have been by no means confined to that branch of the human race. It\nwas an ancient Chinese practice to knock down part of the wall of a\nhouse for the purpose of carrying out a corpse.[737] Some of the\nCanadian Indians would never take a corpse out of the hut by the\nordinary door, but always lifted a piece of the bark wall near which the\ndead man lay and then drew him through the opening.[738] Among the\nEsquimaux of Bering Strait a corpse is usually raised through the\nsmoke-hole in the roof, but is never taken out by the doorway. Should\nthe smoke-hole be too small, an opening is made in the rear of the house\nand then closed again.[739] When a Greenlander dies, \"they do not carry\nout the corpse through the entry of the house, but lift it through the\nwindow, or if he dies in a tent, they unfasten one of the skins behind,\nand convey it out that way. A woman behind waves a lighted chip backward\nand forward, and says: 'There is nothing more to be had here.'\"[740]\nSimilarly the Hottentots, Bechuanas, Basutos, Marotse, Barongo, and many\nother tribes of South and West Africa never carry a corpse out by the\ndoor of the hut but always by a special opening made in the wall.[741] A\nsimilar custom is observed by the maritime Gajos of Sumatra[742] and by\nsome of the Indian tribes of North-west America, such as the Tlingit and\nthe Haida.[743] Among the Lepchis of Sikhim, whose houses are raised on\npiles, the dead are taken out by a hole made in the floor.[744] Dwellers\nin tents who practise this custom remove a corpse from the tent, not by\nthe door, but through an opening made by lifting up an edge of the\ntent-cover: this is done by European gypsies[745] and by the Koryak of\nnorth-eastern Asia.[746]\n\n[Sidenote: The motive of the custom is a desire to prevent the ghost\nfrom returning to the house.]\n\nIn all such customs the original motive probably was a fear of the ghost\nand a wish to exclude him from the house, lest he should return and\ncarry off the survivors with him to the spirit land. Ghosts are commonly\ncredited with a low degree of intelligence, and it appears to be\nsupposed that they can only find their way back to a house by the\naperture through which their bodies were carried out. Hence people made\na practice of taking a corpse out not by the door, but through an\nopening specially made for the purpose, which was afterwards blocked up,\nso that when the ghost returned from the grave and attempted to enter\nthe house, he found the orifice closed and was obliged to turn away\ndisappointed. That this was the train of reasoning actually followed by\nsome peoples may be gathered from the explanations which they themselves\ngive of the custom. Thus among the Tuski of Alaska \"those who die a\nnatural death are carried out through a hole cut in the back of the hut\nor _yarang_. This is immediately closed up, that the spirit of the dead\nman may not find his way back.\"[747] Among the Esquimaux of Hudson Bay\n\"the nearest relatives on approach of death remove the invalid to the\noutside of the house, for if he should die within he must not be carried\nout of the door but through a hole cut in the side wall, and it must\nthen be carefully closed to prevent the spirit of the person from\nreturning.\"[748] Again, \"when a Siamese is dead, his relations deposit\nthe body in a coffin well covered. They do not pass it through the door\nbut let it down into the street by an opening which they make in the\nwall. They also carry it thrice round the house, running at the top of\ntheir speed. They believe that if they did not take this precaution, the\ndead man would remember the way by which he had passed, and that he\nwould return by night to do some ill turn to his family.\"[749] In\nTravancore the body of a dead rajah \"is taken out of the palace through\na breach in the wall, made for the purpose, to avoid pollution of the\ngate, and afterwards built up again so that the departed spirit may not\nreturn through the gate to trouble the survivors.\"[750] Among the Kayans\nof Borneo, whose dwellings are raised on piles above the ground, the\ncoffin is conveyed out of the house by lowering it with rattans either\nthrough the floor, planks being taken up for the purpose, or under the\neaves at the side of the gallery. \"In this way they avoid carrying it\ndown the house-ladder; and it seems to be felt that this precaution\nrenders it more difficult for the ghost to find its way back to the\nhouse.\"[751] Among the Cheremiss of Russia, \"old custom required that\nthe corpse should not be carried out by the door but through a breach in\nthe north wall, where there is usually a sash-window. But the custom has\nlong been obsolete, even among the heathen, and only very old people\nspeak of it. They explain it as follows: to carry it out by the door\nwould be to shew the _Asyren_ (the dead man) the right way into the\nhouse, whereas a breach in the wooden wall is immediately closed by\nreplacing the beams in position, and thus the _Asyren_ would in vain\nseek for an entrance.\"[752] The Samoyeds never carry a corpse out of the\nhut by the door, but lift up a piece of the reindeer-skin covering and\ndraw the body out, head foremost, through the opening. They think that\nif they were to carry a corpse out by the door, the ghost would soon\nreturn and fetch away other members of the family.[753] On the same\nprinciple, as soon as the Indians of Tumupasa, in north-west Bolivia,\nhave carried a corpse out of the house, \"they shift the door to the\nopposite side, in order that the deceased may not be able to find\nit.\"[754] Once more, in Mecklenburg \"it is a law regulating the return\nof the dead that they are compelled to return by the same way by which\nthe corpse was removed from the house. In the villages of Picher,\nBresegard, and others the people used to have movable thresholds at the\nhouse-doors, which, being fitted into the door-posts, could be shoved\nup. The corpse was then carried out of the house under the threshold,\nand therefore could not return over it.\"[755]\n\n[Sidenote: Some people only remove in this manner the bodies of persons\nwhose ghosts are especially feared.]\n\nEven without such express testimonies to the meaning of the custom we\nmay infer from a variety of evidence that the real motive for practising\nit is a fear of the ghost and a wish to prevent his return. For it is to\nbe observed that some peoples do not carry out all their dead by a\nspecial opening, but that they accord this peculiar mode of removal only\nto persons who die under unlucky or disgraceful circumstances, and whose\nghosts accordingly are more than usually dreaded. Thus we have seen that\nsome modern Hindoo castes observe the custom only in the case of people\nwho have died on inauspicious days; and that in Germany and the\nHighlands of Scotland this mode of removal was specially reserved for\nthe bodies of suicides, whose ghosts are exceedingly feared by many\npeople, as appears from the stringent precautions taken against\nthem.[756] Again, among the Kavirondo of Central Africa, \"when a woman\ndies without having borne a child, she is carried out of the back of the\nhouse. A hole is made in the wall and the corpse is ignominiously pushed\nthrough the hole and carried some distance to be buried, as it is\nconsidered a curse to die without a child. If the woman has given birth\nto a child, then her corpse is carried out through the front door and\nburied in the verandah of the house.\"[757] In Brittany a stillborn child\nis removed from the house, not by the door, but by the window; \"for if\nby ill-luck it should chance otherwise, the mothers who should pass\nthrough that fatal door would bear nothing but stillborn infants.\"[758]\nIn Perche, another province of France, the same rule is observed with\nregard to stillborn children, though the reason for it is not\nalleged.[759] But of all ghosts none perhaps inspire such deep and\nuniversal terror as the ghosts of women who have died in childbed, and\nextraordinary measures are accordingly taken to disable these dangerous\nspirits from returning and doing a mischief to the living.[760] Amongst\nthe precautions adopted to keep them at bay is the custom of carrying\ntheir corpses out of the house by a special opening, which is afterwards\nblocked up. Thus in Laos, a province of Siam, \"the bodies of women dying\nin childbirth, or within a month afterwards, are not even taken out of\nthe house in the ordinary way by the door, but are let down through the\nfloor.\"[761] The Kachins of Burma stand in such fear of the ghosts of\nwomen dying in childbed that no sooner has such a death occurred than\nthe husband, the children, and almost all the people in the house take\nto flight lest the woman's ghost should bite them. \"The body of the\ndeceased must be burned as soon as possible in order to punish her for\ndying such a death, and also in order to frighten her ghost (_minla_).\nThey bandage her eyes with her own hair and with leaves to prevent her\nfrom seeing anything; they wrap her in a mat, and they carry her out of\nthe house, not by the ordinary door, but by an opening made for the\npurpose in the wall or the floor of the room where she breathed her\nlast. Then they convey her to a deep ravine, where no one dares to pass;\nthey lay her in the midst of a great pyre with all the clothes,\njewellery, and other objects which belonged to her and of which she made\nuse; and they burn the whole to cinders, to which they refuse the rites\nof sepulture. Thus they destroy all the property of the unfortunate\nwoman, in order that her soul may not think of coming to fetch it\nafterwards and to bite people in the attempt.\"[762] Similarly among the\nKayans or Bahaus of Central Borneo \"the corpses of women dying in\nchildbed excite a special horror; no man and no young woman may touch\nthem; they are not carried out of the house through the front gallery,\nbut are thrown out of the back wall of the dwelling, some boards having\nbeen removed for the purpose.\"[763] Indeed so great is the alarm felt by\nthe Kayans at a miscarriage of this sort that when a woman labours hard\nin childbed, the news quickly spreads through the large communal house\nin which the people dwell; and if the attendants begin to fear a fatal\nissue, the whole household is thrown into consternation. All the men,\nfrom the chief down to the boys, will flee from the house, or, if it is\nnight, they will clamber up among the beams of the roof and there hide\nin terror; and, if the worst happens, they remain there until the\nwoman's corpse has been removed from the house for burial.[764]\n\n[Sidenote: Sometimes the custom is observed when the original motive for\nit is forgotten.]\n\nSometimes, while the custom continues to be practised, the idea which\ngave rise to it has either become obscured or has been incorrectly\nreported. Thus we are told that when a death has taken place among the\nIndians of North-west America \"the body is at once taken out of the\nhouse through an opening in the wall from which the boards have been\nremoved. It is believed that his ghost would kill every one if the body\nwere to stay in the house.\"[765] Such a belief, while it would furnish\nan excellent reason for hurrying the corpse out of the house as soon as\npossible, does not explain why it should be carried out through a\nspecial opening instead of through the door. Again, when a Queen of Bali\ndied, \"the body was drawn out of a large aperture made in the wall to\nthe right-hand side of the door, in the absurd opinion of _cheating the\ndevil_, whom these islanders believe to lie in wait in the ordinary\npassage.\"[766] Again, in Mukden, the capital of Manchuria, the corpses\nof children \"must not be carried out of a door or window, but through a\nnew or disused opening, in order that the evil spirit which causes the\ndisease may not enter. The belief is that the Heavenly Dog which eats\nthe sun at an eclipse demands the bodies of children, and that if they\nare denied to him he will bring certain calamity on the household.\"[767]\nThese explanations of the custom are probably misinterpretations adopted\nat a later time when its original meaning was forgotten. For a custom\noften outlives the memory of the motives which gave it birth. And as\nroyalty is very conservative of ancient usages, it would be no matter\nfor surprise if the corpses of kings should continue to be carried out\nthrough special openings long after the bodies of commoners were allowed\nto be conveyed in commonplace fashion through the ordinary door. In\npoint of fact we find the old custom observed by kings in countries\nwhere it has apparently ceased to be observed by their subjects. Thus\namong the Sakalava and Antimerina of Madagascar, \"when a sovereign or a\nprince of the royal family dies within the enclosure of the king's\npalace, the corpse must be carried out of the palace, not by the door,\nbut by a breach made for the purpose in the wall; the new sovereign\ncould not pass through the door that had been polluted by the passage of\na dead body.\"[768] Similarly among the Macassars and Buginese of\nSouthern Celebes there is in the king's palace a window reaching to the\nfloor through which on his decease the king's body is carried out.[769]\nThat such a custom is only a limitation to kings of a rule which once\napplied to everybody becomes all the more probable, when we learn that\nin the island of Saleijer, which lies to the south of Celebes, each\nhouse has, besides its ordinary windows, a large window in the form of a\ndoor, through which, and not through the ordinary entrance, every corpse\nis regularly removed at death.[770]\n\n[Sidenote: Another Fijian funeral custom.]\n\nTo return from this digression to Fiji, we may conclude with a fair\ndegree of probability that when the side of a Fijian king's house was\nbroken down to allow his corpse to be carried out, though there were\ndoors at hand wide enough for the purpose, the original intention was to\nprevent the return of his ghost, who might have proved a very unwelcome\nintruder to his successor on the throne. But I cannot offer any\nexplanation of another Fijian funeral custom. You may remember that in\nFiji it was customary after the death of a chief to circumcise such lads\nas had reached a suitable age.[771] Well, on the fifth day after a\nchief's death a hole used to be dug under the floor of a temple and one\nof the newly circumcised lads was secreted in it. Then his companions\nfastened the doors of the temple securely and ran away. When the lad\nhidden in the hole blew on a shell-trumpet, the friends of the deceased\nchief surrounded the temple and thrust their spears at him through the\nfence.[772] What the exact significance of this curious rite may have\nbeen, I cannot even conjecture; but we may assume that it had something\nto do with the state of the late chief's soul, which was probably\nsupposed to be lingering in the neighbourhood.\n\n[Sidenote: Fijian notions concerning the other world and the way\nthither. The River of the Souls.]\n\nIt remains to say a little as to the notions which the Fijians\nentertained of the other world and the way thither. After death the\nsouls of the departed were believed to set out for Bulu or Bulotu, there\nto dwell with the great serpent-shaped god Ndengei. His abode seems to\nhave been generally placed in the Nakauvandra mountains, towards the\nwestern end of Viti Levu, the largest of the Fijian Islands. But on this\nsubject the ideas of the people were, as might be expected, both vague\nand inconsistent. Each tribe filled in the details of the mythical land\nand the mythical journey to suit its own geographical position. The\nsouls had generally to cross water, either the sea or a river, and they\nwere put across it by a ghostly ferryman, who treated the passengers\nwith scant courtesy.[773] According to some people, the River of the\nSouls (_Waini-yalo_) is what mortals now call the Ndravo River. When the\nghosts arrived on the bank, they hailed the ferryman and he paddled his\ncanoe over to receive them. But before he would take them on board they\nhad to state whether they proposed to ship as steerage or as cabin\npassengers, and he gave them their berths accordingly; for there was no\nmixing up of the classes in the ferry-boat; the ghosts of chiefs kept\nstrictly to themselves at one end of the canoe, and the ghosts of\ncommoners huddled together at the other end.[774] The natives of\nKandavu, in Southern Fiji, say that on clear days they often see Bulotu,\nthe spirit land, lying away across the sea with the sun shining sweetly\non it; but they have long ago given up all hope of making their way to\nthat happy land.[775] They seem to say with the Demon Lover,\n\n  \"O yonder are the hills of heaven\n    Where you will never win.\"\n\n[Sidenote: The place of embarcation for the ghosts.]\n\nThough every island and almost every town had its own portal through\nwhich the spirits passed on their long journey to the far country, yet\nthere was one called Nai Thombothombo, which appears to have been more\npopular and frequented than any of the others as a place of embarcation\nfor ghosts. It is at the northern point of Mbua Bay, and the ghosts shew\ntheir good taste in choosing it as their port to sail from, for really\nit is a beautiful spot. The foreland juts out between two bays. A\nshelving beach slopes up to precipitous cliffs, their rocky face mantled\nwith a thick green veil of creepers. Further inland the shade of tall\nforest trees and the softened gloom cast by crags and rocks lend to the\nscene an air of solemnity and hallowed repose well fitted to impress the\nsusceptible native mind with an awful sense of the invisible beings that\nhaunt these sacred groves. Natives have been known to come on pilgrimage\nto the spot expecting to meet ghosts and gods face to face.[776]\n\n[Sidenote: The ghost and the pandanus tree.]\n\nMany are the perils and dangers that beset the Path of the Souls (_Sala\nNi Yalo_). Of these one of the most celebrated is a certain pandanus\ntree, at which every ghost must throw the ghost of the real whale's\ntooth which was placed for the purpose in his hand at burial. If he hits\nthe tree, it is well for him; for it shews that his friends at home are\nstrangling his wives, and accordingly he sits down contentedly to wait\nfor the ghosts of his helpmeets, who will soon come hurrying to him. But\nif he makes a bad shot and misses the tree, the poor ghost is very\ndisconsolate, for he knows that his wives are not being strangled, and\nwho then will cook for him in the spirit land? It is a bitter thought,\nand he reflects with sorrow and anger on the ingratitude of men and\nespecially of women. His reflections, as reported by the best authority,\nrun thus: \"How is this? For a long time I planted food for my wife, and\nit was also of great use to her friends: why then is she not allowed to\nfollow me? Do my friends love me no better than this, after so many\nyears of toil? Will no one, in love to me, strangle my wife?\"[777]\n\n[Sidenote: Hard fate of unmarried ghosts.]\n\nBut if the lot of a married ghost, whose wives have not been murdered,\nis hard, it is nevertheless felicity itself compared to the fate of\nbachelor ghosts. In the first place there is a terrible being called the\nGreat Woman, who lurks in a shady defile, ready to pounce out on him;\nand if he escapes her clutches it is only to fall in with a much worse\nmonster, of the name of Nangganangga, from whom there is, humanly\nspeaking, no escape. This ferocious goblin lays himself out to catch the\nsouls of bachelors, and so vigilant and alert is he that not a single\nunmarried Fijian ghost is known to have ever reached the mansions of the\nblest. He sits beside a big black stone at high-water mark waiting for\nhis prey. The bachelor ghosts are aware that it would be useless to\nattempt to march past him when the tide is in; so they wait till it is\nlow water and then try to sneak past him on the wet sand left by the\nretiring billows. Vain hope! Nangganangga, sitting by the stone, only\nsmiles grimly and asks, with withering sarcasm, whether they imagine\nthat the tide will never flow again? It does so only too soon for the\npoor ghosts, driving them with every breaking wave nearer and nearer to\ntheir implacable enemy, till the water laps on the fatal stone, and then\nhe grips the shivering souls and dashes them to pieces on the big black\nblock.[778]\n\n[Sidenote: The Killer of Souls.]\n\nAgain, there is a very terrible giant armed with a great axe, who lies\nin wait for all and sundry. He makes no nice distinction between the\nmarried and the unmarried, but strikes out at all ghosts\nindiscriminately. Those whom he wounds dare not present themselves in\ntheir damaged state to the great God Ndengei; so they never reach the\nhappy fields, but are doomed to roam the rugged mountains disconsolate.\nHowever, many ghosts contrive to slip past him unscathed. It is said\nthat after the introduction of fire-arms into the islands the ghost of a\ncertain chief made very good use of a musket which had been\nprovidentially buried with his body. When the giant drew near and was\nabout to lunge out with the axe in his usual style, the ghost discharged\nthe blunderbuss in his face, and while the giant was fully engaged in\ndodging the hail of bullets, the chief rushed past him and now enjoys\ncelestial happiness.[779] Some lay the scene of this encounter a little\nbeyond the town of Nambanaggatai; for it is to be remembered that many\nof the places in the Path of the Souls were identified with real places\nin the Fijian Islands. And the name of the giant is Samu-yalo, that is,\nthe Killer of Souls. He artfully conceals himself in some mangrove\nbushes just beyond the town, from which he rushes out in the nick of\ntime to fell the passing ghosts. Whenever he kills a ghost, he cooks and\neats him and that is the end of the poor ghost. It is the second death.\nThe highway to the Elysian fields runs, or used to run, right through\nthe town of Nambanaggatai; so all the doorways of the houses were placed\nopposite each other to allow free and uninterrupted passage to the\ninvisible travellers. And the inhabitants spoke to each other in low\ntones and communicated at a little distance by signs. The screech of a\nparoquet in the woods was the signal of the approach of a ghost or\nghosts; the number of screeches was proportioned to the number of the\nghosts,--one screech, one ghost, and so on.[780]\n\n[Sidenote: A trap for unwary ghosts.]\n\nSouls who escape the Killer of Souls pass on till they come to\nNaindelinde, one of the highest peaks of the Kauvandra mountains. Here\nthe path ends abruptly on the brink of a precipice, the foot of which is\nwashed by a deep lake. Over the edge of the precipice projects a large\nsteer-oar, and the handle is held either by the great god Ndengei\nhimself or, according to the better opinion, by his deputy. When a ghost\ncomes up and peers ruefully over the precipice, the deputy accosts him.\n\"Under what circumstances,\" he asks, \"do you come to us? How did you\nconduct yourself in the other world?\" Should the ghost be a man of rank,\nhe may say, \"I am a great chief. I lived as a chief, and my conduct was\nthat of a chief. I had great wealth, many wives, and ruled over a\npowerful people. I have destroyed many towns, and slain many in war.\"\n\"Good, good,\" says the deputy, \"just sit down on the blade of that oar,\nand refresh yourself in the cool breeze.\" If the ghost is unwary enough\nto accept the invitation, he has no sooner seated himself on the blade\nof the oar with his legs dangling over the abyss, than the deputy-deity\ntilts up the other end of the oar and precipitates him into the deep\nwater, far far below. A loud smack is heard as the ghost collides with\nthe water, there is a splash, a gurgle, a ripple, and all is over. The\nghost has gone to his account in Murimuria, a very second-rate sort of\nheaven, if it is nothing worse. But a ghost who is in favour with the\ngreat god Ndengei is warned by him not to sit down on the blade of the\noar but on the handle. The ghost takes the hint and seats himself firmly\non the safe end of the oar; and when the deputy-deity tries to heave it\nup, he cannot, for he has no purchase. So the ghost remains master of\nthe situation, and after an interval for refreshment is sent back to\nearth to be deified.[781]\n\n[Sidenote: Murimuria, an inferior sort of heaven. The Fijian Elysium.]\n\nIn Murimuria, which, as I said, is an inferior sort of heaven, the\ndeparted souls by no means lead a life of pure and unmixed enjoyment.\nSome of them are punished for the sins they committed in the flesh. But\nthe Fijian notion of sin differs widely from ours. Thus we saw that the\nghosts of men who did no murder in their lives were punished for their\nnegligence by having to pound muck with clubs. Again, people who had not\ntheir ears bored on earth are forced in Hades to go about for ever\nbearing on their shoulders one of the logs of wood on which bark-cloth\nis beaten out with mallets, and all who see the sinner bending under the\nload jeer at him. Again, women who were not tattooed in their life are\nchased by the female ghosts, who scratch and cut and tear them with\nsharp shells, giving them no respite; or they scrape the flesh from\ntheir bones and bake it into bread for the gods. And ghosts who have\ndone anything to displease the gods are laid flat on their faces in rows\nand converted into taro beds. But the few who do find their way into the\nFijian Elysium are blest indeed. There the sky is always cloudless; the\ngroves are perfumed with delicious scents; the open glades in the forest\nare pleasant; there is abundance of all that heart can desire. Language\nfails to describe the ineffable bliss of the happy land. There the souls\nof the truly good, who have murdered many of their fellows on earth and\nfed on their roasted bodies, are lapped in joy for ever.[782]\n\n[Sidenote: Fijian doctrine of transmigration.]\n\nNevertheless the souls of the dead were not universally believed to\ndepart by the Spirit Path to the other world or to stay there for ever.\nTo a certain extent the doctrines of transmigration found favour with\nthe Fijians. Some of them held that the spirits of the dead wandered\nabout the villages in various shapes and could make themselves visible\nor invisible at pleasure. The places which these vagrant souls loved to\nhaunt were known to the people, who in passing by them were wont to make\npropitiatory offerings of food or cloth. For that reason, too, they were\nvery loth to go abroad on a dark night lest they should come bolt upon a\nghost. Further, it was generally believed that the soul of a celebrated\nchief might after death enter into some young man of the tribe and\nanimate him to deeds of valour. Persons so distinguished were pointed\nout and regarded as highly favoured; great respect was paid to them,\nthey enjoyed many personal privileges, and their opinions were treated\nwith much consideration.[783]\n\n[Sidenote: Few souls saved under the old Fijian dispensation.]\n\nOn the whole, when we survey the many perils which beset the way to the\nFijian heaven, and the many risks which the souls of the dead ran of\ndying the second death in the other world or of being knocked on the\nhead by the living in this, we shall probably agree with the missionary\nMr. Williams in concluding that under the old Fijian dispensation there\nwere few indeed that were saved. \"Few, comparatively,\" he says, \"are\nleft to inhabit the regions of Mbulu, and the immortality even of these\nis sometimes disputed. The belief in a future state is universal in\nFiji; but their superstitious notions often border upon transmigration,\nand sometimes teach an eventual annihilation.\"[784]\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n[Sidenote: Concluding observations.]\n\nHere I must break off my survey of the natural belief in immortality\namong mankind. At the outset I had expected to carry the survey further,\nbut I have already exceeded the usual limits of these lectures and I\nmust not trespass further on your patience. Yet the enquiry which I have\nopened seems worthy to be pursued, and if circumstances should admit of\nit, I shall hope at some future time to resume the broken thread of\nthese researches and to follow it a little further through the labyrinth\nof human history. Be that as it may, I will now conclude with a few\ngeneral observations suggested by the facts which I have laid before\nyou.\n\n[Sidenote: Strength and universality of the natural belief in\nimmortality among savages. Wars between savage tribes spring in large\nmeasure from their belief in immortality. Economic loss involved in\nsacrifices to the dead.]\n\nIn the first place, then, it is impossible not to be struck by the\nstrength, and perhaps we may say the universality, of the natural belief\nin immortality among the savage races of mankind. With them a life after\ndeath is not a matter of speculation and conjecture, of hope and fear;\nit is a practical certainty which the individual as little dreams of\ndoubting as he doubts the reality of his conscious existence. He assumes\nit without enquiry and acts upon it without hesitation, as if it were\none of the best-ascertained truths within the limits of human\nexperience. The belief influences his attitude towards the higher\npowers, the conduct of his daily life, and his behaviour towards his\nfellows; more than that, it regulates to a great extent the relations of\nindependent communities to each other. For the state of war, which\nnormally exists between many, if not most, neighbouring savage tribes,\nsprings in large measure directly from their belief in immortality;\nsince one of the commonest motives for hostility is a desire to appease\nthe angry ghosts of friends, who are supposed to have perished by the\nbaleful arts of sorcerers in another tribe, and who, if vengeance is not\ninflicted on their real or imaginary murderers, will wreak their fury on\ntheir undutiful fellow-tribesmen. Thus the belief in immortality has not\nmerely coloured the outlook of the individual upon the world; it has\ndeeply affected the social and political relations of humanity in all\nages; for the religious wars and persecutions, which distracted and\ndevastated Europe for ages, were only the civilised equivalents of the\nbattles and murders which the fear of ghosts has instigated amongst\nalmost all races of savages of whom we possess a record. Regarded from\nthis point of view, the faith in a life hereafter has been sown like\ndragons' teeth on the earth and has brought forth crop after crop of\narmed men, who have turned their swords against each other. And when we\nconsider further the gratuitous and wasteful destruction of property as\nwell as of life which is involved in sacrifices to the dead, we must\nadmit that with all its advantages the belief in immortality has\nentailed heavy economical losses upon the races--and they are\npractically all the races of the world--who have indulged in this\nexpensive luxury. It is not for me to estimate the extent and gravity of\nthe consequences, moral, social, political, and economic, which flow\ndirectly from the belief in immortality. I can only point to some of\nthem and commend them to the serious attention of historians and\neconomists, as well as of moralists and theologians.\n\n[Sidenote: How does the savage belief in immortality bear on the\nquestion of the truth or falsehood of that belief in general? The answer\ndepends to some extent on the view we take of human nature. The view of\nthe grandeur and dignity of man.]\n\nMy second observation concerns, not the practical consequences of the\nbelief in immortality, but the question of its truth or falsehood. That,\nI need hardly say, is an even more difficult problem than the other, and\nas I intimated at the outset of the lectures I find myself wholly\nincompetent to solve it. Accordingly I have confined myself to the\ncomparatively easy task of describing some of the forms of the belief\nand some of the customs to which it has given rise, without presuming to\npass judgment upon them. I must leave it to others to place my\ncollections of facts in the scales and to say whether they incline the\nbalance for or against the truth of this momentous belief, which has\nbeen so potent for good or ill in history. In every enquiry much depends\nupon the point of view from which the enquirer approaches his subject;\nhe will see it in different proportions and in different lights\naccording to the angle and the distance from which he regards it. The\nsubject under discussion in the present case is human nature itself; and\nas we all know, men have formed very different estimates of themselves\nand their species. On the one hand, there are those who love to dwell on\nthe grandeur and dignity of man, and who swell with pride at the\ncontemplation of the triumphs which his genius has achieved in the\nvisionary world of imagination as well as in the realm of nature.\nSurely, they say, such a glorious creature was not born for mortality,\nto be snuffed out like a candle, to fade like a flower, to pass away\nlike a breath. Is all that penetrating intellect, that creative fancy,\nthat vaulting ambition, those noble passions, those far-reaching hopes,\nto come to nothing, to shrivel up into a pinch of dust? It is not so, it\ncannot be. Man is the flower of this wide world, the lord of creation,\nthe crown and consummation of all things, and it is to wrong him and his\ncreator to imagine that the grave is the end of all. To those who take\nthis lofty view of human nature it is easy and obvious to find in the\nsimilar beliefs of savages a welcome confirmation of their own cherished\nfaith, and to insist that a conviction so widely spread and so firmly\nheld must be based on some principle, call it instinct or intuition or\nwhat you will, which is deeper than logic and cannot be confuted by\nreasoning.\n\n[Sidenote: The view of the pettiness and insignificance of man.]\n\nOn the other hand, there are those who take a different view of human\nnature, and who find in its contemplation a source of humility rather\nthan of pride. They remind us how weak, how ignorant, how short-lived is\nthe individual, how infirm of purpose, how purblind of vision, how\nsubject to pain and suffering, to diseases that torture the body and\nwreck the mind. They say that if the few short years of his life are not\nwasted in idleness and vice, they are spent for the most part in a\nperpetually recurring round of trivialities, in the satisfaction of\nmerely animal wants, in eating, drinking, and slumber. When they survey\nthe history of mankind as a whole, they find the record chequered and\nstained by folly and crime, by broken faith, insensate ambition, wanton\naggression, injustice, cruelty, and lust, and seldom illumined by the\nmild radiance of wisdom and virtue. And when they turn their eyes from\nman himself to the place he occupies in the universe, how are they\noverwhelmed by a sense of his littleness and insignificance! They see\nthe earth which he inhabits dwindle to a speck in the unimaginable\ninfinities of space, and the brief span of his existence shrink into a\nmoment in the inconceivable infinities of time. And they ask, Shall a\ncreature so puny and frail claim to live for ever, to outlast not only\nthe present starry system but every other that, when earth and sun and\nstars have crumbled into dust, shall be built upon their ruins in the\nlong long hereafter? It is not so, it cannot be. The claim is nothing\nbut the outcome of exaggerated self-esteem, of inflated vanity; it is\nthe claim of a moth, shrivelled in the flame of a candle, to outlive the\nsun, the claim of a worm to survive the destruction of this terrestrial\nglobe in which it burrows. Those who take this view of the pettiness and\ntransitoriness of man compared with the vastness and permanence of the\nuniverse find little in the beliefs of savages to alter their opinion.\nThey see in savage conceptions of the soul and its destiny nothing but a\nproduct of childish ignorance, the hallucinations of hysteria, the\nravings of insanity, or the concoctions of deliberate fraud and\nimposture. They dismiss the whole of them as a pack of superstitions and\nlies, unworthy the serious attention of a rational mind; and they say\nthat if such drivellings do not refute the belief in immortality, as\nindeed from the nature of things they cannot do, they are at least\nfitted to invest its high-flown pretensions with an air of ludicrous\nabsurdity.\n\n[Sidenote: The conclusion left open.]\n\nSuch are the two opposite views which I conceive may be taken of the\nsavage testimony to the survival of our conscious personality after\ndeath. I do not presume to adopt the one or the other. It is enough for\nme to have laid a few of the facts before you. I leave you to draw your\nown conclusion.\n\n[Footnote 701: Berthold Seeman, _Viti, an Account of a Government\nMission to the Vitian or Fijian Islands_ (Cambridge, 1862), pp. 391\n_sq._]\n\n[Footnote 702: Th. Williams, _Fiji and the Fijians_, i. 216.]\n\n[Footnote 703: Th. Williams, _op. cit._ i. 216, 218 _sq._; Basil\nThomson, _The Fijians_, p. 112.]\n\n[Footnote 704: Hazlewood, quoted by Capt. J. E. Erskine, _Journal of a\nCruise among the Islands of the Western Pacific_ (London, 1853), pp. 246\n_sq._]\n\n[Footnote 705: Ch. Wilkes, _Narrative of the United States Exploring\nExpedition_, New Edition (New York, 1851), iii. 83 _sq._; Th. Williams,\n_Fiji and the Fijians_, i. 217 _sqq._]\n\n[Footnote 706: Ch. Wilkes, _Narrative of the United States Exploring\nExpedition_, New Edition (New York, 1851), iii. 49, 86, 351, 352; Th.\nWilliams, _Fiji and the Fijians_, i. 221-223; B. Seeman, _Viti_, pp.\n392-394.]\n\n[Footnote 707: Th. Williams, _op. cit._ i. 191 _sq._]\n\n[Footnote 708: Th. Williams, _Fiji and the Fijians_, i. 223, 231.]\n\n[Footnote 709: Ch. Wilkes, _op. cit._ iii. 87; Th. Williams, _op. cit._\ni. 226, 227; Basil Thomson, _The Fijians_, pp. 157 _sqq._]\n\n[Footnote 710: Ch. Wilkes, _op. cit._ iii. 87 _sq._; Th. Williams, _op.\ncit._ i. 224 _sq._; Capt. J. E. Erskine, _op. cit._ p. 250; Lorimer\nFison, _Tales from Old Fiji_ (London, 1904), pp. 166 _sq._ As for the\ntreatment of castaways, see J. E. Erskine, _op. cit._ p. 249; Th.\nWilliams, _op. cit._ i. 210. The latter writer mentions a recent case in\nwhich fourteen or sixteen shipwrecked persons were cooked and eaten.]\n\n[Footnote 711: The Rev. Lorimer Fison, in a letter to me dated August\n26th, 1898. I have already quoted the passage in _The Magic Art and the\nEvolution of Kings_, i. 378.]\n\n[Footnote 712: Th. Williams, _Fiji and the Fijians_, i. 225 _sq._]\n\n[Footnote 713: Th. Williams, _op. cit._ i. 231.]\n\n[Footnote 714: Ch. Wilkes, _op. cit._ iii. 97; Th. Williams, _op. cit._\ni. 53.]\n\n[Footnote 715: John Jackson's Narrative, in Capt. J. E. Erskine's\n_Journal of a Cruise among the Islands of the Western Pacific_ (London,\n1853), pp. 464 _sq._, 472 _sq._ The genital members of the men over whom\nthe canoe was dragged were cut off and hung on a sacred tree\n(_akau-tambu_), \"which was already artificially prolific in fruit, both\nof the masculine and feminine gender.\" The tree which bore such\nremarkable fruit was commonly an ironweed tree standing in a conspicuous\nsituation. As to these sacrifices compare Ch. Wilkes, _op. cit._ iii.\n97; Lorimer Fison, _Tales from Old Fiji_, pp. xvi. _sq._]\n\n[Footnote 716: Th. Williams, _op. cit._ i, 112.]\n\n[Footnote 717: Th. Williams, _op. cit._ i. 55.]\n\n[Footnote 718: Lorimer Fison, _Tales from Old Fiji_, pp. xx., xxi.\n_sq._; Th. Williams, _op. cit._ i. 247; B. Seeman, _Viti_ (Cambridge,\n1862), p. 401.]\n\n[Footnote 719: Th. Williams, _op. cit._ i. 55 _sq._ The writer witnessed\nwhat he calls the ceremony of consecration in the case of a young man of\nthe highest rank in Somosomo and he has described what he saw. In this\ncase a special hut was not built for the manslayer, and he was allowed\nto pass the nights in the temple of the war god.]\n\n[Footnote 720: See above, pp. 205 _sq._, 229 _sq._, 258, 279 _sq._, 323,\n396, 415.]\n\n[Footnote 721: Th. Williams, _op. cit._ i. 55.]\n\n[Footnote 722: Ch. Wilkes, _op. cit._ iii. 98, 99 _sq._ Compare Lorimer\nFison, _Tales from Old Fiji_, p. 163: \"A person who has defiled himself\nby touching a corpse is called _yambo_, and is not allowed to touch food\nwith his hands for several days.\" The custom as to a surviving widow is\nmentioned by Th. Williams, _op. cit._ i. 198.]\n\n[Footnote 723: Lorimer Fison, _Tales from Old Fiji_, p. 167.]\n\n[Footnote 724: Ch. Wilkes, _op. cit._ iii. 101; Th. Williams, _op. cit._\ni. 197 _sq._; Lorimer Fison, _Tales from Old Fiji_, p. 168; Basil\nThomson, _The Fijian_, p. 375.]\n\n[Footnote 725: Th. Williams, _op. cit._ i. 197, 198.]\n\n[Footnote 726: Ch. Wilkes, _op. cit._ iii. 99.]\n\n[Footnote 727: Th. Williams, _op. cit._ i. 198 _sq._]\n\n[Footnote 728: Ch. Wilkes, _l.c._]\n\n[Footnote 729: Th. Williams, _Fiji and the Fijians_, i. 197.]\n\n[Footnote 730: K. Weinhold, _Altnordisches Leben_ (Berlin, 1856), p.\n476.]\n\n[Footnote 731: _The Zend-Avesta_, Part i. _The Vendidad,_ translated by\nJames Darmesteter (Oxford, 1880), p. 95 (Fargard, viii. 2. 10) (_Sacred\nBooks of the East_, vol. iv.).]\n\n[Footnote 732: W. R. S. Ralston, _The Songs of the Russian People_,\nSecond Edition (London, 1872), p. 318.]\n\n[Footnote 733: Sonnerat, _Voyage aux Indes Orientales et a la Chine_\n(Paris, 1782), i. 86.]\n\n[Footnote 734: J. A. Dubois, _Moeurs, Institutions et Ceremonies des\nPeuples de l'Inde_ (Paris, 1825), ii. 225; E. Thurston, _Ethnographic\nNotes in Southern India_ (Madras, 1906), pp. 226 _sq._]\n\n[Footnote 735: J. Grimm, _Deutsche Rechtsalterthuemer_ 3rd ed.\n(Goettingen, 1881), pp. 726 _sqq._]\n\n[Footnote 736: Rev. J. G. Campbell, _Superstitions of the Highlands and\nIslands of Scotland_ (Glasgow, 1900), p. 242.]\n\n[Footnote 737: _The Sacred Books of China_, translated by James Legge,\nPart iii. _The Li-Ki_, i.-x. (Oxford, 1885) pp. 144 _sq._ (Bk. ii. Sect.\ni. Pt. II. 33) (_Sacred Books of the East_, vol. xxvii.); J. F. Lafitau,\n_Moeurs des Sauvages Ameriquains_ (Paris, 1724), ii. 401 _sq._, citing\nLe Comte, _Nouv. Memoires de la Chine_, vol. ii. p. 187.]\n\n[Footnote 738: _Relations des Jesuites_, 1633, p. 11; _id._, 1634, p. 23\n(Canadian reprint, Quebec, 1858); J. G. Kohl, _Kitschi-Gami_ (Bremen,\n1859), p. 149 note.]\n\n[Footnote 739: E. W. Nelson, \"The Eskimo about Bering Strait,\"\n_Eighteenth Annual Report of the Bureau of American Ethnology_, Part i.\n(Washington, 1899), p. 311.]\n\n[Footnote 740: David Crantz, _History of Greenland_ (London, 1767), i.\n237. Compare Hans Egede, _Description of Greenland_, Second Edition\n(London, 1818), pp. 152 _sq._; Captain G. F. Lyon, _Private Journal_\n(London, 1824), p. 370; C. F. Hall, _Narrative of the Second Arctic\nExpedition_ (Washington, 1879), p. 265 (Esquimaux).]\n\n[Footnote 741: P. Kolben, _The Present State of the Cape of Good Hope_\n(London, 1731-1738), i. 316; C. P. Thunberg, \"An Account of the Cape of\nGood Hope,\" in Pinkerton's _Voyages and Travels_, xvi. (London, 1814) p.\n142; _Bulletin de la Societe de Geographie_ (Paris), ii, Serie, ii.\n(1834) p. 196 (Bechuanas); _id._, vii. Serie, vii. (1886) p. 587\n(Fernando Po); T. Arbousset et F. Daumas, _Relation d'un Voyage\nd'Exploration au Nord-est de la Colonie du Cap de Bonne-Esperance_\n(Paris, 1842), pp. 502 _sq._; C. J. Andersson, _Lake Ngami_, Second\nEdition (London, 1856), p. 466; G. Fritsch, _Die Eingeborenen\nSued-Afrika's_ (Breslau, 1872), pp. 210, 335; R. Moffat, _Missionary\nLabours and Scenes in Southern Africa_ (London, 1842), p. 307; E.\nCasalis, _The Basutos_ (London, 1861), p. 202; Ladislaus Magyar, _Reisen\nin Sued-Afrika_ (Buda-Pesth and Leipsic, 1859), p. 350; Rev. J.\nMacdonald, _Light in Africa_, Second Edition (London, 1890), p. 166; E.\nBeguin, _Les Ma-Rotse_ (Lausanne and Fontaines, 1903), p. 115; Henri A.\nJunod, _Les Ba-Ronga_ (Neuchatel, 1898), p. 48; _id._, _The Life of a\nSouth African Tribe_, i. (Neuchatel, 1912) p. 138; Dudley Kidd, _The\nEssential Kafir_ (London, 1904), p. 247; A. F. Mockler-Ferryman,\n_British Nigeria_ (London, 1902), p. 234; Ramseyer and Kuehne, _Four\nYears in Ashantee_ (London, 1875), p. 50; A. B. Ellis, _The Land of\nFetish_ (London, 1883), p. 13; _id._, _The Tshi-speaking Peoples of the\nGold Coast_ (London, 1887), p. 239; E. Perregaud, _Chez les Achanti_\n(Neuchatel, 1906), p. 127; J. Spieth, _Die Ewe-Staemme_ (Berlin, 1906),\np. 756; H. R. Palmer, \"Notes on the Kororofawa and Jukon,\" _Journal of\nthe African Society_, No. 44 (July, 1912), p. 414. The custom is also\nobserved by some tribes of Central Africa. See Miss A. Werner, _The\nNatives of British Central Africa_ (London, 1906), p. 161; B. Gutmann,\n\"Trauer und Begraebnisssitten der Wadschagga,\" _Globus_, lxxxix. (1906)\np. 200; Rev. N. Stam, \"Religious Conceptions of the Kavirondo,\"\n_Anthropos_, v. (1910) p. 361.]\n\n[Footnote 742: C. Snouck Hurgronje, _Het Gajoland en zijne Bewoners_\n(Batavia, 1903), p. 313.]\n\n[Footnote 743: Aurel Krause, _Die Tlinkit-Indianer_ (Jena, 1885), p.\n225; Franz Boas, in _Sixth Report of the Committee on the North-western\nTribes of Canada_, p. 23 (separate reprint from the _Report of the\nBritish Association for the Advancement of Science_, Leeds Meeting,\n1890); J. R. Swanton, _Contributions to the Ethnology of the Haida_\n(Leyden and New York, 1905), pp. 52, 54 (_The Jesup North Pacific\nExpedition, Memoir of the American Museum of Natural History_).]\n\n[Footnote 744: J. A. H. Louis, _The Gates of Thibet_ (Calcutta, 1894),\np. 114.]\n\n[Footnote 745: H. von Wlislocki, _Volksglaube und religioeser Brauch der\nZigeuner_ (Muenster i. W., 1891), p. 99.]\n\n[Footnote 746: W. Jochelson, _The Koryak_ (New York and Leyden, 1908),\npp. 110 _sq._ (_The Jesup North Pacific Expedition, Memoir of the\nAmerican Museum of Natural History_).]\n\n[Footnote 747: W. H. Dall, _Alaska and its Resources_ (London, 1870), p.\n382.]\n\n[Footnote 748: Lucien M. Turner, \"Ethnology of the Ungava District,\nHudson Bay Territory,\" _Eleventh Annual Report of the Bureau of\nEthnology_ (Washington, 1894), p. 191.]\n\n[Footnote 749: Mgr. Bruguiere, in _Annales de l'Association de la\nPropagation de la Foi_, v. (Lyons and Paris, 1831) p. 180. Compare Mgr.\nPallegoix, _Description du royaume Thai ou Siam_ (Paris, 1854), i. 245;\nAdolf Bastian, _Die Volker des oestlichen Asien_, iii. (Jena, 1867) p.\n258; E. Young, _The Kingdom of the Yellow Robe_ (Westminster, 1898), p.\n246.]\n\n[Footnote 750: S. Mateer, _Native Life in Travancore_ (London, 1883), p.\n137. Compare A. Butterworth, \"Royal Funerals in Travancore,\" _Indian\nAntiquary_, xxxi. (1902) p. 251.]\n\n[Footnote 751: Ch. Hose and W. McDougall, _The Pagan Tribes of Borneo_\n(London, 1912), ii. 35.]\n\n[Footnote 752: S. K. Kusnezow, \"Ueber den Glauben vom Jenseits und den\nTodtencultus der Tscheremissen,\" _Internationales Archiv fuer\nEthnographie_, ix. (1896) p. 157.]\n\n[Footnote 753: P. S. Pallas, _Reise durch verschiedene Provinzen des\nRussischen Reichs_ (St. Petersburg, 1771-1776), iii. 75; Middendorff,\n_Reise in den aeussersten Norden und Osten Sibiriens_, iv. 1464.]\n\n[Footnote 754: _Exploraciones y Noticias hidrograficas de los Rios del\nNorte de Bolivia_, publicados por Manuel V. Ballivian, Segunda Parte,\n_Diario del Viage al Madre de Dios hecho por el P. Fr. Nicolas Armentia,\nen los anos de 1884 y 1885_ (La Paz, 1890), p. 20: _\"Cuando muere\nalguno, apenas sacan el cadaver de la casa, cambian la puerta al lado\nopuesto, para que no de con ella el difunto.\"_]\n\n[Footnote 755: Karl Bartsch, _Sagen, Maerchen und Gebraeuche aus\nMeklenburg_ (Vienna, 1879-1880), ii. 100, Sec. 358.]\n\n[Footnote 756: For some evidence on this subject, see R. Lasch, \"Die\nBehandlung der Leiche des Selbstmoerders,\" _Globus_, lxxxvi. (1899) pp.\n63-66; Rev. J. Roscoe, _The Baganda_ (London, 1911), pp. 20 _sq._; A.\nKarasek, \"Beitraege zur Kenntnis der Waschamba,\" _Baessler-Archiv_, i.\n(1911) pp. 190 _sq._]\n\n[Footnote 757: Rev. N. Stam, \"The Religious Conceptions of the\nKavirondo,\" _Anthropos_, v. (1910) p. 361.]\n\n[Footnote 758: Alfred de Nore, _Coutumes, Mythes, et Traditions des\nProvinces de France_ (Paris and Lyons, 1846), p. 198.]\n\n[Footnote 759: Felix Chapiseau, _Le Folk-lore de la Beauce et du Perche_\n(Paris, 1902), ii. 164.]\n\n[Footnote 760: For some evidence on this subject see _Psyche's Task_,\npp. 64 _sq._]\n\n[Footnote 761: Carl Bock, _Temples and Elephants_ (London, 1884), p.\n262.]\n\n[Footnote 762: Ch. Gilhodes, \"Naissance et Enfance chez les Katchins\n(Birmanie),\" _Anthropos_, vi. (1911) pp. 872 _sq._]\n\n[Footnote 763: A. W. Nieuwenhuis, _Quer durch Borneo_ (Leyden,\n1901-1907), i. 91.]\n\n[Footnote 764: Ch. Hose and W. McDougall, _The Pagan Tribes of Borneo_\n(London, 1912), ii. 155.]\n\n[Footnote 765: Franz Boas, in _Sixth Report of the Committee on the\nNorth-western Tribes of Canada_, p. 23 (separate reprint from the\n_Report of the British Association for the Advancement of Science_,\nLeeds Meeting, 1890).]\n\n[Footnote 766: Prevost, quoted by John Crawford, _History of the Indian\nArchipelago_ (Edinburgh, 1820), ii. 245. Compare Adolf Bastian, _Die\nVoelker des oestlichen Asien_, v. (Jena, 1869) p. 83.]\n\n[Footnote 767: Mrs. Bishop (Isabella L. Bird), _Korea and her\nNeighbours_ (London, 1898), i. 239 _sq._]\n\n[Footnote 768: Arnold van Gennep, _Tabou et Totemisme a Madagascar_\n(Paris, 1904), p. 65, quoting Dr. Catat.]\n\n[Footnote 769: B. F. Matthes, _Bijdragen tot de Ethnologie van\nZuid-Celebes_ (The Hague, 1875), p. 139; _id._, \"Over de ada's of\ngewoonten der Makassaren en Boegineezen,\" _Verslagen en Mededeelingen\nder Koninklijke Akademie van Wetenschappen_, Afdeeling Letterkunde,\nDerde Reeks, ii. (Amsterdam, 1885) p. 142.]\n\n[Footnote 770: W. M. Donselaar \"Aanteekeningen over het eiland\nSaleijer,\" _Mededeelingen van wege het Nederlandsche\nZendelinggenootschap_, i. (1857) p. 291.]\n\n[Footnote 771: See above, p. 426.]\n\n[Footnote 772: Th. Williams, _Fiji and the Fijians_, Second Edition\n(London, 1860), i. 167.]\n\n[Footnote 773: Ch. Wilkes, _Narrative of the United States Exploring\nExpedition_, New Edition (New York, 1851), iii. 83; Basil Thomson, _The\nFijians_, p. 117.]\n\n[Footnote 774: Basil Thomson, _op. cit._ p. 121.]\n\n[Footnote 775: Lorimer Fison, _Tales from Old Fiji_, p. 163.]\n\n[Footnote 776: Th. Williams, _Fiji and the Fijians_, i. 239.]\n\n[Footnote 777: Th. Williams, _op. cit._ i. 243 _sq._ Compare Berthold\nSeeman, _Viti, an Account of a Government Mission to the Vitian of\nFijian Islands in the years 1860-1861_ (Cambridge, 1862), p. 399;\nLorimer Fison, _Tales from Old Fiji_, p. 163; Basil Thomson, _The\nFijians_, pp. 120 _sq._, 121 _sq._]\n\n[Footnote 778: Th. Williams, _op. cit._ i, 244 _sq._]\n\n[Footnote 779: Ch. Wilkes, _op. cit._ iii. 83.]\n\n[Footnote 780: Th. Williams, _op. cit._ i. 245 _sq._]\n\n[Footnote 781: Th. Williams, _op. cit._ i. 246 _sq._]\n\n[Footnote 782: Th. Williams, _op. cit._ i. 247.]\n\n[Footnote 783: Ch. Wilkes, _op. cit._ iii. 85 _sq._]\n\n[Footnote 784: Th. Williams, _op. cit._ i. 248.]\n\n\n\n\nNOTE\n\nMYTH OF THE CONTINUANCE OF DEATH[785]\n\n\nThe following story is told by the Balolo of the Upper Congo to explain\nthe continuance, if not the origin, of death in the world. One day,\nwhile a man was working in the forest, a little man with two bundles,\none large and one small, went up to him and said, \"Which of these\nbundles will you have? The large one contains knives, looking-glasses,\ncloth and so forth; and the small one contains immortal life.\" \"I cannot\nchoose by myself,\" answered the man; \"I must go and ask the other people\nin the town.\" While he was gone to ask the others, some women arrived\nand the choice was left to them. They tried the edges of the knives,\ndecked themselves in the cloth, admired themselves in the\nlooking-glasses, and, without more ado, chose the big bundle. The little\nman, picking up the small bundle, vanished. So when the man came back\nfrom the town, the little man and his bundles were gone. The women\nexhibited and shared the things, but death continued on the earth. Hence\nthe people often say, \"Oh, if those women had only chosen the small\nbundle, we should not be dying like this!\"[786]\n\n[Footnote 785: See above, p. 77.]\n\n[Footnote 786: Rev. John H. Weeks, \"Stories and other Notes from the\nUpper Congo,\" _Folk-lore_, xii. (1901) p. 461; _id._, _Among Congo\nCannibals_ (London, 1913), p. 218. The country of the Balolo lies five\nmiles south of the Equator, on Longitude 18 deg. East.]\n\n\n\n\nINDEX\n\n\nAbinal, Father, 49\n\nAbipones, their belief in sorcery as a cause of death, 35\n\nAbnormal mental states explained by inspiration, 15\n\nAborigines, magical powers attributed by immigrants to, 193\n\nAbstinence from certain food in mourning, 198, 208, 209, 230, 314, 360,\n452\n\nAbundance of food and water favourable to social progress, 90 _sq._\n\nAction as a clue to belief, 143\n\nActors personating ghosts and spirits, 176, 179 _sq._, 180 _sqq._, 185\n_sqq._\n\nAdiri, the land of the dead, 211, 212, 213, 214\n\nAdmiralty Islands, 393, 400, 401\n\n---- Islanders, their myths of the origin of death, 71, 76 _sq._\n\nAdvance of culture among the aborigines of South-Eastern Australia, 141\n_sq._, 148 _sq._\n\nAfrica, aborigines of, their ideas as to the cause of death, 49 _sqq._;\n  use of poison ordeal in, 50 _sqq._\n\n----, British Central, 162\n\n----, British East, 61, 66, 254\n\nAgriculture, rise of, favourable to astronomy, 140 _sq._;\n  Fijian, 408\n\nAkamba, their story of the origin of death, 61 _sq._\n\nAkikuyu, resurrection and circumcision among the, 254\n\n_Alcheringa_ or dream times, 96, 103, 114\n\n---- ancestors, their marvellous powers, 103\n\n---- home of the dead, 167\n\nAlfoors of Celebes, 166\n\nAlligators, ghosts in, 380\n\n_Alols_, bachelors' houses, 221, 222\n\nAltars, stones used as, 379\n\nAmputation of fingers in mourning, 199, 426 _sq._, 451\n\nAmulets consisting of relics of the dead, 332, 370\n\nAncestor, totemic, developing into a god, 113\n\nAncestor-worship possibly evolved from totemism, 114 _sq._\n\nAncestors, reincarnation of, 92 _sqq._;\n  marvellous powers ascribed to remote, 103, 114 _sq._;\n  totemic, traditions concerning, 115 _sqq._;\n  dramatic ceremonies to commemorate the doings of, 118 _sqq._;\n  possible evolution of worship of, in Central Australia, 125 _sq._;\n  worshipped, 221, 297 _sq._, 328 _sqq._, 338, 340;\n  ghosts of, appealed to for help, 258 _sq._;\n  offerings to, 298;\n  prayers to, 329 _sq._, 332 _sqq._\n  _See also_ Dead\n\nAncestral gods, foreskins of circumcised lads offered to, 427;\n  libations to, 430, 438\n\n---- images, 307 _sqq._, 315, 316 _sq._, 321, 322\n\n---- spirits help hunters and fishers, 226;\n  shrines for, 316, 317;\n  worshipped as gods, 369;\n  worshipped in the _Nanga_, 428 _sq._;\n  first-fruits offered to, 429;\n  cloth and weapons offered to, 430 _sq._;\n  novices presented to, at initiation, 432 _sq._, 434.\n\nAngola, the poison ordeal in, 51 _sq._\n\nAngoni, their burial customs, 162\n\nAnimals, souls of sorcerers in, 39;\n  spirits of, go to the spirit land, 210;\n  sacrifices to the souls of, 239;\n  transmigration of dead into, 242, 245;\n  ghosts in the form of, 282;\n  ghosts turn into, 287;\n  ghosts incarnate in, 379 _sq._\n\nAnimistic views of the Papuans, 264\n\nAnjea, a mythical being, 128\n\nAnnam, 67, 69\n\nAnointing manslayers, 448\n\nAnt-hills, ghosts turn into, 287\n\nAnt totem, dramatic ceremony concerned with, 120 _sq._\n\nAnts' nests, ghosts turn into, 351\n\nAnthropology, comparative and descriptive, 230 _sq._\n\nAntimerina of Madagascar, burial custom of the, 461\n\nAnuto, a creator, 296\n\nApparitions, 396;\n  fear of, 414\n\nAppearance of the dead in dreams, 229\n\nAraucanians of Chili, their disbelief in natural death, 35, 53 _sq._\n\nArawaks of Guiana, 36;\n  their myth of the origin of death, 70\n\nArm-bone, final burial ceremony performed with the, 167 _sq._;\n  lower, of dead preserved, 274\n\n---- -bones, special treatment of the, 199;\n  of dead preserved, 225, 249\n\nAroma district of British New Guinea, 201, 202\n\nArrow-heads made of bones of the dead, 352\n\nArt, primitive religious, 114;\n  Papuan, 220\n\n_Arugo_, soul of dead, 207\n\n_Arumburinga_, spiritual double, 164\n\nArunta, the, of Central Australia, 94;\n  ceremonies connected with totems, 119 _sqq._;\n  their magical ceremonies for the multiplication of the totems, 122\n  _sq._;\n  their customs as to the hair of the dead, 138;\n  their cuttings for the dead, 155 _sq._, 159;\n  burial customs of the, 164 _sq._, 166\n\nAryan burial custom, 453\n\n_Asa_, Secret Society, 233\n\nAshantee story of the origin of death, 63 _sq._\n\nAshes smeared on mourners, 184, 361\n\nAstrolabe Bay in German New Guinea, 218, 230, 235, 237\n\nAstronomy, rise of, favoured by agriculture, 140 _sq._\n\nAsylums, 243\n\n_Asyren_, dead man, 457\n\n_Ataro_, a powerful ghost, 377\n\nAtonement for sick chief, 427\n\nAukem, a mythical being, 181\n\nAurora, one of the New Hebrides, 360, 382\n\nAustralia, causes which retarded progress in, 89 _sq._;\n  germs of a worship of the dead in, 168 _sq._\n  _See also_ Central Australia, Western Australia\n\n----, the aborigines of, their ideas as to death from natural causes,\n  40 _sqq._;\n  their primitive character, 88, 91;\n  the belief in immortality among, 127 _sqq._;\n  thought to be reborn in white people, 130, 131 _sqq._;\n  their burial customs, 144 _sqq._;\n  their primitive condition, 217\n\n----, South, beliefs as to the dead in, 134 _sqq._\n\nAustralia, South-Eastern, beliefs as to the dead in, 133 _sq._, 139;\n  burial customs among the aborigines of, 145 _sqq._\n\n----, Western, burial customs in, 147, 150, 151\n\nAuthority of chiefs based on their claim to magical powers, 395\n\nAvenging a death, pretence of, 282, 328\n\n\nBachelor ghosts, hard fate of, 464\n\nBachelors' houses, 221\n\nBad and good, different fate of the, after death, 354\n\nBaganda, the, their ideas as to the causes of death, 56 _n._ 2;\n  their myth of the origin of death, 78 _sqq._\n  _See also_ Uganda\n\nBahaus, the, of Borneo, 459\n\nBahnars of Cochinchina, 74\n\nBakairi, the, of Brazil, 35\n\nBakerewe, the, of the Victoria Nyanza, 50\n\nBali, burial custom in, 460\n\nBalking ghosts, 455 _sqq._\n\nBalolo, of the Upper Congo, their myth of the continuance of death, 472\n\n_Balum_, ghost or spirit of dead, 244;\n  name for bull-roarer, 250;\n  name for a ghost or monster who swallows lads at initiation, 251, 255,\n  260, 261;\n  soul of a dead man, 257, 261\n\nBamler, G., 291, 297 _sq._\n\nBananas in myths of the origin of death, 60, 70, 72 _sq._\n\nBandages to prevent entrance of ghosts, 396\n\nBandaging eyes of corpse, 459\n\nBanks' Islands, 343, 353, 386;\n  myths of the origin of death in, 71, 83 _sq._\n\n---- Islanders, funeral customs of the, 355 _sqq._\n\nBantu family, 60\n\nBaronga, the, 61;\n  burial custom of the, 454\n\nBartle Bay, 206, 208\n\nBasutos, the, 61;\n  burial custom of the, 454\n\nBat in myth of origin of death, 75\n\nBathing in sea after funeral, 207 _sq._;\n  as purification after a death, 314, 319\n\nBattel, Andrew, 51 _sq._\n\nBechuanas, the, 61;\n  burial custom of the, 454\n\nBeetles in myth of the origin of death, 70\n\nBelep tribe of New Caledonia, 325\n\nBelief, acts as a clue to, 143\n\nBelief in immortality, origin of belief in, 25 _sqq._;\n  almost universal among races of mankind, 33;\n  among the aborigines of Central Australia, 87 _sqq._;\n  among the islanders of Torres Straits, 170 _sqq._;\n  among the natives of British New Guinea, 190 _sqq._;\n  among the natives of German New Guinea, 216 _sqq._;\n  among the natives of Dutch New Guinea, 303 _sqq._;\n  among the natives of Southern Melanesia, 324 _sqq._;\n  among the natives of Central Melanesia, 343 _sqq._;\n  its practical effect on the life of the Central Melanesians, 391\n  _sq._;\n  among the natives of Northern Melanesia, 393 _sqq._;\n  among the Fijians, 406 _sqq._;\n  strongly held by savages, 468;\n  destruction of life and property entailed by the, 468 _sq._;\n  the question of its truth, 469 _sqq._\n\nBelief in sorcery a cause of keeping down the population, 38, 40\n\nBerkeley, his theory of knowledge, 11 _sq._\n\nBerlin Harbour in German New Guinea, 218\n\nBernau, Rev. J. H., 38\n\nBeryl-stone in _Rose Mary_, 130\n\nBetindalo, the land of the dead, 350\n\nBhotias, the, of the Himalayas, 163\n\nBiak or Wiak, island, 303\n\nBilking a ghost, 416\n\nBird in divination as to cause of death, 45\n\nBirds, souls of sorcerers in, 39\n\nBirth, new, at initiation, pretence of, 254\n\nBirthplaces, the dead buried in their, 160\n\nBirth-stones and birth-sticks (_churinga_) of the Central Australians,\n96 _sqq._\n\nBismarck Archipelago, 70, 394, 402\n\nBlack, mourners painted, 178, 241, 293;\n  gravediggers painted, 451\n\n---- -snake people, 94\n\nBlackened, faces of mourners, 403\n\nBlood of mourners dropped on corpse or into grave, 158 _sq._, 183, 185;\n  and hair of mourners offered to the dead, 183;\n  of pigs smeared on skulls and bones of the dead, 200;\n  soul thought to reside in the, 307;\n  of sacrificial victim not allowed to fall on the ground, 365\n\n---- revenge, duty of, 274, 276 _sq._;\n  discharged by sham fight, 136 _sq._\n\nBogadyim, in German New Guinea, 230, 231\n\nBoigu, the island of the dead, 175, 184, 213\n\nBolafagina, the lord of the dead, 350\n\nBolotoo, the land of souls, 411\n\nBones of the dead, second burial of the, 166 _sq._;\n  kept in house, 203;\n  worn by survivors, 225;\n  disinterred and kept in house, 225, 294;\n  making rain by means of the, 341\n\n---- and skulls of dead smeared with\n  blood of pigs, 200\n\nBonitos, ghosts in, 380\n\n_Boollia_, magic, 41 _sq._\n\n\"Born of an oak or a rock,\" 128\n\nBougainville, island of, 393\n\nBoulia district of Queensland, 147, 155\n\nBow, divination by, 241\n\nBread-fruit trees, stones to make them bear fruit, 335 _sq._\n\nBreaking things offered to the dead, 276\n\nBreath, vital principle associated with the, 129 _sq._\n\nBrett, Rev. W. H., 35 _sqq._\n\nBrewin, an evil spirit, 45\n\nBrittany, burial custom in, 458\n\nBrothers-in-law in funeral rites, 177\n\nBrown, Rev. Dr. George, 48, 395\n\nBuandik, the, 138\n\nBuckley, the convict, 131\n\nBuginese, burial custom of the, 461\n\nBugotu, 350, 352;\n  in Ysabel, 372, 379\n\nBuilding king's house, men sacrificed at, 446\n\nBukaua, the, of German New Guinea, 242, 256 _sqq._\n\nBull-roarers, 243;\n  used in divination, 249;\n  described, 250;\n  used at initiation of young men among the Yabim, 250 _sqq._;\n  among the Kaya-Kaya, 255;\n  at initiation among the Bukaua, 260 _sq._;\n  associated with the spirits of the dead, 261;\n  at initiation among the Kai, 263, 291;\n  at initiation of young men among the Tami, 301, 302\n\nBulotu or Bulu, the land of the dead, 462, 463\n\nBundle, the fatal, 472;\n  story of, 77 _sq._\n\n_Bures_, Fijian temples, 439\n\nBurial different for old and young, married and unmarried, etc., 161\n  _sqq._;\n  and burning of the dead, 162 _sq._;\n  special modes of, intended to prevent or facilitate the return of the\n  spirit, 163 _sqq._;\n  second, custom of, 166 _sq._;\n  in trees, 203;\n  in island, 319;\n  in the sea, 347 _sq._\n\n---- customs of the Australian aborigines, 144 _sqq._;\n  in Tumleo, 223;\n  of the Kai, 274;\n  of the New Caledonians, 326 _sq._, 339 _sq._;\n  in New Ireland, 397 _sq._;\n  in the Duke of York Island, 403.\n  _See also_ Corpse, Grave\n\n---- -grounds, sacred, 378\n\nBuried alive, old people, 359 _sq._\n\nBurma, 75\n\nBurning and burial of the dead, 162 _sq._\n\n---- bodies of women who died in childbed, 459\n\nBurns inflicted on themselves by mourners, 154, 155, 157, 327, 451\n\nBurnt offerings to the dead, 294\n\n---- sacrifices, reasons for, 348 _sq._;\n  to ghosts, 366, 367 _sq._, 373\n\nBurying alive the sick and old, Fijian custom of, 420 _sqq._\n\n---- people in their birthplaces, 160\n\nBushmen, 65\n\n_Buwun_, deities, 296\n\n\nCaffres of South Africa, their beliefs as to the causes of death, 55\n_sq._\n\nCalabar, poison ordeal in, 52\n\nCalifornia, Indians of, 68\n\nCalling back a lost soul, 312\n\nCalm and wind produced by weather-doctors, 385 _sq._\n\nCambridge Anthropological Expedition to Torres Straits, 171, 191\n\nCanaanites, the heathen, 154\n\nCanadian Indians, burial custom of the, 454\n\nCanarium nuts, first-fruits of, offered to ghosts, 368 _sq._\n\nCannibal feasts in Fiji, 446\n\nCannibals fear the ghosts of their victims, 396\n\nCanoe, men sacrificed at launching a new, 446 _sq._\n\nCanoes, Papuan, 220\n\nCape Bedford in Queensland, 129, 130, 131\n\n---- King William in German New Guinea, 218, 238\n\nCarnac in Brittany, 438\n\nCatching soul in a scarf, 412 _sq._\n\nCause, Hume's analysis of, 18 _sq._\n\nCauses, the propensity to search for, 17 _sq._;\n  two classes of, 22\n\nCaves used as burial-places or charnel-houses, 330 _sqq._\n\nCelebes, Central, 72\n\nCentral Australia, aborigines of, their ideas as to natural death, 46\n_sq._;\n  their ideas as to resurrection, 68;\n  their belief in immortality, 87 _sqq._;\n  their belief in reincarnation of the dead, 92 _sqq._;\n  their attitude towards the dead, 124 _sqq._\n\nCereals unknown to Melanesians and Polynesians, 408\n\nCeremonial impurity of manslayer, 229 _sq._\n\nCeremonies performed in honour of the Wollunqua, a mythical water-snake,\n  108 _sqq._;\n  dramatic, to commemorate the doings of ancestors, 118 _sqq._;\n  funeral, of the Torres Straits Islanders, 176 _sqq._\n  _See also_ Dramatic Ceremonies, Dramatic Representations, Funeral\n  Ceremonies, Totems\n\nChameleon in myths of the origin of death, 60 _sqq._\n\nChams of Annam, 67\n\nCharms imparted by dead in dreams, 139\n\nCharnel-houses, 221 _sq._, 225, 328\n\nCheating the devil, 460\n\nChepara, the, 139\n\nCheremiss of Russia, burial custom of the, 457\n\nCherokee Indians, 77\n\nChief, spirit of dead, a worshipful ghost, 352\n\nChief's power in Central Melanesia based on a fear of ghosts, 391\n\nChiefs deified after death, 369\n\nChiefs' authority based on their claim to magical powers, 395\n\nChieftainship, rise of, 141\n\nChildbed, treatment of ghosts of women dying in, 358;\n  special fear of ghosts of women dying in, 458 _sqq._\n\nChildless women, burial of, 458\n\nChildren, Central Australian theory of the birth of, 93 _sq._;\n  belief of Queensland natives as to the birth of, 128\n\nChildren buried in trees, 161, 312 _sq._;\n  stillborn, burial of, 458\n\nChild-stones, 93 _sq._\n\nChingpaws of Burma, 75\n\n_Choi_, disembodied human spirits, 128\n\nChukchansi Indians, 163\n\n_Churinga_, sacred sticks or stones, 96 _sqq._\n\nCircumcision as initiatory rite of young men, 233;\n  among the Yabim, 250 _sqq._;\n  among the Akikuyu, 254;\n  among the Bukaua, 260 _sq._;\n  among the Kai, 290 _sq._;\n  among the Tami, 301 _sq._;\n  as a propitiatory sacrifice, 426 _sqq._\n\nClans, totemic, 104\n\nClay, widow's body smeared with, 223\n\nCleanliness due to fear of sorcery, 386 _sq._, 414\n\nCleft stick used in cure, 271\n\nClercq, F. S. A. de, 316\n\nCloth and weapons offered to ancestral spirits, 430 _sq._\n\nClubhouses for men, 221, 225, 226, 243, 256 _sq._, 355\n\nCochinchina, 74\n\nCoco-nut trees of dead cut down, 208, 209, 327;\n  stones to blight, 335\n\n---- -nuts tabooed, 297\n\nCodrington, Dr. R. H., 54 _sq._, 344, 345 _sq._, 353, 355, 359, 362\n_sq._, 368, 380 _sq._\n\nCollins, David, 133\n\nCommemorative and magical ceremonies combined, 122, 126\n\nCommercial habits of the North Melanesians, 394\n\nCommunal houses, 304\n\nCommunism, temporary revival of primitive, 436 _sq._\n\nComparative and descriptive anthropology, their relation, 230 _sq._\n\nComparative method applied to the study of religion, 5 _sq._;\n  in anthropology, 30\n\nCompartments in land of the dead, 244, 354, 404\n\nCompetition as a cause of progress, 89 _sq._\n\nConception in women, Central Australian theory of, 93 _sq._;\n  belief of Queensland natives concerning, 128\n\nConception of death, the savage, 31 _sqq._\n\nConcert of spirits, 340 _sq._\n\nConfession of sins, 201\n\nCongo, natives of the, their ideas as to natural death, 50;\n  worship of the moon on the, 68\n\nConsecration of manslayers in Fiji, 448 _sq._\n\nConsultation of ancestral images, 308 _sqq._\n\nContinence, required in training yam vines, 371\n\nContinuance of death, myth of the, 472\n\nContradictions and inconsistencies in reasoning not peculiar to savages,\n111 _sq._\n\nConvulsions as evidence of inspiration, 443, 444\n\nCo-operative system of piety, 333\n\nCoorgs, the, 163\n\nCord worn round neck by mourners, 241, 242, 249, 259, 361\n\nCorpse inspected to discover sorcerer, 37, 38, 53 _sq._;\n  dried on fire, 135, 184, 249, 313, 355;\n  tied to prevent ghost from walking, 144;\n  mauled and mutilated in order to disable the ghost, 153;\n  putrefying juices of, received by mourners on their bodies, 167, 205;\n  carried out feet foremost, 174;\n  decked with ornaments and flowers, 232;\n  painted white and red, 233;\n  crowned with red roses, 233, 234;\n  stript of ornaments before burial, 234, 241;\n  kept in house, 355;\n  property displayed beside the, 397;\n  persons who have handled a corpse forbidden to touch food with their\n  hands, 450 _sq._;\n  carried out of house by special opening, 452 _sqq._\n\nCorpses mummified, 313;\n  of women dying in childbed burnt, 459\n\nCostume of mourners, 184, 198, 241 _sq._;\n  of widow and widower, 204\n\nCostumes of actors in dramatic ceremonies concerned with totems, 119\n_sqq._\n\nCrabs in myth of the origin of death, 70\n\nCracking joints of fingers at incantation, 223\n\nCreator, the, and the origin of death, 73\n\nCrocodiles, transmigration of dead into, 245\n\nCromlechs, 438\n\nCrops, ghosts expected to make the crops thrive, 259, 284, 288 _sq._\n\nCross-questioning a ghost by means of fire, 278\n\nCultivation of the ground, spirits of ancestors supposed to help in the,\n259\n\nCulture, advance of, among the aborigines of South-Eastern Australia,\n  141 _sq._, 148 _sq._;\n  advanced, of the Fijians, 407\n\nCursing enemies, 370, 403, 404\n\nCutting down trees of the dead, 208, 209\n\nCuttings of the flesh in honour of the dead, 154 _sqq._, 183, 184 _sq._,\n196, 272, 327, 359\n\n\nDance of death, 185 _sqq._\n\nDances as funeral rites, 179 _sqq._, 200;\n  masked, of the Monumbo, 228;\n  masked, of a Secret Society, 233;\n  at deaths, 293 _sq._;\n  of masked men in imitation of spirits, 297;\n  at festivals, 316;\n  at festivals of the dead, 321;\n  at funeral feasts, 399\n\n---- and games at festivals, 226\n\nDark, ghosts dreaded in the, 197, 283, 306, 467;\n  female mourners remain in the, 360\n\nDaula, a ghost associated with the frigate-bird, 376\n\nDawson, James, 42, 142, 143\n\nDazing a ghost, 416\n\nDead, worship of the, 23 _sqq._, 31, 328 _sqq._, 338;\n  seen in dreams, 27;\n  belief in the reincarnation of the, 92 _sqq._, 107;\n  spirits of, associated with conspicuous features of the landscape,\n  115 _sqq._;\n  reincarnation of the, 124 _sq._, 127 _sqq._;\n  souls of the, supposed to go to the sky, 133 _sq._, 135, 138 _sq._,\n  141, 142;\n  souls of the, supposed to be in stars, 134, 140;\n  names of the, not mentioned, 135;\n  magical virtue attributed to the hair of the, 137 _sq._;\n  appear to the living in dreams, 139, 195, 213, 229;\n  attentions paid to the, in regard to food, fire, property, etc.,\n  144 _sqq._;\n  property of, deposited in grave, 145 _sqq._;\n  motive for destroying the property of the, 147 _sq._;\n  economic loss entailed by sacrifices to the, 149;\n  incipient worship of the, in Australia, 149, 150;\n  feared, 152 _sq._, 173 _sqq._, 196 _sq._, 201, 203, 244, 248;\n  cuttings of the flesh in honour of the, 154 _sqq._, 183, 184 _sq._,\n  196, 327, 359;\n  thought to be strengthened by blood, 159;\n  disposed of in different ways according to their age, manner of death,\n  etc., 161 _sqq._;\n  fear of the, 168;\n  germs of a worship of the, in Australia, 168 _sq._;\n  destruction of the property of the, 174;\n  land of the, 175 _sq._, 192, 193, 194 _sq._, 202, 203, 207, 209 _sq._,\n  211 _sqq._, 224, 228 _sq._, 244, 260, 286 _sq._, 292, 299, 305 _sq._,\n  307, 322, 326, 345, 350 _sq._, 353 _sq._, 404 _sqq._, 462 _sqq._;\n  personated by masked men, 176, 179 _sq._, 182 _sq._, 185 _sqq._;\n  food offered to the, 183, 211, 214, 232, 241, 332, 338, 348 _sq._,\n  364 _sq._, 367 _sq._, 372 _sq._, 396 _sq._, 429, 442, 467;\n  elements of a worship of the, in Torres Straits, 189;\n  laid on platforms, 199, 203, 205;\n  worshipped in British New Guinea, 201 _sq._;\n  prayers to the, 201 _sq._, 214, 259, 288, 307, 329 _sq._, 332 _sqq._,\n  340, 376 _sq._, 401, 403 _sq._, 427, 441;\n  names of, not mentioned, 210, 246;\n  monuments of the, 225;\n  offerings of hunters and fishers to the, 226;\n  oracles of the, 235;\n  buried in the house, 236, 347, 352, 397, 398, 399;\n  offerings to the, 239, 276, 292, 298;\n  transmigrate into animals, 242, 245;\n  spirits of the, give good crops, 247 _sq._;\n  elements of a worship of the dead among the Yabim, 255;\n  spirits of the, believed to be mischievous, 257;\n  ancestors supposed to help in the cultivation of the ground, 259;\n  first-fruits offered to the, 259;\n  buried under houses, 259;\n  envious of the living, 267, 381;\n  burnt offerings to the, 294;\n  predominance of the worship of the, 297 _sq._;\n  power of the, over the living, 298, 306 _sq._, 307;\n  sacrifices to the, 307, 338;\n  wooden images (_korwar_) of the, 307 _sqq._, 315, 316 _sq._, 321, 322;\n  buried in island, 319;\n  festival of the, 320 _sq._;\n  medicine-men, inspired by spirits of the, 322;\n  spirits of the, embodied in their skulls, 338;\n  spirits of the, identified with white men, 342;\n  buried in the sea, 347 _sq._, 397;\n  relics of the, preserved, 348;\n  bodies of the, preserved for a time in the house, 351;\n  represented by wooden stocks, 374, 386;\n  burned in New Ireland, 397;\n  carried out of house by special opening, 452 _sqq._\n  _See also_ Ghost\n\nDead kings of Uganda consulted as oracles, 151\n\nDeath, the problem of, 31 _sqq._;\n  the savage conception of, 31 _sqq._;\n  thought to be an effect of sorcery, 33 _sqq._;\n  by natural causes, recognised by some savages, 55 _sq._;\n  myths of the origin of, 59 _sqq._;\n  personified in tales, 79 _sqq._;\n  not regarded as a natural necessity, 84 _sqq._;\n  the second, of the dead, 195, 286, 299, 345, 350, 351, 354;\n  attributed to sorcery, 249;\n  violent, ascribed to sorcery, 268 _sq._;\n  myth of the continuance of, 472\n\nDeath and resurrection at initiation, ceremony of, 431, 434 _sq._;\n  pretence of, at initiation, 254 _sq._, 261, 302\n\nDeath-dances, 293 _sq._;\n  of the Torres Straits Islanders, 179 _sqq._\n\nDeaths from natural causes, disbelief of savages in, 33 _sqq._;\n  attributed to sorcery, 136, 203;\n  set down to sorcery or ghosts, 203, 268, 270\n\nDeceiving the ghost, 237, 273, 280 _sqq._, 328\n\nDeceiving the spirits, 298\n\nDeification of the dead, 24, 25;\n  of parents, 439\n\nDeity consumes soul of offering, 297\n\nDemon carries off soul of sick, 194\n\nDemons as causes of disease and death, 36 _sq._\n\nDemonstrations, extravagant, of grief at a death, dictated by fear of\nthe ghost, 271 _sqq._\n\nDene or Tinneh Indians, their ideas as to death, 39 _sq._\n\nDeparture of ghost thought to coincide with disappearance of flesh from\nbones, 165 _sq._\n\nDescent of the living into the nether world, 300, 355\n\nDescriptive and comparative anthropology, their relation, 230 _sq._\n\nDescriptive method in anthropology, 30\n\nDesertion of house after a death, 195, 196 _n._ 1, 210, 248, 275, 349,\n  400;\n  of village after a death, 275\n\nDeserts as impediments to progress, 89, 90\n\nDesign emblematic of totem, 168\n\nDestruction of house after a death, 210\n\n---- of life and property entailed by the belief in immortality, 468\n  _sq._\n\n---- of property of the dead, 174, 459;\n  motive for, 147 _sq._, 327\n\nDevelopment arrested or retarded in savagery, 88 _sqq._\n\nDieri, the, 138;\n  their burial customs, 144\n\nDifferentiation of function in prayer, 332 _sq._\n\nDisbelief of savages in death from natural causes, 34 _sqq._\n\nDisease supposed to be caused by sorcery, 35 _sqq._;\n  demons regarded as causes of, 36 _sq._;\n  recognised by some savages as due to natural causes, 55 _sq._;\n  special modes of disposing of bodies of persons who die of, 162, 163.\n  _See also_ Sickness\n\nDiseases ascribed to ghosts, 257\n\nDisinterment of the bones of the dead, 225, 294\n\nDissection of corpse to discover cause of death, 53 _sq._\n\nDivination to discover cause of death, 35, 36, 37 _sq._, 38, 39 _sq._,\n  44, 45 _sq._, 50 _sqq._, 53 _sq._, 136;\n  by liver, 54;\n  by dreams, 136, 383;\n  by the skulls of the dead, 179;\n  to discover sorcerer who caused death, 240 _sq._, 249 _sq._, 257, 402;\n  by bow, 241;\n  by hair to discover cause of death, 319;\n  by means of ghosts, 389 _sq._;\n  to discover ghost who has caused sickness, 382\n\nDivinity of kings, 16;\n  of Fijian kings, 407 _sq._;\n  Fijian notion of, 440 _sq._\n\nDog, in myth of the origin of death, 66;\n  the Heavenly, 460\n\nDogs sacrificed to the dead, 232, 234;\n  sacrificed in epidemics, 296\n\nDoreh Bay in Dutch New Guinea, 303, 306\n\nDragon supposed to swallow lads at initiation, 301.\n  _See also_ Monster\n\nDrama of death and resurrection at initiation, 431, 434 _sq._\n\n----, evolution of, 189\n\nDramatic ceremonies in Central Australia, magical intention of, 122\n_sq._, 126\n\n---- concerned with totems, 119 _sqq._\n\n---- to commemorate the doings of ancestors, 118 _sqq._\n\nDramatic representation of ghosts and spirits by masked men, 176, 179\n_sq._, 180 _sqq._, 185 _sqq._\n\nDrawings on ground in religious or magical ceremony, 112 _sq._\n\n---- on rocks, 318\n\nDread of witchcraft, 413 _sq._\n\nDreamer, professional, 383\n\nDreams as a source of the belief in immortality and of the worship of\n  the dead, 27 _sq._, 214;\n  divination by, 136;\n  appearance of the dead to the living in, 139, 195, 213, 229;\n  savage faith in the truth of, 139 _sq._;\n  consultation of the dead in, 179;\n  danger of, 194;\n  the dead communicate with the living in, 248\n\nDriving away the ghost, 178, 197, 248, 305, 306, 323, 356 _sqq._, 396,\n399, 415\n\nDrowning of ghosts, 224\n\nDuke of York Island, 393, 397, 403, 404\n\nDying, threats of the, 273\n\n\nEars of corpse stopped with hot coals, 152;\n  of mourners cut, 183, 272, 327\n\nEarth-burial and tree-burial, 161, 166 _sq._\n\nEarthquakes ascribed to ghosts, 286, 288;\n  caused by deities, 296\n\nEating totemic animals or plants, 120 _sq._\n\nEconomic loss entailed by sacrifices to the dead, 149;\n  entailed by the belief in immortality, 468 _sq._\n\nEel, ghost in, 379\n\nEels offered to the dead, 429\n\nEgypt, custom at embalming a corpse in ancient, 178\n\nElysium, the Fijian, 466 _sq._\n\nEmbryology of religion, 88\n\nEmu totem, dramatic ceremonies concerned with, 122, 123\n\nEncounter Bay tribe of South Australia, 42\n\nEpilepsy ascribed to anger of ghosts, 257, 283\n\n---- and inspiration, 15\n\nErdweg, Father Josef, 218, 219, 227\n\nErskine, Capt. J. E., 409\n\n_Ertnatulunga_, sacred store-house, 99\n\n_Erythrophloeum guiniense_, in poison ordeal, 50\n\nEsquimaux, burial custom of the, 454, 456\n\nEssence, immaterial, of sacrifice absorbed by ghosts and spirits, 285,\n287, 374\n\nEuhemerism, 24 _sq._\n\nEuhemerus, 24\n\nEuropean teaching, influence of, on native beliefs, 142 _sq._\n\nEvil spirits regarded as causes of death, 36 _sq._\n\nExcitement as mark of inspiration, 14\n\nExogamy with female descent, 416, 418\n\nExorcism as cure for sickness, 222 _sq._\n\nExperience defined, 12;\n  two sorts of, 13 _sq._\n\n---- and intuition, 11\n\nExternal world, question of the reality of, 13 _sq._;\n  an illusion, 21\n\nEye, soul resides in the, 267\n\nEyes of corpse bandaged, 459\n\n\nFaints ascribed to action of ghosts, 257, 283\n\nFaith, weakening of religious, 4\n\nFalling stars the souls of the dead, 229, 399\n\nFamily prayers of the New Caledonians, 332 _sq._, 340\n\n---- priests, 332, 340\n\nFamine, the stone of, 334 _sq._\n\nFasting in mourning for a king, 451 _sq._\n\nFather-in-law, mourning for a, 155\n\nFavourable natural conditions, their influence in stimulating social\nprogress, 141 _sq._, 148 _sq._\n\nFear of ghosts, 134, 135, 147, 151 _sqq._, 158, 173 _sqq._, 195, 196\n  _sq._, 201, 203, 229 _sq._, 232, 237, 276, 282 _sq._, 305, 321, 327,\n  347, 396, 414 _sq._, 449, 455, 467;\n  a moral restraint, 175;\n  the source of extravagant demonstrations of grief at death, 271\n  _sqq._;\n  taboo based on, 390 _sq._;\n  a bulwark of morality, 392;\n  funeral customs based on, 450 _sqq._;\n  of women dying in childbed, 458 _sqq._\n\nFear of the dead, 152 _sq._, 168, 173 _sqq._, 195, 196 _sq._, 201, 203,\n244, 248\n\n---- of witchcraft, 244\n\n---- the only principle of religious observances in Fiji, 443\n\nFeasts provided for ghosts, 247 _sq._\n  _See also_ Funeral Feasts\n\nFeather-money offered to ghosts, 374, 375\n\nFeet foremost, corpse carried out, 174\n\nFerry for ghosts, 224, 244 _sq._, 350, 412, 462\n\nFestival of the dead, 320 _sq._\n\nFig-trees, sacred, 199\n\nFighting or warrior ghosts, 370\n\nFiji and the Fijians, 406 _sqq._\n\n----, human sacrifices in, 446 _sq._\n\nFijian islands, scenery of, 409 _sq._\n\n---- myths of origin of death, 66 _sq._, 75 _sq._\n\nFijians, belief in immortality among the, 406 _sqq._;\n  their advanced culture, 407\n\nFingers amputated in mourning, 199, 451\n\n---- of living sacrificed in honour of the dead, 426 _sq._\n\nFinsch Harbour in German New Guinea, 218, 242, 262\n\nFire as a means of keeping off ghosts, 131\n\n---- -flies, ghosts as, 352\n\n---- kindled on grave, to warm ghost, 144 _sq._, 196 _sq._, 209, 211,\n223, 275, 359\n\n---- supplied to ghost, 246 _sq._;\n  used to keep off ghosts, 258, 283;\n  used in cross-questioning a ghost, 278\n\nFirstborn children, skull-topped images made of dead, 312\n\nFirst-fruits offered to the dead, 259;\n  of canarium nuts offered to ghosts, 368 _sq._;\n  offered to deified spirits of dead chiefs, 369;\n  offered to ghosts, 373 _sq._;\n  of yams offered to the ancestral spirits, 429\n\nFish offered by fishermen to the dead, 226;\n  prayers for, 329;\n  ghost in, 379\n\n---- totem, dramatic ceremony concerned with, 119 _sq._, 121\n\nFishermen pray to ghosts, 289\n\n----, stones to help, 337\n\nFison, Lorimer, 407, 412, 416, 418, 428 _n._ 1, 434, 435 _sqq._, 438\n_n._ 1, 445, 448\n\nFits ascribed to contact with ghosts, 283.\n  _See also_ Epilepsy\n\nFlorida, one of the Solomon Islands, 346, 347, 348, 349, 367, 368, 376,\n377, 379, 380\n\nFlutes, sacred, 221, 226, 233, 252\n\nFlying-foxes, souls of the dead in, 405\n\nFood placed on grave, 144;\n  offered to the dead, 183, 201, 208, 211, 214, 232, 241, 332, 338, 364\n  _sq._, 367 _sq._, 372 _sq._, 396 _sq._, 429, 442, 467;\n  abstinence from certain, in mourning, 198, 208, 209, 230, 314, 360,\n  452;\n  supply promoted by ghosts, 283;\n  offered to ancestral spirits, 316;\n  offered to the skulls of the dead, 339 _sq._, 352;\n  offered to ghosts, 348 _sq._;\n  of ghosts, the living not to partake of the, 355\n\n---- not to be touched with the hands by gravediggers, 327;\n  not to be touched with hands by persons who have handled a corpse,\n  450 _sq._\n\n---- and water, abundance of, favourable to social progress, 90 _sq._;\n  offered to the dead, 174\n\nFool and Death, 83\n\nFootprints, magic of, 45\n\nFoundation-sacrifice of men, 446\n\nFowlers pray to ghosts, 289\n\nFrenzy a symptom of inspiration, 443, 444 _sq._\n\nFrigate-bird, mark of the, 350;\n  ghost associated with the, 376\n\nFrigate-birds, ghosts in, 380\n\nFrog in stories of the origin of death, 61, 62 _sq._\n\nFruit-trees cut down for ghost, 246\n\n---- of the dead cut down, 399\n\nFuneral ceremonies intended to dismiss the ghost from the land of the\nliving, 174 _sq._\n\n---- ceremonies of the Torres Straits Islanders, 176 _sqq._\n\n---- customs of the Tami, 293 _sq._;\n  of the Central Melanesians, 347 _sqq._, 355 _sqq._;\n  based on fear of ghosts, 450 _sqq._\n\n---- feasts, 348, 351, 358 _sq._, 360, 396;\n  orations, 355 _sq._\n\nForces, impersonal, the world conceived as a complex of, 21\n\nForeskins sacrificed in honour of the dead, 426 _sq._;\n  of circumcised lads presented to ancestral gods, 427\n\n\nGaboon, the, 54\n\nGajos of Sumatra, burial custom of the, 455\n\nGall used in divination, 54\n\nGame offered by hunters to the dead, 226\n\nGanindo, a warrior ghost, 363 _sq._\n\nGardens, ghosts of, 371\n\nGazelle Peninsula, New Britain, 48, 69, 398, 405\n\nGeelvink Bay, in Dutch New Guinea, 303, 307\n\nGenital members of human victims hung on tree, 447 _n._ 1\n\nGerman burial custom, 453, 458\n\nGhost appeased by sham fight, 137;\n  hunted into the grave, 164 _sq._;\n  thought to linger near body till flesh is decayed, 165 _sq._;\n  elaborate funeral ceremonies designed to get rid of, 174 _sq._;\n  driven away, 178, 197, 248;\n  extracted from body of patient, 271;\n  calls for vengeance, 278;\n  cursed and ill-treated, 285;\n  who causes sunshine and rain, 375\n\n---- -posts, 375\n\n---- -seer, 204 _sq._, 214, 229\n\n---- -shooter, 387 _sq._\n\nGhostly ferry, 350, 412.\n  _See also_ Ferry\n\nGhosts, mischievous nature of, 28;\n  as causes of sickness, 54 _sqq._, 195, 197, 222, 300, 305, 322, 389;\n  feared, 134, 135, 147, 151 _sqq._, 158, 173 _sqq._, 195, 196 _sq._,\n  201, 203, 229 _sq._, 232, 237, 271 _sqq._, 276, 282 _sq._, 305, 321,\n  327, 347, 396, 414 _sq._, 449, 457, 467;\n  attentions paid to, in regard to food, fire, property, etc., 144\n  _sqq._;\n  feared only of recently departed, 151 _sq._;\n  of nearest relations most feared, 153;\n  represented dramatically by masked men, 176, 179 _sq._, 182 _sq._,\n  185 _sqq._;\n  should have their noses bored, 192, 194 _sq._;\n  return of the, 195, 198, 246, 300;\n  carry off the souls of the living, 197;\n  cause bad luck in hunting and fishing, 197;\n  identified with phosphorescent lights, 198, 258;\n  appear to seer, 204 _sq._;\n  of slain enemies especially dreaded, 205;\n  of the hanged specially feared, 212;\n  certain classes of ghosts specially feared, 212;\n  malignity of, 212, 381;\n  drowned, 224;\n  village of, 231 _sq._, 234;\n  give information, 240;\n  provided with fire, 246 _sq._;\n  feasts provided for, 247 _sq._;\n  thought to give good crops, 247 _sq._;\n  communicate with the living in dreams, 248;\n  diseases ascribed to action of, 257;\n  of the slain, special fear of, 258, 279, 306, 323;\n  of ancestors appealed to for help, 258 _sq._;\n  precautions taken against, 258;\n  expected to make the crops thrive, 259, 284, 288 _sq._;\n  natural death ascribed to action of, 268;\n  sickness ascribed to action of, 269 _sq._, 271, 279, 372, 375, 381\n  _sqq._;\n  deceived, 273, 280 _sqq._, 328;\n  thought to help hunters, 274, 284 _sq._;\n  in the form of animals, 282;\n  help the living by promoting supply of food, 283;\n  cause earthquakes, 286, 288;\n  as patrons of hunting and other departments, 287;\n  die the second death, 287;\n  turn into animals, 287;\n  turn into ant-hills, 287;\n  of warriors invoked by warriors, 288;\n  invoked by warriors, farmers, fowlers, fishermen, etc., 288 _sqq._;\n  of men may grow into gods, 289 _sq._;\n  of the dead in the form of serpents, 300;\n  driven away, 305, 306, 323, 356 _sqq._, 396, 399, 415;\n  cause all sorts of misfortunes, 306 _sq._;\n  call for vengeance, 310, 468;\n  sacrifices to, 328;\n  of power and ghosts of no account, distinction between, 345 _sq._;\n  of the recent dead most powerful, 346;\n  prayers to, 348;\n  of land and sea, 348;\n  food offered to, 348 _sq._;\n  live in islands, 350, 353;\n  live underground, 353 _sq._;\n  worshipful, 362 _sq._;\n  public and private, 367, 369 _sq._;\n  first-fruits offered to, 368 _sq._, 373 _sq._;\n  warlike, 370;\n  of gardens, 371;\n  human sacrifices to, 371 _sq._;\n  incarnate in sharks, 373;\n  sacrifices to, at planting, 375;\n  sanctuaries of, 377 _sq._;\n  incarnate in animals, 379 _sq._;\n  envious of the living, 381;\n  carry off souls, 383;\n  in stones, 383 _sq._;\n  inspiration by means of, 389 _sq._;\n  killed, 415 _sq._;\n  dazed, 416;\n  prevented from returning to the house, 455 _sq._;\n  unmarried, hard fate of, 464\n\nGhosts and spirits, distinction between, in Central Melanesia, 343, 363;\n  regulate the weather, 384 _sq._\n\n---- of women dying in childbed, special fear of, 458 _sqq._;\n  special treatment of, 358.\n  _See also_ Dead _and_ Spirits\n\nGiant, mythical, thought to appear annually with the south-east monsoon,\n255\n\nGifford, Lord, 2, 3\n\nGirdle made from hair of dead, 138\n\nGnanji, the, of Central Australia, 92\n\nGoat in story of the origin of death, 64\n\nGod, the question of his existence, 2;\n  defined, 9 _sq._;\n  knowledge of, how acquired, 11 _sqq._;\n  inferred as a cause, 22 _sq._;\n  and the origin of death, 61 _sqq._;\n  in form of serpent, 445, 462\n\nGods created by man in his own likeness, 19 _sq._;\n  of nature, 20;\n  human, 20, 23 _sqq._;\n  unknown among aborigines of Australia, 91;\n  often developed out of ghosts, 289 _sq._;\n  ancestors worshipped as, 340, 369;\n  ancestral, sacrifice of foreskins to, 427;\n  ancestral, libations to, 438;\n  two classes of, in Fiji, 440\n\n---- and spirits, no certain demarcation between, 441\n\nGoldie, Rev. Hugh, 52\n\nGood crops given by ghosts, 247 _sq._\n\n---- spirit, 143\n\n---- and bad, different fate of the, after death, 354\n\nGran Chaco, in Argentina, 165\n\nGrandfather, soul of, reborn in grandchild, 417;\n  his ghost dazed, 416\n\nGrandfather and grandchild, their relation under exogamy and female\nkinship, 416, 418\n\nGrandidier, A., 49\n\nGrass for graves, euphemism for human victims buried with the dead, 425\n_sq._\n\n---- -seed, magical ceremony for increasing, 102\n\nGrave, food placed on, 144, 145;\n  property of dead deposited in, 145 _sqq._;\n  hut erected on, 203;\n  of worshipful dead a sanctuary, 347;\n  stones heaped on, 360;\n  sacrifices to ghost on, 382\n\nGravediggers, purification of, 314;\n  secluded, 327;\n  secluded and painted black, 451\n\nGraves, huts built on, for use of ghosts, 150 _sq._;\n  under the houses, 274.\n  _See also_ Huts\n\nGreat Woman, the, 464\n\nGreek tragedy, W. Ridgeway on the origin of, 189\n\nGreeks, purificatory rites of ancient, 206\n\nGreenlanders, burial custom of the, 454\n\nGrey, Sir George, 41;\n  taken for an Australian aboriginal, 131 _sqq._\n\nGrief, extravagant demonstrations of grief in mourning, their motives,\n135 _sq._\n\n---- at a death, extravagant demonstrations of, dictated by fear of the\nghost, 271 _sqq._\n\n_Grihya-Sutras_, 163\n\nGround drawings in magical or religious ceremony, 112 _sq._\n\nGroves, sacred, the dead buried in, 326\n\nGuadalcanar, one of the Solomon Islands, 350, 372\n\nGuardian spirits, 227\n\nGuiana, Indians of, their ideas as to the cause of death, 35 _sqq._;\n  their offerings to the dead, 165\n\nGullet of pig sacrificed, 368\n\nGulu, king of heaven, 78\n\nGypsies, European, burial custom of, 455\n\n\nHaddon, Dr. A. C., 171, 172 _sq._, 175, 176, 180\n\nHagen, Dr. B., 230, 231\n\nHaida, burial custom of the, 455\n\nHair burnt as charm, 43;\n  cut in mourning, 135, 320, 451;\n  of widow unshorn, 184;\n  of dead child worn by mother, 315;\n  of gravediggers not cut, 327;\n  used as amulet, 332\n\n---- of the dead, magical virtue attributed to, 137 _sq._;\n  worn by relatives, 249;\n  divination by means of, 319\n\n---- of mourners offered to the dead, 183;\n  cut off, 183, 204\n\nHakea flower totem, dramatic ceremony concerned with, 119, 121\n\nHands, gravediggers and persons who have handled a corpse not to touch\nfood with their, 327, 450 _sq._\n\nHanged, ghosts of the, specially feared, 212\n\nHare in myth of the origin of death, 65\n\nHarumae, a warrior ghost, 365 _sq._\n\nHasselt, J. L. van, 305\n\nHauri, a worshipful ghost, 372\n\nHead-dress of gravediggers, 327\n\nHead-hunters, 352\n\nHead of corpse cut off in order to disable the ghost, 153;\n  removed and preserved, 178.\n  _See also_ Skulls\n\nHeads of mourners shaved, 208\n\n----, human, cut off in honour of the dead, 352\n\nHeaps of stones on grave, 360\n\nHeart supposed to be the seat of human spirit, 129\n\n---- of pig sacrificed, 368\n\nHeavenly Dog, 460\n\nHebrew prophets, 14\n\nHen in myth of the origin of death, 79\n\nHighlands of Scotland, burial custom in the, 453, 458\n\nHindoos, burial custom of the, 453, 458\n\nHistorical method of treating natural theology, 2 _sq._\n\nHistory of religion, its importance, 3\n\nHiyoyoa, the land of the dead, 207\n\nHole in the wall, dead carried out through a, 452 _sqq._\n\nHoly of Holies, 430, 431, 433, 437, 438\n\nHomer on blood-drinking ghosts, 159\n\nHomicides, precautions taken by, against the ghosts of their victims,\n  205 _sq._;\n  purification of, 206;\n  honours bestowed on, in Fiji, 447 _sq._\n  _See also_ Manslayers\n\nHomoeopathic magic, 288, 376\n\n---- or imitative magic, 335, 336, 338\n\nHonorary titles of homicides in Fiji, 447 _sq._\n\nHood Peninsula of British New Guinea, 47, 202, 203\n\nHos of Togoland, their myth of the origin of death, 81 _sqq._\n\nHose, Ch., and McDougall, W., quoted, 265 _n._, 417\n\nHottentots, their myth of the origin of death, 65;\n  burial custom of the, 454\n\nHouse deserted after a death, 195, 196 _n._ 1, 248, 275, 349, 400;\n  deserted or destroyed after a death, 210;\n  dead buried in the, 236, 347, 352, 397, 398, 399;\n  dead carried out of, by special opening, 452 _sqq._\n\nHouses, native, at Kalo, 202;\n  communal, 304\n\nHowitt, Dr. A. W., 44 _sq._, 139, 141\n\nHuman gods, 20, 23 _sqq._\n\n---- nature, two different views of, 469 _sqq._\n\n---- sacrifices to ghosts, 371 _sq._;\n  in Fiji, 446 _sq._\n\nHume's analysis of cause, 18 _sq._\n\nHunt, Mr., his experience in Fiji, 423 _sq._\n\nHunters supposed to be helped by ghosts, 274, 284 _sq._\n\nHuon Gulf, in German New Guinea, 242, 256\n\nHut built to represent mythical monster at initiation, 251, 290, 301\n_sq._\n\nHuts erected on graves for use of ghosts, 150 _sq._;\n  erected on graves, 203, 223, 248, 259, 275, 293, 294\n\nHypocritical lamentations at a death, 273\n\n---- indignation of accomplice at a murder, 280 _sqq._\n\n\nIdu, mountain of the dead, 193, 194 _sq._\n\nIguana in myth of origin of death, 70\n\nIlene, a worshipful ghost, 373\n\nIll-treatment of ghost who gives no help, 285\n\nIllusion of the external world, 21\n\nImages of the dead, wooden (_korwar_ or _karwar_), 307 _sqq._, 311, 315,\n  316 _sq._, 321, 322;\n  of sharks, 373;\n  in temples, 442\n\nImitation of totems by disguised actors, 119 _sqq._;\n  of totemic animals, 177\n\nImitative magic, 335, 336, 338, 376\n\nImmortality, belief in, among the aborigines of Central Australia, 87\n  _sqq._;\n  among the islanders of Torres Straits, 170 _sqq._;\n  among the natives of British New Guinea, 190 _sqq._;\n  among the natives of German New Guinea, 216 _sqq._;\n  among the natives of Dutch New Guinea, 303 _sqq._;\n  among the natives of Southern Melanesia, 324 _sqq._;\n  among the natives of Central Melanesia, 343 _sqq._;\n  among the natives of Northern Melanesia, 393 _sqq._;\n  among the Fijians, 406 _sqq._;\n  strongly held by savages, 468\n\nImmortality, limited sense of, 25;\n  origin of belief in, 25 _sqq._;\n  belief in human, almost universal among races of mankind, 33;\n  rivalry between men and animals for gift of, 74 _sq._;\n  question of the truth of the belief in, 469 _sqq._;\n  destruction of life and property entailed by the belief in, 468 _sq._\n\n---- in a bundle, 77 _sq._\n\nImpecunious ghosts, hard fate of, 406\n\nImpurity, ceremonial, of manslayer, 229 _sq._\n\nIm Thurn, Sir Everard F., 38 _sq._\n\nIncantations or spells, 385\n\nInconsistencies and contradictions in reasoning not peculiar to savages,\n111 _sq._\n\nInconsistency of savage thought, 143\n\nIndians of Guiana, their ideas about death, 35 _sqq._;\n  their beliefs as to the dead, 165\n\n---- of North-West America, burial custom of the, 455, 460\n\nIndifference to death, 419;\n  a consequence of belief in immortality, 422 _sq._\n\nIndo-European burial custom, 453\n\nInfanticide as cause of diminished population, 40\n\nInfluence of European teaching on native beliefs, 142 _sq._\n\nInitiation at puberty regarded as a process of death and resurrection,\n254, 261\n\n---- of young men, 233;\n  in Central Australia, 100;\n  among the Yabim, 250 _sqq._;\n  among the Bukaua, 260 _sq._;\n  among the Kai, 290 _sq._;\n  in Fiji, 429 _sqq._\n\nInsanity, influence of, in history, 15 _sq._\n\n---- and inspiration not clearly distinguished, 388\n\nInsect in divination as to cause of death, 44, 46\n\nInspiration, theory of, 14 _sq._;\n  of medium by ancestral spirits, 308 _sqq._;\n  by spirits of the dead, 322;\n  by ghosts in Central Melanesia, 388 _sq._;\n  attested by frenzy, 443, 444 _sq._\n\n---- and insanity not clearly distinguished, 388\n\nInsufflations, magical, to heal the sick, 329\n\n_Intichiuma_, magical ceremonies for the multiplication of totems, 122\n_sq._\n\nIntuition and experience, 11\n\nInvocation of ghosts, 288 _sq._;\n  of the dead, 329 _sq._, 332 _sqq._, 377, 378, 401, 441\n\nIsland, dead buried in, 319\n\n---- of the dead, fabulous, 175\n\nIslands, ghosts live in, 350, 353\n\nIsle of Pines, 325, 330, 337\n\nIsraelites forbidden to cut themselves for the dead, 154\n\nIvory Coast, 52\n\n\nJackson, John, quoted, 419 _sqq._, 447\n\nJappen or Jobi, island, 303\n\nJawbone of husband worn by widow, 204;\n  lower, of corpse preserved, 234 _sq._, 236, 274;\n  of dead king of Uganda preserved and consulted oracularly, 235\n\nJawbones of the dead preserved, 351 _sq._;\n  of dead worn by relatives, 404\n\nJourney of ghosts to the land of the dead, 286 _sq._, 361 _sq._, 462\n_sqq._\n\nJuices of putrefaction received by mourners on their bodies, 167, 205,\n403\n\n---- of putrefying corpse drunk by widow, 313;\n  drunk by women, 355\n\n\nKachins of Burma, burial custom of the, 459\n\nKafirs, their beliefs as to the causes of death, 56\n\nKagoro, the, of Northern Nigeria, 28 _n._ 1, 49\n\nKai, the, of German New Guinea, 71, 262 _sqq._;\n  theory of the soul, 267\n\nKaikuzi, brother of Death, 80\n\nKaitish, the, 68, 158, 166\n\nKalo, in British New Guinea, 202 _sq._\n\n_Kalou_, Fijian word for \"god,\" 440\n\n_Kalou vu_, \"root gods,\" 440\n\n_Kalou yalo_, \"soul gods,\" 440\n\n_Kami_, the souls of the dead, 297 _sq._\n\nKamilaroi tribe of New South Wales, 46, 155\n\n_Kanaima_ (_kenaima_), 36, 38\n\n_Kani_, name applied to ghosts, to bull-roarers, and to the monster who\nis thought to swallow lads at circumcision, 301\n\nKaniet islands, 401\n\n_Kava_ offered to ancestral spirits, 440\n\nKavirondo, burial custom of the, 458\n\nKaya-Kaya or Tugeri, the, of Dutch New Guinea, 255\n\nKayans, the, of Borneo, 417;\n  burial custom of, 456 _sq._, 459\n\nKemp Welch River, 202\n\n_Keramo_, a fighting ghost, 370\n\nKeysser, Ch., 262, 263 _sq._, 267, 269 _n._ 3\n\nKibu, the land of the dead, 175\n\nKibuka, war-god of Uganda, 366\n\nKidd, Dudley, 55\n\nKidney-fat, extraction of, 43\n\nKiller of Souls, the, 465 _sq._\n\nKilling a ghost, 415 _sq._\n\nKing, mourning for a, 451 _sq._\n\nKing's corpse not carried out through the door, 452, 461\n\nKings, divinity of, 16;\n  sanctity of Fijian, 407 _sq._\n\nKintu and the origin of death, 78 _sqq._\n\nKiwai, beliefs and customs concerning the dead in island of, 211 _sqq._\n\nKoita or Koitapu, of British New Guinea, 193\n\nKolosh Indians, 163\n\nKomars, the, 163\n\n_Koroi_, honorary title of homicides in Fiji, 447 _sq._\n\n_Korwar_, or _karwar_, wooden images of the dead, 307 _sqq._, 315, 316\n_sq._, 321, 322\n\nKoryak, burial custom of the, 455\n\nKosi and the origin of death, 76 _sq._\n\nKnowledge, natural, how acquired, 11\n\n---- of God, how acquired, 11 _sqq._;\n  of ghosts essential to medical practitioners in Melanesia, 384\n\nKulin, the, 138\n\nKurnai tribe of Victoria, 44, 138\n\nKweariburra tribe, 153\n\n_Kwod_, sacred or ceremonial ground, 179\n\n\nLambert, Father, 325, 327, 328, 332, 339\n\nLamboam, the land of the dead, 260, 292, 299\n\nLamentations, hypocritical, at a death, 271 _sqq._, 280 _sqq._\n\nLand burial and sea burial, 347 _sq._\n\n---- cleared for cultivation, 238, 242 _sq._, 256, 262 _sq._, 304\n\n---- ghosts and sea ghosts, 348\n\n---- of the dead, 175 _sq._, 192, 193, 194 _sq._, 202, 203, 207, 209\n  _sq._, 211 _sqq._, 224, 228 _sq._, 244, 260, 286 _sq._, 292, 299, 305\n  _sq._, 307, 322, 326, 345, 350 _sq._, 353 _sq._, 404 _sqq._, 462\n  _sqq._;\n  journeys of the living to the, 207, 355;\n  way to the, 212 _sq._, 462 _sqq._\n\nLandtman, Dr. G., 214\n\nLang, Andrew, 216 _sq._\n\nLaos, burial custom in, 459\n\nLeaf as badge of a ghost, 391\n\nLeaves thrown on scene of murder, 415\n\nLeg bones of the dead preserved, 221, 249\n\nLegs of corpse broken in order to disable the ghost, 153\n\nLehner, Stefan, 256\n\nLepchis of Sikhim, burial custom of the, 455\n\nLe Souef, A. A. C., 40 _sq._\n\nLibations to ancestral gods, 430, 438\n\nLicence, period of, following circumcision, 427 _sq._;\n  following initiation, 433, 434 _n._ 1, 436 _sq._\n\nLicentious orgy following circumcision, 427 _sq._\n\nLife in the other world like life in this, 286 _sq._\n\nLightning, savage theory of, 19\n\nLights, phosphorescent, thought to be ghosts, 198, 258\n\nLime, powdered, used to dust the trail of a ghost, 277 _sq._\n\n_Lio'a_, a powerful ghost, 346\n\nLiver extracted by magic, 50;\n  divination by, 54\n\nLivers of pigs offered to the dead, 360 _sq._\n\nLizard in divination as to cause of death, 44;\n  in myths of the origin of death, 60 _sq._, 70, 74 _sq._\n\nLizards, ghosts in, 380\n\nLocal totem centres, 97, 99, 124\n\nLong soul and short soul, 291 _sq._\n\nLost souls, recovery of, 270 _sq._, 300 _sq._\n\nLuck, bad, in fishing and hunting, caused by ghosts, 197\n\nLuck of a village dependent on ghosts, 198\n\n_Lum_, men's clubhouse, 243, 250, 257\n\n\nMabuiag, island of, 174\n\nMacassars, burial custom of the, 461\n\nMacluer Gulf in Dutch New Guinea, 317, 318\n\nMad, stones to drive people, 335\n\nMadagascar, ideas as to natural death in, 48 _sq._\n\nMafulu (Mambule), the, of British New Guinea, 198 _sqq._\n\nMaggots, appearance of, sign of departure of soul, 292\n\nMagic as a cause of death, 34 _sqq._;\n  Age of, 58;\n  attributed to aboriginal inhabitants of a country, 193;\n  homoeopathic or imitative, 288, 335, 336, 338, 376;\n  combined with religion, 111 _sq._, 334, 335, 336, 337, 338, 376;\n  Melanesian conception of, 380 _sq._;\n  working by means of personal refuse, 413 _sq._\n  _See also_ Sorcery _and_ Witchcraft\n\n---- and religion compared in reference to their destruction of human\nlife, 56 _sq._\n\nMagical ceremonies for increasing the food supply, 102;\n  ceremonies for the multiplication of totems, 124 _sq._;\n  intention of dramatic ceremonies in Central Australia, 122 _sq._, 126;\n  virtues attributed to sacred stones in New Caledonia, 334 _sqq._\n\nMagician or priest, 336, 338.\n  _See also_ Sorcerer\n\nMagicians, their importance in history, 16;\n  but no priests at Doreh, 306\n\nMalagasy, their ideas as to natural death, 48 _sq._\n\nMalanta, one of the Solomon Islands, 350\n\nMalayalis, the, of Malabar, 162\n\nMalignity of ghosts, 212, 381\n\nMalo, island of, 48\n\nMan creates gods in his own likeness, 19 _sq._\n\n----, grandeur and dignity of, 469 _sq._;\n  pettiness and insignificance of, 470 _sq._\n\n_Mana_, supernatural or spiritual power, 346 _sq._, 352, 371, 380\n\n_Manoam_, evil spirits, 321\n\nManoga, a worshipful ghost, 368\n\nManslayers, precautions taken by, against the ghosts of their victims,\n  205 _sq._, 258, 279, 323;\n  secluded, 279 _sq._,\n  consecration of, 448 _sq._;\n  restrictions imposed on, 449.\n  _See also_ Homicides\n\n_Mari_ or _mar_, ghost, 173\n\n_Mariget_, \"ghost-hand,\" 177\n\nMariner, William, 411\n\nMariners, stones to help, 337\n\nMarkets, native, 394\n\nMarotse, burial custom of the, 454\n\nMarquesas Islands, 417\n\nMarried and unmarried, different modes of disposing of their corpses,\n162\n\nMasai, their myth of the origin of death, 65 _sq._\n\nMasked men, dramatic representation of ghosts and spirits by, 176, 179\n_sq._, 180 _sqq._, 185 _sqq._\n\n---- dances, 297;\n  of the Monumbo, 228\n\nMasks worn by actors in sacred ceremonies, 179;\n  used in dances, 233, 297\n\nMasquerades, 297\n\nMassim, the, of British New Guinea, 206\n\nMaster of Life, 163\n\nMatacos Indians, 165\n\nMate, a worshipful spirit, 239\n\nMaterial culture of the natives of New Guinea, 191;\n  of the natives of Tumleo, 219 _sq._;\n  of Papuans, 231;\n  of the Yabim, 242 _sq._;\n  of the Noofoor, 304 _sq._;\n  of the New Caledonians, 339;\n  of the North Melanesians, 393 _sqq._\n\nMawatta or Mowat, 47\n\n_Mbete_, priest, 443, 445\n\nMea, a spiritual medium, 196\n\nMecklenburg, burial custom in, 457\n\nMedicine-men, their importance in history, 16;\n  inspired by spirits of the dead, 322\n\nMedium inspired by soul of dead, 308 _sq._\n\nMediums, spiritual, 196\n\nMediums who send their souls to deadland, 300\n\nMegalithic monuments, 438\n\nMelanesia, Central, belief in immortality among the natives of, 343\n  _sqq._\n\n----, Northern, belief in immortality among the natives of, 393 _sqq._\n\n----, Southern, belief in immortality among the natives of, 324 _sqq._\n\nMelanesian myths of the origin of death, 69, 71 _sq._, 83 _sq._;\n  theory of the soul, 344 _sq._\n\nMelanesians, their ideas as to natural deaths, 48, 54 _sq._;\n  Central, funeral customs of the, 347 _sqq._, 355 _sqq._;\n  and Papuans in New Guinea, 190 _sq._\n\nMemorial trees, 225\n\nMen sacrificed to support posts of new house, 446 _sq._;\n  whipped by women in mourning, 452\n\nMen's clubhouses, 221, 225, 226, 243, 256 _sq._, 355\n\nMentras or Mantras of the Malay Peninsula, 73\n\nMerivale on Dartmoor, 438\n\nMessengers, the Two, myth of origin of death, 60 _sqq._\n\nMessou, Indian magician, 78\n\nMetals unknown in Northern Melanesia, 395\n\nMetempsychosis, widespread belief in, 29\n\nMethods of treating natural theology, 1 _sqq._\n\n---- of natural knowledge, 11\n\nMexicans, the ancient, 163\n\nMeyer, H. E. A., 42\n\nMigration of villages, 339\n\nMigratory cultivation, 243\n\nMiklucho-Maclay, Baron N., 235\n\nMilky Way, Central Australian belief as to the, 140;\n  souls of dead go to, 153\n\nMilne Bay, 207\n\nMimika district in Dutch New Guinea, 318\n\nMinnetaree Indians, 163\n\nMisfortunes of all kinds caused by ghosts, 306 _sq._\n\nMoanus, the, of the Admiralty Islands, 400\n\nMonarchical government, rise of, 141 _sq._\n\nMonsoon, south-east, festival at, 255\n\nMonsoons, seasons determined by, 216\n\nMonster supposed to swallow lads at initiation, 251 _sq._, 255, 260,\n261, 290 _sq._, 301 _sq._\n\nMonumbo, the, of German New Guinea, 227 _sq._\n\nMonuments of the dead, 225\n\nMoon, the waxing and waning, in myths of the origin of death, 60, 65\n_sqq._\n\n---- in relation to doctrine of resurrection, 67 _sq._;\n  worship of the, 68\n\nMoral restraint afforded by a fear of ghosts, 175\n\n---- depravity of the Fijians, 409\n\nMorality, superstition a crutch to, 175\n\nMortuary dramas, 189\n\n_Mos_, a disembodied soul, 224\n\nMota, island of, 387\n\nMotlav, in the Banks' Islands, 357\n\nMotu, the, of British New Guinea, 192\n\nMound erected in a totemic ceremony, 110 _sq._\n\nMounds on graves, 150, 164\n\nMourners, professional, 136\n\n---- smeared with white clay, 158, 177;\n  painted black, 178, 293, 403;\n  garb of, 184, 198;\n  cut their hair, 183, 204, 320, 451;\n  abstain from certain foods, 198, 208, 209, 230, 314, 360, 452;\n  restrictions observed by, 313 _sq._;\n  tattooed, 314;\n  purified by bathing, 314, 319;\n  plastered with mud, 318;\n  cut or tear their ears, 183, 272, 327;\n  secluded, 360;\n  smeared with ashes, 361;\n  anoint themselves with juices of putrefying corpse, 403;\n  amputate their fingers, 199, 451;\n  burn their skin, 154, 155, 157, 327, 451.\n  _See also_ Cuttings _and_ Seclusion\n\nMourning, hair cut in, 135;\n  extravagant demonstrations of grief in, 135 _sq._;\n  for a father-in-law, 155;\n  amputation of fingers in, 199;\n  varying period of, 274, 293;\n  for a king, 451 _sq._\n\n---- costume, 249, 274, 320;\n  a protection against ghosts, 241 _sq._;\n  of widower and widow, 259 _sq._\n\nMowat or Mawatta, 47\n\nMud, mourners plastered with, 318\n\nMukden, burial custom in, 460\n\nMukjarawaint tribe, 155\n\nMummies of dead preserved in houses, 188\n\nMummification of the dead, 184, 185, 313\n\n_Mungai_, places associated with totems, 117, 124\n\nMurder, leaves thrown on scene of, 415\n\n---- highly esteemed in Fiji, 447 _sq._\n\nMurdered man, ghost of, haunts murderer, 248\n\nMurimuria, a second-rate heaven, 466\n\nMurray Island, 174\n\nMutilations, bodily, at puberty, 303\n\nMyth of the prelogical savage, 266\n\n---- of the continuance of death, 472\n\nMyths of the origin of death, 59 _sqq._\n\n\n_Nai_, souls of the dead, 240\n\nNai Thombothombo, in Fiji, 463\n\nNails of dead detached, 145;\n  preserved, 339\n\nNaindelinde in Fiji, 465\n\nNaiteru-kop, a Masai god, 65\n\nNamaquas, their myth of the origin of death, 65\n\nNambanaggatai, in Fiji, 465\n\nNambi and the origin of death, 78 _sqq._\n\nName of mythical water-snake not uttered, 105\n\nNames of the dead not mentioned, 135, 210, 246\n\nNandi, their myth of the origin of death, 66\n\n_Nanga_, sacred stone enclosure, 428 _sqq._;\n  description of, 437 _sq._\n\nNangganangga, the foe of unmarried ghosts, 464\n\n_Nanja_ tree or stone, 98\n\n---- spot, 164, 165\n\nNarrinyeri tribe of South Australia, 43;\n  their beliefs as to the dead, 134 _sqq._\n\nNassau, Rev. R. H., 51\n\nNative beliefs influenced by European teaching, 142 _sq._\n\nNatural theology defined, 1, 8\n\n---- death, disbelief of savages in, 33 _sqq._\n\n---- causes of death recognised by some savages, 55 _sq._\n\n---- features of landscape associated with traditions about the dead,\n115 _sqq._\n\nNature, gods of, 20;\n  souls of the dead identified with spirits of, 130;\n  two different views of human, 469 _sqq._\n\nNayars, the, of Cochin, 162 _sq._\n\nNdengei, Fijian god in form of serpent, 445, 462, 464, 465, 466\n\nNecklaces worn in mourning, 198\n\nNegen Negorijen in Dutch New Guinea, 316, 317\n\nNegrito admixture in New Guinea, 198\n\nNemunemu, a creator, 240\n\nNether world, the lord of the, 286;\n  abode of the dead in the, 292, 299, 322, 326, 353 _sq._;\n  descent of the living into the, 300;\n  _See also_ Land of the Dead\n\nNets worn by widows in mourning, 249, 260, 274, 293;\n  worn by women in mourning, 241\n\nNew birth at initiation, pretence of, 254\n\nNew Britain (New Pomerania), 48, 69, 393, 394, 402, 404\n\n---- Caledonia, natives of, 324;\n  their beliefs and customs concerning the dead, 325 _sqq._;\n  their system of family prayers, 332 _sq._, 340;\n  material culture of the, 339\n\n---- Georgia, 48\n\n---- Guinea, aborigines of, their ideas as to natural death, 47;\n  the races of, 190 _sq._;\n  belief in immortality among the natives of British, 190 _sqq._;\n  belief in immortality among the natives of Dutch, 303 _sqq._;\n  belief in immortality among the natives of German, 216 _sqq._\n\nNew Hebrides, myth of the origin of death in, 71, 343, 353\n\n---- Ireland (New Mecklenburg), 393, 397\n\n---- South Wales, aborigines of, their ideas as to the causes of death,\n  45 _sq._;\n  as to the home of the dead, 133 _sq._\n\nNewton, Alfred, 90 _n._ 1\n\nNeyaux, the, of the Ivory Coast, 52\n\n_Ngai_, human spirit, 129\n\nNgoc, the, of Annam, 69\n\nNgoni, the, 61\n\nNias, island of, 70\n\nNigeria, Northern, 28 _n._ 1, 49\n\nNiggardly people punished in the other world, 405\n\nNoblemen alone immortal, 33\n\nNoofoor, the, of Dutch New Guinea, 303\n\nNoomfor, island, 303\n\nNorse burial custom, 453\n\nNoses bored, ghosts should have their, 192, 194 _sq._\n\nNovices presented to ancestral spirits at initiation, 432 _sq._, 434\n\nNukahiva, one of the Marquesas Islands, 417\n\n\nObjects offered to the dead broken, 276\n\nOffering, soul of, consumed by deity or spirit, 297, 298\n\nOfferings of food and water to the dead, 174;\n  of food to the dead, 183, 201, 208, 211, 214, 232, 241, 332, 338,\n  364 _sq._, 367 _sq._, 372 _sq._, 396 _sq._, 429, 442, 467;\n  of blood and hair to the dead, 183;\n  of game and fish to the dead, 226;\n  to the dead, 239, 276, 292;\n  of first-fruits to the dead, 259;\n  to ancestors, 298;\n  of food to ghosts, 348 _sq._;\n  to ghosts, 364 _sq._;\n  of first-fruits to ancestral spirits, 429;\n  of cloth and weapons to ancestral spirits, 430 _sq._\n  _See also_ Sacrifices\n\n----, burnt, to the dead, 294\n\n_Oknanikilla_, local totem centre, 97, 99, 124\n\nOld and young, difference between the modes of burying, 161, 162 _sq._\n\nOld people buried alive, 359\n\nOlympia, Pelops at, 159\n\nOmens after a death, 319\n\nOpening, special, for carrying dead out of house, 452 _sqq._\n\nOracles of dead kings, 151\n\n---- of the dead, 151, 176, 179, 235\n\nOracular responses of Fijian priests, 443 _sqq._\n\nOranges, spirits of the dead play with, 326\n\nOrdeal to detect sorcerer, 50 _sqq._\n\nOrgy, licentious, following circumcision, 427 _sq._\n\nOrigin of belief in immortality, 26 _sqq._\n\n---- of death, myths of the, 59 _sqq._\n\nOrion's belt, 368\n\nOrnaments of corpse removed before burial, 223, 234, 241\n\n\nPahouins, the, 54\n\nPalsy, a Samoan god, 72\n\nPandanus, reason for planting, 362\n\n---- and ghosts, 463\n\nPanoi, Melanesian land of the dead, 83, 345, 353 _sq._, 355, 356\n\nPapuan art, 220\n\nPapuans, animistic views of the, 264\n\n---- and Melanesians in New Guinea, 190 _sq._\n\n_Paraks_, temples, 220\n\nParents deified, 439\n\nParkinson, R., 219, 221\n\nPelops, human blood offered on grave of, 159\n\nPenates in New Guinea, 308, 317\n\nPennefather River, natives of the, their belief in reincarnation of the\ndead, 128\n\nPerche, burial custom in, 458\n\nPersonal refuse, magic working through, 386, 413 _sq._\n\nPersonification of natural phenomena, 20;\n  of death, 81\n\nPhosphorescent lights supposed to be ghosts, 198, 258\n\n_Physostigma venenosum_ in poison ordeal, 52\n\nPiety, two types of, 23;\n  co-operative system of, 333\n\nPigs, blood of, smeared on skulls and bones of the dead, 200;\n  sacrificed to the dead, 201;\n  sacrificed to monster who swallows lads at initiation, 251, 253, 260,\n  290, 301;\n  sacrificed at grave, 356;\n  sacrificed at burial, 359;\n  sacrificed to ghosts, 365 _sq._;\n  sacrificed vicariously for the sick, 373, 374, 375;\n  sacred, 433\n\n----, livers of, offered to the dead, 360 _sq._\n\nPines, Isle of, 325, 330, 337\n\nPirnmeheel, good spirit, 143\n\nPlace of sacrifice to ghosts, 370\n\nPlanting, sacrifices to ghosts at, 375\n\nPlatforms, dead laid on, 199, 203, 205\n\nPlato, on death, 33\n\nPleiades, the, 368\n\nPlum-tree people, 94\n\n---- totem, dramatic ceremony connected with, 120, 121\n\nPoison ordeal to detect sorcerers, 50 _sqq._\n\nPolitical constitution of the Fijians, 407\n\nPollution, ceremonial, of gravediggers, 327\n\nPolynesian blood, infusion of, in New Guinea, 291\n\n---- race, 406\n\nPolytheism and monotheism, 11\n\nPolytheism discarded, 20 _sq._\n\nPopulation, belief in sorcery a cause of keeping down the, 38, 40, 46\n_sq._, 51 _sqq._\n\nPort Lincoln tribe of S. Australia, 42\n\n---- Moresby, 193, 195\n\nPoso in Celebes, 72\n\nPosts of new house, men sacrificed to support, 446 _sq._\n\nPotsdam Harbour, in German New Guinea, 218, 227\n\nPottery, native, 220;\n  in New Guinea, 305\n\n----, Fijian, 407\n\n---- unknown in Northern Melanesia, 395\n\nPractical character of the savage, 274\n\nPrayer-posts, 333 _sq._\n\nPrayers to the dead, 201 _sq._, 214, 222 _sq._, 259, 288, 307, 329\n  _sq._, 332 _sqq._, 340, 376 _sq._, 401, 403 _sq._, 427, 441;\n  to ghosts, 348\n\nPrecautions taken against ghosts, 152 _sq._, 258;\n  against a wife's ghost, 197;\n  against ghosts of the slain, 205 _sq._\n\nPredominance of the worship of the dead, 297 _sq._\n\nPrelogical savage, myth of the, 266\n\nPretence of attacking persons engaged in attending to a corpse, 177, 178\n\n---- of avenging the dead, 136 _sq._, 282, 328\n  _See also_ Sham fight\n\nPriest, family, 332, 340\n\n----, chief or high, 430, 431, 432, 433, 434\n\n---- or magician, 336, 338\n\nPriests, Fijian, 433 _sqq._\n\nPrivate or tame ghosts, 369 _sq._, 381, 382, 386\n\n---- property, rights of, consolidated by taboo, 390\n\nProblem of death, 31 _sqq._\n\nProgress partly determined by competition, 89 _sq._\n\n----, social, stimulated by favourable natural conditions, 148 _sq._\n\nPromiscuity, temporary, 427 _sq._, 433, 434 _n._ 1, 436 _sq._\n\nProperty displayed beside the corpse, 397\n\n----, rights of private, consolidated by taboo, 390;\n  temporarily suspended, 427 _sq._\n\nProperty of dead deposited in grave, 145 _sqq._, 359, 397;\n  motive for destroying, 147 _sq._;\n  hung up on trees, 148;\n  destroyed, 327, 459;\n  burnt, 401 _sq._\n\nProphecy inspired by ghosts, 388\n\nProphets inspired by ghosts, 388 _sq._\n\n----, Hebrew, 14\n\nPropitiation of the dead, 201, 307, 338;\n  of ghosts and spirits, 226, 239, 348\n\nPuberty, initiation at, 254 _sq._;\n  bodily mutilations at, 303\n\nPublic ghosts, 367, 369\n\nPurification of homicides, 206, 229\n\n---- by bathing and shaving, 208\n\n---- of mourners by bathing, 314, 319\n\n\nQueensland, belief in reincarnation of the dead among the aborigines of,\n  127 _sqq._;\n  burial customs in, 147\n\n\nRain sent by a mythical water-snake, 112, 114;\n  prayers for, 288;\n  stones to make, 336 _sq._\n\n---- and sunshine caused by a ghost, 375\n\n---- -ghost, 375\n\n---- -making, 288;\n    by the bones of the dead, 341\n\nRat in myth of the origin of death, 67\n\nRationality of the savage, 264 _sqq._\n\nRebirth of the dead, 93 _sq._, 107, 127 _sq._\n  _See also_ Reincarnation\n\n---- of parents in their children, 315\n\nRecovery of lost souls, 194, 270 _sq._, 300 _sq._\n\nRed, skulls painted, 178\n\nRed bark in poison ordeals, 50, 52\n\n---- paint, manslayers smeared with, 448, 449\n\n---- roses, corpse crowned with, 233, 234\n\nReflection or shadow, soul associated with, 207, 267\n\nRefuse, personal, magic working by means of, 413 _sq._\n\nReincarnation, widespread belief in, 29.\n  _See also_ Rebirth\n\n---- doctrine of, unknown in Torres Straits, 172\n\n---- of the dead, belief of Central Australians in, 92 _sqq._, 107\n\n---- of the dead, 124 _sq._, 127 _sq._;\n    of Australian aborigines in white people, 130, 131 _sqq._;\n    of parents in their children, 315;\n    of grandfather in grandchild, 417, 418\n\nRelics of the dead as amulets, 332, 370;\n  preserved, 348\n\nReligion, importance of the history of, 3;\n  embryology of, 88\n\nReligion and magic compared in reference to their destruction of human\n  life, 57 _sq._;\n  combined in ritual, 111 _sq._, 334, 335, 336, 337, 338, 376\n\n---- and theology, how related, 9\n\nResemblance of children to the dead, a source of belief in the\ntransmigration of souls, 28 _sq._\n\nRestrictions observed by mourners, 313 _sq._;\n  ceremonial, laid on gravediggers, 327;\n  imposed on manslayers, 449\n\nResurrection, ceremony of, among the Akikuya, 254\n\n---- from the dead after three days, 67 _sq._;\n  of the dead, steps taken to prevent the, 144;\n  as an initiatory rite at puberty, 254 _sq._, 261, 302, 431, 434 _sq._\n\nReturn of the ghosts, 195, 198, 246, 300\n\nRevelation, the question of a supernatural, 8 _sq._\n\nRevival, temporary, of primitive communism, 436 _sq._\n\nRheumatism attributed to sorcery, 45\n\nRhodesia, 77\n\nRibs of dead distributed among relatives, 400\n\nRidgeway, W., on the origin of Greek tragedy, 189\n\nRights of property temporarily suspended, 427 _sq._\n\nRitual combining elements of religion and magic, 111 _sq._\n\nRivalry between man and animals for gift of immortality, 74 _sq._\n\nRiver crossed by souls of the dead, 299, 462\n\nRocking stone, 213\n\nRoro-speaking tribes of British New Guinea, 47, 196, 198\n\nRoth, W. E., 128\n\nRun or Ron, island, 303, 311\n\nRussia, burial custom in, 453\n\n\nSaa, in Malanta, 350, 351, 372, 378\n\nSacrament of pork and water at initiation, 432 _sq._\n\nSacred stones in New Caledonia, magical virtues attributed to, 334\n_sqq._\n\n---- enclosure of stones (_Nanga_) in Fiji, 428 _sqq._, 437 _sq._\n\n---- pigs, 433\n\nSacrifice, crude motives for, 298 _sq._;\n  place of, 332\n\n---- of dogs in epidemics, 296;\n    of foreskins and fingers in honour of the dead, 426 _sq._\n\nSacrifices to the dead, economic loss entailed by, 149\n\n---- to the dead, 239, 307, 338.\n  _See also_ Offerings\n\nSacrifices, burnt, reasons for, 348 _sq._;\n  burnt, to ghosts, 366, 367 _sq._, 373\n\n---- to ghosts, 328; at planting, 375\n\n----, human, to ghosts, 371 _sq._;\n  human, in Fiji, 446 _sq._\n\nSacrificial ritual in the Solomon Islands, 365 _sq._\n\nSaddle Mountain in German New Guinea, 262\n\nSt. Joseph River in New Guinea, 196, 198\n\nSakalava, the, of Madagascar, 49;\n  burial custom of, 461\n\nSaleijer, island of, burial custom in, 461\n\nSamoa, 406\n\n---- Harbour, in German New Guinea, 256\n\nSamoan myth of the origin of death, 72\n\nSamoyeds, burial custom of the, 457\n\nSamu-yalo, the killer of souls, 465\n\nSan Cristoval, one of the Solomon Islands, 347, 376\n\nSanctuaries, primitive, 99\n\n---- of ghosts, 377 _sq._\n\nSanctuary, grave of worshipful dead becomes a, 347\n\nSanitation based on fear of sorcery, 386 _sq._, 414\n\nSanta Cruz Islands, 343\n\nSanta Cruz, in the Solomon Islands, burial customs at, 352;\n  sacrifices to ghosts in, 374 _sq._\n\nSavage, myth of the prelogical, 266\n\n----, practical character of the, 274\n\n----, rationality of the, 264 _sqq._\n\n---- notions of causality, 19 _sq._;\n  conception of death, 31 _sqq._;\n  disbelief in death from natural causes, 33 _sqq._;\n  thought vague and inconsistent, 143\n\n---- religion, the study of, 7\n\nSavagery, importance of the study of, 6 _sq._;\n  a case of arrested or retarded development, 88 _sq._;\n  rise of monarchy essential to emergence from, 142\n\nSavages pay little attention to the stars, 140;\n  strength and universality of belief in immortality among, 468\n\nSavo, one of the Solomon Islands, 347\n\nScarf, soul caught in a, 412 _sq._\n\nScenery of Fiji, 409 _sq._\n\nSchomburgk, Richard, 38\n\nSchuermann, C. W., 42 _sq._\n\nScientific conception of the world as a system of impersonal forces, 20\n_sq._\n\nScotland, burial custom in, 453, 458\n\nSea, land of the dead at the bottom of the, 307, 326\n\n---- -burial, 397\n\n---- -burial and land-burial, 347 _sq._\n\n---- -ghosts and land-ghosts, 348\n\nSeclusion of widow and widower, 204, 248 _sq._, 259, 275;\n  of relatives at grave, 209;\n  of mourners, 223 _sq._, 313 _sq._, 360;\n  of novices at circumcision, 251 _sq._, 260 _sq._, 302;\n  of manslayers, 279 _sq._;\n  of gravediggers, 327, 451;\n  of female mourners, 398\n\nSeclusion and purification of manslayer, 229 _sq._\n\nSecond death of the dead, 195, 287, 299, 345, 350, 351, 354\n\nSecret societies, 395\n\n---- Society (_Asa_), 233\n\nSeemann, Berthold, 439 _sq._\n\nSeer describes ghosts, 204 _sq._\n\nSeget Sele, the, of Dutch New Guinea, 317\n\nSeligmann, Dr. C. G., 47, 191, 197, 206\n\nSelwyn, Bishop, 363\n\nSerpent and his cast skin in myths of the origin of death, 60, 69\n_sqq._, 74 _sq._, 83\n\n----, god in form of, 445, 462\n\nSerpents, souls of the dead in the form of, 300\n\nSetting sun, ghosts attracted to the, 175 _sq._\n\nSexual licence following initiation, 433, 434 _n._ 1, 436 _sq._\n\nShadow or reflection, human soul associated with, 129, 130, 173, 207,\n267, 395, 412\n\nShadows of people seized by ghosts, 378, 383\n\nShaking of medium a symptom of inspiration, 308, 309, 311\n\nSham attack on men engaged in attending to a corpse, 177, 178\n\n---- burial, 356\n\n---- fight to appease ghost, 136 _sq._;\n  as a funeral ceremony, 235 _sq._, 327 _sq._;\n  as a ceremony to promote the growth of yams, 330.\n  _See also_ Pretence\n\nSharks animated by ghosts, 348\n\n----, ghosts incarnate in, 373, 380;\n  images of, 373\n\nShaving heads of mourners, 208\n\nSheep in story of the origin of death, 64\n\nShell-money, 394;\n  laid on corpse and buried with it, 398\n\nShortlands Islands, 71\n\nShrine of warrior ghost, 365\n\nShrines for ancestral spirits, 316, 317\n\nSiamese, burial custom of the, 456\n\nSiasi Islands, 244\n\nSick and old buried alive in Fiji, 420 _sqq._\n\nSickness caused by demons, 194;\n  caused by ghosts, 56 _sq._, 195, 197, 222, 269 _sq._, 271, 279, 300,\n  305, 322, 372, 381 _sqq._, 389\n\n---- supposed to be an effect of witchcraft, 35 _sqq._\n\nSickness and death set down to sorcery, 240, 257\n\n---- and disease recognised by some savages as due to natural causes,\n  55 _sq._\n  _See also_ Disease\n\nSido, his journey to the land of the dead, 211 _sq._\n\nSins, confession of, 201\n\nSkin cast as a means of renewing youth, 69 _sqq._, 74 _sq._, 83\n\nSkull-shaped stones in rain-making, 336 _sq._\n\nSkulls, spirits of the dead embodied in their, 338\n\n---- and arm-bones, special treatment of the, 199 _sq._;\n  carried by dancers at funeral dance, 200\n\n---- of the dead preserved, 199 _sqq._, 209, 249, 318, 328, 339, 347,\n  351 _sq._, 398, 400 _sq._, 403;\n  preserved and consulted as oracles, 176, 178 _sq._, 179;\n  used in divination, 213;\n  kept in men's clubhouses, 221, 225;\n  inserted in wooden images, 311 _sq._, 321;\n  religious ceremonies performed with the, 329 _sq._;\n  food offered to the, 339 _sq._, 352;\n  used to fertilise plantations, 340;\n  used in conjurations, 402\n\nSky, souls of the dead thought to be in the, 133 _sq._, 135, 138 _sq._,\n141, 142\n\nSlain, ghosts of the, especially dreaded, 205, 258, 279, 306, 323\n\nSleep, soul thought to quit body in, 257, 291, 395, 412\n\nSmith, E. R., 53\n\nSmyth, R. Brough, 43 _sq._\n\nSnakes, ghosts in, 380\n\nSneezing, omens from, 194\n\nSocial progress stimulated by favourable natural conditions, 141 _sq._,\n148 _sq._\n\n---- ranks, gradation of, in Fiji, 408\n\nSolomon Islands, 343, 346 _sqq._;\n  sacrificial ritual in the, 365 _sq._\n\nSomosomo, one of the Fijian islands, 425, 441, 442\n\nSorcerers, their importance in history, 16\n\n---- catch and detain souls, 267, 268 _sq._, 270\n\n---- put to death, 35, 35 _sq._, 37 _sq._, 40 _sq._, 44, 50, 136, 250,\n  269, 277, 278 _sq._, 341 _sq._\n  _See also_ Magician\n\nSorcery as the supposed cause of natural deaths, 33 _sqq._, 136, 268,\n  270, 402;\n  sickness and death ascribed to, 257\n\n---- a cause of keeping down the population, belief in, 38, 40, 46\n  _sq._, 51 _sqq._\n\n---- Fijian dread of, 413 _sq._;\n  _See also_ Magic _and_ Witchcraft\n\nSores ascribed to action of ghosts, 257\n\n_Soro_, atonement, 427\n\nSoul, world-wide belief in survival of soul after death, 24, 25, 33\n\nSoul of sleeper detained by enemy, 49;\n  human, associated with shadow or reflection, 173, 267, 395, 412;\n  pretence of carrying away the, 181 _sq._;\n  detained by demon, 194;\n  recovery of a lost, 194, 270 _sq._;\n  thought to quit body in sleep, 257, 291, 395, 412;\n  resides in the eye, 267;\n  thought to pervade the body, 267;\n  two kinds of human, 267 _sq._;\n  caught and detained by sorcerer, 267, 268 _sq._, 270;\n  long soul and short soul, 291 _sq._;\n  of offering consumed by deity or spirit, 297, 298;\n  thought to reside in the blood, 307;\n  Melanesian theory of the, 344 _sq._;\n  of sick tied up by ghost, 374;\n  North Melanesian theory of the, 395 _sq._;\n  in form of animals, 396;\n  Fijian theory of the, 410 _sqq._;\n  caught in a scarf, 412 _sq._;\n  of grandfather reborn in grandchild, 417;\n  of offerings consumed by gods, 443\n\n---- -stuff or spiritual essence, 267 _sq._, 270, 271, 279.\n  _See also_ Spirit\n\nSouls, recovery of lost, 300 _sq._;\n  River of the, 462;\n  the killer of, 464 _sq._\n\n---- of animals, sacrifices to the, 239;\n  of animals offered to ghosts, 246\n\n---- attributed by the Fijians to animals, vegetables, and inanimate\nthings, 410 _sq._\n\n---- of the dead identified with spirits of nature, 130;\n  turned into animals, 229;\n  as falling stars, 229;\n  live in trees, 316\n\n---- carried off by ghosts, 197, 383;\n  of sorcerers in animals, 39\n\n---- of noblemen only saved, 33;\n  of those who died from home called back, 311\n\nSpells or incantations, 385\n\nSpencer and Gillen, 46 _sq._, 91 _sq._, 103, 104, 105, 106, 108, 116\n_sqq._, 123 _sq._, 140, 148, 156, 157, 158\n\nSpider and Death, 82 _sq._\n\nSpirit, human, associated with the heart, 129;\n  associated with the shadow, 129, 130.\n  _See also_ Soul\n\nSpirits, ancestral, help hunters and fishers, 226;\n  worshipped in the _Nanga_, 428 _sq._;\n  cloth and weapons offered to, 430 _sq._;\n  novices presented to, at initiation, 432 _sq._, 434\n\n---- of animals go to the spirit land, 210\n\n---- consume spiritual essence of sacrifices, 285, 287, 297, 298\n\n---- of the dead thought to be strengthened by blood, 159;\n  reborn in women, 93 _sq._;\n  give information to the living, 240;\n  give good crops, 247 _sq._;\n  thought to be mischievous, 257\n\nSpirits and ghosts, distinction between, in Central Melanesia, 343, 363\n\n---- and gods, no certain demarcation between, 441\n\n----, grand concert of, 340 _sq._;\n  represented by masked dancers, 297;\n  in tree-tops, 313\n\n----, guardian, 227\n\n---- of nature identified with souls of the dead, 130.\n  _See also_ Dead _and_ Ghost\n\nSpiritual essence or soul-stuff, 267 _sq._, 279.\n  _See also_ Soul-stuff\n\nSquatting posture of corpse in burial, 207\n\nStanbridge, W. E., 44\n\nStars associated with the souls of the dead, 134, 140;\n  little regarded by savages, 140;\n  falling, the souls of the dead, 229\n\nSteinen, K. von den, 35\n\nSternberg, L., 15 _n._ 1\n\nStick, cleft, used in cure, 271\n\nStillborn children, burial of, 458\n\nStocks, wooden, as representatives of the dead, 374, 386\n\nStolz, Mr., 238, 239\n\nStomach, soul seated in, 291 _sq._\n\nStone, a rocking, 213\n\n---- used in rain-making, 288\n\n---- of Famine, 334\n\n---- of the Sun, 336\n\nStonehenge, 438\n\nStones, sacred, in New Caledonia, magical virtues attributed to, 334\n  _sqq._;\n  sacred, in sanctuaries, 377 _sq._\n\n---- used as altars, 379\n\nStones inhabited by ghosts, 383 _sq._\n\nStore-houses, sacred, in Central Australia, 99, 101\n\nStrangling the sick and aged in Fiji, 423 _sq._\n\n_Sua_, human spirit or ghost, 193\n\nSuicide to escape decrepitude of old age, 422 _sq._\n\nSuicides, burial of, 164, 453, 458\n\nSulka, the, of New Britain, 398 _sq._\n\nSumatra, the Gajos of, 455\n\nSun and the origin of death, 77\n\n----, ghosts attracted to the setting, 175 _sq._\n\n----, Stone of the, 336\n\nSunshine, the making of, 336\n\n---- and rain caused by a ghost, 375\n\nSupernatural or spiritual power (_mana_) acquired from ghosts, 346\n_sq._, 352, 371, 380\n\nSuperstition a crutch to morality, 175\n\nSupreme Being unknown among aborigines of Central Australia, 91 _sq._;\n  among the Monumbo, 228\n\nSurvival of human soul after death, world-wide belief in, 24, 25, 33\n\nSwallowed by monster, pretence that candidates at initiation are, 251\n_sqq._, 260 _sq._, 290 _sq._, 301 _sq._\n\nSwine sent to ravage fields by ghosts, 278\n\nSymbolism of prayer-posts, 333 _sq._\n\n\nTaboo, meaning of, 390;\n  in Central Melanesia based on a fear of ghosts, 390 _sq._;\n  a prop of monarchical power, 408\n\n_Tabu_, demon, 194\n\nTago, spirits, 297\n\nTahiti, 439\n\nTamanachiers, an Indian tribe, 70 _sq._\n\nTami Islanders of German New Guinea, 291 _sqq._\n\nTaming a ghost, 370\n\nTamos, the, of German New Guinea, 230\n\nTanna, one of the New Hebrides, 369, 439\n\nTanoa, king of Fiji, 425\n\nTaplin, Rev. George, 43, 134 _sqq._\n\n_Tapum_, guardian spirits, 227\n\nTaro, prayer for good crop of, 289\n\nTasmanians, the, 89\n\nTattooing as sign of mourning, 314\n\nTeeth of dead worn by relatives, 314 _sq._, 400, 404;\n  used as amulets, 332;\n  preserved as relics, 339;\n  used to fertilise plantations, 340\n\nTemples (_paraks_) in Tumleo, 220 _sq._\n\n----, Fijian, 439, 441 _sq._\n\nTerer, a mythical being, 181\n\nThapauerlu, a pool, 105, 108\n\nTheology, natural, defined, 1, 8\n\n---- and religion, how related, 9\n\nThomson, Basil, 408, 414, 428 _n._ 1, 429 _n._ 1, 434 _n._ 1, 436\n\nThreats of the dying, 273\n\nThree days, resurrection after, 67 _sq._\n\nThreshold, the dead carried out under the, 453, 457;\n  movable, 457\n\nThrush in story of the origin of death, 61 _sq._\n\nThunder the voice of a mythical being, 112, 114, 143\n\n_Tindalo_, a powerful ghost, 346\n\nTinneh or Dene Indians, their ideas as to death, 39 _sq._\n\nTlaloc, Mexican rain-god, 163\n\nTlingit Indians, 163;\n  burial custom of the, 455\n\nTo Kambinana, 69\n\nTo Korvuvu, 69\n\nTogoland, West Africa, 81\n\nToll exacted from ghosts, 224\n\nTollkeeper, ghostly, 224\n\nTonga, 406, 411\n\nTongans, their limited doctrine of immortality, 33\n\nTorres Islands, 343, 353\n\n---- Straits Islanders, their ideas as to sickness and death, 47;\n  their belief in immortality, 170 _sqq._;\n  their ethnological affinity and social culture, 170 _sqq._;\n  funeral ceremonies of the, 176 _sqq._\n\nTotem, a dominant, 113;\n  design emblematic of, 168\n\nTotemic ancestor developing into a god, 113;\n  ancestors, traditions concerning, 115 _sqq._\n\n---- animals, imitation of, 177\n\n---- clans, 104;\n  animals and plants eaten, 120 _sq._;\n  animals and plants dramatically represented by actors, 121 _sq._\n\nTotemism, 95;\n  possibly developing into ancestor worship, 114 _sq._;\n  in Torres Straits, 172\n\nTotems, dramatic ceremonies connected with, 119 _sqq._;\n  eaten, 120 _sqq._;\n  magical ceremonies for the multiplication of, 124 _sq._\n\nTracking a ghost, 277 _sq._\n\nTraditions of the dead associated with conspicuous features of the\nlandscape, 115 _sqq._\n\nTransmigration, widespread belief in, 29;\n  of dead into animals, 242, 245;\n  of souls, 322;\n  Fijian doctrine of, 467\n\nTravancore, burial custom in, 456\n\nTree of immortality, 74\n\nTree-burial, 161, 166, 167, 199, 203;\n  of young children, 312 _sq._\n\n---- -tops, spirits in, 313\n\nTrees, property of dead hung up on, 148;\n  as monuments of the dead, 225;\n  huts built in, 263;\n  souls of the dead live in, 316\n\nTremearne, Major A. J. N., 28 _n._ 1\n\nTruth of the belief in immortality, question of the, 469 _sqq._\n\nTsiabiloum, the land of the dead, 326\n\nTube inserted in grave, 277\n\nTubes, magical, 269, 270\n\nTubetube, island of, 206, 209, 210\n\nTugeri or Kaya-Kaya, the, of Dutch New Guinea, 255\n\nTully River in Queensland, 130\n\nTulmeng, lord of the nether world, 286\n\nTumleo, island of, 218 _sqq._\n\nTumudurere, a mythical being, 207\n\nTumupasa, burial custom of the Indians of, 457\n\nTurner, Dr. George, 325, 339, 369\n\nTurrbal tribe, 146\n\nTuski of Alaska, burial custom of the, 456\n\nTwo Messengers, the, myth of the origin of death, 60 _sqq._\n\n\nUganda, first man in, 78;\n  dead kings of, worshipped, 151;\n  jawbones of dead kings of, preserved, 235;\n  war-god of, 366.\n  _See also_ Baganda\n\nUnburied dead, ghosts of the, 349\n\nUnfruitful wife, mode of impregnating, 417\n\nUnkulunkulu, 60\n\nUnmarried ghosts, hard fate of, 464\n\nUmatjera tribe, 68, 166\n\nUrabunna, the, of Central Australia, 95\n\n\nVagueness and inconsistency of savage thought, 143\n\n_Vale tambu_, the Sacred House, 438\n\nVanigela River, 202, 203\n\nVanua Lava, mountain, 355\n\n---- -levu, one of the Fijian Islands, 416, 417, 418, 426\n\nVate or Efat, one of the New Hebrides, 359, 376\n\nVengeance taken on enemies by means of a ghost, 258;\n  ghost calls for, 278, 310, 468\n\nVetter, Konrad, 242, 244, 245, 248, 255\n\nVicarious sacrifices of pigs for the sick, 372, 374, 375\n\nVictoria, aborigines of, their ideas as to natural death, 40 _sq._, 42;\n  their beliefs as to the dead, 142;\n  their burial customs, 145, 145 _sq._;\n  cuttings for the dead among the, 154 _sq._\n\nViews of human nature, two different, 469 _sqq._\n\nVillage of ghosts, 231 _sq._, 234\n\n---- deserted after a death, 275\n\nViti Levu, one of the Fijian Islands, 419, 428, 435, 445\n\nVormann, Franz, 228 _sq._\n\nVuatom, island, 70\n\n\nWagawaga, in British New Guinea, 206 _sqq._\n\nWainimala in Fiji, 436\n\nWakelbura, the, 152\n\nWallace, Alfred Russel, on death, 85 _sq._\n\nWar, ancestral images taken to, 310, 315;\n  perpetual state of, 339\n\n---- -god of Uganda, 366\n\nWarramunga, the, of Central Australia, 94;\n  their totem the Wollunqua, 103 _sqq._, 108 _sqq._;\n  dramatic ceremonies connected with totems among the, 123 _sq._;\n  cuttings for the dead among the, 156 _sqq._;\n  burial customs of the, 167 _sq._\n\nWarrior ghost, 363 _sq._\n\nWarriors pray to ghosts, 288\n\nWars among savages undertaken to appease angry ghosts, 468\n\nWa-Sania, tribe of E. Africa, 66\n\nWashing body a rain-charm, 375\n\nWatch-an-die, tribe of W. Australia, 41\n\nWatch at the grave, 293\n\n---- of widow or widower on grave, 241\n\nWater as a barrier against ghosts, 152;\n  poured as a rain-charm, 375 _sq._\n\n---- great, to be crossed by ghosts, 224\n\n---- -snake, great mythical (Wollunqua), 104 _sqq._, 108 _sqq._\n\nWay to the land of the dead, 212 _sq._\n\nWeakening of religious faith, 4\n\nWeapons deposited with the dead, 145 _sqq._;\n  deposited at grave, 211;\n  of dead broken, 399\n\nWeather regulated by ghosts and spirits, 384 _sq._\n\n---- -doctors, 385 _sq._\n\nWeaving in New Guinea, 305\n\nWeismann, August, on death, 84 _sq._\n\nWemba, the, of Northern Rhodesia, 77\n\nWestern Australia, beliefs as to death among the natives of, 41 _sq._\n\nWhale's teeth as offerings, 420, 421, 429, 443, 444\n\nWhip of souls, 270\n\nWhipping men in mourning, 452\n\nWhite ants' nests, ghosts turn into, 351\n\n---- clay smeared on mourners, 158, 177\n\n---- men identified with the spirits of the dead, 342\n\n---- people, souls of dead Australian aborigines thought to be reborn\nin, 130, 131 _sqq._\n\nWhitened with chalk, bodies of lads after circumcision, 302\n\nWidow, mourning costume of, 184, 204;\n  seclusion of, 204;\n  killed to accompany the ghost of her husband, 249, 275;\n  drinks juices of putrefying corpse, 313\n\nWidower exposed to attacks of his wife's ghost, 197;\n  costume of, 204;\n  seclusion of, 204, 248 _sq._, 259\n\nWidows cut and burn their bodies in mourning, 176\n\nWigs worn by Fijians, 451\n\nWiimbaio tribe, 145\n\nWilkes, Charles, 424 _sq._\n\nWilliams, Thomas, 408, 412, 413, 452, 467\n\nWilliamson, R. W., 201\n\nWind, ghosts float down the, 176\n\nWindessi, in Dutch New Guinea, burial customs at, 318 _sq._\n\n_Wingara_, early mythical times, 116\n\nWitchcraft, fear of, 244;\n  death ascribed to, 277, 402;\n  Fijian terror of, 413 _sq._;\n  benefits derived from, 414\n\nWitchcraft or black magic in Central Melanesia, 386 _sq._\n\n---- as a cause of death, 34 _sqq._\n  _See also_ Sorcery\n\nWitchetty grub totem, dramatic ceremonies concerned with, 121 _sq._, 123\n\nWives of the dead killed, 399;\n  strangled or buried alive at their husbands' funerals in Fiji, 424\n  _sq._\n\nWoibu, the land of the dead, 211\n\nWolgal tribe, 146\n\nWollunqua, mythical water-snake, totem of the Warramunga, 103 _sqq._,\n  108 _sqq._, 125;\n  ceremonies in honour of the, 108 _sqq._\n\nWoman, old, in myths of the origin of death, 64, 71 _sq._\n\n----, the Great, 464\n\nWomen thought not to have immortal spirits, 92;\n  cut and burn their bodies in mourning, 154 _sqq._, 196, 203;\n  excluded from circumcision ground, 291, 301;\n  dance at deaths, 293;\n  drink juices of putrefying corpse, 355;\n  not allowed to be present at sacrifices, 367;\n  whip men in mourning, 452;\n  burial of childless, 458;\n  the cause of death, 472\n\n---- dying in childbed, special treatment of their ghosts, 358;\n  their ghosts specially feared, 212, 458 _sqq._\n\nWordsworth on immortality, 26 _n._ 1\n\nWorship of ancestors, 221, 328 _sqq._, 338;\n  predominance of the, 297 _sq._;\n  possibly evolved from totemism, 114 _sq._\n  _See also_ Worship of the dead.\n\n---- of ancestors in Central Australia, possible evolution of, 125\n  _sq._;\n  of ancestral spirits in the _Nanga_, 428 _sq._\n\n---- of the dead, 23 _sqq._, 328 _sqq._, 338;\n  in part based on a theory of dreams, 27 _sq._;\n  elements of it widespread, 31;\n  in British New Guinea, 201 _sq._;\n  predominance of the, 297 _sq._\n\n---- of the dead, incipient, in Australia, 149, 150, 168 _sq._\n\n---- of the dead in Torres Straits, elements of a, 189;\n  among the Yabim, elements of a, 255\n\nWorshipful ghosts, 362 _sq._\n\nWotjobaluk, the, 67, 139\n\nWraiths, 396\n\nWurunjerri, the, 146\n\n\nYabim, the, of German New Guinea, 242 _sqq._;\n  their ideas as to death, 47\n\nYams, prayers for, 330;\n  stones to make yams grow, 337 _sq._\n\nYoung children buried on trees, 312 _sq._\n\nYoung and old, difference between the modes of burying, 161, 162 _sq._\n\nYouth supposed to be renewed by casting skin, 69 _sqq._, 74 _sq._, 83\n\nYsabel, one of the Solomon Islands, 350, 372, 379, 380\n\nYule Island, 196 _n._ 2, 197\n\n\nZahn, Heinrich, 242, 244\n\nZend-Avesta, 453\n\nZulus, their story of the origin of death, 60 _sq._\n\n\nEND OF VOL. I\n\n\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n\n\nWorks by J. G. FRAZER, D.C.L., LL.D., Litt.D.\n\n\nTHE GOLDEN BOUGH\n\nA STUDY IN MAGIC AND RELIGION\n\nThird Edition, revised and enlarged. 8vo.\n\nPart I. The Magic Art and the Evolution of Kings. Two volumes, 20s. net.\n\nII. Taboo and the Perils of the Soul. One volume. 10s. net.\n\nIII. The Dying God. One volume. Second Impression. 10s. net.\n\nIV. Adonis, Attis, Osiris. One volume. Second Edition. 10s. net.\n\nV. Spirits of the Corn and of the Wild. Two volumes. 20s. net.\n\nVI. The Scapegoat.            (_Spring_, 1913.)\n\nVII. Balder the Beautiful.         (_Spring_, 1913.)\n\n    _TIMES._--\"The verdict of posterity will probably be that _The\n    Golden Bough_ has influenced the attitude of the human mind\n    towards supernatural beliefs and symbolical rituals more\n    profoundly than any other books published in the nineteenth\n    century except those of Darwin and Herbert Spencer.\"\n\n\nLECTURES ON THE EARLY HISTORY OF THE KINGSHIP. 8vo. 8s. 6d. net.\n\n    _ATHENAEUM._--\"It is the effect of a good book not only to teach,\n    but also to stimulate and to suggest, and we think this the best\n    and highest quality, and one that will recommend these lectures\n    to all intelligent readers, as well as to the learned.\"\n\n\nPSYCHE'S TASK. A Discourse concerning the Influence of Superstition on\nthe Growth of Institutions. 8vo. 2s. 6d. net.\n\n    _TIMES._--\"Dr. Frazer has answered the question of how the moral\n    law has been safeguarded, especially in its infancy, with a\n    wealth of learning and a clearness of utterance that leave\n    nothing to be desired. Perhaps the uses of superstition is not\n    quite such a new theme as he seems to fancy. Even the most\n    ignorant of us were aware that many false beliefs of a religious\n    or superstitious character had had very useful moral or\n    physical, or especially sanitary, results. But if the theme is\n    fairly familiar, the curious facts which are adduced in support\n    of it will be new to most people, and will make the book as\n    interesting to read as the lectures must have been to hear.\"\n\n\nTHE SCOPE OF SOCIAL ANTHROPOLOGY. 8vo. Sewed. 6d. net.\n\n    _OXFORD MAGAZINE._--\"In his inaugural lecture the new Professor\n    of Social Anthropology in the University of Liverpool defines\n    his Science, states its aims, and puts in a spirited plea for\n    the scientific study of primitive man while there is still time,\n    before the savage in his natural state becomes as extinct as the\n    dodo.\"\n\nTOTEMISM AND EXOGAMY. A Treatise on Certain Early Forms of Superstition\nand Society. With Maps. Four vols. 8vo. 50s. net.\n\n    Mr. A. E. Crawley in _NATURE_.--\"Prof. Frazer is a great artist\n    as well as a great anthropologist. He works on a big scale; no\n    one in any department of research, not even Darwin, has employed\n    a wider induction of facts. No one, again, has dealt more\n    conscientiously with each fact; however seemingly trivial, it is\n    prepared with minute pains and cautious tests for its destiny as\n    a slip to be placed under the anthropological microscope. He\n    combines, so to speak, the merits of Tintoretto and\n    Meissonier.... That portion of the book which is concerned with\n    totemism (if we may express our own belief at the risk of\n    offending Prof. Frazer's characteristic modesty) is actually\n    'The Complete History of Totemism, its Practice and its Theory,\n    its Origin and its End.'... Nearly two thousand pages are\n    occupied with an ethnographical survey of totemism, an\n    invaluable compilation. The maps, including that of the\n    distribution of totemic peoples, are a new and useful feature.\"\n\n\nPAUSANIAS'S DESCRIPTION OF GREECE.\nTranslated with a Commentary, Illustrations, and Maps.\nSecond Edition. Six vols.  8vo.  126s. net.\n\n    _ATHENAEUM._--\"All these writings in many languages Mr. Frazer\n    has read and digested with extraordinary care, so that his book\n    will be for years _the_ book of reference on such matters, not\n    only in England, but in France and Germany. It is a perfect\n    thesaurus of Greek topography, archaeology, and art. It is,\n    moreover, far more interesting than any dictionary of the\n    subject; for it follows the natural guidance of the Greek\n    traveller, examining every town or village which he describes;\n    analysing and comparing with foreign parallels every myth or\n    fairy tale which he records; citing every information which can\n    throw light on the works of art he admires.\"\n\n\nPAUSANIAS AND OTHER GREEK SKETCHES.\nGlobe 8vo. 4s. net.\n\n    _GUARDIAN._--\"Here we have material which every one who has\n    visited Greece, or purposes to visit it, most certainly should\n    read and enjoy.... We cannot imagine a more excellent book for\n    the educated visitor to Greece.\"\n\n\nLETTERS OF WILLIAM COWPER. Chosen and\nEdited with a Memoir and a few Notes by J. G. Frazer,\nD.C.L., LL.D., Litt.D. Two vols. Globe 8vo. 8s. net.\n\n(_Eversley Series._)\n\n    Mr. Clement Shorter in the _DAILY CHRONICLE_.--\"To the task Dr.\n    Frazer has given a scholarly care that will make the edition one\n    that is a joy to possess. His introductory Memoir, of some\n    eighty pages in length, is a valuable addition to the many\n    appraisements of Cowper that these later years have seen. It is\n    no mere perfunctory 'introduction' but a piece of sound\n    biographical work.... Dr. Frazer has given us two volumes that\n    are an unqualified joy.\"\n\n\n\nMacMillan and Co., Ltd., London.","title":"The Belief in Immortality and the Worship of the Dead, Volume 1 (of 3): The Belief Among the Aborigines of Australia, the Torres Straits Islands, New Guinea and Melanesia","tradition":"scripture-revelation","translated_text":null,"word_count":219009}