{"collection":"scripture-revelation","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_29893/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_29893","id":"gutenberg_29893","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/29893","summary":null,"tags":["Category: History - Religious","Category: Religion/Spirituality","Religions"],"text":"E-text prepared by Ron Swanson\n\n\n\nHISTORY OF RELIGION\n\nA Sketch of Primitive Religious Beliefs and Practices, and of the\nOrigin and Character of the Great Systems\n\nby\n\nALLAN MENZIES, D.D.\n\nProfessor of Biblical Criticism in the University of St. Andrews\n\n\nKnown unto God are all his works from the beginning of the\nworld.--ACTS xv. 18.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nNew York\nCharles Scribner's Sons\n597-599 Fifth Avenue\n1917\n\n\n\n\nFIRST EDITION . . . _April_ 1895\nSECOND EDITION  . . _September_ 1895\n_Reprinted_ . . . . _March_ 1897\n_Reprinted_ . . . . _June_ 1900\n_Reprinted_ . . . . _January_ 1902\n_Reprinted_ . . . . _March_ 1903\n_Reprinted_ . . . . _October_ 1905\nTHIRD EDITION . . . _January_ 1908\nFOURTH EDITION  . . _September_ 1911\n_Reprinted_ . . . . _June_ 1914\n_Reprinted_ . . . . _October_ 1918\n\n\n\n\nPREFACE\n\n\nThis book makes no pretence to be a guide to all the mythologies, or\nto all the religious practices which have prevailed in the world. It\nis intended to aid the student who desires to obtain a general idea\nof comparative religion, by exhibiting the subject as a connected and\norganic whole, and by indicating the leading points of view from\nwhich each of the great systems may best be understood. A certain\namount of discussion is employed in order to bring clearly before the\nreader the great motives and ideas by which the various religions are\ninspired, and the movements of thought which they present. And the\nattempt is made to exhibit the great manifestations of human piety in\ntheir genealogical connection. The writer has ventured to deal with\nthe religions of the Bible, each in its proper historical place, and\ntrusts that he has not by doing so rendered any disservice either to\nChristian faith or to the science of religion. It is obvious that in\na work claiming to be scientific, and appealing to men of every\nfaith, all religions must be treated impartially, and that the same\nmethod must be applied to each of them.\n\nIn a field of study, every part of which is being illuminated almost\nevery year by fresh discoveries, such a sketch as the present can be\nmerely tentative, and must soon, in many of its parts, grow\nantiquated and be superseded. And where so much depends on the\nselection of some facts out of many which might have been employed,\nit will no doubt appear to readers who have some acquaintance with\nthe subject, that here and there a better choice might have been\nmade. The writer hopes that the great difficulty will not be\noverlooked with which he has had to contend, of compressing a vast\nsubject into a compendious statement without allowing its life and\ninterest to evaporate in the process.\n\nFor a fuller bibliography than is given in this volume the reader may\nconsult the works of Dr. C. P. Tiele, and of Dr. Chantepie de la\nSaussaye. It will readily be believed that the writer of this volume\nhas been indebted to many an author whom he has not named.\n\nST. ANDREWS, 1895.\n\n\n\n\nPREFACE TO THE THIRD (REVISED) EDITION\n\n\nSince this book first appeared twelve years ago it has been several\ntimes reprinted without change. Advantage has now been taken,\nhowever, of a call for a fresh issue, to introduce into it some\nalterations and additions, such as its stereotyped form allows. Some\nmistakes have been corrected, the names of recent books have been\nadded to the bibliographies, and in some chapters, especially those\ndealing with the Semitic religions, considerable changes have been\nmade. In going over the book for this purpose, I have seen very\nclearly that if it had been called for and written at this time\ninstead of twelve years ago, some things which are in it need not\nhave appeared, and additions might have been made which are not now\npossible. The last twelve years have made a great change in the study\nof religions; the prejudices with which it was regarded have almost\npassed away, powerful forces have been enlisted in its service, and\nadmirable works have appeared dealing with various parts of the vast\nfield. Yet I am glad to think that the attempt made in this book to\nfurnish a simple introduction to a deeply important study, and\nespecially to promote the understanding of the religions of the Bible\nby placing them in their connection with the religion of mankind at\nlarge, may still prove useful.\n\nST. ANDREWS, _June_ 1907.\n\n\n\n\nPREFACE TO THE FOURTH EDITION\n\n\nThis book is now being reprinted in a somewhat larger type, and an\nopportunity is given, less restricted than the last, for making\nchanges in it. It is impossible for me at present to re-write it; it\nappears substantially as it was. Some alterations and additions have\nbeen made in the earlier chapters, and the bibliographies have been\nbrought more nearly up to date. I would take this opportunity of\ndirecting the attention of readers of this book to the published\nProceedings of the Oxford Congress of the History of Religion, held\nin September 1908. They will there see how large this field of study\nhas now grown, and what varied life and movement every part of it\ncontains. I have given references only to the addresses of the\nPresidents of the Sections of the Congress, in which a fresh review\nwill be found of recent progress in the study of each of the great\nreligions.\n\nST. ANDREWS, _July_ 1910.\n\n\n\n\nCONTENTS\n\n\nPART I\nTHE RELIGION OF THE EARLY WORLD\n\n\nCHAPTER I\nINTRODUCTION\n                                                                 PAGE\nPosition of the science--Unity of all religion--The growth of\nreligion continuous--Preliminary definition of religion--\nCriticism of other definitions--Fuller definition--Religion\nand civilisation advance together . . . . . . . . . . . . . .    1-18\n\n\nCHAPTER II\nTHE BEGINNING OF RELIGION\n\nOrigin of civilisation--It was from the savage state that\ncivilisation was by degrees produced--The religion of\nsavages--All savages have religion--It is a psychological\nnecessity . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .   19-28\n\n\nCHAPTER III\nTHE EARLIEST OBJECTS OF WORSHIP\n\nNature-worship--Ancestor-worship--Fetish-worship--A supreme\nbeing--Which gods were first worshipped?--Fetish-gods came\nfirst--Spirits, human or quasi-human, came first--Theories\nof Mr. Spencer and Mr. Tylor--Animism--The minor\nnature-worship came first--Theories of Mr. M. Mueller and of\nEd. von Hartmann--The great nature-powers came first--Both\nnature-worship and the worship of spirits are sources of\nearly religion--Conclusion  . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .   29-50\n\n\nCHAPTER IV\nEARLY DEVELOPMENTS--BELIEF\n\nGrowth of the great gods--Polytheism--Kathenotheism--The\nminor nature-worship--The worship of animals--Trees, wells,\nstones--The state after death--Growth of the great religions\nout of these beliefs  . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .   51-65\n\n\nCHAPTER V\nEARLY DEVELOPMENTS--PRACTICES\n\nSacrifice--Prayer--Sacred places, objects, persons--Magic--\nCharacter of early religion--Early religion and morality  . .   66-78\n\n\nCHAPTER VI\nNATIONAL RELIGION\n\nClassifications of religions--Rise of national religion--It\naffords a new social bond--And a better God--Example--The\nInca religion . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .   79-90\n\n\nPART II\nISOLATED NATIONAL RELIGIONS\n\n\nCHAPTER VII\nBABYLON AND ASSYRIA\n\nPeople and literature--Worship of spirits--Worship of\nanimals--The great Gods--Mythology--The state religion  . . .  91-105\n\n\nCHAPTER VIII\nCHINA\n\nHistory of China--The literature of the religion--The state\nreligion of ancient China--Heaven--The spirits--Ancestors--\nConfucius--His life--His doctrine--Taoism--Buddhism in China  106-125\n\n\nCHAPTER IX\nTHE RELIGION OF ANCIENT EGYPT\n\nHistory and literature--1. Animal worship--Theories\naccounting for it--2. The great Gods--They also are local--\nMythology--Dynasties of gods--Ra--Osiris--Ptah--Was the\nearliest religion monotheistic?--Syncretism--Pantheism--\nWorship--3. The doctrine of the other life--Treatment of the\ndead--The spirit in the under-world--_The Book of the Dead_--\nConclusion  . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 126-157\n\n\nPART III\nTHE SEMITIC GROUP\n\n\nCHAPTER X\nTHE SEMITIC RELIGION\n\nHome of the Semites--Character of the race--Their early\nreligious ideas--Difference between Semitic and Aryan\nreligion  . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 159-169\n\n\nCHAPTER XI\nCANAANITES AND PHENICIANS\n\nThe Religion of the Canaanites--The Phenicians--Their gods--\nAstral deities of Phenicia--Influence of Phenician art  . . . 170-178\n\n\nCHAPTER XII\nISRAEL\n\nThe sacred literature--The people--Jehovah--The early ritual\nwas simple--Contact with Canaanite religion--Danger of\nfusion--Religious conflict--The monarchy--Religion not\ncentralised--The Prophets--The old religion national--\nCriticism of the old religion by the prophets--Appearance of\nUniversalism--Ethical monotheism--Individualism of the\nprophetic teaching--The reforms--Deuteronomy--Earlier codes--\nThe exile--The return; the reform of Ezra--Character of the\nlater religion--Heathenish elements of Judaism--Spiritual\nelements--The Psalms--The Synagogue--The national hopes--The\nstate after death . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 179-216\n\n\nCHAPTER XIII\nISLAM\n\nArabia before Mahomet--The old religion--Confusion of\nworship--Allah--Judaism and Christianity in Arabia--Mahomet,\nearly life--His religious impressions--The revelations--His\npreaching--Persecution--Trials; decides to leave Mecca--\nMahomet at Medina--New religious union--Breach with Judaism\nand Christianity--Domestic--Conquest of Mecca--Mecca made the\ncapital of Islam--Spread of Islam--The duties of the Moslem--\nThe Koran--Islam a universal religion . . . . . . . . . . . . 217-242\n\n\nPART IV\nTHE ARYAN GROUP\n\n\nCHAPTER XIV\nTHE ARYAN RELIGION\n\nThe Aryans, their early home--Their civilisation described--\nLittle known of their gods--Their worship was domestic  . . . 243-255\n\n\nCHAPTER XV\nTHE TEUTONS\n\nThe Aryans in Europe--The ancient Germans--The early German\ngods--The working religion--Later German religion--Iceland--\nThe Eddas--The gods of the Eddas--The twilight of the gods  . 256-273\n\n\nCHAPTER XVI\nGREECE\n\nPeople and land--Earliest religion; functional deities--\nGrowth of Greek gods--Stones, animals, trees--Greek religion\nis local--Artistic tendency--Early Eastern influences--\nHomer--The Homeric gods--Worship in Homer--Omens--The state\nafter death--Hesiod--The poets and the working religion--Rise\nof religious art--Festivals and games--Zeus and Apollo--\nChange of the Greek spirit in sixth century B.C.--New\nreligious feeling; the mysteries--Religion and philosophy . . 274-304\n\n\nCHAPTER XVII\nTHE RELIGION OF ROME\n\nRoman religion was different from Greek--The earliest gods of\nRome are functional beings--The worship of these beings--The\ngreat gods--Sacred persons--Roman religion legal rather than\npriestly--Changes introduced from without--Etruria--Greek\ngods in Rome--The Graeco-Roman religion--Decay and confusion  305-323\n\n\nCHAPTER XVIII\nTHE RELIGIONS OF INDIA\n\nI. _The Vedic Religion_\n\nRelation of Indian to Aryan religion--The Rigveda--The Vedic\ngods--Hymns to the gods--To what stage does this religion\nbelong?--It is primitive--It is advanced--In spite of many\ngods, a tendency to Monotheism  . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 324-337\n\n\nCHAPTER XIX\nINDIA\n\nII. _Brahmanism_\n\nThe caste system: the Brahmans--The growth of the sacred\nliterature--Sacrifice--Practical life--Philosophy--\nTransmigration--Later developments  . . . . . . . . . . . . . 338-352\n\n\nCHAPTER XX\nINDIA\n\nIII. _Buddhism_\n\nThe literature--Was there a personal founder?--The story of\nthe founder--Is Buddhism a revolt against Brahmanism?--The\nBuddha--The doctrine--Buddhist morality--Nirvana--No gods--\nThe order--Buddhism made popular--Conclusion--Buddhism is not\na complete religion . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 353-380\n\n\nCHAPTER XXI\nPERSIA\n\nSources--The contents of the Zend-Avesta are composite--\nZoroaster--Primitive religion of Iran--The call of\nZarathustra--The doctrine--Its inconsistencies--Man is called\nto judge between the gods--This religion is essentially\nintolerant--Growth of Mazdeism--Organisation of the heavenly\nbeings--The attributes of Ahura--Ancient testimonies to the\nPersian religion--The Vendidad: laws of purity--How this\ndoctrine entered Mazdeism--Influence of Mazdeism on Judaism\nand in other directions . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 381-408\n\n\nPART V\nUNIVERSAL RELIGION\n\n\nCHAPTER XXII\nCHRISTIANITY\n\nState of Jewish religion at the Christian era--The teaching\nof Jesus--His person and work--Universalism of Christianity--\nThe Apostle Paul--What Christianity received from Judaism--\nAnd from the Greek world--The different religions of\nChristian nations and the common Christianity . . . . . . . . 409-425\n\n\nCHAPTER XXIII\nCONCLUSION\n\nTribal, national, and individual religion--This the central\ndevelopment--Has to be studied in nations--Periods of general\nadvance in religion--Conditions of religious progress . . . . 426-434\n\n\nINDEX . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 435-440\n\n\n\n\nPART I\nTHE RELIGION OF THE EARLY WORLD\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER I\nINTRODUCTION\n\n\nThe science to which this little volume is devoted is a comparatively\nnew one. It is scarcely half a century since the attention of Western\nEurope began to fix itself seriously on the great religions of the\nEast, and the study of these ancient systems aroused reflection on\nthe great facts that the world possesses not one religion only, but\nseveral, nay, many religions, and that these exhibit both great\ndifferences and great resemblances. The agitation of mind then\nawakened by the thought that other faiths might be compared with\nChristianity, has to a large extent passed away; and on the other\nhand fresh fields of knowledge have been opened to the student of the\nworships of mankind. By new methods of research the religions of\nGreece and Rome have come to be known as they never were before; and\nall the other religions of which we formerly knew anything have been\nled to tell their stories in a new way. A new study--that of the\nearliest human life on the earth--has brought to light many primitive\nbeliefs and practices, which seem to explain early religious ideas;\nand the accounts of missionaries and others about savage tribes now\nexisting in different parts of the world, are seen to be full of a\nsignificance which was not noticed formerly. We are thus in a very\ndifferent position from our fathers for studying the religion of the\nworld as a whole. To them their own religion was the true one and all\nthe others were false. Calvin speaks of the \"immense welter of\nerrors\" in which the whole world outside of Christianity is immersed;\nit is unnecessary for him to deal with these errors, he can at once\nproceed to set forth the true doctrine. The belief of the early\nfathers of the Church, that all worships but those of Judaism and\nChristianity were directed to demons, and that the demons bore sway\nin them, practically prevailed till our own day; and it could not but\ndo so, since no other religions than these were really known. That\nignorance has ceased, and we are responsible for forming a view of\nthe subject according to the light that has been given us.\n\nThe science of religion, though of such recent origin, has already\npassed beyond its earliest stage, as a reference even to its earlier\nand its later names will show. \"Comparative Religion\" was the title\ngiven at first to the combined study of various religions. What had\nto be done, it was thought, was to compare them. The facts about them\nhad to be collected, the systems arranged according to the best\ninformation procurable, and then laid side by side, that it might be\nseen what features they had in common and what each had to\ndistinguish it from the others. Work of this kind is still abundantly\nnecessary. The collection of materials and the specifying of the\nsimilarities and dissimilarities of the various faiths will long\noccupy many workers.\n\nUnity of all Religion.--But recent works on the religions of the\nworld regarded as a whole have been called \"histories.\" We have the\nwell-known _History of Religion_ of M. Chantepie de la Saussaye, now\nin its third edition, and the _Comparative History of the Religions\nof Antiquity_ of M. Tiele. A history of religion may be either of two\nthings. The word history may be used as in the term Natural History,\nto denote a reasoned account of this department of human life,\nwithout attempting any chronological sequence; or it may be used as\nwhen we speak of the History of the Romans, an attempt being made to\ntell the story of religion in the world in the order of time. In\neither case the use of the term \"history\" indicates that the study\nnow aims at something more than the accumulation of materials and the\npointing out of resemblances and analogies, namely, at arranging the\nmaterials at its command so as to show them in an organic connection.\nThis, it cannot be doubted, is the task which the science of religion\nis now called to attempt. What every one with any interest in the\nsubject is striving after, is a knowledge of the religions of the\nworld not as isolated systems which, though having many points of\nresemblance, may yet, for all we know, be of separate and independent\ngrowth, but as connected with each other and as forming parts of one\nwhole. Our science, in fact, is seeking to grasp the religions of the\nworld as manifestations of the religion of the world.[1]\n\n[Footnote 1: The above statement is criticised by Mr. L. H. Jordan in\nhis excellent work, _Comparative Religion_, p. 485, but is in the\nmain a true account of what has taken place. Mr. Jordan strongly\nholds that Comparative Religion is a science by itself, and ought to\nbe distinguished from the History of Religion, though the latter is,\nof course, its necessary foundation.]\n\nIn rising to this conception of its task, the science of religion is\nonly obeying the impulse which dominates every department of study in\nmodern times. What every science is doing is to seek to show the\nunity of law amid the multiplicity of the phenomena with which it has\nto deal, to gather up the many into one, or rather to show how the\none has given rise to the many. In the study of religion, if it be\nreally a science, this impulse of all science must surely be felt.\nHere also we must cherish the conviction that an order does exist\namid the apparent disorder, if we could but find it. We must believe\nthat the religious beliefs and practices of mankind are not a mere\nchaos, not a mere incessant outburst of unreason, consistent only in\nthat it has appeared in every age and every country of the world, but\nthat they form a cosmos, and may be known, if we take the right way,\nas a part of human life from which reason has never been absent, and\nin which a growing purpose has fulfilled and still fulfils itself.\nSome theories, it is true, from which the world formerly hoped much,\nare not now relied on, and the present tendency is to abstain from\nany general doctrine of the subject, and to be content with careful\ncollection and arrangement of the facts in special parts of the\nfield. Caution is no doubt most needful in the attempt to form a view\nof this great study as a whole. Yet something of this kind is\npossible, and is beyond all doubt much called for. It is the aim of\nthis little work not only to describe the leading features of the\ngreat religions, but also to set forth some of the results which\nappear to have been reached regarding the relation in which these\nsystems stand to each other.\n\nThe Growth of Religion Continuous.--We shall not pretend to set out\non this enterprise without any assumptions. The first and principal\nassumption we make is that in religion as in other departments of\nhuman life there has been a development from the beginning, even till\nnow, and that the growth of religion has gone on according to the\nordinary laws of human progress. This is a position which, begin the\nstudy at whatever point he may, the student of this subject will find\nhimself compelled to take up, if he is not to renounce altogether the\nidea of understanding it as a whole. To understand anything means, to\nthe thought of the present day, to know how it has come to be what it\nis; of any historical phenomenon at least it is certain that it\ncannot be understood except by tracing its history up to the root. We\nassume, therefore, until it be disproved, that in this as in other\ndepartments of human activity, growth has been continuous from the\nfirst. In every other branch of historical study, this assumption is\nmade. The history of institutions is traced back in a continuous line\nto an age before there was any family or any such thing as property.\nThe methods by which men have earned their subsistence on the earth\nare known equally far back; and there is no break in the development\nfrom the hooked stick to the steam plough. And should it not be the\nsame in religion? Here also shall we not assume, until we find it\nproved to be incorrect, that there has been no break in the growth of\nideas and practices from the earliest days till now, and that the\nhighest religion of the present day is organically connected with\nthat religion which man had at first? It is, indeed, in many ways far\nremoved from the earliest religion, but what was most essential in\nthe earliest belief still lives in it, and what was fittest to\nsurvive of its earliest motives, still prompts its worship. Should we\nadopt this view, we shall find many of the difficulties disappear\nwhich have frequently stood in the way of this study. When, according\nto the new tendency that seems to govern all modern thought,\ninstitutions and beliefs are regarded not as fixed things, but as\nthings growing from something that was there before, and tending\ntowards something that is coming, they cease to arouse contempt, or\njealousy, or hatred. If we can regard religions as stages in the\nevolution of religion, then we have no motive either to depreciate or\nunduly to extol any of them. The earlier stages of the development\nwill have a peculiar interest for us, just as we look with affection\non the home of our ancestors even though we should not choose to\ndwell there. We shall not divide religions into the true one,\nChristianity, and the false ones, all the rest; no religion will be\nto us a mere superstition, nor shall we regard any as unguided by\nGod. Feeling that we cannot understand our own religion aright\nwithout understanding those out of which it has been built up, we\nshall value these others for the part they have played in the great\nmovement, and our own most of all, without which they could not be\nmade perfect. In the light of this principle of growth we shall find\ngood in the lowest, and shall see that the good and true rather than\nthe evil and false, furnish the ultimate meaning of even the poorest\nsystems.\n\nWe start then with the assumption that religion is a thing which has\ndeveloped from the first, as law has, or as art has; and the best\nmethod we can follow, if it should prove practicable, will be to\nfollow its movement from the beginning. We must not presume to hope\nthat everything will be made clear, or that we shall meet with no\nreligious phenomena to which we cannot assign their place in the\ndevelopment. We must remember that ground is often lost as well as\nwon in human history, and that in religions as in nations\ndegeneration frequently occurs as well as progress. We must not be\ntoo sure that we shall be able to find any plain path leading through\nthe immeasurable forests of man's religious sentiments and practices.\nYet we may at least expect to find evidence of the direction which on\nthe whole the growth of religion has followed.\n\nPreliminary Definition of Religion.--But, before we can set out on\nthis inquiry, we are met by the question, What is it that we suppose\nto have been thus developed? In order to trace any process of\nevolution it is necessary to define that which is evolved; for it\nbelongs to the very idea of evolution that the identity of the\nsubject of it is not changed on the way up, but that the germ and the\nfinished product are the same entity, only differing from each other\nin that the one has still to grow while the other is grown. Futile\nwere it indeed to sketch a history of religion with the savage at one\nend of it and the Christian thinker at the other, if it could be said\nthat in no point did the religion of the savage and that of the\nChristian coincide, but that the product was a thing of entirely\ndifferent nature from the germ. It seems necessary, therefore, in the\nfirst place, to say what that is, of which we are to attempt the\nhistory; or in other words, to say what we mean by religion.\n\nIt must not be forgotten that an adequate definition of a thing which\nis growing can only be reached when the growth is complete. During\nits growth it is showing what it is, and its higher as well as its\nlower manifestations are part of its nature. The world has not yet\nfound out completely, but is still in the course of finding out, what\nreligion is. Any definition propounded at this stage must, therefore,\nbe of an elementary and provisional character. I propose then as a\nworking definition of religion in the meantime, that it is \"The\nworship of higher powers.\" This appears at first sight a very meagre\naccount of the matter; but if we consider what it implies, we shall\nfind it is not so meagre. In the first place it involves an element\nof belief. No one will worship higher powers unless he believes that\nsuch powers exist. This is the intellectual factor. Not that the\nintellectual is distinguished in early forms of religion from the\nother factors, any more than grammar is distinguished by early man as\nan element of language. But something intellectual, some creed, is\npresent implicitly even in the earliest worships. Should there be no\nbelief in higher powers, true worship cannot continue. If it be\ncontinued in outward act, it has lost reality to the mind of the\nworshipper, and the result is an apparent or a sham religion, a\nworship devoid of one of the essential conditions of religion. This\nis true at every stage. But in the second place, these powers which\nare worshipped are \"higher.\" Religion has respect, not to beings men\nregard as on a level with themselves or even beneath themselves, but\nto beings in some way above and beyond themselves, and whom they are\ndisposed to approach with reverence. When objects appear to be\nworshipped for which the worshipper feels contempt, and which a\nmoment afterwards he will maltreat or throw away, there also one of\nthe essential conditions is absent, and such worship must be judged\nto fall short of religion. There may no doubt be some religion in it;\nthe object he worships may appear to the savage, in whose mind there\nis little continuity, at one moment to be higher than himself and the\nnext moment to be lower; but the result of the whole is something\nless than religion. And in the third place these higher powers are\nworshipped. That is to say, religion is not only belief in the higher\npowers but it is a cultivating of relations with them, it is a\npractical activity continuously directed to these beings. It is not\nonly a thinking but also a doing; this also is essential to it. When\nworship is discontinued, religion ceases; a principle indeed not to\nbe applied too narrowly, since the apparent cessation of worship may\nbe merely its transition to another, possibly a higher form; but\nreligion is not present unless there be not only a belief in higher\npowers but an effort of one kind or another to keep on good terms\nwith them.\n\nCriticism of other Definitions.--What has now been said will enable\nus to judge of several of the definitions of religion which have been\nput before the world in recent years. Without going back to the\ndefinitions offered by philosophers who wrote before the scientific\nstudy of our subject had begun, and limiting ourselves to those which\nhave been propounded in the interests of our science, we notice that\nseveral make religion consist in an intellectual activity.[2] Thus\nMr. Max Mueller[3] says that \"Religion is a mental faculty or\ndisposition which independent of, nay, in spite of, sense and reason,\nenables man to apprehend the Infinite under different names, and\nunder varying disguises. Without that faculty ... no religion would\nbe possible.\" To this definition there are various strong objections.\nIt implies that there is only one way in which men come to believe in\nhigher beings; they arrive at that belief by finding something which\ntranscends them and which they cannot understand; _i.e._ by an\nintellectual process. It may be doubted whether the sense of\ndisappointment with the finite is the only road, or even a common\nroad, to belief in gods. Mr. Mueller's omission, moreover, from his\ndefinition, of the practical side of religion, of the element of\nworship, is a fatal objection to it. Belief and worship are\ninseparable sides of religion, which does not come fully into\nexistence till both are present. In a later work[4] Mr. Mueller admits\nthe force of this objection, urged by several scholars, to his\ndefinition, and modifies it as follows: \"Religion consists in the\nperception of the infinite under such manifestations as are able to\ninfluence the moral character of man.\" In this form the definition\nrecognises that worship, the practical activity in which man's moral\ncharacter shows itself in fear, gratitude, love, contrition, is an\nessential part of religion, and that perceptions of the infinite\napart from this are only one side of it. His original definition,\nhowever, has played too large a part in the history of our subject to\nbe left without careful notice. The same objection applies to Mr.\nHerbert Spencer's account of the matter. Mr. Spencer finds the basis\nof all religion in the inscrutableness of the Power which the\nuniverse manifests to us. The belief common to all religions, he\nholds, is the presence of something which passes comprehension. The\nidea of the absolute and unconditioned he regards as accompanying all\nour consciousness of things conditioned and limited, and as being not\na negative notion, not merely the denial of limits, but a positive\none. The unconditioned is that of which all our thoughts and ideas\nare manifestations, but which we never can know, with regard to which\nwe cannot affirm anything but that it exists. This definition like\nthat last noticed traces religion to the defects in man's knowledge,\nand rather to a negative than a positive element in his experience.\nIt also comes under the objection that it traces religion rather to\nan intellectual than a practical motive, and omits the element of\nworship.\n\n[Footnote 2: Though Mr. Tylor defines religion as the \"belief in\nspiritual beings,\" he is not to be charged with making it too much a\nmatter of the intellect. He uses the word belief in a wide sense as\nincluding the practices it involves. In the word \"spiritual,\"\nhowever, Mr. Tylor brings into the definition his theory of Animism,\nand thus makes it unserviceable for those who do not adopt that\ntheory.]\n\n[Footnote 3: _Introduction to the Science of Religion_, 1882, p. 13.\nThe definition was put forward in the year 1873, and in his lectures\non the Origin of Religion, 1882, Mr. Mueller adhered to it as being in\nthe main sound (p. 23).]\n\n[Footnote 4: _Natural Religion_, 1888, pp. 188, 193.]\n\nOther scholars have explained religion as the action of the curiosity\nof the human mind, of that impulse which prompts man to investigate\nthe causes of things, and specially to seek for the first cause of\nall things. Here we touch what is certainly to be recognised as an\ninvariable feature of religion; it always professes to explain the\nworld, and to bring unity to man's mind by clearing up the problems\nwhich perplex him, and affording him a commanding point of view, from\nwhich he may see all the parts of the world and of life fall into\ntheir places. This, however, does not tell us what religion itself\nis. This curiosity, this impulse to know, are not specifically\nreligious; they belong rather to philosophy. Other motives than those\nconnected with knowledge entered from the first into man's worship.\nCuriosity impelled him to seek the first cause of things; in religion\nhe saw something that promised to explain the world to him, and to\nexplain him to himself. But it was something more than curiosity that\nmade him regard that cause, when found, as a god, and pay it\nreverence and sacrifice. What is the motive of worship? Wonder, no\ndoubt, is always present in it, but what is there in it beyond\nwonder? No definition of religion can be regarded as complete in\nwhich the motive of worship is left undetermined. That is of the\nessence of the matter. There must be a moral as well as an\nintellectual quality which is characteristic of religion. What is\nreligion morally? Acts of worship may be specified in which every\nconceivable moral quality seeks to express itself. The most\ncontradictory motives, pride and anger and revenge, as well as fear\nor hunger or contrition, enter into such acts. But if religion is a\nmatter of sentiment as well as of outward posture, these acts of\nworship cannot all be equally entitled to the name, and something is\nwanted to complete our definition.\n\nFuller Definition.--Let us add what seems to be wanting; and say that\nreligion is the \"worship of higher powers from a sense of need\"! This\nwill remind the reader of Schleiermacher's definition--\"a sense of\ninfinite dependence.\" It was always objected to that definition, that\nit made religion no more than a sentiment, a mood, but that besides\nthis, it is both belief and action. But the truth Schleiermacher\nurged was one of essential importance to the matter. Belief in gods\nand acts of worship paid to them do not constitute religion unless\nthe sentiment, the sense of need, be also there. These three\ntogether, feeling, belief, and will expressing itself in action,\nconstitute religion both in the lowest and in the highest levels of\ncivilisation.\n\nA belief must exist, to take a step farther, that the being\nworshipped is capable of supplying what the worshipper requires. Men\ndo not pray nor bring offerings to beings they suppose to be\nincapable of attending to them, or powerless to do them any good or\nevil. It is implied in every act of worship that the being addressed\nis a power who is able to do for the worshipper what he cannot do for\nhimself. It is his inability to help himself or to supply his own\nneeds that sends the worshipper to his god, who has a power he\nhimself has not. If he could help himself he would not need religion,\nif his life were either perfectly prosperous and even, so that there\nwas nothing left to wish for, or perfectly miserable and\nunsuccessful, so that there was no room for hope, he would not resort\nto higher powers; but neither of these two being the case, his life\non the contrary being a mixed lot of good and evil, in which there\nare blessings his own forces cannot secure, and dangers from which no\nefforts of his own can save him, and the belief having arisen within\nhim, in what way we need not now inquire, that higher powers exist\nwho can, if they will, defend and prosper him, in this way he has\nreligion, he keeps up intercourse with higher powers. And thus\nreligion is not necessarily, even in its most primitive form, a\nmanifestation of mere selfishness. Though gifts are offered which are\nexpected to please the higher beings, and though benefits are asked\nof which the worshipper is urgently in need, such transactions are\nnot necessarily sordid any more than similar applications between\nhuman beings, between two friends, or between a parent and a child.\nEven the savage living in entire isolation, at war with every one and\nconscious of no needs but those of food and shelter, will not seek\nbenefits from his god without some feeling of attachment, nor without\nsome sense of strengthened friendship should the benefit be granted\nhim. When once this sense of friendship has arisen, religion is\npresent, the man has come to be in living relation with a higher\npower, whom he conceives, no doubt, after his own likeness, but\nnevertheless as greater than he is.\n\nThis then is what we conceive to be the essence of religion--the\nworship of higher powers, from a sense of need; and it is of this\nthat we are to trace the history though only in the barest outlines.\nThe definition itself suggests in what way the development may be\nexpected to work itself out. According as the needs change their\ncharacter, of which men are conscious, so will their religion also\nchange. The gradual elevation and refinement of human needs, in the\ngrowth of civilisation, is the motive force of the development of\nreligion. The deities themselves, their past history and their\npresent character, the sacrifices offered to them, and the benefits\naimed at in intercourse with them, all must grow up as man himself\ngrows, from rudeness to refinement and from caprice to order. At its\nlowest, religion is perhaps an individual affair between the savage\nand his god, and has to do with material individual needs. At a\nhigher stage (not always nor even commonly later in time) it is the\naffair of a family, of a tribe, or of a combination of tribes, and\nwith each of these extensions the requests grow broader and less\npersonal which have to be presented to the deity; the religion\nbecomes a common worship for public ends. The needs of the nomad are\nother than those of the settled agriculturist, and those of the\ncountryman differ from those of the citizen, and those of the\nLaplander from those of the Negro, and these differences will be\nreflected in the aspect of the deities and in the observances\ncelebrated in their honour. When art begins to stir within a nation,\nthe gods have to adapt themselves to the new taste. As society grows\nmore humane, cruel and sanguinary religious observances, though they\nmay long keep a hold of the ignorant and excitable, lose their\nsupport in the public conscience and are sentenced to change or to\nextinction. And when a new consciousness of personal human dignity\nsprings up, and men come to feel the infinite value and the infinite\nresponsibility of personal life, the old public religion is felt to\nbe cold and distant, and religious services of a more personal and\nmore intimate kind are sought for.\n\nThus religion and civilisation advance together; according as the\ncivilisation is in any people, so is its religion. It is vain,\nbroadly speaking, to look for the combination of primitive manners\nand customs with a lofty spiritual faith. The converse it is true may\noften seem to take place. Religion, or rather religious creeds and\npractices, often seem to lag behind civilisation and to maintain\nthemselves long after the reason and the conscience of a people has\ncondemned them. That is because religion is what man values most in\nhis life, and he is loath to change observances in which his\naffections are powerfully engaged. But religion must reflect the\nideals of the society in which it exists; the needs which the society\nfeels at the time must be the burden of its prayers; its sacrifices\nmust be such as the general sentiment allows; its gods, to retain the\nallegiance of the community, must alter with time and prove\nthemselves alive and in touch with their people. And if it be the\ncase that civilisation has on the whole advanced upwards from the\nfirst; if, as Mr. Tylor assures us,[5] man began with his lowest and\nhas, in spite of occasional declines, on the whole been improving\never since, then of religion also the same will be true. It also will\nbe found to begin with its rudest forms and gradually to grow better.\nReligion in fact is the inner side of civilisation, and expresses the\nessential spirit of human life in various ages and nations. The\nreligion of a race is the truest expression of its character, and\nreflects most faithfully its attitude and aims and policy. The\nreligion of an age shows what at that time constituted the object of\nman's aspiration and endeavour, as older hopes grew pale and new\nhopes rose on his sight. Thus the study of the religions of the world\nis the study of the very soul of its history; it is the study of the\ndesires and aspirations which throughout the course of history men\nhave not been ashamed, nay, which they have been proud and determined\nto confess. No more fascinating study could possibly engage us. It is\ntrue that the requirements for the adequate treatment of the subject\nare such as few indeed can hope to possess. He who would treat the\nhistory of religion aright ought to know thoroughly the whole of the\nhistory of civilisation; he should have explored the vast domain of\nsavage life and thought that has recently been opened up to us, and\nhe should be at home in every century of every nation from the\nbeginning of history. At a time like this, when new light is being\npoured every year on every part of our subject, no statement of it\ncan be more than tentative and partial. The student will be directed\nat each step to sources of fuller information.\n\n[Footnote 5: _Primitive Culture_, chap. ii.]\n\n\nBOOKS RECOMMENDED (GENERAL)\n\n_Outlines of the History of Religion to the Spread of the Universal\nReligions_. By Dr. C. P. Tiele. Translation. In Truebner's Oriental\nSeries. Very condensed and in somewhat technical language; but the\nwork of one of the greatest masters of the subject. A full\nBibliography is appended to the various chapters.\n\n_Lehrbuch der Religionsgeschichte_, von P. D. Chantepie de la\nSaussaye. Freiburg, 1887. The English translation has an altered\ntitle, viz. _Manual of the Science of Religion_, Longmans, 1891. The\nThird Edition (1905) is practically a different book, and consists of\nstudies, each by an expert, of the various religions.\n\n_Religious Systems of the World_ (Sonnenschein, 1892) is a full\ncollection of descriptions of the various religions, by persons\nspecially acquainted with them; of very unequal merit.\n\nMr. Max Mueller's works cited above, also his more recent volumes of\nGifford Lectures, contain a number of general discussions.\n\nSee also the Gifford Lectures of the late Mr. Ed. Caird, and the late\nProf. Tiele.\n\nPfleiderer's _Philosophy of Religion_, 4 vols.\n\nPuenjer, _Geschichte der christl. Religionsphilosophie_, 2 vols.\n1880-83.\n\nRauwenhoff, _Wijsbegeerde van den Godsdienst_, 2 vols. 1887 (also in\nGerman).\n\nM. Jastrow, _The Study of Religion_, 1901.\n\nL. H. Jordan, _Comparative Religion, its Origin and Growth_, 1905.\n\n_Revue de l'histoire des religions_, edited by M. J. Reville.\n\n_Archiv fuer Religionswissenschaft_, edited by Alb. Dieterich.\n\nReinach, Orpheus, _Histoire Generale des Religions_, 1909.\n\nHastings, _Encyclopedia of Religion and Ethics_, vol. i. A-Art, 1908.\n\n_The New Schaff-Heizog Encyclopedia of Religious Knowledge_ has\nexcellent articles on the various religions.\n\nLouis H. Jordan, _Comparative Religion_, 1905. An account of the\nprogress of our study, with extensive bibliography.\n\nGalloway, _The Principles of Religious Development_, a psychological\nand philosophical study, 1909.\n\n_Proceedings of the Oxford International Congress of the History of\nReligions_, 1908. 2 vols. The addresses of the Presidents of the\nSections give a record of the most recent progress in every part of\nour study. Of these see, for this chapter, Count Goblet d'Alviella,\nvol. ii. pp. 365 _sqq_. on the Method and Scope of the History of\nReligion.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER II\nTHE BEGINNING OF RELIGION\n\n\nOrigin of Civilisation.--Every inhabited country, we are assured by\nethnologists, was once peopled by savages; the stone age everywhere\ncame before the age of metals. Antecedent to every civilisation that\nhas sprung up on the earth is this dim period, the period of the cave\ndwellers and afterwards of the lake dwellers. There can be no\nchronology nor any exact knowledge of these early men who lived by\nhunting, with stone weapons, animals which are now extinct. How from\nhis earliest and most helpless state man came in various ways to help\nhimself; how he discovered fire, how he improved his weapons and\ninvented tools, how he learned to tame certain of the animals on\nwhich he had formerly made war, and instead of wandering about the\nworld came to settle in one place and till the soil, and how family\nlife came to be instituted, and the father as well as the mother to\nact as guardian to the children; all that is a vast history, which\nmust be read in its own place. Immense, indeed, were the labours\nearly man had to undergo, in wrestling his way up from a life like\nthat of the brutes to a life in which his own distinctive nature\ncould begin to display itself.\n\nIt was from the savage state that civilisation was by degrees\nproduced. The theory that man was originally civilised and humane,\nand that it was by a fall, by a degeneration from that earliest\ncondition, that the state of savagery made its appearance, is now\ngenerally abandoned. There may be instances of such degeneration\nhaving taken place; but on the whole, the conviction now obtains that\ncivilisation is the result of progressive development, and was the\nresult man conquered for himself by his age-long struggles with his\nenvironment. That development did not take place in all lands alike.\nIn some it proceeded faster than in others, and its advances were due\noftener to propagation from without, than to unaided growth from\nwithin; as one race came in contact with another new ideas were\naroused of the possibilities of life in various directions. In some\nlands the development has scarcely taken place at all. There remain\nto this day races who are judged to be still in the primitive\ncondition. Not all savage tribes are thought to be in that condition.\nThe bushmen of Australia, the Andaman Islanders, and others,[1] are\nfound to be in such a state in point of habits and acquirements that\nthey must be considered as races which have fallen from a higher\nposition, and present instances of degeneration. But a multitude of\nsavage tribes remain in all quarters of the globe who do not appear\nto have been thus enfeebled, and who are held to be still in that\nstate in which the dwellers in all parts of the earth were before\nwhat we now call civilisation began. They are races among whom\ncivilisation did not spring up, as it did in China or in Peru. From\nthese races we may learn in a general way, though in this great\ncaution is required, what the ancestors of all the civilised nations\nwere. It confirms this conclusion that we find in every civilised\nnation a number of phenomena, practices, beliefs, stories, which the\nmental condition of the nation as we know it does not account for,\nwhich manifestly are not outgrowths of the civilisation, but relics\nof an older state of life, which civilisation has not entirely\nobliterated; and that these practices, beliefs, and stories can be\nexactly matched by those of the savage races. The inference is drawn\nthat civilisation has sprung from savage life, that, as Mr. Tylor\nsays, \"the savage state represents the early condition of mankind,\nout of which the higher culture has gradually been developed by\ncauses still in operation.\" To trace the history of civilisation,\ntherefore, it is necessary to go back to the earliest knowledge we\nhave of human life upon the earth, and to ask what germs and\nrudiments can be discovered among savages of law, of institutions, of\narts and sciences. Such works as Maine's _Ancient Law_, Tylor's\n_Primitive Culture_, Lubbock's _Origin of Civilisation_, show how\nfruitful this method is, and what floods of light it pours on the\nhistory of society.\n\n[Footnote 1: Instances in Tylor, _Primitive Culture_, chap. ii.,\nwhere the theory of degeneration is fully discussed.]\n\nNow what is true of civilisation generally will be true also of\nreligion, which is one of its principal elements. If every country\nwas once inhabited by savages, then the original religion of every\ncountry must have been a religion of savages; and in the later\nreligion there will be features which have been carried on from the\nearlier one. This, indeed, we must in any case expect to find. No new\nreligion can enter on its career on a soil quite unprepared, on which\nno gods have been worshipped before. (That would imply that there had\nbeen races in the world without religion, on which we shall speak\npresently.) A new faith has always to begin by adjusting itself to\nthat which it found in possession of the soil, and it always adopts\nwhat it can of the old system. We should expect then that the great\nreligions of the world should exhibit features which do not belong to\ntheir own structure, but which they inherited, with or against their\nwill, from their uncivilised predecessors. And that is the case, as\nwe shall see afterwards, with all the great religions. They are all\nfull of survivals of the savage state. The old religious associations\ncling to the face of a land and refuse to be uprooted, whatever\nchanges take place among the gods above. Superstitious practices\ncontinue among a race long after a truth has been preached there with\nwhich they are entirely inconsistent. Stories are long told about the\ngods, quite out of keeping with their character in the theology of\nthe new faith, pointing to a time when not so much was expected of a\ngod. In Mr. Lang's _Myth, Ritual, and Religion_, the reader will find\nan admirable collection of material showing how the popular elements\nof an old religion survive in a new one in which they are quite out\nof place. There is none of the great religions to which this does not\napply.\n\nNow, if it be the case that each of the great religions has been\nbuilt upon a primitive religion formerly occupying the same ground,\nit might appear that we must, in order to understand any of the great\nreligions, study first, in each case, the savage system which it\nsuperseded. It would be a serious prospect for the student if he had\nto make a separate study of a set of savage beliefs as an approach to\neach of the ten or twelve great religions. But this, as we shall see\nafterwards, is not the case. There is a great family likeness in the\nreligions of savages, and we may even allow ourselves to speak not of\nthe religions but of the religion of early races. In the next chapter\nan attempt will be made to describe that religion; but we may say\nhere that there are some features which are generally, though by no\nmeans always found in it, and that these features may be regarded for\npractical purposes as the religion of the primitive world, which\neverywhere was the forerunner of the great systems. This is the\njungle, as it were, overspreading all the early world, out of which\nlike giant trees the great religions arose, and from which they\nderived and still derive a nourishment they cannot disown. Indeed, we\nmay go much farther. In some of their leading doctrines, the great\nreligions show the most striking affinity with one another. China and\nEgypt have some doctrines in common which are also found in the\nreligion of the Incas; the Aryan and the Semitic religions know them\ntoo. Should these doctrines be found in the religion of savages, it\nwill at least be a question whether the great religions all alike\nborrowed and developed them from that source, or whether any other\nexplanation of the case can be found. Evidently we cannot make any\nprogress with our subject till we have taken a general view of this\nreligion of savages and come to some conclusions regarding it.\n\nA few words must be said, by way of preface to this subject, on the\nmental habits of early races. We cannot hope to understand the\nthoughts of those people without knowing how they came to have such\nthoughts, how they were accustomed to think. Now of the savage we may\nsay that he is just like a child who has not yet learned to think\ncorrectly, or to know things truly. He is making all kinds of\nexperiments in thought, and being led into all sorts of errors and\nconfusion; and if the child takes years, the savage may take\nmillenniums, to get free from these. He does not know the difference\nbetween one thing and another, between himself and the lower animals,\nor between an animal and a water-spout. He does not know how far\nthings are away from him, nor what makes them move and act as they\ndo; why, for example, the sun and moon go round the sky, or why the\nwind blows. He cannot tell why things have this or that peculiar\nappearance; why, for example, the rabbit has no tail, why the sky is\nred in the morning, why some stones are like men. And he wants to\nknow all these things, and is for ever asking questions. But almost\nany answer will do for him, the first explanation that turns up is\naccepted; and while a child finds out pretty soon if he has been told\nwrong, the savage is so ignorant that he cannot see the absurdest\nexplanation to be false, but sticks to it seriously and goes on using\nit. There is no consistency in the contents of his mind, and\ninconsistency does not distress him. He has no classes and orders of\nthings, but considers each thing by itself as it occurs, without\nputting it in its place with reference to other things. He has no\nidea of what is possible and what is impossible; these words in fact\nwould have no meaning for him, since he is not aware of any laws by\nwhich events are governed. His imagination, accordingly, is not under\nany restraint; he hits upon all kinds of grotesque theories, and,\nhaving no critical faculty to test them, he repeats them and\nseriously believes them. The stories of the nursery, in which there\nare no impossibilities, in which a man may visit the sun and the\nwinds in their homes and find them at their broth, in which the\nbeasts can speak, in which the witch or the fairy knows at any\ndistance what is going on and can turn up just at the nick of time,\nin which ghosts walk, in which anything can be changed into anything,\na hero going through half a dozen transformations to escape from so\nmany dangers,--these are to the savage not incredible nor foolish\ntales, to him they are very real, and very serious matters. He lives,\nin fact, we are told by the authorities on the subject, in the\nmyth-making period of the world; in the period when such incidents as\noccur in the tales of fairyland and in the stories of mythology are\nmatter of common belief, and even, it is thought, of common\nexperience, so that when the story is put in a good form, it lives\nand is believed as a true record of what has actually taken place.\n\nOn one feature of the savage imagination in particular we must fix\nour attention. The savage regards all things as animated,--as\nanimated with a life like his own. Of his own life he has no very\nexalted idea; he has no notion how different he really is from\nanything around him; as he is himself, so he supposes other beings to\nbe also, not only the animals but the trees and all that moves and\neven what does not move, even rocks and stones. He is living himself;\nhe regards all these as living too. He imagines them like himself,\nand supposes them to have feelings and passions like his own, to\nreason as he does, and even if he is told they speak as he does, that\nis not incredible to him. Thus he lives in a world of infinite\nconfusion, in which there are no laws, no classes of beings, no means\nof knowing what may happen, or of verifying any statement, where\nevery effort of fancy may be believed. The mental world of savages\nhas been compared to the ravings of a whole world turned lunatic. We\nsurvey it, however, without horror, because we know that reason is\nnot unseated there, but striving towards her kingdom. That is the\nexperience that had to be gone through, these are part of the\nexperiments, such as every child has still to make, by which the\nknowledge of the world is gradually arrived at.\n\nAmid this apparent universal confusion a certain consistency of view\nis to be observed. It might be expected that the savage habit of\nthought, acting independently in different parts of the world, would\nlead to an infinite number of divergent and inconsistent views of the\nnature of things and of man's place in the world. But this is not\nfound to be the case. Mr. Lang accounts as follows for the diffusion\nof the same stories all over the world: \"An ancient identity of\nmental status, and the working of similar mental forces at the\nattempt to explain the same phenomena, will account without any\ntheory of borrowing, or of transmission of myth, or of original unity\nof race, for the world-wide diffusion of many mythical conceptions.\"\nMr. Tylor says that the same imaginative processes regularly recur,\nthat world-wide myths show the regularity and the consistency of the\nhuman imagination. M. Reville, in his _Religions des peuples\nnon-civilises_, remarks that the character of savage religions is\neverywhere the same; that only the forms vary.\n\nNow of the things that all savages possess, certainly religion is\none. It is practically agreed that religion, the belief in and\nworship of gods, is universal at the savage stage; and the accounts\nwhich some travellers have given of tribes without religion are\neither set down to misunderstanding, or are thought to be\ninsufficient to invalidate the assertion that religion is a universal\nfeature of savage life.\n\nHow did it get there? How comes it that men so near the lowest human\nstate, so devoid of all that has been since acquired, should yet be\nfound to have this mode of thought universally diffused among them?\n\nIt has been ascribed to a primitive revelation. At the beginning, it\nis said, God, with the other gifts He gave to man, gave him religion;\nthat is to say, gave him not only a disposition for reverence and\npiety, but a certain amount of religious knowledge, so that he set\nout with a stock of religious ideas which were not elaborated by his\nown efforts, but bestowed on him ready made. It is impossible,\nhowever, to conceive how this could be done. If the religion given at\nfirst was a lofty and pure one,--and no other need be thought of in\nsuch a connection,--then it implies a condition of human life far\nabove the struggles and uncertainties of savage existence; and both\nthe civilisation and the religion must have been lost afterwards. But\nhow could all mankind forget a pure religion? Mankind in that case\ncannot have been fit for the possession of it; it was given\nprematurely. No. The history of early civilisation is the history of\na struggle in which man has everything to conquer, and in which he is\nnot remembering something he had lost, but advancing by new routes to\na land he never reached before. And if civilisation was won for the\nfirst time, so was religion.\n\nWe may also put aside the theory that man had religion from the first\nas an innate idea, that he found information all ready and prepared\nin his mind of what it was proper to do in this direction, and how it\nwas to be done. There was indeed a suggestion from within; but it was\ndue not to any special faculty lying outside the essential structure\nof human nature, but to the constitution of the human mind itself. We\ncannot go into the philosophical question of the basis of religion in\nthe human mind.[2] It would seem to be a psychological necessity. At\nall stages of his existence the world of which man is aware outside\nhim, and the world of feelings and desires within him are in\nconflict. But the conviction lives within him that in some way they\ncan be brought into harmony, and that a power exists which rules in\nboth of these discordant realms and in which, if he can identify\nhimself with it, he also will escape from their discord. If this be\nso, then this necessity to seek after a higher power must have begun\nto operate as soon as human consciousness appeared. The savage\ncertainly was never unacquainted with the discrepancy between what he\nwanted and what the world would give him, between the inner man so\nfull of desires and plans, and that outward nature which denied him\nhis desires and thwarted his plans, and before which he felt so\nfeeble and insecure. He also could not but be driven, if his life was\nto go on at all on any tolerable basis, to believe in something that\nhad to do both with the world outside him and with the world of his\nheart, in a being which both had sympathy with his desires and power\nto give effect to them outwardly.\n\n[Footnote 2: See on this subject Prof. Edward Caird's Gifford\nLectures, _The Evolution of Religion_, 1893. Galloway, _The\nPrinciples of Religious Development_.]\n\nThe whole of the early world did entertain such a belief. This is the\nfirst and the most important instance of uniformity of thought at a\nstage through which every nation once passed; all men at that stage\nbelieve in gods. We will not refuse the name of religion to this side\nof savage life, even should the needs be low and material which send\nthe savage to his god, though his god be a being who in us would\nexcite the very opposite of reverence, and though his treatment of\nhis god be far from what to us seems worthy, or even though he strove\nto appease a multitude of spirits which he conceived as flitting\nabout him, before he came to form a settled relation of confidence\nwith one being whom he took for his own god. Where the sense of need\nhas sent a human being to hold intercourse with a higher power, there\nwe hold religion is making its appearance. And if this is universally\nthe case among men at the savage stage, then religion is universal\namong the ancestors of all nations; it did not need to be invented\nwhen kings and priests appeared and wanted it as an instrument for\ntheir own purposes; it was there before there were any kings or\npriests, and is an inheritance which has come down to all mankind\nfrom the time when human intelligence first turned to the effort to\nunderstand the world.\n\n\nBOOKS RECOMMENDED\n\n_For this and the three following chapters_\n\nJ. B. Tylor, _Anthropology_, Third Edition, 1891.\n\nJ. B. Tylor, _Primitive Culture_, Fourth Edition, 1903.\n\nFrazer, _The Golden Bough_, Third Edition, 1900. A new edition is now\nappearing in parts.\n\nA. Lang, _Myth, Ritual, and Religion_, new edition, 1899.\n\nTh. Achelis, in De la Saussaye.\n\nWaitz und Gerland, _Anthropologie der Naturvoelker_, 1859-72.\n\nBrinton, _Religions of Primitive Peoples_, 1897.\n\nThe reports of travellers and missionaries are, of course, important.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER III\nTHE EARLIEST OBJECTS OF WORSHIP\n\n\nWe must now make some attempt to set forth the principal features of\nthe religion of savages. It is an attempt of some difficulty; for\nsavage religion is an immense and bewildering jungle of all manner of\nextraordinary growths. It is described in detail in large books and\nif we try to sum it up in a short statement, we may be told that\nessential features have been omitted. No one set of savages has\nanything that can be called a system, and different sets of savages\nare not alike. For the present purpose we are obliged to include\nunder the name, tribes who occupy various positions in the scale of\nhuman advancement, and tribes in all sorts of geographical positions,\nin hot climates and in cold, both rude savages and those who are\nnobler; and these will, of course, have a variety of ideas and needs,\nand in so far, different religions. After reading such a book as Mr.\nFrazer's _Golden Bough_, or turning over the pages of Waitz and\nGerland's _Anthropologie der Naturvoelker_, one is inclined to regard\nit as a hopeless task to reduce savage religion to any compact\nstatement.\n\nMr. Tylor's orderly collections, in his great book _Primitive\nCulture_, of materials bearing on different features of early\nreligion are a help for which the student cannot be sufficiently\nthankful. After all, it is not the whole of savage religion that we\nare responsible for here, but only those parts of it that grew and\nsurvived in higher faiths. Remembering what has been said as to the\nuniformity of savage thought amid its great variety of forms, and\nlooking for those parts of it which have proved to have life in them,\nrather than for what is merely curious and grotesque, we may venture\non our task not without hope. In the present chapter we shall inquire\nwhat beings savages worship as gods. Of these we shall find that\nthere are several classes; and it will be necessary to notice the\ngreat discussions which have arisen on the question which of these\nclasses of deities was first worshipped by man. The objects\nworshipped by men in low stages of civilisation may be arranged in\nfour classes, viz.--\n\n  1. Parts of nature (_a_) great, (_b_) small.\n  2. Spirits of ancestors and other spirits.\n  3. Objects supposed to be haunted by spirits (fetish-worship).\n  4. A Supreme Being.\n\n1. Nature-worship.--It is not difficult to realise why early man\nturned to the great elements of nature as beings who could help him,\nand whom he ought, therefore, to cultivate. The farther we go back in\ncivilisation, the less protection has man against the weather, the\nmore do his subsistence and his comfort depend on the action of the\nsun, the winds, the rain. If, according to the habits of early\nthought, he conceived these beings as living like himself and as\nguided by feelings and motives similar to his own, he could not fail\nto wish to open up communication with them. That simple view, that\nthey were living beings with feelings like his own, was enough to go\nupon. In his anxieties for food or warmth he could not fail to think\nof the beings who, he had observed, had power to supply him with\nthese comforts, of the rain which he had noticed was able to make\nfood grow, of the sun whose warmth he knew. The thunderstorm was a\nbeing who had power to put an end to a long drought; the winds could\nbreak the trees, could dry up the wet earth, or could bring rain.\nHeaven was over all, and the Earth was the supporter and fertile\nproducer of all; from her all life came. The moon as well as the sun\nwas a friendly power, nay, in some climates, more friendly. Fire was\na living being certainly, on whom much depended; and so was the great\nlake or the ocean. This is what M. Reville calls the great\nNature-worship, in comparison with the minor Nature-worship to be\nnoticed presently.\n\nWe do not now enter on the subject of mythology; that is to say, of\nthe names men very early began to give to the great natural objects\nof worship, the characters they ascribed to them, the stories they\ntold about them. That process of myth-making began very early, and is\nto be found at work in every part of the world. But at first it was\nsimply the natural being itself, conceived as living, that was\nworshipped, not a spirit or a person thought to dwell in it. Of this,\nabundant evidence has survived in the great religions. Jupiter is\njust the sky, the Greek god Helios is just the sun, and the goddess\nSelene the moon. In China heaven itself is worshipped to this day.\nThe Babylonians worshipped the stars. The Vedic gods are primarily\nthe elements. From savage life examples of this earliest state of\nmatters can also be quoted, though mythology has nearly everywhere\ngreatly confused it. The Mincopies adore the sun as a beneficent\ndeity, the moon as an inferior god. To the Natchez the sun is the\nsupreme god; with some tribes of North America the chief god is\nheaven blowing, the sky with a wind in it, what Longfellow calls the\n\"Great Spirit\" or blowing. The Incas invoked together the Creator and\nthe Sun and Thunder. Thunder was one of the great gods of the\nGermans. The Samoyede bows to the Sun every morning and every evening\nand says. \"When thou arisest I also arise; when thou settest I also\nbetake myself to rest.\" To the Ojibways Fire is a divine being, to be\nwell entertained, with whom no liberties must be taken. In every land\nmen are to be found who worship the Earth as a great deity, calling\nher by her own name and serving her with suitable rites. In the\n_Prometheus_ of Aeschylus the hero addresses his appeal as follows to\nthe beings he regards as gods of old race who will sympathise with\nhim against the upstart Zeus:--\n\n  Ether of Heaven and Winds untired of wing,\n  Rivers whose fountains fail not, and thou Sea,\n  Laughing in waves innumerable! O Earth,\n  All-mother!--Yea and on the Sun I call,\n  Whose orb scans all things; look on me and see\n  How I, a god, am wronged by gods.\n                       _Lewis Campbell_, line 85 _sq_.\n\nThe minor Nature-worship has to do with rivers and springs, with\ntrees and groves, with crops and fruits, with rocks and stones, and\nwith the lower animals. Here also we must bear in mind the habit of\nmind of early man, who regarded all things as animated and as like\nhimself. It was not necessary for one who thought in this way to\nsuppose that the spring was haunted by a nymph or the oak inhabited\nby a dryad, before he felt that the spring or the oak had a claim on\nhim, and brought offerings to secure their friendship. The Nile and\nthe Ganges did not become sacred by having a mythical being added to\nthem as their spirit; they were themselves sacred beings. Every\ncountry is studded with names which reveal to the scholar the\nprimeval sanctity of the spots they belong to; the mountain, the\ngrove, and the individual tree, the rocky gorge, the rock, the grassy\nknoll, each was once an object of reverence. Britain is full of\nsacred wells, which once received prayers and offerings. There is no\nanimal that has not once been worshipped. A marked feature of\nprimitive life also is the worship of nature not in its particular\nobjects but in its living processes. In a multitude of curious rites,\nsome of which still survive in local usages, and have only recently\nbeen explained, primitive man brought himself into relations with\nnature in its growth, decay, and resurrection. He sympathised with it\nand imitated it, and he thus sought to make himself sure of the\nbenefits which he saw bestowed by some power which he apprehended in\nits processes and believed able to further him.\n\n2. Ancestor-worship.--A set of beings of a very different kind comes\nnext. If man found in the world which he beheld outside him a number\nof objects he could make gods, his domestic experience forced him to\nconsider certain beings of a different kind, of whom the outward\nworld could tell him nothing. The worship of the dead, of ancestors,\nis diffused throughout nearly the whole of antiquity, it is practised\nby most savages. Man at an early stage does not fully realise the\nmeaning of death. He interprets death after the analogy of dreams, in\nwhich he judges that the spirit leaves the body and traverses distant\nregions, coming back to the body again when the journey is ended. A\nvision is to him an instance of the same thing. He sees a friend,\nwho, he afterwards learns, was far from him at the time, and he\njudges that it was the spirit of his friend which visited him. Thus\nthere arises in his mind the conception of a human spirit which is\nable to leave the body and dwell at a distance from it. It is called\nby various names,--the shade, the image, the heart, as perhaps when\nElisha says his heart went with Gehazi when he went to meet Naaman\nthe Syrian (2 Kings v. 26), the breath, the soul. When the breath or\nspirit goes away and stays away (in spite of efforts made to bring it\nback) the man dies. But the spirit is not dead. It has gone away and\nis staying somewhere else. The spirit resembles the body in shape,\nbut it is of a thin and light consistence, and is able to move about\nand to pass through the smallest openings, to make unpleasant noises,\nand to cause its presence to be felt in a variety of ways. In the\nvery earliest times, the savage regards the spirit which has left the\nhouse as an enemy, and uses a variety of precautions to keep it from\ncoming back to trouble him (vampires, ghosts, _lemures_). Whether\nfrom such fear or from more liberal motives, much is done to please\nthe spirits of the departed and to increase their comfort in the\nabodes to which they have gone. At their burial or cremation all they\nmay be supposed to want where they are going, _i.e._ the things they\nused on earth, are made to accompany them; food and weapons are\nplaced beside them; servants are killed whose spirits are to wait on\nthem, even a wife, voluntarily or without being asked, gives up her\nearthly life to accompany her husband. Offerings of food and drink\nare made to them afterwards, prayers are addressed to them, memorials\nof them, of various kinds, are preserved in the houses they occupied.\n\nIt was the universal belief of the early world that the person\ncontinued to exist after the death of the body; and this furnished\nthe materials for a religion which was more widely prevalent in\nantiquity than the worship of any god. In some forms of it, indeed,\nthe spirit appears to have been treated as an enemy, and this worship\nmight be judged to fall short of religion, which is the cultivation,\nnot the avoidance, of intercourse with higher powers. The savage has\nno hope from the spirit, and does not seek his intercourse. But in\nmost forms of the belief in the continued life of the departed, other\nsentiments than fear prevail; natural affection is felt for the lost\nrelative; the ancestor represents the family, to which the individual\nis called to subordinate and to some extent even to sacrifice\nhimself; the spirit of the dead is the upholder of a family tradition\nwhich the living must hold sacred. Even in those cases in which\nnothing but fear is apparent, these latter sentiments may also be to\nsome extent operative.\n\n3. Fetish-worship.--The early world has still another kind of deity.\nIn the case of all those we have considered, the god stands in some\nrespect above the worshipper; man reverences the sun, spirit, or\nanimal, for some quality in them that is admirable or that gives them\na hold over him; they are in some ways beyond him. Among certain sets\nof savages, however, notably in South Africa, this feature of\nreligion partially disappears, and objects are reverenced not for any\nintrinsic quality in them that makes them worthy of regard, but\nbecause of a spirit which is supposed to be connected with them.\nStones, trees, twigs, pieces of bark, roots, corn, claws of birds,\nteeth, skin, feathers, articles of human manufacture, any conceivable\nobject, will be held in reverence by the savage and regarded as\nembodying a spirit. Anything that strikes his fancy as being out of\nthe common he will take up and add to his museum of objects, each of\nwhich has in it a hidden power. That power, be it repeated, is not\nconnected with the natural quality of the object, but is due to a\nspirit which has come to reside in it, and which may very possibly\nleave it again. Having chosen this deity and set it up for worship,\nthe man can use it as he thinks fit. He addresses prayers to it and\nextols its virtues; but should his enterprise not prosper, he will\ncast his deity aside as useless, and cease to worship it; he will\naddress it with torrents of abuse, and will even beat it, to make it\nserve him better. It is a deity at his disposal, to serve in the\naccomplishment of his desires; the individual keeps gods of his own\nto help him in his undertakings.\n\nThe name \"fetishism,\" by which this kind of worship is known, is of\nPortuguese origin; it is derived from _feitico_, \"made,\" \"artificial\"\n(compare the old English _fetys_, used by Chaucer); and this term,\nused of the charms and amulets worn in the Roman Catholic religion of\nthe period, was applied by the Portuguese sailors of the eighteenth\ncentury to the deities they saw worshipped by the negroes of the West\nCoast of Africa. De Brosses, a French savant of last century, brought\nthe word fetishism into use as a term for the type of religion of the\nlowest races. The word has given rise to some confusion, having been\napplied by Comte and other writers to the worship of the heavenly\nbodies and of the great features of nature. It is best to limit it,\nas has been done above, to the worship of such natural objects as are\nreverenced not for their own power or excellence but because they are\nsupposed to be occupied each by a spirit.\n\nCan this be called religion? In the full sense of the term it cannot.\nWe should remember that it is not the casual object, but the spirit\nconnected with it that the savage worships; but even then we shall be\nobliged to hold that the fetish worshipper is rather seeking after\nreligion than actually in possession of it.\n\n4. A Supreme Being.--Is it necessary to add another class of deity to\nthese three, and to say that besides nature-gods and spirits early\nman also worshipped a Supreme Being above all these? In most savage\nreligions there is a principal deity to whom the others are\nsubordinate. But if we carefully examine one by one the supreme gods\nof these religions, we shall find reason to doubt whether they really\nhave a common character so as to form a class by themselves. Many of\nthem are nature gods who have outgrown the other deities of that\nclass and come to occupy an isolated position. The North American\nIndians, as we saw, worship the Great Spirit, the heaven with its\nbreath, to whom sun and moon and other ordinances of nature act as\nministers. In many cases heaven is the highest god. In others again\nthe sun is supreme. Ukko the great god of the Finns is a heaven- and\nrain-god. Perkunas the god of the Lithuanians is connected with\nthunder. On the other hand there are instances in which the supreme\ngod appears to be a different being from the nature-god. The\nSamoyedes worship the sun and moon and the spirits of other parts of\nnature; but they also believe in a good spirit who is above all. The\nSupreme Being of the islands of the Pacific bears in New Zealand the\nname of Tangaroa, and is spoken of in quite metaphysical terms as the\nuncreated and eternal Creator. Here we may suspect Christian\ninfluence. With the Zulus Unkulunkulu the Old-old one might be\nsupposed to be a kind of first cause. But on looking nearer we find\nhe is distinctly a man, the first man, the common ancestor; beyond\nwhich idea speculation does not seem to go. Among many North American\ntribes it is usual to find an animal the chief deity, the hare or the\nmusk-rat or the coyote. It is very common to find in savage beliefs a\nvague far-off god who is at the back of all the others, takes little\npart in the management of things, and receives little worship. But it\nis impossible to judge what that being was at an earlier time; he may\nhave been a nature-god or a spirit who has by degrees grown faint and\ncome to occupy this position. We cannot judge from the supreme beings\nof savages, such as they are, that the belief in a supreme being was\ngenerally diffused in the world[1] in the earliest times, and is not\nto be derived from any of the processes from which the other gods\narose. We shall see afterwards how natural the tendency is which,\nwhere there are several gods, brings one of them to the front while\nthe others lose importance. For a theory of primitive monotheism the\nsupreme gods of savages certainly do not furnish sufficient evidence;\nthey do not appear to have sprung all from the same source, but to\nhave advanced from very different quarters to the supreme position,\nin obedience to that native instinct of man's mind which causes him,\neven when he believes in many gods, to make one of them supreme.\n\n[Footnote 1: _Cf._ A. Lang, _The Making of Religion_ (1898);\nGalloway, _Studies in the Philosophy of Religion_ (1904), p. 123,\n_sqq._]\n\nWhich Gods were First Worshipped?--If then early man formed his gods\nfrom parts of nature and from spirits of departed ancestors or\nheroes, and even, should the more backward races now existing\nrepresent a stage of human life belonging to the early world, from\nspirits residing in outward objects, which of these is the original\nroot of all the religions of the world? The claim has been made for\neach of these kinds of religion, that it came first.\n\n1. Fetish-gods came First.--Till recently the view prevailed that all\nthe religion of the world has sprung out of fetishism. First the\nsavage took for his god some casual object, as we have described,\nthen he chose higher objects, trees and mountains, rivers and lakes,\nand even the sun and stars. The heavens at last became his supreme\nfetish, and at a higher level, when he had learned about spirits, he\nwould make a spirit his fetish, and so at last come to Monotheism.\n\nThis view is attractive because it places the beginning of religion\nin the lowest known form of it and thus makes for the belief that the\ncourse of the world's faith has been upward from the first. But it\npresents the gravest difficulties; for why should the savage make a\ngod of a stick or a stone, and attribute to it supernatural powers?\nWho told him about a god, that he should call a stick god, or about\nsupernatural powers, that he should suppose a stick to work wonders?\nThere is nothing in the stick to suggest such notions; that he should\nmake gods in this way, that the belief in wonderful powers should\noriginate in this way, is surely quite incredible. Much more likely\nis it, surely, that he got the notion of God from some other quarter\nand applied it in his own grotesque and degraded way; than that the\nnotion of God was taken first from such poor forms and applied\nafterwards to objects better suited to it. Religion and civilisation\ngo hand in hand, and if civilisation can decay (and leading\nanthropologists declare that the debased tribes of Australia and West\nAfrica show signs of a higher civilisation they have lost) then\nreligion also may decay. A lower race may borrow religious ideas from\na higher and adapt them to their own position, _i.e._ degrade them.\nAnd the progress of religion may still have been upwards on the\nwhole, although retrograde movements have taken place in certain\nraces. On these and other grounds it is now held with growing\ncertainty that fetishism cannot be the original form of religion, and\nthat the higher stages of it are not to be derived from that one. The\nraces among whom fetishism is found exhibit a well-known feature of\nthe decadence of religion, namely that the great god or gods have\ngrown weak and faint, and smaller gods and spirits have crowded in to\nfill up the blank thus caused. Worship is transferred from the great\nbeings who are the original gods of the tribe and whom it still\nprofesses in a vague way to believe, to numerous smaller beings, and\nfrom the good gods to the bad.\n\n2. Spirits, Human or Quasi-human, came First.--Is the worship of\nspirits then the original form of religions. This has been powerfully\nmaintained in this country by Mr. Herbert Spencer and Mr. Tylor.\nAccording to Mr. Spencer \"the rudimentary form of all religion is the\npropitiation of dead ancestors.\" Men concluded, as soon as they were\ncapable of such reasoning, that the life they witnessed in plants and\nanimals, in sun and moon and other parts of nature, was due to their\nbeing inhabited by the spirits of departed men. With all respect for\nthe splendid exposition given by Mr. Spencer[2] of the early beliefs\nof mankind regarding spirits, it is impossible to think that he has\nmade out his case when he treats the gods of early India and of\nGreece as deified ancestors. If the natural incredulity we feel at\nbeing told that Jupiter, Indra, the sun, the sacred mountain, and the\nstars all alike came to be worshipped because each of them\nrepresented some departed human hero, is not at once decisive, we\nhave only to wait a little to see whether some other theory cannot\naccount for these gods in a simpler way.\n\n[Footnote 2: _Sociology_, vol. i. Also _Ecclesiastical Institutions_,\np. 675; \"ghost-propitiation is the origin of all religions.\"]\n\nMr. Tylor also derives all religion from the worship of spirits, but\nin a different way. His is the most comprehensive system of Animism,\nusing that term in the narrower sense of soul-worship. Starting from\nthe doctrine of souls, reached by early man in the way described\nabove (p. 33, _sqq._), he argues that when once this notion was\nreached it would be applied to other beings as well as man. Not\nhaving learned to distinguish himself clearly from other beings, man\nwould judge that they had souls like his own; and so every part of\nnature came to have its soul, and everything that went on in the\nuniverse was to be explained as the activity of souls. It was in this\nway, according to Mr. Tylor, that the view of the universal animation\nof nature, characteristic of early thought, was reached. \"As the\nhuman body was held to live and act by virtue of its own inhabiting\nspirit-soul, so the operations of the world seemed to be carried on\nby other spirits.\" At this point the soul is an unsubstantial essence\ninhabiting a body, it has its life and activity only in connection\nwith the body; but the step was easily taken to the further belief in\nspirits like the souls, but not attached to any body. The spirits\nmoved about freely, like the genii, demons, fairies, and beings of\nall kinds, with whom to the mind of antiquity the world was so\ncrowded.\n\nThree classes of spirits we have up to this point: those of\nancestors, those attached to the various parts of the life of nature,\nand those existing independently. Can the higher nature-deities be\naccounted for by this theory as well as the minor spirits of the\nparts of nature? Mr. Tylor considers that they can; he declares that\nthe \"higher deities of polytheism have their place in the general\nanimistic system of mankind.\" He acknowledges that, with few\nexceptions, great gods have a place as well as smaller gods in every\nnon-civilised system of religion. But in origin and essence he holds\nthey are the same. \"The difference is rather of rank than of nature.\"\nAs chiefs and kings are among men so are the great gods among the\nlesser spirits. The sun, the heavens, the stars, are living beings,\nbecause they have spirits as man has a soul, or as a spring has a\nspirit that haunts it. Thus in the doctrine of souls is found the\norigin of the whole of early religion. Mr. Tylor confesses, however,\nthat it is impossible to trace the process by which the doctrine of\nsouls gave rise to the belief in the great gods.\n\nThe weakness of this view is that it involves a denial that the great\npowers of nature could be worshipped before the process of reasoning\nhad been completed which led to the belief that they had souls or\nspirits. But how did early man regard these great powers before this?\nDid they not appear to him adorable by the very impressions they made\nupon his various senses? Did he really need to argue out the belief\nthat they had souls, before he felt drawn to wonder at them, and to\nseek to enter into relations with them?\n\nAnimism.--The word Animism, it should here be noticed, is used in the\nstudy of religions in a wider sense than that of Mr. Tylor. Many of\nthe great religions are known to have arisen out of a primitive\nworship of spirits and to have advanced from that stage to a\nworship of gods. The god differs from the spirit in having a marked\npersonal character, while the spirits form a vague and somewhat\nundistinguishable crowd; in having a regular _clientele_ of\nworshippers, whereas the spirit is only served by those who need to\ncommunicate with him; in having therefore a regular worship, while\nthe spirit is only worshipped when the occasion arises; and in being\nserved from feelings of attachment and trust, and not like the\nspirits from fear. When gods appear, some writers hold, then and not\ntill then does religion begin; before that point is reached magic and\nexorcism are the forms used for addressing the unseen beings, but\nwhen it is reached we have worship; intercourse is deliberately\nsought with beings who hold regular relations with man. The word\nAnimism is best employed to denote the worship of spirits as\ndistinguished from that of gods. Whether or not early man derived his\nbelief in the multitude of spirits by which he believed himself to be\nsurrounded, from his belief in the separable human soul, there is no\ndoubt that he did consider himself to be so surrounded. Animism in\nthis sense is undoubtedly the beginning of some at least of the great\nreligions.\n\n3. The Minor Nature-worship came First.--M. Reville holds[3] that the\ntree and the river and other such beings were the first gods, and\nthat the deification of the great powers of nature came afterwards as\nan extension of the same principle. Mr. Max Mueller seems to share\nthis view when he says that man was led from the worship of\nsemi-tangible objects, which provided him with semi-deities, to that\nof intangible objects, which gave him deities proper. The Germans, as\na rule, hold the view that the great nature-worship came first, and\nthat the sanctity of the tree and the river came to them from above,\nthese objects being regarded as lesser living beings deserving to be\nworshipped as well as the greater ones. The English school let the\nsanctity of these objects come to them as it were from below; when\nman has come to believe in spirits, he concludes that they have\nspirits too, and worships the spirits he supposes to dwell in them.\nIt does not seem that these theories are entirely exclusive of each\nother. French writers suppose that the minor nature-worship first\nsprang up of itself, half-animal man respecting the animals as\nrivals, the trees as fruit-bearers for his hunger, and so on, and\nthat spirits were added to these beings when the great animistic\nmovement of thought in which these writers believe took place, of\ncourse at a very early period.[4]\n\n[Footnote 3: Reville, _Histoire des religions des peuples\nnon-civilises_, ii. 225.]\n\n[Footnote 4: This view is the basis of M. Andre Lefevre's _La\nReligion_. Paris, 1892.]\n\n4. The Great Nature-powers came First.--We come in the last place to\nthat class of deities which we spoke of first--the powers of nature.\nBy several great writers it is held that the worship of these is the\noriginal form of all religion. We shall give two of the leading\ntheories on the subject, that of Mr. Max Mueller and that of Ed. von\nHartmann.\n\nMr. Max Mueller has written very strongly against the view that\nfetishism is a primary form of religion, and holds that the worship\nof casual objects is not a stage of religion once universally\nprevalent, but is, on the contrary, a parasitical development and of\naccidental origin. He does not tell us what the original religion of\nmankind was. The work in which he deals most directly with this\nquestion[5] is concerned chiefly with the Indian faith, the early\nstages of which he regards as the most typical instance of the growth\nof religion generally. He does not, however, tell us definitely out\nof what earlier kind of religion that of the Aryans grew, which India\nbest teaches us to know, or what religion they had before they\ndeveloped that of the Vedic hymns. We may infer, however, what his\nview on this point is from the very interesting sketch he draws of\nthe psychological advance man could make, in selecting objects of\nreverence, from one class of things to another (p. 179, _sqq._).\nFirst, there are tangible objects, which, however, Mr. Max Mueller\ndenies that mankind as a whole ever did worship; such things as\nstones, shells, and bones. Then second, semi-tangible objects; such\nas trees, mountains, rivers, the sea, the earth, which supply the\nmaterial for what may be called _semi-deities_. And third, intangible\nobjects, such as the sky, the stars, the sun, the dawn, the moon; in\nthese are to be seen the germs of _deities_. At each of these stages\nman is seeking not for something finite but for the infinite; from\nthe first he has a presentiment of something far beyond; he grasps\nsuccessive objects of worship not for themselves but for what they\nseem to tell of, though it is not there, and this sense of the\ninfinite, even in poor and inadequate beliefs, is the germ of\nreligion in him. When he rises after his long journey to fix his\nregards on the great powers of nature, he apprehends in them\nsomething great and transcendent. He applies to them great titles; he\ncalls them _devas_, shining ones; _asuras_, living ones; and, at\nlength, _amartas_, immortal ones. At first these were no more than\ndescriptive titles, applied to the great visible phenomena of nature\nas a class. They expressed the admiration and wonder the young mind\nof man felt itself compelled to pay to these magnificent beings. But\nby giving them these names he was led instinctively to regard them as\npersons; he ascribed to them human attributes and dramatic actions,\nso that they became definite, transcendent, living personalities. In\nthese, more than in any former objects of his adoration, his craving\nfor the infinite was satisfied. Thus the ancient Aryan advanced,\n\"from the visible to the invisible, from the bright beings that could\nbe touched, like the river that could be seen, like the thunder that\ncould be heard, like the sun, to the devas that could no longer be\ntouched or heard or seen.... The way was traced out by nature\nherself.\"\n\n[Footnote 5: _Lectures on the Origin of Religion_, 1882.]\n\nThis famous theory is, when we come to examine it, rather puzzling.\nIt does not account for the first beginnings of religion except by\ninference, and it does so in two contradictory ways; for, on the one\nhand, Mr. Max Mueller enumerates tangible objects first as those from\nwhich men rose to higher objects, and on the other he denies that\nfetishism is a primitive formation. He suggests that there were\nearlier gods than the devas, but he tells us nothing about them,\nexcept that they were not fully deities; they were only semi-deities,\nor not deities at all. The worship of spirits he leaves entirely out\nof consideration; religion did not, in his view, begin with Animism.\nWhen he does tell us of the beginnings of religion, what is his view?\nThe religion of the Aryans began, and it is a type--the other\nreligions presumably began in the same way, _e.g._ those of China and\nof Egypt--by the impression made on man from without by great natural\nobjects co-operating with his inner presentiment of the infinite,\nwhich they met to a greater degree than any objects he had tried\nbefore. Religion was due accordingly to aesthetic impressions from\nwithout, answering an aesthetic and intellectual inner need. Those\nneeds, then, which led men to make gods of the great powers of earth\nand heaven were not of an animal or material nature, but belonged to\nthe intellectual part of his constitution. Those who framed such a\nreligion for themselves must have been raised above the pressing\nnecessities and cares of savage life; they were not absorbed in the\ntask of making their living, but had leisure to stand and admire the\nheavenly bodies, and to analyse the impressions made on them by the\nwaters and the thunder. Nay, they had sufficient power of abstraction\nto form a class of such great beings, to bestow on them a common\ntitle, not only one but several progressive common titles, each\nexpressing a deeper reflection than the last. Thus did they reflect\non the nature of the cosmic powers, taken as a class. This,\nevidently, is not the beginning of religion. It is the religion of a\ncomparatively lofty civilisation; lower stages of civilisation, and\nof religion also, must have preceded this one. Even the heavenly\nbodies, it appears to many scholars, must have been worshipped by men\nwho regarded them not with aesthetic admiration and intellectual\nsatisfaction only, but in the light of more pressing and practical\ninterests.\n\nWe take Edward von Hartmann as the representative of those who, like\nMr. Max Mueller, trace the origin of religion to the worship of the\nheavenly powers, but who carry back that worship to the earliest\nstage. Writers who disagree with his philosophy take grave exception\nto his treatment of religion, for he regards religion, as he\nconsiders consciousness itself, not as an original and inseparable\nelement of human nature, but as a thing acquired by man on his way\nupwards; and he finds the original motive of religion to have lain in\negoistic eudaemonism, in the selfish desire of happiness, which at\nthat stage of man's life determined all his actions. The account,\nhowever, given by Von Hartmann of the beginning of religion in the\nadoration of the powers of nature is of singular freshness and power,\nand we can deduct from it, after stating it, the peculiarities\narising out of his philosophical system.\n\nThe first religion that existed in the world had for its objects the\nheavenly powers. The objects worshipped are known, indeed, before\nreligion begins; the illusions of early thought have settled on the\nheavenly powers before they are worshipped; on the outward object the\nmind has conferred the character of a living and acting being, which\nit is henceforth to wear. This transformation, poetic fancy, not mere\nlogic and not merely utilitarian considerations, has brought about.\nBut religion only begins when man sets himself to worship these\nbeings, and to this he is driven by his material needs. Religion\nbegins in a being as yet without religion and without morality. The\nneed for food is the motive that brings about the change, for that\npure egoist early man has seen that the powers of nature are able to\nhelp or hinder him in his search for a living; the sun can set his\nplants growing or can burn them up, and the thunderstorm can revive\nthem. His happiness depends on these powers, and he seeks to set up\nrelations with them. He seeks to gain as an ally the heavenly power\nwho is so able to further or to thwart his aims; he makes known to it\nhis wishes by calling upon it, and he offers presents to it. He\nworships the heavenly powers, and religion has begun. Worship lends\nto these powers, though they were known before, a fixity and reality\nthey did not formerly possess. Von Hartmann is inclined to trace all\nthe various worships of these powers, which have prevailed in the\nmost different parts of the earth, to the same original centre, while\nat the same time he maintains that even if all the instances of this\nworship cannot be referred to any common origin, it must have arisen\nin this way, wherever men of the same nature dwelt; the psychological\nnecessity of this development accounts for the appearance of this\nsame religion in different lands and among dissimilar races.\n\nThe worship of the heavenly powers, accordingly, is with this writer\nthe original religion. While admitting that the worship of domestic\nspirits grew up in the way described by the English anthropologists,\nhe denies that Animism is ever a religion by itself without being\ncombined with higher beliefs. He denies also that fetishism could\never be an original religious product, or that men could ever pass\nfrom having no religion to the religion of fetishism. Wherever it\nappears, it is a religion of decay. All the religion in the world has\ncome from the worship of nature, which, whether arising at one centre\nor at several, spread over the world, and is to be recognised,\nclearly or dimly, in the religions of all lands.\n\nThis view of the origin of religion is shared in the main by Otto\nPfleiderer,[6] and other German writers. It was from the impressions\nmade on man by the powers of nature, these scholars hold, and not\nfrom his belief in spirits, that his religion came. But it was not\nnecessarily due to pure egoism, as Von Hartmann represents; the\nearliest religions need not, they hold, have been a mere attempt at\nbribery. The motives which first caused man to worship the heavenly\npowers surely arose from other needs than that for food alone. The\nintellectual craving, the desire to know the nature of the world he\nlived in, and to refer himself to the highest principle of it, as far\nas that could be attained; the aesthetic need, the desire to have to\ndo with objects which filled his imagination; the moral need, the\ndesire not to occupy a purely isolated position, but to place himself\nunder some authority, and to feel some obligation, these also, though\nin the dimmest way, as matters of presentiment rather than clear\nconsciousness, entered into the earliest worship of the heavenly\npowers. This view has the great advantage over that of Von Hartmann,\nthat it makes the development of religion continuous from the first,\ninstead of representing it as being originally a purely selfish\nthing, into which the character of affection and devotion only\nentered at some subsequent stage. If man's nature is essentially\nreligious, then all that constitutes religion must have been with him\nfrom the first, in however unconscious and undeveloped form.\n\n[Footnote 6: _Philosophy of Religion_, vol. iii. chap. i.]\n\nConclusion.--We have enumerated the different kinds of gods\nworshipped by early man--fetishes, spirits, the powers of nature. We\nhave found a general agreement that fetishism is not an original form\nof religion, but a product of the decay of higher forms in\nunfavourable conditions. As to the other two kinds of deities, it is\nimpossible to deny that gods have been formed from the very first in\neach of these two ways. The domestic worship of the early world\ncannot be derived from nature-worship, but grew out of the belief\nawakened in early man, by the familiar experiences mentioned above.\nThat the greater nature-worship, on the other hand, can be derived\nfrom the belief in spirits is an assertion which can never be proved,\nor even made probable; that it arose from the impressions produced on\nearly man by the great objects and forces of nature, is a thing we\ncan understand and believe. The minor nature-worship is also a very\nintelligible thing, even without Mr. Tylor's theory of souls to\nexplain it. What more natural than that the savage should worship the\ngreat oak or the waterfall, or should think himself surrounded by\ninvisible beings, even if he did not frame the latter on the model of\nthe human soul? We arrive therefore at the conclusion that with the\nexception of the doctrines about death and the abode of spirits, we\nmust regard the worship of nature as the root of the world's\nreligion.\n\nWe must beware, however, of imputing to the thoughts of early men\nabout their gods, any such qualities as consistency or regularity.\nThe power of holding at one and the same time religious beliefs which\nare inconsistent with each other, is one which even in the most\ndeveloped religions is by no means wanting; and how much more was\nthis the case among men who lived before there was any exact thought!\nThe savage could have a variety of gods of very different natures,\nwho formed in his mind quite a happy family. When he found a new god,\nthat did not oblige him to part with any old one; it was one god he\nwas seeking, but he could not settle on one god as yet, when there\nwere so many beings with a good claim to the position. He made his\ngods not out of nothing, but out of a great variety of experiences\nand impressions, and they acted and reacted on each other in an\nendless variety of ways. One god came to the front here and another\nthere; an object was deified here from one reason and there from\nanother; new gods in time turned old and were less thought of while\nforgotten gods of former days came back to memory and were worshipped\nonce more. Endless change, endless recurrences of growth and of decay\nfilled up those great spaces and periods, measureless and trackless\nalmost as the expanses of the ocean, that were covered by the\nprehistoric life of mankind.\n\n\nBOOKS RECOMMENDED\n\nJevons, _Introduction to the History of Religion_, 1896.\n\nE. S. Hartland, in _Proceedings of Oxford Congress of the History of\nReligion_, p. 21, _sqq._\n\nOf the large class of books reporting the manners and beliefs of\nspecial savage races we may specify--\n\nD. G. Brinton, _The Myths of the New World_, 1896.\n\nW. W. Gill, _Myths and Songs from the South Pacific_, 1876.\n\nKingsley, Miss, _West African Studies_, 1899.\n\nCallaway, _The Religious System of the Amazulu_, 1863-72.\n\nDuff Macdonald, _Africana, the Heart of Heathen Africa_, 1882.\n\nG. Grey, _Journals of Two Expeditions of Discovery in North-Western\nand Western Australia_, 1841.\n\nSpencer and Gilpen. _Native Tribes of Central Australia_, 1899.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER IV\nEARLY DEVELOPMENTS--BELIEF\n\n\nWe have seen from what materials early man made his gods. As the gods\ndiffered in their origin, they differed also from the very first in\nthe mode of their development. The great nature-gods gave rise to one\nkind of religion, and the minor nature-gods to another, the thought\nof the departed members of the household to a third. But these\nvarious religions could not develop side by side without influencing\neach other. These different worships began in the very earliest times\nto get mixed up together; there is none of the great religions which\nwe do not find to be a combination of them. It will be well to\nconsider them in the first place separately.\n\n1. Growth of the Great Gods.--Taking them in the order we have\nalready followed, we come first to the great nature-worship, of which\nheaven, the sun, the moon, the stars, dawn and sunset, and then the\nphenomena of the weather, rain, storm, and thunder and lightning, are\nthe objects. It cannot be too clearly borne in mind that what was\nworshipped was originally the natural object itself, regarded, after\nthe earliest habit of thought, as living. To heaven itself, to the\nsun as he rose or set, to the storm itself, men addressed prayers and\nmade offerings; and in many quarters, both among savages and in the\ngreat religions, the same thing occurs to this day.\n\nBut it was impossible for man to stop here, his imagination would not\nallow him to do so. In some races, imagination was more active than\nin others, but nowhere was it quite inoperative; and so it happened\nthat man was led, here to a greater there to a less extent, beyond\nthe direct and simple adoration of the powers of nature. When he\nbegan to give them names, a first and a great step was taken in\nadvance of the original simplicity. A name is a power; if it is\nanything more than a mere title or label, and all primitive names are\nmore than this, it brings with it associations of its own, and thus\nmen are led to ascribe to the object indicated by the name, a new\ncharacter and new powers. They proceed to argue about the name and\ndraw conclusions from it as to the nature of the being they worship,\nand so come to think of their deity in quite a different manner. Even\nto classify objects together and give them a common title, \"the\nbright ones,\" or \"the living ones,\" as the early Aryans did, gives\nthem an independent position of their own, and tempts the imagination\nto go further in describing them. Striving to find names for those\nbeings he worships and thinks about so much, early man gives them the\nnames of living creatures with whom he is familiar, and in this way\nhe brings them much nearer to himself, and at the same time appears\nto himself to know a great deal more about them. The moon, for\nexample, has horns, the moon is a cow. Heaven is over all, heaven is\na father. And as he knows all about a cow, and all about a father, he\nat once has these deities made much more real to him, they have an\nindependent existence to him. But, on the other hand, he has got\nsomething more in his deity than there is in the natural object. It\nis no longer the mere naked heaven or the mere moon he worships; but\nthese beings with additions made to them by his own imagination.\n\nAs time goes on the additions grow more and more. Having got living\npersons for his deities, early man readily goes on to weave their\nhistories and their relations. If the moon is a cow, the sun is a\nbull chasing her round the sky. This is an instance of a principle\nwhich obtains in many at least of the early religions and which it is\nimportant to remember, viz. that the powers of nature were first\nidentified with animals. The zoomorphic stage of the nature-gods\ncomes before the anthropomorphic (_cf._ the signs of the zodiac), and\nin many savage tribes it still survives.\n\nBut it is when the gods begin to be thought of after the likeness of\nhuman beings that the decisive step is made in their development. If\nheaven is a father, it is easy to go on from that. Earth will be the\ncorresponding mother (an idea found all over the world); and all men\nwill be their children. If the sun is invested with a name of\nmasculine gender (but the sun is frequently feminine), he must do\nfeats becoming such a character. If the storm is a male god, he will\nbe a warrior or a huntsman. Thus the god acquires a personal\ncharacter and an independent movement; what is told about him has\nreference, of course, to the natural object he sprang from, or the\nseason with which he is connected; but the deity is becoming more and\nmore separate from the natural object, and acquiring a character and\nhistory of his own. The stories connected with the god vary according\nto the habits and the imaginations of different peoples; in some\ncases the gods remain pure and exalted beings, in others savage and\nindecent myths are accumulated around them, and these primitive myths\nadhere to their persons long after they themselves have felt an\nupward tendency and acquired a civilised character with the moral\nelevation of their peoples. We shall see in many instances how the\nnature-gods were personified, made into beasts, made into men, and\nsurrounded with myths and legends. That is the natural history of the\nnature-gods; the process through which they must pass if they grow at\nall.\n\nPolytheism.--Another general feature of the worship of the great\nnatural objects has to be mentioned. Each god has a history of his\nown; he has grown up separately as men concentrated their attention\nupon him. But as one god grows up after another, or as the gods who\ngrow up in two countries are afterwards brought together, it comes to\npass that there are many of them, and none of them is necessarily\nsupreme. What is the worshipper to do? The least reflection will\nconvince us that in any act of worship man fixes his attention on one\nobject only. That belongs to the very nature of religion; as a child\ncould not treat several men at once as its father, nor a servant be\nequally faithful to several masters, so man naturally tends to have\none god. He turns to the highest he knows, who is most likely to be\nable to help him, and there cannot be two highests, but only one. But\nman's position in the early world does not allow him to be true to\nthis religious instinct. As he sees one aspect of the world to-day,\nand another to-morrow, he cannot, when his god is a power of nature,\nalways see the same god before him. But can he not worship another\ngod when the first one is out of sight and out of mind? Though he\nworshipped heaven yesterday, can he not worship the sun to-day, or\nthe storm, or the great sea? And though the former generation\nworshipped one of these beings in the foremost place, may not the\nexisting generation devote itself principally to another? That power\ndoes not cease to be a deity which is not immediately before his\nmind. It is still a deity, and in a while he will turn to it again,\nand make it first. Thus it comes about by inevitable logic that when\nman gets his gods from nature, he has a number of them. When he gets\na new god he does not deny the god he had before; he is not yet in a\nposition to conclude that there can only be one god. When he is\nworshipping he feels as if there were only one; but this feeling\napplies at different times to a number of different beings, and from\nsuch inconsistency he lacks the power to free himself. The other is a\ngod too; all the gods he has ever worshipped he may on occasion\nworship again. Nor can he refuse to recognise the gods of others; to\nthem no doubt they are gods, if not to him; they are beings of the\nsame class with his god. And thus early man is a polytheist.\nPolytheism is a complex product; it is the addition to each other of\na number of cults which have grown up separately.\n\nIn Polytheism, however, very different religious positions are\npossible. Men may feel that the whole set of the gods in whose\nexistence they believe have claims on them, and may regard themselves\nas worshippers of them all, resorting, as feeling and old association\nmoves them, now to one and now to another, or defining the places or\noccasions at which each of them is to be sought, or in some other way\nadjusting their various claims; or, on the other hand, while\nbelieving in the existence of many gods, they may confine their\nworship to one. A man knows that there are many gods, but says that\nhe has only to do with one of them. This is a religious position very\nfrequently met with in antiquity. A circle of gods is believed in,\nbut one of them comes into prominence at a time and is worshipped as\nsupreme. This is called Kathenotheism: the worship of one god at a\ntime. The title was invented by Mr. Max Mueller, who also gives the\ntitle of Henotheism to that position in which many gods are believed\nin as existing, but worship is given to only one. The following are\nexamples of the various positions:--\n\n  The language of Polytheism is--\"Father Zeus that rulest from Ida,\n  most glorious, most great, and thou sun that seest all things, and\n  ye rivers and thou earth, and ye that in the underworld punish\n  whosoever sweareth falsely--be ye witnesses.\"--_Iliad_, iii. 280.\n\nThe Jews at the time of Josiah were accomplished polytheists, as we\nmay see from the catalogue of the worships suppressed at Jerusalem by\nthat monarch, 2 Kings xxiii. The gods of each of the surrounding\ntribes appear to have been worshipped there, and the old gods of the\nseparate tribes and families of Israel appear to have been kept up.\n\nKathenotheism.--The Vedic poets, as we shall see, speak of the god\nthey are immediately addressing as supreme, and heap upon him all the\nhighest attributes, while not thinking of denying the divinity of\nother gods.\n\n  The language of Henotheism is--\"Thou, O Jehovah, art far above all\n  the earth; thou art exalted far above all gods\" (Ps. xcvii. 9).\n  \"There is none like unto Thee among the gods, O Lord!... Thou art\n  great, and doest wondrous things: Thou art God alone\" (Ps. lxxxvi.\n  8, 10). Here the other gods are recognised as existing, but only\n  one is worshipped. Compare also St Paul: \"There are gods many, and\n  lords many, but to us there is one God\" (1 Cor. viii. 5, 6).\n\n  The language of Monotheism is--\"All the gods of the peoples are\n  idols: but Jehovah made the heavens\" (Ps. xcvi. 5), and \"Thou shalt\n  have no other god before Me.\"\n\nA further religious position to be noticed here is that of Dualism.\nNot all dualism comes from nature-worship, but in a land where a\nbeneficent and a harmful natural force are in striking antagonism to\neach other, this may take place. Man, when he interprets the kindly\ninfluences of nature as the blessings of the good god, naturally\ninterprets the agencies which blight or ruin as being also the\nmanifestation of a living power, but of an evil one. Thanks to the\ngood god alternate, in this case, with efforts to counteract or to\nappease the bad one; if the two appear to be nearly balanced, then\nneither is supreme, and both overawe the mind and receive worship.\nBut in general we may remark that the greater nature-worship is of an\nelevating tendency. It brings man into relations with powers which\nare truly great, and places him even physically in the position of\nlooking up, not down. Where the nature-power is a harsh one, a\nscorching sun, a tempestuous sea, the self-command and self-sacrifice\ncalled out by the worship of them may be, if not carried to extremes,\na bracing discipline; but with some exceptions the nature-gods are\ngood, and have to do with light and with kindness.\n\n2. The Minor Nature-worship.--The worship of the great powers of\nnature has a universal character; it can be carried on anywhere;\nwandering tribes carry it with them; heaven and the sun and the winds\ncan be addressed in every land. The minor nature-worship differs from\nit in this respect: an animal is only worshipped in the country where\nit occurs, and the worship of the tree, the well, the stone, is\naltogether local. With this local nature-worship the world was, in\nearly times, thickly overspread; and manifold survivals of it are\nstill to be found even in lands where the primitive religion has been\nlongest superseded. This is the religion of local observance and\nlocal legend, which clings to the face of a country in spite of\npublic changes of creed, and, when the old religion has departed, is\nfound to have secured a shelter for itself in the new one.\n\nIn this minor nature-worship which spreads its network over all the\nearly world, the character of primitive society is clearly\nrepresented; the small communities have their small local\nworships--each clan, almost each kraal, has its shrine, its god, and\nlimits itself to its own sacred things. Religion is a bond connecting\ntogether the members of small groups of men, but separating them from\nthe members of other groups. The following are some of the more\nimportant developments of this.\n\n(_a_) The Worship of Animals.--Primitive man had to hold his own\nagainst the animals by force of strength and cunning; and he was well\nacquainted with them. He respected them for the qualities in which\nthey excelled him, the hare for his swiftness, the beaver for his\nskill, the fox for his craftiness. What he worshipped, however, was\nnot the individuals of a species, but the species as a whole,\ntypified perhaps in a great hare or a great fox, the mythical first\nparent of the species, and possessing its qualities in a supreme\ndegree. It happened apparently over the whole world, with the\nexception of most branches of the Aryan family, that men at a very\nearly stage regarded themselves as related by the tie of descent,\nsome to one species of animals or of plants and some to another. From\nthis belief tribes took their names, each member tattooing the figure\nof his animal ancestor on his person. The Bechuanas, for example, are\ndivided into crocodile-men, fish-, ape-, buffalo-, elephant-, and\nlion-men, and so on. The hairy or scaly ancestor is the \"totem\" of\nthe tribe, and they consider that animal sacred, and will not eat the\nflesh of it. All who bear the same totem regard each other as of\nkindred blood, as descended from the same ancestor. The totem may\nalso be a vegetable, in which case no member of the stock will gather\nor eat it.\n\nTotemism is to be seen in operation at the present day in various\nparts of the world. North America is, perhaps, its classic land in\nmodern times. It is, however, a stage of society through which all\nraces have at one time or another passed. According to the latest\ninvestigations totemism is not to be regarded as itself a religion;\nthe totem being regarded not as a superior but as an equal. Its\ninfluence on the early growth of religion, however, was great, and\nwidely ramified.[1] From this two important consequences follow which\nwill meet us again and again in our study of the great religions. The\nfirst is animal-worship, a phenomenon of frequent occurrence and of\nperplexing import. Mr. McLennan has shown that much at least of the\nwidespread worship of animals is to be traced to an early totem-stage\nof society,[2] when animals were held sacred as the ancestors of men.\nIn the second place, totemism explains the view taken in the early\nworld of the nature of religious fellowship. In modern times people\nregard each other as brothers in religion when they believe the same\ndoctrines. It is belief, an intellectual or spiritual agreement, that\nbinds them together. The ancient religious union was of a quite\ndifferent nature. People then regarded each other as brothers because\nthey were of the same blood, descended from the same ancestor. In the\nBible the Hebrews are all descended from Abraham, the Edomites from\nEsau, etc. That is the necessary condition of brotherhood in early\ntimes; only those could join in a religious rite who were of the same\nblood. For men of another blood there was another worship, another\ngod. It is an earlier stage of this view, when men are of the same\nworship because they are descended from the same animal, and when\nthey worship that animal.\n\n[Footnote 1: J. G. Frazer, \"Totemism,\" in the _Encyclopaedia\nBritannica_, vol. xxiii., and now his _Totemism and Exogamy_. It was\nformerly held that the Semites were an exception, having never passed\nthrough the totemistic stage. Mr. Robertson Smith, in his _Religion\nof the Semites_, maintains that, though they are past that stage when\nwe first know them, the traces of it are apparent in their\ninstitutions, and that their sacrifices especially are based on ideas\nbelonging to it. Wellhausen does not agree with him in this.]\n\n[Footnote 2: _Fortnightly Review_, 1869-70. See also Mr. Lang's\n_Myth, Ritual and Religion_ in many passages.]\n\n(_b_) Trees, Wells, Stones.--The worship of each of these three is in\nitself a great subject, and we can do no more than mention the\nleading views which appear to have entered into them. Mannhardt in\nhis _Feld- und Waldkulte_ and Frazer in _The Golden Bough_ have\nstudied the survivals of tree-worship in the local customs of the\npeasantry of Europe. Early man appears to have worshipped trees as\nwonderful living beings; but his thought soon advanced to the\nconception of a tree-spirit, of which the tree itself was either the\nbody or the dwelling, and which possessed various powers, such as\nthat of commanding rain, or that of causing fertility in plants or in\nanimals. From the tree-spirit, again, the tree-god was further\nformed, a being who was able to quit the sacred tree or who presided\nover many trees. Of these beliefs the fast-decaying usages of the\nMaypole and the Harvest May still remind us.\n\nThe well, in a similar manner, may first have been worshipped in and\nfor itself, and then a nymph may have been added to it. The worship\nof wells consisted in throwing precious articles into them, or\nhanging such offerings on the surrounding trees, and asking some boon\nfrom the deity.[3] Rivers and lakes were also held sacred. The\nworship of stones, that is of stones not treated by art, but regarded\nas sacred in the form in which they were found, was widely diffused\namong early races; but this is a subject on which light is still\ncalled for. The Caaba of Mecca and the stone of the temple of Diana\nat Ephesus are famous isolated instances of it; but it has been\nsuggested that the standing stones or menhirs which are found in\nevery part of Europe, and in the south and west of Asia, were objects\nof this worship. In Palestine these stones are not found, though they\noccur in the neighbouring lands; and this is attributed by Major\nConder[4] to the zeal of the orthodox kings, who, we know from the\nBible, destroyed all the monuments of idolatry in their territory.\n\n[Footnote 3: In Mr. G. A. Gomme's _Ethnology in Folklore_ many sacred\nwells are mentioned which are still, or were lately, frequented in\nEngland. St. Wallach's well and bath, in the parish of Glass,\nMorayshire, was much resorted to within living memory.]\n\n[Footnote 4: _Scottish Review_, 1894, vol. xvii. p. 33, \"Rude Stone\nMonuments in Syria.\"]\n\nWhat is common to these cults, and cannot be disregarded, is their\nlocal nature. This gives its colour to all the religion of early man.\nThe god of the sacred tree cannot be worshipped anywhere else than\nwhere the tree stands, and he who would have his wishes granted by\nthe well must come to it. The deity of this kind of religion has his\nabode at a certain spot, and he is a fixed, not a movable deity.\nThere is a story, or a set of stories, connected with his shrine, and\nthere are observances of one kind or another to be done there; and\nthis goes on from age to age. Now a deity who is fixed to one spot\nwill be worshipped by the people who dwell around that spot. The god\nwill have his own people and dwell among them, and they alone will be\nhis worshippers. And thus the surface of the earth comes to be\nparcelled out among a number of deities, each seated, like a little\nprince, at his own court among his own people. In passing from his\nown home to a distant spot, a man will leave the territory of his own\ngod and enter on that of another, and as the god can only be\nworshipped at his own shrine, the man will leave his religion when he\nleaves his home, and either be compelled to serve the gods of\nstrangers, or to perform no religious duties at all.[5] Thus the\nideas connected with totemism meet and harmonise in many old\ncountries with those connected with local shrines.[6] Those dwelling\naround the shrine form a kindred of one blood, of which the local god\nis both the progenitor and the living head. Religion is thus both\nstrictly tribal and strictly local. It is for his brethren of the\ntribe, for those in whose veins the blood of the same divine ancestor\nruns, that a man's enthusiasm is kindled in acts of worship; it is\nhis duty to his clan that he then realises, the prosperity of his\nclan that he desires. To those of other stems no religious bond\nunites him, they are men of another blood, of another worship. His\nreligious duty is to love his neighbour, or fellow-tribesman, to hate\nhis enemy, the man of another tribe. And on the other hand, as\nreligion consists in approaches to a particular spot and the\nperformance of certain rites, it is left behind when these rites are\naccomplished, and the man is away from his god. The sanctuary is\nregarded with extreme veneration, often with shrinking and terror,\nbut distance makes a change, the religion alters with travel, and is\nleft behind. This religion was on the whole a more exciting and\nintense thing than that of the great nature powers; and was far more\ninterwoven with social life; but it also presented the greatest\nobstacles to progress, limiting men's affections to their own kin and\ntheir own land, and confining them in an inveterate conservatism.\n\n[Footnote 5: As illustrating this circle of ideas, compare the\nfollowing passages in the Bible: Genesis xxviii.; Ruth i. 16; 1 Sam.\nxxvi. 19; 2 Kings v. 17; and of a later period, Psalm xlii.]\n\n[Footnote 6: See on this whole subject Mr. Robertson Smith's\n_Religion of the Semites_.]\n\n3. The State after Death.--The belief that the human spirit was not\nextinguished at the death of the body, but entered on an existence\nwithout the body somewhere else, opened the door to a wide range of\nspeculation; and the ideas arrived at by early man as to the place of\nspirits and the life beyond, are a principal part of that antique\nreligion of which the great systems are the heirs. The funeral\npractices of prehistoric times, when various articles were placed in\nthe tomb along with the body of the departed hero or father, and\nvarious sacrifices made to him at his burial or cremation and at\nanniversary festivals afterwards, show that the spirits of the dead\nwere conceived as carrying on the same kind of existence as they had\nled here, though an existence unsubstantial and of little power;\n\"strengthless heads\" Homer calls them. Food and drink were of use to\nthem; for the finer part of it was supposed to reach them. The taste\nof blood revived them; and various pleasures were possible to\nthem.[7] This belief, it will be seen, differs from all the modern\ndoctrines of a continued existence. It is not the resurrection of the\nbody that the savage believes in. He knows well enough that the body\ndoes not rise; but he also knows that the spirit can exist and move\nand do a number of things that were done in life, without the body.\nNor can he be said to believe in the immortality of the soul. That\nterm describes a free and unfettered existence after death, but to\nthe savage the spirit after death has but a troubled and frail\nexistence; it is tethered to certain spots on the earth, known to it\nformerly; it cannot do much, it lives under many limitations and\nconstraints. Nor, again, can it be said that retribution after death\nis a true designation of the early belief. That may be found here and\nthere in early times, but generally the other life is less under a\ndivine government than this one; death takes a man away from his god\nas well as from his family, and the dead are left to themselves.\n\n[Footnote 7: On this subject compare Mr. Tylor's _Primitive Culture_,\ntwelfth and thirteenth chapters.]\n\nWhile, however, this is the general background of primitive belief\nabout the other life, imagination is at work on the subject very\nearly, and various features of that life are touched with more vivid\ncolours, here in one way and there in another. The place where the\ndeparted stay, their occupations, their delights, are variously\ndescribed; the land where they dwell is modelled on a land that is\nknown, with the addition of ideal features; they do very much what\nthey did on earth, hunt or feast, make music or carry on discussions.\nIn some cases there is a judgment-seat before which the soul appears\nfor its trial, and here of course the spirit-world must be divided\ninto two parts or more, for the reception of those who are approved\nand of those who are condemned. The detailed description of the\nabodes of the blest and of the damned, by no means peculiar to\nChristianity, are later developments in the early world. Hell, Mr.\nTylor says, is unknown to savage thought. The doctrine of\ntransmigration, however, whether into plants or into lower animals,\nis of early growth.\n\nGrowth of the Great Religions out of these Beliefs.--These various\ndevelopments of thought about the gods did, as a matter of fact, take\nplace in primitive times, and that is almost all that can be said. In\nthe religion of savages the various elements we have so briefly\nindicated cross and recross each other, in endless combinations; none\nof them is to be found entirely by itself. There is no fetish worship\nwhich is not accompanied by traces of an early belief in great gods;\nthere is no belief in great gods which is not accompanied by a belief\nin lower spirits. With regard to every savage religion the student\nhas to ask what the constituent elements of it are, in what way the\nvarious beliefs of the early world, beliefs arising from such\ndifferent sources, meet in it and combine with one another.\n\nIn each of the higher religions, too, the same questions have to be\nasked. The beliefs which we have sketched are the materials out of\nwhich they also arose. They did not _originate_ the belief in high\ngods with power over nature, nor the belief in the lesser spirits\nwhich busy themselves with man's affairs. They did not originate the\nbelief in a life after death, nor was it left to them to appoint\nsacred seasons in the year, or to consecrate the spots to which\nworship has always clung. All these beliefs are prehistoric, and what\nremained for the great religions was not to bring them forward for\nthe first time, but to surround them with a new kind of authority,\nand to establish as a matter of positive ordinance or revelation what\nhad formerly grown up without any ordinance by the unconscious work\nof custom. It was not left for any of the great founders to plant\nreligion in the world as a new thing, but only to add to the old\nreligion new forms and new sanctions.\n\nIt may be said that if these are the elements of which religion as a\nwhole is made, then religion arose at first out of illusions. That is\nno doubt true, in a sense. It was an illusion on the part of early\nman to suppose that the powers of heaven were animated beings who\ncould be his allies and answer his appeals; it was an illusion to\nthink that the tree or the stone contained a spirit, and an illusion\nto think that men's spirits can go and wander about the earth by\nthemselves, leaving their bodies untenanted. But these illusions were\nafter all only the outward and inadequate expression in which the\nspirit of religion then clothed itself. Religion must always express\nitself in terms of the knowledge which exists in the world at a\nparticular time; and if the knowledge is defective to which the world\nhas attained, religious beliefs must share in its defects. But, on\nthe other hand, religion is something more than knowledge; it is also\nfaith and communion, and these can be deep and true, even when the\nknowledge which provides their forms of expression is greatly\nmistaken. And when the forms of knowledge in which religion has\nclothed itself are found to be mistaken, religion has power to leave\nthem behind and to adopt other forms, as the tree is clothed with\nfresh leaves in place of those which are withered.\n\nYet it would be wrong to admit that even in its character as\nknowledge early religion was illusion and no more. The poetic\nfaculty, the faculty which prompts us to find outside us what we feel\nto be within us and to assert its reality, led man right and not\nwrong. What he worshipped was not the bare object which met the eye\nand ear, but the thing as he conceived it. He conceived that there\nwas without him that of which his inner consciousness bore witness,\nan ideal, a being not grasped by the senses, which could help him,\nwith which he could hold intercourse, which had the power he himself\nhad not. This, not the faulty outward expressions in which the\nsentiment clothed itself, was the living and growing element of his\nreligion.\n\n\nIn addition to the books cited in this chapter, we may mention--\n\nC. Boetticher, _Der Baumkultus der Hellenen_, 1856.\n\nJ. Ferguson, _Tree and Serpent Worship_, 1868.\n\nJ. Ferguson, _Rude Stone Monuments in all Countries_, 1872.\n\nJ. G. Fraser, _Totemism and Exogamy_, 4 vols. 1910. An immense\ncollection of material on the subject of totemism, with fresh\nconclusions as to the origin and meaning of the system.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER V\nEARLY DEVELOPMENTS--PRACTICES\n\n\nIn early religion it is important to remember that belief counted for\nmuch less than it now does; a man's religion consisted in the\nreligious acts he did, and not in the beliefs or thoughts he\ncherished about his god. Worship, moreover, is that element of\nreligion which in all ages and lands is apt to advance most slowly.\nEven in times of ferment of ideas and change of belief, we often see\nthat the worship of a former time, be it simple or stately, goes on\nin its old forms, as if it were a thing that could not change. Men\nalter their beliefs more readily than their habits, especially the\nhabits connected with their faith. If this is the case generally, it\nwas much more the case in the early world than it is now. The\nreligion of a shrine in old times consisted of a certain story about\nthe god, and certain acts done before or near the object which\nrepresented him. There was no compulsion, however, to believe the\nstory if a man did the acts or took part in them. As to his private\nbeliefs no one inquired; if he took part in the proper acts of\nworship he counted as a religious man, unless he went so far as\nopenly to flout the current opinions of his time.\n\nNor were the acts which went to make up religion of an elaborate or\ndifficult nature. No minute ritual regulated in early times the\napproaches to the deity; they were a matter of common knowledge, and\nwere fixed not by law, which did not yet exist in any form, but by\npublic custom and public opinion. The manner in which a god is to be\nserved is known of course to his own people who dwell around him;\nothers do not know it. The immigrants from Assyria had to send for a\nHebrew to teach them the ritual of the God of Palestine, as they were\non his ground and did not know the right way to worship Him (2 Kings\nxvii. 24 _sqq._). It is later that the rite becomes a mystery, known\nonly to the professional guardian of the shrine or to the initiated\nfew.\n\nSacrifice is an invariable feature of early religion. Wherever gods\nare worshipped, gifts and offerings are made to them of one kind or\nanother. It is in this way that, in antiquity at least, the relation\nwith the deity was renewed, if it had been slackened or broken, or\nstrengthened and made sure. Sacrifice and worship are in the ancient\nworld identical terms. The nature of the offering and the mode of\npresenting it are infinitely various, but there is always sacrifice\nin one form or another. Different deities of course receive different\ngifts; the tree has its roots watered, or trophies of battle or of\nthe chase are hung upon its branches; horses are thrown into the sea.\nBut of primitive sacrifice generally we may affirm that it consists\nof such food and drink as men themselves partake of. Whether it be\nthe fruit of the field or the firstling of the flock that is offered\nat the sacred stone, whether the offering is burnt before the god or\nset down and left near him, or whether he is summoned to come down\nfrom the sky or to travel from the far country to which he may have\ngone, it is of the materials of a meal that the sacrifice consists.\nIn some cases it appears to be thought that the god consumes the\noffering, as when Fire is worshipped with offerings which he burns\nup, or when a fissure in the earth closes upon a victim; but in most\ncases it is only the spirit or finer essence of the sacrifice that\nthe god enjoys; the rest he leaves to men. And thus sacrifice is\ngenerally accompanied by a meal. The offering is presented to the god\nwhole, but the worshippers help to eat it. The god gets the savour of\nit which rises into the air towards him, while the more material part\nis devoured below. Every sacrifice is also a festival.[1] If this be\nthe case it is unnecessary to spend much time in considering a number\nof theories formerly regarded with favour as to the original meaning\nand intention of sacrifice. The view that it is originally simply a\nbribe to the deity to induce him to afford some needed help, receives\na good deal of countenance from primitive expressions. \"_Do ut des_,\"\n\"I give to thee that thou mayest give to me.\" \"Here is butter, give\nus cows!\" \"By gifts are the gods persuaded, by gifts great kings.\"\nWas early sacrifice then simply a business transaction, in which man\nbringing a prayer to the deity brought a gift too, as he was\naccustomed to do to the great ones of the earth, in order that the\ndeity might be well disposed towards him and grant his petition? Even\nif this was the case, if sacrifice were offered with the direct and\nalmost the avowed intention of getting good value for it, yet if it\ntakes the form of a meal, it is lifted above the most sordid form of\nbribery. There is a difference between slipping money into a man's\nhand and asking him to dinner, even if the object aimed at be in both\ncases the same; and when the invitations are numerous and formal,\nthere must be a moral, not an immoral, relation between the two\nparties. Where the sacrifice is a meal, intercourse is sought for; a\ncertain sympathy exists between worshipper and worshipped; they stand\nto each other not only in the relation of briber and bribed, buyer\nand seller, but in that of patron and client, or of father and son.\n\n[Footnote 1: Mr. Tylor (_Prim. Cult._ vol. ii. p. 397) states that\n\"sacrifices to deities, from the lowest to the highest levels of\nculture, consist, to the extent of nine-tenths or more, of gifts of\nfood and sacred banquets.\"]\n\nBut granting that early sacrifice was for the most part a meal, an\nobservance, with a social element in it, between the god and the\nworshipper, what was the object of this meal, what was the motive for\nholding it? In some cases it looks as if the intention had been to\nstrengthen the god, and to make him more vigorous, so that he might\nbe able to do what was wanted of him. In the Vedic hymns this motive\nundeniably is to be met with. The notion is by no means unknown in\nearly thought, that not only does man need God, but that God is also\ndependent on man, and capable of being aided and encouraged. In rites\nwhich are not strictly sacrifices, we notice men seeking to\nsympathise with their gods in what the gods are doing, and to take a\nshare in it by doing similar things themselves. The Christmas and\nEaster fires in pagan times connected with the worship of the sun,\nare examples of this, and many other instances might be cited.\n\nThis, however, is not the principal motive of early sacrifice. All\nthe incidents of it suggest that it is not merely a thing offered to\nthe deity, but a thing in which man takes part; if it is a meal, it\nis one of which the god and the worshippers partake in common. In\nChina the ancestors are invited to the family feast; their place is\nset for them; their share in the feast is placed before them. In the\n_Iliad_,[2] we have an account of a solemn religious act: after\nprayers the victims were slaughtered, choice slices were cut from\nthem and cooked at the fire by the worshippers, who then ate and\ndrank their fill; after this \"all day long they worshipped the god\nwith music, singing the beautiful paean to Apollo, and his heart was\nglad to hear.\" In the Bible we know that the blood is poured out for\nthe Deity, and in various sacrifices the parts He is to have are\nspecified, while the rest is to be eaten by the priests. In the\nearlier sacrifices of the Hebrews there are no priests; those who\npresent the sacrifice consume it after the act of presentation, and\nthe occasion is one of mirth and jollity, as at a banquet (1 Sam. ix.\n12, 13, and the following description; see also Exod. xxxii. 5, 6).\nIn fact it is a banquet. This is specially plain in the sacrifices of\nthe Semites, as Mr. Robertson Smith has shown. Early Semitic usage\nexhibits clearly how sacrifice was an act of communion, in which the\ngod and his human family proclaimed and renewed their unity with each\nother. The details may differ in other races, but in general it may\nbe said that early sacrifice was an act done not by an individual,\nthough plenty of individual sacrifices are also to be met with, but\nby a tribe, in which all the partakers of the blood of the tribe took\npart before the god who was their common ancestor, and who, as it\nwere, presided over and shared in their feast. In some cases of\ntotem-clans the totem animal is sacrificed, and all the members of\nthe clan eat their animal ancestor (only on such a solemn occasion\ncould the totem be eaten), and so renew their bond of membership and\nbrotherhood. A covenant is made by sacrifice, to which the deity and\nall the members of his people are parties.\n\n[Footnote 2: I. 457 _sqq._]\n\nTo these primitive conceptions others no doubt should be added. The\nmood was not always the same which prevailed when the tribe renewed\nits union with its god; that depended on circumstances. In general\nthe sacrifice of early days is a joyous thing, but to a fierce god\ncruel rites belonged. When cannibalism was practised it also was such\na primitive sacrifice, and the most powerful means, no doubt, of\ncementing the union of the god with the members of the tribe. When\nthe god was noted for suffering, a tragic tone prevailed, and the\nsacrifice might have a dramatic character and represent the leading\nincident in the history of the god.\n\nIf we trace the history of sacrifice in any particular people we find\ntwo opposite tendencies at work in connection with it. On the one\nhand there is a disposition to smooth matters, to drop the harsher\npractices, to let an animal victim suffice where a man used to be\nsacrificed, to let the man off with some slight mutilation, such as\ncircumcision; or to allow poor people to offer a less costly victim\nthan the former custom claimed--the rite, in fact, becomes civilised,\nand adapts itself to the feelings of a humaner period. On the other\nhand there is a tendency to add to the value of the offerings, and to\nreckon the efficacy of sacrifice by its cost and painfulness. In\nperiods of outward distress sacrifice attains a deeper earnestness,\nnothing is to be left undone, and no cost to be spared to bring the\ndeity back to his people; darker customs which had become obsolete\nare revived again,[3] the ceremonial is made more elaborate, new\nkinds of sacrifice are introduced. The old social aspect of sacrifice\ngrows faint; it becomes a propitiation or a trespass-offering; the\nnotion is entertained that sacrifice is the more efficacious the more\nit has cost, or the more magnificent and awful its mode of\npresentation.\n\n[Footnote 3: An instance of human sacrifice has just taken place in a\nremote part of Russia.]\n\nPrayer is the ordinary concomitant of sacrifice; the worshipper\nexplains the reason of the gift, and urges the deity to accept it,\nand to grant the help that is needed. The prayers of the earliest\nstage are offered on emergencies, and often appear to be intended to\nattract the attention of the god who may be engaged in another\ndirection. The requests they contain are of the most primary sort.\nFood is asked for, success in hunting or fishing, strength of arm,\nrain, a good harvest, children, etc. The prayers have a ring of\nurgency; they state the claims the worshipper has on the god, and\nmention his former offerings as well as the present one; they praise\nthe power and the past acts of the deity, and adjure him by his whole\nrelationship to his people (and also to their enemies) to grant their\nrequests. As life grows more secure, the note of immediate urgency\nfades out of prayer; being a feature not of an occasional worship\narising from some pressing need, but of a worship statedly offered at\nset times, it tends to run into forms, and to become fixed and to\nhave the nature of a liturgy. Then it comes about that the words\nthemselves are regarded as sacred, and that the efficacy of the\nsacrifice is supposed to be partly dependent on them. They are\nincantations which the deity cannot resist,--charms which in\nthemselves have virtue to secure the desired result.\n\nSacred Places, Objects, Persons.--The early world had no temples, nor\nidols, nor priests. The worship of nature does not suggest the\nenclosing of a space for religious acts. The natural object itself\nbeing the sacred thing, worship is brought to it where it stands; the\ngift is carried to the tree or to the well, and if the deities are\nconceived as being above the earth, then the tops of hills are the\nspots where man can be nearest to them. High places are sacred in all\nlands. Groves and remote spots are also sacred. When man was carrying\non his struggle with the wild beasts he would regard with terror the\nplaces where they had their lairs and strongholds; it was in this\nform that the feeling of mystery with which moderns regard places\nwhere they are cut off from all human intercourse, first appealed to\nman. After this earliest stage had passed, and the grove had come to\nbe regarded as the dwelling of a deity, it became a place man did not\ndare to approach except with the necessary precautions. We may here\nexplain a notion which plays a great part in early religion, but is\nnot specially connected with any one institution of it, the notion,\nnamely, of taboo. Taboo is a Polynesian term, and indicates that\nwhich man must not use or touch, because it belongs to a deity. The\ngod's land must not be trodden, the animal dedicated to the god must\nnot be eaten, the chief who represents the god must not be lightly\ntreated or spoken of. These are examples of taboo where the\ninviolable object or person belongs to a good god, and where the\ntaboo corresponds exactly with the rule of holiness.[4] But instances\nare still more numerous among savages of taboo attaching to an object\nbecause it is connected with a malignant power. The savage is\nsurrounded on every side by such prohibitions; there is danger at\nevery step that he may touch on what is forbidden to him, and draw\ndown on himself unforeseen penalties. The nature of the early deities\nalso excludes idolatry in connection with them; there is no need for\na representation of a being who is visibly present, and can be\nextolled and worshipped in his own person. It was at a later stage,\nwhen the god came to be personified and separated in thought from his\nnatural basis, that the need arose to make representations of him to\naid the imagination. The stones of early religion are not idols. They\nare natural, not artificial stones; they are not images of the god,\nbut the god himself, or at least that in which the divine spirit\ndwells,[5] or with which it associates itself for the purpose of\nworship. And, further, the earliest time knows no priests; there is\nno special class to whom alone the celebration of sacrifice is\nentrusted. It would be quite inconsistent with the whole view of\nsacrifice which then prevailed, to suppose that it could be done by\nproxy. It was a man's own act, by which he identified himself with\nhis god and with his tribe, and that could only be done by a personal\nservice. We often find kings and chiefs sacrificing. Agamemnon does\nso, Abraham and Saul do so, though the sacrifice of the latter is\ndisapproved of by the priestly writer. David does so without being\nrebuked for it. The king or chief does this as the natural head of\nhis clan; some one must take the leading part in the transaction. As\nreligion is the principal part of politics, and the first business of\nthe state is to keep itself right with the gods, the head of the\nstate is its most natural representative on such an occasion. The\nhead of a household also sacrifices for his house, not only to the\nspirits of the house, but in cases like that of Job, where there is\nno question of ancestor-worship. Early custom did not fix in any\nuniform manner by whose hands a sacrifice was to be made.\n\n[Footnote 4: _Religion of the Semites_, by W. R. Smith, p. 142,\n_sqq._]\n\n[Footnote 5: _Religion of the Semites_, by W. R. Smith, p. 192.]\n\nMagic.--In another direction, however, we see in the earliest times\nthe growth of a class of persons with religious functions and\nattributes. While the ordinary worship of the gods does not require\nthe services of any special class, there is everywhere found the man\nof special knowledge and gifts, to whom men resort for needs lying\noutside the scope of that worship. Every savage religion contains a\ncertain amount of magic, of practices, that is to say, by which it is\nthought possible to influence or to foretell outward events. Early\nman is not limited in his views of what may happen by any accurate\nknowledge of natural laws, or of the sequence of cause and effect,\nand he imagines it possible to influence nature in various ways. He\nimitates what he supposes to be the causes of things, judging that\nthe effect will also follow; or he uses such powers as he may have\nover spirits, to induce or compel them to accomplish his wishes; or\nhe manipulates objects he believes to have a hidden virtue, in a way\nhe believes calculated to bring about the desired result. Magic is\nthus related both to the cult of spirits and to that of casual\nobjects, both to animism and to fetishism. There is generally a\nspecial person in a tribe who knows these things, and is able to work\nthem. It may be the chief or king,--there are many instances in which\nthe chief is believed to have power to bring rain,--or it may be a\nseparate functionary, medicine-man, sorcerer, diviner, seer, or\nwhatever name be given him. He has more power over spirits than other\nmen have, and is able to make them do what he likes. He can heal\nsickness, he can foretell the future, he can change a thing into\nsomething else, or a man into a lower animal or a tree, or anything;\nhe can also assume such transformations himself at will. He uses\nmeans to bring about such results; he knows about herbs, he has\nstones or other objects endowed with special virtues, he also has\nrecourse to rubbing, to making images of affected parts of the body,\nand to various other arts. Very frequently he is regarded as\ninspired. It is the spirit dwelling in him which brings about the\nwonderful results; without the spirit he could not do anything. While\nthe details of course vary infinitely in different tribes, the figure\nof the worker of magic is an essential feature of any general sketch\nof early religion. He is often a person of great political\nimportance; being supposed to be in closer alliance than any one else\nwith spiritual beings, he has a power which is much dreaded, and\nwhich even the chief cannot disregard.\n\nOf Sacred Seasons there can be but few in the earliest human life,\nwhen there is no fixed measure of time, nor any notion of regularity,\nbut all depends on the occurrence of need and of danger. As soon as\nagriculture was engaged in, however, attention must have been fixed\non the recurrence of the seasons, and the measures of time afforded\nby the moon must, at least, have been observed. The summer and the\nwinter solstice, the equinoxes, the new moons, these were to the\nearly cultivator epochs to be observed; and certain annual feasts are\nfound to have come into use in very early times, epochs of man's\nsimplest and earliest calendar, and occasions for tribal gatherings\nand for such fixed religious observances as we have described. A\nprivate religious emergency arising in the interval between two\nfeasts is dealt with by means of a vow; the help of the deity, that\nis to say, is claimed at once, but the payment of the due\nconsideration for it on man's part is deferred till the time of\nsacrifice comes round.[6]\n\n[Footnote 6: Genesis xxviii. 20; Judges xi. 30; 2 Sam. xv. 8.]\n\nCharacter of Early Religion.--We have now passed in review the\nprincipal observances and usages of primitive religion; but before\nconcluding this chapter some remarks have to be made as to the\nposition religion held in the life of ancient times, and as to the\nspirit and temper which it exhibited. In the first place, as we\nremarked above, religion was in these times the most important branch\nof the public service. Every uncommon occurrence had to be laid\nbefore the god, and no important step could be taken without\nconsulting him; and it was a principal duty of the head of the state\nto keep the god on good terms with the tribe, and to apply to him for\nall the aid and protection the tribe required from him. In attending\nto this, however, the chief was acting for his tribesmen; where there\nwas no chief these matters were not neglected, but were looked after\nby common spontaneous action by the members of the tribe. The god was\ntheir lord, their father, and they must always take him along with\nthem. This identification of the god with the interests of his\nsubjects is so close that the latter are troubled with no doubts as\nto whether or not their god is with them. If they observe the\ncustomary rules for cultivating his friendship, he must be with them;\nthey never imagine that he can be estranged from them. It is the\nhabitual attitude of early religion to take it for granted that the\ngod goes with his people (he generally has no other people to go\nwith) and helps them against their adversaries. To doubt this and to\nresort to sacrifices of atonement to bring him back from his\nestrangement is a later stage of religion. But if religion is in this\nway a public matter, a matter of the tribe and its concerns, what\nplace is there in it for the individual? Individual cares and needs\nmay form the subject of prayers and vows, but religion on the whole\nhas to do with the tribe, not with the individual, or with the\nindividual only as a member of the tribe. It is the duty of every one\nto take his part in the public approaches to the god; he must either\ndo so or be cut off from his tribe. For his own griefs there is\nlittle comfort in the tribal worship; indeed, personal sorrows and\nperplexities meet with but little consideration in early religion. As\nthe tribe is in no doubt of the goodwill of its god, and regards him\nas a firm ally not easily turned away, old religion has a confident\nand joyous air, strongly contrasting with the doubts and the\ncontrition of modern faith. The acts of worship are feasts at which\nthe members of the tribe rejoice and make merry before their god. To\nthe delights of feasting those of dance and song are added (\"The\npeople sat down to eat and drink, and rose up to play\"), and\nfrequently the merrymaking goes to the pitch of frenzy; the\nworshippers dance themselves into an ecstasy; they feel the god\ntaking possession of them, and are hurried along by the sacred\ninspiration to behaviour they would not dream of at any other time.\n\nEarly Religion and Morality.--How did this early religion bear upon\nmorality? In how far was it a power for righteousness? There are two\nsides to this question. In the first place, the religion of the\ninfant world was a strong influence for the restraint of individual\nexcess. The god being the parent of the tribe, its customs had his\nsanction, he had no higher interest than its welfare, he was\nidentified with all its enterprises, its battles were his battles\nalso. The worship of the god therefore made strongly for loyalty to\nthe tribe, and for the observance of its customs; it caused a man to\nforget his own interest where that of the tribe was concerned, and\nunhesitatingly to sacrifice himself for the public cause. But, on the\nother hand, primitive religion was an intensely conservative force;\nit subjected the whole life to the customs of the tribe, and\ndiscouraged spontaneity and independence in moral action. The duties\nit prescribed were of a conventional order; a man had no duties to\nthose beyond his tribe, and to his fellow-tribesmen religion bade him\nrather walk by rule than consult his own feelings. Of the morality\nwhich consists in discipline and subordination to the community,\nearly religion was an efficient school; to the higher morality, the\nlaw of which is found written in the heart, and which aims at\nrendering higher services than those of custom, it did not attain.\nThe worship of the higher nature-powers, the heavenly powers of light\nand kindness, tending as it did to transcend the limits of place and\nof nationality, was destined powerfully to foster a more generous\nmorality than that of the tribal worship, and this tendency was no\ndoubt dimly felt by early man long before it was possible for him to\nfollow it.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VI\nNATIONAL RELIGION\n\n\nWe now leave behind us the beliefs and practices of savage and\nbarbarous tribes, and turn to those of mighty empires. The gulf which\nlies between these two parts of our subject is obviously a wide one;\nand in many instances there is no bridge by which the student can\npass from one to the other. Often it is a matter of inference rather\nthan of direct proof that the great systems are built out of the\nmaterials accumulated, as we have seen, in the prehistoric period.\nBut the inference is sufficiently strong to rest upon; in some cases\nwe are able to see quite clearly how the religion of the empire arose\nby an uninterrupted growth out of that of the tribe; and in the cases\nwhere this cannot be so fully made out, we yet judge that the result\ncame about in a similar way. We pause therefore at this point to ask\nwhat is the nature of the transition at which we have arrived, or, in\nother words, what constitutes the difference between the primitive\nand the later religions? The difference is probably not one of\nmagnitude only; it consists not merely in the fact that the religion\nof the empire is that of a much larger number of people than that of\nthe tribe; there is a difference in character as well as in\ndimensions. With a view to the examination of this point it will be\nfound convenient to consider some of the proposed classifications of\nreligions, as most of these, though for different reasons, place the\nreligions of the early world in a different category from those known\nto us historically.\n\nThe old-fashioned Classification of Religions was that of the true\nand the false. This our principle forbids us to accept, since we\nregard the various faiths of the world as stages in the development\nof religion, and therefore all relatively true.\n\nAnother division which has done good service is that into natural and\nrevealed religion. By natural religion has generally been understood\nsuch religion as human reason could attain to without supernatural\naid. But this description does not apply to any religious system that\never prevailed largely in any country; the actual religions have all\nbeen the work of custom and age-long tradition, not of the deliberate\noperation of reason. Natural religion therefore is a term which is of\nno use to us in classification; since none of the actual religions\nwhich we have to study answers to that title. Nor is revealed\nreligion a term we can conveniently use in such a work as this. Many\nreligions claim to be the result of revelation, but few make it at\nthe outset of their career. The title tells us nothing about the\noriginal character of a religion, but only that at some period in its\ncareer the claim was made for it that its origin was supernatural. If\nwe grouped the revealed religions together we might find that the\nmembers of the group had no similarity to each other beyond the\naccidental circumstance that the claim of revelation had been made\nfor them. Besides, science cannot possibly take the revealed\ncharacter of any religion for granted, but must examine each such\nfaith to see if its growth cannot be accounted for without that\nassumption.\n\nThe term \"natural\" religion has, however, other meanings than that\njust mentioned, and some of these we may find to be of more service.\nIt is proposed to divide religions into \"natural\" and \"positive,\" or\ninto those which have grown up and those which have been founded. The\nearlier religions were not due to the personal action of outstanding\nindividuals (at least if they were, as surely they must have been in\npart, the individuals and their struggles are unrecorded), but were\nthe work of unconscious growth, and were produced by forces, which,\nas they were at work in every part of the early world, may be called\nnatural. These religions do not appeal to the authority of any\nfounder, but are borne forward by custom and tradition. Some of the\nlater systems, on the contrary, bear the names of their founders, and\nare said to have been introduced into the world at a certain time and\nplace. Their beginning is fixed, and they have a body of beliefs and\npractices which belong to their original constitution, and possess\nauthority for all subsequent generations of believers.\n\nThis classification promises well at first, but it is difficult to\napply it; some religions pass imperceptibly from the stage of custom\nto that of statute, and in many religions both elements are so\nlargely present that it is difficult to strike the balance between\nthem. We are led to the conclusion that the real difference between\nthe earlier and the later religions is a more vital one than any of\nthese classifications would indicate. The authority and the positive\ncharacter of the later systems is a symptom of the change which has\nproduced them, but the change itself lies deeper. The higher form of\nreligion is due to a great step which has been taken in civilisation;\nit is one of the features of the advance of society to a new stage.\n\nRise of National Religion.--It is an immense step in human progress\nwhen a set of barbarous tribes unite to form a nation. Under the\nstrong hand of some chief or under the pressure of some great\nnecessity, they give up the isolation which is both the weakness and\nthe strength of the tribal state of society, they choose some strong\nplace for their centre, they submit to a common government, and while\nstill remembering their separate tribal traditions and usages, they\nlearn to act as members of a greater community than the tribe. This\nis the beginning of civilisation proper. Law takes the place of\ncustom; the state undertakes to punish crime, and private vengeance\nis discouraged; the state also undertakes the protection of the weak,\nso that humane sentiment appears, and a security is engendered in\nwhich the arts and sciences can spring up and flourish.\n\nWhen this takes place a new type of religion also makes its\nappearance. While each of the tribes may long retain its own gods,\nand its peculiar rites, some one god, perhaps the god of the\nstrongest tribe, assumes a higher position than the rest; his worship\nbecomes the central religion of the community, round which the other\nworships arrange themselves by degrees, until there comes to be a\nsystem embracing them all, but itself possessing a new character. In\nthis way a national religion comes into existence. The details of\nthis process are in every case beyond our observation. It is not\nperhaps for centuries after the national religion has come into\noperation, that reflection is turned towards it; not till the art of\nwriting has come to some perfection is it described and formulated\nand made statutory; and by that time all accurate memory of its\nbeginnings has faded away, and its origin is explained instead by a\nset of legends. But though its beginnings, like all beginnings, are\nobscure, the national religion is there. It has its history; the\ngreat man who brought the tribes together, or who first devised for\nthem a higher form of worship, is remembered as its founder; the\nfoundation is ascribed to the inspiration of the chief god himself;\nits sacred forms are written down and obtain the force of divine\nlaws, the will of the deity is a thing clearly known and expressed in\npositive terms.\n\nIt is not asserted that this description will apply to the origin of\nall the national religions; the character and the circumstances of\none nation differ from those of another, and it need not be supposed\nthat they all reached their state worships in the same way. Some\nreligions have become national by conquest rather than growth; while\nsome which may truly be called national never attained to any\nnational organisation. The process we have described, however, may be\nregarded as the typical one for the rise of a national out of tribal\nreligions, and indicates to us what we may regard as the real and\nsubstantial difference between the stage with which we have been\noccupied and that to which we are now to turn. All other differences\nbetween the prehistoric and the historical religions may be traced to\nthis one. Before the religion of a nation has systematised its\ndoctrine and its ritual so as to merit the name of positive, before\nit has provided itself with a detailed ritual or a fixed creed, or a\nregular priesthood, or a set of sacred books, the momentous step has\nalready been taken, the new form of religious consciousness has\nappeared. Men have begun to believe not only in the tribal but in the\nnational god or gods, and a national religion has come into\nexistence.\n\nThe advance from tribal to national worship is one of the most\nmomentous in the whole history of religion. The nature of the change\ninvolved in it may be summed up as follows.\n\n1. Men obtain a Greater God than they had before. Formerly a man\nbelieved in the god of his tribe, one deity among many, as his tribe\nwas one among many, each having its own god; but now he comes to know\na god who is higher than the other tribal gods, as the king whom the\ntribes have united to obey is greater than the tribal chiefs. The god\nstands at a greater distance than before from the worshipper;\nfamiliarity is lessened, and religion becomes capable of a deeper\nreverence and adoration. Although the worship of the tribal god is\nstill kept up, yet if the new-born national consciousness is strong,\nthe national form of religion rather than the tribal will determine\nthe religious sentiment of the individual.\n\n2. New Social Bond.--The nature of the social force exerted by\nreligion is altogether changed. In tribal religion the tie of the\nworshippers both to their god and to each other is that of blood; the\ngod is their common lineal ancestor, whose blood is in the veins of\nall the tribesmen. The social bond supplied by such a religion is\nlimited to the members of the tribe; a man's fellow-tribesmen are his\nbrothers, but all other men are his enemies; with them he is at war\nas his god is. Social duty is a matter of blood relationship, and\nextends only to the kindred. When a national religion is arrived at,\na social obligation of a new kind will evidently make its appearance.\nThe national god is related by blood to only one of the tribes\ncomposing the nation; the bond between him and the other tribes must\nbe of another nature. He has conquered their gods or they have\nvoluntarily accepted him as their chief god; in any case it is not\nthe tie of blood that binds them to him, but some more ideal tie,\nlike that between a king and his subjects, or between a patron and\nhis clients. And they now have a religious connection also with men\nwho are not their kindred. The national worship is inconsistent with\nthe gross materialism of the system of kinship, and places instead of\nit the belief in a god further above the world, and therefore more\nspiritual, and obligations to men which, as they are not derived from\na common blood, are somewhat more purely moral.\n\n3. A Better God.--The new god of the nation as he is higher above the\nworld is a being of higher and better character. He belongs to all\nthe tribes, and is not the mere partisan of any; like the king, he is\nabove tribal jealousies, and is interested in checking the violence\nof all, and securing justice to all. He may be appealed to by those\nwho have suffered violence and who have no earthly helper; and thus\nhe tends to become an ideal of justice and fatherly kindness, and to\nreflect in the world above the sentiments springing up in the world\nbelow, in favour of the repression of violence and the administration\nof even-handed justice.\n\nIn these directions the religion of the nation tends to rise above\nthat of the tribe. The tribal worships may continue almost as they\nwere, the tribal gods may still be worshipped, the tribal jealousies\nand conflicts still be carried on in spite of the new union, and all\nthe superstitions of early religion may long survive; yet a new\nreligious force has appeared which will in time produce a complete\nnew system. The true principle of classification, therefore, must be\ndrawn from the difference between tribal and national religion, as\nthis is the most vital difference, and that from which all the others\nwhich we mentioned may be derived.\n\nThe transition thus sketched took place at widely different periods\nin different parts of the world; it began early and has taken place\neven in modern times, while very many tribes in various parts of the\nglobe have not yet arrived at it. It is a transition of which it is\nmanifestly impossible to exhibit the detail; in most cases the detail\nis not known, and it were a profitless task to trace how primitive\nreligions met, united or remained apart, and how their crossings in\none case led to a national religion, and in many others led to no\nsuch result. Much, no doubt, is to be found on such points in special\nworks, and much still remains to be discovered. Various instances of\nthe formation of national religions will meet us in our subsequent\nchapters.\n\nThe Inca Religion.--We give, however, at this point an example of the\ntransition we have described, drawn from a quarter remote from the\ngreat movements of history, and in which the facts are plain and\nuncontested. Of the two great civilised communities of the New World,\ndiscovered by the Spaniards in the sixteenth century, Mexico presents\na worship compounded of many elements, which, along with high and\nlofty morality and great magnificence of ritual, yet retains an\nextraordinary amount of cruelty and savage horror. In Peru, however,\nwe find a state religion which superseded savage cults still\nremembered in the country, and from the _Royal Commentaries of the\nIncas_, written by the Inca Garcilaso de la Vega in the beginning of\nthe seventeenth century,[1] we are able to describe the religion of\nPeru both before and after the Inca reformation.\n\n[Footnote 1: Printed by the Hakluyt Society.]\n\n\"Before the Incas,\" this writer tells us, \"each province, each\nnation, and each house had its own gods, different from one another,\nfor they thought that a stranger's god could not attend to them but\nonly their own.\" They worshipped all manner of deities; of these are\nmentioned herbs, plants, flowers, all kinds of trees, high hills,\ngreat rocks, and the chinks in them; caves, pebbles, emeralds. They\nalso worshipped animals; the tiger, the lion, and the bear for their\nfierceness, and the monkey for his cunning; these they did not kill,\nbut went down on the ground to worship them and would even suffer\nthemselves to be devoured by them, since they regarded these animals\nas their own ancestors. All kinds of animals they treated in this\nway; there was not an animal, how filthy and vile soever, so the\nquaint words tell us, they did not look on as a god. Other Indians,\nagain, worshipped things from which they derived benefit, such as\ngreat fountains and rivers; some worshipped the earth, and called it\nmother, because it yielded their fruits; some the sea, calling it\nMamacocha; and a great number of other objects of adoration are\nmentioned. They sacrificed animals and maize, but also men and women,\nand these not only captives taken in war but also their own children,\nsmearing the idol with the blood. (In other quarters of the globe\nthis is a symbolic act showing that the idol and the worshippers all\npartake in the same life.) Some tribes were fiercer than others, and\npractised cannibalism more extensively. They were also well provided\nwith sorcerers and witches.\n\nAll this the Incas altered. They were a princely family, regarding\nwhose origin and accession to power various legends are told; the god\nthey worshipped was the sun, and they considered and called\nthemselves the children of the sun. Their father the sun, they said,\nhad sent their forefathers to teach the tribes various things they\nvery much needed to learn; to cultivate the fields, to breed flocks,\nto live in peace, to respect the wives and daughters of others, and\nto have no more than one wife. The Incas knew better, it was said,\nthan the rest how to choose a god, and they declared that men should\nworship the sun, who gave light and heat and made things grow; they\nshould be grateful for his benefits, and he would reward them if they\nwere obedient. The Indians accordingly took the sun for their god\n\"without father or brothers\"; they considered the moon to be his\nsister and wife, but did not worship her. Besides this, we hear the\nIncas sought a supreme god, and called him \"Pachacamac,\" that is\n\"soul of the world.\" This being gave life to the world and supported\nit, but they did not build temples to him or offer him any sacrifice;\nthey worshipped him in their hearts as an unknown god.\n\nThe practice of the Inca religion as described to us by several\nSpanish writers falls a good deal short of this doctrine. Many beings\nwere worshipped besides the sun; a number of prayers were addressed\nto the Creator and the sun and thunder. Many sacred objects also were\nadored, such as embalmed bodies of ancestors and various idols. They\npractised all kinds of magic, and, worst of all, many boys and girls\nwere offered in sacrifice, even before the Incas and on great public\noccasions. The reformation of the Incas is evidently not complete; if\nit had not been arrested by the arrival of the Spaniards it may be\nthat the purifying agency of the new religion would have found much\nstill to do. Enough, however, is seen to afford strong confirmation\nof the principle that religion gains infinitely in elevation when a\nnational worship appears. The Incas were no doubt the heads of a\ntribe which had conquered others, and imposed its religion on them.\nThe lesser conquered worships do not die out at once, but continue\nalong with the central one. But the latter expresses the national\nspirit and aspirations; and, as settled life fosters the growth of\nintelligence and of public spirit, the central worship must more and\nmore supersede the others, while itself casting off its superstitious\nand backward elements and becoming reasonable and elevating.\n\nIt will be convenient to indicate at this stage the further line of\nstudy to be followed in this volume. As it is our aim to trace,\nhowever inadequately, the growth of the religion of the world as a\nwhole, it is necessary that we should confine ourselves to those\nparts of religious history which lie in the line of that growth, or\nwhich serve in a conspicuous manner to illustrate the principles\naccording to which it has taken place. It is by no means our purpose\nto give an account of all the religions of the world, nor do we seek\nto form a complete magazine of the curious phenomena with which this\nvast field of study is in every part so well supplied. If we have\ninterposed the foregoing brief account of the religion of the Incas,\nit is not because of its own intrinsic importance, but because it\nsupplies within so brief a compass such an apt example of that\nprocess which occurs so often in the growth of religion, by which the\nunorganised rites of a multitude of clans and families give way when\nthe nation comes into being, to the higher and better religion of the\nstate. In the same way the great religions of which we must next\nspeak have, no doubt, only a loose connection with the central line\nof the world's religious progress. No work professing to deal ever so\ncursorily with our subject could omit to deal with the religion of\nChina nor with that of Egypt; yet neither of these faiths perhaps has\npermanently enriched the religious consciousness of mankind. The\nreligion of Babylonia, with which each of these is connected, was\nalso of isolated and independent growth, and is far away from us both\nin time and in historical connection. Like great and solitary\nmountains of ancient formation, each on a continent distant from\nours, these faiths attract us not because we depend on them, but\nbecause they are interesting in themselves. It was out of the same\njungle of primitive beliefs and rites, out of which our own religion\nhas at length grown, that each of these lifted its head to such\nheights as it attained.\n\nAfter disposing of these great systems we come to the developments,\nmuch later in point of time, which have led to the highest religion\nyet attained. And here two great races or groups of peoples have to\nbe considered, each in its own way singularly gifted and each\ncontributing in a distinctive manner to the growth of religion. These\nare the Semitic and the Indo-European families. Under each of these\nheads we find several well-marked religions; and the nature of the\ncase itself points out our further procedure. Taking up first the\nSemitic group,--including Islam,--since this part of the subject lies\nat a greater distance from ourselves, we shall inquire whether there\nis any common element in the various religions it comprises, or, in\nother words, if there is a Semitic religion which may be regarded as\nthe origin from which the Semitic religions alike sprang, and which\ngave them a common character; and we shall then proceed to discuss\nthe Semitic religions each by itself. We shall then discuss the\ncommon belief of the Aryans, and go on to the religions of the more\nimportant Aryan nations. Our last chapters will deal with\nChristianity and will point out the nature of development which our\nstudy as a whole may have taught us to recognise in the religion of\nmankind.\n\n\nBOOKS RECOMMENDED\n\nOn the classification of Religions see Tiele's article on \"Religion\"\nin the _Encyclopaedia Britannica_, Ninth Edition.\n\nAlb. Reville, Lectures on the Origin and Growth of Religion as\nillustrated by the Native Religions of Mexico and Peru. _Hibbert\nLectures_, 1884.\n\nDe la Saussaye, Third Edition, pp. 5-16, gives a good conspectus of\nthe various classifications which have been proposed.\n\n\n\n\nPART II\nISOLATED NATIONAL RELIGIONS\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VII\nBABYLON AND ASSYRIA\n\n\nThe religion of Babylonia, of which that of Assyria is a late form,\nas the Assyrians appropriated all they could of the religion and the\nliterature of this southern empire which they conquered, cannot be\nclassed along with any other without some inconvenience. In point of\nremoteness in time it takes precedence even of the religions of China\nand of Egypt; like these great faiths it also is, in its earlier\nstage, a growth by itself in a land and people of its own, where\napparently it grew up independently from rude beginnings. It is\nundoubtedly one of the Semitic religions; but it had a character of\nits own which other Semitic religions did not share, and of the\nsimple and early Semitic religious attitude which will be set forth\nin another chapter it retained but little. It had an immense\ninfluence. Its ideas entered the religion of the Old Testament by\nseveral roads. Abram came to Canaan through Haran from Ur of the\nChaldees; and in Canaan the religious ideas, myths, and legends of\nBabylon must have been well known. The discovery of this code of\nHammurabi has shown that many of the laws of Moses were laws of\nBabylonia long before Moses. In a later period the tread of\nBabylonian soldiery was heard in Palestine many a time before the\ngreat captivity, in which Israel sat down and wept remembering Zion\nby the waters of Babylon. In Greece also we find that ideas which\ncame from Babylon had become known, by way of Phenicia, at a very\nearly period. Recent discoveries, however, seems to make it\nimpossible to assign to the religion of Mesopotamia any other place\nthan the first among the great faiths of the world. The ancient\nconnection between Mesopotamia and Egypt, surmised till now rather\nthan known, is coming to light, and it appears, at least, possible\nthat the first of these countries may have to be regarded as the\nsource of all the civilisations of antiquity. The pantheon of Egypt\nhas striking similarities to that of Babylonia, and some of the\nEgyptian temples show traces of derivation from the lands of the\nTigris and Euphrates. The similarities in the case of China are not\nso marked, but they are substantial. In Babylonia, therefore, we may\nbe dealing not with one of three isolated religions, but with the\nmother of the other two. If, as Mr. Lockyer holds,[1] Egypt borrowed\nastronomy from Babylon in connection with temple-building, more than\n5000 years B.C., the religion of Babylon must indeed be carried far\ninto the past.\n\n[Footnote 1: _Dawn of Astronomy_, 1894.]\n\nPeople and Literature.--Certain parts of Babylonian religion are much\nruder and more superstitious than the exalted star-worship which is\nits central feature, and these have been ascribed to peoples who\ndwelt in Babylonia before the supposed Semitic conquest, viz. the\nAccadians in the north and the Sumerians to the south, peoples not\nrelated to the Semites in blood or in language, but generally called\nTuranian, and thought to be perhaps akin to the Chinese. The\ncuneiform writing which remained in use for millenniums after the\nSemitic immigration as the sacred literary form, was supposed to have\nbeen the invention of these peoples, who had also made some progress\nin plastic art.\n\nThere is, however, no direct evidence of the alleged early Semitic\ninvasion, and the Sumerian hypothesis of which it is a feature is now\nregarded by some with less confidence. It is based on linguistic\nphenomena. Hammurabi, 2250 B.C., reigned over a realm whose subjects\nwere of different tongues, and entrusted his records to two methods\nof writing. The old Sumerian language, which cannot, in the opinion\nof the best scholars, be shown to have affinity with any language of\nthe ancient world, came to be confined to matters of religion and\nmagic, and was superseded by the Assyro-Babylonian, which was\nSemitic. But the feeble ray of the Sumerian hypothesis can be\ndispensed with in the light which is shining on ancient Babylonia\nfrom other quarters. For its information about that ancient land the\nworld was formerly dependent on the scanty notices of Greek and Latin\nwriters, but within the last half-century astonishing new sources of\ninformation have been opened up. Explorations carried on by scholars\nof many lands have made us acquainted with Babylonian and Assyrian\ntemples and palaces, and with many a great royal inscription. Great\nlibraries, made of brick tablets, have been discovered buried under\nthe ruins of the cities, and the gradual decipherment and arrangement\nof this old literature is proceeding as fast as able and devoted\nworkers can overtake it. Those who know the subject best declare that\nno complete history of Babylonian religion can yet be written. The\ntexts now in our possession embody many documents of much more remote\nage, yet the information is as yet too fragmentary and often of too\ndoubtful interpretation, while the proportion it bears to the whole\nof Babylonian life is too little known to supply a solid foundation\nfor history. With this caution we proceed to state the results which\nare considered likely to prove well founded. As we saw, several\nfeatures remain in the religion in later times which appear to throw\nlight back upon its early condition, and it may be best to begin with\nthese before describing the noble structure presented on the whole by\nthis religion.\n\n1. Worship of Spirits.--The Babylonians, like the Chinese, believed\nthe world to be thickly peopled with spirits of all kinds; and saw in\neach movement in nature the action of a \"zi\" or spirit. These spirits\ncould be to some extent controlled; though their character was not\nknown, yet certain charms and incantations were believed to have\npower over them, and communication with the unseen world took,\ntherefore, the form of magic. The earliest portions of the sacred\nliterature consist of spells or charms believed to possess this\nvirtue, and these were never displaced from the collection; on the\ncontrary, new spells were written even after higher spiritual beings\nwere known and more ethical forms of addressing them had been\ndevised. Especially were all pains and diseases ascribed to the\nagency of spirits or of sorcerers and witches, their human allies,\nand the sick person naturally sent for an exorcist to expel the\nspirit which was tormenting him. Some spirits were more powerful than\nothers, and the stronger spirit was invoked to rebuke and drive out\nthe weaker. The spirit of heaven and the spirit of earth were adjured\nto conjure the plague-demon, the demon who was afflicting the eye,\nthe heart, the head, or any other part of the body. Assertions are\nnot wanting in the cuneiform literature that beliefs and practices of\nthis kind formed no part of the true religion of Babylonia, and some\nscholars regard it as a late degeneration. The analogy of similar\ncases points, however, to the conclusion that magic is everywhere an\nearly form of religion which is only overshadowed, not killed, when a\ngreat religion arises, and which tends to reappear. It may be said\nthat there is no evidence of any break in Babylonian religion; if the\nSumerians yielded to the Semites, this led to no religious\nrevolution; the religion is Semitic from first to last.\n\n2. Animals.--A step above this trafficking with spirits is the\nworship of animals, which Mr. Sayce considers to have been an early\nform of Babylonian religion, and to afford an explanation of various\nfeatures in it. Like the gods of Egypt and those of Greece, many of\nthe gods of Babylon have animal emblems; this appears both in the\nrepresentations of them and in their legends. The winged bulls and\neagle-headed men of Babylonian art represent the same rise of the\ngods which we know to have taken place in Egypt, from the animal to\nthe semi-human, and then to the fully human form. An intermediate\nstage in Babylonia is that the god stands on the back of the animal\nwith which presumably he was formerly identified. We have an Assyrian\nDagon whose head and shoulders are covered with a fish's skin; we\nhave gods and goddesses who are human figures with the exception of\ntheir wings; we have winged dragons; we have the great bulls with\nhuman head and wings which stood as guardian deities to ward off evil\nspirits at the portal of a palace. The following animals were also\nconnected with gods: the antelope, the serpent, which came to be the\nembodiment of cunning and wickedness, the goat, the pig, the vulture.\nWe thus see that the rise from zoomorphism to anthropomorphism which\nthe Greeks afterwards carried to the highest point attainable by the\nresources of art, began in Babylonia.\n\nLike all early religions, that of Babylonia is broken up into a\nmultiplicity of local worships. There is no common system, but each\nplace has its own god or gods and its own sacred rites. In Egypt we\nshall find reason to believe that this state of matters had its\norigin in an early totemistic arrangement of society; whether the\nsame was the case in Babylonia or not, it is vain to speculate.\nBabylonian religion as we see it has risen far above the direct\nworship of animals. Each god comes before us in a certain local\nconnection and with a special character, but they tend to grow like\neach other, and their worship is organised on the same plan. The gods\nof Babylonia undoubtedly belonged to different towns, and though\nattempts were made in later times to bring them all together in an\nimperial Babylonian religion, and to settle their relations to each\nother, these attempts led to no system which was finally accepted.\nThe number of the recognised great gods varied, and there was always\na large number of minor gods. Each god has his own early history;\nhere as everywhere it is the case that the individual gods are\nearlier than the system which seeks to connect them together.\n\nThe Great Gods.--The great gods of Babylonia belong to the elements\nand to the heavenly bodies. When we first see them, they are not,\nlike the gods of the western Semites, lords and masters, characters\ntaken from human families; they are not husbands and fathers but\ncreators and universal powers. Another mark about them is that they\nhave originally no wives. When they come to have wives, these are\nsimply doubles of themselves with no special character. A consort is\ngiven to the god by adding a feminine termination to his name, thus\nBel receives Belit, Anu has Anat. Finally Babylonian religion is more\nand more directed to the heavenly bodies. It is Astral religion\ncarried to its furthest point. This fixed the arrangement of its\ntemples, the occupations of its priests.\n\nWe rapidly pass in review the principal Gods. One of the oldest is Ea\nof Eridu, a town which stood in old times at the head of the Persian\nGulf. He is a god of the deep, whether it was that he was considered\nto have come over the water from another land, or whether he is\nconnected with the belief which was held in Babylonia as elsewhere,\nthat all things originally arose out of the abyss. In later forms of\nthe legend his name appears as Oannes, and he is an amphibious being,\nhalf-fish, half-man, who rises from the deep and instructs men in\narts and sciences. Works were preserved bearing his name, for he was\nan author. He continues, even when little direct worship is addressed\nto him, one of the greatest of the gods. Ana the sky, is the god of\nErech on the lower Euphrates. Like the Chinese, the men of Erech\nregarded the sky itself as the highest god, and the maker and ruler\nof all things. In Babylonia, however, the notion became spiritualised\nmore than in China; at first we hear that his dwelling became the\nrefuge of the gods during the Deluge, but in later times he is\nregarded as a being quite above heaven and all created beings, and\neven all the gods. A third great god is Bel of Nippur, not the later\nBel of Babylon, but an older one, identical with the Accadian\nMullilla, the lord of the under-world. The earliest gods of this\nreligion are those of the sea, the earth, and the sky. As they belong\nto different districts of the country, they can scarcely be called a\ntrinity. A better approach to a trinity is formed by Ea of Eridu,\nDavkina his wife who is the earth, and the sun-god Dumuzi, their\noffspring. The son of Ea, also named Miri-Dugga or Merodach (Marduk),\nis identified with the Egyptian Osiris; they have the same symbol,\neach is a sun-god, and each has a sister who is also his wife,\nMerodach has Istar, and Osiris, Isis. In Sergul the principal deity\nwas the fire-god, sometimes called Savul; in Cutha they worshipped\nNergal the god of death, the \"strong one\" who had his throne beneath.\nCutha was a favourite place of sepulture with the Babylonians. Rimmon\nwas a god of wind, Matu of storms. There is a dragon Tiamat, with\nwhom the great gods have to contend.\n\nThe sun and the moon were worshipped everywhere; each city had its\nown sun-god and its own moon-god. The preference generally shown by\nnomads for the moon, since their journeys are made by night, is kept\nup in early Babylonia, where the moon-god is regarded as the father\nof the sun-god, and as the greater being. In Ur of the Chaldees the\nmoon was the principal deity. There were also towns such as Larsa and\nSippara, where the sun was the chief god; and many of the great gods\nof later times were originally sun-gods. The Chaldeans, moreover,\nwere proverbially star-watchers, and a \"zigurrath\" or observatory, a\nbuilding of seven spheres corresponding to those of the planets as\nthey pass through the signs of the zodiac, and like them rising up to\nthe seat of God at the North Star, was a regular part of the later\nBabylonian temple. To Babylonia is due the practice of the\norientation of temples; that is to say, the arrangement of the\nbuilding in such a way that its principal axis shall point exactly in\na desired direction. Some of the Babylonian temples were oriented so\nthat the sun should shine to the western end of them on the day of\nthe spring equinox when the inundation of the rivers began on which\nthe prosperity of the country so much depended. The temple was thus\nan astronomical instrument of a high degree of accuracy, and the\npriests who directed its building and served in it when built were\nmen of science and learning. A religion which is connected with the\nheavenly bodies, though it does not fully supply the needs of the\nlower orders and has too little energy to cope with superstition,\ntends to produce a priesthood who form centres of enlightenment and\ncivilisation throughout the country. This was in the highest degree\nthe case in Babylonia. To these old astronomers the world owes the\nsigns of the zodiac, which were fixed not later than in the fifth\nmillennium B.C., and in which we see how early man beheld in the\nnightly heavens the creatures which on earth he regarded as divine,\nso that he worshipped them in both regions. The institution of the\nSabbath is also Babylonian; whether it was connected with the changes\nof the moon, or with a week of days named after the seven planets, is\nnot certain. Seven is a sacred number in Babylonia, as we find in\nmany a connection.\n\nMythology.--We come lastly, in our attempt to enumerate those parts\nof Babylonian religion which have entered deeply into human thought,\nto the myths. The heroic legends and romances are the most\ninteresting and the best-known portions of the newly-recovered\nliterature. We have already noticed some fragments of mythology, such\nas the story of the fish-god who comes up daily from the sea, the\nmoon being the father of the sun, and the family history of Ea and\nDavkina, with the sun their child. The two latter are evidently\ninconsistent with each other. But the story about the son of Ea and\nDavkina has an important further development. His name is Duzu or\nDumuzu, and he is the Tammuz of whom we hear in the Bible (Ezekiel\nviii. 14), who is adored by women raising lamentations for him. He is\nsaid to be the sun-god of spring, to whom the heat of summer is\nfatal, and who dies in June. It is when moisture is failing from the\nground that he is bemoaned. His home is in Eden, for Eden belongs to\nBabylonian legend, which places it near Eridu. There grows the great\nworld-tree which the gods love; it rises from the centre of the\nworld, and is nourished from springs which Ea himself replenishes. It\nis a cedar (Yggdrasil, the ash-tree, we shall find, occupies the same\nposition with the Northern Teutons); it is sometimes found in a\nhighly conventional form with the figure of a cherub at each side of\nit, each of whom holds in his hand a fruit. In this tree scholars\nrecognise both the tree of life and the tree of knowledge with which\nwe are familiar. The knowledge of the priests in Babylonia was not\nfor every one, but was jealously guarded, and kept for the initiated\nalone.\n\nFrom Tammuz we naturally pass to Istar, one of the few goddesses of\nold Babylonia, and by far the most famous of them. Istar was\noriginally the goddess of the earth, and both mother and sister of\nthe sun-god, for we are led to believe that she is at first the same\nas Davkina. The great myth of the descent of Istar describes how she\ngoes down to the kingdom of the shades to seek the waters that shall\ngive life again to her bridegroom Tammuz. The poem in which the\nnarrative is preserved gives a description of the \"house of darkness,\nwhere they behold no light,\" and then tells how, at the orders of\nNinkigal or Allat, queen of Hades, Istar is deprived, successively,\nin spite of her remonstrances, of all her ornaments, and how the\nplague-demon Namtar is bidden to strike her with all manner of\ndiseases. The result of Istar's disappearance under the earth is that\nall love and courtship cease both among men and the lower animals,\nand Ea himself is appealed to, to bring to an end so unnatural a\nstate of affairs. A messenger is sent to the lower regions to cause\nthe release of Istar and the reascent of Tammuz. This goddess,\nhowever, is known not only from this legend; she has many forms, and\npassed through various fortunes. The Istar of Erech herself lures\nTammuz to his destruction. In early times Istar is also the evening\nstar, the bright companion of the moon. Her leading character,\nhowever, seems to be that of a goddess of love. Fertility depends on\nher; she goes under the earth to find her lover. In this character\nshe attracted in Babylonia a worship noted for impurity, which under\nthe name of Ashtoreth is found also in Phenicia and in Syria. There\nis also, however, a warlike Istar, a strict goddess served by\nAmazons, and capable of identification with the Greek Artemis, as the\nIstar of love is identified with Aphrodite.\n\nMuch more primitive than the legend of Istar are some parts of the\nBabylonian accounts of the creation. There are several of these\naccounts, some newly discovered. In one the old god Ea peoples the\noriginal chaos with a variety of strange monsters. In another the\nbirth of the gods is narrated as well as that of the world; we find\nalso that chaos is itself conceived as a female monster, a dragon of\nevil, and the god has to do battle with this power of darkness and\nevil, and to bring light and the habitable world up from its realm.\nIt is certainly true that the Babylonian legends of the creation are\ncrude and inconsistent with each other, and that the account in\nGenesis belongs to a much higher order of thought. The Babylonian\naccount of the deluge and the ark is more closely parallel to the\nBible narrative; the two cannot possibly be independent of each\nother, and there may be no impropriety in holding that the Hebrew\nwriters were acquainted with myths of general diffusion in the world\nthey lived in.\n\nThe State Religion.--The Babylonian and Assyrian religion of which we\nhear in the Bible (_cf._ Isa. xl.-lxvi.) is the splendid worship of\nmighty empires; it has forgotten its humble beginnings, and under the\nguidance of large priestly and learned corporations has grown much in\ndepth and purity. Of its outward magnificence the monuments furnish\nample proof. The temple of Bel-Merodach at Babylon was a wonder of\nthe world. Being the god of the prevailing city of the empire,\nMerodach was the greatest of all the gods, and was reverenced and\nextolled as befitted the friend and patron of the greatest of\nmonarchs. His son Nebo was a prophet and a god of wisdom. What\nMerodach was to Babylon, Assur was to Assyria; in fact, he was the\nonly god peculiar to Assyria. The rule that as religion grows in\noutward splendour it also gains in inward strength and spirituality\nis strikingly exemplified in the case before us. The gods have come\nto be moral powers, who really care for men, not only for the king,\ntheir earthly representative, but for their worshippers in general.\nMerodach is praised for his mercy; he not only accompanies the king\nin his wars, of which the inscriptions give us so many a wearisome\ncatalogue, but he heals the sick, he brings relief to him who is\nmourning for his transgressions, and he brings life out of death and\nreceives the soul committed to his mercy to a blessed dwelling above.\nPerhaps we pass here somewhat beyond the early period of the religion\nand touch on its ultimate phase. The penitential hymns of the later\nliterature form a strong contrast to the magical incantations, which\nfill so much space in the Babylonian sacred literature. The\nconfessions they contain are not very spiritual; the supplicant\nbewails his sufferings rather than his sins. Indeed, he rather infers\nfrom his sufferings that he has sinned, trodden, it may be, where he\nought not to have trodden, or eaten what he should not have eaten,\nthan confesses that he deserved to suffer for sins of which he is\naware. What is implored is outward redress or ease, not inward peace.\nThe removal of outward ills is taken as forgiveness. There can be no\ncomparison between these hymns and those of the Bible. But what they\ndo show is the rise in Babylonia of a religion for the individual.\nThe gods are sought not only officially by the state or for state\nends, but by the individual. They are believed to have regard to\nindividual sufferings; and the friends of a dying person believe that\nthe gods care for and will receive his soul.\n\nOur knowledge of the religion of these lands is too imperfect to\nadmit of wide conclusions being drawn from it. We know what the\nhigher religion of Babylonia was; and we also see that the higher\nworship never entirely prevailed in this land; the god, like Bel or\nAssur, who bore the character of a human over-lord, never drove out\nthe old set of spirits, nor brought the service of them to an end. As\nin the case of Egypt, so here the attempts made in the direction of a\npure and spiritual worship met with no ultimate success. Babylon and\nAssyria never came so near to Monotheism as did Egypt three\nmillenniums before Christ. Nabonidos, the last king of Babylon,\ncollected all the gods together in his capital, and endeavoured to\norganise them in a system under Merodach as their head; but this led\nto religious discord rather than to peace, since the minor deities\nvehemently resented the removal of their images from their accustomed\nshrines, and were understood to refuse their aid to the state on the\nnew conditions. The religion of Babylon was too much broken up into\nindependent local cults to admit of such a unification. The highest\nthat was reached was that one great god was adored in one city,\nanother in another, with some depth and spirituality. To nations\nwhich had attained a higher faith, that of Babylon appeared to be an\nidolatrous worship of many gods. That is a harsh judgment. This\nreligion also had life in it and advanced from a lower to a higher\nstage; from a timid trafficking with spirits to a service of gods who\nwere ideal heads of human communities, and friends of individual men.\nIt was not a mere system, as the world has been accustomed to think,\nof astrology and of divination of other kinds. But when Babylon and\nAssyria ceased to be independent powers, and became provinces of\nPersia, Bel bowed down and Nebo stooped, not to rise again. The world\nof that day had no need of them. It had already attained in more than\none country to a higher religion than that of these deities.\n\n\nBOOKS RECOMMENDED\n\nThe Histories of Antiquity, viz.--\n\nMaspero, _Histoire ancienne des Peuples de l'Orient_.\n\nDuncker, _The History of Antiquity_, from the German, by Evelyn\nAbbott.\n\nRawlinson, _The Five Great Monarchies of the Ancient Eastern World:\nChaldea, Assyria, Babylonia, Media, and Persia_.\n\nEd. Meyer, _Geschichte des Alterthums_, 1884. The first volume\nembraces the History of the East to the foundation of the Persian\nEmpire.\n\nSchrader, _Die Keilinschriften und das alte Testament_, 1903.\n\nHilprecht, _Old Babylonian Inscriptions_ chiefly from Nippur, 1893.\n\n_Records of the Past_, 1, 3, 5, 7, 9, 11.\n\nSayce's _Hibbert Lectures_, 1887.\n\nTiele, _Egyptische en Mesopotamische Godsdiensten_.\n\nJastrow, _The Religion of Babylonia and Assyria_, 1898. The most\ncomplete account of the whole subject.\n\nJastrow, \"Religion of Babylonia,\" in _Dictionary of the Bible_, vol.\nv.\n\nJastrow, \"On the Religion of the Semites,\" in _Oxford Proceedings_,\nvol. i. p. 225, _sqq._\n\nF. Jeremias in De la Saussaye, pp. 246-347.\n\nBezold, _Niniva and Babylon_, 1903.\n\nE. H. W. Johns, _The Oldest Code of Laws in the World_, 1903.\n\n\"On the Code of Hammurabi.\" E. H. W. Johns, in _Dictionary of the\nBible_, vol. v.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VIII\nCHINA\n\n\nThe Chinese have always been a world in themselves, remote from other\nraces of men; yet they developed a civilisation which is in many\nrespects worthy to be compared with that of India or of the West. The\npeople who made gunpowder and paper and who printed books, long\nbefore any of these things were done in Europe, might naturally think\nthemselves the foremost nation of the earth. Their civilisation,\nhowever, has exercised no influence on the world outside of China,\nnor has it advanced to the higher achievements of the human mind. As\ntheir great wall secludes them from other nations, so do their mental\nhabits prevent them from a free interchange of ideas with foreigners.\nThe Mongolian race, indeed, from which, like the Hungarians and the\nFinns, they are descended, is so different from other races in many\nrespects that some anthropologists suppose it to have a separate\norigin. Phlegmatic and matter-of-fact by nature, exact and careful in\npractical matters, and to a high degree imitative and industrious,\nthe Chinese are singularly devoid of imagination and indisposed to\nphilosophy. Their monosyllabic and uninflected language, belonging to\none of the earliest strata of human speech, and ill fitted to express\nabstract or poetical ideas, is an index to their whole nature. If an\nawakening, as various signs appear to indicate, is now at hand for\nthem, no one can tell how fast it will proceed, or what the final\nissue of it may be.\n\nChina has at present three religions, all recognised by the state and\nrepresented in every part of the country--viz. Confucianism, Taoism,\nand Buddhism. For our purpose the first of these is very much the\nmost important, as Taoism, originally a philosophy, quickly\ndegenerated into a system of magic, and Buddhism is imported into\nChina, and has to be spoken of elsewhere. Confucianism, being the\ndirect descendant of the old state religion of China, is the native\ngrowth of the mind of the nation. Like the Chinese language, the\nstate religion belongs to a very early formation, and presents the\nsymptoms of a development which was rapid at first but was early\narrested.\n\nHistory of China.--Legend goes back to very remote antiquity and\ntells in a shadowy way of the arrival of the Chinese from the West\n(which scholars are agreed in regarding as a fact), and of early\npotentates, patterns to all their successors, who treated the people\nas their children, and invented for them the arts on which life in\nChina most depends. History proper begins about 2000 B.C., though the\nChinese had the art of writing a thousand years before that.\nResearches, however, which are now being made by several scholars,\nseem likely to lead to the conclusion that China received at least\nthe seeds of civilisation and some religious ideas from Mesopotamia.\nThat Chinese religion resembles in some respects that of Babylonia\nwas mentioned in the last chapter. In a work like this and in the\npresent state of knowledge it is necessary to deal with the religion\nof China as an isolated one. When the history of the country opens,\nthe character, manners, and institutions of the people are already\nfixed. They are already civilised and have an organised religion,\nthough how all this came about we cannot tell. The early kings are\nmen of piety, inventors of arts, and authors of fundamental maxims of\npolicy; but as time went on the kings grew worse and lost the\naffections of their people. In the twelfth century B.C. the Chow\ndynasty came into power and gave China some of its best rulers, but\nit also soon fell off; the country broke up into a number of separate\nfeudal principalities over which the central government lost all\ncontrol, and in the sixth century Confucius is found wandering from\none independent state to another. This confusion led in the third\ncentury B.C. to the displacement of the Chow by the Tsin dynasty.\nShi-Hoang-Ti, fourth ruler of this line, one of the strongest rulers\nChina ever had, assumed the title of Universal Emperor. He beat back\nthe enemies of China beyond the frontier, began the building of the\ngreat wall, and broke down the power of the feudal rulers. It was\nfound, however, that the feudal system still lived in the affections\nof the people, and as it was the religious books which mainly kept\nthe past in veneration, the emperor ordered their destruction and\nenforced the edict with great rigour. The House of Han, however,\nwhich replaced that of Tsin in 206 B.C., recovered the ancient\nliterature of the country from the hiding-places where copies of the\nbooks had been preserved, and established in accordance with them the\nvery conservative constitution which has lasted to this day.\n\nSources.--The books thus condemned and thus recovered supply us with\nour knowledge of ancient China and of its religion. They are\npolitical rather than religious in their nature. China has no Bible,\nno book guarded by the ministers of religion as the basis of the\nsystem they conduct; the religious teachers of China, if there are\nany, are the literati, the books they preserve and study are the\nClassics. These are connected with the name of Confucius, who\ncollected or edited them, and himself wrote one of them. They are not\nthought to be inspired, but are revered because of their immemorial\nantiquity. No people was ever more completely under the influence of\na book, or set of books, than the Chinese. The learned class, who\nconstitute the only nobility of China, receive their whole education\nfrom the books ascribed to Confucius; which, like other authoritative\nliteratures, contain matter of various kinds.\n\nThe Chinese collection consists of the five Classics (King) and the\nfour books (Shu). The former were edited by Confucius; the latter are\nby the disciples of that sage or by Mencius, a distinguished teacher\nin his school about a century after him. The five Classics are the\nmost sacred of all. They are as follows:--\n\nI.--1. The _Yih-king_, or Book of Changes. This is a divining book;\nit consists of a set of interpretations by princes of the twelfth\ncentury B.C., of a set of lineal figures. The system is in itself of\nchildlike simplicity, but use and age have collected mysteries about\nit. It was exempted from the proscription of Shi-Hoang-Ti.\n\n2. The _Shu-king_, or Book of History, contains speeches and\ndocuments of the early princes from the twenty-fourth to the eighth\ncentury B.C.\n\n3. The _Shi-king_, or Book of Poetry, consists of a collection of 300\nsongs, selected by Confucius from a mass ten times as great. Some of\nthese pieces are extremely old.\n\n4. The _Le ke_, or Record of Rites. This book is said to have been\ncomposed by the duke of Chow in the twelfth century B.C., and is the\nprincipal source of information about the ancient state religion of\nChina. It contains precepts not only for religious ceremonies, but\nalso for social and domestic duties, and is the Chinaman's manual of\nconduct to the present day.\n\n5. _Chun Tsew_, Spring and Autumn, contains the annals of the\nprincipality of Loo, of which Confucius was a native, from 721-480\nB.C. They are extremely dry; and if we could understand the statement\nof Mencius that Confucius by writing them (for they are his own work)\nproduced a great effect on the minds of his contemporaries, many\nthings about Chinese religion and manners would be clearer to us than\nthey unfortunately are.\n\nTo these five Classics is sometimes added, as a sixth, the\n_Hsiao-king_, or Book of Filial Piety, a conversation on that subject\nbetween Confucius and a disciple.\n\nIt is impossible to tell how much Confucius did for these old books.\nSome hold that he did not change them much, nor put into them much of\nhis own, and that, in fact, he was himself indebted to these books\nfor all he is reported to have taught. On the other hand, it is\ndeclared that he made the ancient books teach his own doctrine, and\nleft out all that did not suit him; and, in confirmation of this\nview, the fact is pointed out that while these books as we have them\nteach pure Confucianism, another religion of a different spirit was\ngrowing up in China in Confucius's own day, which must have had some\nsupport in the old system. It may be that Confucius did not care to\nreport to us all the features of the old religion, but only those of\nwhich he approved. But the information given us about that old\nreligion is admittedly correct so far as it goes; and there is little\ndoubt that what Confucius thought best in it, and what passed through\nhim into the subsequent religion of China, was its most\ncharacteristic and most important part.\n\nII.--The Classics of the second order comprise four books:--\n\n1. The _Lun Yu_, or Digested Conversations of the Master; or, as Dr.\nLegge calls it, _The Confucian Analects_. It is from this book that\nwe derive our information about the sage; it was compiled probably by\nthe disciples of his disciples.\n\n2. The _Ta-Heo_, or Great Learning, and\n\n3. The _Chung Yung_, or Doctrine of the Mean, are smaller works,\ngiving a more literary form to the doctrine of the sage.\n\n4. The _Mang-tsze_ contains the teachings of Mencius.\n\nThe State Religion of Ancient China.--Confucius never imagined\nhimself to be a reformer of the religion of his country. The religion\nof China is in the main the same to this day[1] as it was before he\nappeared, and what is called Confucianism is simply that old system.\nThat the worship of Confucius himself has been added to it does not\ninvolve any change of its structure. It is already well developed\nwhen we first see it, and what is very peculiar, it has already\nparted with all savage and irrational elements. There is no\nmythology; the universal legend of the marriage of heaven and earth\nis dimly recognisable, but there is no set of primitive stories about\nthe gods. Of human sacrifice there is only one ancient instance;\nthere are no rites with anything savage or cruel about them.\nEverything is proper, dignified, and well arranged. The deities are\nbeings worthy to be worshipped, and they exact no meaningless\nservices. There is nothing in any part of the religion to disturb the\npropriety of the worshipper or to suggest any doubts to his mind. In\nno other religion of the world do we find everything in such\nexcellent order.\n\n[Footnote 1: The working religion of the present day is fully\ndescribed by Prof. de Groot in De la Saussaye, _Lehrbuch_, Third\nedition.]\n\nOn the other hand, it is not a highly-developed religion. Its beliefs\nare those of extremely early times, and represent a stage of thought\nat which no other national religion stood still. The organisation\ncommon to developed systems is entirely wanting; there is no idol, no\npriestly class, no Bible, no theology; the most important doctrines\nare left so vague and undetermined that scholars interpret them in\nopposite ways. It is a religion in which, just as in the primitive\nstage, outward acts are everything, the doctrine nothing, and which\nis not regulated by an organised code but by custom and precedent.\nAll these marks point to a formation in very early times, and to a\nvery early arrest of growth, before the ordinary developments of\nmythology and doctrine, priesthood, ritual, and sacred literature had\ntime to take place. They also point to the operation of some powerful\ncause, which, when the religion had developed its main features, was\nable to suppress older beliefs and practices, and lead the nation to\ndevote itself altogether to the newer faith. How this took place we\ncan only conjecture, but certainly it could never have been done\nunless the new faith and the national character had fitted each other\nperfectly. The classical religion may, as Prof. de Groot says, have\ncome into existence along with the classical constitution set up by\nthe Han dynasty 2000 years ago. But it must have been ready to enter\ninto this position.\n\nThe objects of worship in the Chinese religion arrange themselves in\nthree classes. The Chinaman of old worshipped and his descendant of\nto-day worships still--\n\n  1. Heaven.\n  2. Spirits of various kinds, other than human.\n  3. The spirits of dead ancestors.\n\n1. Heaven (Thian) is the principal Chinese deity; in strictness we\nmust say the sole deity, for there is no family of upper gods; heaven\nreceives all the worship that is directed aloft. It is the clear\nvault, the friendly ever-present and all-seeing blue that is meant,\nnot the windy nor the rainy sky, but that which is above all\nagitations, and which all beings of the air or of the earth look up\nto and serve. It is conceived as living. It is not a separable\nspirit, not a power behind, that is worshipped, but heaven\nitself,--the living heaven of that early thought, which has not yet\ncome to distinguish between matter and spirit,--the living heaven\nwhich is over all, knows all, orders and governs all.\n\nTo this heaven other names are given, even in the oldest\nwritings--Ti, Ruler; or Shang-ti, Supreme Ruler. Did the Chinese\nconceive this ruler as identical with heaven, or as a personality\ndwelling in it or above it? It has been held that the two beliefs are\nnot the same; that the Chinese of the earliest times worshipped the\nSupreme Ruler, _i.e._ the one God, Ti, and afterwards fell away from\nthat position of pure monotheism and declined to the worship of the\nmaterial object, heaven. The early Catholic missionaries argued that\nthe Chinese Shang-ti was equivalent to the Christian \"God,\" and\nsignified a being other than the sky, the Supreme Power of the\nuniverse. The Chinese, however, generally denied that they made any\nsuch distinction,[2] and even declared that they could not understand\nit. The names Heaven and Supreme Ruler are used by them\nindiscriminately: one notices that Confucius does not use the\npersonal form, but only speaks of heaven; \"heaven,\" he says, when\nfeeling distressed, \"is destroying me.\" We have here, therefore, an\nearly form of nature-worship.\n\n[Footnote 2: Dr. Legge, while admitting that the Chinese originally\nworshipped the vault of heaven itself, maintains that they got past\nthe early mode of thought which considers every natural object as\nanimated, before the dawn of history, and became pure theists,\nbelievers in a supreme spiritual being. Confucius he considers to\nhave held a lower religious position than his countrymen had already\nattained to. He also regards the worship of spirits and of ancestors\nas a later perversion and degradation of the original religion of one\ngod. In these positions he is followed by Professor Giles, _Oxford\nProceedings_, vol. i. p. 105, _sqq._]\n\nThe Supreme Power directs all things, and is an ever-present governor\nboth in the natural and in the moral sphere. These two spheres indeed\nare not regarded as distinct. Nature reveals in all its changes the\nmind of its ruler, and human conduct is regarded as an outward thing,\nas a phenomenon on the same plane with the movements of nature; the\ntwo are supposed to be part of one system and to act directly on each\nother. As Heaven both governs the weather and looks after men's\nactions, for \"every day heaven witnesses our actions and is present\nin the places where we are,\" these two aspects of providence are\nclosely blended and are in fact the same. Heaven makes its will known\nin a natural way. It is one of the most peculiar features of Chinese\nreligion that it knows no revelation, no miracles, no divine\ninterferences. It has a belief in destiny, Ming; every one has his\nMing, but it is only known when it is accomplished. \"Does Heaven\nplainly declare its Ming?\" Confucius is asked; and he replies, \"No,\nheaven speaks not; by the order of events its will is known, not\notherwise.\" Man learns by the external occurrences how Heaven is\ndisposed towards him. When there is excessive rain or long drought,\nthis shows that the harmony between Heaven and the earth is\ndisturbed. It belongs to the emperor to put this right. He alone is\nentitled to offer sacrifice to Heaven; he stands in the closest\nrelation to Heaven, who is the ancestor of his house; and when Heaven\nis seen to be displeased, the emperor must restore the harmony by\ngoverning his subjects better or by sacrifices. In an extreme case,\nwhen the emperor is seen to have fallen under the displeasure of\nHeaven, the conclusion is drawn that he must no longer be emperor.\nThe people then are entitled to depose him and to set up a new ruler,\nthrough whom the necessary transactions with Heaven can be carried\non. The belief has always been held in China, at least theoretically,\nand is operative to this day, that it can be known when Heaven has\nrejected a ruler, and that it belongs to the people to carry out that\nsentence.\n\n2. The Spirits.--The worship \"of the spirits\" is a primary religious\nduty for the Chinaman. The spirits, however, are an ill-defined set\nof beings; they are generally spoken of in the plural number, and\nsacrifice was offered to them as a body, no particular spirits being\nnamed. The spirits are connected with natural objects, every part of\nnature has its spirit. The sun, the moon, the five planets, clouds,\nrain, wind, the five great mountains, but also every smaller\nmountain, the rivers, each district, and a thousand other things, all\nhave their spirits.[3] The spirits are not flitting about\ncapriciously, but have been collected together and organised in a\nhierarchy, and this has loosened their connection with natural\nobjects. They are spoken of as a set of beings who may be addressed\nas a body. A prince alone may sacrifice to the spirit of the earth,\nand to those of the mountains and rivers of his territory. But to the\nspirits in general all may and should pray; they assist those who pay\nthem reverence and sacrifice to them. It will be seen that the\nworship of heaven and that of the spirits are kept separate. The\nformer is the imperial worship; the emperor alone is competent to\nattend to it. The latter is the official worship of minor states. Nor\nare the two sets of deities wrought into a homogeneous system; we\nhear that the spirits, while subordinate to Shang-ti, are not his\nmessengers. The surmise is not to be avoided that these two worships\ncame originally from different circles of ideas, and have not been\nperfectly blended. The worship of heaven belongs to the higher\nnature-worship, that of the spirits to the lower; the latter is\nanimistic, it is a worship of detached spirits, while the former is a\nworship of the natural object itself. The spirits are all good; there\nare scarcely any bad spirits in Chinese belief.\n\n[Footnote 3: The Japanese official religion, \"Shin-to\" (=way of the\ngods, as distinguished from Butsudo, way of Buddha, _i.e._ Japanese\nBuddhism), an easy worship of numberless spirits, without sacrifices\nand without any moral doctrine, is allied to this branch of the\nreligion of China; as also is the religion of Corea. Shin-to is not\nancestral worship, and recognises no life after death.]\n\n3. Ancestors.--The worship of ancestors is that which is assigned to\nthe private individual. He does not approach Shang-ti any more than\nhe would address the emperor on earth; his working religion is\ndirected to his ancestors. The Chinese believed in the continuance of\nthe soul after death, and addressed solemn invitations to it to\nreturn to the body it had forsaken. Their belief can scarcely be\ndescribed as that in personal immortality; it is the continuance of\nthe family rather than of the person that is thought of. The\nindividual does not look forward to his own future life or allow that\nto influence him; there is little trace of any belief in future\nrewards and punishments. China has no heaven and no hell. It is the\npast, not the future, that influences the present; the departed\nmembers of the family are believed to be still attached to it, and to\nhave become its tutelary spirits. In every house there is a hall of\nancestors, where worship and sacrifice is offered to them, and many\neven of the details of this worship remind us strongly of the way in\nwhich the Romans served their family heroes. Tablets belonging to the\nancestors are placed in this hall; and to these they are supposed to\ncome when properly invoked, so as to be present with the family. At\nevery important family event they are summoned to attend. This\nworship has to be rendered by husband and wife jointly, so that\nmarriage is necessary for its performance, and an early marriage is a\nreligious duty.\n\nThe family sacrifice, like all sacrifices in China, is of the nature\nof a banquet, at which the living members of the family, and the\nspirits who have been summoned, eat and drink together. To heighten\nthe illusion, the grandson was sometimes dressed in the clothes of\nthe departed head of the house and made the principal figure of the\ncelebration--\n\n    The dead cannot in form be here,\n    But there are those their part who bear;\n    We lead them to the highest seat\n    And beg that they will drink and eat:\n    So shall our sires our service own,\n    And deign our happiness to crown\n    With blessings still more bright.[4]\n\n[Footnote 4: _Shi-king_, II. vi. 5.]\n\nIt is not only in the family that ancestors are adored. The emperor\nsacrifices in a public capacity to all the ancestors of his own line,\nand also to all his predecessors on the throne; a magistrate to all\nwho have occupied his office before him. Ancient China possessed an\nelaborate ritual, and occasions of sacrifice were frequent. Every\nchange of season, every portent of nature, every important step\neither in public or in private life, required its consecration. It is\nin accordance with the genius of the people that the sacrifices are\nnot of the nature of propitiation, but expressions of gratitude and\ndevotion merely. Asceticism has no place in this religion; everything\nin it is bright and sensible. He who is to offer a sacrifice prepares\nhimself by prayer and retirement to do so worthily; but beyond this\nreasonable measure there is no afflicting of the soul, and in the\nprayers belonging to the occasion self-humiliation and confession\nhave no place, but only thanksgivings and petitions. The petitions\nare for worldly benefits and furtherance; the sacrifices are means of\nprocuring these from the heavenly powers. They consist chiefly of\nanimal victims, but fruits are also used, and with the importance of\nthe occasion the variety and costliness of the offerings increase.\nElaborate music also accompanies great sacrifices, and is thought to\nbe very acceptable to the heavenly powers. Religion is not separated\nfrom life in China. There is no special class to take care of it;\nevery one has to attend himself to those sacrifices which are\nincumbent on him; this is a natural, matter-of-course part of a man's\nduty. As there is no Bible, there is no religious instruction, and\nthe doctrine is quite vague and undefined. The ritual, however, is\nfixed by tradition in every detail, and if a man attends to it he\ndoes his duty; religion is a set of acts properly and exactly done,\nthe proper person sacrificing always to the proper object in the\nproper way.\n\nConfucius was not a man who tried to change the religion of his\ncountry; indeed, he disliked to talk of religious subjects, and he\npractised reverently the religion which had long prevailed in China.\nHis conversation was chiefly about what we should call worldly\nmatters, and it is hard to see why the religion of China, the same\nafter him as it had been before him, should be called by his name.\nWhat led to the connection was: (1) That he taught in a clear and\nsimple way, as had never been done before, the theory of government\nand morals which lies at the root of Chinese religion, and thus did\nsomething, though unconsciously, to provide that religion with a\ndoctrine. And (2) that he collected and edited the books which are\nthe only literary documents the religion has, and which have formed\never since the study of the ruling classes in China. Receiving these\nbooks at his hands, they have naturally looked to him as the prophet\nof their faith.\n\nHis Life.--Kung-fu-tsze (_i.e._ Master Kong; the name was Latinised\nby the Jesuits) is better known to us than most other religious\nfounders. He lived to the age of seventy-three, surrounded by\nadmiring disciples, who remembered what they saw in him and heard\nfrom his lips; and this tradition is preserved in the _Lun Yu_,\nDigested Conversations,[5] a work compiled, as we observed, by\ndisciples of the second generation. The supernatural element which in\nother cases gathered so quickly round a venerated figure, is here\nentirely absent; in China such growths do not take place. There may\nbe some tendency to idealise the moral greatness of the sage, but\nthere are also passages in which this tendency evidently has not been\nat work; both in its candour and in the homeliness of much that is\nreported, the book invites confidence as a genuine record. We see the\nsage as the diligence of students in the present generation enables\nus to see Kant or Wordsworth; we hear his opinions on a great variety\nof subjects; we see how he behaved on occasions of state and at his\nmeals in private, towards princes and towards common men; we laugh at\nhis jokes and sigh with him at his privations.\n\n[Footnote 5: Dr. Legge, _Confucian Analects_.]\n\nHe was born in 551 B.C. in a good rank of society, but was brought up\nin poverty, and owed all his success to his own merits. The bent of\nhis mind showed itself early; as a child he amused himself with\nplaying at ceremonies; at thirteen, he tells us, he bent his mind to\nlearning, the subject of his studies being history and poetry, the\nceremonies and the music of the empire. He early arrived at the views\nhe always afterwards held as to the proper way to govern a people,\nand he believed with all the faith of an enthusiast that a vast\nimprovement of society would follow the adoption of his method. It\nwas to public employment that he aspired from an early period of\nlife; but he did not readily find it in the unquiet times in which\nhis lot was cast. He did enjoy office for certain brief periods, and\nmarvellous things are told of the reformation of manners which at\nonce attended his efforts as a governor. All got their due; there was\nno thieving, and there was no occasion to put the penal laws in\nexecution, for no offenders showed themselves. What was the method\nwhich was held to have had such results? In the counsels which he\ngave to various rulers who applied to him this is set forth. He\nbelieved the power of example to be capable of effecting all that a\nruler should desire. Punishments might be dispensed with, and\nexcessive pains need not be bestowed on the machinery of government,\nbut a prince who has \"rectified\" himself will soon have his people\n\"rectified\" too. The first task of a ruler is to \"rectify names\";\n_i.e._ there is good government when the prince is really a prince\nand the minister a minister, when the father is a real father and the\nson a real son. The perfect order consists of the due observance by\neach rank of the duties belonging to it; there is to be a\nwell-regulated hierarchy in which each understands his function and\nacts it out. The people are naturally good and docile, he held, and\nif they are well governed they will not do wrong even though rewards\nbe offered for it. Thus by docile respect to tradition and authority,\nwhich all men are willing to pay if properly guided towards it, the\npillars of the state are established.\n\nHis Doctrine.--This is the truth which Confucius preached most\nearnestly. He spoke of heaven but seldom, and of the spirits he\nprofessed no certain knowledge; he declared towards the end of his\nlife that he had not prayed for many years. He was a diligent\nfrequenter of all religious ceremonies and a strong upholder of the\nold order, but his interest in these things was not speculative or\nmystical, but entirely practical. He regarded himself as a teacher of\nvirtue, not of religious doctrine; his watchword was \"propriety,\" the\ndutiful observance of all right and customary rules of conduct. Yet\nthere is not wanting an ideal element in his doctrine. He enounces\nthe theory, of which the whole of Chinese religion is the outward\nexpression, that the universe in all its parts, in nature and in man,\nis an order; that that order is declared to man alike in the\nordinances of outward nature, in the constitution of society with its\nvarious ranks and classes, and in the ritual of religion; and that it\nis the whole duty of man to know that order and to conform himself to\nit. The theory is one in which the state is all, the individual\nnothing, and in which the present is entirely crushed under the dead\nhand of the past, and all originality and progress condemned even\nbefore they appear. If religion has been delivered from all that is\nunseemly and irrational, it has also, at least to Western eyes, lost\nmuch of its interest; the enthusiasms and excitements of its early\nstages have departed, and no new enthusiasm has come in their place;\nno great god-wrought deliverance thrills the memory of posterity, no\nlocal cults excite exceptional devotion, no divine historical figure\nattracts to itself personal affection. Religion has cast off fear but\nhas not yet risen to the inspiration of love. The domestic worship\ncame nearest to this, for the other worships are cold and distant\nindeed; but that worship was a powerful influence for the prevention\nof progress. The Christian text which hallows individual daring and\ninnovation, by bidding a man put his convictions above his father and\nmother, would be a shocking impiety to Chinese ears.\n\nA temple was built to Confucius after his death and his worship was\nadded to the state religion. The attempt made by the emperor\nShi-Hoang-Ti in the third century after his death to suppress his\nmemory and the books connected with his name, was, though conducted\nwith great vigour, unsuccessful. The teaching of Mencius (371-288\nB.C.), the most distinguished of his disciples, added no new element\nto that of Confucius. Two movements, however, have to be noticed,\nwhich in different ways aimed at giving something richer and deeper\nthan Confucianism, and to which China owes the two additional\nreligions of Taoism and Buddhism.\n\nTaoism looks to Lao-tsze as its founder; but it has no personal\nfounder and is composed of older elements. Lao was a philosopher who\nlived at the same time with Confucius, though half a century older;\nConfucius met him, as we hear in the _Analects_, and spoke of him\nwith great respect. His work, the _Tao-te-king_, has been preserved,\nand though few profess to understand it, a general idea of his\nthought may be gathered from it. Lao, like Confucius, founds on the\nexisting system; he quotes largely from older works, and there are\nsayings common to both the sages. Metaphysical thought, however,\nwhich with Confucius was implied rather than reasoned out, here\nstands in the forefront. Lao's system is a philosophy applied\npractically. Tao, the ruling idea of the system, from which both it\nand the religion which followed it are named, is variously rendered\nReason, Nature, the Way; the last is the nearest, though by no means\na full rendering of it. By the manifold operations attributed to it,\nit reminds us of the Indian Brahma, and the riddle of Lao's obscurity\nhas been proposed to be solved by the supposition that he was dealing\nwith a doctrine imported from India which Chinese forms of speech\ncould but imperfectly express.[6] Tao is not personal, but something\nthat precedes all persons, all particular beings. It was there before\nheaven was; all things are from it and return to it at last. It is\nthe principle at the root and the beginning of all things, by which\nthey move, without haste or struggle, ambition or confusion. Existing\nfirst absolute and undeveloped, it has now been expressed; men can\nknow it, and the secret of all goodness, all success both for the\nindividual and for the state, is to know Tao and live in it. This\nmakes a man superior to all rules and conventions; at home with\nhimself he is superior to the world; he does not dissipate his\nenergies in learning a great number of outward things, but acts\nspontaneously from an inner impulse. In this way the philosopher\nlooked for a return of society to simpler manners; he even imagined\nthat men might consent to put away the material arts of which they\nthought so much, and content themselves with living according to\nwisdom and being governed by the wisest.\n\n[Footnote 6: \"Lao-Tzeu et le Brahmanisme,\" by E. Guimet in the\n_Verhandlungen_ of the Basal Conference, 1904.]\n\nThe moral precepts of Lao are often of singular beauty and show a\nmuch deeper insight than the cold teaching of Confucius. Lao taught\nthe golden rule: \"Recompense injury,\" he said, \"with kindness.\"\nConfucius, on being asked about this, did not agree with Lao, but\ndeclared that kindness ought to be recompensed with kindness, but\ninjury with justice, as if private morality ought not to rise higher\nthan public policy. \"Resent it not when you are reviled,\" Lao\nteaches; and \"He who overcomes others is strong; he who overcomes\nhimself is mighty.\" \"He who knows when he has enough is rich.\" \"The\nweakest things in the world subjugate the strongest.\" The _Book of\nRecompenses_, which is the practical manual of Taoists and is\nuniversally read in China, sets up a high ideal of goodness, and\nclaims to be studied with devotion and earnestness. The task of\nself-discipline is represented as one requiring faith and courage,\nthe continuous efforts of a lifetime, and unceasing watchfulness. If\nwe judge Taoism either by its philosophy or by its morals, we must\nassign it a high rank among the efforts which have been made to guide\nmen in the way of wisdom. As a religion, however, it is a dismal\nfailure, and shows how little philosophy and morals can do without a\nhistorical religious framework to support them. Taoism was not at\nfirst a religion, and was not fitted to become one, as it neither\noffered any sacred objects of its own for pious sentiment to cling\nto, nor, like Confucianism, leant upon the state system. The religion\nwhich looks to Lao as its chief figure is not based on his teaching;\nat most it is connected with some of his less important doctrines. It\ndid not take a place in the world till five centuries after the\nphilosopher's death, and its rise was due partly to the emperor named\nabove, who was opposed to Confucius, and partly to teachers who\nbrought forward isolated doctrines of Lao's system which admitted of\na popular application. When the religion appears it is a system not\nof philosophy but of magic. Lao had spoken of immortality as the\nportion of those who lived according to Tao; under the Chin dynasty\n(220 B.C.) Taoism is engaged in a search for the fairy islands, where\nthe herb of immortality is to be found; in the first century of our\nera the head of Taoism is devising a pill which shall renew his\nyouth. When Buddhism enters China, in the same century Taoism borrows\nfrom it the apparatus of religion, temples, monasteries, and\nliturgies, and sets out on its career as a church.\n\nIt was not without reason that Buddhism was sent for, if we are truly\ninformed, by the rulers of China, or that it spread over the country,\nin the first century of our era. Neither Confucianism nor Taoism is a\nreligion, in the full sense of the term, as supplying by intercourse\nwith higher beings an inspiration for life. The former is regulative\nand no more; the latter is a mere set of devices for obtaining\nbenefits from mysterious powers. Buddhism, on the contrary, appeals,\nas we shall see when we consider it in connection with India, to\nunselfish motives, and insists on the solemn responsibilities of\nindividual life in such a way as to raise the value of the human\nperson. As it appeared in China it is richer than we shall find it in\nIndia; it has a god, unknown to southern Buddhism, and it has a\ngoddess Kouan Yin, \"the being who hears the cries of men,\" sometimes\nrepresented with a child on her knee, just like a Western Madonna.\nWhile still essentially monastic, it offers salvation and a way of\nlife to all. To faith in Buddha the merciful one is also added a\nbelief in the paradise in which he receives believers. Thus a popular\nworship is provided, which neither of the older beliefs supplied.\n\nIt remains true that China has no religion worthy of the name. The\nphenomenon may there be witnessed, which is seen with certain\ndifferences also in Japan, that several religions exist side by side,\nall of which are supported by the state and live together without\nrivalry, and to all of which a man may belong at the same time. This\ncould not be the case if any of the three appealed strongly to\npatriotic sentiment, or gave full expression to the ideals of the\nnation.\n\n\nBOOKS RECOMMENDED\n\nIn the Sacred Books of the East, vols. iii., xvi., xxvii., and\nxxviii. contain translations of Chinese Classics, by Dr. Legge. The\nsame writer has published three convenient volumes of his own,\ncontaining: 1. The Life and Teachings of Confucius, 2. The Life and\nWorks of Mencius, 3. The Shi-King.\n\nDr. Legge has also written a popular work, _The Religions of China_,\n1880. Also _The Notions of the Chinese concerning God and Spirits_,\n1852.\n\nThe best account of the old State Religion is that of J. H. Plath,\n_Die Religion und der Cultus der alten Chinesen_, 1862.\n\nReville, _La Religion chinoise_ (1889). The third volume of his\nHistory.\n\nR. K. Douglas, _Confucianism and Taoism_, 1876. S.P.C.K.\n\nDe Groot, in De la Saussaye.\n\nDe Groot, _The Religious System of China_, vols. i.-iv., 1892-1901.\nAlso a small book, _The Religion of the Chinese_, 1910.\n\nBeal, _Buddhism in China_, 1884.\n\nMurray's _Guide to Japan_.\n\nJ. Edkins' _Religion in China_, 1878, the account of a modern\nmissionary, may be consulted.\n\nOn Taoism, Pfizmaier, _Die Loesung der Leichname und Schwerter_, 1870;\nand _Die Tao-lehre von dem wahren Menschen und den Unsterblichen_,\n1870. Julius Grill, _Lao-tsze's Buch vom hoechsten Wesen und vom\nhoechsten gut_. _Tao-te-King_, 1910. Vols. xxxix.-xl. of the _S.B.E._\ngive Taoist Texts.\n\nRevon, _Le Shintoisme_, 1907.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER IX\nTHE RELIGION OF ANCIENT EGYPT\n\n\nEgypt is a land of still more ancient civilisation than China, and\nits civilisation is of more interest to us, since from it the nations\nof the West obtained in part the seeds of their arts and sciences.\nEven to antiquity everything Egyptian appeared venerable and\nmysterious, and the air of mystery is not yet removed from the\ncountry of the Nile. We have discovered the sources of the river and\nhave learned to read the writing on Egyptian monuments; but the\nsphinx has other riddles than these--riddles not yet solved. Who are\nthe Egyptians, and where did they come from? In ancient times they\nwere thought to have descended from the interior of Africa; now the\nopinion gains ground that they were at a very early period connected\nwith the ancestors of the Semitic races; their language is thought to\nshow signs of this remote relationship. How, by whom, and when were\nthey formed into a nation? No one can tell; they come before us four\nthousand years before Christ, a fully-formed nation, with an\nelaborately organised public service, and with a civilisation both\nbroad and rich. And lastly, What is the religion of Egypt? What are\nthe earliest gods of the land, and in what relation do the various\ngods which were worshipped in it stand to each other? That question\ncannot at the present time be fully answered. Even should it be\nproved, as it appears likely to be, that Egyptian civilisation was\nderived originally from Mesopotamia, much will still be dark and\nenigmatical. The foremost scholars in Egyptology confess that no\nhistory of Egyptian religion can as yet be written. Those who have\ntried to sketch it differ from each other as widely as possible, some\nalleging monotheism as its starting-point, and some the worship of\nanimals. The religion also comes into view at the early period we\nhave mentioned as a fully-formed and stately public system, whose\nyouthful struggles, if it had any, are long past. What is most\npeculiar in that religion is, that it embraces elements which appear\nat first sight to have nothing whatever in common, nay, to be quite\nirreconcilable with each other. We shall do well not to attempt any\nconstruction of Egyptian religion as a whole, but to content\nourselves with examining one after another the various elements,\nalmost amounting to different religions, which are found in it side\nby side. We shall no doubt learn something of the relations in which\nthey stood to each other, but it may prove that we shall find\nourselves unable to adopt any of the theological theories by which\nEgyptian priests or Greek philosophers sought to combine them in one\nsystem.\n\nHistory and Literature.--The principal thing to be remembered, in\norder to understand the history of ancient Egypt, is that the country\nwas divided into a number of provinces or nomes, which, there is\nevery reason to think, were originally independent of each other. Of\nthese nomes there were about twenty in Upper Egypt--that is, in the\nlong gorge of the Nile from Elephantine in the south to Memphis in\nthe north; and about the same number in Lower Egypt--that is, in the\nflatter country from Memphis to the sea. King Mena or Menes, founder\nof the first dynasty, whose date, if he was a historical character at\nall, and not a mythic founder like Minos of Crete, Manu of India, or\nMannus of Germany, cannot be later than 3200 B.C., is said to have\nunited for the first time the two crowns of Upper and Lower Egypt.\nBut though they became united under one ruler, the nomes never forgot\ntheir independence, nor did they cease to maintain their separate\nexistence as states within the empire, each having its own army, its\nown ruler, its own system of taxation, its own worship. The supreme\npower resided now in one nome and now in another. The first two\ndynasties belonged to that of Abydos; the succeeding dynasties, to\nwhich the earliest monuments belong, so that Egypt here begins its\nreal history, had their seat at Memphis. The twelfth dynasty, which\nis known to us, but is both preceded and followed by a gap of half a\nmillennium in Egyptian history, made Thebes the capital. Thebes was\nalso the seat of the eighteenth and nineteenth dynasties, which came\nafter the foreign domination of the shepherd kings, and under which\nEgypt was at the summit of its power. Ramses II. and his successors,\nthe Pharaohs of the book of Genesis, belong to the nineteenth\ndynasty.\n\nHow splendid the Imperial Court of Egypt was at various periods, the\nmonuments tell us; these palaces, temples, and tombs are in\nproportion to a power which considered itself to have the world at\nits feet, and to be the manifestation of the greatest gods.\nLiterature is at the same high level of development with the other\narts, and writing is used for every branch of the public service.\nThis, the most ancient of the literatures of the world, is spread\nover the immense surfaces of ancient temples and tombs, and stored up\nin masses of papyrus rolls, much of which is still to be explored.\nOur knowledge of ancient Egypt and its religion is still in its\ninfancy. The story of the decipherment of the various characters and\nof the recovery of the early language of Egypt is one of the most\nwonderful triumphs of scholarship. Only one remark, however, do we\nnow make in connection with Egyptian writing, namely, that it\nillustrates in a singular manner the conservatism of the Egyptian\npeople, a feature of their character which is strikingly manifested\nin their religion also. The ancient Egyptian did not cast away an old\nusage when a new one, even a very superior one, had been introduced.\nLong after metals had come into use, he still employed for various\npurposes, especially those connected with religion, implements of\nstone. The flint knives found in mummy-cases are connected with the\nwork of embalming, and show the retention of an archaic usage. The\nsame is true of the matter of writing. The earliest Egyptian writing\nwas that which is called hieroglyphic, or picture-writing. In this\nsystem what is written down does not represent the sounds of words\nthe writer uses, but the ideas in his mind; it is writing without\nwords; a clumsy system we should say, and presenting the greatest\npossible difficulties to the reader. At a very early time, however,\nwhat is called hieratic writing was invented, in which the symbols\nused represent not things but sounds, though the symbols used are\nadapted from those of the earlier picture-writing. It is in this\nhieratic character that the great mass of Egyptian literature is\npreserved to us; but here again we find that the new system did not\nbanish the old one from use. Especially in religious inscriptions and\ndocuments, the matter is given both in the newer writing and in the\nolder; the piece is written twice, first in hieroglyphic, the old and\nsacred form, and then in hieratic, the new form, which could be\neasily read. In the matter of different objects of worship, too, it\nmay perhaps be found that the same aversion to discard anything old\nand sacred manifests itself, the same disposition rather to carry on\nthe old and the new together.\n\n\nI. ANIMAL WORSHIP\n\nWe begin with that element in Egyptian religion which is to our eyes\nleast rational. In the ages before and after the Christian era, when\na number of Greek and Latin writers tell us about Egypt, we find that\nthe religion of the country is described as consisting mainly in the\nworship of animals. This excited the wonder of these writers in no\nsmall degree. Herodotus asserts that the Egyptians counted all\nanimals sacred, and gives a list of those which were specially\nworshipped. The hippopotamus, he says, is sacred at Papremis, the\ncrocodile at Thebes; and some animals are sacred all over the\ncountry. He has much to tell of the manner in which the sacred\nanimals are fed and tended, and of the honours paid to them at their\ndeath. Lucian says: \"In Egypt the temple is a building of great size\nand splendour, adorned with precious stones and decorated with gold\nand with inscriptions; but if you go in and look for the god, you\nfind an ape or an ibis or a goat or a cat.\" The same statement is\nmade by Clement of Alexandria; and Celsus, the early Roman assailant\nof Christianity, speaks to the same effect. Thus the popular religion\nof Egypt, before and after the Christian era, had animals for its\nprincipal objects. A representative of the sacred species sat or\ncrawled or hopped in the temple, and in that nome that animal was not\neaten. In the nome in which the cat was sacred all cats were\ninviolable; any insult offered to a cat roused the whole population\nto frenzy, and one who killed a cat, even though he was a stranger in\nthe place and unacquainted with its manners, forfeited his own life.\nIn the next nome the cat was not sacred but some other animal; and\nthese local differences of religion might occasion war between one\nnome and another. Juvenal gives in his fifteenth satire an account of\na religious war of old standing between two neighbouring nomes, each\nof which hated and insulted the animal which was worshipped in the\nother. This may explain why it was impossible for the Israelites to\noffer sacrifice to Jehovah in Egypt. They had to go out into the\nwilderness, off Egyptian soil, before they could sacrifice animals\nEgypt held sacred.\n\nThe worship of a sacred animal in its own nome, a member of the\nspecies dwelling in the temple and the others enjoying respect and\nprotection throughout that nome, this is the normal state of affairs.\nSometimes an individual animal acquires sacredness for Egypt\ngenerally, as the bull Apis of Memphis, the bull Mnevis of\nHeliopolis, or the goat of Mendes. These, though originally local\ndeities, might obtain a wider reverence if the nome they belonged to\nrose to greater power. Animals of every size and kind were worshipped\nin Egypt. Besides the large animals we have mentioned, the ape, the\ndog, the little shrew-mouse, each had its local sacredness; also\nsnakes, frogs, and various kinds of fishes. The beetle (_scarab_) can\nby no means be left without mention; and a number of trees and shrubs\nwere also sacred,[1] but, very curiously, not the palm.\n\n[Footnote 1: A very complete list of the sacred animals and trees\nwill be found in Wilkinson's _Ancient Egyptians_, vol. iii. p. 258,\n_sqq._]\n\nIt will be observed that our account of Egyptian animal worship is\ndrawn from very late sources and applies to a late period of the\nreligion. The religion of the earlier ages of Egypt is of quite a\ndifferent kind; the kings and priests who wrote the inscriptions of\nthe monuments tell us nothing about animal worship. Is that because\nsuch worship did not flourish in their day? Not necessarily. Perhaps\nthey knew it well, but were not interested in it, or did not wish to\nencourage it. The Egyptians certainly did not believe the worship of\nanimals to have been a late innovation. Manetho, an Egyptian priest\nwho wrote in the third century B.C., says that the worship of animals\nwas introduced under the second king of the second dynasty. That is\nas if we should say that an old custom of which we did not know the\norigin was introduced into Britain in the days of King Arthur. The\npriests of Manetho's day wished animal worship to be considered a\ncorruption of the original religion of their country, but they could\nnot specify the time at which it had come in, and placed its origin\nin the mythical period of history. The story of Manetho therefore\ngoes to prove that the origin of animal worship is anterior to\nwritten records.\n\nBut we have other evidence to the same effect. The earliest\nrepresentations of the deities of Egypt on the monuments testify in a\nway which can scarcely be mistaken that these great beings had\noriginally some connection with members of the animal kingdom. The\ngreat gods of Egypt are designated on the monuments in three ways.\nTheir ultimate form is human, the god is a man or woman, and as the\nhuman figures of all the deities are drawn after one conventional\nmale and one conventional female pattern, a symbol is added to the\nhead to show which god or goddess is meant. Hathor is a woman with a\ncow's horns on her head, Seb has a duck on his head, and so on. But\nan earlier form of the written symbols of the deities is that which\nrepresents them partly in human and partly in animal form. Horus\nappears as a man with the head of a hawk, Hathor as a woman with the\nhead and horns of a cow, Bast is a woman with the head of a cat,\nOsiris has the head of a bull or of an ibis, Chnum of a ram, Amon has\nthe head now of a ram now of a hawk. Deities also occur with human\nbodies and the heads of mythical animals such as the phoenix. But\nalong with these semi-human, semi-animal figures there are found\nstill simpler symbols for the deities; they are drawn as animals. It\nis only about the twelfth dynasty that the change to the higher form\ntakes place, but even after the step was made of representing the\ngods as half-human, the older pictures of them were not discarded,\nbut placed side by side with the new ones. Thus we find on the same\nstone two representations of Horus, one of which gives him as a man\nwith a hawk's head, while the other makes him simply a hawk; and\nsimilar double representations of the other gods occur. If the gods\nof Egypt were thus conceived and represented in the earliest times,\nthen the animal worship described by the Greek and Roman writers was\nnot the invention of a late age of decadence, but had its roots at\nleast far back in the past. The early gods of Egypt were animals,\nwhatever else, whatever more they were. It may be that the animal\nworship of the later and weaker Egyptian periods was a revival, such\nas takes place in weak periods, of a style of worship which in\nearlier centuries had to a large extent disappeared in favour of a\nmore spiritual faith.[2] Of this only an Egyptologist can judge, but\nat any rate animal worship was not a new thing in Egypt, but a very\nold thing.\n\n[Footnote 2: This is held by Le Page Renouf, in his Hibbert Lectures,\n_On the Origin and Growth of Religion, as Illustrated by the Religion\nof Ancient Egypt_.]\n\nTheories Accounting for Animal Worship.--What did this worship mean?\nand how are we to account for it? The Egyptians themselves, and the\nancient writers who turned their attention to Egypt, accounted for it\nby a variety of theories; and various theories are still held on the\nsubject. We can only enumerate the principal ones. (1) The beasts\nwere worshipped for their qualities, as is said to have been the case\nin Peru before the Incas (chapter vi.); each was reverenced for that\ndivine excellence or virtue which appeared to be manifestly resident\nin it. Thus the dog was worshipped for his watchfulness and\nfaithfulness; the hawk for its darting flight through the upper air,\nlike the flashing of the sunlight or of the sun-god himself; the cow\nas a great kind mother; the beetle for that wonderful procedure in\nthe reproduction of his kind, in which he so strikingly brings life\nout of decay. (2) The beasts are not worshipped themselves; they are\nonly the emblems of the deities with whom they are connected, and it\nis the deity who is worshipped, not the animal. This may be quite\ntrue of later practice, but is by no means a satisfactory explanation\nof its origin; for how was it arranged, and who was it that ordained\nat first, that the jackal should be the emblem of Anubis, the cat of\nBast, the crocodile of Sebak, and so on? (3) Various mythological and\nquasi-historical accounts of the origin of the practice are given,\nsuch as that men long ago chose different animals for their standards\nin war, or that some early king, wishing to keep his subjects\ndisunited, ordered that each nome should serve a different animal. It\nis also told as a story of early times that the gods when they walked\non earth assumed the forms of various animals; thus the gods are\nstill in the animals. The gods hid in the beasts in order to be near\nmen and see how they did. But men found them out and worshipped them\nin the disguise they had assumed. (4) The gods cannot be present in\nthe world and cannot be satisfactorily worshipped unless they have\nbodies to dwell in--that is involved in Egyptian psychology; and as\nthe gods would be too much alike if they all occupied human bodies,\nthey chose the bodies of different animals.\n\nThese theories of animal worship are evidently later inventions, to\naccount for a state of matters the real origin of which was not\nknown. Philosophical priests could not accommodate themselves to the\nanimal worship of the temples without a doctrine to justify it to\ntheir minds. But those who resorted to such theories about animal\nworship could have nothing to do with calling the system into\nexistence. We may be sure that a refined and cultivated people did\nnot take up animal worship and cling to it, in spite of its repulsive\nfeatures, with such tenacity as the Egyptians did, because of a\nspeculative idea of the likeness of certain beasts to certain gods,\nor to express pantheistic views of the emanations of deity in animal\nforms. The system, in fact, cannot have sprung up after the Egyptians\nbecame civilised, and could not continue to exist among a civilised\npeople, if it was not hallowed by an immemorial antiquity. Only as a\nmystery, a thing of which the origin was not known, could such a\nworship continue among such a people.\n\nA new explanation of Egyptian animal worship has been put forward in\nrecent times by the Anthropological school of students of\nreligion,[3] and is rapidly gaining ground. The religious\ncircumstances of Egypt as narrated by Juvenal and Diodorus have the\nstrongest resemblance to the totemistic state of society described\nabove (chapter iv.). Here, as in Peru before the Incas, or among the\nNorth American Indians of to-day, we have a number of communities\neach with its special sacred animal, which it does not eat, but\nreverences and defends. Other traces of totemistic arrangements may\nbe suspected here and there in Egyptian observances, but even did the\nanalogy extend no further than to the facts just mentioned, there\nwould be a case for considering whether the nomes were not first\npeopled by a set of totemistic clans, who, even after they were\nunited in one people, preserved their early separate traditions. The\nsacred animals of the nomes would then be \"the totems of the clans\nwhich first settled in these localities.\" Later developments of\nreligion never displaced these venerable emblems, if this be so, of\ntribal life.[4]\n\n[Footnote 3: See A. Lang, _Myth, Ritual, and Religion_, Second\nEdition. Frazer's _Totemism_. Most of the modern Egyptologists\nincline to the theory that animal worship, though not the only, was\none of the chief sources of Egyptian religion. Pietschmann first took\nup this ground.]\n\n[Footnote 4: Compare the worship of animals in Babylonia, chapter\nvii.]\n\n\nII. THE GREAT GODS\n\nA very different set of gods are those made known to us by the\nmonuments and books. It is the principal problem of this religion to\nexplain how, along with the sacred animal, the cat or ibis or\ncrocodile, there was worshipped in the Egyptian temple the celestial\nbeing, the god of heaven or of the sun, whose nature is light, who is\nrighteous and good, and who more and more fills the mind of the\nworshipper with noble adoration, and leads him towards the high\ntruths of theism. These high gods of Egypt were represented, as we\nhave seen, from the earliest times of which we have any knowledge,\nunder animal forms. As far back as we can see, Hathor is a cow, and\nHorus a hawk, and Anubis a jackal. Did beast worship spring by a\nprocess of degradation from the worship of the high gods? We have\nseen how difficult it is to maintain such a view. Did the higher\nworship then spring by a process of development out of the lower?\nThat also would be hard to prove, for the high gods of Egypt are not\nbeasts, however magnified and spiritualised, but beings of a\ndifferent order; they are the sky, the sun, the moon, the dawn. And\nas in our opening chapters we saw reason to believe that the worship\nof the great powers of nature is an original thing with early man,\nand explains itself without being derived from lower forms of\nreligion, so we must judge with regard to Egypt too. Even if some of\nthe great gods came from Mesopotamia, that helps us but little to\nunderstand their history after they arrived in Egypt. In this field\nalso we are driven to recognise two religions, different in nature\nand of independent origin, existing side by side, and seeking to come\nto terms with each other; and the combination of the two is a process\nin Egyptian religion which took place before the period of which we\nhave knowledge. It is prehistoric.\n\nIt was formerly considered that the nature-gods of Egypt had very\nlittle mythology connected with them; only one considerable story of\ntheir doings was known; most of them had no history beyond the few\nphrases applied by primitive thought to the great natural phenomena\nto qualify them to be regarded as living and active beings. But as\nmore inscriptions are read, more divine myths are coming to light,\nand further discoveries of the same kind may be still in store for\nus. These different myths, however, are formed after the same\npattern. The great gods of Egypt are simple beings and easy to\nunderstand, and they were never formed into an organised system like\nthe gods of Greece, but remain in separate dynasties or families, and\nare very like each other. Many of them are sun-gods, or gods of the\nmorning and evening, and their stories cannot differ very widely from\neach other, but they belong to different districts of the country;\nthat is what constitutes their difference from each other, and keeps\nthem separate.\n\nThe Great Gods also are Local.--The nature-god as well as the\nanimal-god was worshipped in his own nome, where he dwelt in the\nmidst of his own community of worshippers; he was not recognised in\nother nomes unless there were special reasons for it. But at the\nearliest period of our knowledge of Egypt this simple early\narrangement has already undergone many modifications. Each nome has\nits own special deity. Set is the god of Oxyrhynchus, Neith of Sais,\nbut more gods than one are worshipped in each nome. Generally there\nare three; in many places there is an ennead, a nine of gods, but the\nnine is a round number; there might be one or two less or more. The\ngod of a nome which had risen to a commanding position extended his\ninfluence beyond his own nome, and came to share the temples of other\ngods, so that he was at home in a number of places. Ra is said to\nhave fourteen persons--that is, fourteen views of his person have\nbeen developed in so many different districts. But if one god could\nthus be divided into several, the converse also took place; two or\nmore gods were combined, by the simple addition of their names\ntogether, to form a new god. We have Ra-harmachis, Amon-ra,\nPtah-Sokar-Osiris, and some even more elaborately compounded deities.\n\nThus there was a constant tendency to the production of new deities;\neven the attempts to combine existing deities only add to the number.\nNo attempt in the direction of a system of gods had any success;\nlocal deities could not be suppressed; the nomes retained their\nseparate deities and religious establishments to the end. There never\nwas a religious organisation of Egypt generally; a priest could in\nsome cases pass from the religion of one nome to that of another, but\nthere was never a high priest of Egypt as a whole, however much a\nking might wish to organise all the worships of the country in one\nsystem. This local character of the Egyptian high gods was a source\nof weakness in these great beings, and never ceased to check their\nupward movement.\n\nThe temple of a nome had, as a rule, three gods, and these formed a\nfamily, the chief god having his consort and the third being their\nson. Of these triads we may mention some:--\n\n    Amen-Mut-Chonsu            are the triad of Thebes.\n    Ptah-Sechet-Imhotep                \"        Memphis.\n    Osiris-Isis-Horus                  \"        Abydos (Philae).\n    Sebak-Hathor-Chonsu                \"        Ombos.\n    Har-hat-Hathor-Har-sem-ta          \"        Edfu.\n\nThe son is the successor of his father, and it is his destiny in turn\nto marry his mother and so to reproduce himself, that is his own\nsuccessor; and so though constantly dying he is ever renewed. The\nmother, not being a sun-god, does not die. If we remember that the\ngods have to do with the sun these things need not shock us, nor need\nwe wonder at the statement which is very frequently met with, that a\ngod is self-begotten, or that he produces his own members.\n\nMythology.--A few words may be said about Egyptian mythology in\ngeneral before we speak of some of the principal gods. The usual\nstories of the beginning of things are not wanting, as when the\nprincipal god is said to have been born from a primeval egg, or a\nwhole family of gods to be the children of Seb and Nut; Seb, the\nearth, being in Egypt the male, and Nut, heaven, the female, of these\nearliest parents of all things. More than one god, moreover, is held\nto have been an earthly king, and to be the founder of the royal\nhouse which now pays him homage. \"The days of Ra,\" for example, are\nspoken of as a golden age in which perfect justice and happiness\nprevailed. Many stories too may be found which profess to furnish an\nexplanation of some feature of nature or some institution of society,\nto account for the names of places or of animals, or for the presence\nof the five days which were added to the twelve lunar months in Egypt\nto produce a satisfactory solar year. Many old stories of the gods\nhave magical efficacy when told in certain situations; one is good\nagainst poison, but must be told in a certain way to produce the\neffect. After these stories of the gods' early reign of peace, come\nthose relating to less happy periods, when the old god grew weak and\nbegan to have enemies, when gods and men became disobedient to him,\nwhen a war broke out among the gods, which is not yet brought to an\nend but breaks out ever afresh; or when the old god succumbed to his\nenemies, and his successor had to set out to avenge him. In some of\nthese stories very primitive and savage traits appear, which show\nthat they originated in a rude state of society. But they are about\nmen, not about beasts, as we might have expected of Egyptian\nmythology, and the men are undoubtedly solar heroes; it is the\nfortunes of the daily (not the yearly) sun, his splendid and\nbeneficent reign, his decline, his conflict with the powers of\ndarkness, his decease and his resurrection, or the vengeance exacted\non his behalf by his successor, that are spoken of, in connection now\nwith one god and now with another.\n\nDynasties of Gods.--In the history of Egyptian religion one set of\nsuch gods succeeds another as the prevailing dynasty, according as\nthe seat of empire in the country shifts to a new nome. These\nreligious changes could take place without great convulsions. It was\nonly the attempt to extinguish old established worships that was\nfiercely resisted, not the addition of a new god, even as superior to\nthose already seated in the temple. In the earliest times known to us\nRa of Heliopolis is the chief god of Egypt; Osiris of Thinis (Abydos)\nis also a great god, but the most characteristic development of\nOsiris-worship belongs to a later period. Ptah of Memphis comes to\nthe front in the earliest dynasties. Much later is the rise of Amon\nto the first place, which he held when the Greeks and Romans had to\ndo with Egypt. A very short account only can be given of the sets of\ngods of which these are the heads.\n\nRa.--Ra means \"sun\"; his seat is Heliopolis or \"On,\" where Joseph's\nmaster Potiphera, or \"Priest of Ra,\" lived. Heliopolis is the \"house\nof the obelisk,\" the obelisk being a representation of the sun. First\na kindly old king, he is later a warrior; he has to contend with the\nserpent Apep, the dragon of darkness who appears pierced by the\nshafts of Ra. But as Ra sinks in the conflict he is comforted by\nHathor, the goddess of the western sky, and avenged by Horus, the\never young and ever victorious winged sun.[5] But Ra is a god of the\nunder as well as the upper world. King Pi'anchi, of the twenty-second\ndynasty, entered into the great temple of Ra at Heliopolis and\npenetrated to the inmost chamber of it, afterwards sealing it up\nagain. We are told what he saw there.[6] He looked upon \"his father\nRa,\" and saw the two boats intended for the daily journey of the god.\nRa travels in his boat through the sky, but also at night through the\nunder-world, of which also he is lord. The progress of the god of\nlight through the world of darkness is a theme which was worked out\nlater in much detail in connection with Osiris; but it forms part of\nthe earliest known religious conceptions of the Egyptians, and Ra's\nvoyage through the \"Am Duat\" or under-world, is described in\nconsiderable detail. Many figures accompany him in this voyage, and\nmany are the obstacles to be overcome during the successive hours of\nnight before he reaches again the gates of day. The souls of men who\nhave died are also led by him through those nether spaces; by a\nhidden knowledge, if they have been at pains to possess themselves of\nit, they are able to keep close to Ra on the perilous journey. He\ngives them fields to cultivate in the plains beneath, and they are\nmade glad by his appearance at the appointed hour in the nights that\nfollow.\n\n[Footnote 5: There are in Egyptian religion several gods called\nHorus; this, the oldest one, is fused with Ra, the first sun-god, in\nthe double name Ra-Harmachis, a being to whom the highest attributes\nare given. The symbol of this god is a recumbent lion with a man's\nhead, the figure in which also the kings of Egypt are represented.]\n\n[Footnote 6: See the inscription in _Records of the Past_, ii. 98.]\n\nOsiris, the sun-god of Abydos, is also reported to have been a human\nbeing who was exalted to divine honours. (The god of the under-world\nand judge of the dead, who bears the same name, is a different\nfigure; of him we shall speak afterwards.) He is the most interesting\nand the best known of the gods of Egypt; his myth is found at length\nin Plutarch, with the mystical interpretations proposed for it in\nancient times; he is also the god in whom the affinity of Egyptian\nwith Babylonian religion appears most clearly: cf. chapter vii. Born,\naccording to the myth we mentioned above, at one birth with four\nother gods, of the venerable parents Seb and Nut (see above), he from\nthe first has Isis for his wife and sister, and his brother Set is\nalso born along with him, with whom he lives in perpetual hostility.\nNeither can quite overcome the other, and many are the incidents of\ntheir warfare. As a rule the gods of Egypt are serene and good\nbeings; here only dualism shows itself. Osiris is the good power both\nmorally and in the sphere of outward nature, while Set is the\nembodiment of all that the Egyptian regards as evil,--darkness, the\ndesert, the hot south wind, sickness, and red hair. It is not the\ncase that Set was an imported god and belonged to Semitic invaders,\nbut these invaders found him more suited to their notions of deity\nthan any other god of Egypt, and sought to make him supreme, in\nwhich, however, they could not succeed. The story of the\ndismemberment of Osiris and of the search of Isis for his loved\nremains, which she buried in fourteen different places where she\nfound them, is one which is found connected with other names in other\nlands. Horus is the avenger of his father. Here we have this deity in\nthree stages--Horus the child in his mother's arms, Horus the\navenger, and Horus the successor of his father, the complete sun-god.\n\nThis family of gods is more human and living to us than that of Ra or\nthan any other set of Egyptian deities. It was also more taken up in\nother lands, when the gods of older peoples began to find acceptance\nin the West. We see with special clearness in this case the operation\nof the principle according to which the contrast of light and\ndarkness when represented in the gods passes into that of moral good\nand evil, so that the god of light becomes the great upholder of\nrighteousness and dispenser of beneficence. The good god of Egyptian\nreligion, moreover, is accompanied by a goddess who is somewhat more\nthan the pale reflection of the male god, as most Egyptian goddesses\nare. The incidents of the legend also lend to the divine characters a\ntragic depth in which the prosperous and happy gods of Egypt do not\ngenerally share.\n\nPtah is the god of Memphis, and adjoining his temple is the chapel of\nthe bull Apis, who is called the \"second life of Ptah.\" If these two\nresided side by side, some theory of their relationship was needed,\nand the bull became the earthly representative of the unseen deity.\nEach had a worship of prehistoric antiquity, and it is vain to\ntheorise on their original relation to each other. As for Ptah, his\nname means \"he who forms,\" and the Greeks called him by the name of\ntheir own Hephaistos, the artificer. In later times he came to be\nidentified with the sun, and was called the \"honourable,\" \"golden,\"\n\"beautiful,\" and \"of comely face\"; but earlier he seems rather to\nhave to do with the hidden source of the world's heat, the elemental\nwarmth which is at the beginning of all life. He also is, like Ra and\nOsiris, a god of the under-world to which men go after death. He is\nsaid to open the mouth of the dead--that is to say, that he hears\nthem and judges them. But in the upper-world too he has to do with\njustice; he is called the \"Lord of the Ell,\" a title connecting him\nwith measurements and boundaries, matters of the greatest importance\nin Egypt. His son is Imhotep, he who comes in peace; the Greeks\nregarded this god as a physician, and called him Asclepios. The\ngoddess of the triad is Sechet, who was also worshipped at Bubastis\nunder the name of Bast, and whose symbol is a cat. Ptah, it will be\nseen, is a less distinct figure than either Osiris or Ra, and he very\nreadily passes into combinations with other gods. Ptah-Sokari and\nPtah-Sokar-Osiris are found much more frequently than Ptah alone.\n\nThese are the chief gods of the old kingdom--that is to say, of the\nfirst six dynasties. When we come to the great twelfth dynasty, after\nthe gap in the monuments which extends from 2500-2000 B.C., we find\nthat these gods have become faint and new gods have become supreme,\nnamely, the local gods of Thebes, and of the adjoining nomes. Of\nthese, Amon, god of Thebes, has the most distinguished history,\nthough Chem, the agricultural god of Coptos, and Munt of Hermonthis\nwere originally as important. Amon, the hidden, _i.e._ the hidden\nforce of nature, like Ptah, is seldom found alone; he is generally\ncombined with some other god, especially with Ra. The gods of\nagriculture bow their heads by degrees before the sun-gods who tend\nto draw to themselves all Egyptian worship; rude country\nrepresentations connected with the idea of fertility being\ndiscredited before the religion of the royal temples which was\ndirected mainly to the god of light.\n\nWas the Earliest Religion Monotheistic?--We have mentioned only some\nof the chief gods of Egypt, out of a countless number. These are the\ngods favoured by kings and city priesthoods, who, we cannot doubt,\ndesired the religious elevation of the people. The gods they praised\nwere of a nature to promote that end. It will be granted that the\nworship of the light-gods of Egyptian religion was fitted to lead the\nminds of the Egyptians to theism. In illustration of this statement\nextracts may be here given from hymns, which date as we have them\nfrom the eighteenth dynasty 1590 B.C., but which are probably much\nolder.\n\n\nTO HORUS\n\nThe gods recognise the universal lord.... He judges the world\naccording to his will; heaven and earth are in subjection to him. He\ngiveth his commands to men, to the generations present, past, and\nfuture; to Egyptians and to strangers. The circuit of the solar orb\nis under his direction; the winds, the waters, the wood of the\nplants, and all vegetables. A god of seeds, he giveth all herbs and\nthe abundance of the soil. He affordeth plentifulness, and giveth it\nto all the earth. All men are in ecstasy, all hearts in sweetness,\nall bosoms in joy, every one in adoration. Every one glorifieth his\ngoodness, his tenderness encircles our hearts, great is his love in\nall bosoms.\n\n\nTO TEHUTI OR PTAH\n\nTo him is due the work of the hands, the walking of the feet, the\nsight of the eyes, the hearing of the ears, the breathing of the\nnostrils, the courage of the heart, the vigour of the hand, activity\nin body and in mouth of all the gods and men, and of all living\nanimals; intelligence and speech, whatever is in the heart and\nwhatever is on the tongue.\n\n\nTO PTAH-TANEN\n\nO let us give glory to the god who hath raised up the sky and who\ncauseth his disk to float over the bosom of Nut, who hath made the\ngods and men and all their generations, who hath made all lands and\ncountries and the great sea, in his name of \"Let-the-earth-be.\"\n\n\nTO AMON-RA\n\nHail to thee, maker of all beings, lord of law, father of the gods;\nmaker of men, creator of beasts; lord of grains, making food for the\nbeast of the field.... The one without a second.... King alone,\nsingle among the gods; of many names, unknown is their number.\n\n\nThere is a beautiful hymn addressed to the Nile, who is also\nconceived as the chief deity and the ruler, nourisher, and comforter\nof all creatures. From these hymns and others like them, important\nconclusions have been drawn as to the nature of the earliest Egyptian\nreligion; namely, that those who wrote such pieces must have been\nacquainted with the one true god and addressed him under these\nvarious names, so that the true origin of Egyptian religion would be\na primitive monotheism.\n\nThere are some texts indeed which seem to point even more strongly\nthan those cited to the conclusion that Egyptian religion started\nfrom the belief in one supreme deity. Mr. Le Page Renouf quotes along\nwith the passages above, one from a Turin papyrus, in which words are\nput into the mouth of the Almighty God, the self-existent, who made\nheaven and earth, the waters, the breaths of life, fire, the gods,\nmen, animals, cattle, reptiles, birds, etc. This being speaks as\nfollows:--\n\n  I am the maker of the heaven and the earth.... It is I who have\n  given to all the gods the soul which is within them. When I open my\n  eyes there is light, when I close them there is darkness. I am\n  Chepera in the morning, Ra at noon, Tum in the evening.\n\nM. de la Rouge maintains that Egyptian religion, monotheistic at\nfirst, with a noble belief in the unity of the Supreme God and in His\nattributes as the Creator and Law-giver of man, fell away from that\nposition and grew more and more polytheistic. \"It is more than 5000\nyears since in the valley of the Nile the hymn began to the unity of\nGod and the immortality of the soul, and we find Egypt arrived in the\nlast ages at the most unbridled Polytheism.\"\n\nThe sublimer part of Egyptian religion is demonstrably ancient, as\nMr. Le Page Renouf says; yet we are not shut up to the conclusion\nthat Egyptian religion as a whole is nothing but a backsliding and a\nfailure. If we were obliged to regard that monotheism which Egypt had\nat first but failed to maintain, as a gift conferred from above,\nwhich human powers proved unequal to conserve, then the opening of\nthe history of this religion would be indeed most melancholy. But\nthough monotheism appeared in Egypt so early, there is no necessity\nto think that it was not attained by human powers. For all we know,\nit was not an early but a mature product of thought, and was reached\nafter a long development. It is not impossible for the human mind,\nstarting from the works of God, to rise by its own efforts to the\nbelief in His invisible power and Godhead. The beginnings of this\nrise of thought may be witnessed among savages, and the Egyptians in\ntheir secluded valley had an opportunity such as no other nation had,\nto work out, as their civilisation grew up from rude beginnings to\nits unequalled splendour, a noble view of the Deity whose works they\nadored. The god ruling from his heaven of light over the great empire\nof a monarch who knew no equal in the world, possessing for his\nearthly abode a temple of unsurpassed magnificence, uniting perhaps\nunder his sway districts long at war and extending his influence over\nremote continents as the armies of Egypt prospered, such a being drew\nto himself from his worshipping retinue of priests and nobles, the\nhighest praise and adoration, was exalted far above all other powers\nin heaven and earth, and extolled even as the Creator and Ruler of\nall.\n\nMonotheism is thus approached in thought, but only in a prophetic and\nanticipatory way; the circumstances of the country forbade its\nrealisation as a general belief or as a working system. Even in the\nhighest flights of those early thinkers, when they seem to be\nspeaking of a god quite universal and supreme, it is a local deity\nthat lies at the basis of their speculations, a being who has his\ntemple in a certain place, who is symbolised in a certain animal, who\nhas a local legend and a limited popular worship. These are the facts\nthat clog the wings of Egyptian monotheistic speculation and bring it\nto the earth again. Pure monotheism accordingly, the belief in a god\nbeside whom no other god exists, it might be hard to find in Egypt at\nall. The last extract given above comes nearest to it; but the last\nline of that extract cannot be called monotheistic.\n\nAn attempted religious reformation at the end of the eighteenth\ndynasty may be mentioned here, as it appears to have aimed at\nconcentrating all the worship of Egypt on a single object. The object\nchosen, however, was a material one,--the sun's disk, Aten,--and\nthough all Egyptian gods tended to become sun-gods, some sun-gods, no\ndoubt, were better than others, and Aten was not the finest of them.\nKing Chut-en-Aten, or Glory of the Sun-disk, the royal fanatic who\nmade this attempt at unity, went great lengths to accomplish his\nobject, but the attempt was a failure, and was abandoned after his\ndeath even by the members of his own family. What Chut-en-Aten tried\nto introduce perhaps came nearer true monotheism than anything that\never existed in Egypt. He made war on other gods and wished to\nestablish one only god in the land, but this exclusiveness the\nEgyptians could not understand. The Egyptian believed in many gods,\nand while worshipping one god with fervour, by no means denied the\nexistence or the power of others in other places. Even foreign\ndeities were in his eyes real and potent beings, each in his own\nterritory. It is henotheism, not monotheism, that we see in this most\nreligious land; the worship of one god at a time while other gods are\nalso believed to exist and act. The one god who is before the mind of\nthe worshipper is exalted above the rest, and spoken of as if no\nother god required to be considered; but the worshipper does not\ndream as yet of questioning the existence of other gods, or feel\nhimself debarred from worshipping them if he should visit their\ncountry.\n\nSyncretism.--The hymns contain several other speculative positions\nabout the gods (chapter iv.), and we may briefly mention these.\nSyncretism, as we saw, is very largely represented in Egyptian\nthought, and enters, indeed, into its very bone and marrow. In the\nennead of a city the great gods may be arranged together after the\nfashion of a court where one or two rule over the rest; but in\nnumberless passages we find the relations of gods adjusted in another\nway, by making them one. Ra \"comes as\" Tum, the god is known here\nunder one name or aspect and there under another. The names of two\ndeities being added together, a new deity is produced; and in later\ntimes these gods with double, treble, or multiple names are among the\nmost important. Raharmachis and Amonra are national gods, and have\nleft much evidence of themselves.\n\nIt is a little step from syncretism to pantheism. Let the gods once\nlose the individual character that keeps them separate from each\nother, and it is possible for one god, who grows strong and great\nenough, to swallow up all the rest, till they appear only as his\nforms. In the position which they occupied in Egypt the various gods\ncould not disappear, their local connections kept them alive; but\nthey were so like one another that one of them could be regarded as a\nform of another, and a multitude of them as forms of one. The god who\ndid most in the way of swallowing up the rest was Ra, the great\nsun-god of Thebes. The Litany of Ra[7] represents that god as eternal\nand self-begotten, and sings in seventy-five successive verses\nseventy-five forms which he assumes; they are the forms of the gods\nand of all the great elements and parts of the world. The separate\ngods are reduced from the rank of independent potentates to shapes of\nRa, and thus a kind of unity is set up in the populous Egyptian\nPantheon. But Ra is not strong enough to get the better of these\nshapes, and to rule a sole monarch by his own right, in his own way.\nHe is the god, but he is not an independent god; it is pantheism, not\ntheism, to which he owes his exaltation. The one in Egypt cannot\ngovern the many; the pure exaltation of Ra as a supreme and absolute\ngod does not prevent the worship of a different being in each\ndifferent town. The one sole god is for the priests alone, not for\nthe people; and this belief in him does not even lead to attempts to\nroot out the worship of animals, or to concentrate the service of the\ntemples on him alone. And in the absence of such attempts we read the\nsentence condemning a religion which produced most noble fruits of\nthought, to grow worse and not better as time went on, and to pass\naway without bringing any permanent contribution to the development\nof the religion of the world.\n\n[Footnote 7: _Records of the Past_, viii. 105.]\n\nWorship.--The Egyptian temple was constructed rather to afford the\ngod a splendid residence among his people than to accommodate a large\ncongregation at an act of worship. The temple was the public place of\nthe community, its point of meeting (for the Egyptian town has no\nmarket-place), and its fortress when attacked (for the town is not\nfortified). But while the courts of the temple were open to the\npeople, there was a holy place which only the priests might enter,\nwhere the sacred ark, the symbol of the god, remained, and where\nsacrifices were offered. The images about the temple were not placed\nthere to be worshipped, but were votive offerings meant to provide\nthe god with a body which he might enter when he chose. The obelisk\nis such a symbol or incorporation of the sun. On certain days the\nsacred objects and animals were taken in procession through the\ntemple grounds, or made voyages on the lake belonging to the temple,\nor were even taken through the nome among the fields and dwellings of\ntheir people; and on these occasions representations took place\nsymbolising the principal events in the history of the god. It was\nthus that the private individual came to know the god; it was a great\nfestival and an occasion of the utmost joy when the divine protectors\nand benefactors of the nome, who generally remained in their splendid\nretirement, came forth to mingle for a brief space with the faithful\ncommunity. The worship of the gods was in Egypt, as in every nation\nof the ancient world, a matter of state, not of individual concern.\nIt is the chief branch of the public service; the state is under the\ndirect rule of the gods; never was there a more absolute theocracy.\nThe king is a child of the god,--a conception often treated in the\nmost material way,--and being thus of more than human race, becomes\nhimself the object of worship, and even offers sacrifice to himself.\nIt is one of the king's chief cares to provide a stately dwelling for\nthe god; the king himself offers sacrifice on the most important\noccasions. The god in his sacred ark goes with his people when they\nare at war and fights along with them, so that every war is a holy\nwar. The priests are public officials, and often exercise immense\ninfluence. The king institutes them into their functions; they are\nexempt, as we may read in Genesis, from public burdens; every\nfunction involving learning or art is in their hands. Framed in such\ninstitutions religion is not likely to have any free growth; the time\nis far distant here when men will form voluntary associations of\ntheir own for spiritual ends. Yet, no doubt, the lay Egyptian had a\nprivate religion of his own as well as his share in the great public\nacts he witnessed. Though the gods of Egypt are nearly all good, the\nevil power Set was much worshipped, and would be approached in\nprivate as well as in the public acts depicted on the monuments, by\nall who had anything to fear from him--that is to say, by all. Every\none had to treat with kindness and respect the animal species sacred\nin his nome, and other sacred animals. The belief in magic was\nstrong; hidden powers had to be reckoned with on manifold occasions;\nsickness was imputed to the agency of evil spirits, and treated by\nexorcism, by persons duly trained and learned in such arts. Lucky and\nunlucky days, and days suitable or unsuitable for particular\nundertakings, filled the calendar; the belief in amulets and charms\nwas universal. Such things we expect to find among the people, even\nwhere religious thought has risen highest.\n\n\nTHE DOCTRINE OF THE OTHER LIFE\n\nMost of our knowledge about ancient Egypt is drawn from the tombs. No\nother nation ever bestowed so much care on the dead as the Egyptians\ndid, nor thought of the other world so much. The living had to\nprepare for his further existence after death, and the dead claimed\nfrom his successors on earth elaborate offices of piety. It is in\nthis part of the religion that there is most growth, and this part of\nit in its ultimate form is best known.\n\n1. Treatment of the Dead.--The doctrine of the other world takes its\nrise with the Egyptians in the belief common to all early races,\nwhich was described above (chapter iii.). The spirit still lives when\nthe body dies, and it comes back to the body, and is affected by the\ntreatment the body receives. To care for the dead is the first duty\nof the living, and a man must marry in order to have offspring who\nwill pay him the necessary attention after his death. Various things\nare buried with the corpse for the use of the spirit, and offerings\nare made to it from time to time afterwards. This is no more than the\ncommon primitive belief, but the Egyptians carried it out more fully\nin practice than any other people. They sought to make the body\nincorruptible, embalming it and restoring to it all its organs, so\nthat the spirit should be able to discharge every function of life.\nThey placed the mummy if possible in such a situation that it should\nnever be disturbed to the end of time; the grave they called an\neternal dwelling. They even instituted endowments to secure due\nofferings to the dead in all coming time.\n\nCultivated as this part of religion was in Egypt, it could not fail\nto assume a special character. For one thing, there is a variety of\nnames for what survives of man after death; we hear of his heart, his\nsoul, his shade, his luminosity; and in the later doctrine these are\nall combined and made parts of one theory; all the different parts of\nthe man have to come together again after their dispersion at death\nbefore his person is complete. The principal term, however, is the\n\"ka,\" image, or, as we say, genius, of the man, a non-substantial\ndouble of him which has journeys and adventures to make, and to which\nthe offerings are addressed. The \"ka\" needs food, and regular gifts\nare made to it of all it can require; it needs guidance and\ninstruction, and these can be conveyed to it by pictures and writings\non the walls of the tomb or in the mummy-case; even its amusement and\nits need of society and of ministration can be to some extent met in\nthis way. It is not peculiar to Egypt that the advantages of wealth\nand rank are continued after death, and that the rich can do much\nmore, or cause much more to be done for his eternal welfare, than the\npoor. The king's mummy lies in a pyramid, where it will never be\nmoved; that of the noble in a rock-tomb or a stately edifice or\n\"mastaba\"; the poor man has to be content with an inferior kind of\nembalming, and a tomb of tiles if he gets any at all; and no priest\ncan be retained to pray for him.\n\n2. The Spirit in the Under-world.--Before history opens, this common\nbelief and practice in regard to the dead had come to be combined in\nEgypt with the worship of a solar deity; a step of immense\nimportance, which added immeasurably to the pathos and the moral\npower of this kind of religion.\n\nMilton says in _Lycidas_--\n\n    So sinks the daystar in the ocean bed;\n    And yet anon repairs his drooping head,\n    And tricks his beams, and with new-spangled ore\n    Flames in the forehead of the morning sky;\n    So Lycidas sank low, but mounted high.\n\nBut what to Milton was a poetic imagination was to the early Egyptian\na serious belief. If the sun was his god, he did not say like\nWordsworth in his early period--\n\n    Our fate how different from thine, blest star, in this,\n    That no to-morrow shall our beams restore,\n\nbut he was convinced that the history of his god, who sank under the\nWestern horizon, and after a period of darkness came back again to\nlight and triumph, was an undoubted indication of what he himself had\nto look for after death. The mummy was carried across the Nile and\ndeposited in the west land, which is also the under-world, to share\nin the repose and in the further progress of the dead. As the jackal\npervades that region, the dead is left to the care of Anubis, the\njackal-headed deity, who opens paths to him for further travel, and\nleads him into the presence of the gods. The under-world is\nelaborately portioned out into various parts and scenes, and manifold\nare the shapes of evil and mischief with which it is peopled. On the\nother hand, it contains abundance of blessings, which the departed\nmay secure if the proper means have been taken by himself and by his\nfriends surviving him. The earthly life is there repeated with all\nits occupations and enjoyments, but free from fear and from decay.\n\nThe doctrine of the dead accompanying the sun-god to the under-world,\nand living under his protection, is very old in Egypt; we saw it in\nan early form in connection with the god Ra. It was in connection\nwith Osiris, however, that it attained its widest diffusion; to the\nwhole Egyptian people Osiris was the lord of the world below, with\nwhom the departed were. The identification of the departed with\nOsiris was thorough and complete; he becomes Osiris, takes the name\nof the deity, and is known in the inscriptions as \"Osiris N. N.\" Isis\nis his sister, Horus his defender, Anubis his herald and guide, and\nhaving shared the god's eclipse, he is also to share his triumph and\nrevival.\n\n3. The Book of the Dead, the most famous relic of Egyptian\nliterature, is a collection of pieces many of which are very ancient,\nbearing on the passage of the soul through the under-world. The book\nhas also been called the _Funeral Ritual_; a better translation of\nthe title is, \"Book of Coming out from the Day.\" The earthly life is\nthe day from which the deceased comes forth into the larger existence\nof the world beyond. The book (or such parts of it as may be used in\neach case) is the soul's _vade mecum_ for the under-world, and\ncontains the forms the soul must have at command in order to ward off\nall the dangers of that region, and to secure an easy and happy\npassage through it. How the person is to be reconstructed, the\ndifferent parts coming back to be built up again in one, how he is to\nknow the spirits he meets, how he is to get the gates opened for\nhim,--such are the subjects of various chapters; and the soul's\nsuccess in its passage depends on its knowledge of these. The words\nthey contain are not merely information, they have magic power to\nsmooth away obstacles and to open doors. Hence it is important for a\nman to have learned them when alive, and, to assist his memory, a few\nchapters are written on papyrus or linen, and the rolls placed with\nthe mummy in its case, or they are written on the walls of the tomb.\nNo other Egyptian work, in consequence, has been preserved in so many\ncopies, but one roll or set of inscriptions contains one set of\nchapters and another another set.\n\nDoes the fate of the individual after death depend then entirely on\nmagic; is it a question of how many of these formulae he is able to\nremember, or how many his relatives have got written out for him? Do\nno doubts intrude on his mind lest, even if he has all the requisite\nknowledge at command, he himself should be found unworthy to live\nwith the immortals? For the most part the _Book of the Dead_ stands\non the earlier position at which man never thinks of doubting the\nfavour of his god, and trusts to overcome what is hostile by having\nhis magic ready, not by having his heart pure. But in several\nchapters a deeper tone is heard. There is a form for having the stain\nrubbed away from the heart of the Osiris, and if there are abundant\ndirections for outward purification, there are also directions for\nhaving his sins forgiven. In the great 125th chapter the deceased\nenters the Hall of the two Truths, and is separated from his sins\nafter he has seen the faces of the gods. Here he stands before\nforty-two judges (compare the number of the nomes of Egypt) styled\nLords of Truth, each of whom is there to judge of a particular sin,\nand to each he has to profess that he did not when on earth commit\nthat sin. I have not stolen, he has to say; I have not played the\nhypocrite, I have not stolen the things of the gods, I have not made\nconspiracies, I have not blasphemed, I have not clipped the skins of\nthe sacred beasts, I have not injured the gods, I have not\ncalumniated the slave to his master; and so on. The line is not yet\nclearly drawn between moral and ritual or conventional offences; and\nmoral duty is expressed in a negative form, and appears as a shackle,\nnot as an inspiration. Yet the very great advance has been made here,\nthat divine law watches not only over specially religious matters but\nover social life, and even over the thoughts of the individual heart.\nThe gods enjoin on a man not only to offer sacrifice and to respect\nthe sacred beasts, but also to do his duty as a citizen and as a\nneighbour, and to keep his own lips unpolluted and his own heart\npure. It is to the same effect when we find that a man's\njustification depends on the state of his heart at death. His heart\nis weighed against the truth, and if it is found defective, he cannot\nlive again; if it turns out well, then he is justified and goes to\nthe fields of Aalu, the place of the blessed of Osiris.\n\n\nCONCLUSION\n\nThis doctrine of the life to come, like the theistic doctrine the\nEgyptians at one time attained, might have seemed destined to lead to\na pure spiritual faith, from which superstition should have\ndisappeared. But in neither case is that result attained. The later\nhistory of Egyptian religion is that of the increase of magic, and of\nthe rise of a priestly class absorbing to itself, as the older\npriests who were closely connected with the civil life of the nation\nhad never done, all the functions of religion. Doctrine grows more\npantheistic and more recondite, mysteries and symbols are multiplied,\nall to the increase of the influence of the priesthood, and to the\ninfinite exercise of ingenuity in coming times. Popular religion, on\nthe other hand, comes to be more taken up with such matters as charms\nand amulets and horoscopes; and while morals did not decline from the\nhigh level they had gained from the reign of the gods of light, the\nspirit of the nation lost vigour under the growth of religiosity at\nthe expense of patriotism, and healthy reform grew more and more\nimpossible. What of the religion of Egypt lived on in other lands\nwhich felt her influence, it is hard to say. The religious art of\nEgypt, and with it no doubt some tincture of the ideas it embodied,\nundoubtedly went northwards to Phenicia; and Greece owed to Phenicia,\nas we shall see, many a suggestion in religious matters. Long before\nIsis and Serapis were introduced in Rome in their own persons, the\nlegend of Osiris had flourished in Greece under new names, and the\nGreek doctrine of the life to come, taught in the mysteries, has\nsuggested to some scholars an Egyptian origin. To the Greeks and\nRomans this religion afforded an infinity of puzzles and mysteries;\nto the modern world it affords the greatest example of a religion the\nearly promise of which was not fulfilled, the splendid moral\naspirations of which were stifled amid the superstitions they were\ntoo weak to conquer.\n\n\nBOOKS RECOMMENDED\n\nFor general information Wilkinson's _Egyptians_.\n\nE. A. W. Budge, _History of Egypt_, vols. i.-viii., 1902-03.\n\nE. A. W. Budge, _The Mummy_; chapters on Egyptian funeral archaeology,\nCambridge, 1893.\n\nE. A. W. Budge, _The Book of the Dead_, English Translation of the\nTheban Recension, 3 vols., 1910.\n\nFlinders Petrie, _A History of Egypt_.\n\nFlinders Petrie, in _Oxford Proceedings_, vol. i. p. 184, _sqq._\n\nThe Histories of Antiquity of Duncker, Maspero, and especially Ed.\nMeyer.\n\nErman, _Life in Ancient Egypt_, 1894.\n\nMaspero, _Manual of Egyptian Archaeology_, Second Edition, 1895.\n\nRenouf's _Hibbert Lectures_.\n\nTiele, _History of the Egyptian Religion_, translated by Ballingal.\n\nWiedemann, _Aegyptische Geschichte_, 1884-88; \"Die Religion der alten\nAegyptier,\" 1890; also \"Egyptian Religion,\" in Hastings' _Bible\nDictionary_, vol. v.\n\nA. O. Lange, \"Die Aegypter\" in De la Saussaye. _Records of the Past_,\nFirst Series (1873-81), vols. ii., iv., vi., viii., x., xii. Second\nSeries, 1888-92, vols. ii.-vi.\n\nBenson and Gourlay, _The Temple of Mut in Asher_, 1899.\n\nNaville, _The Old Egyptian Faith_, translated by Colin Campbell,\n1909.\n\nColin Campbell, _Two Theban Queens_, 1909. A study of the\ninscriptions in two royal tombs.\n\n\n\n\nPART III\nTHE SEMITIC GROUP\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER X\nTHE SEMITIC RELIGION\n\n\nAs used by the modern scholar, the term Semites or Semitic races\nincludes the Arabs, the Hebrews, the Canaanites and Phenicians, the\nSyrians or Arameans, the Babylonians and the Assyrians. This\nenumeration differs from that of the tenth chapter of Genesis, where\nthe children of Shem include Elam, or the dwellers in Susiana, and\nLud or the Lydians, while the tribes who dwelt in Canaan before the\nHebrews are placed in another and a lower division of the human\nfamily. The principle of the enumeration in Genesis is probably that\nof geographical neighbourhood; the modern principle is that of\nlinguistic affinity. The peoples mentioned above spoke, or still\nspeak, languages which belong to the same family of human speech. The\ninference from affinity of language to affinity of blood is in this\ncase a strong one, so that the peoples using the Semitic tongues are\nconsidered to be of the same race. To the question, where the cradle\nof the Semitic race is to be sought, most scholars now answer that we\nmust seek it in Arabia. From this isolated land the Semitic\ndispersion spread in every direction, till Semitic language and\ncustoms filled the earth from the south of Arabia to the north of\nSyria, and from the mountains of Iran to the Mediterranean, and far\nalong the northern shores of Africa; of Babylonia and Assyria, where\nSemitic culture and religion assumed at the dawn of human history a\nvery special and peculiar form, we have already spoken. We have now\nto speak of Semitic religion as found in the lands bordering on the\neastern Mediterranean in a more original form. The Semitic peoples\noutside of Babylonia founded no lasting empires, and showed no great\naptitude for art or for literary style; but, in point of religion,\nthey communicated to the world impulses of immeasurable force, which\nwill act powerfully on the world as long as the Prophet is named or\nChrist preached.\n\nIt is possible to define to a certain extent the typical religion of\nthe Semites. The Burnett lectures of the late lamented Professor\nRobertson Smith[1] profess to do this; a book in which great learning\nand bold speculation are remarkably combined, and which forms one of\nthe most important contributions to the early history, not of Semitic\nreligion only, but of early religion in general. The writer was\nkeenly interested in the study of prehistoric man and of primitive\ninstitutions, and much of his book refers to an earlier period in the\ngrowth of religion than that of the formation of the Semitic type. On\nthe question of the specific character of Semitic as distinguished\nfrom other religions, it is one of our principal authorities.\n\n[Footnote 1: _Lectures on the Religion of the Semites_. First Series.\nThe Fundamental Institutions, 1889.]\n\nThe Semitic races differ from the Indo-European, with whom alone we\nneed compare them, in their greater intensity of disposition and a\ncorresponding poverty of imagination. The Semite has a smaller range\nof ideas, but he applies them more practically and more thoroughly.\nHe has, indeed, an intensely practical turn, and does not touch\nphilosophy except under an irresistible pressure of great practical\nideas; while for plastic art he has no native inclination. From this\nit follows that the religious views he entertains appear to him less\nas ideas than as facts, which must be reckoned with to their full\nextent as other common facts of life must, and from which there is no\nescape. His religious convictions, therefore, are apt to be carried\nout to their utmost extent, even at the cost of great and painful\nsacrifices. Religion admits with the Semite of less compromise, and\nis less affected by fancy, than with the Aryan; it is, in fact, a\nmore practical matter. The result proves to be that the Semitic mind\nbrings religious ideas to bear on life and conduct with the greatest\npossible force; the substance is more, the form less, than is the\ncase elsewhere.\n\nWhen we ask for the common type of working Semitic religion, where\nare we to look for it? Not in Babylonia; the characteristic\nBabylonian religion is Semitic, but late Semitic; it has received the\nimpress of high civilisation and of empire. Nor need we look for it\nin the town life of Phenicia. It is in the seclusion of the Arabian\npeninsula that we find it, in the district, as we saw, now regarded\nas the cradle of the Semitic race, where life continues to this day\nlittle changed from what it was before the days of Abraham. There the\ntype of society still exists with which scholars like Wellhausen and\nSmith consider the earliest Semitic religion to be connected. It is a\nsociety of nomad clans, which own no allegiance to any central\nauthority, which have no king and do not yet form a nation. This is a\nstage of social growth which in every ancient people precedes the\nrise of the nation and of monarchy. The Hebrews are rising out of\nthis stage when we first see them. Their neighbours the Moabites and\nCanaanites have already passed beyond it. But all these peoples alike\nhave their root in a state of society when there was no large and\norderly community, but only a multitude of small and restless tribes,\nwhen there was no written law, but only custom, and when there was no\ncentral authority to execute justice, but it was left to a man's\nfellow-clansmen to avenge his murder.\n\nNow the religion of the clan, the ideas of which determine the\ncharacter of later Semitic systems, may be briefly described as\nfollows. Each clan has its own god, perhaps he was originally an\nanimal, at any rate he is the father or ancestor of the clan, he is\nof the same blood with them, he belongs to them and to no other clan.\nSo far the assertion that the Semites are naturally monotheists is\ntrue; but the same is true of all totemistic or clannish communities.\nA man is born into a community with such a divine head, and the\nworship of that god is the only one possible to him. Should he be\nexpelled from his clan he is driven away from his god, and he cannot\nobtain access into another clan except by a formal adoption as a\nstranger client. The link, on the other hand between the god and his\nclansmen is of the strongest. He joins in all their enterprises,\nafter being consulted on the subject, and having a sacrifice offered\nto him, which renews the union of the clansmen to him and to each\nother. Their wars are his wars; when any of them is injured or slain\nhe joins in their necessary acts of retaliation; it is a religious\nduty for each of them to be faithful to the others, and to keep up\nthe tribal customs, of which the god approves.\n\nThus the Semites have as many gods as they have clans; and these gods\ndo not greatly differ from each other. As long, moreover, as the\nclans are at constant feud, no single god can grow very great. It is\nonly when one clan conquers others, that a king-god can arise to rule\nover all alike as a monarch rules over his nobles and their\nprovinces. But in this type of deity the genius of Semitic religion\nis already expressed. The god of the Semite is not a nature-power who\nbears the same aspect to all men, but a member of a particular clan,\na person to whom the clansman occupies the same position of natural\nsubordination as he does to his father or his chief. The god takes\nhis name not from a part of nature but from a human relationship. He\nis \"Baal,\" master or owner, he is \"Adon,\" lord; in later\ncircumstances he is \"Melech,\" king. \"El,\" mighty one, hero, is a more\ngeneric term; like our \"God,\" it is applied to any divine being.\nThese deities, it will be noticed, are all masculine; but it is not\nto be supposed that the Semites had no goddesses. Not to speak of the\ngoddesses of Babylonia, mere doubles of the gods whose names they\nbore (chapter vii.), the earliest Semites are believed by several\ngreat scholars to have had a goddess but no god. The matriarchal\nstate of society, in which the mother alone ruled the family, came\nbefore the patriarchal, and so the reign of the goddess came before\nthat of the god. Each community has its own Al-lat, \"The Lady,\" as\nshe is called in Arabia, a strict and exacting lady, not to be\nconfounded with the licentious goddesses of later times; and in all\nSemitic lands traces of her early prevalence are found.[2] As the\nmale god came to the front, the female became a less definite figure,\ntill she was generally a mere counterpart of the male god, with\nlittle character of her own. With gods of this type there is little\nscope for mythology. The history of the god is that of the tribe; the\ngods are too little independent of their human clients to form a\nsociety by themselves, or to give rise to stories about their doings.\n\n[Footnote 2: See Robertson Smith's _Kinship and Marriage in Early\nArabia_.]\n\nThis is one side of the natural history of the Semitic gods; but that\nhistory has another side. The lands in which the Semites dwelt were\nfull from the first of sacred spots; and we have to notice that the\ngod of a clan is also the god of a certain piece of earth where he is\nsupposed to dwell, which is regarded as his property, and the\nfertility of which is ascribed to his beneficence. In the Bible we\nread of sacred trees, of sacred wells, of sacred stones or mounds,\nand of stones or pillars which were connected with sacrifice. In\nvarious Semitic lands there are also sacred streams and sacred caves.\nThe Semites in fact had their share of the inheritance the whole\nworld has derived from the earliest times, of prehistoric religious\nsites and objects. A spirit spoke in the rustling of the branches of\nthe tree, counsel could be procured at the spring; wherever there\nappeared to be something mysterious in nature, a spirit was believed\nto dwell; and especially in woods and fertile spots, where wild\nbeasts originally had their lair, a spirit was thought to reside,\nwhich was approached with fear. Many of these superstitions the\nvarious branches of the Semites long continued to hold;[3] but the\nrace superseded in the main this world of spirits by a set of gods,\nand the magic addressed to spirits by religious observances addressed\nto gods. The genius or jinn haunting the thicket, who had no regular\nworshippers, but was an object of fear to all, and had to be\npropitiated or controlled by mysterious arts, gave way to the god of\na clan, who took up his residence there, and received the regular\nworship of his clansmen; the stone became the symbol of a deity who\nhad been asked and had consented to become identified with it for the\npurpose of the stated rites of the clan. In this way the clan gods\nbecame localised as the clans tended to acquire fixed settlements,\nand each sacred spot was occupied by the deity of the clan who dwelt\naround it. The view was held that each god was to be found at the\nspot where, on some marked occasion, he had given evidence of his\npower, and he who wished to enquire of that god had to go there. It\nmight happen that the god manifested his power at another spot to one\nof his dependents on a journey, as Jehovah did to Jacob at Bethel\n(Genesis xxviii.). Then that spot also was recognised as a holy one\nwhere communication could be had with the deity, and the apparatus of\nworship was erected there so that the intercourse might be suitably\ncarried on, as Jacob is reported to have done. In time also it came\nto be thought that each god had his land which belonged to him, on\nwhich alone his worship was possible, and so the earth was parcelled\nout among a number of deities; and Naaman, who wishes to worship\nJehovah in his Syrian home, carries off two mules' burden of\nJehovah's soil, to make in the midst of Syria a little piece of the\nland of the God of Israel (2 Kings v.).\n\n[Footnote 3: The late Professor Ives Curtius in a paper read to the\nBasel Congress (1905, _Verhandlungen_, p. 154), on \"Traces of Early\nSemitic Religion in Syria,\" gives details of local sanctuaries still\nresorted to in that country.]\n\nOne circumstance remains to be mentioned which constitutes a marked\ndifference between the Semitic and the Aryan religions. Aryan\nreligion has its centre in the household; the hearth is its altar,\nand the gods of the domestic cult are the departed ancestors of the\nfamily. Semitic religion is without this cult; the hearth is not an\naltar; the religious community is not the family but the clan. The\nworship of ancestors, if, as there is reason to believe, it had once\nbeen practised by the Semites (the Arabs tied a camel to the grave of\nthe dead chief), lost at a very early period all practical\nimportance. While the early Semites believed in the continued\nexistence of the departed, they thought of them as beings quite\ndestitute of energy, as \"shades laid in the ground,\" and did not\nworship them. The other world occupied, therefore, a very small space\nin Semitic thought. Religion confined itself to this life; after\ndeath, it was held, even religion came to an end. A man must enjoy\nthe society of his god in this life; after death he could take part\nin no sacrifice, and could render to his god no thanks nor service.\n\nFrom what has been said the character of sacrifice among the Semites\nis readily understood. Sacrifice is not domestic but takes place at\nthe spot where the god is thought to reside, or where the symbol\nstands which represents him. Usually this was an upright monolith,\nsuch as is found in every part of the world, and the central act of\nthe sacrifice consisted in applying the blood of the new-slain victim\nto this stone. The blood was thus brought near to the god, the\nclansmen also may have touched the blood at the same time; and the\nact meant that the god and the tribesmen, all coming into contact\nwith the blood, which originally perhaps was that of the animal totem\nof the clan, declared that they were of the same blood, and renewed\nthe bond which connected them with each other. A further feature of\nearly Semitic sacrifice is also that the slaughter and the blood\nceremony are succeeded by a banquet, at which the god is thought to\nsit at table with his clients, his share being exposed for him on the\nstone or altar. When he came to be believed to dwell aloft, his share\nwas burned with fire so that the smell or finer essence of it might\nascend to him. Many examples may be collected in the early historical\nbooks of the Old Testament of sacrifices which are at the same time\nsocial and festive occasions; in fact, in early Israel every act of\nslaughter was a sacrifice, and every sacrifice a banquet. The people\ndance and make merry before their god, of whose favour they have just\nbecome assured once more by the act of communion they have observed.\nThe undertaking they have on hand is hallowed by his approval, so\nthat they can boldly advance to it; the corporate spirit of the tribe\nis quickened by renewed contact with its head; all thoughts of care\nare far away; the religious act makes the worshippers simply and\nunaffectedly happy, if it does not even fill them with an orgiastic\necstasy.\n\nThis careless happiness, in connection with religious acts, is found\nalso in Babylonian sacrifice. It is not, however, peculiar to the\nSemites, but is characteristic of the religion of the early world in\ngeneral. Nor is it peculiar to this race that religion does not\naddress the individual as such, but only as a member of his tribe,\nand that it provides small comfort for private sorrows or longings.\nThe sad face is out of place in the presence of the god. Religion is\nessentially a happy thing; sin is not yet thought of, and if things\ngo wrong, the tribe never entertains any doubt but that with proper\nsacrifices and promises the god will show them his favour again and\nrenew their prosperity. All this is not specially Semitic, but simply\nearly religion. What is specially Semitic is, to repeat that with\nwhich we set out, that gods are worshipped whose relations to their\nworshippers are borrowed from existing forms of society. The god is\nthe father or the master or the champion, of the circle of\nworshippers; he is of their kindred, he is their greatest and\nstrongest clansman, he belongs to them and to none but them. This,\nwhether it is derived--as Professor Robertson Smith thinks--from the\nideas of totemism or not, leads to a religion which is exclusive and\nintense, and cannot be trifled with. The god who is a man's master,\nand the head of his clan, stands in a more imperative position\ntowards him than the god of the sky, or than a departed ancestor. He\ndoes not change with the seasons or the weather, nor is there any\ndoubt as to his intentions and demands. Semitic religion, even at\nthis stage, is a very real thing, and may easily, in favouring\ncircumstances, become a force of overmastering energy.\n\n\nBOOKS RECOMMENDED\n\nHommel, _Die Semitischen Voelker und Sprachen_.\n\n\"Semites,\" by McCurdy, in Hastings' _Bible Dictionary_, vol. v.\n\nCumont, _Les Religions orientales dans la Paganisme Romain_, 1907.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XI\nCANAANITES AND PHENICIANS\n\n\nWhen the Children of Israel crossed the Jordan and settled in\nPalestine, they found that country inhabited by a race of men who\nspoke the same language as themselves, and who were much further\nadvanced than they in civilisation. The letters of El-Amarna which\nbelong to this period show Syria to have been full of small\ntheocratic states, all pervaded, though now under the power of Egypt,\nby Babylonian culture, each with a god and a settled worship of its\nown. The Israelites of a later time regarded the Canaanites with such\ndisdain that they reckoned them (Genesis x. 6, 15) as belonging to an\ninferior race; but the two peoples belonged to the same race, and had\nmany common ideas and practices. In religion they resembled each\nother, or Israel could never have been tempted so strongly, and for\nso long a period, to adopt the rites of the people they conquered.\n\nThe Israelites were not the only people who invaded the land of the\nCanaanites and stayed in it. Three such invasions took place: those\nof the Phenicians, of the Philistines, and of the Hebrews--the first\nand third being Semitic peoples, and perhaps the second also. The\nPhilistines, settling on the south-eastern corner of the\nMediterranean, had a Semitic religion, of which the fish-god Dagon,\nthe Fly-Baal of Ekron, and the Ashtoreth, probably of Ascalon, are\nknown figures. The Philistines, however, lost ultimately their\nseparate character, and ceased to exist as an independent people. It\nwill not be necessary for us to mention them again. The Phenicians,\nsettling on the northern sea-board of Syria, where great trade routes\nto East and West converged, and where good harbours could be made,\nbecame a nation of merchants, and kept up active communication with\nthe great kingdoms of the East, with Egypt, and with the islands and\nthe distant shores of Western Europe. The carriers of the ancient\nworld, they transmitted to Europe not only the spices and the fabrics\nbut also the ideas and the practices of Asia, and rendered to the\nworld the inestimable service of awaking the slumbering energies of\nthe Aryan peoples to new life.\n\nA short chapter may be devoted to the religion of the Canaanites and\nto that of the Phenicians, not because these were important in\nthemselves, for in neither was there anything original or anything\ndestined to survive, but because of the light they throw on other\nreligions which were to have a great career. It was in conflict with\nthe Canaanite religion that the faith of Israel first realised its\ntrue nature and was led to organise itself in a manner befitting its\ncharacter. And from Phenicia both Israel and Greece accepted many a\nsuggestion, both in external matters connected with worship and in\nmatters of a deeper nature.\n\nThe religion of the Canaanites is well known to us from the Old\nTestament. It is such a system as we found that of the Semites to be,\nwith certain peculiar developments, of which we have already seen\nsomething in our chapter on Babylonia. A local community recognises\nan invisible head, with whom it meets at the sacred spot, whom it\nregards as overlord or master, of whose favour it is in no doubt, and\nwhom it serves with sacrifices and with lively manifestations of joy\nat certain fixed periods. The god is called Baal. This, however, is\nnot a proper name but a title; it means lord, master, and the Baal\nmay have a name of his own in addition: we hear of Baal Peor, the\nlord of Peor, and of many another. Baals are spoken of in the plural;\nwe read in Judges ii. 11 and in other passages that the Israelites\nfollowed the Baals, that is the gods of the Canaanites. Each place\nhas its own Baal, who is worshipped at the local sanctuary. The\nsanctuary is at an elevated spot outside the town or village, either\non a natural eminence or on a mound artificially made for the\npurpose; these are the \"high places\" of the Old Testament; originally\nCanaanite places of worship, they drew to themselves also the worship\nof Israel. The apparatus of worship at these shrines is of a very\nsimple nature. An upright stone represents the god; it is not a\nstatue of him, being unhewn and having no resemblance to the human\nfigure. He was supposed to come to the stone when meeting with his\nworshippers; and in the earliest times of Semitic religion this stone\nserved the purpose of an altar: the gifts, which were not originally\nburned, were laid upon it, or the blood of the victim was applied to\nit. But besides the altar and the upright stone or _massebah_ the\nCanaanite shrine had another piece of furniture. A massive\ntree-trunk, fixed in the ground and with some of its branches perhaps\nstill remaining, represented the female deity who is the invariable\ncompanion of the Baal. This is the Ashera of Canaan, a word which in\nthe Authorised Version is translated \"grove,\" after an error of the\nVulgate, but which in the Revised Version is rightly left\nuntranslated. (Judges iii. 7, vi. 25; 2 Kings xxiii. 6, there is one\nin the Temple at Jerusalem; etc.) The word Ashera is in such passages\nthe designation of the tree which stood to represent the goddess;\nwhether it is ever the proper name of the goddess herself is\ndoubtful. At any rate Ashera, like Baal, is not the name of one\nhistoric deity, but a name applied to the goddess of each place all\nover the country.\n\nThe character of Canaanite religion is clearly revealed in its\napparatus of worship. We saw that the Babylonians added to many of\nthe gods of their country a female counterpart, turning the name of\nthe god into a feminine form (chapter vii., also chapter x.). In\nCanaan we find that Semitic worship is addressed to pairs of deities;\nthere is a god and a goddess at each shrine. While it would be wrong\nto regard this as the general type of Semitic religion,--our chapter\non that subject points to a different conclusion, and the great gods\nof Phenicia, of Moab, and of Israel are solitary beings,--we must\nrecognise that the worship of god and goddess was widespread in\nSemitic peoples. In Canaan it is not difficult to understand it. We\nhave here the worship of an agricultural community; and as the Baal\nis the lord of the soil and the author of its fertility, who is\nentitled to receive the first-fruits, so the Ashera is the fertile\nmatron who represents the principle of increase. The Old Testament\nleaves us in no doubt as to the kind of worship which was carried on\nat these shrines. The festivals were those of the farmer's calendar;\nthe Baal is presented with the first-fruits of corn and wine and oil,\nin the midst of general feasting and boisterous merry-making. His\nconsort, on the other hand, is served with rites applying in the most\ndirect manner the principle she represents. The shrine has a staff of\nfemale attendants for this part of the service of religion. The\nrustic worship of Palestine thus shows us a side of the religion of\nWestern Asia which we know from other sources to have been widely\ndiffused. A female deity like the Babylonian Ishtar (chapter vii.),\nis served with impure rites in great cities as well as in country\ndistricts, and her worship spread westwards with other Eastern\nproducts. She is found as Baalit, as Mylitta,[1] as Astarte; the\nGreeks call her Aphrodite, and her horrid worship found entrance in\nvarious Greek cities.\n\n[Footnote 1: Herod. i. 199.]\n\nTo the Israelites the worship of Canaan proved a great temptation\n(Numbers xxv.), but they gradually rose above it. The Phenicians also\ncame to have gods of a much higher character, and of these also we\nmust speak. The Phenicians were not original in their religion any\nmore than in their art; their religion began with the ordinary\nSemitic notions as these had been applied by the older population in\nSyria, and they improved it by borrowing from various parts of the\nworld with which they trafficked. So various were their borrowings\nthat it is impossible to draw up a consistent system of their gods.\nOne town has one set of gods, another town another, and the same\ndeity wears different and even opposite characters in different\nplaces. All that can be done is to single out a few features which we\ncan see to have been on the whole characteristic of Phenician\nreligion, and to have enabled it to influence the worship of other\npeoples.\n\nThe Phenicians were very much in earnest about the maintenance of\nstate and of religion. In their successive city-states of Sidon,\nTyre, and Carthage, we see them exhibiting an intense devotion to the\ncommonwealth, and very much under the influence of their priesthood.\nSemitic religion tends to grow more sombre and intense as it\ndevelops; and the Phenicians, while still holding the principle of a\ngod and goddess, concentrate their worship more and more on a single\ndivine figure, and come to regard that figure from a greater distance\nand with greater awe. The liberal and easy-going Baals and Asheras of\nagricultural life are not suited to the temple of a great commercial\ncity; a figure of more dignity is wanted. And thus above the crowd of\nBaals there appears the Moloch or king, a much greater being and\nrequiring a much statelier service. Moloch also is not originally a\nproper name; there are various Molochs or king-gods who rise above\nthe Baals, and the individuals have special designations, as\nMelcarth, \"king of the city.\" This type of deity occurs not with the\nPhenicians only, but with several other Syrian peoples about the same\ntime. The Moloch of Sidon and Tyre is a being of the same character\nas the chief gods of Moab, Ammon, and Israel. He has to do not only\nwith the blessings of agricultural life, but with state and\ngovernment. He is the founder of a state; he is the inventor of\nnavigation and of purple; he is the first king; when a colony is sent\nout, it goes with his approval, and he himself leads the expedition;\nhe is the dread ruler whom none must disobey; the majesty, the power,\nand the enterprise of the state are all embodied in him. And as the\nking-god is far above the landlord-god in power, he is infinitely\nremoved from him in character also. The chief gods of Sidon and Tyre\nhave nothing luxurious or effeminate about them. They are strict and\nawful beings, and must not be incautiously approached. They retain\ntheir primitive character as sources of life, but they are destroyers\nof life as well. Pure and holy themselves, they require purity and\nholiness in all who draw near to them. Their priests are celibates,\ntheir priestesses virgins. They require sacrifices of a very\ndifferent nature from those of the Baals, more costly and more\ndreadful. Human sacrifices appear to have been a regular feature of\ntheir worship: when the Israelites turn to the worship of Phenician\ngods, or when they copy Phenician practices, we hear of their \"making\ntheir children pass through the fire\"--that is, offering them up as\nburnt-sacrifices. The Moloch requires what is most costly as a\nsacrifice, or what will cause the strongest thrill of terror in his\nworship. Even the first-born child is not to be kept back from him (2\nKings xxiii. 10, Jerem. vii. 31, cf. Micah vi. 7).\n\nSo far the origin of the Phenician gods is simple. They are purely\nSemitic deities, formed on the pattern of human rulers and deriving\ntheir attributes from that character. When a state becomes highly\norganised before it is quite civilised in other respects, its\nreligion is apt to be stern and cruel; of this various instances may\nbe found in the history of religion, and the present is one of them.\nThe Phenician gods were of such a character as to favour the survival\nof savage practices; the Semite, as we saw, is extremely\nmatter-of-fact and practical in his religion, and a god who was a\nking would receive the same kind of offerings as the king of Sidon or\nof Tyre was accustomed to. A strict and dreadful religion thus\nsurvives beyond the savage state; pleasure is taken in trampling on\nnatural feelings and in setting forth shocking spectacles at the\nbidding of the deity.\n\nAstral Deities of Phenicia.--It is not possible to arrange in a\nsystem the remaining phenomena of Phenician religion. In the\nhistorical period the gods have another character besides that of\nbeing heads and rulers of communities. They are connected with the\nheavenly bodies. The chief god, whatever name he bears, El, Baal,\nMoloch, Rimmon, or Adonis, is always the sun. A sun-god may have come\nfrom Egypt or Babylon, but there is no reason why the Phenicians may\nnot have had a sun-god from the first, whose character spread to\ntheir other deities. And in accordance with the tendency above spoken\nof, the sun-god has a consort. Sometimes his consort is the earth;\nand then we have a sensuous and immoral worship such as that of the\nCanaanites. Sometimes it is the moon; her name is Astarte or\nAshtoreth, and she is a very different being from the Ashera of\nCanaan; the names are not the same, and the characters are opposite.\nAshtoreth, like the primitive Semitic goddess (chapter x.), is a\nchaste matron; she is represented robed and in stately attitude, and\nis a fit companion for the strict Moloch of the cities. Her worship\nis described to us by Jeremiah, in whose time the matrons of\nJerusalem made cakes for her and poured out drink-offerings and\nburned incense to her as the \"queen of heaven\"; all this was done\nwith the knowledge and co-operation of their husbands, so that the\nworship had nothing immoral about it. This strict goddess is not to\nbe identified with Istar of Babylonia, although the names are alike.\nIstar is not a moon-goddess like Ashtoreth; in Babylonia, in fact,\nthe moon is masculine, and the characters of the two goddesses are\nopposite. The Sidonian Astarte and the Canaanite Ashera represent two\nopposing types of female deity, both of which may possibly have their\nreflections in Greece--the latter in the lower forms of the worship\nof Aphrodite, and the former in the figures of such strict maiden\ngoddesses as Artemis and Athene.\n\nAnother worship which prevailed in Phenicia should not be left\nunnoticed--that of the Cabiri. There were temples of the Cabiri in\nseveral of the towns; their worship, however, was secret, and little\nwas known of it even in antiquity. We know at all events that the\nCabiri were seven in number, and the number is thought to be\nconnected, not with the seven planets, but with the seven heavenly\nspheres of early astronomy. They have a head called Eshmun, who is\nthe god of the eighth or highest sphere. The Cabiri are beings of a\nmoral character; they are not only mighty ones and creators, but they\nare the children of Sydyk--that is, of Righteousness; and they give\ncounsel. It is here that the tendency to speculative exaltation of\nthe deity appears in Phenicia; but there is little of it, and neither\nin this direction nor in that of morals was the religion destined to\nhave any remarkable growth. The service of the gods was so closely\nidentified with the service of the state,--for either the priest and\nthe king were one, as in Israel after the exile, or nothing could be\ndone without the priesthood,--that no independent religious\ndevelopment was possible. In a theocracy religion cannot grow, at\nleast it cannot be openly acknowledged to do so; and the prophet and\nreformer finds every influence arrayed against him.\n\nHow greatly Israel was indebted to Phenician art is known to all. It\nwas by artificers from Tyre that Solomon's royal buildings were\nplanned and executed, when he had married a daughter of Egypt and was\ncompelled to aim at some magnificence. A royal temple formed part of\nthese buildings, and was necessarily erected according to the ideas\nwhich prevailed in the more advanced neighbouring kingdoms. It was\nfrom the same source that the Greeks a century or two later drew\nsuggestions for their sacred architecture; and thus we find that the\nground-plan of Solomon's temple and that of the Greek temple are\nclosely similar. Both are to be traced ultimately to the model\nderived by the Phenicians from Egypt. And those who borrowed from\nPhenicia the form of their temple, borrowed many other things too. In\nthe porch of Solomon's temple stood two great pillars of bronze,\nwhich were called Jachin and Boaz; they were simply the symbols which\nstood at the entrance to every Phenician temple of the sun-god\nworshipped there. The priests of Israel were dressed like those of\nTyre and Sidon; they offered the same animals as sacrifices, they\nreceived the same dues for their maintenance. When so much apparatus\nwas borrowed, it is no wonder that the gods of Phenicia were at times\nworshipped at Jerusalem. We see from this whole chapter that the\nreligion of Israel was not so much apart from that of the other\nSyrian peoples as we have been wont to imagine. Even in his religion\nIsrael owed something to his neighbours; his religion came to be\nbetter than theirs, but it was the result of a movement in which they\nalso had taken part.\n\n\nBOOKS RECOMMENDED\n\nThe Histories of Antiquity. E. Meyer, Duncker (see p. 101).\n\nTiele's _Egyptische en Mesopotamische Godsdiensten_. Book II.:\nPhenicia and Israel.\n\nThe Histories of Israel, especially Kuenen, _The Religion of Israel_.\n\nF. Jeremias, in De la Saussaye, vol. i. pp. 348-383.\n\nE. Meyer, \"Phenicia,\" in _Encyclopaedia Biblica_.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XII\nISRAEL\n\n\nIt is a circumstance of the greatest value for the science of\nreligion that the Old Testament is so well known. That book is the\nmost valuable literary storehouse we possess of the facts and ideas\nconnected with the early religion of mankind; it is the best\ntext-book of the earlier portion of our subject. In our chapters on\nprimitive worship, as well as in that on the Semites, we have drawn\nlargely from this source, and for the earlier stages of the religion\nof Israel we may refer to these chapters. We have now, however, to\ndeal specially with the religion of the Old Testament, and to\nendeavour to show, as has been done in other cases, what was its\nspecific character, and how its character determined its history. The\nstory to be told in this chapter is, even apart from our special\ninterest in it, as fascinating as any in this volume; it was through\na mental movement of unparalleled grandeur, as well as through an\noutward history of tragic and entrancing interest, that the Jews came\nto possess the religion which was the desire of all nations, and the\nchief preparation for Christianity.\n\nWe have to begin, however, with repeating in this case what has been\nand will be the burden of our opening paragraphs in many chapters of\nthis book, namely that the traditional ideas about the nature of this\nreligion require to be corrected, and that its sacred books as they\nnow stand do not accurately represent its history. The Old Testament\nliterature has suffered in a high degree what seems to be the\npredestined fate of every set of sacred books. Old materials and new\nare mixed up together in it; many works have been revised by later\neditors, and so much changed, that laborious critical processes are\nnecessary before they can be used by the historian. In forming his\nfirst impressions as to the relations the books bear to each other,\nand as to the purport of the whole, the reader is naturally guided by\nthe order in which he finds them; but the order in which the sacred\nbooks of the Jews stand in the Old Testament was fixed from a\npeculiar point of view at a late age in Jewish history, and is in\nmany respects quite unnatural and misleading. To come to particulars;\nthe Old Testament as it stands suggests that the Law was the earliest\nproduct of Jewish literature, and that all the details of ritual, as\nwell as of moral and social duty, were fixed for the Jews at the very\noutset of their history; and it suggests that the books of the\nprophets were written last. This, till quite recently, was generally\nbelieved to be the case, but by the labours of a series of\nillustrious scholars of the Old Testament the conclusion has been\nreached, which is now less and less disputed, that the earlier\nprophetic books come first in chronological order, and that the law,\nwhich is not all of one piece, but contains a number of codes of\ndifferent periods, together with a collection of legends and\ntraditions drawn from various quarters and subjected to editorial\ntreatment, did not assume the form in which we have it till after the\nexile. The historical books, in which no doubt various ancient pieces\nare embodied, were written under the inspiration of prophetic ideas;\nand the latest books of all are those which stand in the centre of\nthe Old Testament in the English Bible; the Psalter, which had been\ngrowing during a long period before it came to contain its present\nnumber of pieces, the books of morals and philosophy, and the book of\nJob. Daniel belongs to the period of the Maccabees. The historian,\ntherefore, starts from the age of the prophets of the eighth century\nB.C. The writings of these great men afford a graphic picture of\ntheir time, and an entirely trustworthy account of the mental\nfurniture Israel then possessed. From this fixed point the student is\nable to infer what happened to Israel in earlier times, and to judge\nof the spirit in which the early history of the people was afterwards\nwritten and edited. The history of Israel which the student arrives\nat after these critical processes differs, it is true, in very\nimportant respects from that which appears at first sight on the face\nof the Bible. But the same thing has occurred in the case of other\nnations. The sacred books of Persia also have to be turned outside in\nbefore they furnish the historian with an account he can accept. Even\nof the speeches of Mohammed the same is true. Those who undertake the\ntask of codifying sacred literatures have to consider the purpose to\nwhich the books are to be put in the community, and to arrange them\nso as best to serve that purpose; they do not ask, How must they be\narranged so as to exhibit the true sequence of the history?--that\ninterest only arises much later--but, How will they best serve the\nneeds of the community? The order of books in sacred collections is,\ntherefore, fixed by practical considerations, now of one kind and now\nof another, and not according to the requirements of the student of\nhistory. We now proceed to give the outline of the history of the\nreligion of Israel as it appears in the light of recent critical\ninvestigation.\n\nIsrael consisted originally of a group of tribes, bound together by\nthe memory of a great deliverance they had experienced in common, and\nof battles in which they had fought side by side. Accustomed to the\nfree life of shepherds, they had been enslaved in Egypt and held to\nintolerable tasks; but they had made their escape in a wonderful\nmanner under a leader who had known how to kindle them to heroic\nefforts by reminding them of their religious traditions. Under his\nleadership they had visited the Sinaitic peninsula after leaving\nEgypt, and had wandered in the regions to the north of Sinai, till at\nlast they conquered territory to the east of Jordan, on which some of\nthem settled, while others crossed the Jordan, and took up their\nabodes among the Canaanite tribes whom they found there.\n\nThe nation and the religion came into the world at the same time.\nAlthough the tribes retained their separate gods and religious\nobservances, and families among them also had their own family cults,\nthe bond by which they had been formed into a people and made capable\nof common action was stronger than these earlier ties; the God whom\nMoses proclaimed as their head inspired in them an enthusiasm and\nvigour unknown before. His name was Yahweh, and is said to have a\nmetaphysical meaning, and to designate the god as more really\nexisting than any other. This is doubted; what is certain is that\nMoses declared that Yahweh promised to be with the tribes, and that\nthey took him for their God. Jehovah, to use the more familiar form\nof the name, was perhaps the God of the most powerful of the tribes;\nhe was probably a nature-god, and connected with storms and thunder,\nand he had his seat at Mount Sinai. Thither the tribes repaired to\nhold a solemn meeting with him; from there he was afterwards\nrepresented as coming forth when about to do any mighty act for his\npeople. He is thought of as a being who cannot be seen, since he\ndwells in clouds and darkness. He utters his voice in thunder and\nstorm; he is possessed of irresistible energy which he unfolds in\nbattle, and in which he causes his people to share when he goes\nbefore them to war. But he is also a god of counsel, and takes the\ngreatest interest in the moral and social life of his people. His\nhuman representatives, aided by his spirit, settle disputes which are\nlaid before them, and pronounce authoritative counsels on difficult\nmatters. This kind of guidance is constantly going on, so that\nJehovah is felt to be watching over the conduct of his people, and to\nbe an effective helper and guide in their domestic concerns, which\nnot every god attends to, as well as in their meetings with their\nenemies.\n\nThe Early Ritual was Simple.--In all this we have a very apt example\nof the advance which, as we saw in a former chapter, religion makes\nwhen it becomes national instead of merely tribal; when the great god\nof the nation takes his place above the gods of the tribes. In\nIsrael, however, it is not the case that the national religion, when\nit appears, at once develops a higher style of worship, and draws\nattention to itself by greater pomp and deeper solemnity of form. The\npriestly legislation of Exodus and Leviticus, indeed, represents this\nas having been the case. Here the tribes have scarcely adopted the\nservice of Jehovah, when an army of thousands of priests is called\ninto being, for whose maintenance elaborate provision is made, and a\nsplendid and highly-organised worship is arranged. This directory of\nworship, however, most scholars are agreed, never was in operation\ntill after the exile: we see in it the worship which Ezra and his\nfellow-scribes aimed at introducing in the second temple at\nJerusalem. The worship of the wilderness and of the early period of\nIsrael in Canaan was of a very different nature. The leading features\nand principles of it differed little from what we have described in\nformer parts of this book (chapter v., chapter x.). It was conducted\naccording to custom rather than statute, and its leading\ncharacteristic was that it was a common meal at which the god was\npresent along with his worshippers, and assurances were given that\nthe good understanding still continued which bound the tribesmen to\ntheir god and each other. It was by the person of his god rather than\nby a more elaborate worship, or a more numerous priesthood, that\nIsrael was distinguished from Moab and Ammon.\n\nContact with Canaanite Religion.--After being delivered out of Egypt\nby the power of Jehovah, and entering Canaan, Israel was placed in a\nposition in which it is wonderful, indeed, that the national\ncharacter and the national religion were not merged in those of the\nsurrounding population. Bringing with them the few ideas and the\nscanty appliances of the wilderness, they found themselves dwelling\namid a people whose civilisation was fully formed, and who possessed\na comparatively elaborate worship. The tribes of Canaan spoke the\nsame language, and were of the same race with themselves, but had\nadvanced to the higher life of agriculture and of cities. Their\nworship was the same in principle as that of Israel, but it had a\nhigher organisation. The land was studded with sacred places, the\nsanctity of which Israel could not deny, and which formed centres of\npilgrimage and worship. The worship of the Canaanites was described\nin last chapter (chapter xi.); the reader will remember the upright\nstone (masseba) representing the Baal, and the tree-trunk (ashera),\nif there was no living tree, representing the goddess. If all this or\nmost of it was new to the Israelites, so was the sacred year which\nfixed the seasons of worship in Canaan. Minor festivals were fixed by\nthe appearance of the new moon, or by the regular return of the\nseventh day (it is doubtful if the Sabbath was observed in the\nwilderness, it is connected with agriculture, and is scarcely\ncompatible with pastoral life); greater ones by the epochs of the\nyear, such as harvest and vintage. The worship connected with\nagriculture in the early world is of a noisy and frantic order; and\nwhere gods are worshipped who are connected with fertility, it is\napt, as we saw, to be marked by sexual features.\n\nDanger of Fusion.--The Israelites were naturally prompted to adopt\nwhat they could of the religion of the Canaanites. The old sacred\nplaces of the land, whether connected with their own ancestral\ntraditions or not, they could not help adopting; it would have been\nstrange, indeed, if, when they became agriculturists, they had not\nadopted the agricultural festivals; and if, as was natural, they\nregarded the Baal of the Canaanite as the lord of the land and the\ngiver of its fertility, their thanks for the harvest would be\naddressed to him (Hosea ii. 8). Their worship of Jehovah could not be\nleft poorer than that which their neighbours addressed to Baal; for\nit also they erected asheras and made use of standing stones, and of\nJehovah also they had images. One of these, which was destroyed by\nHezekiah, was in the form of a serpent: in other places Jehovah was\nworshipped under the form of a bull. Where an image of him was kept,\nhe could be consulted by means of lots or in other ways. The ark or\nchest which was kept at one of the more important shrines,\nrepresented him most fully; it was carried into battle, and he was\nthought to go with it.\n\nReligious Conflict.--But the more developed worship thus paid to\nJehovah after the settlement in Canaan, as it had not grown out of\nthe religion of Jehovah, did not truly express its spirit, and was\nfelt by those who believed most thoroughly in the national god, to be\na wrong way of serving him. If, moreover, the Israelites, who lived\nscattered and far apart from each other among the older inhabitants,\nwent so far in adopting Canaanite practices, there was a danger that\nIsrael would forget the faith which had made him a nation, and thus\npart entirely with his character and nationality. A contest thus\narose, which continued during the whole of Israelite history down to\nthe exile, between the few who cared for Jehovah only, and desired to\nsee the principles of his religion carried out purely and without\nreserve, and the many who, while also professing to follow Jehovah,\nsaw no harm in worshipping him as other gods were worshipped, or even\nin addressing other gods as well as him. This struggle is represented\nin the histories as if Israel had from time to time become entirely\napostate from its own faith. But it is clear that Israel never forgot\nJehovah so far as to be incapable of being called back to him. The\ncall was generally a call to war. The people, having forgotten the\ntrue source of their strength, and so lost spirit and became a prey\nto their enemies, were summoned by one in whom the spirit of Jehovah\nwas burning freshly, to follow him to battle against their enemies.\nThe spirit of Jehovah, thus applied anew to the hearts of his people,\ndid not fail of its effect. The wave of courage and of martial ardour\nspread from place to place, from tribe to tribe, and soon an army\nstood in the field which struck with the old vigour, and soon shook\noff the yoke of the oppressor. Jehovah thus proved himself to be\nJehovah Sebaoth, _i.e._, in the most probable rendering of the\nphrase, the God of the armies of his people. A religion which proved\nitself in this way could never cease to be a power in the heart of\nthe nation; even if the tribes, dispersing again after a victory,\nsoon seemed to lose touch of each other, and to be sinking deeper\nthan ever in the surrounding tide of Canaanite life, yet the faith,\nwhich was associated with all the highest moments of their past\nhistory, and was the secret of all their victories, could not die.\n\nThe Monarchy.--It was a great advance, however, in the history of the\nreligion of Israel, when the judges or heroes who appeared, at\ndistant intervals of time and in different parts of the country, to\nsummon Israel to fight for freedom in the name of Jehovah, were\nsucceeded by the monarchy. This was a step which those most zealous\nfor the national faith warmly approved, and, indeed, themselves\nbrought about; the monarchy was founded, in the case of the first two\nkings, on religious enthusiasm. The religion of Jehovah at once\nbecame the state religion, and a more satisfactory worship was formed\nat the court. The permanent union of the tribes under the monarchy\nsoon showed Israel to be possessed of much greater force than could\nhave been imagined, and within a century the people of Jehovah formed\na considerable power, which was heard of in all ends of the earth.\nInstead of a set of scattered tribes they were now a homogeneous\npeople, conscious of a great past and looking forward to a still\ngreater future. As they passed rapidly from barbarism to\ncivilisation, Jehovah shared their rise. His energy had always been\nundoubted, but he now put on in addition all the settled attributes\nof kingly power--he was a great god, and a great king, a just judge,\na liberal friend--all his doings were wonderful. He had chosen Israel\nfor his people, and by a series of mighty acts had guided and\npreserved them, and made them great. His people stood in a peculiar\nposition in the world; with such a god they must rise higher still,\nthere could be no limit to what he could do for them.\n\nReligion not Centralised.--We must not, however, suppose that the\nrise of Jehovah to a great position, and the institution of his\nworship at the court, made any great or sudden change in the\nreligious arrangements of the people at large. While the worship of\nthe monarch went on at Gibeon or at Jerusalem, the great shrines at\nBethel, at Dan, and at Beersheba were still frequented, and the\nsacred places throughout the land remained in honour. Stories indeed\nwere told to show that they had been founded by the patriarchs for\nthe worship of their god, so that there need be no scruple in\nfrequenting them. The worship of Baal and that of Jehovah went on at\nthese places side by side, and neither could fail to be influenced by\nthe other. Sacrifice was guided by more than one principle: on the\none hand it was a common meal with the deity; and as Jehovah was\nthought to have his dwelling in Heaven, his part of the banquet was\nburned, so that it might ascend to him in the column of smoke. The\nsacrifice of agriculturists, however, naturally turns to the idea of\npresenting to the god, with joy and thankfulness, a part of the\ngifts, or the first or best part of the gifts, which, as lord of the\nsoil, he has bestowed. The idea of propitiation or atonement does not\nenter into the ordinary sacrifices at this time. Jehovah in his\nsterner moods may demand more awful offerings. As we see from the\nstory of Abraham offering up Isaac, it was thought that Jehovah might\ndemand human sacrifice, and instances of such sacrifice actually\noccur in the records. Jephthah dedicates his daughter; after a war\nthe best of the booty is offered to Jehovah, and Samuel hews Agag in\npieces before him. But such occurrences lie quite apart from ordinary\nworship, which is of a joyful character and is accompanied by\nmerry-making of various kinds. No fixed ritual prevailed throughout\nthe country; the attempt to introduce uniformity came much later.\nEvery one knew how to sacrifice, as the stories of Manoah and of\nGideon show; it was by no means necessary that a priest should be\npresent. The functions of the priest indeed were often connected with\nother matters than sacrifice, and might be of a humble description.\nEli with a few attendants was the guardian of the ark which was the\nsymbol of the presence of Jehovah. A young priest was engaged by\nMicah for ten pieces of silver yearly to take charge of his\ncollection of idols. But the most important duty of the priesthood,\nand that on which their influence mainly depended, was that of\nconsulting Jehovah and ascertaining his will. This was done by some\nsacred object in the charge of the priest, and various objects are\nnamed (Ephod and Teraphim are images of deities; Urim and Thummim are\nthe lots used on such occasions) which possessed this virtue. The\npriest also acted as a judge in matters brought to him for decision,\nand thus was in a position to form the unwritten law of the people,\nand to set up principles of conduct which came in course of time to\nbe regarded as sacred. The priests' \"torah\" or law is the beginning\nof the Jewish legislation, and we see from the humane and kindly\nprovisions of the earliest codes that this important function was\ndischarged in no unworthy way. It was thus that Jehovah acted as the\nliving lawgiver of his people, long before any written law existed.\nWith his character as a warrior, a mighty lord, and a giver of rich\ngifts, he combines from the first that of one who watches over the\nconduct of his people, checks their excesses, and is willing and able\nto lead them on to better living. This fact will be of much\nimportance when the mind of the people expands and seeks to\nunderstand more clearly his being and character.\n\nThe Prophets.--Israel, like other nations of antiquity, had, in\naddition to the priests who were professionally connected with\nreligion, a class of men who were organs of the deity not on account\nof their position but by a special personal gift. The inspiration of\nJehovah appeared in early times in somewhat crude forms. Bands of\nfervid devotees were seen, who produced in themselves by dance and\nsong an ecstatic enthusiasm, in which they were thought to become the\norgans of the deity. These men lived in societies or guilds, which\nwere found in Israel for several centuries. There were such prophets\nof Baal as well as of Jehovah, so that the phenomenon is not\nspecifically Israelite. What we hear of them does not always give us\na lofty idea of their character. They are found practising magical\ntricks, and when they prophesy they all say the same thing; sometimes\nthey are willing to prophesy what a king wishes to hear.\n\nThe greater prophecy of Israel arose out of such beginnings as these.\nIsrael was accustomed to expect to hear the will of Jehovah declared\nby a speaker of whom the spirit had laid hold, and among those who\ncame forward to meet this expectation there appeared from time to\ntime men of commanding insight and of great intensity of character.\nThe name \"seer\" indicates the nature of this kind of prophecy. The\nseer is one to whom Jehovah communicates his intentions personally,\nperhaps without any steps having been taken on his part to place\nhimself in the way of the god. He sees visions while awake and in his\nordinary frame of mind, he also hears what others do not hear; and\nthe vision and the message have reference to the future. Things are\nintimated which are shortly to come to pass, and they are things\nconcerning the state or the monarchy: the fate of Israel is the\nburden of the prophet's intimation. Samuel's seeing led him to\ninstitute the monarchy under Saul. The prophet Abijah declared for\nthe division of the kingdom into two; and his prophecy was not vain.\nElijah foretold the downfall of the house of Omri, and Elisha saw to\nthe accomplishment of that prediction. The prophets we see were a\ngreat power in public affairs, and were able in important crises to\ndetermine the course of the nation's history. Often the prophet\nstands quite alone, and in opposition to the court and apparently to\nthe nation, and yet his words have a tendency to get themselves\nfulfilled; Jehovah's word does not return to him void. At other times\nthe prophet seems to have many sympathisers among the nation, and to\nspeak as the mouthpiece of the most earnest section of the community,\nthe section most devoted to Jehovah; and in these cases it is less\nwonderful that his words come true. When, however, we speak of the\nprophets as a whole, the expression is a loose one; the prophets are\nnot a party that always acts together, nor a school in which the\nleader is always sure of a following. A great voice sounds, perhaps\nonce in a century or a half-century; and these voices represent the\ntrue tradition of Israelite religion, and develop it further. In the\ntime of Elijah we notice that there is a puritan movement in Israel;\na number of men are agreed together in detestation of the foreign\nworships which are practised at court, and are heartily agreed in\nwishing to bring back the good old ways and the pure worship of\nJehovah only. And when Elijah speaks, he gives voice to this\ntendency; he claims that everything should be determined by religion;\nno considerations of state should for a moment stand in the way of\nthe pure faith of Jehovah, by which everything should be decided; and\nwhatever stands in the way of this policy is dedicated to\ndestruction. This, broadly speaking, is the keynote of Hebrew\nprophecy.\n\nWhen we come to the canonical prophets, however, we feel that there\nis a great deal more in their teaching than the bare demand that\neverything must give way to the requirements of religion. A great\nchange has taken place in their world of thought. It is no less than\nthat a new god and a new religion have announced themselves in the\nthinking of these men. They do not say so; they are not aware of it,\nand yet it is so.\n\nThe Old Religion National.--The religion of Israel during the\nmonarchy is, in the full sense of the term, a national one. From a\ncluster of tribes Israel has become a nation, and has begun to think\nof itself as a unity. It has its national history, its national\nrulers, as other nations have. In their nationality it cannot be\ndenied that the Israelites had much to be proud of; nor did their\nrapid growth in wealth and power, which gave them several centuries\nof prosperity, tend to lesson that pride. Now as they have their own\nking, they have also their own god. Jehovah is the god of Israel;\nIsrael is the people of Jehovah, on this they were all agreed. That\nJehovah was their god did not prevent them from believing in the\nexistence of other gods: Chemosh was the god of Moab, a being not\nvery unlike Jehovah, the Baals were the old gods of Canaan. Jehovah,\nof course, was the greatest and strongest, and an Israelite should\nworship him, in Canaan at least; but there was no great harm if he\nworshipped other gods too, when it came in his way to do so. He might\njoin in the worship of Baal in country places; and the king might,\nwithout doing any harm, set up the images of the gods of his wives\nbeside the images of Jehovah in the capital, and if many of his\nsubjects joined in these other worships, it was but natural. In this\nway a great variety of gods was in some reigns brought together from\ndifferent countries.\n\nJehovah, however, was the special god of Israel, there could be no\ndoubt of that; Israel was specially pledged to him; and he on his\nside was pledged to Israel, who was entitled to look to him for help\nin every emergency. Jehovah had no other people; he was entirely\nbound up with Israel, he must, if only for his own honour, come to\nthe aid of his own people when they needed him. He never could permit\nIsrael to suffer any fatal injury, such as deportation to a foreign\ncountry. Religious faith forbade the thought that such a thing was\npossible; if Israel was destroyed, where would Israel's religion be?\nIt was utter impiety, therefore, to doubt that Israel was safe, that\nJehovah watched over his own land and his own people, or that he\nwould guard them from any fatal harm. If, on the other hand, as was\ntoo often the case, Israel had to submit to injury and insult from\nother peoples, there could be no doubt that Jehovah took notice of\nthe fact, and that in due time he would set things right. It might be\nsome time before his attention was sufficiently directed to the case;\nhe might be waiting till more of the same kind of occurrences took\nplace before he finally interposed; but the time would come, the \"Day\nof the Lord\" would arrive in due season, when the spoilers and\ninsulters of Israel would be dealt with according to their deserts,\nand Israel set on high in full deliverance and peace.\n\nCriticism of the Old Religion by the Prophets.--The prophets,\nimpressed more deeply than the people by the moral character of\nJehovah, and under the pressure of great national dangers and\ncalamities, attained to views of God and of his ways so different\nfrom those current at the time as to appear, when first produced,\nmost unpatriotic and even impious. In their character of seers they\nforesaw with clearness the terrible catastrophes which were about to\nburst upon their people. Amos prophesies that Israel will be carried\naway captive out of his land; Isaiah announces the same thing in the\nsouthern kingdom, and declares that only a remnant shall return.\nThese men are in no doubt as to the impending political annihilation\nof Israel, and they set themselves to find some reason for an\noccurrence so portentous, so impossible to harmonise with ordinary\nreligious faith. They account for it by a view of the nature of\nJehovah far exalted above that of their people. He is punishing them\nfor their iniquities, they say, he is so righteous that he must\npunish sin, and he must punish the sin of Israel his beloved people\nnot less strictly, but more strictly than that of other peoples. As a\nhusband whose wife has gone astray must subject her to discipline\nbefore he can receive her again to his favour, so Hosea, made a\nprophet by such a domestic affliction, contends that Jehovah cannot\nbut deal strictly with Israel. This theory of the meaning of the\nimpending calamities is supported by the prophets by those\ndenunciations of the national sins which give so gloomy a complexion\nto their works. Among the national delinquencies the disorganisation\nand apparent wilfulness shown in worship have a prominent place.\nWorship is not what the service of Jehovah ought to be. Other beings\nthan he are sought after; heathenish festivals are kept, the indecent\npractices of heathen worship are introduced into that of Jehovah:\nthere is no seriousness, no dignity, no worthy order, in the acts of\nworship that are done. Any place does for them, and many of the\nplaces used are quite unfit, from their associations, for the service\nof Jehovah. They are celebrated more as wild orgies than as solemn\napproaches to the deity.\n\nThe interests of the prophets, however, do not centre in ritual. The\nworship of other gods than Jehovah, or the service of Jehovah in\nunfitting ways, they could not but denounce, but they have no\npositive instructions to give about worship. When the people have\napparently given up the wrong worships, and are applying themselves\nwith zeal to that of Jehovah, seeking his favour by austerities, or\nby costly offerings, the prophets are no less severe on this line of\nconduct. Every one is familiar with the passages in which they\napparently denounce sacrifice altogether as a thing God has never\nasked, and by which Israel cannot hope to win his favour. These\npassages do not prove that the prophets desired the entire\ndiscontinuance of sacrifice; they merely compare sacrifice with\nanother line of duty which is said to be vastly more important. Not\nsacrifice but mercy, not sacrifice but to do justly, and love mercy,\nand walk humbly with God,--is the burden of these utterances. Even\nmore than by the irregularities of worship, the prophets are shocked\nby the more directly moral shortcomings of their people. The people\nare accused of all the acts that are forbidden in the decalogue of\nExodus xx., and of many offences not there named. Especially are the\nprophets indignant at the hardheartedness of the rich towards the\npoor, and at the frequent disregard of faith and truth; oppression\nand bribery, gluttony and other luxurious excesses, are frequently\ntheir mark. These most of all are the sins which have called down the\ndivine judgments; these are the transgressions which make it\nimpossible for Jehovah to turn away the punishment of Israel and of\nJudah. He is, above all things, a righteous god, who loves judgment\nand mercy, and a people which so manifestly fails to practice justice\nand mercy cannot continue to be his people; he must destroy them.\n\nThe prophets therefore declare that Jehovah has decided on the\nrejection of his people. This shows that they have advanced to a new\nconception of what Jehovah is. To them he is something more than the\nmere national deity indissolubly linked to the fortunes of his\npeople, pledged to advance them in the world, and doomed when they\nfall to fall himself along with them. He is first of all a moral\nruler; the maintenance and promotion of righteousness is far more to\nhim than the prosperity of any single people, even of Israel. He\nloves Israel it is true; Israel is his son, whom he loves, the wife\nof his youth, the people of his covenant. But that makes it the more\nand not the less necessary that Israel should not be allowed to go on\nin iniquity. Jehovah can be no partisan of a people that does not\nwalk according to his laws. Thus the prophets have arrived at a new\nconception of Jehovah's character, which necessarily unfits him,\nthough they do not yet see this, for the _role_ of a national god.\nThey have identified him with the ideal of righteousness and mercy,\nand in so doing they have made the great step, at least in principle,\nfrom national to universal religion, from the religion that is bound\nup with the history of one particular people, and cannot pass beyond\nthem, to the religion which is capable of being understood by all\nmen, and fit to be preached to all men of whatever race.\n\nAppearance of Universalism.--To the deeper view which they have\ngained of the character of Jehovah the prophets add a wider and\nhigher view of his relation to the world, and to the various nations\nin it. They frankly state that Jehovah has relations to other nations\nthan Israel. He might if he had chosen have taken some other race to\nbe his people; they were all at his disposal and he regarded none of\nthem as hostile. He is not dependent on Israel, and the inference is\nclear, that if he could have done without Israel at first, he could\ndo without Israel still, were he driven to that. Israel is not\nindispensable to the continuance of the true religion. Jehovah indeed\nhas a position far above that which Israelite national thought\nascribed to him. He is lord not of one nation only, but of all the\nnations. He can use any of them as his instrument when and as he\nchooses. It is he who has brought each of them to its present seat,\nit is he who is directing their movements now. And for what end does\nhe wield this mighty rule? He is governing the world not in the\ninterests of one nation only, but in the interests of righteousness.\nHe is guiding the destinies of nations so as to bring about an end\nwhich he has fixed, namely the establishment of a world-wide kingdom\nof truth. The day is indeed coming as the Israelites believed when he\nwould hold a judgment over the world, only let Israel beware lest\nthat day should be darkness and not light to them; it will bring\nabout the punishment of sinners of whatever race. An end is to be\nmade of sin both in Israel and in other nations, that a new world may\nbegin. The position thus given to Jehovah is clearly one which lifts\nhim high above the rank of a national deity. The prophets understand\nwith growing clearness that Jehovah is the creator of the world, and\nthe author of all the glories, both of the celestial and of the\nterrestrial frame. The Maker of the ends of the earth, and the\nGovernor of all the nations, though he has chosen to reveal himself\nto one particular race, cannot be limited to them. The position of\nMonotheism has been attained. The earlier prophets speak of the gods\nof other nations as if they really existed, though for Israel Jehovah\nis the only god, but by degrees the advance is made to the position\nthat these beings do not exist at all, and are simply \"vanities\" or\n\"nothings.\" Instead of saying that Jehovah is the greatest among the\ngods, and that there is none like him, these preachers say that\nJehovah alone is god, and that he is the author of all that exists\nand of all that takes place in the universe. A god has been unveiled\nwhom all beings exist to glorify, and whom all the nations of the\nearth can confidently be summoned to praise.\n\nEthical Monotheism.--These results were reached gradually: there is a\ngreat difference between the teaching of Amos and that of Jeremiah.\nAnd it must be remembered that they were attained not as other\nmonotheisms have been, by philosophical speculation, but by purely\nmoral ways. It is because Jehovah is supremely just and holy, that he\ngrows so great. The justice and holiness which are seen in him are\nthe strongest of all; the world exists for nothing else but to\nrealise them, and everything that stands opposed to them, whether in\nIsrael or in any other nation, must go down before them. It is in\nthis way that the conclusion is reached that Jehovah is the only God.\nThe moral ideal must be one. The whole of the religion of the\nprophets is governed by moral considerations. God asks from man\nnothing but goodness; the true sacrifices are those of the heart and\nconduct. Man's intercourse with God is to be kept up as that of an\naffectionate human relationship, into which no motives either of\nforce or of commerce enter. Although God is so just and holy, he is\nperfectly placable, and ready to greet the approaches which are made\nto him. It is absurd to spend so much money and toil on sacrifice,\nwhen the happiest relations with God can be attained so much more\nsimply. God forgives without any sacrifice; his love and his desire\nto meet with love surpass all that human relationships can show; his\nconstancy is like that of the returning seasons, or of the stars. He\nyearns over Israel as a father over a wayward son, and will leave\nnothing undone that he can do to bring his son back to him. He will\nalter all his former plans to bring about that result. He will change\nman's nature, and give him a new heart, if nothing short of that will\nsuffice; or he will change his own procedure entirely, and deal with\nman not by way of commandments, but by way of inspiration, placing\nhis law in man's inward part, writing it in his heart, so that the\ngreat union of God and man may be attained, which he desires.\n\nIndividualism of the Prophetic Teaching.--Here we must pause to\nnotice another great advance which the prophets have been led to make\nin religious knowledge. Their view of Jehovah as a purely moral\nbeing, and of man's relation to him as a moral relation, like that\nbetween two human beings who have to live together, such as a husband\nand wife or a father and son, makes religion less a matter for the\npeople as a body, more a matter for the individual. When religion is\ncarried on by public sacrifices and stately festivals and ceremonies,\nthen it is the people as a whole that transacts with God, and the\nindividual need feel no great weight of responsibility in the matter.\nBut if God asks for love, if he says he does not care for sacrifice,\nbut insists on love and devotion, and rather than not have it will\nwork a miracle on man's nature, then the individual is addressed.\nEvery one who has any love to offer feels himself appealed to. Only\nin his own heart can any one know whether or not God's desire is met;\nevery one, therefore, who understands the appeal becomes personally\nresponsible for the answer, and religion becomes a matter, not only\nbetween God and the people, but between God and the individual as\nwell. Personal religion, therefore, makes its appearance among the\nJews at this time. Jeremiah carries on dialogues with God; prayer is\nmet with, as the outpouring, not of public needs alone, but of\nprivate feeling; the soul has learned that it is called to a life of\nits own with God, and not merely to a share in the life of the nation\nwith him.\n\nWe have dwelt at some length on the ideas of the prophets; not at\nsuch length, indeed, as to satisfy any of those who love their\nwritings, for we have thrown together in one view what belongs\nhistorically to different centuries, while to the personalities of\nthe prophets, to their sublime certainty and their stupendous\ncourage, we have given no attention. We have stated the outlines also\nof the great movement of thought in which advances of such\ntranscendent importance were made in religion. They are advances\nwhich have not been lost, but which we still enjoy. If it is the gift\nof the Semitic race to bring the thought of God to bear on life with\nsuch direct practical force as Aryan religion never by itself\nexerted, we must look with profound veneration on those Semitic\nthinkers who applied this great force in the service of a God, who\nhas no other nature and property but that of justice and love.\nReligion thus became to them and to all they influenced an engine for\nthe direct promotion of justice and love among men; and we do not\nthink the less of the prophets that the harvest of which they sowed\nthe seed could not be reaped in their day.\n\nProphecy leads to no Immediate Reform.--The message of the prophets\nseems at first sight to have been delivered long before the world was\nready for it. Even the practical measures which can be traced to\ntheir influence are far from being in accordance with their ideas.\nThe causes of this we have already to some extent seen. The prophets\nwere not practical reformers. The amendment they called for was one\nto be realised in individual lives rather than in public policy, and\nthey do not bring forward schemes of reform which they urge the\npeople as a whole to adopt; they rather fling great ideas upon the\nmind of their nation, and leave it to others to find out how\npractical effect may be given to their teaching. To the very end of\nthe Jewish state the prophets and their sympathisers appear to be in\na small minority of their nation. The people as a whole is\nunconverted, the worship of idols goes on, and so does the worship of\nother gods, even in the temple at Jerusalem. It has seemed to some\ngreat scholars that Israel, as a whole, was a heathen people up to\nthe time of the exile, and still needed to be converted to the\nreligion of Jehovah. Kuenen shows[1] in a convincing way that this is\nan exaggeration, and that people and prophets alike held the religion\nof Jehovah to be the true religion of Israel; but up to the exile\nthat religion was not reformed in the way the prophets desired.\n\n[Footnote 1: _Hibbert Lectures_, ii.]\n\nThe Reforms.--Yet the word of Jehovah had not returned to him void\neven during this period. A considerable series of reforms are\nnarrated in the histories, and attested by successive codes of law\nnow embodied in the Pentateuch. These show that the prophetic ideas\nhad gained for themselves a strong party among the people, and that\nin several reigns the court was under their influence. These reforms\nshow progress in two directions. There is a growing desire to make\nthe worship of Jehovah correspond to the exalted new conceptions of\nhis character as a being of incomparable majesty and holiness; and\nthere is, on the other hand, a rapid growth of moral sentiment;\njustice and kindness to others are placed more and more in the\nforefront of the divine requirements. We can do little more than name\nthe passages where the details of these matters may be found. The\nreforms of Hezekiah (1 Kings xviii.) did not last long. He destroyed\na celebrated image of Jehovah, a fate which other images may have\nshared, and he remodelled the worship of the holy places throughout\nJudah, so as to remove its more heathenish features, and concentrate\nit on Jehovah alone. Manasseh, Hezekiah's successor, pursued the\nopposite policy. In his reign a large collection of strange cults,\nsome of them perhaps those of the individual tribes, were brought\nback into use; even the barbarous rite of human sacrifice was\nestablished at Jerusalem, and the worship of Jehovah became more\nintense and darker. The shadow of the Assyrian is upon Israel, and as\ngenerally happens in times of public anxiety, rites long disused are\nimagined to have a specially national character and a peculiar\npotency, and are fetched back from oblivion. The reform of Josiah (2\nKings xxii., xxiii.) was more thorough-going than that of Hezekiah.\nHe made an end of all the unseemly worships his predecessor had\nencouraged at Jerusalem, so that nothing but the direct worship of\nJehovah was left. The strongest step he took, however, was that he\nattempted to put an end altogether to the shrines at which local\nworship had hitherto been conducted, thus making a clean sweep of the\nidolatry of the rural districts. All this was done, we are told, in\naccordance with a law-book which had been found in the temple by\ncertain high officials, and which, after duly consulting a prophetess\nabout the matter, Josiah brought into operation, and solemnly pledged\nhimself and his people to observe. We are in no doubt as to the\nnature of this book. The book of Deuteronomy prescribes just such\nreforms as Josiah carried out, and is generally allowed to have been\nthe written law which was promulgated on this occasion. Now\nDeuteronomy, while incorporating no doubt many old laws, is in spirit\nand effect a work of the prophetic school. Its moral teaching and its\nexhortations to love Jehovah, and to be true to him alone, are quite\nin the manner of Jeremiah, who was living in the reign of Josiah. And\nthe principal reform of Josiah, namely, the suppression of the local\nworships, and the concentration of all worship at the temple of\nJerusalem alone, stands in the forefront of the special laws in\nDeuteronomy. Those who aimed at the reform of religion, according to\nthe ideas of the prophets, had thought this out. The worship of the\none supreme God should take place, they had concluded, at one place\nonly, and should be national in its character; the whole people\nshould worship the one God at its capital. Provision was made that\nthis should not imply the deprivation of the dwellers in country\ndistricts of the use of flesh meat. Formerly, every act of slaughter\nwas a sacrifice, and it was only in connection with a sacrifice that\nthis food could be enjoyed. But in future, animals may be slaughtered\nat a distance from Jerusalem for food only, apart from any connection\nwith sacrifice. The promulgation of Deuteronomy is an important epoch\nin the religion of Israel. That work is the first sacred book of\nIsrael; from this time forward Israel knows the will of Jehovah, not\nonly from the prophet's living voice, but from a book which is\nregarded as having divine authority. This principle once introduced\ncould not fail to develop; to Deuteronomy other books were afterwards\nadded as part of the same law, though in reality they superseded it,\nand it thus proved the nucleus of the whole Jewish canon.\n\nEarlier Codes.--Deuteronomy was not the earliest law drawn up under\nprophetic influence. Leviticus xvii.-xxvi. is recognised as being a\ncode by itself, and is an earlier attempt in the same direction as\nDeuteronomy. The decalogue contained in Deuteronomy v., identical in\nthe main with that of Exodus xx., is of earlier origin than\nDeuteronomy itself, but is also a prophetical work. It deals with\nritual only to the extent of removing certain obstacles to a right\nworship of God, and places the chief weight of his requirements in\nthe fulfilment of the natural duties. An earlier decalogue which\ndeals principally with ritual, and which contains an early prophetic\nattempt to free the worship of Jehovah from heathen abuses, is found\nin Exodus xxxiv. 10-26. The oldest legislation of all is the code\nfound in Exodus xx. 22 to xxiii. 33, which goes by the name of the\nBook of the Covenant. It is true that in form and in many of its\nprecepts it is identical with the Code of Hammurabi (2250 B.C.), and\nso bears strong testimony to Babylonian influence. It is, however,\nmuch more humane than that old code, and in many particulars is\nindependent of it. As it appears in Exodus it belongs to the times of\nthe early canonical prophets, and as it scarcely deals with ritual at\nall, it shows the just and humane spirit cultivated by the religion\nof Jehovah in an agricultural community.\n\nThe Exile.--The reformation of Josiah was quickly undone by his\nsuccessor on the throne, and there was no further opportunity for a\nreform while the people remained in Palestine. But the exile did not\ncause the friends of reform to abandon their ideas. The prophets had\nforetold the exile, and had maintained that the religion of Israel\nwould not be destroyed but rather would be saved by it, and the event\nproved that they were right in this point also. The exile cured the\npeople definitely of idolatry, and gave them a strong grasp of the\nidea that they were a peculiar people, called to a work which no\nother people could accomplish or indeed understand, namely to hold\naloft in the world, and for the benefit of the world, the true\nreligion. This conviction forms the burden of the prophecy of the\nUnknown prophet of the exile (Isaiah xl.-lxvi.). He exalts still more\nhighly than his predecessors the name and power of Jehovah. He is the\nCreator of the ends of the earth, to whom the nations, including even\nthat great Babylon, are as a drop of the bucket, to be flung whither\none will; it is he who has chosen Israel for his people and who now\ncomforts Israel for the sorrows of the exile. In the great drama he\nis unfolding in the earth Israel has a principal part to play. Israel\nis called to make known to the nations who do not know him, the true\nGod. It had been prophesied before that the heathen nations would\ncome to Mount Zion to ask counsel of the God of Judah, and that\nJehovah should become law-giver and judge over them. The Unknown\nenlarges on this theme with splendid imagery, and strives to persuade\nthe people to make this cause their own, and to rise to the\nresponsibility it involves. Israel is to be a prince, a leader and\ncommander, of the peoples. The Gentiles are to come from far bringing\ntheir treasures and doing homage to the people of the true faith. If\nIsrael as a whole is not fit as yet to discharge this duty for the\nworld, yet there is an inner Israel, a faithful elect of the people\nwho sympathise entirely with Jehovah's purposes and are entirely\ndevoted to his will. This \"Servant of Jehovah,\" at least, has risen\nto the height of his calling; Jehovah's spirit is in him. He will not\nfail nor be discouraged till the true religion is established in the\nearth. At another part of the prophecy the fate of the Servant is\nseen in darker colours. He is subject to ill-treatment and\nmisrepresentation of all sorts; even when he is suffering for the\nsake of others he is derided and despised; nay, more,--he is called\nto suffer martyrdom, and die for sins not his own. But even so, the\nServant will conquer in the end. He will know that his sufferings\nhave not been in vain; he will be the means of leading many to\nrighteousness and will be the instrument of Jehovah to bring in the\ntrue religion.\n\nThe Return. The Reform of Ezra.--Such utterances could not fail of\neffect on the nation to whom they were addressed, and when the Jews\ncame back to Palestine they were undoubtedly inspired with a new\nsense of their peculiar national mission. They at once proceeded to\nshow that they were to be a people apart from others, by separating\nthemselves rigorously and even cruelly from entanglements with the\nsurrounding population. They also at once set up the worship of\nJehovah as the sole God who had his one shrine at Jerusalem. Their\nearly experiences in Palestine were not encouraging. For a century\nthey remained a struggling and poor community, and it might seem\ndoubtful if they would prove strong enough to maintain their separate\nposition, and to hold up their special testimony to the world. But at\nthat time the Jews who had remained in Babylon came to their aid.\nThese men had never ceased to labour along with their brethren in\nPalestine for the advancement of their nation; and in particular they\nhad laboured earnestly at the problem of worship, and the result of\ntheir labours was a religious constitution so rigid in its ideas, so\nlogically worked out in detail, and so skilfully incorporating and\nappropriating to itself all the past traditions and usages of the\nrace, that it might almost be said to be strong enough to stand by\nitself, and would certainly afford to the people, if they adopted it,\nthe support and the discipline they needed. This constitution was\nintroduced by Ezra, the priest and scribe, in the year 444 B.C.,[2]\nwhen he read in the ears of the people at Jerusalem (Nehemiah viii.,\nix.) the new law he had brought with him from Babylon fourteen years\nbefore, and had waited all that time to promulgate. The new law of\nthis period was what is called the Priestly Code; it occupies the\nlatter part of Exodus and a large part of Leviticus and Numbers; and\nthe older writings are skilfully interwoven with it, but in general\nit may easily be distinguished by its tone from the work of earlier\nperiods. Deuteronomy, the earliest law-book, is simply tacked on to\nit as if it were a part of the same code, though in reality it is\noften inconsistent with the latter law. The result is the Torah or\nlaw, or, as we call it, the Pentateuch, or the five books of Moses\n(Moses being regarded by a convenient fiction as the source of all\nJewish laws). This was thenceforward the law of the Jews.\n\n[Footnote 2: This date and many features of the story of Ezra and the\nreturn have of late been much questioned. See \"Ezra\" in _Encyclopaedia\nBiblica_. The account given above follows Wellhausen.]\n\nThe Jewish religion, of which this is the code, is generally\ndistinguished from the religion of Israel which prevailed down to the\nexile; and several important new principles undoubtedly make their\nappearance at this point. This chapter may fittingly conclude with an\nenumeration first of the features of Jewish religious life connected\nwith the law or the priestly system, and then of those features of it\nwhich lie outside that system.\n\n1. The priestly religion is founded on a sentiment which forms but\nlittle part of the faith of early peoples, namely the sense of sin.\nThe prophetic denunciations of Israel's backslidings have at last\nfound entrance, and the people is found submitting to a system which\nimplies that the whole of its past history was sinful and mistaken,\nand that there is a constant need for supplicating forgiveness. Every\nprayer begins with a long confession of national sin, in which the\npresent generation also shares. \"We have sinned with our fathers,\"\nthey say. This view is spread over the historical books in the\nsweeping judgments passed on individual monarchs, on periods of the\nnational life, and especially on the whole of the Northern Kingdom\n(cf. Nehemiah ix.). The old confidence in the presence of Jehovah\nwith his people has now departed. The earlier Israelites never\ndoubted that Jehovah was in the midst of them; that could be taken\nfor granted except when events proved the contrary. But now Jehovah\nhas grown greater and more awful, while the people have become\npainfully aware of their deficiencies and cannot assume that he is\nwith them, but must take steps to secure his presence. This is no\ndoubt connected with the growing sense of an individual position and\nresponsibility in religion. To the nation or the tribe it is natural\nto feel that its cause is just and that its God is with it; but the\nindividual, thrown upon his own inner world for his alliances, is\nless apt to feel that confidence. Now the religion preached by the\nprophets is essentially one for the individual. Ezekiel especially\nfelt himself responsible for the fate of individuals, and laboured to\nawaken his fellow-countrymen one by one to a sense of their danger\nand responsibility; he taught that each man had to see to his own\nsalvation, that each man would receive the fruit of his own acts. All\nthis tends to a deeper feeling and a more anxious mood in religion,\nand helps to explain how the sense of sin, on which religious\nprogress at its higher stages depends so much, was fixed so strongly\nin the Jewish mind. That the Jews underwent a radical change in their\ndisposition is proved by the fact that they submitted to the yoke of\nthe law: for it may be questioned if any people ever sacrificed their\nnatural liberty for the sake of their religion to such an extent as\nthis people did.\n\n2. The divine will is now received by the people in the shape of a\nsacred book. They cease to look for the living voice of prophecy, and\ncome to think that God has given them in the Torah a perfect and\ncomplete revelation. The book takes the place of the prophet, and in\ntime also to some extent of conscience. A man ceases to think for\nhimself what is right and good, and only asks, What does the law say?\nIt is true that a great part of the book is taken up with ritual,\nwith which the ordinary individual has not much to do, but he also\nbelieves that the whole of his own duty is to be found there in it,\nas is no doubt the case. We see from the 119th Psalm how beautiful a\nform religion may assume even under these terms, when the book in\nquestion is felt to be a spiritual treasure, and to speak the words\nof a living God; but the system of a book-religion has in it the\ngerms of very different fruits. The sacred book is believed to be an\nexhaustive directory of conduct; but to make it apply to the various\ncases that arise in practical life it has to be interpreted, and\ndeductions have to be drawn from it. It thus comes to give many a\ndirection which does not appear on the surface. The secondary law, or\n\"tradition,\" is thus founded, a system which calls for the services\nof a special class of students. The scribes, who interpret the law\nand apply it to life, obtain great influence and become the virtual\nrulers of the nation. While no doubt guided in the main by the noble\nspirit of their religion, they are led by their system into many\nabsurdities, and their casuistry even becomes at times immoral. They\nafford the classical example of the results which flow from the\ndoctrine of verbal inspiration, thoroughly worked out; and the life\nof the Jews under them becomes highly unnatural and artificial, and\ntends to occupy itself with the husk instead of the kernel of\nreligion.\n\n3. The principal part of the divine will, as expressed in the law, is\nthat connected with sacrifice. Sacrifice occupies the central place\nin the book, and in the history it records. In this book the temple\nservice, thinly disguised as the service of the tabernacle in the\nwilderness, is set forth as the great end and aim for which God\ncreated the world, settled the nations in it, and called Israel to be\na people. The ritual which was observed from the exile to the\ndestruction of Jerusalem may be studied in Exodus and Leviticus. We\nread of orders and companies of priests who offer daily and other\nsacrifices according to a rule in which the smallest details are\ncarefully arranged, sacrifices in which little of the old cheerful\ncommon meal now lingers, but which are mostly of a purificatory or\npiacular character. The ritual of sacrifice would not appear to an\noutward observer to differ very much from that in use among the\nGreeks or Romans; the Jews certainly conducted it on a larger scale.\nWhat end precisely was aimed at in it, the Jew would have found it\nperhaps hard to say. It was done, he would say, because the law so\nordered it, and the law must be obeyed even if one did not quite\nunderstand what was enjoined. The daily sacrifice removed the\nimpurity of the temple staff, and enabled the people to be sure that\nthe favour of the deity continued with them. Many sacrifices aimed at\nthe removal of particular sins; thankfulness also was expressed in\nthem, and other feelings may also have ascended with the smoke from\nthe altar. To Jews living at a distance the sacrifice, which could be\noffered nowhere but at Jerusalem, was the chief symbol, the great\nmystery, of their faith.\n\n4. The notion of holiness is closely connected with worship. Things\nand persons are holy which belong to Jehovah, and are withdrawn from\ncommon use. These it is dangerous to touch unwarily. Jehovah is an\nunapproachable being; the high priest may come into the innermost\npart of the temple, but only once a year, and no one else may come\nthere; the priests may enter the Holy Place, but not the people. To\nspeak lightly of the temple was a crime the Jews could not forgive.\nThe Sabbath was the Lord's day; man must not attend on it to his own\nworldly concerns. The deity is surrounded with dread to an\nunparalleled extent; all that belongs to him is to be regarded with\nawe. Connected with the notion of holiness is that of purity. In the\nlater Persian religion the distinction has always to be anxiously\nremembered by the believer between what belongs to the good spirit\nand what has fallen under the power of the evil spirit. The Jew,\nalso, who is called to be holy and separate from other men, lives in\nconstant dread lest he should touch something unclean, and so forfeit\nhis own purity. There are clean animals, and unclean ones which he\nmust not eat; various washings of the hands and of domestic utensils\nare needed in order to keep up the state of purity; many trades\ninvolve contact with substances which make purity almost impossible.\nAbove all, it is defiling to eat what a heathen has cooked, or to sit\nat the same table with heathens. Thus the Jew was confirmed in the\nbelief of his own superiority to men of other races; and was\nprevented by many barriers from mingling with them, or even regarding\nthem as brethren. His circumcision, his Sabbath, his laws of purity,\nhis peculiarities of diet, the absolute impossibility of his eating\nalong with Gentiles, kept him separate, and helped to nourish in him\nthe spirit of haughtiness and exclusiveness. The accepted worshipper\nof Jehovah is, with the early prophets, the man who is morally sound,\nwho has curbed his passions and his selfish impulses; with the later\nJew that may still be the case, but there are also a number of\nindispensable preliminaries of which the prophets certainly did not\ndream. The man who would go up to the hill of Jehovah must be one who\nhas not eaten shell-fish or pork, nor opened his shop on the Sabbath,\nnor touched a dead body, nor used a spoon handed to him by a Gentile\nwithout washing it. How all this unfitted the Jewish people to be a\nmissionary of the pure religion, and how adverse the whole Levitical\nsystem was to the earnest apprehension of that religion no less than\nto its diffusion, the New Testament amply shows. But it kept the\npeople separate from the world and constant to their faith amid even\nthe greatest temptations and the severest persecutions, and so\nenabled them to preserve the precious treasure committed to them till\nthe time should come when the world was to receive it from their\nhands.\n\nHeathenish Elements of Judaism.--In the system we have sketched, in\nwhich the prophetic teaching was hardened into a ritual and a law,\nthere are various elements which do not belong to an advanced stage\nof religious progress. While the sacrificial ritual, not outwardly\nexalted above heathenism, is to some extent redeemed by the motives\nwhich enter into it, the great system of clean and unclean rests on\nno rational basis, and resembles the set of taboos, which no one can\nexplain, of a savage tribe; and the reduction of daily life under a\nset of minute and troublesome rules, shows the devotion more than the\nenlightenment of those who submitted to it. There was a necessity\nthat the vessel should be so narrow and so hard which was to keep the\nwine of Jewish religion from being mixed with other liquids, but the\nvessel itself belongs to the rude and early world. In the Jewish\nreligion of this time there are far different elements, which point\nforward and not backward, and in which the future course of religious\nprogress is clearly anticipated. If his temple ritual was crude, and\nif his law pursued him into every one of his actions, the thoughts of\nthe Jew were free; the truths which were unfolding their riches in\nhis mind were sufficient compensation for much outward restraint, and\nthe fair world of imagination was open to him in which the past\nclothed itself with legend and the future with splendid hopes.\n\nSpiritual Elements.--The period after the exile is that of the\ncomposition of the Psalms. Many of these poems may have been written\nearlier; many were undoubtedly written at this time, and the belief\ngains ground that the Psalmist came after the prophet, and adopted\nfor popular use the prophet's ideas. In the Psalter we hear the\nthrill of joy and triumph as the great truths of theism come to be\ngrasped as certainties. The congregation now utters in song what,\nwhen the prophet first announced it, so few had courage to believe,\nthat Jehovah is king, that he rules over the nations, that he is far\nabove all the gods, nay, that there is no other God than he. The joy\nof having embraced this thought, of having escaped from all confusion\nwith regard to the powers that rule the world, and of seeing all\nthings in this splendid light, finds manifold expression. The\nbelievers delight themselves anew in the worship of Jehovah, and see\nfresh beauties in his courts, and in the service of him there; they\ndelight in his word in connection with every part of their\nexperience. They understand the world as they never did before, since\nit is his work, and praise the Creator as they follow the whole\nprocess of creation. New lights open to them on the history of their\nrace, new solutions occur to them of the moral difficulties they have\nfelt, as they saw the wicked prosper and the good cast down. There is\nvery little about ritual in the Psalms; it is regarded chiefly as an\noffering of thanks and praise to Jehovah for his wonderful works, and\nfor his mercies; and it is viewed ideally as an act of homage in\nwhich not only the immediate worshippers, but all nations on the\nearth may be conceived as taking part. On the other hand, the\nobservance of Jehovah's moral requirements, and implicit trust in him\nwhile one seeks to do his will, is insisted on again and again, as\nthe true method to please him, and to obtain his protection against\nall dangers. There are few moods of the religious life that are not\nrepresented in the Psalms: penitence, intellectual perplexity,\ndomestic sorrow, feebleness, loneliness, the approach of death, the\nexcitement of great events, the agony of persecution, quiet\ncontemplation of nature, each has its word. The imprecations of some\nof the Psalms show a trait of the national character without which\nthe picture would be incomplete. It may be in part extenuated by the\nconsideration that in these Psalms it is the community that speaks,\nand that the enemy of the good cause deserves less forbearance than\nthe private adversary. Whether the Psalms in general are to be\nconceived as uttered by the community rather than as private\noutpourings, is a question not yet decided. In either sense the\nPsalms have been used and are still used as the hymn-book of\nChristendom, as well as of the Jews; and it will always be a\nwonderful feature in the religion of Israel, that so soon after the\ntruth of the one God was discovered by the prophets, it received a\nform of expression which has proved fitted for the use of every\nnation in the world.\n\nThe Jews after the exile are in possession of a new form of religious\nassociation which belongs to a high stage of growth. The temple\nworship is one in which the ordinary layman has no part, or only an\noccasional part to play. The priest does everything in it; even the\nsinging of Psalms is done by choirs of priests. And the dweller in\nthe country might rarely be a witness of these great solemnities. But\nwe know that in the Maccabean period the country was covered with\nsynagogues: with buildings, that is to say, where the surrounding\npopulation met on the Sabbath, and perhaps on other days as well, to\njoin in common prayer, and to hear lessons of Scripture and\nexhortations. Some local religious meeting was necessary; an earnest\npeople could not do without it, and the local sacrifices were now of\nthe past. But the synagogue service marks a great advance in the\nreligious position of the Jews. They can now meet without any act or\nsacrament which they have to do in common, to engage in purely\nintellectual religious exercises. The same advance, as we shall see,\ntook place in Greece about the same time; what moral or religious\nfurtherance they wanted, the earnest there began to seek from the\nlectures of philosophers. The synagogue, however, was a territorial\ninstitution; all the Jews in the neighbourhood came to its services.\nIt kept them acquainted with the law which otherwise they might have\nforgotten, and also with the writings of the prophets, which were\nregularly read, and thus strengthened the bonds which held all Jews\ntogether, in the past history and in the growing hopes of their race.\n\nThe National Hopes.--Judaism becomes more and more, as befits a faith\nof which prophets are the principal exponents, a religion of hope.\nDebarred by their subjection under successive heathen powers from\npolitical activity, and keenly aware of their outward humiliation,\nthe Jews turn to an ideal world in which they are free. The prophets\nhad spoken of a judgment in which Jehovah would judge the whole\nworld, of a happy time when Israel would be at peace from all his\nenemies, and God and people would dwell together in full communion;\nand when the land of Israel would become the religious capital of the\nworld. They had added to their picture features even more ideal, and\nhad declared that the conflicts of external nature would cease, the\nwild animals would grow tame and friendly, all physical as well as\nall moral evil would disappear. It was in this world, not in a remote\nregion or in the land beyond death, that all this was to be realised.\nJerusalem is the centre of the picture and the Jewish nation stands\nin the foreground of it as the chosen people of the God of all the\nworld. Now these predictions, which with the prophets are vague and\nidealised, were taken by the Jews always more seriously and worked\nout in detail. After the prophet comes the apocalyptic writer, such\nas Daniel (the Apocalypse of the New Testament belongs to the same\nclass of literature), who is able to give the exact course of the\nhistory which is to lead up to the final judgment, to fix its precise\ndate, and to give many details of the ultimate state of affairs.\nThese \"revelations,\" which were written generally to comfort the Jews\nin their trials and to encourage them to steadfastness in\npersecution, were very popular. It is true that they nourished the\nnational pride, and enabled the Jew to feel himself superior to a\nworld in which he occupied outwardly no great position; but on the\nother hand the hopes they fed were not necessarily unspiritual; at\nthe Christian era we find it to be a mark of the most genuine piety\nthat one should be \"waiting for the redemption of Israel.\" At this\nperiod the national hope was occupied with the figure of a Messiah, a\nGod-sent Deliverer, whose coming was to be the prelude to the\nestablishment of the divine kingdom. We learn from the Gospels what\nvarious ideas were entertained by the Jews of the first century about\nthis \"coming one,\" and how little Jesus Christ was felt to answer to\nthe common expectation.\n\nA few words must be said of Jewish beliefs concerning the other\nworld. While there are traces of an old ancestor-worship in the\nearlier parts of Jewish history, no belief of the kind had much\nimportance in Israel. The Jews shared the general belief of the early\nworld that the dead continued in a shadowy existence without any\npower for action. They have an under-world, Sheol, where the dead\nare; Isaiah has a magnificent description of the dead kings sitting\non thrones together in Sheol and rising up to greet a newcomer who\nwas a great potentate on earth, with the words \"Art thou also become\nweak as we? Art thou become like unto us?\" The dead are conceived as\ncontinuing in a weak and unsubstantial reflection of their former\nselves. They can be fetched up to the earth by magic arts to tell the\nfuture, but this was strictly forbidden at a very early time. The\nPsalms and other later books contain many plain denials that man has\nany continuance to look for after death. The religion of the Old\nTestament, as has often been said, is for this life. God's rewards\nare to be looked for before death; once gone to the grave one can no\nmore enjoy God's bounty or give him thanks. God's kingdom of the\nfuture is also a kingdom of this world; Jerusalem is its capital, and\nnature is to be transformed for it. In the later period of Jewish\nhistory, however, the hope of the future which has been so entirely\nabandoned, which Job, for example, in an early chapter puts so\nperemptorily away from him, creates itself afresh in a new form. In\nthe time of Christ the Jews believe, as a matter of course, that men\nwill rise again. It has been contended that the Jews derived their\nlater doctrine of a future life from their contact with Persia, but\nit is not necessary to account for it in this way. It arose naturally\namong the Jews in more ways than one. The individual believer like\nJob, entirely sure of his own innocence, and feeling that he was\ndoomed to die of his disease without any vindication in this life,\nclaimed that an opportunity should be found beyond the grave to\npronounce the sentence which a just God could not omit to give. In\nDaniel xii. it is foretold that men of conspicuous virtue and men of\nconspicuous wickedness will have a resurrection--the former to share\nthe glories of the kingdom from which as teachers and martyrs they\ncould not be wanting, the latter to receive their punishment. And as\nprophets who have been long dead are expected to return to the earth,\nthe gate of death is not so firmly closed as formerly and the belief\nin a future life easily became current.\n\nThus Judaism comes to be a religion full of contradictions, and could\nnot as a whole pass to other nations. The temple and the synagogue\nrepresent opposite principles of worship. The Jew feels himself to be\nentrusted with a world-religion, and yet shuts himself up in such\nexclusiveness as to draw upon himself the hatred of all peoples, and\nto be charged in turn with hatred of the human race. A religion of\nfaith and love consorts with a religion of rules and limitations. If\nthe faith of Israel was to fulfil its mission to the world it was\nnecessary that some one should come who could purge this\nthreshing-floor, burning the chaff and gathering up the wheat to be\nthe seed of the progress of mankind.\n\n\nBOOKS RECOMMENDED\n\nThe Books of the Old Testament, including the Apocrypha, in the\nRevised Version.\n\nThe Histories of Israel; Ewald, Kuenen, Wellhausen, Stade.\n\nRobertson Smith's _The Old Testament in the Jewish Church_, and\narticles in the _Encyclopaedia Britannica_.\n\nSmend's _Alttestamentliche Religionsgeschichte_.\n\nStade, _Biblische Theologie des Alten Testaments_, 1905.\n\nFor a criticism of the critical historians the reader may consult\n_The Early Religion of Israel_, by Prof. James Robertson.\n\nProf. Valeton, _Die Israeliten_, in De la Saussaye.\n\nSchuerer, _History of the Jewish People in the Time of Christ_,\n1885-90.\n\nKantzsch, \"Religion of Israel,\" in _Dictionary of the Bible_, vol. v.\n\nE. J. Foakes-Jackson, _The Biblical History of the Hebrews_, Second\nEdition.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XIII\nISLAM\n\n\nIn chronological order Islam stands last of all the great religions;\nit appeared six centuries after Christianity, and Christian ideas\nenter into it. It is, however, so essentially Semitic that it can\nonly be understood aright if studied in connection with the group now\noccupying our attention. In Islam Semitic religion opens its arms to\nembrace mankind, and accomplishes, in a fashion, the destiny to which\nJudaism was invited, but which Judaism failed to realise till it was\ntransformed in Christianity. In Islam Semitic religion is not\ntransformed, but enters in its own stern and uncompromising character\ninto the position of a universal faith.\n\nThis religion sprang up and entered on its career of conquest with\nstartling suddenness and even, some scholars hold, without any\nnatural preparation for its coming in the country of its birth. The\nArabs called the period before Islam the \"time of ignorance\"; in that\nperiod they considered their race had no history; the new religion,\nwhen it arose, had made a clean sweep of all that had gone before,\nand had caused a new world to begin. The labours of Arabic scholars\nhave, however, done something to dispel the mists which hung over\nearly Arabia, and it is possible both to give a much more\nsatisfactory sketch than formerly of the earlier religion of the\nArabs, and to discern to some extent the processes which had\nunconsciously been preparing for the advent of a higher and stronger\nfaith.\n\nArabia before Mahomet.--The Arabs of the central peninsula in the\ntimes before Mahomet were not a nation but a set of tribes--mostly\nnomadic, but some of them settled in cities, who, while united by\nlanguage, custom, and traditions, had no central government or\norganisation. The desert which they inhabited, as it admitted no\ncultivation, kept human life uniform and unprogressive; external\ninfluences penetrated slowly into this corner of the world, and\nsociety was still arranged as it had been for thousands of years. The\nstrongest tie was that of blood. A man's fellow-tribesmen were bound\nto avenge his murder; and so one slaughter led to another, and from\ngeneration to generation the land was filled with a perpetual series\nof blood-feuds. Twice a year, however, a cessation of these feuds\ntook place; a month came round in which there was a universal truce.\nMen who were enemies then made the same pilgrimage to a distant\nshrine; at such a time trade caravans could set out and travel in\nsafety; and the great markets or festivals then took place, which,\nwhile based at first on religious ideas, had in most part ceased to\nhave any religious character. Some of these markets were, at the time\nof Mahomet, national occasions: men of every tribe met and came to\nknow each other there; the poetry which had been composed during the\npreceding months was publicly recited, so that the rise of a new poet\nwas known to all Arabia; the news of all the tribes circulated, and\nforeign ideas and doctrines were also to be heard. In proportion as\nthe face of nature was hard and forbidding, social life was bright\nand gay; wine, women, wit, and war provided the themes of poets and\nthe ordinary aims of life.\n\nThe Old Religion.--It has generally been said that the Arabs before\nIslam were irreligious. They themselves contrasted the sternness of\nthe new period with the gaiety of the old one. The truth is, as\nWellhausen has admirably shown,[1] that the working religion of the\ncountry had become before the period of Islam entirely effete. Arab\nreligion was based on the ideas and usages which have been described\nin chap. x. of this book; it is mainly from Arabia, indeed, that the\noriginal character of Semitic religion is known to us. Each tribe had\nits god, whom it regarded as a magnified master or ruler, and with\nwhom it held communion by sacrifice, the blood being brought in\ncontact with the god and the victim devoured by the tribesmen. The\ngod is represented sometimes by a tree, generally by a stone; a piece\nof fertile land belongs to him, within which the plants and animals\nare sacred; the religious meeting can be held in no other spot. Hence\nthe Arabs are said to be stone worshippers; but the phrase is an\nawkward one: what they worshipped was not the stone but a god\nconnected with it. And the early gods of Arabia are a motley company;\nit is only in their relations to their worshippers and in the order\nof the worship paid them that they have some uniformity. The greatest\nand oldest deity of the Arabs is Allat or Alilat, \"the Lady.\" Like\nthe female deity found in all primitive Semitic religions, she is a\nstately and commanding lady. She is not the wife of a god, nor are\nunseemly ideas connected with her. She belongs to the early world in\nwhich motherhood was synonymous with rule, since the family had no\nmale head; she has a character but no history: mythology has not\ngathered round her. Arabia has also certain nature-gods. The stellar\ndeities are mostly female; there is a male sun-god Dusares. Heaven is\nworshipped by some, not the blue but the rainy heaven, which is a\nsource of blessings. There are no gods belonging to the region under\nthe earth. The serpent is the only animal that receives worship.\n\n[Footnote 1: _Reste Arabischen Heidenthums_, p. 188.]\n\nBut the gods of Arabia belong mostly to another class than that of\nnature-gods; or at least if they ever were connected with nature,\nthey have parted with such associations. They are uncouth figures,\nwith vague legends and miscellaneous attributes. One set of them is\nsaid to have been worshipped by the contemporaries of Noah; they are\nbig men, and it is their property to drink milk. Hubal was the chief\ngod of Mecca. It was his property to bring rain. Vadd was a great\nman, with two garments, and a sword and spear, bow and quiver.\nJaghuth, \"the Helper,\" was a portable god, not a stone probably,\nsince he was carried into battle by his tribe, as the ark was by the\nIsraelites. Another god is called \"the Burner,\" no doubt from the\nsacrifices offered to him. Each tribe has its god or set of gods, and\ncertain sacred objects connected with its gods. One god is found by\nthose who kiss or rub a certain black stone, another in connection\nwith a white stone, another with a tree. And of many of them there\nare images; the stone has some work done on it, or there is a wooden\nblock roughly hewn. The \"Caaba\" is originally a black stone which is\nkissed or rubbed at Mecca. The name was given, however, to the\ncube-shaped building, in one of the walls of which the black stone\nhad been fixed. In this building there stood in old days images of\nAbraham and Ishmael, each with divining arrows in his hand. Of such\nidols a large number existed in Mahomet's time, and were destroyed by\nhim. In some cases the image had a house, and a person was needed to\nguard it; this functionary also kept some simple apparatus for\ncasting lots or otherwise obtaining counsel from the deity, and oaths\nand vows were made before him, to which the deity became a witness.\n\nTo these beliefs of early Arabia must be added a lively belief in\njinns, spirits who are not gods, since the gods are above the earth,\nbut the jinn is compelled to haunt some part of the earth's surface.\nThe jinns can assume any form they choose, and are often met with in\nthe shape of serpents. Wellhausen surmises that the seraphs of the\nJews are to be traced to some such origin. They infest desert places,\nand are nocturnal in their habits. What they do is often not observed\ntill afterwards. They spy upon the gods, and may bring information\nfrom above to men whom they haunt or with whom they are in league. Of\nthe magic of Arabia, the signs and omens drawn from birds, from\ndreams, and other occurrences, it is not necessary to speak; and we\nneed only say, in concluding this rough sketch of the ideas of the\nearly Arabs, that the belief in a life beyond was very faint; they\nset out food for the dead, whom they professed to think of as still\nexisting, but the belief, if they entertained it, was perfunctory and\nhad no influence.\n\nConfusion of Worship.--At the period of Islam the worship of Arabia\nhad fallen into great confusion. The gods were stationary, but the\ntribes wandered; and the consequence was that the wandering tribe\nleft its shrine behind it to be cared for by its successors in that\npiece of country, and itself also, when it gained a new seat,\nsucceeded to the guardianship of a new god. Thus, on the one hand,\nthe worship of each shrine was constantly gathering new associations,\nas each tribe which had been there left behind it some new legend or\npractice; and on the other hand, pilgrimage became universal, since\neach tribe had to pay periodical visits to its gods whom it had left\nbehind. At Mecca we read of hundreds of idols; a hundred tribes have\nleft there something of their own. Thus Mecca became a sacred place\nfor tribes far and near, and rose into national importance; and the\nsame was the case to a less degree in other places also. But as this\nprocess went on, it inevitably led to the weakening of religion. The\ntie of blood, which was felt always, was a far stronger thing than\nthe tie of a common worship for which the tribe had to go to another\npart of the country, and to come in contact with a multitude of other\ncults. Worship therefore became more and more a superstition: a\nthing, that is to say, whose real sacredness was in the past, and\nwhich was only kept up from pious habit; it did not supply the\ninspiration of ordinary life nor guide the more active minds among\nthe people.\n\nWe have not yet spoken of Allah, who is understood to be the god _par\nexcellence_ of Arabia. But for this there is a good reason. Allah is\nnot, like the other beings we have spoken of, a historical god, with\na legend, a shrine, a tribe all to himself. He is not a historical\npersonage, but an idea consolidated, no doubt at an early period,\ninto a god. Wellhausen traces the rise of Allah for us in a most\ninteresting way. The name, he shows, is not a proper name that\nbelonged to one particular figure in the pantheon of Arabia; it is\nthe title which the Arab conferred on his god, whatever the proper\nname of that being might be. Whatever god he worshipped, he called\nhim Allah, Lord; and thus every Arabic god was Allah, as every head\nof a household has the name of \"father\" and every monarch that of\n\"king.\" And as every tribal god was Allah, the thought arose, no\ndoubt in very early times, of one god who was common to the tribes.\nLanguage paved the way for thought; while the tribal gods were still\nbelieved in and adored, this figure rose above them--a being who has\nno special worship of his own, who does not ask for it nor need it,\nbut who yet fills, as none of the lesser beings does, the character\nof deity. Allah was the god of all the tribes; and as his figure grew\nin the mind of the country, it was inevitable that the worship of the\nhistorical gods should still further lose its importance, till only\nthe women and children really cared for it. A monotheism of a grave\nand earnest kind thus made its way beside the old belief in many\ngods. Mahomet found that his fellow-countrymen did not really believe\nin the minor gods; when they were in danger or in urgent need of any\nblessing, it was to Allah that they called. The fall of the idols,\nwhen it came about, took place very easily; they were no longer\nneeded. The Arabs had come to believe in a god who dwelt in heaven\nand was the creator of the world, who ordained man's life with an\nirreversible decree, by whom the bitter and the sweet, both the\nhitting of the mark and the missing it, were alike fixed. The moral\ncharacter of Allah was not markedly in advance of that of his people.\nWhat a man gains by robbery he calls the gift of Allah, while what is\ngained by industry is called by another name. Yet Allah is also felt\nby some to keep them back from robbery; he powerfully upholds the\nmoral standards which have been reached. He is the defender of\nstrangers, the avenger of treason. His moral influence is negative,\nhowever, rather than positive. He does not inspire with ideals of\ngoodness; but he holds back from evil. He is not a being who is ever\nlikely to enter, like the God of the Jews, into intimate and\naffectionate relations with men; he is too abstract and has too\nlittle history to be capable of such unbending; his religion, when it\ncomes to be fully formed, will be one of puritans and fanatics rather\nthan of the meek and lowly. He is the one great instance of a god\nwithout any natural basis who has come to exercise rule. He is a god\nof whom reason can thoroughly approve--no absurd legends cling to\nhim; he is from the first great, mighty, and moral; and he rules the\nworld in righteousness by inflexible standards. This religion is\ncoming to the surface even in the \"time of ignorance.\"\n\nJudaism and Christianity in Arabia.--The question has been much\ndiscussed whether the new religion of Arabia was due to contact with\nJudaism or with Christianity. Both of these faiths were known in\nArabia before the time of the Prophet. There was a large Jewish\npopulation at Medina, and synagogues existed in many other places;\nand there were Christians in Arabia, though their Christianity was\nthat only of small sects and of lonely ascetics, and had failed to\nconvert the country as a whole. To the Arabs the Jews were \"the\npeople of the Book,\" the book in the traditions of which they also\nhad some share. Ignorant themselves for the most part of the arts of\nreading and writing, and divided among a multitude of petty worships\nwhich they were ceasing to respect, they looked up with envy to those\nwhose faith had been fixed for so many ages in a literary standard.\nBut while the Jews were respected in Arabia, they were far from\npopular. The qualities which have drawn down on them the bitter\nhatred of modern peoples among whom they dwell, acted there in the\nsame way; their pride and exclusiveness, their keenness in business,\ntheir profession as money-lenders, made them detested in Arabia as in\nmodern Germany. On the other hand, the ascetic view of life which the\nChristians represented had attractions even for some of the higher\nminds among the Arabs. A set of men called \"Hanyfs\" were well known\nin Mahomet's time, who were seeking for a better religion than the\nArab worships afforded, and a better life than that of eternal feud.\nThe meaning of the name is controverted; those to whom it was applied\nhad not attached themselves to Judaism nor to Christianity; they were\npeople in earnest about religion who had not reached any definite\nposition. Even where, as with Mahomet himself, the facts of Judaism\nand of Christianity were most inaccurately known, the view of God\nheld in these religions and the moral standard they set up could not\nfail to exercise much influence. If in Arab thought itself a god like\nAllah was rising to definite personal character and to a position of\ngreat superiority over the old gods, then the inner movement was in\nthe same direction as the influence of older religions from without,\nand the time was ripe for a new faith. It was not to be expected that\na people like the Arabs should accept a religion which had its origin\nin another country, or which threatened like Christianity to bring to\nan end the old tribal system; a new growth from within was needed,\nand this was ready to appear.\n\nThe beginnings of most religions are wrapt in obscurity; but the rise\nof Islam is known to us with perfect certainty and in considerable\ndetail. The only difficulties in the way of understanding it are of a\npsychological nature; we have to account for the foundation of a\nreligion which spread with lightning speed over many lands, and which\nstill continues to spread, by one whose character was in some\nrespects far from noble, and who was capable of stooping to\ncompromise and to the darkest treachery in order to gain his ends.\nHow a religion fitted for many races and many generations of men\ncould be founded by a barbarian and by the aid of barbarous\nmeans--that is the problem of this religion. The materials for\nsolving it lie open before us. The Koran is undoubtedly the authentic\nwork of Mahomet himself: the suras or chapters are arranged in a\nwrong order, and if they are read as they stand do not tell any\nintelligible story; but when placed, as has now been done by\nscholars,[2] in the true historical order, they show the history of\nMahomet's mind with great clearness. After the Koran came the\ntraditions. From the immense volume of these the industry of the\nscholars of Islam as well as others has succeeded in sifting out what\nis most to be relied on. In no other case is the separation of the\nmythical from the historical element in the early traditions so\neasily made, and the religion comes into view in the full light of\nday.\n\n[Footnote 2: S. Lane-Poole, _The Speeches of Mohammad_, 1882; the\nmost important parts of the Koran chronologically arranged with a\nvery useful introduction.]\n\nMahomet. Early Life.--Mahomet was born about 570 A.D., of a family\nbelonging to the Mecca branch of the Coreish, a powerful tribe, who\ncarried on a large caravan trade with Syria, and who were the\nguardians of the sanctuary which was the central point of Arabian\nreligion. He entered therefore from his birth into the centre of the\nfaith of his country. He was early left an orphan, and was brought up\nby relatives, who were kind to him but who were very poor. He had to\nmake his living at an early age by herding sheep, an occupation which\nconduced in his case, as it has done in others, to contemplation and\nthought. In early manhood he entered the service of Khadija, a rich\nwidow; and he made journeys in her affairs to Syria and Palestine,\nwhere he may have seen places famous in Jewish history and may also\nhave come in contact with Christianity. At the age of twenty-five he\nmarried Khadija, who was fifteen years older than himself; the\nmarriage was a happy one, and there were several children. He is\ndescribed as a man of middle height, with a fair skin, a pleasant\ncountenance, and pleasing manners; and he had proved his ability in\nbusiness. Some years after his marriage he began to think deeply\nabout religious subjects. He came into connection apparently with\nsome of those Hanyfs or penitents, mentioned above, who, without\nbeing formed into a sect, were at one in seeking for a more\nsatisfactory religious position. The religion to which they were\nfeeling their way was a monotheism, a service of the one God of\nAbraham, but not that of Judaism with its exaltation of the Jewish\nrace, nor that of Christianity, in which God had a Son for his\ncompanion. Submission to the one God was to them the essence of\nreligion. \"Islam\" means submission, and the \"Moslem\" is the person\nwho thus submits himself to the one sole God, whether he be Jew or\nChristian or neither. The Hanyfs also held the belief of the\nChristians in a coming judgment; and the effect of their beliefs on\ntheir lives was that they practised austerities and often retired\nfrom the world.\n\nHis Religious Impressions.--Mahomet at this part of his life began\nalso to withdraw himself, and to go apart to lonely spots for\nmeditation. What he meditated we see from his sayings and doings\nafterwards. The contrast between the pure religion of Allah, as held\nby the Hanyfs, and the popular religion of Mecca with which his birth\nconnected him, with its trade associations, its idols, its\nunintelligible rites, was certainly a tremendous one; and if a\njudgment was impending over all but the believers in Allah, it was a\nterrible prospect. For many years, however, Mahomet was simply a\nHanyf. He was one who had surrendered himself, with a tender and\nimpressionable soul, to the divine will and guidance, and was filled\nwith the sense of Allah's presence and power, and of his own\naccountability to him in the great and tremendous realities of life.\nIn addition to this, however, we have to mention a circumstance which\nis generally thought to have had a determining influence in Mahomet's\nproduction of Islam. He had a peculiar temperament; mental excitement\nled in him to inner catastrophes which, whether they are classed\nunder epilepsy or hysteria, caused him to see visions and to believe\nthat certain words had been addressed to him by heavenly visitants.\nThe new religious movement in Arabia had secured an adherent in whom\nits teachings would be felt with tremendous intensity, and would\npossibly break forth with irresistible force.\n\nThe Revelations.--Mahomet was forty years of age when the thoughts\nwhich had long been working within him burst into open expression.\nThis took place by means of a vision. An angel appeared to him as he\nslept on Mount Hira on one of his nightly wanderings, and held a\nscroll before him which he bade him read. He had not learned to read,\nbut the angel insisted, and so he read; and what he read was the\nearliest revealed piece of the Koran (sura 96):--\n\n  Read,[3] in the name of thy Lord who created, created man from a\n  drop. Read, for thy Lord is the Most High, who hath taught by the\n  pen, hath taught to man what he knew not. Nay, truly man walketh in\n  delusion when he deemeth that he sufficeth for himself; to thy Lord\n  they must all return.\n\nAll men, _i.e._, however they may think, as the Arabs were given\nto think, that they need no help but that of their own right arm,\nmust come before Allah's judgment and render an account to him:\nthis is the doctrine by which Mahomet first appealed to his\nfellow-countrymen. It is a revelation. Allah teaches it by sending\ndown a copy of what is written in the Book in heaven, the \"mother of\nthe Book\" from which all revelations, Jewish, Christian, or Mahomet's\nown, are alike derived. Mahomet has thus begun to prophesy. The first\noutburst of revelation threw him into great agitation; he thought he\nwas possessed by a jinn; and it tended to his further distress that\nan interval of two or three years elapsed before another vision took\nplace. Then the vision came again. \"Rise up and warn!\" it said to\nhim; \"and thy Lord magnify, and thy garments purify, and abomination\nshun, and grant not favours to gain increase; and wait for thy Lord.\"\nThe revelations now began to come in rapid succession, and Mahomet\nnow believed in his own inspiration. In this conviction he never\nwavered afterwards; and there can be no doubt that the earlier\nrevelations were felt by him as if they came from without and were\ndictated by a power he could not resist. His fellow-countrymen\nnaturally took another view; like other prophets, Mahomet was said to\nbe mad and to be possessed by a spirit; and these accusations stung\nhim, because he himself had at first apprehended something of the\nkind. The later pieces were of a different character; he had the\npower afterwards of producing a revelation to suit any situation\nwhich arose; but the contents of the earlier ones were not unworthy\nof being revelations, and such he felt them to be.\n\n[Footnote 3: Or, Preach!--loud reading or repetition being the mode\nof claiming attention for the divine word.]\n\nHis Preaching.--He preached the new truth at first to those with whom\nhe was intimate. It was not new but old; it was the religion of\nAbraham that he preached, that of the Book of which both Jews and\nChristians had counterparts; he did not think of founding a new\nreligion. He called his own household and his relatives to submit\nthemselves to Allah, the supreme Lord and the righteous Judge, before\nwhose judgment they must soon stand. They were to put away heathen\nvices and to practise the duty of regular prayer, of giving alms\nwithout hoping for any advantage from it, and of temperance. After a\ntime he is encouraged by new suras to preach publicly, and does so.\nThe Meccans, however, do not listen to him. The prophet's preaching\nacquires by this opposition a sternness it did not possess at first,\nand he proceeds to attack the popular worship in a way fitted to stir\nup against him the bitterest hostility. The Meccans hear from him\nthat the religion to which all Arabia flocks together, and without\nwhich they would do little trade, is not only a vanity but a thing\nabhorrent to Allah, and undoubtedly drawing down damnation on all who\npartake in it; and that their forefathers are unquestionably in hell.\nSuch preaching could not be tolerated; Mahomet's friends are appealed\nto to stop his mouth, but in vain, and his fellow-tribesmen, though\nthey do not believe in him, yet protect him, as the laws of kindred\nrequire.\n\nPersecution.--Mahomet suffers as other prophets have done; he is\nridiculed, misjudged, threatened. On the other hand he has his\nconsolations; when depressed he receives encouraging messages from\nabove. His enemies will perish; his cause will succeed; the day will\ncome when men will flock to his doctrine in crowds. Persecution,\nhowever, is not without effect on him: on one occasion he attempted\nto compromise matters with idolatry; in a sura recited at the Caaba\nhe allowed himself to use certain complimentary expressions about the\nthree daughters of Allah, in whom the Meccans put their trust. The\nMeccans were much pleased with this, but Mahomet had to suffer the\nreproaches of the angel Gabriel after he went home, and the\nconcession was erelong withdrawn. If, as appears likely, the\ncompromise had been deliberately planned, a strange light is thrown\non the nature of the revelations at a time not long after they had\nbegun to flow. But there is no approach to compromise after this. The\nposition of the prophet naturally grew worse after this display of\nweakness, and the persecution of the townsmen more embittered; for\ntwo years Mahomet and his followers were rigorously cut off from\nintercourse with their fellow-citizens. On the other hand the\nprophet's tone became harder and more sombre as he saw that no\nturning back was possible. Never were the terrors of hell preached\nwith more intensity; it makes one's blood run cold to read the\ndenunciations of the Mecca unbelievers, men personally known to the\nprophet, and to hear him forecast the words with which they will be\nbidden to take their place for ever in the fire. Personal irritation\ngives edge to the denunciations of fanaticism. Examples are sought in\nJewish history of those who rejected prophets, Moses or Noah, and\nsuffered a prompt and terrible judgment for so doing. The Meccans\nwere little moved by such threats; they had no real belief in a\nfuture life, and scoffed at the idea of a resurrection of the body;\nand for this scepticism also parallels are found by the prophet in\nhistory, which show what fate the doubters may expect.\n\nFrom reading the Koran we should judge Mahomet to have been a\ndisagreeable fanatic; but he also possessed very different qualities.\nThose who knew him best were most devoted to him. His followers\nadhered to him with a faith which was proof against all persecutions;\nwe find him even ordaining that slaves who are converts may dissemble\ntheir connection with him in order to avoid the cruel treatment it\ndrew down on them. Such attachment could only have been inspired by a\nnoble nature; his followers felt him to be indeed a teacher sent by\nAllah, and were enthusiastically convinced of the truth of his\ndoctrine.\n\nTrials. He decides to leave Mecca.--In spite of this his position was\na precarious and trying one. His wife Khadija, to whom he had been\nmost faithful, died; so did his most powerful protector. The cause,\nmoreover, was not advancing at Mecca, and was not likely to do so;\nand Mahomet began to consider the propriety of transferring it to new\nground. The first attempt to do so was not successful; at Taif, where\nhe asked to be received and to be allowed to preach, he was rudely\nrepulsed, so that he came back to Mecca in deep dejection. The new\nopening which he sought was, however, about to present itself in\nanother quarter. Among the visitors to one of the feasts he met a\ncompany of pilgrims from Medina, who both addressed him with respect\nand showed that they understood his doctrines. Medina was well\nacquainted with Jewish ideas, and presented a more favourable soil\nfor the prophet to work on; it is even suggested that the Arabs of\nMedina, having heard of the Jewish expectation of a Messiah,\nconsidered that it would be an advantage for them if the Messiah\nshould be of their own race, and that Mahomet might possibly be He.\nThe transference of the cause to Medina was, however, brought about\nwith great deliberation. Those who wished Mahomet to come preached\nhis doctrine at Medina for a year, and with encouraging success.\nPledges were given and repeated by his friends there, that they would\nhave no god but Allah, that they would withhold their hands from what\nwas not their own, that they would flee fornication, that they would\nnot kill new-born infants, that they would shun slander, and that\nthey would obey God's messenger as far as was reasonable:--these are\nthe practical reforms which Islam at this time demanded. The result\nof these proceedings was that Mahomet advised his followers to go to\nMedina. He himself waited till nearly all had gone, and did not set\nout till a plot had been laid by his enemies the Coreish to\nassassinate him. The Hegira or flight took place on 16th June 622\nA.D. The flight, not the birth of the prophet, forms the era of\nMohammedan chronology, since it was from the moment of the flight\nthat Islam entered on its victorious career.\n\nMahomet at Medina.--From this point onwards the prophet is seen in a\ndifferent position and a different character. At Mecca he is a\npersecuted, struggling, and unsuccessful preacher, but at Medina he\nrapidly becomes the most powerful person in the commonwealth. He\norganises the service of religion, but he also gives new life to the\ncommunity in other ways, terminating its feuds, uniting all its\nforces in the service of Allah, and by his decisions in the cases\nwhich are brought to him laying the foundation of a new\njurisprudence. A pure theocracy was set up at Medina, and he as the\nprophet was its sole organ and administrator. In this capacity he\ndisplayed consummate ability. Alike in religious and in civil matters\nhe showed the most perfect comprehension of his countrymen. He\nresorted freely to compromise in order to make his religion and\npolicy suitable to the masses of his people and to secure their\nadhesion. In this way he soon secured for himself an absolute\nauthority.\n\nThe new religion thus became the cement by which a strong\ncommonwealth was formed out of elements formerly at variance.\nMahomet's first care on reaching Medina was to organise the service\nof the faith. A place was built where the congregation could meet for\nprayer and exhortation; the prophet's house beside it, or rather the\napartments of his wives, for he now had two, and was soon to have\nmore. The mosque, which all over the world is the local habitation of\nIslam, may have been derived from the synagogue or the Christian\nchurch. The service which takes place in it is not a sacrifice, but\nconsists of intellectual exercises which nourish in the hearers the\nspirit of the religion. In the Mosque of Medina Mahomet taught his\nconverts the practices and duties which were required of them. He\ntaught this with great precision, and himself set an example how each\nexercise was to be done; so that, as Wellhausen says, the mosque\nbecame the exercise ground where the people were drilled in the\nrequirements of the new faith. \"There the Moslems acquired the\n_esprit de corps_ and the rigid discipline which distinguish their\narmies.\"\n\nNew Religious Union.--A new bond of union thus took the place of the\nold tie of blood, which had been by far the strongest in Arabia.\nEvery Moslem regarded every other Moslem as his brother, even though\nbelonging to a different tribe. The claims of religion came to\nsupersede all others; all natural tastes, all family affections, were\ntaught to yield to them. Within a few years of his coming to Medina\nMahomet had forbidden the use of wine and the pursuit of art, and had\nimposed on all women who adhered to him the use of the veil. In every\nway the community was taught to regard itself as separated from the\nformer life of the country and from all who did not share the new\nfaith. It was represented as the duty of believers to fight against\nall unbelievers: in this way the universal prevalence of the religion\nwas to be brought about. The courage of the faithful was stimulated\nby the promise of rich booty and by the assurance that those who fell\nin battle would go straight to the joys of Paradise; and the wars\nthey waged acquired in consequence a relentless character which was\nnew in Arabia. They were allowed to fight in the sacred month, in\nwhich ancient custom ordained a universal truce. They fought with a\ngloomy determination, and used their victories with a relentless\ncruelty, which excited the consternation and horror of all witnesses.\nThey did not scruple, as other Arabs did, to fight against their\nkinsmen. \"Islam has rent all bonds asunder, Islam has blotted out all\ntreaties,\" they said, when reproached with their disregard of old\nunderstandings. The prophet himself was foremost in this unrelenting\npolicy. Captives taken in battle were slaughtered; a whole tribe was\nmassacred which had joined the enemy, and had surrendered after a\nsiege in the hope of merciful treatment.\n\nBreach with Judaism and Christianity.--As Mahomet thus freed himself,\nin spreading the faith of \"the most merciful God,\" from all\nconsiderations of mercy and of honour, he also shook off, as his\nposition grew strong, relations which might have proved embarrassing\nwith other religions. In his earlier teaching he speaks of his own\nreligion as being substantially the same as Judaism and Christianity.\nAll three have \"the Book\"; the Koran is a continuation and supplement\nof the Jewish and Christian revelations, and he is only the last\nfigure in the great line of prophets who had appeared in these\nreligions. Like other founders, he did not at first intend to found a\nnew religion, but only to bring to light again and restore to\nauthority the original truths of these faiths, which had become\nobscured. His attitude at first, therefore, was friendly to both Jews\nand Christians, and his friendly feelings for the former were likely\nto be strengthened by the circumstances of his coming to Medina. Not\nlong after his arrival, however, his attitude towards the Jews was\nchanged. His followers had at first prayed with their faces turned in\nthe direction of Jerusalem; but the prophet ordained that this should\nbe altered, and that they should pray with their faces turned not\ntowards Jerusalem but towards Mecca. This setting of a new \"kiblah\"\nas it is called, declared that Islam was a different religion from\nJudaism, and had an Arab not a Jewish centre. The hostility to the\nJews, of which this was a symptom, grew more intense; quarrels were\nsought with them which ended in the utter annihilation of the Jewish\npower at Medina. From Christianity also Mahomet was careful to\ndistinguish his religion. The Christians of Arabia were less\ntenacious of their faith than were the Jews, and easily accepted\nIslam, so that the hostility was not in this case so intense. The\ndoctrines of the Trinity and of the Incarnation were of course\ndenounced as intolerable blasphemies against the sole deity of Allah.\n\nDomestic.--The history of Mahomet during the Medina period is taken\nup to some extent with the various marriages into which he entered,\nand with the scandals of his household. On several occasions he\nproduced revelations to warrant a step in this connection which he\nfelt to require justification, and the modern reader is forced to\nwonder how his credit survived some of those proceedings. While it is\nundoubtedly the case that he did much to improve the position of\nwomen in Arabia, the absence of any high ideal in this matter is very\napparent.\n\nConquest of Mecca.--In giving his followers a new kiblah and bidding\nthem turn their faces towards Mecca at their prayers, Mahomet\ndeclared that city to be the religious capital of Arabia. Though he\nhad left Mecca in anger, he could not forget or ignore the city which\nheld this place in his eyes. At first his thoughts of Mecca were\nthose of vengeance; he had a score to settle with the Coreish, who\nhad scorned and persecuted him, and had driven him forth. For several\nyears there was war between Medina and the Coreish; the Moslems\nplundered the rich caravans of Mecca; in the great battle of Bedr\n(A.D. 623) Mahomet defeated his enemies and compelled them to respect\nand fear him; and they afterwards attacked and besieged him at\nMedina, with no decisive result. The next step was that Mahomet made\nuse of the sacred month to attempt a pilgrimage to Mecca, from which\nhe had been absent for six years (628); and though he was prevented\nfrom performing his devotions at the Caaba on this occasion, the\nCoreish found it good to make a treaty with him, thus recognising him\nas a potentate, and to promise that he should be allowed to make the\npilgrimage on a future occasion. That pilgrimage took place; and so\nquickly was Mahomet's power increasing in the rest of Arabia that the\nMeccans began to feel that they could not long resist him. In the\nyear 630 he moved against Mecca with a large army, and met with but\nfaint opposition. Mecca fell into his hands. He used his victory\nnobly: only four persons were put to death. It was at once shown that\nno injury was to be done to the city. The old worship and its various\nceremonies were preserved. All idols, of course, were destroyed, both\nthose about the Caaba, of which there are said to have been one for\neach day in the year, and those in private houses.\n\nMecca made the Capital of Islam.--In fact Mecca gained new importance\nfrom this conquest. It was constituted by the irresistible power of\nMahomet the central sanctuary of the true religion. A year after the\nvictory Mahomet again visited Mecca, and performed the pilgrimage\nwith all its rites in his own person, setting the correct pattern in\nevery detail, which all pilgrims were to observe in all time coming.\nThose who wish to know what the rites of Mecca are, will find them\ngraphically and minutely described in Captain Burton's _Pilgrimage to\nEl-Medinah and Mecca_; that gallant officer was one of the three\nEuropeans who, during the nineteenth century, assumed the disguise of\npilgrims and took part in the observances. The kissing of the sacred\nblack stone in the wall of the Caaba, the sevenfold circuit of the\nbuilding, the drinking of the water of the well Zem-zem, the race\nfrom one hill-top to another in the neighbourhood of Mecca, the\nthrowing of seven stones at a certain spot, and the sacrifice of an\nanimal in a certain valley--these form a collection of rites each of\nwhich had probably a separate origin, and of some of which the\noriginal meaning can scarcely be made out.[4] This \"block of\nheathenism\" Mahomet made part of his religion. He could not have\nabolished it, and by adopting it in an improved form as a part of his\nown system he served himself heir to the national religious\ntraditions, and acquired for his own religion the authority of a\nnational faith. \"This day have I appointed your religion unto you,\"\nare his words after fixing the forms of the pilgrimage, \"and applied\nIslam for you to be your religion.\" Islam adopts the Mecca rites, and\nthereby becomes the national religion of Arabia. Hubal, the chief god\nof the Caaba, disappears; Allah becomes the sole god of the shrine.\nThe legend that Abraham founded it is put in circulation, and it is\nthus connected with the supposed earliest Arabian religion, the\nreligion before idolatry, the Islam before Islam. As Paul appeals to\nthe faith of Abraham as being a Christianity before Christ, so\nMahomet claims the Caaba for the pure worship of Allah in primeval\ntimes. It is sacred henceforth to him alone. The rule was set up that\nno idolater should be admitted to the pilgrimage, and it thus lost\nits character as a heathen, and became instead a Moslem, institution.\n\n[Footnote 4: See for this Wellhausen's _Reste arabischen\nHeidenthums_, pp. 64-98.]\n\nSpread of Islam.--Mecca once converted, the rest of Arabia could not\nlong remain outside. There was reluctance in various places to make\nthe change which Mahomet now required of all his countrymen. But the\npenalty of refusing it was the prophet's wrath, with its terrible\nattendants, war and rapine, and none of the Arabs cared enough for\ntheir old gods to brave such terrors for their sake. The inhabitants\nof Taif endeavoured to make terms, so that the change might be less\nabrupt. Their ambassadors urged that fornication, usury, and the use\nof wine might be allowed them, but this could not be granted; the\nTaifites must accept the deprivations to which all the Moslems had\nagreed. Then they asked that their Rabba, their goddess, might be\nspared to them for three years, and as this was refused, for two\nyears, a year, a month. But the only concession they could obtain was\nthat they should not be obliged to destroy their goddess with their\nown hands. The ancient paganism, it will be seen, fell easily and\nwithout any tragedy.\n\nMahomet did not long survive the national acceptance of his religion;\nhe died on 8th June 632. But he did not die without having opened up\nto his followers very wide views for the future of his cause, and\nstarted them on a career of religious war and conquest which was not\nsoon to be arrested. From a comparatively early period of his career\nhe had considered that Islam was destined to prevail not only in\nArabia but in other lands. Starting with the idea that his revelation\nwas only a later stage of that which had taken place in Judaism and\nChristianity, he had advanced to the position that these were false\nreligions, and his own the only true one. Wherever he looked in the\nworld he could see no true religion but his own; it must therefore\ntake the place of all others. Accordingly he sent embassies from\nMedina to Heraclius the emperor of the East, to the king of Persia,\nto the governor of Egypt, and to other potentates, announcing himself\nto be the \"Prophet of God,\" and calling upon them to give up their\nidolatrous worships and return to the religion of the one true God.\nThese embassies had small effect; but Mahomet was prepared to take\nmuch more forcible measures in order to spread the faith. War against\ninfidels being one of the standing duties of the faithful, various\nregulations were laid down for the treatment of captives and the\ndisposal of booty in such wars. God, who is said in every verse to be\nforgiving and merciful, encourages the faithful in such passages to\nslay and rob, and to make concubines of women taken in sacred wars.\nAt the moment of his death an expedition, not the first, was ready to\nstart against the Greek power. It is in this guise that Islam assumes\nthe _role_ of a universal religion.\n\nThe Duties of the Moslem.--The missionary of Islam requires of his\nconverts nothing very difficult either in the way of belief or in the\nway of action. His demands are brief and precise. They consist of the\nfollowing five points:--1. The profession of belief in the unity of\nGod and the mission of Mahomet. The formula runs: \"There is no God\nbut Allah, and Mahomet is the prophet of Allah.\" 2. Prayer. This\nconsists of the repetition of a certain form of words at five\nseparate times each day, the worshipper standing up with his face\ntowards Mecca. The mosques are always open for prayer, and there is a\nspecial service on Friday, the day of the week chosen by Mahomet in\ncontradistinction to the Jewish Sabbath and the Christian Sunday. 3.\nAlmsgiving. This is done on a fixed scale, and the contributions\nwere, in Mahomet's time, devoted to the support of war against\ninfidels. 4. Fasting. This takes place during the month of Ramadan,\nand the fast is very strictly observed. 5. The Hagg or pilgrimage to\nMecca.\n\nThe Koran is the sacred book of Islam. The name means \"reading\"; see\nabove in this chapter. Like other sacred books, the Koran is arranged\nin such an order that he who reads it as it stands finds it very\nconfused, and fails to grasp its historical meaning. The claim to\ndivine inspiration is made in every chapter and every line of it; God\nhimself is the speaker. But the divine oracles refer to very various\nmatters. All sorts of legal decisions, military orders, injunctions\nabout religious affairs, legends and speculations, have a place in\nit. Of prediction of the future, indeed, there is but one instance;\nthe prophet disclaimed the power to work miracles, and held that no\nwonders beyond those of the splendid order of the universe are\nnecessary to faith; and similarly he does not pose as a foreteller,\nbut as an organ of the divine will for the present. As the ruler of a\ntheocracy, the leader of armies, the judge in many a civil case, the\nguardian of the manners of the people, the officiating minister in\npublic worship, and, let it also be mentioned, the head of a very\npeculiar domestic establishment, he has a hundred matters of\nimmediate concern to attend to; and when he has formed his decision\non any of these matters, it takes its place in the Koran. The book\nthus produced is far from being an attractive one; even in the\ntranslation of Professor Palmer[5] it can afford pleasure to no\nreader. The translation, it is true, loses the poetry and music of\nthe original, which are highly spoken of; but the main obstacle to\nreading the Koran is its want of arrangement. The earliest suras\n(chapters; literally courses of bricks) stand mostly towards the end\nof the collection; the long ones in the beginning and middle are\nlater, and many of them are composite: two or several chapters have\nbeen joined into one. When read in their historical order, the suras\ncan be read with pleasure by the student as showing the growth of the\nprophet's ideas and of his cause. The earliest ones are short,\npoetical, and intense. These are the suras which threw the prophet\ninto such excitement and distress that his hair turned white. They\nare full of the wonders of God in nature and in history, of fiery\ndenunciation of idolatry, and of fearful threatenings. In later\npieces we come to long legends taken chiefly from the Jewish Haggadah\nand the Christian Apocrypha, in which the prophet displays much\nignorance of the commonest facts of the Bible history; and as his\npower increases and his functions multiply, we come to the\nmiscellaneous matters spoken of above. The style, at first poetic and\nexalted, becomes afterwards prosaic and diffuse; it is not the\ninspired seer who speaks, but the statesman or the judge; and the\nplacing of these later utterances in the mouth of God could not\ndeceive the original hearers. The Koran, like the Vedas and the\nGathas and the Jewish Scriptures, was exalted in later stages of the\nreligion to the highest conceivable honours; and one of the greatest\ncontroversies of Islam raged round the question whether it had\nexisted from eternity and was uncreated.\n\n[Footnote 5: _Sacred Books of the East_, vols. vi. and xi.]\n\nIslam a Universal Religion.--What is most remarkable about Islam is\nthe rapidity of its growth. Mahomet begins life a poor and lowly\nherdsman, and at his death bequeaths to his successors a kingdom\nwhich he has formed, and which is shortly to prevail over all its\nneighbours. In the same way his doctrine, confined at first to a\nsmall circle and bitterly opposed, becomes within half a century the\nfaith of his nation, and not only of his nation, but of many other\nlands. Within that brief space it has entered on the career of a\nnational religion, and has also passed beyond the national into the\nuniversal stage, at which only two other religions have arrived at\nall. The progress which Christianity took centuries to accomplish,\nIslam accomplished in so many decades. The title of a universal\nreligion cannot be denied to it. The truth which it declared--the\ndoctrine of the unity and the omnipotence of God, and of the\nresponsibility of every human being to his Creator and Judge--is one\nwhich does not belong to any particular race of men, but to all men.\nThe attitude of soul which is called Islam--that of implicit\nsurrender to the great God, of entire acquiescence in his decrees and\nentire obedience to his will--is good for all. All should be called\nto take an earnest view of their life and to realise their deep\nresponsibilities; and the idea expressed by the title given to God on\nevery page of the Koran, \"The Merciful and Compassionate,\" that God\nsympathises with the aspirations and efforts of his servants, and\nthat they may look up to him with love as well as fear, is one which\nall can understand and feel helpful. Especially at the stage when the\nworld is given up to idolatry, Islam may well rank as a universal\nreligion; when each place has its idol, each nation its greater\nidols, religion divides instead of uniting, and the frivolous and\nsenseless service of such petty deities prevents men from realising\ntheir solemn obligations to the great God before whom they are all\nalike, since he is the Governor and Judge of all. Islam is an\nadmirable corrective of heathenism; it brings the scattered and\nbewildered worshippers of idols together in one lofty faith and one\nsimple rule.\n\nThe weakness of Islam is that it is not progressive. Its ideas are\nbald and poor; it grew too fast; its doctrines and forms were\nstereotyped at the very outset of its career, and do not admit of\nchange. Its morality is that of the stage at which men emerge from\nidolatry, and does not advance beyond that stage, so that it\nperpetuates institutions and customs which are a drag on\ncivilisation. Mahomet's Paradise, in which the warrior is to be\nministered to by beauteous houris (the number of whom is not\nmentioned), may not have been an immoral conception in his day; but\nit is so now, and apparently cannot be left behind. An admirable\ninstrument for the discipline of populations at a low stage of\nculture, and well fitted to teach them a certain measure of\nself-restraint and piety, Islam cannot carry them on to the higher\ndevelopment of human life and thought. It is repressive of freedom,\nand the reason is that its doctrine is after all no more than\nnegative. Allah is but a negation of other gods; there is no store of\npositive riches in his character, he does not sympathise with the\nmanifold growth of human activity; the inspiration he affords is a\nnegative inspiration, an impulse of hostility to what is over against\nhim, not an impulse to strive after high and fair ideals. He remains\neternally apart upon a frosty throne; his voice is heard, but he\ncannot condescend. He does not enter into humanity, and therefore\ncannot render to humanity the highest services.\n\n\nBOOKS RECOMMENDED\n\n_The Life of Mahomet_, by Sir W. Muir, 1858.\n\n_Mohammed_, by Wellhausen, and \"The Koran,\" by Noeldeke, in\n_Encyclopaedia Britannica_, vol. xvi.\n\nThe Preliminary Discourse prefixed to Sale's _Koran_; and Professor\nPalmer's Introduction in _S. B. E._, vol. vi.\n\n_Islam_, by J. W. H. Stobart, in the \"Non-Christian Religious\nSystems\" Series of the S.P.C.K.\n\n_Der Islam_, by Houtsma, in De la Saussaye.\n\nHughes, _A Dictionary of Islam_ (1885, 1896).\n\nSell, _The Faith of Islam_, Second Edition, 1896.\n\nStanley Lane-Poole, _The Speeches and Table-talk of Mohammad_, 1882;\nthe most important parts of the Koran, chronologically arranged, with\na very useful introduction.\n\nMargoliouth. _Mohammed and the Rise of Islam_, 1905.\n\n\n\n\nPART IV\nTHE ARYAN GROUP\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XIV\nTHE ARYAN RELIGION\n\n\nThe science of language has placed it beyond dispute that the\nlanguages of the leading European peoples are genealogically related\nto each other, and that the languages of India and of Persia also\nbelong to the same family of speech. The Indo-European languages,\nthose, namely, of the higher race in India, and of the Persians, and\nthose of the Greeks, Italians, Celts, Germans, Slavs, Letts, and\nAlbanians, approach each other always more nearly as they are traced\nupwards. Sanscrit is not the source of these tongues but an older\nsister of the group; the mother language, which the facts prove to\nhave at one time existed, was a highly-inflected speech, and is\nperhaps more nearly represented by Lettic than by Sanscrit; but it\ncan now be known only by a study of the common features of its\nsurviving children.\n\nThe fact that the peoples named above are related to each other in\npoint of language led at once, when it was discovered, to the\nconclusion that they were also of the same race, and must have come\noriginally from the same quarter of the world. Where, then, was the\nearly home of the undivided Aryan[1] race, from which the swarms\nfirst issued which were to conquer and rule the various lands? At\nfirst it was found in the East; the fact that Indian civilisation was\nmuch earlier in time than that of any other Aryan people, naturally\nsuggested this. Professor Max Mueller described in a very poetical way\nhow the European as well as the Indian must find in the East the\ncradle of his race. From the high tableland of Asia, it was held, the\nsuperior races came who were to rule nearly the whole of Europe,\nwhile another migration descended towards Persia and the plains of\nIndia.\n\n[Footnote 1: \"Aryan\" was the name of the conquering race of India.\nThe title \"Indo-European\" tells us that the race now dwells in India\nand in Europe. \"Indo-Germanic\" describes the group by its Eastern,\nand what is supposed to be its principal Western, member.]\n\nThe theory, however, which placed the home of the Aryans on the\ninhospitable steppes, the \"high Pamere,\" of Asia, did not long\ncommand assent; and attempts were made to place that home elsewhere,\nin the valley of the Danube, on the south shores of the Baltic, or\neven in the Scandinavian peninsula. The conquest, it is argued,\ncannot have come from the East; it is much more probable that Aryan\nspeech and custom originated in the West, where it has the larger\nnumber of representatives, and that it spread eastward. The more\nextreme step has also been taken of denying that the Aryans are\nrelated to each other at all in point of race. Unity of language, it\nis argued, is no proof of unity of race--a glance over the British\nEmpire or even the British Islands is enough to show this. It is\nmaintained, therefore, that the relationship of the Aryan peoples is\nnot one of race but only of language and of culture; the word Aryan\ndenotes no more than a certain type of speech, and of accompanying\ncivilisation, which spread over all the peoples in question at a very\nearly time. Aryan language and civilisation laid hold of a number of\nraces not otherwise related to each other.\n\nThe view, however, still prevails that the various lands where Aryan\nspeech and culture prevail were settled from one centre. When society\nwas in the nomadic stage, it may naturally be presumed that a\nsuperior civilisation which had established itself in any one quarter\nof the world would be carried by wandering hordes in various\ndirections, and that the bearers of the new civilisation would become\nthe conquerors and masters of the countries to which their wanderings\nled them. And there is now some agreement on the part of leading\nauthorities as to the quarter of the world from which the migrations\nof the Aryans proceeded. In the Southern Steppes of Russia, in the\ngreat plains north of the Black Sea, the Caspian, and the Sea of\nAral, there dwelt, we are told, in times far before the dawn of\nhistory, hordes rather than tribes of men, who, though they had\noriginally spoken the same language, were coming to differ from each\nother in speech and culture. These hordes were peoples in the process\nof formation. It was natural to them to wander, and as each wandered\nfarther from the centre, it came to differ more markedly from the\ncommon type. Some of these went southwards and eastwards to Persia\nand India; others went westward, to conquer and possess the countries\nof Europe.[2]\n\n[Footnote 2: _Prehistoric Antiquities of the Aryan Peoples_; Schrader\nand Jevons (Griffin, 1890). This is the English of Schrader's\n_Sprachvergleichung und Urgeschichte_. Compare Dr. E. Meyer's\n_History of Antiquity_, vol. i. book vi. Dr. Isaac Taylor's _Origin\nof the Aryans_ gives a compendious account of the question,\nconcluding against the unity of the Aryans in point of race.]\n\nThe Aryan question lies at the threshold of the history of each of\nthe Aryan peoples, and has to be met in the study of each of the\nreligions. It must be confessed that the world now knows less on this\npoint than it thought it did a generation ago. The difference between\nthe Semitic and the Aryan spirit is real and substantial, as will\nappear from the study of the Aryan religions, but it is more\nimportant as well as more possible to know these well in their\nindividual character than to have a correct theory of their\nhistorical relation to each other. The student ought, however, to be\ninformed as to the course of a deeply interesting enquiry.\n\nThe civilisation of the Aryans was primitive enough. The following is\nfrom Dr. Taylor:--\n\n  The undivided Aryans were a pastoral people, who wandered with\n  their herds as the Hebrew patriarchs wandered in Canaan. Dogs,\n  cattle, and sheep had been domesticated, but not the pig, the\n  horse, the goat, or the ass; and domestic poultry were unknown. The\n  fibres of certain plants were plaited into mats, but wool was not\n  woven, and the skins of beasts were scraped with stone knives, and\n  sewed together into garments with sinews by the aid of needles of\n  bone, wood, or stone.\n\n  Their food consisted of flesh and milk, which was not yet made into\n  cheese or butter. Mead, prepared from the honey of wild bees, was\n  the only intoxicating drink, both beer and wine being unknown. Salt\n  was unknown to the Asiatic branch of the Aryans, but its use had\n  spread rapidly among the European branches of the race. In winter\n  they lived in pits dug in the earth and roofed over with poles\n  covered with turf, or plastered with cow dung. In summer they lived\n  in rude waggons or in huts made of the branches of trees. Of\n  metals, native copper may have been beaten into ornaments, but\n  tools and weapons were mostly of stone. Bows were made of the wood\n  of the yew, ... trees were hollowed out for canoes by stone axes,\n  aided by the use of fire.\n\n  According to Hehn, the old or sick were killed, wives were obtained\n  by purchase or capture, infants were exposed or killed. After a\n  time, with tillage, came the possession of property, and\n  established custom grew slowly into law. Their religious ideas were\n  based on magic and superstitious terrors, the powers of nature had\n  as yet assumed no anthropomorphic forms, the great name of Dyaus,\n  which afterwards came to mean God, signified only the bright sky.\n  They counted on their fingers, but they had not attained to the\n  idea of any number higher than one hundred.[3]\n\n[Footnote 3: _Origin of the Aryans_, p. 188.]\n\nThese sketches of the early Aryan certainly attest more vigour than\nrefinement; and it takes some effort to realise that those who lived\nin this way had already made much progress, and that these early arts\nand institutions were full of promise. Savage as the early Aryan is,\nhe is better than his neighbours, and has made a good start in the\nway of civilisation. His family arrangements, especially, are fitted\nto survive and to develop. The early domestic architecture of the\nAryan countries, while it belongs to a much later period, yet gives\ngood evidence that the patriarchal ideal of the family was part of\nthe common inheritance. In every country they conquered the Aryans\nlived in large patriarchal households. The sons, with their wives and\nchildren, remained under their father's roof, the father being judge\nand priest of this domestic community. We can specify other features\nof the society connected with this type of household. As the family\nincreases and becomes too large to dwell under one roof, another\nhouse is built, in which son or grandson, with his wife, founds a new\nfamily. Thus a group of families arises, all related to each other by\nblood, and in a position of equality, but looking to the original\nhouse as their centre. This type of society must have been carried to\nIndia by the Aryan invaders, who there set up patriarchal\nestablishments in houses which are similar in arrangement to those of\nNorth Holland, of Iceland, or of early England. The men who lived in\nthis way were not agriculturists, they were shepherds and huntsmen,\nand when they settled in a district they were wont to force the\nformer dwellers in it to till the land for them as their\ninferiors.[4]\n\n[Footnote 4: See two recent works by Mr. G. L. Gomme, _The Village\nCommunity_ and _Ethnology in Folklore_; also Hearn's _Aryan\nHousehold_.]\n\nIt is this type of civilisation which overspread the lands in early\ntimes, and by its coming created in most instances a new world. Some\nof the Aryan peoples made more rapid progress than others. They\npassed early into the age of metals, and appear before us at the dawn\nof history with fully-formed institutions, which bear the impress of\npatriarchal ideas. Others remained longer in the stone age, and only\nin historic times received the impulse which caused them to advance\nto the rank of nations. The arts and inventions which are found in\nmany or in all of them are not necessarily a common inheritance from\nthe undivided Aryan age. Many of them may have come into being in\neach of the lands independently, or one Aryan people may have\nborrowed them from another at a later time. Starting from the common\nstock of civilisation, the various races worked it out each in a way\nof its own, and often, as we shall see, with wonderful similarities.\n\nIs it possible to give any description of the religion the Aryans had\nin common before they developed it in different ways in their various\nlands? We can no longer, following Mr. Max Mueller, look to India to\ntell us what was the common Aryan religion. Indian religion, when we\nfirst become acquainted with it, has already grown into an elaborate\npriestly system, and is evidently at a much later stage of Aryan\ndevelopment than the rustic cults, with which we have a good deal of\nacquaintance, in various European lands. If, however, we cannot\nfollow the great German scholar in this, we gladly use his words on\nanother aspect of the subject, when he is showing the etymological\nidentity of the chief god of the Aryan peoples.\n\nIn his _Lectures on the Science of Language_, vol. ii. p. 468, he\ntells us that \"Zeus, the most sacred name in Greek mythology, is the\nsame word as Dyaus in Sanscrit, Jovis or Ju in Jupiter in Latin, Tiw\nin Anglo-Saxon, preserved in Tiwsdaeg, Tuesday, the day of the Eddic\ngod Tyr; Zio in old High-German.\n\n\"This word was framed,\" he says, \"once and once only; it was not\nborrowed by the Greeks from the Hindus, nor by the Romans and Germans\nfrom the Greeks. It must have existed before the ancestors of those\nprimeval races became separate in language and religion; before they\nleft their common pastures to migrate to the right hand and to the\nleft.... Here, then, in this venerable word, we may look for some of\nthe earliest religious thoughts of our race.\"[5]\n\n[Footnote 5: See also Mr. Mueller's _Hibbert Lectures_, and his\n_Biographies of Words_.]\n\nIn this instance etymology admittedly points out one of the principal\nfeatures of the common Aryan religions. But if we hope that etymology\nwill reveal to us many further instances of the same kind, and\nintroduce us to the whole Pantheon of the Aryans, we shall be\ndisappointed. There are one or two more cases of etymological\nagreement between the gods of India and those of Europe,[6] but the\nagreement is in some of these cases no more than etymological. The\nTiw or Tyr of the Teutonic mythology does not correspond in office or\ncharacter with Zeus or Jupiter, though the names are etymologically\nakin. The agreement does not extend to all the religions in question,\nnor does it extend in any two religions to all their gods; most of\nthe gods of Europe have no parallels in India. The evidence of\netymology, therefore, tells us but little of that early religion of\nwhich we are in search. But if we consider the views and habits of\nthe barbarous shepherd-huntsman, who is now seen to be the typical\nfigure of common Aryanism, we need not seek long before we find\nsomething that was common to all the Aryan faiths. The patriarchal\nhousehold has a religion which belongs to itself, and which is the\nworking bond of union of its members. The hearth is its altar,\nbecause the forefathers of the house lie buried under it, or for\nanother reason. These forefathers certainly are its gods. This\nhearth-cult has for its priest the father of the family; he in his\nturn will be gathered to his fathers if he has a legitimate son to do\nthe last rites for him. No one but members of the family can partake\nin the domestic worship, all unconnected with the family by blood\nmust be kept at a distance from these rites. This is not a religion\nin which the individual counts anything for his own sake, any more\nthan totemistic religion is; in both it is the community alone that\nserves the deity, in the one case, those acknowledging the same\ntotem, in the second, those united by blood in the same family. In\ntotemism the individual sacrifices himself to the tribe; here he is\nnothing apart from his family. Aryan piety is family religion pure\nand simple. It fosters sentiments which have been the strength of\nAryan society in all lands. It makes family life a sacred thing,\nlends to all domestic ties the highest sanction, and causes the mere\nmention of \"hearth and home\" to be the strongest incentive to valour\nand self-denial. Even in the wild-beast ferocity with which early\nmen defend their homes against the intrusion of strangers, the\ngerms of lofty domestic and patriotic virtues may be seen. Thus\nancestor-worship, which is a part of the very beginnings of human\nreligion, is a more effective force among the Aryans than anywhere\nelse. In Egypt and China that worship is a highly artificial thing,\nand has lost much of its original force. In Egypt it is the fortunes\nof the dead that are most thought of; in China the cult has been\nsmoothed down and deprived, according to the character of the people,\nof its intenser motives. Among the Aryans it combines actively with\nstrong family feeling, causing them to cling with an extreme tenacity\nto their own gods and their own worship.[7]\n\n[Footnote 6: The principal are the following:--\n\n  1. Dyaus, god of the sky, see above.\n\n  2. Sans. Ushas, goddess of dawn; Gr. [Greek: heos]; Lat. aurora;\n  Lith. auszra; A.-S. eostra.\n\n  3. Sans. Agni, fire, god of fire; Lat. ignis; Lith. ugnis; O.-S.\n  ogni.\n\n  4. Sans. Surya, sun; Lat. sol; Gr. [Greek: helios], also [Greek:\n  Seirios]; Cymr. seul.\n\n  5. Sans. Mas, moon; Gr. [Greek: mene]; Lat. mena; Lith. menu.\n\n  Mars=Maruts, Manu=Minos=Mannus, Varuna=Ouranos, and other equations\n  formerly brought forward, are not now relied on by etymologists.]\n\n[Footnote 7: The comparative absence of ancestor-worship among the\nGreeks leads Dr. Schrader to doubt whether their religion is Aryan.\nThe Semites and the Greeks occupy the same position in this respect\n(see chapter x., chapter xvi.).]\n\nBut those of whom we are speaking worshipped other gods besides those\nof the household. The second great characteristic of Aryan religion\nis its adoration of gods who are neither local nor tribal, but\nuniversal. Dyaus, the sky, the heaven-god, can be worshipped\nanywhere; so can the earth, so can the heavenly twins, who were\nobjects of early Aryan religion, so can the sun and moon. Not that\nthe Aryans always remembered that these beings were not local or\ntribal. The god of heaven could be the god of a particular place too,\nhaving a special name there; or he could be appropriated by a tribe\nwho gave him a title as their own particular patron. Each family\ncould have its own heaven-god as well as its own hearth-god. Nor are\nwe to think that when they worshipped beings who could be found in\nevery place, the Aryans overlooked the sacred places, and the sacred\nobjects worshipped formerly. They had themselves risen out of\nsavagery, and still held many of the ideas of savages. Though they\nhad a few great gods they could still believe in a large number of\nsmaller ones. The tree, the stream, still had its spirit for them,\nthe cave or the dark fissure its bad demon. And many a piece of magic\ndid they practise, such as the rain-charm which would cause even the\nhighest god to send what was needed. The world was well peopled with\ngods, and to keep on good terms with them all was, no doubt, a matter\nthat required much attention and skill.\n\nOther features which have been stated to be characteristic of Aryan\nreligion are its non-priestly character, and the fact that its gods\nare generally arranged in a monarchical pantheon. But neither of\nthese constitutes a specific difference of the kind we are in search\nof. All primitive religions are non-priestly; a religion becomes\npriestly at a certain stage of its growth, when it is organised\nseparately from the state. The monarchical pantheon, too, such as\nthat of Homer and of the Eddas, is an indication, not of the genius\nof a religion, but of its having reached the systematising stage, and\nof the political ideas according to which the system is drawn up. The\nAryan religions, it is true, arrange their gods when the time comes\nto do so, after the pattern of an Aryan patriarchal establishment,\nthe father at the head, his sons and daughters near him, the servants\nin attendance, the unorganised host of spirits, nymphs and elves,\noutside. But to know the original character of the religion it is\nless important to ask how the pantheon is arranged, than what gods\nare worshipped, and how they are related to man. And the point which\nstands out clearly is that while Semitic religion is purely tribal\nand local, there is an element in Aryan religion which naturally\ntranscends these limits. On Semitic ground the body with whom the god\ntransacts is the tribe, the link is that of blood which connects all\nthe members of the tribe with their divine head or ancestor. In Aryan\nreligion also blood counts for much. The family altar is the seat of\nworship, and he who has been cast out of his own family cannot\nworship anywhere. The family gods are most thought of, no doubt, and\nexercise immense power in the ways we have mentioned. But the worship\nof which blood is the tie is not to the Aryan, as to the Semite, the\nwhole of religion. There are beings aloft as well as beings on the\nearth and under the earth, and the worship of these beings is wider\nthan the family. The family may address Heaven by a special private\nname, or at a particular spot, but Heaven itself was above all these\ntitles and places. The spirits of the household made, as all the\nSemitic gods do, for separation, but the gods above made for union,\nand as any community grew, the upper gods, who were worshipped by all\nits members alike, became more lofty and more important. Thus we may\nagree with Mr. Gomme when he speaks (_Ethnology of Folklore_, p. 68)\nof the emancipation of the Aryans from the principle of local\nworship, and says that the rise of the conception of gods who could\nand did accompany the tribes wheresoever they travelled, was \"the\ngreatest triumph of the Aryan race.\"\n\nFarther than this it may be dangerous to go in a field so full of\nuncertainty. In all Aryan worships there are sacrifices of various\nkinds and degrees of importance. The horse sacrifice appears in\nseveral of the nations as one of distinction, but human sacrifice was\nmost important of all, though in each of the Aryan lands commutations\nare made for it at a very early stage. The strife of Aryan with\nnon-Aryan religions gave rise to many superstitions; after the\nconquest the gods of the latter often became the bad gods or demons\nof the former, the ministers of the defeated cult were regarded as\nsorcerers or witches, the dethroned gods made many an attempt to come\nback to their seats, and to revive disused practices. But a religion\nbased, as we have seen the Aryan to be, in the family affections is\ndestined to rise as civilisation advances. It will be found that the\nAryan draws a less absolute distinction than the Semite between the\nhuman and the divine. To the Semite God is, broadly speaking, a\nmaster, or Lord, whose word is a command, in regard to whom man is a\nsubject, a slave. To the Aryan the relation is a freer one. His god\nis more human, and art and imagination can do more in his service.\n\n\nBOOKS RECOMMENDED\n\nE. Siecke, _Die religion d. Indogermanen_, 1897.\n\nC. F. Keary, _Outlines of Primitive Belief among the Indo-European\nRaces_, 1882.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XV\nTHE TEUTONS\n\n\nThe Aryans in Europe.--There is more than one European people which\nbefore it was touched by Roman civilisation had remained for an\nindefinite period--a period to be measured probably rather by\nmillenniums than by centuries--in the state of society described in\nlast chapter (see above) as occurring when the Aryans dwelt among\nthose whom they had conquered. In various lands alike we meet with\nthe combination of the patriarchal household with the village, the\ncombination of agricultural with pastoral life, to which the Aryans\nearly settled down among non-Aryan populations. This type of society,\nwhich is the basis of feudalism, is recognised alike in India and in\nGermany. It stretches far back into the past, and may even be\nrecognised in some quarters at the present day.\n\nAs with civilisation so with religion. The early faith of the Slavs,\nthe Celts, and the Teutons is now generally regarded as best\nrepresenting that of the Aryans. It was a religion in which rite and\nbelief were indefinite and variable compared with those of the later\nAryan faiths of India and of Southern Europe, there being neither a\nregular priesthood nor the use of writing to impart fixity to\nreligious forms. The river, the fountain, and the aged oak, each had\nits legend and its observance of unknown antiquity. The pre-Aryan and\nthe Aryan elements of religion acted and reacted on each other, the\nAryan, no doubt, being the element of progress, but blending with the\nother in indistinguishable mixture. The spirits of ancestors lived in\nthe belief and the practice of posterity; a thousand unseen agents in\nthe sky, and in the earth, and under the earth were believed in and\ntreated according to tradition, fed or flouted, bribed or exorcised,\nas occasion suggested. New gods appeared, or old ones were combined\ninto new, or a god migrated from one province to another. Here also\nmyths and rituals were formed by various processes. But a more\nconstant growth of belief took place in connection with some gods as\nlarger social organisms came into existence, village communities\ncombining into tribes, tribes into nations. The great gods of heaven,\nwhatever the history of their early growth, proved specially fitted\nto unite together clans and peoples. These beings received different\nnames in different countries. Their early history, no doubt, was not\nthe same in all, yet in each mythology there were figures and stories\nwhich occurred also in others, whether in consequence of parallel\ngrowth out of similar circumstances in each land, or from a process\nof borrowing at a later time, or from both, we need not try to\ndecide.\n\nWe give a short account of the religion of the Germans. That of the\nCelts, which may be studied in the Hibbert Lectures of Professor\nRhys,[1] or that of the Slavs (of which there is an excellent short\nsummary by Mr. W. R. Morfill in _Religious Systems of the World_),\nwould have equally well served the purpose of exhibiting an Aryan\nreligion at a low stage of development, and held by a people not\nthoroughly compacted into a nation. The religion of the Teutons has\nthe advantage for our study over these others, that it remained\nlonger unsuppressed by Christianity, and in its Scandinavian branch\nput forth a vigorous original growth in comparatively recent times.\nThe latest paganism which flourished in Europe, it is also the\nreligion of our ancestors, on which the Christianity of the Northern\nlands was grafted, and many a survival of which may still be\nrecognised in our own land. It therefore possesses for us even in\nitself considerable interest.\n\n[Footnote 1: _Lectures on the Origin and Growth of Religion as\nillustrated by Celtic Heathendom_, 1886.]\n\nOf the ancient Germans, of the dwellers in the basins of the Rhine\nand the Danube, we have accounts by Caesar and by Tacitus.[2] After\nthis there is a dearth of information; the Christian missionaries to\nthe Germans thought it their duty to cover the former beliefs and\nrites of their converts in oblivion, and abstained from giving\ninformation about them. What we know is drawn from Church writers.\nThe Eddas belong to a much more developed stage of Teutonic life;\nthey tell their own tale, which will be noticed in its turn.\n\n[Footnote 2: Caesar, _B. Gall._ vi. 21. Tacitus, _Germania_.]\n\nThe early Germans dwelt in scattered settlements surrounded by the\ngreat forests and marshes which then covered Central Europe. Every\none has read the description of the brave and warlike people of whom\nthe Romans justly stood so much in awe, and knows about their fierce\nblue eyes and their fair hair, their tall stature, their battle-cries\nand charges, their hardy habits and strict morals. As the Roman\nwriters describe them, they are by no means savages. They do not live\nin towns, but migrate from one spot to another, the community\ncultivating the land it takes possession of, on a system of common\nownership with rotation of occupants. The women did the hard work,\nTacitus says; the men spent their time in the chase and in fighting.\nThey had an organisation beyond that of the village, being arranged\nin what we may call hundreds and shires, each district having to\nfurnish so many men for war, electing its own heads and holding\nmeetings for various purposes. Amidst these local and tribal\ndivisions they did not forget that they were a nation different from\nother nations, and invasion found them a united people. The religious\nexpression of this is to be found in the legend which represents the\nthree great divisions of the nation as descended alike from the god\nMannus, son of the earth-born Tuisco; hymns were sung to the latter\nas the father of the German race. It was by hymns that this people\nremembered things which were important.\n\nThe Early German Gods.--There is a national god, then; and other gods\nof whom Tacitus tells us are national too, not local or tribal. The\ntribes to the south of the Baltic worship Herthus, which, Tacitus\nsays, is their name for Terra Mater, Mother Earth. The other gods he\nmentions are called by Roman names. They worship Mercury, he says, as\ntheir principal god; on certain days they worship him with human\nsacrifices. They also worship Mars and Hercules with animal victims;\nand a particular tribe, the Suevi, worship Isis. Caesar says the\nGermans worship the sun, and Vulcan, and the moon. Tacitus mentions\nother German gods; the two statements are both true. Tacitus gives\nthe German gods Roman names according to a common practice of\nantiquity, which has been the source of much confusion; we shall see\nafterwards how the Romans identified the gods of Greece also with\nthose of Rome.\n\nThe equation which Tacitus gives of the German gods with Latin ones\nis still in daily use in the names of the days of the week. The\nRomans applied the names of the planets, which were the names of\ntheir own gods, to the days of the week as early as the first\nChristian century; and in Germany the days were called after the\nGerman gods supposed to answer to the Roman gods in question. Half\nEurope to this day calls the days of the week after the Roman, and\nthe other half after the German gods. We give the Latin names with\nthe modern French and over against them the English, in which the\nnames of the German gods appear more clearly than in modern German:--\n\n  Dies Solis, the Sun's day=Sunday. (The French _Dimanche_ is from\n  _Dominicus_, the Lord's Day.)\n\n  Dies Lunae (Lundi)=Monday or Moon's day.\n\n  Dies Martis (Mardi)=Tuesday, the day of Tiw or Ziu.\n\n  Dies Mercurii (Mercredi)=Wednesday, the day of Wodan.\n\n  Dies Jovis (Jeudi)=Thursday, the day of Thor. In German this is\n  _Donnerstag_, the day of Donar=Thor.\n\n  Dies Veneris (Vendredi)=Friday, the day of Freya.\n\n  Dies Saturni retains the Latin god's name in our Saturday. (The\n  French _Samedi_ is derived from Sabbath.)\n\nThese Teutonic names for the days of the week are common to all the\nbranches of Teutonic speech, and must have a high antiquity. They\ntell us what gods the Germans had in early times, and to what Roman\ngods these were believed to correspond; but it would be a vain\nendeavour to attempt to deduce from this, or indeed from any early\ninformation we possess on the subject, the origin and nature of these\ngods. From Grimm's laborious study of the question (_German\nMythology_, vol. i.) we gather that it is a matter mainly of\nspeculation what it was in Wodan that led the Romans to identify him\nwith their Mercury. Thor, who is identified with Jupiter, was\nprobably a sky-god, while Tiw or Ziu (whom etymology identifies with\nZeus, not Mars) was a god of war, and Freya, like Venus, had to do\nwith female beauty. We come to know more of these gods when we find\nthem in the Eddas, but it is scarcely legitimate to fill in the South\nGerman gods of the first century from the North German gods of the\nsame names of the eleventh or twelfth. We reserve, therefore, our\ndescription of the German gods till we come to the Northern\nmythology.\n\nThe Roman writers do not furnish any accurate idea of the working\nreligion of the Germans of their day. Caesar says they were not so\nmuch under the guidance of priests as the Gauls were, and that they\nwere not greatly addicted to sacrifice; neither statement can be\nreceived without scrutiny. Tacitus idealises the untutored savage as\nRousseau does, in order to rebuke the vices of a luxurious\ncivilisation; but his statements of actual facts may be trusted.\nKnowledge recently acquired of early forest-cults disposes us to\ntrust him when he speaks, as he does more than once, of the peculiar\nsacredness the Germans attached to woods and groves. He is idealising\nwhen he says, \"They did not confine their gods in walls nor represent\nthem under the likeness of men, being led thereto by considering the\ngreatness of the heavenly beings.\" A few centuries later at least we\nfind Christian bishops busy destroying temples of German heathenism\nand burning images found in them. Undoubtedly, however, the great\nsanctuary of a district was frequently, as he represents, in the\nrecesses of a wood. Under a mighty tree a tribe would hold its\nmeetings and sit in judgment and in council; and there were sacred\ngroves in which no human foot might stray, where the god was supposed\nto dwell, where great sacrifices both of animal and of human victims\ntook place, where the boughs were hung with the bones of former\nsacrifices which in war were carried forth at the head of the tribe\nas its sacred standards. This was done by the priests, who\naccompanied the host to battle, and were charged at such a time with\nthe infliction of all necessary punishments, since they represented\nthe god who was supposed to be personally present as commander. The\npriests had to work the auguries when consulted on matters of state;\non private matters the paterfamilias might do this himself. The\npriests also had charge of the sacred white horses, by whose neighing\nthe will of the deity became known. Several women are also mentioned\nas having enjoyed the reputation of sacred personages; and \"even in\ntheir wives they considered that there was a certain holiness and\ninspiration.\"\n\nTo judge from Tacitus and from other writers of the first Christian\ncenturies, there was little system in the religion of Germany in\nthose days; the gods were not organised in a divine family, the\npriests were not a caste like the Druids of France and Britain, and\nreligious practice was loose and variable. It must also be remembered\nthat what foreign writers reported on the subject was connected\nrather with national and official cults than with popular local\nobservances. Of the latter there was an abundant growth; a\ndistinguished foreign writer might not know about it, but the\nevidence of it survives in various forms which are only now being\nseriously studied. To know the practical religion of early Germany we\nhave to consult the village festival and legend (as has been done by\nMannhardt in his _Wald- und Feld-kulte_ and Mr. Frazer in _The Golden\nBough_, and many a student of folklore), which, though now apparently\nmeaningless, were once the serious religious observance and doctrine\nof the peasantry. The peasant carried his wishes and prayers to the\nfamiliar wishing-well, and presented offerings to the spirit of the\nwell by throwing them into the water or hanging them on the\nsurrounding trees. The fairy rather than far-off Wodan was looked to\nfor good fortune; the rite of the fabulous village hero, with its\nquaint immemorial usages, roused more enthusiasm than the stately\npublic ceremonial. Another side of the mind of early Germany is to be\ngathered from the heroic legends and the fairy tales, many of the\nelements of which, we are assured, were even then in existence. Were\nthese legends formed by a process of degradation; did they begin with\ntelling about the gods, and were they afterwards applied to heroes\nand princes and common men? Or was the process in the opposite\ndirection from this; were the stories, first of all, those of human\nwarriors, their wars and loves, and did they then become mixed up\nwith solar and celestial ideas? Were the fairy tales originally\nstories of the gods, and did they by popular and familiar treatment\nfall below the dignity of their original themes till they came to be\na debased and broken-down mythology? or were they at first stories\nabout beasts and about clever tricks, such as savages love to tell,\nand did they rise to something more dignified, till in some of them\nwe may trace the stories of the gods? It is not necessary that we\nshould answer these questions, which carry us back to an earlier time\nthan that with which we are concerned; but any one who knows the\ntales, and will try to realise the state of mind of those who\nreceived them not as fancy but as serious fact, will know something\nof the religion of early Germany; of the strange beings, fairies,\ndwarfs, magicians, talking animals, animated sun and moon and winds,\nby which the German believed himself to be surrounded.\n\nLater German Religion.--In Southern Germany the introduction of\nChristianity early put an end to any development of Teutonic religion\nwhich might have taken place there. The old faith, however, still\nmaintained itself in more Northern latitudes. It was brought to\nBritain by the German invaders, continued there till the seventh\ncentury, and was brought in again in a more Northern form by the\nNorsemen, who in their turn \"gradually deserted Thor and Odin for the\nwhite Christ.\"[3] Bede tells hardly anything of the paganism which\nhad been the religion of England a century before he wrote; in this\nhe is like other Christian teachers who might have told but did not.\nBut though it came to an end in England, Teutonic religion continued\nto prevail in the countries from which the invaders had come. In\nFrisia in the eighth century we hear of a goddess Hulda, a kind\ngoddess, as her name implies, who sends increase to plants and is a\npatroness of fishing. A god called Fosete, or Forsete (Forseti in\nmodern Icelandic=chairman), identified both with Odin and with\nBalder, was worshipped in Heligoland; he had a sacred well there,\nfrom which water had to be drawn in silence. There are temples, often\nin the middle of a wood, with priestly incumbents, and rich\nendowments, both of lands and treasure; and human sacrifice in\nvarious forms is said to have been in use. Idols are mentioned, even\n(at Upsala in Sweden) a trinity of idols; but this is what Church\nwriters would naturally impute to heathens, and the statement is\ndiscredited. No Teutonic idol has survived; the loss to art may not\nbe great, but such a relic would have settled the controversy.\n\n[Footnote 3: Kingsley's _Hereward the Wake_.]\n\nIceland.--Teutonic paganism reached its highest development in\nIceland. Of this branch of it alone is there a literature, for many\nof the sagas are the fruit of a literary movement in Iceland anterior\nto the establishment of Christianity; and the historian Ari, who\nwrote within a century after that event, gives careful information of\nthe earlier state of affairs. The reader of _Burnt Njal_ sees that\namong the Icelanders life was short and precarious. With the spirit\nof adventure, which led them to be constantly setting out on warlike\nand piratical expeditions, they combined a strong tendency to local\nquarrels, which filled up their life at home with a constant series\nof blood-feuds. These latter are gone about in a methodical and\nbusiness-like way; custom sanctions them, the meetings of the popular\nassembly do not seek to suppress or punish them if only they are\nconducted according to the rules. No public authority had as yet\narisen to carry out the law between one household and another; the\navenger has his recognised place and duty. Society is patriarchal as\nin other Aryan communities; each family is a community of\nblood-kindred for mutual defence and also for worship. The leading\ncult of Icelandic religion was the domestic worship of ancestors,\nconducted by the head of the household. The dead were buried in\nknolls or burrows near the dwelling, and their spirits were thought\nto inhabit these places; they are said to \"die into the hill.\" Altars\nare erected and sacrifices offered there; the blood of the victim\npoured out upon the ground is supposed to be enjoyed by them. These\nknolls became the sacred places of their district, and many a belief\nexisted about these quiet neighbours and the help they afforded to\nthe living. \"Elves\" they were called, and they were thought of as a\ncleanly and kindly race. The spirits of bad men, on the contrary,\nlived an uneasy life, as demons, and were the workers of mischief.\n\nAlong with this belief in the spirits of the dead as inhabiting the\nburial hill of the household, there is another conception, namely,\nthat the dead go to a distant region of the unseen world. In Homer\nalso these two conceptions are combined. The Icelandic burial rites\nare founded on the latter view. The \"departed\" is going on a long\njourney, and his friends escort him as far as they can; shoes are\nbound on his feet, the Hel-shoes, for Hel is the name of the region\nof the dead. Gifts are given to him; horses, male and female\nattendants, hawks and hounds, are burned with him on the pyre, and\nhis wife voluntarily accompanies him; all these he is to have with\nhim in the country beyond.\n\nIn addition to the domestic cult we have that of local objects; holy\nwells, waterfalls, groves, stones are worshipped. Mother Earth is\ncalled on, so is Thunder, so is Heaven. But besides these minor\nworships there is the public one, connected with a large tribe or\nwith a king's court. A temple on the same plan as a large\ndwelling-house forms a place of meeting and of sacrifice, an asylum,\nand a place of oaths and covenants. On a table in front of the high\nseat stands the bowl which, filled with blood and along with certain\nsticks, forms a means of divination. A gold ring also lies there,\nwhich a man puts on when he is about to swear an oath, and which the\npriest puts on at meetings.\n\nThe priest has the duty of keeping up the building and property of\nthe temple and of maintaining the sacrifices. At the latter various\nrites are done with the blood of victims, and those present feast on\nthe flesh and drink toasts. The first cup is for Wodan, various other\ngods are celebrated, and there is a cup of remembrance for the\ndeparted. Sacrifices are offered for the crops, for victory, for any\ngreat object on which the community is bent. In this ritual there is\nno evidence of any idols. Though the Icelanders are not without art,\nthe great gods have not yet perhaps assumed to their minds such\ndefinite figures as to be thus set forth: no Homer has placed them\nclear before the inward eye. The rites are bloody, the altar has ever\nanew to be made to shine with the blood of victims. Human sacrifices\nare only resorted to in times of great common danger, as a terrible\nlast resort; the god to whom the human victim is devoted is moved by\nthe bloodshed to avert his anger, or to make greater exertions for\nhis people. Bloodshed forms the strongest of all bonds. To link\nthemselves together in an indissoluble brotherhood, two friends\nmingle their blood on the ground and then each of them treads on it.\nThe shedding of human blood at the launching of a ship or at the\nlaying of the foundation of a building is also known. Savage and\ncruel as this religion is, there are signs that it is softening, and\nthat some of its darker rites are beginning to admit of commutation.\nWhen Christianity approaches, the Icelanders feel that it must make a\ngreat change, and that some of the cruelties which they regard as the\ngood old customs, will have to be laid aside. We hear of the\nstipulation being made that if they receive baptism they shall not be\nrequired to give up the removal of unpromising children nor the\neating of horseflesh.\n\nThe Eddas, in which Scandinavian mythology reaches its ultimate form,\nseem to belong to a higher plane of human life than the religion we\nhave described, and it has appeared to many scholars of late years\nthat they cannot be regarded as a pure product of paganism, but are\nin great part influenced by Christianity both in matter and in\nsentiment. The older Edda, written in verse, is said to have been\ncollected by Saemund Sigfusson the learned, one of the early Christian\npriests of Iceland, who lived about the eleventh century. The other\nEdda is in prose; it is a collection made about two centuries later.\nThe form given to the myths in these collections is due to the\nSkalds, who flourished in Iceland in the early Middle Ages; but the\nlegends themselves are older. Nothing is known precisely about their\norigin or early diffusion.\n\nThe Eddas may be compared in many respects with the Homeric poems. As\nin the latter, the gods form a family, the members of which come\ntogether to a certain place for meetings, while individually they\nhave their own adventures, their loves, their jealousies, their\njokes, their tricks. In the Eddas too we find that the gods are not,\nstrictly speaking, eternal; they succeeded an older race of gods, and\ntheir turn too may come to pass away. They are called Aesir, which is\nthe plural of As. The etymology of this is uncertain; compare the\nSanscrit Asura, said to mean the living or breathing one. The Aesir\nare spoken of in later times, not in the Eddas, as if they had been a\nrace of warriors; they are said to have come in to Scandinavia and\ngot the better of those who lived there before, because they\nworshipped a superior set of gods.[4] An historic reminiscence may\nlurk here. Before the Aesir there were giants, and the earth with all\nits parts is made of the body of one of these giants,[5] whom the new\nrace superseded as governors of the world. But the giants are still\nthere and their spirit is unchanged; there is a danger of their\ninterfering to subvert the rule of their successors.\n\n[Footnote 4: See a similar statement about the Incas, chapter vi.]\n\n[Footnote 5: Compare \"Purusha\" in the _Rigveda_.]\n\nThere are other cosmogonic myths besides that of the division of the\ngiant Ymir. One is on this wise. Ere this world began, there was on\none side Niflheim, the land of mist and cold, on the other side\nMuspelheim, the region of fire; between these two lay Ginnungagap,\nthe north side of it frozen, the south side glowing hot, and life\noriginated by the meeting, in one way or another, of the heat and\ncold. There are very primitive myths of the shaping of man out of two\npieces of wood, of Night and Day as drivers of chariots and horses,\nof the sun and moon fleeing from wolves, and so on. A more poetic\nconception is the division of the world into Asgard, the garden of\nthe Aesir; Midgard, the world of man; and Utgard, the world outside.\nIn the first Odin has his seat Hlidskjalf; when he sits in it he can\nsee and understand whatever is happening in any part of the broad\nworld (is he the sun, then?). The third region is generally called\nJoetunheim, the home of the giants, an icy region at the extreme part\nof the habitable world. A bridge exists from the dwelling of men to\nthat of the gods; it is called Bifroest, and is the rainbow.\n\nThe gods have various places of meeting; but their principal seat is\nunder a great tree, the ash. Yggdrasil[6] is a tree worthy of the\ngods; it is a world-tree; its roots extend to all the worlds; its\nbranches spread even over heaven. Under it is the fountain Mimir,\nspring of wisdom, from which Odin drinks daily. Near it is the\ndwelling of the Norns, fates or weird sisters, who establish laws and\nuphold them by their judgments, and allot to every man his span of\nlife. They are named Urd the past, Verdandi the present, and Skuld\nthe future. Daily do they water the ash from the spring to keep its\nleaves fresh, and help it to contend with its numerous foes, for a\ngreat serpent is continually gnawing at its root, and it has also\nother troubles. This myth of Yggdrasil is the apotheosis of Teutonic\ntree-worship, and is richly suggestive.[7]\n\n[Footnote 6: Yggdrasil=Odin's horse=the gallows. Is it the cross?]\n\n[Footnote 7: Carlyle in his _Heroes_, p. 18, draws out the spiritual\nsignificance of it and of Norse mythology generally.]\n\nThe Gods of the Eddas.--We now come to the gods of the system. Odin\nis in the Eddas the founder of the world as now constituted. He has\ndisplaced the old formless race of gods, and is the leader of a new\nand vigorous race now ruling in their stead. The old scholars\nrationalised Odin into a chief who had led a migration from Asia to\nNorway in early times. He is the inventor of the art of writing by\nrunes and the founder of poetry; thus he has the aspect of a\nculture-hero; that is to say, of a man of advanced views who, for the\nbenefits he conferred on his people, was exalted first to a hero and\nthen to a god. But the worship of Odin or Wodan is one of the\nearliest things we know about the German race. He is the god of the\nSouth-Germans from the very first. His earliest character is that of\na storm-god. Whether his name is connected with the German _wuethen_,\nrage (Scot. _wud_) or with the Vedic Vata, who is a god of storm, he\nis from the first an impetuous being. The early myth of him is\nscarcely dead at this day; the peasant hears him rushing through the\nwoods at night. That is the \"wild hunt of Wodan,\" he says; the god is\nout with his followers, and woe to him who gets in his way! The early\nGermans thought of him as a kind being who fulfilled the wishes of\nmen, and it was probably this side of his character that caused him\nto be identified with Mercury. In the Eddic theology he is a patron\nof war, as becomes the chief god of a warlike people. He arranges\nbattle and dispenses victory; the heroes who fall in battle he\nreceives into his heavenly army; they live with him in Valhalla or\nValhoell, the hall of choice. Odin chooses those who are to go there;\nhe is assisted in this by the Valkyries or choice-maidens. Life in\nValhalla is a constant round of fighting, the wounds of which are\nhealed at once, and feasting, the materials for which are ever\nrenewed. Odin, like other great gods, bears traces of low\nsurroundings, as if he had once lived among savages. He can turn\nhimself into an eagle or other animal to gain his object, and he has\nengaged in disreputable adventures. But he tends to improve, and the\nEddas show him at his best. Here he is called the All-father, the\nRuler of all, who gave man a soul that shall never perish; and we\nhear that he needs no food and takes no share himself in the feasts\nof the heroes. All the righteous shall be with him in Vingolf (the\nsame as Valhalla), but the wicked shall go to Hel, the kingdom of Hel\nor Hela, the goddess of the under-world.\n\nThor or Donar, Thunder, is said to be the mightiest of the gods; he\nis identified, as we saw, with Jove, but he is a rougher and more\nprimitive deity. He drives in a chariot drawn by two goats, and is\npossessed of three things which have wonderful properties. The first\nis the hammer Mjoelnir, which the Frost- and Mountain-giants cannot\nresist when he throws it; the second is the belt of strength, which\nmakes him twice as strong when he puts it on; and the third a pair of\ngauntlets with which he grasps his mallet. Many stories are told of\nhis prowess, of his conflicts with the giants, who, however, give him\na good deal of trouble with their cunning; and of his catching the\nMidgard serpent which surrounds the world at the bottom of the sea.\nBeing a god of storm, he forms a connection with agriculture, and\nthus gains a more sedate aspect; he has also to do with marriage, and\na hammer is used symbolically at Icelandic weddings. Thor is only\nhalf-brother to the other sons of Odin; his mother was Fioergyn, the\nearth; the worships of Odin and Thor, originally distinct, seem to\nhave been united at an early period.\n\nThe god Tyr, son of Odin by a giantess, is the Eddic figure of the\nGerman Tiw or Ziu, etymologically equivalent to Zeus or Jupiter, but\nidentified by the Romans with Mars. His greatness belongs to early\ntimes; he was then a sword-god, and had an extensive worship in\nvarious parts of Europe. In the Eddas he has scarcely any character,\nand seldom takes a prominent part in the legend. Loki, by etymology a\nfire-god (Germ. _Loehe_, Scot. _Lowe_),[8] is in one account the\nbrother of Odin, in another his son by a giantess. His character is\nfitful; sometimes he acts a brotherly part by the gods and helps them\nout of their difficulties by clever devices, and sometimes he\nprovides entertainment for them; but for the most part he is an\nembodiment of cunning and mischief; his course is downwards, he tends\nto become a being purely evil, setting himself heartlessly against\nthe wishes of the other gods, and acting so as to imperil them and\ntheir world till they are obliged to cast him out of heaven. He is\nthus a kind of Lucifer or Satan, and like the Christian devil, his\nultimate fate is to be bound till the end of the world shall arrive.\nBaldur, the son of Odin and Frigga, is the best and brightest of the\ngods. Like Apollo, he has to do with light, and no pollution can come\nnear him; he has also to do with the administration of justice, and\npronounces sentences which can never be reversed. Heimdall also is a\nlight and gracious god; he is the warder of the Aesir, and stays near\nthe bridge Bifroest. Of him it is told that he wants less sleep than a\nbird, sees a hundred miles off by night or day, and hears the grass\ngrow on the ground and the wool on the sheep's back. Bragi is the god\nof poetry and eloquence, the best of all skalds.\n\n[Footnote 8: The etymology is not perhaps correct, but it suggested\nitself and influenced the view taken of this god, in very early\ntimes.]\n\nOf the goddesses, Frigga, wife of Odin, stands first, an august\nmatron of mysterious knowledge, whom even gods consult, and by whom\nmen swear; she has also to do with marriage, and the childless appeal\nto her. Etymologically she is scarcely to be distinguished from\nFreya, wife of Odur, who, however, is lighter in character, and is\nrather a goddess of love. The goddesses in the Eddas are more shadowy\nfigures than the gods; there are others, and an attempt is made to\nreckon up twelve of them to answer to the twelve chief gods, but\ntheir names are taken from the qualities they represent, and they\nhave little reality.\n\nThe story of the death of Baldur, brought about by the evil mind of\nLoki in defiance of the whole divine family, sounds the note of\ntragedy in the divine family of the Eddas. The gods themselves\nsuffer, and are unable to retrieve the misfortune which has come upon\nthem. With one accord they try to get Baldur brought back from the\nunder-world, but they are foiled by the same agency of evil which\ncarried him off. With the death of Baldur the gods feel that their\nrule, which, we saw, had a beginning, and with it the world they\ngovern, for the two are inseparably bound up with each other, is\ncoming to an end. The gods perish in the ruin of the world; and this\nis well, for sin cleaves to them and to their house, and they are not\nfit to endure. Ragnaroek, the twilight of the gods, comes on; the\nuniverse is burnt up in a mighty conflagration, and while there are\nabodes of bliss and abodes of misery where some survive, the universe\nas a whole is entirely changed, and a milder race of gods will rule\nover a better world.\n\nIf this mythology were found to be of native Scandinavian growth, it\nwould prove that Teutonic religion was capable of lofty development,\nand would throw back an interesting light upon its previous history.\nHere, it has been maintained, we see the Teutonic faith rising to\nmonotheism. Odin has among his other titles that of All-father; he is\nrising above the other gods to a position of supremacy, which will\nfit him, if the process were allowed, as it was not, to advance\nsomewhat further, to represent pure deity and to attract to himself\nan undivided reverence. Here also we find a religion which was\nformerly a rude intercourse between barbarous men and savage gods,\nclothing itself with an ideal element. As the Greeks found religion\nin beauty and the Romans in utility, so did the Germans find it at\nlast in pathos. They attain to the conception of suffering deity; in\nBaldur a god falls victim to malice and wickedness, and the sorrow of\nhis fall takes possession of the whole of heaven. Thus pain and\nsacrifice are hallowed, for man by the history of the gods, and his\nintercourse with them leads him into heights and depths unknown\nbefore.\n\nBut the conviction is now establishing itself that this phase of\nTeutonic religion is borrowed from Christianity, which was then\nseriously menacing the existence of the old faith, and that it is the\nshadow of their approaching extinction by the new religion, which\noccasions among the Northern gods this feeling of sadness. They feel\nthemselves falling from their position; they are to be gods no\nlonger, but are to yield to the world-order, based on a deeper law\nthan theirs, which called them into being and now is preparing their\ndismissal. Distinctly Christian ideas enter the old world of gods;\nthe ideas of sin, of sacrifice, of a final judgment, of a good god\nwho dies, of an evil spirit who, after prevailing for a time, is\nchained up to await his doom. That a sense of guilt rests on the gods\nshows that they are abandoning their rule, and they acknowledge that\ntheir successors will be better than they have been.\n\n\nBOOKS RECOMMENDED\n\nGrimm's _German Mythology_, translated by Stallybrass, 4 vols.\n\nGrimm's _Fairy Tales_. Mr. Lang writes an Introduction to the English\ntranslation in Bell's edition.\n\nMannhardt, _Germanische Mythen_, 1858, and _Wald- und Feld-kulte_,\n1875, 77.\n\nFor the later Northern section, Vigfusson and Powell's _Corpus\nPoeticum Boreale_, especially the Excursus on Religion, i. 401.\n\nDasent, _Burnt Njal; or Life in Iceland at the end of the tenth\ncentury_.\n\nMallet's _Northern Antiquities_.\n\nThorpe, _Northern Mythology_.\n\nDe la Saussaye, _The Religion of the Teutons_, 1902, the most\ncomprehensive statement of the whole subject.\n\nRalston, _Songs of Russian People_, and _Russian Folk Tales_.\n\nSimrock, _Handb. der deutschen Mythologie_.\n\nR. M. Meyer, _Altgermanische Religionsgeschichte_, 1910.\n\nSir John Rhys, _Oxford Proceedings_, p. 201, _sqq._\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XVI\nGREECE\n\n\nThe history of Europe begins in Greece. It is there that the Aryans\nin Europe first feel the touch of the arts and civilisation of the\nEast, and are stirred up to new activities; and the life thus\nquickened in Greece transmitted its spark to Italy, and so to the\nwhole of Europe.\n\nPeople and Land.--There is no direct evidence that the Greeks came to\ntheir country from elsewhere; and the theory of a Graeco-Italic\nperiod, in which the future inhabitants of Greece and Italy lived\ntogether somewhere to the north of both these countries and made\ncommon advances in civilisation, is now abandoned. There are,\nhowever, faint indications that the Greeks spread over their country\nfrom the north southwards. What people dwelt in it before them it is\nimpossible to say; the Pelasgi and Leleges, whom they themselves\nconceived to have preceded them, left behind them no other trace than\nthat belief. When first we descry this land in the faint dawn of\nhistory, it is tenanted by the people whose name it bears, touched\nonly by the Thracians to the north, and the Illyrians to the west,\nthese also being Aryan races. Though the Greeks are on both sides of\nthe Egean, which seems from the earliest times to have connected\nrather than divided them, their centre of gravity is in the mainland\nof Hellas, including the Peloponnesus. In this country many a\nmigration no doubt took place before the people was finally arranged\nin it; and some of these migrations are faintly known to history.\nWhen once the settlement had been accomplished, the nature of the\ncountry did much to fix the institutions of the people and the mutual\nrelations of their various communities. Large tribes coming into the\nnarrow valleys and sequestered coasts of Greece necessarily broke up\ninto small cantons, each of which, though not cut off from\nintercourse with its neighbours, was free to develop by itself. The\ncountry is said by travellers to be the most beautiful in the world.\nThe branch of the Aryans which settled in it may have brought scanty\nacquirements with them, but they brought great capacities. The Greeks\nhad an unrivalled talent for doing what they saw others do, in a much\nbetter way, and so making it their own. They had an inborn\ndisposition to what is reasonable. That they had a deep-seated\ninclination to what is harmonious and beautiful is proved by their\nfirst great work of art, their language. Of that language there were\nseveral dialects in the earliest times; the principal ones being the\nbroad Doric of the peninsula and the colonies, and the softer Ionic\nof which the classical language is a branch. But the Greeks of all\ndialects could understand each other, and regarded as barbarians\nthose without who spoke other tongues. Thus from the first this\npeople was much divided, but was also held together by strong bonds.\n\nEarliest Religion--Functional Deities.--The religion the Greeks\nbrought with them to their country was undoubtedly that which we have\ndiscussed in our chapter on the Aryans. The primitive elements of\nAryan religion all reappear in Greece; the combination of many small\nhousehold worships with the supra-family worship of a great god or\ngods, the few great gods who are surrounded by a multitude of\nspirits, some of these also growing into gods, the recognition of\nspiritual presences in many a natural object, living or dead. All\nthis we find in early Greece. The whole nation believes in Zeus; to\nall he is the Lord of heaven, the giver of rain, the fertiliser of\nmother earth, the supreme ruler in earth as well as in heaven, the\nfather of the gods as well as of men. This is the first bond of unity\nin Greek religion. But every family, every village, every town has\nits own peculiar worship which is to be found nowhere else. That\nworship may be addressed to Zeus with a local title; each circle of\nmen has its own particular Zeus, who is their protector and ruler;\nand thus Zeus has many forms and names. In each community there is\nalso the worship of the goddess of the hearth (Hestia); each\nhousehold has its own Hestia, and carries on the worship which in\nother Aryan peoples is connected with the memory of departed\nancestors. But the family or the township has also other objects of\nworship. There are other gods besides Zeus who are connected with\nheaven, such as Apollo and Heracles. There are gods connected with\neach activity of the people. Artemis is goddess of hunting, Aphrodite\nof the peaceful life of nature and of gardens, and also of love.\nPoseidon, the sea-god, was also worshipped inland, and was perhaps\noriginally a god of horses and oxen; Hephaestus was the god of workers\nin metal, Ares the god of battle. These are in their origin what are\ncalled functional deities, that is to say, gods who are present in\nthe function with which they are associated, and of which they\nconstitute the ideal or sacred side, and who have no existence apart\nfrom it.\n\nThe gods of Greece in fact had their origin in that view of nature as\nanimated in every part, which the Greeks shared with other branches\nof the Aryans, and with early man generally. Like the Latins, the\nGreeks at first saw a mystery, a spirit, in every part of life; each\nfountain had its nymph, each forest glade its dryad; and they felt\nthe gods to be returning to fresh life when spring came with its\nflowers. Each of their own activities also had its unseen genius.\nEach enclosure for flocks had its Apollo, \"him of the sheepfold,\" who\nprotected the flock and the shepherd; and each boundary stone its\nHermes, \"him of the boundary,\" who also watched over flocks and took\ncharge of marches and of paths.\n\nGrowth of Greek Gods.--Such beings, however, are something less than\ngods; and the Greeks, long before we know them, had made the step\nwhich the Romans scarcely made at all, from the spirit to the god,\nfrom the vague unseen power behind an object or an act, to the free\nbeing conceived with human attributes and feelings, who can be the\npatron of a community, and afford help in all its concerns. Not all\nthe spirits rise into gods; it depends on circumstances which of them\nare selected for that advance; but the choice once made, their rise\nwas rapid. As the gods grew into personality and definite character,\nthough the function out of which they first sprang was not forgotten,\nother functions were added to them; and as a god grew in power and\nconsideration, his worship was set up in new places, where other\ntitles and attributes awaited him. The local god might be identified\nwith the great god from a distance. The god of a powerful community,\nas Athene (\"she of Athens\"), might be adopted wherever the influence\nof that community extended; thus new gods arose and old ones took\nlocal form. When a change took place in the habits of the people, it\nwas followed by a corresponding change in the character of their\ngods. When agriculture comes in, the gods have to take notice of it,\nthe pastoral god turns agricultural, and even the huntress Artemis\nbecomes an encourager of fertility. When navigation rises in\nimportance, a number of the gods, Poseidon at their head, become\nsea-gods.\n\nStones, Animals, Trees.--In Greece the worship of the gods soon\nsuperseded that of objects not possessing any human character. Traces\nof such lower worships survive, it is true, in the later religion in\ngreat abundance, but they have no influence in its development; they\nonly tell their story of the otherwise forgotten past. Stones were\nworshipped in early Greece. Not to speak of the cromlechs and\ndolmens, which are found there as in all parts of Asia and Europe,\nand the meaning of which is so little understood, stones were\npreserved as sacred objects in various places, even to late times,\nand had no doubt originally been worshipped. The god Hermes was\nrepresented in every period by a slab of stone set upright, a human\nhead and other human features being indicated on it. Even in later\nGreece, boards or blocks of wood were in some places exhibited on\nrare occasions, which were the oldest images of the Artemis or the\nAphrodite there adored. Though for the public eye splendid statues\nhad taken the place of the goddess, the original image was still\nthought to have a sanctity all its own. We also notice that the gods\nof Greece are associated with animals. Zeus is a bull in Crete; he\nhas also other transformations: Pan is a goat; Artemis is a bear in\nsome provinces, elsewhere a doe. The Athene of the Acropolis is a\nserpent. Apollo is sometimes connected with the mouse. Along with\nthese identifications of the gods with animals we may mention the\nanimal emblems with which they are generally represented. The eagle\nis the bird of Zeus, the owl of Athene, the peacock of Hera, the dove\nof Aphrodite. In this connection we cannot help thinking of the\nsacred animals of the Egyptian nomes; and the question may be asked\nwhether such animals must be taken to be in Greece also the signs of\na primitive totemism?\n\nOf the tree-worship of Greece much has been written of late. The oak\nwas the sacred tree of Zeus; he must have been conceived as living in\nit; he gave oracles at Dodona by the rustling of the branches of the\ntree. Athene has the olive, Apollo the palm, and also the laurel.\nAfter the introduction of agriculture rustic cults arose, in which\nthe inhabitants of a village followed in sympathetic rites the\nfortunes of the gods who live in the life of the plants in summer and\ndie with them in autumn. The god of the Semites is generally a\nchangeless being, who himself conducts and orders the changes of the\nseasons, but in Greece we find gods whom man can accompany in the\ntragedy of their fall and the triumph of their rise. We shall see\nafterwards that the rustic worships of Demeter and Proserpine were\nbrought forward at a critical period in Greek religion, to supply an\nelement which was much required in it. These worships, similar, as\nMr. Frazer suggests,[1] to those still kept up by our own peasantry,\nwere doubtless of immemorial antiquity in Greece, though in the\nearlier period they are little heard of.\n\n[Footnote 1: _Golden Bough_, vol. i. p. 356.]\n\nThus the Greek gods grew up in the period before Greece was awakened\nto new thoughts by contact with foreign peoples. Many harsh and cruel\nrites were no doubt practised; human sacrifice, heard of even in\nlater times in remote parts of the country, was not unknown, and\npractices were connected with the service of stern gods and goddesses\nwhich, though literature is silent about them, left their mark on\ncustom. Zeus and one or two other gods are essentially moral, and\nsome duties were strongly encouraged by religion, such as those of\nhospitality and strict regard for boundaries, of faithfulness to\npledge, of respect for strangers. But many of the gods are too\nclosely interwoven with external nature to be very decidedly moral\npowers; they are like the plants and animals, neither good nor bad\nbut natural.\n\nGreek Religion is Local.--What strikes us most strongly about this\nearly Greek religion is its entire want of system and its local and\ndisintegrated character. Every town, every family, has its own\nreligion. There is no central authority. New gods are constantly\nspringing up; the old ones are constantly receiving new titles and\nforming new unions with each other or with newer gods. The god of one\nplace is in another only a hero; the same god is represented in\ndifferent places in entirely different ways, and entirely different\nlegends are attached to his name. Thus the Greeks have from the first\na mythology singularly extensive and inconsistent, and their worship\nalso varies in each place. There is no general religion, but only a\nmultitude of local ones. In story and in rite old and new are mixed\nup together,--what is local and what is imported, what is savage in\nits nature and origin, and what is on the side of progress. This is a\nstate of matters which lies in every land before the beginning of\norganised religion. Rites and legends are everywhere of local growth,\nand the attempt to frame the various rites and legends into a\nconsistent ritual and a systematic account of the gods, comes later.\nIn Greece, as Mr. Robertson Smith observes, the earlier state of\nmatters continued longer and influenced the national faith more\ndeeply than elsewhere. As the Greeks never succeeded in forming a\ncentral political system, so they never attained to unity in worship.\nNo national temple arose, the priesthood of which had power to frame\nthe national religion, to lay down rules for sacrifice, or to edit\nsacred texts. The Greeks were less than any other people under the\nsway of religious authority. While local practice was fixed, and\ncustom and tradition declared plainly enough what was to be regarded\nas religious duty, belief was quite free to grow as circumstances or\nthe growth of culture dictated. A religion in such a position, and\namong a people of lively imagination and specially gifted in the\ndirection of art, must necessarily receive its forms rather from the\nartist than the priest.\n\nArtistic Tendency.--Thus we can discern from the first the direction\nwhich Greek religion must take. The Greeks shaped their gods earlier\nand more freely than other peoples, and went on shaping them till no\nfurther advance could be made in that way. Long before Homer they had\nbeen making their gods such as free men, and men endowed with a sense\nof beauty, could worship. They were not content to worship lifeless\nobjects, but must have living beings. They were not content to\nworship beings without reason, they must worship reasonable beings.\nThey were not inclined to regard the natural objects they worshipped\nwith terror or self-prostration, but rather in a spirit of genial\nfriendliness and sympathy as being something like themselves. And so\nthey turned their gods into men. The anthropomorphising tendency,\npresent as we have seen in other lands and at much earlier periods,\npresent indeed wherever religion is a growing power, had freer play\nwith them than with any other people. Thus the spirits of the\nfountain and the tree, and of every part of nature that was\nworshipped, took human form. At first, no doubt, the nymph was in the\nfountain, the dryad in the oak, but as time went on the human maiden\ncast off her mosses and her bark and leaves, and stood forth to\nimagination a being wholly human, dwelling beside the fountain or the\ntree. In the same way heaven becomes a great human father, the sea an\nearth-shaking potentate drawn by dolphins over the waves, the sun a\nmighty archer, fire a lame craftsman (from the flickering of flame?)\nwhose smithy is underground where the volcanoes are. And the figures\nonce arrived at, it was no hard task to spin out their stories and\ntheir relations with each other, and to connect with them older\ntales, as taste or fancy suggested.\n\nThe thorough humanisation of the gods, the clothing of the gods in\nthe highest types connected with free human society, is the first\ngreat contribution made by this gifted race to the progress of\nreligion. Receiving from the earlier world the same kind of gods as\nother nations did, Greece proceeded to treat them in a way of her\nown, idealised and refined the parts of nature held divine, and\nascribed to them not only, as all early races do, human motives and\nhuman passions, but also human beauty and wisdom and goodness.\nWhatever rude materials she received to work on, either from the\nearlier dwellers on Greek soil or from foreign lands, she made them\nher own by transfiguring them into ideal men and women. Thus the\nGreeks reached the position, which they taught the world first in\nimmortal poetry and then in immortal plastic art, that man should not\nbow down to anything that is beneath him, and that nature can only\nbecome fit to be worshipped by being idealised and made human. An end\nwas made to the dark imagination which was so apt to creep over all\nearly religion, that deity and humanity may be different and\nopposite; that an object devoid of reason, an object or an animal\nadmired not for its goodness but for something about it which man\ncannot understand, may be his god and have a claim to his allegiance.\nGod and man are of the same nature, the Greeks found; to arrive at a\ntrue idea of a god we have to form, on the basis of the natural\nobject where he is supposed to dwell, the image of an ideal man or\nwoman. This was a great step, but in this conception of deity the\nGreeks also laid up for themselves, as we shall see, many\ndifficulties.\n\nEarly Eastern Influences.--Our positive knowledge of Greek history\nbegins about the middle of the second millennium B.C.; we have\ninformation of this period in the ruins of Mycenae and Tiryns and\nother places. These remains attest a political condition widely\ndifferent from that of the patriarchal settlements of the period when\nthe Greeks were emerging from Aryan barbarism; very different also\nfrom the free city life which came afterwards. The recent excavations\nhave brought to light the palaces of kings, built, it is evident,\naccording to an Eastern type, and with arrangements for the burial\nand worship of dead potentates, not unlike those of the pyramids. The\nart is rude, but shows large forces to have been at the command of\nthose who directed it. We have here, therefore, a state of matters\nsuch as that described in the Homeric poems, in which petty kings\nrule in many of the Greek towns, some of them being personages of\ngreat rank and power. The movement in civilisation attested by these\nremains is admitted to be due to an impulse from the East; but\nwhether this impulse was imparted by the voyages of Phenician\ndiscoverers and merchants, or whether it came by land along the trade\nroutes of Asia Minor and across the Egean, is uncertain. It is in any\ncase traceable to North Syria, where in the early part of the second\nmillennium B.C. Babylonian and Egyptian influences met and gave rise\nto some rude civilisation. Greece was not conquered from the East,\nbut stirred to new life by the communication of Eastern ideas.\n\nGreek religion was not much assisted, or indeed much modified in any\nway, by this movement. The worship of ancestors which went on in the\npalaces was not contrary to Greek sentiment, perhaps not even much\nmore elaborate than that sentiment required. But this part of\nreligion was not a growing thing in Greece; and the royal practices\ndid not prevent it from dying gradually away in later times. That any\ngod was imported into Greece at this time, is not proved. Where\nGreeks and Phenicians met, as in some of the islands, a Greek and an\nEastern god might be identified; the worship of Aphrodite and that of\nAstarte were fused in this way in Cyprus, and Aphrodite may thus have\nacquired some new characteristics even in Greece. This is not\ncertain. Perhaps the most important thing to notice in this\nconnection is that the new type of society at the royal courts may\nhave furnished a model for the arrangement of the heavenly family\nwhen that arrangement came to be made. The Eastern influence came to\nan end in time, and the pressure being removed, the monarchies\ncrumbled away, the court worships were discontinued, and Greece was\nleft free, after this awaking to fuller life, to pursue her own\nthoughts in her own fashion.\n\nHomer was regarded by the Greeks who lived after him as the founder\nof their religion. Herodotus considers (ii. 53) that Homer and Hesiod\nlived four hundred years before his time, and that it was they who\nframed a theogony for the Greeks, gave names to the gods, assigned to\nthem honours and arts, and declared their several forms. These\nwriters accordingly formed a standard of religious belief; we know\nthat their works were the basis of the education of the Greek, and\nthey thus provided an early bond of national unity.\n\nThe Homeric poems are the outcome, whether we regard them as the work\nof one singer or of two, or of a whole school, of long processes of\ngrowth. The poetic art which makes them the delight of all mankind is\nnot a first experiment, but the ripe result of an elaborate method.\nThe stories and the wisdom they contain are brought together from\nmany quarters by long accumulation. And in the same way the accounts\nthey give of the gods individually and of their relations to each\nother are not thrown together at haphazard, but are the result of a\nwork of unconscious art which must have been carried on for centuries\nbefore it issued in this form. Homer does not by any means repeat all\nthe stories he knows about the gods. He passes over many local myths,\nespecially those of the more repulsive order, which were known for\ncenturies after, and undoubtedly existed in his day; only what is\n\"worthy of a pious bard\" does he reproduce. A pious bard, however,\nhad considerable latitude; and the phrase does not represent all that\nHomer was. He was an entertainer of the public at royal courts, where\na feast was incomplete without him (_Odyssey_ viii.); he had to\nproduce his songs at banquets or in the open air at festivals; what\nhe gave had to be entertaining. This could not but influence his\nchoice of materials even when the gods were his theme. He could not\ndeal in what was most terrible about the gods, nor could he enter\ninto speculations or mysteries, nor could he make use of a legend\nwhich, though it had point for the locality it belonged to, was not\ngenerally interesting. What was powerful and dramatic, what all men\ncould understand, what was curious and piquant, what met the general\nsentiment, that he would be led to adopt and to work up into a\ntelling form; he naturally sought after broad pictures, amusing\nconversations, simple and true emotions, curious incidents connected\nwith well-known characters. Religion, it is plain, could not gain in\ndepth and intensity from the treatment of such poets; many of the\nthoughts men had about the gods could not find expression in their\nlines. But, on the other hand, we have the fact that the Greeks\naccepted the Homeric representation of their religion as the standard\none; not till it had existed for centuries were voices raised against\nit. And this is not strange. Homer took away nothing from the\nreligion of any Greek; no local worship was in any way infringed upon\nby him; and on the other side he gave to the Greek world, whose\nbelief consisted formerly in a multitude of disconnected or even\ninconsistent legends, a united system of gods, in which there was at\nthat stage rest for the mind, and for the imagination an\ninexhaustible spring of ideal beauty.\n\nThe Homeric Gods.--What, then, is the religion of Homer? The gods are\na set of beings not very unlike men; they present a curious\ncombination of human frailty with superhuman powers and virtues. To\nspeak first of the physical side of their nature, the gods are far\nstronger than men, their frame is huger, their eye keener, their\nvoice louder; like the sorcerer of savage times, they can assume\nother shapes to gain their ends, they can become invisible, or they\ncan travel very swiftly through the air. Yet, on the other hand, they\ncan be wounded when they strive even with men; accidents happen to\nthem, they require to eat and drink. They eat, it is true, ambrosia,\nand drink nectar, which give immortality; and they have in their\nveins not human blood but divine ichor. It is the fact of their\nimmortality that makes them different from men; it has happened that\na man obtained immortality and became thereby a god. The line between\ngods and men may be crossed; in former times it was crossed more\nfrequently. The gods entered into relations with mortals; many of the\nheroes are of divine extraction, and the gods are still interested in\nthe royal houses they thus founded. But such unions do not take place\nin the poet's time. The world is growing less divine.\n\nHomer, however, looks further back than this, and we find in him the\nbelief, found also in India and in Iceland, that an older and more\nsavage race of gods once ruled, whom the present dynasty conquered\nand dethroned. Of that older set was Kronos, the father of Zeus, and\nthe Titans, who are now cast down to Tartarus, the nethermost region\nof all. The world known to men was apportioned at the beginning of\nthe present age to the three sons of Kronos, Zeus obtaining the upper\nworld, including heaven, which is at the top of Mount Olympus in\nThessaly; Poseidon the sea, and Hades the under-world, above\nTartarus, to which men go after death.\n\nZeus rules in Olympus. He presides there over those gods who are at\npresent in power. He summons them to council, he sits at meals with\nthem. They are a very human set of beings. They are moved by ordinary\nhuman motives; love and revenge, jealousy and anger, rule in their\nbreasts. They do not act from eternal principles, but as men do, from\nsudden impulses or from the desire of temporary advantages for\nthemselves or for their favourites. They even indulge in loose\namours, and are brought into ridiculous situations. They laugh at\neach other; the stronger god hurls the weaker out of Olympus to the\nearth. Taking them together, we do not find the Olympians an\nimpressive set of beings. Taking them, however, one by one, we judge\nof them quite differently. The individual gods represent lofty ideals\nand are not unworthy of worship. Whatever they were once, powers of\nnature, fetishes or men, whatever village legends they have brought\nwith them from their native place, or whatever traits of savage life\nstill cleave to them, to the poet they are the embodiments of various\nmoral excellences. Zeus, father of gods and men, combines in his\ncharacter the attributes of righteousness and of kindness; he is the\nfounder of social order and the defender of suppliants, he possesses\nall wisdom. Hera is the matron of fully unfolded beauty and matchless\ndignity; Apollo is the faithful son who carries out his father's\ncounsel; Athene is the warrior-maiden skilled in battle but equipped\nwith every kind of skill, best counsellor and guide for the mortal\nwhom she favours; Aphrodite is the goddess of love, in whose girdle\nare contained all charms; Ares is the impetuous warrior, Hermes the\ntrusty messenger, of the heavenly circle; Hephaestus, the lame and\nawkward smith, is the artificer for the gods of all manner of cunning\nwork in metal. Around and under the Olympians are many other deities;\nsuch as Hebe, the budding girl, and Ganymede, the youth born of human\nrace but taken up to heaven for his beauty to minister to the gods at\ntheir banquets. Aphrodite is attended by the graces, Apollo by the\nMuses, and the world is not stripped by Homer of its local deities,\nalthough the chief deities now dwell aloft; mountains, rivers, caves\nand isles of ocean, all have their immortal occupants.\n\nWorship in Homer.--The gods being of such a nature, what relations\ndoes man keep up with them, and how do they affect his life? Worship\nfollows the simple practice of the early world. It is not priestly.\nThere are priests, and they offer sacrifices regularly at the shrines\nof which they have charge, but the king can sacrifice, or the head of\nthe house; and while one or two temples are mentioned in the _Iliad_,\nsacrifice may be offered anywhere. Temples first appear in Greece\nmerely as shelters for images, but in the _Iliad_ the god is\ngenerally worshipped not by means of an image but as himself directly\npresent; the need of temples has not yet arisen. In the _Odyssey_\ntemples of the gods are spoken of as buildings no town could be\nwithout, but this is less primitive. Sacrifice is a feast in which\nthe god's portion of the viands is first offered to him, and the\nworshippers then eat and drink to their hearts' content. There is a\ndetailed description of the proceedings in _Iliad_ i. 456 _sqq._ Here\nafter the feast there is music; \"All day long worshipped they the god\nwith music, singing the beautiful paean to the Fardarter (Apollo); and\nhis heart was glad to hear.\" \"The gods appear manifest amongst us,\"\nwe read in the seventh book of the _Odyssey_, \"whensoever we offer\nglorious hecatombs, and they feast by our side, sitting at the same\nboard.\" There is nothing of the nature of an expiation about such a\nsacrifice; it is simply the renewal of the bond between the god and\nthose who look for his aid, when a new enterprise is about to be\nundertaken or a solemn engagement is entered on. Prayers are very\nsimple. Thus prays the wounded Diomede to Athene (_Iliad_ v. 115):\n\"Hear me, daughter of aegis-bearing Zeus, unwearied maiden! If ever in\nkindly mood thou stoodest by my father in the heat of battle, even so\nbe thou kind to me, Athene! Grant me to slay this man, and bring\nwithin my spear-cast him that took advantage to shoot me, and\nboasteth over me!\"\n\nAs there are no bad gods, good and evil are considered to be sent by\nthe same beings. Thus there is a great deal of uncertainty in men's\nrelations to the gods. \"All men need the gods,\" we read; the Homeric\nhero regards the companionship of a god as proper and necessary for\nhis enterprises. But some trouble must be taken in order to secure\ntheir favour. They must not be neglected; their signs must be\nattended to; above all, a man must be reverent and must studiously\npractise moderation in his conduct and in his ways of thinking; else\nthe gods may easily be offended or made jealous, and withdraw their\ncountenance. And if they are to a certain extent capricious, there is\nanother consideration which impairs confidence in them. They are not\nall-powerful. There is a point beyond which they cannot give a man\nany help. Each man has a fate or destiny, which the gods did not fix\nand with which they cannot interfere. When his hour comes, they must\nleave him to his doom; indeed they may even deceive him, and lead him\ninto folly so that his fate shall overtake him. The punishment of\ncrime, both in this world and afterwards, is committed to a special\nset of beings, the Erinnyes. The gods who are most worshipped do not\nexercise that function; they are not immovably identified with the\nmoral order of the world, but frequently deviate from it themselves.\nIn the _Odyssey_, it is true, we meet with a deeper feeling. Here\nZeus is a kind of providence, in whom a man may trust when he does\nright, and to all whose dispensations it behoves him humbly to\nsubmit. A root of monotheism is present here, as in all the Aryan\nreligions from the first, and in Greece it is destined to have a\nstately growth. The Homeric pantheon, however, as a whole, shows\nreligion at a stage in which it is rather an external ornament to\nlife than an inner inspiration. Perhaps there was never a set of real\nmen who thought of the gods and addressed them according to the\nfashion of Homer. If such a religion ever actually existed, it was\nnot a strong one. These gods, with their caprices and infirmities and\ntheir limited power, could never exercise any strong moral influence\nor rouse any passion in their worshippers. They are fair-weather\ngods; the religion is one of children, in whom conscience is not yet\nawake and the deeper spiritual needs have not yet appeared. What the\nmind of the Greek has done up to this stage is to discover that\nnature is not above him; the powers of nature are human to him; they\nare divine not because they are essentially different from himself,\nbut because they are matchless ideals of his own qualities. It is a\nreligion of free men. But the Greek has not yet discovered how\ndifferent he himself is from all that is around him; that element of\nhimself which is above nature will when he discovers it make such a\nreligion as the Homeric for ever impossible to him.\n\nOmens.--As the godhead is never far away from the Homeric Greek, and\nis an active being who takes an interest in human affairs, signs of\nhis presence are not infrequent. The air is the scene of them; in the\nflight of birds, in sudden noises, the gods send messages; lightning\nis a sign from Zeus of approaching rain or hail, it may be of\napproaching war. There are rules for the interpretation of signs,\nwhich, however, are in many cases of doubtful significance. Dreams\nalso are a favourite channel for divine communications, but they also\nmay be interpreted wrongly. There are persons who have a special gift\nfor knowing the divine will; the seer ([Greek: mantis]) is\nenlightened by the deity not by an outward sign but inwardly; he\nhears the god's voice, and can declare the divine will directly. This\ngift may reside in a certain family, and may be attached to a certain\nspot, where a regular oracle is open for consultation. At Dodona we\nread that the Selloi or Helloi, a band or family of priests of\nascetic habits, interpret the rustling of the sacred oak, and\nAgamemnon consults the Pythia, the Delphic priestess, before the\nTrojan war.\n\nThe State after Death.--With regard to the state after death, belief\nis not uniform in Homer. There are elaborate funeral rites which\npoint to the assumption that the spirit of the hero is living\nsomewhere and needs various things. But the life of the departed was\nnot mapped out in Greece as it was in Egypt. The ritual of Mycenae had\nlittle influence, for the funeral celebrations in Homer are very\nsimilar to those of other early Aryan peoples, and undoubtedly were\nnot imported. What then is thought of the present existence of the\nhero? He has ceased to exist. The body is the man, the spirit when it\nhas left the body has but a shadow-life, without any strength or\nhope; at the most it may revive a little at the taste of blood. But\nwhile the worship of the departed is seen from Homer to be decaying\namong the Greeks, imagination is seen to be occupied in more than one\ndirection with the regions where they are, and to be asserting for\nthem a more real and active existence than the old beliefs allowed.\nThe subterranean kingdom of Hades (the \"Invisible\") is acquiring\nclearer shape. The punishments are described which certain great\ntransgressors, such as Tantalus and Ixion, are there undergoing; and\nother details are also known. Of a different spirit is the conception\nof the Elysian plains in the far west, whither the hero is taken by\nthe gods when he dies, and where there is no snow nor storm nor rain.\n\nHomer was not the only poet who furnished the Greeks with a system of\ntheir gods; nor was his system everywhere accepted without demur.\nHesiod, writing in the latter half of the eighth century B.C., gives\na \"theogony\" or birth of the gods, which is also a genesis or origin\nof the world, for to the Greek mind the gods and the world came into\nexistence together. He complains of those who on this subject have\ntaught fictions which resemble truths, referring perhaps to Homer.\nHis own system of the world is not a light and airy fabric but a\nlaborious work, due no doubt to professional or priestly industry, in\nwhich the attempt is made to treat all the divine figures or\nhalf-figured spirits the Greeks knew, genealogically, and to give a\ncomplete enumeration of them. Myths are given, some of them of a\nhorrible character, which do not occur in Homer. The battle of the\ngods with the Titans occupies a large part of the poem, and it\nconcludes with a collection of stories showing the descent of heroes\nfrom alliances between gods and mortals. This work, as we saw, was\nconsidered, along with the Homeric poems, as a standard authority on\nthe subject of the gods, and was appealed to even in the early\nChristian centuries as showing what the Greeks believed.\n\nThe Poets and the Working Religion.--The work of these poets proves\nthat the Greeks in their days were anxious to arrive at clear and\nharmonious conceptions about the gods. The movement on which Homer\nand Hesiod set their seal, of fixing the characters and attributes of\nthe various deities, must have been long going on; and it led, as we\nsee, to different results in different places. That labour when\naccomplished endowed Greece with a new religion. The local rite still\nwent on, which acknowledged no central authority and presented the\nspectacle of an infinite diversity. Each city carried on in grave and\nsolemn fashion the traditional worship of its own gods, on whose\nfavour its prosperity depended. The other gods of the Pantheon the\ncity did not need to worship; and moreover local worship was\naddressed to a large extent to the Chthonian or earth-gods, as\nDemeter and Dionysus, of whom the epic poems know but little. The\npoets were of little assistance therefore to the working religion;\nbut on the other hand the happy and beautiful deities of Homer found\nentrance wherever poetry was loved. This was a religion for all\nGreece; these gods were national; though some of them belonged\noriginally to Aeolia, they had become national by being enshrined in\npoetry which the whole nation regarded as its own. The Homeric\nconception of deity acted therefore on the whole Greek mind; all gods\nrose in rank by the example, a subject was set before the mind of the\npeople, which the closely succeeding development of religious art\nshows to have been studied in the noblest way.\n\nRise of Religious Art.--The seventh century B.C. was a period of\nrapid development and of great prosperity in Greece. It was the age\nof colonisation; manufacture and trade were active, and though the\nPhenicians were not now in the Egean, Greeks sailed to the East and\nbrought home with them many ideas. It was a time like the sixteenth\ncentury in Europe, when the world of geography was quickly opening\nout, and views and sentiments were also widening. Worship could not\nfail to share in the upward movement of such a period, and it is here\nthat we find the appearance of the ideas in religious art which have\nmade Greece the envy of the world. Architecture received a new\nimpulse from Egypt and Babylon; dwellings were built, not for human\nrulers, as in the Mycenaean period, but for the gods. In country\ndistricts or small towns the wooden shed might still suffice to\nshelter the rude image, but in large towns, where the higher\nconception of the gods and the artistic impulse were both present in\nmany minds, temples of more durable material were built. This came to\nbe a universal practice; among the first tasks of a new colony was\nalways that of erecting on a commanding site in the rising town,\nsplendid temples to the gods of the mother city. The Greek temple is\nnot a place to accommodate a large body of worshippers, but a\ndwelling for the god. It is of oblong shape, and is placed on a\nraised platform which is ascended by steps. It is generally\nsurrounded by pillars, is roofed, and has a low gable at each end.\nThe most important chamber in it is that containing the image of the\ngod. From his dim chamber the god looks out to the east through the\ndoorway facing him, which opens on the pillared portico in front.\nHere the worshipper stands when praying, his face turned westward to\nthe god. As it was essential that the smoke of the sacrifice should\nascend freely to heaven, the god's real dwelling, the altar stood\noutside. In some cases the roof was partly open, and the altar could\nstand under the sky in the _cella_ of the god.\n\nIn the building and adornment of the temples Greek art found its\nhighest exercise. The architecture of those specimens which can still\nbe seen or described is of a dignity and beauty never before\nattained; the beings must have been lofty and reverend indeed for\nwhom such dwellings were formed. The gable spaces and the flat\nsurfaces between the tops of the pillars and the roof gave\nopportunity for sculpture; and the archaeologist traces on these\nmetopes (spaces between the beam-ends under the roof) and friezes,\nthe progress of Greek sculpture from a rude stage to that in which\nthe sculptor has gained complete mastery over his material, and can\ngive an imposing representation of a myth, or place on the marble a\ncomplete religious procession of brave men and fair women. The images\nof the gods to be placed in the temples called forth the artist's\nhighest skill; even when the rude old god was retained, a fine work\nof art could also find place. It is the ideal gods of poetry that are\ncoming to be worshipped; the conception of the poet is expressed in\nmarble. Sculpture, however, came to its highest point in Greece\nsomewhat later than architecture. And offerings were made to the\ntemples of just such rare and costly things as men loved then and\nlove still to store up in their houses,--bowls and cups wrought\ncuriously in precious metals, statues and tapestries and all kinds of\ntreasure.\n\nFestivals and Games.--The temple for which so much was done, formed\nthe centre of the city where it stood. In it the town deposited its\ntreasure and its documents; there oaths and agreements were ratified.\nThere also at certain times, such as the annual festival of the god\nor the anniversary of some happy event in the history of the\ntown,--and as time went on such occasions tended to multiply,--the\ntown kept holiday. Women escaped from their monotonous confinement\nand joined the procession to the holy place, perhaps carrying a new\ndress for the deity. A sacrifice was offered, the god received his\nshare of the victim or victims, and the worshippers feasted on what\nremained. But before this part of the proceedings arrived there was a\npause, which was filled up with various exercises all connected with\nthe act of worship, but tending also in a high degree to the delight\nof those taking part in it. Dancing formed a part of every rite,\naccompanied of course with music, and consisting not of a careless\nexercise of the limbs, but of a measured and carefully trained set of\nmovements expressive of the emotions connected with the occasion.\nThis part of the religious act is obviously capable of great\nexpansion. We find the art of poetry also making its contributions to\nreligious art; poems are recited bearing on the history of the god.\nThe sacrifice is followed by contests of various kinds; the singers\ncompete for a prize, and athletic sports also take place, the\ncompetitors for which have long been in training for them. The\nwinners are crowned with a wreath or branch of the plant sacred to\nthe god. The games of Greece, which thus arose out of acts of\nworship, and some of which became so famous and attracted competitors\nfrom every Greek-speaking land, are a notable sign of the spirit of\nGreek piety. There is no asceticism in Greek religion; the god is\nrepresented as a beautiful human person, and his worshippers appear\nbefore him naked, in the fulness of their youthful beauty and of\ntheir well-trained vigour, and offer him their strength and skill in\nhighest exercise;--the whole city, or a crowd much larger than the\ncity, rejoicing in the spectacle.\n\nThus does Greek religion enlist in its service all the arts, and\nincrease as they increase. At this period irrational manifestations\nof piety tend to disappear, human sacrifice and the worship of\nanimals are heard of afterwards only in remote quarters. The religion\nwhich now prevails is a bright and happy self-identification with a\nbeing conceived as a type of human beauty and excellence, by being as\nfar as possible beautiful oneself, creating beautiful objects,\ncomposing beautiful verse, training the body to its highest pitch of\nstrength and agility, and displaying its powers in manly contests.\nThis conception of religion, for a short time realised in Greece,\nstill haunts the mind as a vision which once seen can never be\nforgotten. No one whose eyes have opened to that vision can regard\nany religious acts in which the effort after harmony and beauty forms\nno part, as other than degraded and unworthy.\n\nZeus and Apollo.--It is impossible here to enter specially on the\nworship of the individual gods. Two of the gods, however, the same\nwho even in Homer stand above the level of the rest, still maintain\nthat superiority. Zeus draws to himself more and more all the\nattributes of pure deity; his name comes more and more to stand\nsimply for \"God,\" as if there were no other. He is the father of gods\nand men; goodness and love are natural to him. He is the supreme\nRuler and Disposer, whose word is fate and whose ways pious thought\nfeels called to justify; but he is also the Saviour, to whom every\none may appeal. He is the source of all wisdom; all revelations come\nfrom him. The other god who occupies a marked position is Apollo, the\ngod of light and the prophet of his father Zeus. His oracle at Delphi\nwas the most important in Greece; it was held to be the centre of the\nearth, and was a meeting-place for Greeks from every quarter. His\npriests exercised through the oracle a great influence on Greek life,\nand as their god required strict purity and truthfulness and was the\ninspirer of every kind of art and of none but noble purposes, the\nworship of Apollo is one of the highest forms of Greek religion.\n\nChange of the Greek Spirit in the Sixth Century B.C.--But the time\nwas at hand when the worship of the gods of the poets was to prove,\nin spite of all that art had done for it, inadequate to meet the\nspiritual needs of Greece. Civilisation advances in the sixth century\nB.C. with immense rapidity; the Greeks, no longer prompted by any\nforeign influence, quickly learn to exercise their own powers, and to\napply them in new directions. Life grows richer and deeper, new modes\nof sentiment appear, the nation grows more conscious of its unity,\nand at the same time the individual learns to value himself more\nhighly and to assert himself more strongly. On one side thought\nawakes to an independent career and traditional beliefs are subjected\nto criticism; on the other spiritual needs are felt which the old\nworship does not satisfy, and for which religion has to find new\noutlets.\n\nIt is far beyond our scope to deal with the religious movements of a\npeople thus passing into the self-conscious stage, and unfolding with\nunparalleled freshness and power all the various activities of the\nhuman mind. We can only point out a few of the lines of development\nwhich become prominent at this period. And firstly we notice the rise\nof _rationalism_, that is of the impulse to criticise belief and to\nask for that element in it which approves itself to the reflecting\nmind. Reason asserts its right to judge of tradition; the doubter\nsuggests emendations in the legend; the piously inclined turn their\nattention to those parts only which are capable of lofty treatment.\nThis tendency is fatal to polytheism. As reason knows not gods but\nonly God, the gods can only hold their place on condition that they\nare what God must be, and so they all tend to become alike in their\ncharacter; attention is turned most of all to Zeus, the highest god,\nand when others are worshipped, it is as his prophets or delegates.\nThe poets of the fifth century reflect the conviction which all the\nhigher minds of their country were now coming to hold, that the world\nis under the rule of one god. From this they are led to take up the\nquestions of theodicy or of the principles of the divine government.\nAeschylus and Sophocles, writing perhaps about the same time as the\nauthor of the Book of Job, are full of problems of this nature. Why\nis Prometheus, though the noblest benefactor of the human race,\ndoomed to undergo such sufferings? Why does a curse cleave to a\ncertain house, evil producing evil from generation to generation?\nWhat is the relation between the divine laws which are written in the\nhearts of all men, and human laws which sometimes contradict these\nolder ones? Thus to the educated Greeks of the fifth century the old\nreligion had in its essence passed away. With unexampled rapidity had\nthe journey here been traced which India made more slowly, which\nEgypt made at a very early period, but was not able to maintain, and\nwhich every people starting from polytheism must make if their\nreligion is to prosper.\n\nNew Religious Feeling; the Mysteries.--But the conscience as well as\nthe mind of Greece awakes at this period, and Greek religion becomes\ninspired with a deeper feeling. The simple objectivity of the Homeric\nspirit is gone in which man could frankly worship beings like himself\nand not very far above himself. God at this time is growing greater\nand more awful, and man, less certain of himself, is beginning to\nfeel a new sense of mystery and of shortcoming. Whether it was due to\nthe anxiety and depression felt in Greece during the century before\nthe Persian wars, or to foreign influences, or mainly to the natural\ngrowth of the Greek mind itself, religious phenomena of a new kind\nnow appear. Sacrifices are heard of, which are not merely social\nreunions with the deity, but are intended to expiate some guilt or to\nremove some pollution. The sense of sin has arisen, which the Homeric\nworld knows not, and gives a new colour to man's converse with the\ndeity. Another new feature is the rise into prominence of cults in\nwhich man feels himself taken possession of and inspired by his god.\nSome of these belonged to Asia Minor, the great centre of worships\naccompanied with ecstasy and frenzy, but some were of native growth.\nIn these the common man found a satisfaction which the stately\nceremonial of the temples did not afford. The official religion had\ngrown cold and distant; but in the worship of Demeter or Dionysus, as\nafterwards of the Phrygian Cybele, the \"Great Mother\" whom the Romans\nimported, the least educated could feel the joy of enthusiasm and of\nself-forgetting under the influence of the god, and could be closely\nidentified with the object of worship by performing acts in which the\nexperience of the god was symbolically repeated.\n\nThe rapid rise of the worships of Demeter and Dionysus thus furnishes\nan instance of the law that a religion of intellect and of art is apt\nto be confronted, even when it appears to have overcome all\nobstacles, by a religion of feeling, in which all the fair progress\nthat was made appears to be entirely set at naught. When the worship\nof Zeus, Apollo, and Athene was coming to its highest splendour,\nthese cults began to spread rapidly. They were originally peasant\nrites of unknown antiquity in Attica and Boeotia, in which, after the\nmanner of rustic festivals, the coming of spring or the dying of the\nyear were celebrated amid jest and song, and with certain prescribed\nactions in which the fortune of the god, corresponding to the season,\nwas dramatically set forth. In spring Demeter, the mother goddess,\nreceived her daughter Persephone, who had left her for the winter; or\nin autumn Dionysus, the god of vegetation, was defeated by his\nenemies and driven away or torn in pieces. These worships, when\ndeveloped and forming a prominent part of Greek religion, were called\n\"mysteries,\" not because the knowledge of them was confined to few,\nbut because some parts of them were transacted in deep silence, and\nwere the objects of such awe and reverence that they were not spoken\nof. No one, moreover, could assist at these rites without being\nsolemnly initiated after a period of probation and purification. Of\nthe Eleusinian mysteries at least, which were the most widely\ndiffused and which formed part of the state religion of Athens,\nancient writers agree in their report that the course of training\nbefore admission was powerfully elevating and solemnising, so that\nthe period of initiation was the highest point of the religious life.\nIt was a condition that the candidate should be pure in heart and not\nconscious of any crime. There was apparently no doctrinal\ninstruction; everything was to be inferred from the spectacle. The\nmind was kept in a state of intense and devout expectation, knowledge\nand insight growing, it was held, as the time of admission came near.\nBefore the final act there came a period of fasting, then a march\nfrom Athens to Eleusis along the sacred way, which was studded with\nshrines; then a search for the lost goddess in the dark of a moonless\nnight on the plains of Eleusis, and then at last admission to the\nbrightly-lighted building. Here all the arts were enlisted to furnish\na spectacle of unparalleled magnificence, during which the candidate\nwas allowed to touch and kiss certain sacred objects of a simple\nnature, and repeated a solemn formula at his admission.\n\nBy partaking in these rites a man was believed to part with his\nformer sins, to form a special union with the deity, in whose nature\nhe was made to partake, and to be started on a career in which he\ncould not fail to grow morally better. It is easy to see the immense\nsuperiority of this worship to the official rites of the temples. The\ngreat point is that a new principle of religious association is here\nintroduced. The tie which binds the worshipper to his god and to his\nfellow-worshippers is no longer that of blood or of common political\ninterests, but the higher one of a common spiritual experience. All\nGreeks were eligible for initiation at Eleusis. A man was not born\ninto this circle, but entered it of his own free will and by means of\nvoluntary effort and self-denial. A community of a higher order thus\nmakes its appearance in Greek history, in which the limits of race\nand of locality are overstepped, and each is connected with the rest,\nbecause all have turned of their own voluntary motion to the same\nideal centre. The analogies between the community formed on the\nmysteries and the Christian Church are too obvious to need to be\ninsisted on. The adversaries of Christianity asserted that in the\nmysteries all the truths and the whole morality of that religion were\nto be found.\n\nReligion and Philosophy.--But while the mysteries met to some extent\nthe craving for a closer union with deity, another need which had\nlong been growing in the Greek mind was to be satisfied in a very\ndifferent manner. The Greek religion we have described had very\nlittle to offer in the way of doctrine. There are no sacred books in\nit, there is no theology, there is no religious instruction. When the\nmind of Greece awoke to intellectual life, and the demand was made\nfor an explanation of the world, and for a view of the origin of\nthings which should explain man to himself, the Greek religion was\nmanifestly little fitted to meet such a demand. But man has\neverywhere looked to religion to do him this service, and a religion\nwhich is incapable of rendering it, or which like Buddhism explicitly\nrefuses to take up the task, stands in a perilous position. If the\nshrine has no doctrine enabling man to understand the origin and the\nconnection of things, he will seek such a doctrine elsewhere, and\nreligion will have no control over it. Another alternative is that of\nBuddhism where in default of such a doctrine man is condemned to\nsubside into intellectual apathy.\n\nThis, however, could never be the case with the Greeks, and their\nfate in this respect proved different from that of any other people.\nAfter their intellectual awakening took place, and when they had\nbegun to seek in every direction for a first principle of all things,\nnever doubting that the world was a system of reason, but trying one\nkey after another to unlock its secret, we find that religion itself\nbecame aware of the need of the times, and that the attempt was made,\nlate in the day but with deep earnestness and great ability, to\nconstruct out of the myths a reasoned account of the origin of\nthings. This was the aim of the Orphic poets. Orpheus, the mythical\nsinger of Thrace, who charmed men and beasts with his songs on earth,\nhad descended into Hades to fetch back his wife, who had been taken\nfrom him, and had beheld the secrets of the under-world. The school\nwhich was named after him dealt with the deepest problems, and sought\nto explain both the nature of the gods and the destiny of the human\nsoul. It insisted strongly on the power and sole headship of Zeus, in\nwhom Greek religion had possessed from Homer downwards a figure\nfitted for a monotheistic position. \"Zeus is the head, Zeus the\nmiddle, from Zeus are all things made. He is male and female, he is\nthe foundation of the earth and of the starry heaven, the breath in\nall, the strength of fire, the root of the sea, sun, and moon. Zeus\nis the king, the progenitor of all things.\" The god Dionysus also is\nplaced by the Orphic writers at the head of the whole process of\ncreation. The myth of his dismemberment and of the scattering of his\nashes over the whole world is made to symbolise the great thought of\nthe connection of all things with the same source of life.\nDescriptions were also given, answering to the growing sense of\npersonal responsibility, of the abodes of Hades and of the fate of\nsouls there, and of the metempsychoses through which the soul must\npass. This teaching had an influence which it is difficult to\nmeasure; it acted on the tragedians in their magnificent attempts to\nreform the beliefs of their country by making them moral; it is to be\ntraced in Plato, it also found expression in the mysteries. In its\nown development it gave rise to a new phenomenon in Greek religion,\nthat of itinerant preachers who went about appealing to individuals\nto take thought for the salvation of their souls, and also, strange\nto say, offering private charms and spells to put them on the right\nway of salvation.\n\nBut Greek religion was not thus to be reformed. It was not from the\npriests that the growth of the higher faith of Greece was to proceed,\nbut from the philosophers. While much of the teaching of the\nphilosophers was apparently negative and destructive of faith,--for\nGreece had her religious sceptics who turned the shafts of ridicule\non existing beliefs, her Agnostics who considered that nothing\ncertain could be affirmed about the gods, and even her secularists\nwho held religion to be a mere invention of priests and rulers for\ntheir own purposes,--the course of Greek philosophy was, on the\nwhole, constructive, even in matters of faith, and laboured to\nprovide religion with a stable foundation in thought. In this great\nmovement of the human mind the thinkers of Greece--Socrates, Plato,\nAristotle, to name no more--were working at the same problem which\noccupied the prophets of Israel, and building up the rule of one God,\na Being supremely wise and good, source of all beauty, and the worker\nof all that is wrought in the universe, in place of the many fickle\nand weak deities who formerly bore sway. In many ways the schools of\nGreece were the forerunners of Christianity. As the Jews, carried far\nfrom their temple, form a new principle of religious association and\nlearn to meet for the service of God, without any sacrifice, in pious\nmental exercises, so the Greeks, for whom their temples could do so\nlittle, form little communities of earnest seekers after truth under\nsome teacher. The philosopher's discourse is held by students of the\nearly Christianity of the West to be the model on which the Christian\nsermon was formed. Some of the schools even developed a true pastoral\nactivity, exercising an oversight of their members, and seeking to\nmould their moral life and habits according to the dictates of true\nwisdom.\n\nThus there arose on Greek soil, after the temples had grown cold,\nwhat may truly be called a second Greek religion. It took possession\nof the Roman world, and was, when Christianity appeared, the\nprevailing form of religion among the more educated. Both in its\noutward forms of association, in its doctrine of God, which went\nthrough later developments very similar to those of Judaism, and in\nits concentration of thought on ethical problems and on the moral\nlife of the individual, it powerfully prepared for Christianity. It\nwas not a religion, for it had neither any historical root nor any\nbelief and practice definite enough for the guidance of the common\npeople. Yet Christianity could not have conquered the world without\nit.\n\n\nBOOKS RECOMMENDED\n\nE. Meyer, _Geschichte des Alterthums_, vol. ii., contains the first\nattempt to deal with Greek religion in the manner now required.\n\nThe Histories of Greece of Grote, Curtius, Abbott, and Holm.\n\nRoscher, _Lexikon der griechischen, a Romischen Mythologie_.\n\nDyer, _The Gods of Greece_.\n\nGardner and Jevons, _Manual of Greek Antiquities_, 1895.\n\nL. R. Farnell, _The Cults of the Greek States_, 1896-1907.\n\nNaegelsbach, _die Homerische Theologie_.\n\nWilliamowitz, _Homerische Untersuchungen_.\n\nG. Anrich, _das Antike Mysterienwesen_.\n\nRohde, _Psyche_, 1891.\n\nL. Campbell's Gifford Lectures on _Religion in Greek Literature_,\n1898.\n\nE. Caird, _The Evolution of Theology in the Greek Philosophers_,\n1904.\n\nHolwerda, in De la Saussaye, Third Edition.\n\nRamsay on \"Religion of Greece and Asia Minor\" in Hastings' _Bible\nDictionary_.\n\nS. Reinach, in _Oxford Proceedings_, vol. ii. p. 117, _sqq._\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XVII\nTHE RELIGION OF ROME\n\n\nThe Romans themselves at a certain period in their history identified\ntheir own gods with those of Greece, and borrowed largely both from\nGreek ritual and Greek mythology, so that they came to the conclusion\nthat the Roman and the Greek religions were essentially the same. To\nthe early Christian writers the religions of Greece and Rome form one\nsystem; and the world has retained the impression that there was one\nold pagan religion which assumed certain local differences in the two\ncountries, but was substantially the same in both.\n\nRoman Religion was different from Greek.--Now the fact is that while\nGreek religion conquered Rome, Italy had an older religion of its\nown, which was not annihilated by the more brilliant newcomer, but\nremained beside it and never entered into entire fusion with it. The\nRomans were not a thinking so much as an organising race; in politics\nthey were far ahead of the rest of the world, but in thought and\nimagination they were children; and so it happened that they borrowed\nideas and usages from neighbours on this side and on that, and\norganised the whole into a system they could use, the organism being\ntheir own, but only little of the contents.\n\nWe must therefore inquire, in the first place, as to the religion the\nRomans had before they came under the influence of Greek ideas. Their\nearliest religion is to be traced in the calendar of their sacred\nyear, in the lists of gods preserved for us in the writings of the\nfathers, and in numberless usages and institutions descended from\nearly times.\n\nThe sacred year of early Rome is that of an agricultural community.\nThe festivals have to do with sowing and reaping and storing corn,\nwith vintage, with flocks and herds, with wolves, with spirits of the\nwoods, with boundaries, with fountains, with changes of the sun and\nof the moon. There are festivals of domestic life, of the household\nfire, and of the spirits of the storeroom, of the spirits of the\ndeparted, and of the household ghosts. There are also festivals\nconnected with warlike matters, some connected with the river and the\nharbour at its mouth, and some having to do with the arts of a simple\npopulation. The calendar, taken by itself, would create the\nimpression that the community using it began with agriculture and\nadded to it afterwards various other activities; there is nothing in\nit to contradict the supposition that Roman religion had its\nbeginnings in the fields and in the woods.\n\nThe earliest gods of Rome also agree with this. They are, however, a\nvery peculiar set of gods. Leaving the great gods in the meantime, we\nnotice two of the agricultural deities; there is a Saturnus, god of\nsowing, and a Terminus, god of boundaries. These are what are called\nfunctional deities, such as we met with in Greece, see chapter xvi.;\nthey take their name from the act or province over which they\npreside. Saturnus means one who has to do with sowing; Terminus is a\nboundary pure and simple. The god then, in these examples, is not a\ngreat being who has come to have these functions placed under him as\nwell as others. He and the particular function belong together; he\nowes all his deity to it. Now these are only examples; the same is\nfound to be the case with all or nearly all the distinctively Roman\ngods; they are, broadly speaking, all functional beings. Each bears\nthe name of an object or a process; and on the other hand there is no\nobject and no act which has not its god. It is astounding to observe\nhow far the principle of the division of labour is carried among\nthese beings. Silvanus is the god of the wood, Lympha of the stream,\neach wood and each stream having its own Silvanus or Lympha. Seia has\nto do with the corn before it sprouts, Segetia with corn when shot\nup, Tutilina with corn stored in the granary, Nodotus has for his\ncare the knots in the straw. There is a god Door, a goddess Hinge, a\ngod Threshold. Each act in opening infancy has its god or goddess.\nThe child has Cunina when lying in the cradle, Statina when he\nstands, Edula when he eats, Locutius when he begins to speak, Adeona\nwhen he makes for his mother, Abeona when he leaves her; forty-three\nsuch gods of childhood have been counted. Pilumnus, god of the\npestle, and Diverra, goddess of the broom, may close our small sample\nof the limitless crowd.\n\nIt is usually said about these multitudinous petty deities that the\nRoman was very religious, and saw in every act and everything for\nwhich he had a name, something mysterious and supernatural. The\nGreek, it is said, sees things on his own level, and adds to them a\ngod who is human; it is by the human spirit that he interprets them.\nThe Roman, on the contrary, sees things as mysteries and fills them\nwith gods who are not human. That is true; but the question to be\nasked about these Roman gods is, to what stage of religious\ndevelopment do they belong: do they prove a primitive or an advanced\nstage of religious thought? It has been observed that these names of\ngods are all epithets, or adjectives; and it has been supposed that\nthere was originally a noun belonging to them, that they were all\nepithets of one great deity, or, as some are masculine and some\nfeminine, of a great male and a great female deity. The noun fell out\nof use, it is supposed, but was still present to the mind of the\nRoman, and thus his regiments of divine names are not really\ndesignations of different persons, but titles of the same person,\nsupposed to be present alike in all these numberless manifestations.\nBut it is not easy to conceive how, if primitive Italy had reached\nthe conception of the unity of deity, that deity became so remarkably\nsubdivided, nor how his own proper name and character were lost. It\nis much more natural to suppose that the petty gods of Rome were all\nthe deities the early Latins had, and were worshipped for their own\nsake. They represent the stage of thought called Animism (see chapter\niii.) when every part of nature is thought to have its spirit, and\nthe number of invisible beings is liable to be multiplied\nindefinitely. While other Aryan races had passed beyond this stage\nwhen we first know them, and advanced to the belief in great gods\nruling great provinces of nature, the Latins, whose mind was\norganising rather than productive, made this advance more slowly, and\ninstead of making it organised the spiritual world of animism with a\nthoroughness nowhere else equalled.[1] They had, therefore, no gods\nproperly so called, but only a host of spirits. Even the beings they\npossessed, who afterwards became great gods, were at first no more\nthan functional spirits. Janus, afterwards one of the chief deities\nof Rome, is originally the \"spirit of opening\"; an abstraction\ncapable of great multiplication; a Janus could be invoked for each\nact of that kind. Vesta is the spirit of the hearth; each household\nhad its Vesta, both in early and in later times. Juno is not one but\nmany: as each man had his genius, a spiritual self accompanying or\nguarding him, so each woman had--not her genius, but her Juno. There\nwere many Vestas, many Junos; and it is only later that the great\ngoddess arises, who may be looked to from every quarter. Others of\nthe great gods of later Rome have a similar early history. Mars was\nat first the spirit which made the corn grow; Diana was a\ntree-spirit, Jovis or Diovis himself, though his name connects him\nwith the Greek Zeus and the Sanscrit Dyaus, and though he is\nafterwards, like these, the god of the sky, was originally in Latin a\nspirit of wine, and was worshipped, the Jovis of each village or each\nfarm, at the wine-feast in April when the first cask was broached.\nThus the gods of the Latins are not beings who have an independent\nexistence and features of their own; they are limited each to the\nparticular object or process from which he derives his character, and\nhave no realm beyond it. And the same is true of the family and\nhouse-gods, whose worship formed perhaps the principal part of the\nworking religion of the Roman. The Lares represent the departed\nancestors of the family; they dwell near the spot in the house where\nthey were buried, and still preside over the household as they did in\nlife. They are worshipped daily with prayers and offerings of food\nand drink; the family adore in them not so much the dead individuals,\nthough their masks hang on the wall, as the abstraction of its own\nfamily continuity. The Penates or spirits of the store-chamber are\nworshipped along with the Lares, they represent the continuity of the\nfamily fortune. A more general name for the departed is the Manes,\nthe kind ones; they are thought of as living below the earth; it is\nnot individuals who are worshipped at their festivals, but the dead\nin the abstract, the former upholders of the family or of the people.\n\n[Footnote 1: See on this Mr. Jevons's preface to Plutarch's _Romane\nQuestions_ (Nutt, 1892); which deserves to be published in a more\naccessible form.]\n\nThe character of Roman worship is determined by the nature of its\nobjects. As each of the gods has his basis in a material object or\naction, there can be no need of any images of them; where the object\nor the act is, there is the god, his character is expressed in it and\nnot to be expressed otherwise. Nor could such gods require any\ntemples. And what need of priests for them, when every one who knew\ntheir names (a great deal depended on that) could place himself in\ncontact with them as soon as he saw the object or took in hand the\naction behind which they stood? Nor can many stories be told about\ngods like these,--the Romans have no mythology. The beings they\nworship are not persons but abstractions. They have just enough\ncharacter to be male or female, but they cannot move about or act\nindependently of their natural basis; they cannot marry, nor breed\nscandal, nor make war. Nor can there be any motive for identifying\nwith such beings a great man who has died; where there are no true\ngods, there cannot be any demi-gods or heroes. Only a very limited\npower can possibly be put forth by such beings; all they can do is to\ngive or to withhold prosperity, each in the narrow section of affairs\nhe has to do with.\n\nThe aim of worship where such a set of beings is concerned, is to get\nhold of the spirit or god connected with the act one has in view, and\nso to deal with him as to avert his disfavour, which the Roman always\napprehended, and gain his concurrence. The house-gods are beings\npossessing a stated cult, but outside the house-cult the worshipper\nhas to face the question at each emergency which god he ought to\naddress. He might choose the wrong one, which would make his act of\nworship vain. If he names the god correctly he will have a hold on\nhim; in a case of uncertainty, therefore, he names a number of gods,\nin the hope that one of them will be the right one; or he invokes\nthem all. \"Whether thou be god or goddess\" he will further say, if he\nis in doubt on that point, \"or by whatever name thou desirest to be\ncalled.\" Each god has his proper style and title, and it is vain to\napproach him without these; lists of the various gods and of their\ncorrect styles were therefore drawn up in very early times to serve\nas guides to the subject. The Latin word \"indigito,\" to point out,\nfrom \"digitus,\" a finger, is the term used of addressing a god; the\nlists of deities with their proper appellations were called\n\"indigitamenta\"; and the gods named in them \"Dii indigetes.\" The act\nof worship is grave and formal; it has to be done with precision and\nin strict accordance with the rules; silence is commanded; the\nsacrificer repeats the prayer proper for the occasion after some one\nwho knows it by rote; the worshippers veil their heads. In this the\nRoman ritual is markedly different from the Greek. Mommsen says the\nGreek prayed bareheaded, because his prayer was contemplation,\nlooking at and to the gods; and the Roman with head covered, because\nhis prayer was an exercise of thought; and in this he sees a\ncharacteristic indication of the difference between the two\nreligions. A more modern interpretation of the Roman practice is that\nit arose from the fear that the worshipper might see the god whom he\nhas just summoned by name, which would be dangerous. If any mistake\nis made in worship, the act is vain and has to be done over again.\n\nThe Great Gods.--The foregoing is the logic of the system on which\nthe Roman religion, as distinguished from the foreign elements\nafterwards added to it, was based; the religion, however, does not\ncome into view historically till it has begun to rise above such a\nworship of abstractions or of petty spirits, towards a worship of\ngods. It was apparently by the growth of larger social organisms that\nthe Latin tribes advanced to the worship of greater gods. While the\nfamily religions continued to the end, the tribe had, as in the case\nof other early peoples, a larger religion than the family, and a\nunion of tribes produced a religion on a still greater scale. The\nhistory of early Rome consists of a succession of such fusions of\ntribes into a larger political whole. When history opens, \"Rome is a\nfully-formed and united city\"; but Rome is made up of several tribes,\nwhich maintain many separate institutions. The religion of after\ntimes bears witness to these successive unions. \"Deus Fidius,\" the\ngod of good faith, is the sacred impersonation of an alliance. Mars\nand Quirinus are precisely similar to each other, and each has a\nflamen, or blower of the sacrificial flame, and a staff of twelve\nsalii or dancers. Mars is the Roman, Quirinus the Sabine deity; and\nwe see that the two tribes had, before they were united, very similar\nworships, which were both kept up after the union. The feriae\nLatinae, or Latin festival, celebrated on Mons Albanus, is common to\nthe Latin tribes and commemorates their union. Jovis rises into\nimportance with the growth of city life; he comes to be called father\nJovis, Jupiter; there are many Jupiters, but the Jupiter of the city\nof Rome is the greatest and best of all; he bears the title of\nOptimus Maximus. He rises above Mars, in earlier times the first\nRoman god, after whom the first month of the year was called, before\nthe month of Janus and the month of Februus, the purifier, were added\nto it. Janus, the great state-god of opening, was the only one of\nwhom there was a representation; Mars was represented symbolically by\na spear, but Janus was figured as a man with two faces. Vesta, the\nhearth-goddess of the state, was of course a great deity with a very\nimportant worship.\n\nHere we must mention a side of Roman religion which no doubt has its\nroots far back in prehistoric darkness, but which could scarcely be\norganised as we find it till the greater gods had risen to some\ndegree of power. It was believed that the gods were constantly making\nsigns to men, especially in occurrences which take place in the air,\nsuch as thunder and lightning, and the flight of birds, but also in\nmany other ways. Some of the signs were simple, so that any one could\ntell if they were lucky or the reverse, but some were not to be\ninterpreted except by men possessing a special knowledge of the\nsubject. And such men might be asked by an individual or by the state\nwhen about to enter on any undertaking, to seek a sign from heaven\nconcerning that business. This became with the Romans a great and\nimportant act, and those who had it in their hands exercised great\npower.\n\nSacred Persons.--The priest in the earliest times was, in the\ndomestic religion, the paterfamilias, in that of the tribe, which was\nbut an extended household, the head of the leading family, and in the\ncity, which was constituted after the same model, the king. Religion\nwas the principal part of the service of the state; the king as such\nhad to offer sacrifice, to cause the gods to be consulted, to\nprosecute and judge and punish those who had violated the laws and\ncame under the anger of the gods. But as the state grew larger,\nvarious offices were set up to relieve the king of part of these\nduties; when new worships were added to the old ones, the care of\nthem was in some cases committed to a special person or college; and\nthese priesthoods and sacred guilds of early Rome maintained their\nplace in the constitution for many centuries, and carried on this\npart of the public service long after the words they spoke and the\nacts they did had become meaningless. Beginning with the sacred\npersons attached to special cults, we have, first, three flamens, one\nof Mars, one of Quirinus, and one of Jovis (fl. Martialis,\nQuirinalis, Dialis). Mars and Quirinus have their dancers, as we\nmentioned above. Other flamens of lower rank were afterwards\ninstituted for the separate worships of the tribes. Very old are the\n\"fratres arvales,\" field-brothers, who served the creative goddess\n(Dea Dia) in the country in the month of May, with a view to a good\ngrowing summer, dancing to her and addressing hymns to her which may\nbe read now but cannot be understood, and were unintelligible to the\nRomans themselves. The Luperci (wolf-men) held a shepherd's festival\nin the month of February, sacrificing goats and dogs to some rustic\ndeity, and running naked through the streets afterwards, striking\nthose they met with thongs cut from the hides of the victims. The six\nvestal virgins are well known, who had charge of keeping up the fire\nof Vesta, the house-fire of the state. They devoted their whole lives\nto this office, and enjoyed great respect. These priesthoods and\ncorporations, instituted to secure the continuance of special cults,\nare not of a nature to bring the whole of life under the influence of\nthe priests and so to foster a priestly type of religion. Nor were\nthose other religious offices of a nature to do so, which were not\nattached to special cults but served the more general purpose of\nassisting and advising the state in matters connected with religion.\nFirst among these comes the office of pontifex, a word which is\nvariously interpreted, either as \"bridge-maker,\"--that being a very\nimportant and solemn proceeding,--or as leader in a religious\nprocession. There were originally five pontifices, and the number was\nafterwards raised to fifteen. They exercised a great variety of\nfunctions, and had a general oversight of all religious matters, both\npublic and domestic. They were experts in ritual and in canon law;\nthey advised the state as to the proper sacrifices to be offered for\nthe public, and, when consulted, would also direct the private\nindividual. Funerals, marriages, and other domestic occurrences into\nwhich religious considerations entered, were under their charge; and\non the occurrence of portents and omens it was their duty to indicate\nthe steps to be taken in order to find out what the gods wished to\nsignify. They had charge of the calendar, and had to fix what days\nwere proper for carrying on the business of the courts (_dies\nfasti_), and they were the authorities on the forms of legal process.\nThe chief pontiff is called the \"judge and arbiter of things divine\nand human,\" and the college had manifestly a very strong position.\nThe same is true of the _augurs_ or experts in signs and omens.\nThough they did not consult the gods about public undertakings until\nthe magistrate or the general asked them to do so, they had power to\nstop proceedings of which they disapproved; and this at certain\nperiods of Roman history they very frequently did. In Cicero's\ntreatise on Divination a great deal of interesting matter may be\nfound on this subject. Another sacred college of somewhat later date\nis that of the men, at first three in number, afterwards fifteen, who\nacted as expounders of the sacred Sibylline books, which King Tarquin\npurchased from the old woman or Sibyl, of Cumae.\n\nRoman Religion Legal rather than Priestly.--While some of these\npriestly colleges exercised large powers, these powers were always\nregarded not as inherent but deputed. The sacred offices were not\nhereditary but elective; no course of training was necessary to\nqualify for them; men were chosen for them by the state as for any\nother public office, and those who became priests did not cease to be\ncitizens but continued to sit in the Senate, and, as it might happen,\nto hold other offices at the same time. The growth of a priestly\ncaste was thus effectively prevented; religion was precluded from\nhaving any free development of its own, and kept in the position of\nan instrument for the furtherance of ends of state. There is no great\nreligion in which ritual is so much, doctrine and enthusiasm so\nlittle. All these priests and colleges exist for no end but to carry\nout with strict exactitude the ritual usage which is deemed necessary\nto keep on good terms with the gods. They have no doctrine to teach,\nno fervour to communicate, they do not even tell any stories.\nPunctiliousness and anxiety attend all their proceedings. To the\nRoman, Ihne says, \"religion turns out to be the fear lest the gods\nshould punish them for neglect; any unusual occurrence may be a sign\nthat the gods are withdrawing their co-operation from the state, and\nthis must be looked into, and the due expiations used if judged\nnecessary.\" Ritual must always be carried out with the utmost\nprecision; it is not the goodwill of the worshipper but his\nexactitude that counts. He may even cheat the gods of their due if he\nis formally correct in his observance. For example, if the auspices\n(the signs derived from birds) were unfavourable, they could be\nrepeated till a better result was obtained.\n\nWhat we have described is the religion of Rome in its original form,\nbefore it accepted foreign modifications. Its gods are spirits of the\nwoods and fields, of the market, of the foray, of the treaty, of all\nthe aspects, in fact, which life had borne to the tribes of Central\nItaly, especially to the Latins and the Sabines who combined to form\nthe state of Rome. These gods form no family and have no history,\nthey do not, like the gods of Greece, lay hold of the imagination,\nnor, like those of Germany, of the affections. They are only dimly\nknown; but they are powerful, and it is necessary to reckon with\nthem; and the only relations which can be kept up with such beings\nare those of business and of law. It follows that this religion is\none of constraint and not of inspiration. In this it agrees with the\nRoman character, which is much more inclined to order than to\nfreedom, to law than to art. The word religion has here its origin;\nits primary meaning is restraint or check, since the chief feeling\nwith which the Roman regarded his gods was that of anxiety. Not that\nthe gods were bad; Vediovis, the bad counterpart of Jovis, is a\nvanishing figure,--but they were ill-known, and might have cause to\nbe angry. Worship, therefore, the practical cultivation of the\nfriendship of the gods, swallows up here the other elements of\nreligion as a whole. Religion does not free the forces of human\nnature to realise themselves in spontaneous activity, but enchains\nthem to the punctilious service of a nonhuman authority. Everything\nexciting is kept at a distance, and men are trained in obedience and\nscrupulousness and self-denial. They produce no beautiful works of\nart, and have hardly any stories to delight in; but they are reverent\nand conscientious; private feeling is sacrificed with an austere\nsatisfaction to the public interest, and they accordingly build up a\ngreat power. Living in an atmosphere of magic, where unseen dangers\nlurk on every side, and there is virtue in words and forms correctly\nused to avert these dangers, the Roman develops to perfection one\nside of religion. To its inspirations and enthusiasms and hidden\nconsolation he is a stranger; but he knows it better than others as a\nconservative and regulating force, which checks passion, calls for\nwary and orderly conduct, and causes the individual to subordinate\nhimself to the community.\n\nChanges introduced from without.--The Roman religion had, properly\nspeaking, no development. What it might have become had it been left\nto unfold itself without interference from without, we can only\nguess; but it was early brought under the influence of more highly\ndeveloped religions, and it proved to have so little power of\nresisting innovations that it speedily parted with much of its own\nnative character. The Romans were not unconscious that their religion\nwas an imperfect one; they never claimed, when they were conquering\nthe world, that their religion was the only true one, or had any\nmission to prevail over others. They were tolerant from the first of\nthe religions of other peoples. The gods of other peoples they always\nbelieved to be real beings, with whom it was well for them also to be\non good terms. If everything in the world had its spirit, these gods\nalso were the spirits of their own countries and nations; the very\nnotion of deity which the Romans entertained prevented them from\nhaving any exclusive belief in their own gods or from denying the\nright of the gods of others.[2] When therefore they came in contact\nwith foreign religions, they were not protected by any profound\nconviction of the truth of their own, and were exposed to the full\nforce of the new ideas. The new religions came to them along with the\nculture of peoples much further advanced in art and in thought than\nthey were themselves; at each such contact, therefore, they felt the\nforeigner to be superior to themselves in intellectual matters; and\nwherever this happens, the less highly gifted race is likely to\nchange in its religion as well as in other things. We have to note\nthe changes which were produced by such external influences.\n\n[Footnote 2: Cf. Celsus in Origen, _Contra Celsum_, vii. 68.]\n\nIn the first place, Rome borrowed from Etruria. Etruscan religion was\nboth more developed and more savage than that of Rome. Human\nsacrifice was an acknowledged feature of it; divination was carried\nto absurd lengths, one great branch of it consisting in the\nprediction of the future from the appearance of the entrails of\nslaughtered animals. Etruria had a hell with regular torments for the\ndeparted; in Rome the belief in a future life was much less definite.\nOn the other hand, Etruria had deities who were something more than\nabstractions; there was a circle of twelve gods, who held meetings on\nhigh, and regulated the affairs of the world. Above them was a power,\nlittle defined, to which the gods were subject, a kind of fate. Greek\ninfluence, so notably apparent in Etruscan art, is present, too, we\nsee, in Etruscan religion; it is through this somewhat dark passage\nthat Greek religious ideas first came to Rome. Under this influence\nvarious innovations took place at Rome. Before the end of the\nmonarchy the Romans had begun to build houses for their gods, after\nbeing for 170 years, we are told, without any such arrangement. The\nRoman \"templum\" was not originally a building, but a space marked\noff, according to the rules of augury, for the observation of signs.\nA part of the sky was also marked off for such \"observation\" and\n\"contemplation.\" On such a holy site, on the Capitoline hill, there\nwas founded by the earlier Tarquin the temple of Jupiter which always\ncontinued to be the principal site of Roman religion. Its\narchitecture was Tuscan; and it contained not only a cella or holy\nplace for the image of Jupiter Optimus Maximus, but also a cella for\nJuno and one for Minerva. The latter was both an Etruscan and a Roman\ndeity, the goddess of memory. Art was thus enlisted in the service of\nthe gods; the divine figures acquired a reality and distinctness\nquite wanting to the earlier divine abstractions; and a new notion of\ndeity was presented to the Roman mind. Other temples followed, to\nJupiter under other names than that which he had in the Capitol, and\nto other deities. That of Faith was a very early one. It was a rule\nin temple-building that the image in the cella faced the west, so\nthat the worshipper, praying towards it, faced the east. Here also\nthe Roman custom is a departure from the Greek; for in Greek temples\nit is the rule that the image faces the east, and the worshipper the\nwest. The Roman orientation of sacred buildings has passed into the\npractice of the Christian Church. From Etruria the Romans also\nderived a great addition to the rules of divination; but the more\nchildish parts of Etruscan divination were regarded at Rome as\nsuperstitious, though private persons might frequently resort to\nthem.\n\nGreek Gods in Rome.--While Greek ideas thus came indirectly from the\nnorth, the south of the peninsula was becoming more and more Greek,\nand the gods and temples of Hellas, established first at the\nsea-ports and colonies, gradually came to Rome. This movement is\nconnected with the Sibylline books which were acquired by the last of\nthe kings. These books were brought to Rome from the Greek town of\nCumae; they were written in Greek, and contained oracles which were\nascribed to an old Greek prophetess. They were consulted in grave\nemergencies of state through the officials who had charge of them,\nand what they generally prescribed was that a god should be sent for\nfrom Greece, and his worship set up in Rome. Many foreign worships\nwere thus imported. First came Apollo, disguised under the Latin name\nof Aperta, \"opener,\" for the books contained many of his oracles; he\nwas received and worshipped as a god of purification, since the state\nwas in need of that process at the time, as well as of prophecy. In\nthe year 496 B.C. came in the same way Demeter, Persephone, and\nDionysus, identified with the old Latin Ceres, Libera, and Liber;\nand, a century later, Heracles, identified with the Latin Hercules.\nIn the year 291, on the occurrence of a plague, Asclepios, in Latin\nAesculapius, was brought from Epidauros; and when the crisis of the\ncontest with Hannibal was at hand (204 B.C.) Cybele, the great mother\nof the gods, was fetched from Pessinus in Phrygia. The people of that\ntown generously handed over to the Roman ambassadors the field-stone\nwhich was their image of the goddess, and her journey to Rome had the\ndesired effect, in the expulsion of Hannibal from Italy. The Venus of\nMount Eryx in Sicily arrived in Rome about the same time; a goddess\ncombining the characters of Aphrodite and Astarte, and quite\ndifferent from the simple old Roman Venus, who was a goddess of\nSpring, and presided over gardens.\n\nThe process of which these are the outward landmarks went on during\nthe whole period of the Republic, and resulted in the substitution of\nwhat may be called with Mommsen the Graeco-Roman, for the old Roman\nreligion. The change was a very profound one. Not only were some new\ngods added to the old ones, not only did Greek art come to be\nemployed in Roman temples, not only were new rites introduced, such\nas the _lectisternium_, in which couches were arranged, each with the\nimage of a god and that of a goddess, and tables spread to regale the\nrecumbent deities. The very notion of deity was changed; the Greek\ngod, represented by an image in human form and moving freely in the\nupper world, was substituted for the Latin god who was the unseen\nside of an act or process or quality, from which he had his name,\nand apart from which he was not. The following is a list of the\nprincipal Roman gods and of the Greek ones with whom they were\nidentified:--Jupiter (Zeus), Juno (Hera), Neptunus (Poseidon),\nMinerva (Athene), Mars (Ares), Venus (Aphrodite), Diana (Artemis),\nVulcanus (Hephaestus), Vesta (Hestia), Mercurius (Hermes), Ceres\n(Demeter). The identifications are by no means accurate; Jupiter and\nVesta, as we have seen, are the only two Roman gods who are really\nidentical with Greek gods, the other equations are founded on\naccidental resemblances, and are more arbitrary than real. The result\nof them was, however, that the Romans forgot to a large extent their\nown gods, and got Greek ones instead. With the divine figures they\ntook over the mythology of Greece, and thus the gods came to be well\nknown with all their weaknesses, instead of as before surrounded with\nmystery and awe. The worship founded on the earlier conception of the\ndeity, and kept up with unwavering regularity, was inapplicable to\nthese new gods, and inevitably lost all its reality. This is not the\nonly cause, but it is one of the chief causes which prepared for the\nfearful spectacle presented by Roman religion at the end of the\nRepublic, when men of learning and distinction officiated as the\nheads of a religion in which they had no belief, and which they\nscoffed at in their writings.\n\nAmong the worships which came to Rome from the East there were\nseveral which are not of Greek, but of Oriental origin. The worship\nof Cybele belongs to Asia Minor, though it had spread over Greece;\nthat of Dionysus also came to Greece from Asia. The practice of both\nthese cults was accompanied by excitement and self-abandonment on the\npart of the worshippers; and they formed a great contrast to the\nstaid and formal worship of the Romans, the only admissible passion\nin which was a calm passion for correctness. The worship of Cybele\nwas carried on by eunuchs, it had noisy processions, and depended on\nbegging for its support. When the Romans brought it to their city,\nthey ordained that Roman citizens should not fill leading offices in\nit; but it flourished so strongly, among the numerous foreigners in\nthe capital and among the poor, as to show that it met a great want\nthere. The worship of Bacchus had to be suppressed by the state; it\nwas carried on at nocturnal meetings, which even citizens attended,\nand it led to all kinds of irregularities. As the subject of this\nchapter is not the religions of Rome, but the Roman religion, we do\nnot here review the numerous foreign worships which were brought to\nthe capital from every part of the Empire, and made Rome, towards the\nclose of the Republic, the residence of the gods of every nation. The\nRomans as we saw were not led by any convictions of their own to deny\nthe truth of foreign religions; and their policy as rulers also\ninclined them to tolerate all worships which did not offend against\ncivil order. In the provinces it was the rule not to interfere with\nlocal religion; at Rome the authorities recognised not the imported\nreligion itself, of which the state did not feel called to judge, but\nthe association practising it, which received permission to do so.\nThe worship was then protected by the state--it became a _religio\nlicita_. Amid the meeting of all the gods and the clashing of all the\ncreeds which were thus brought about at Rome, the Roman religion\nitself maintained its place, not as a doctrine which any one\nbelieved, for the very priests and augurs laughed at the rites and\nceremonies they carried on, but as a ritual which was bound up with\nthe whole past history of Rome, and believed to be necessary for the\nwelfare of the state as well as for the satisfaction of the common\npeople. In the atmosphere of discussion and of far-reaching\nscepticism which then prevailed it was not to be expected that faith\ncould again find any strong support in the historical religion of\nRome. The Emperor Augustus made a serious attempt to reform and\nrevive religion. He selected the domestic worship of the Lares as the\nmost living part of the old system, and ordained that the two Lares\nshould be worshipped along with the genius of the Emperor, and that\nRome should be divided into districts, each with its temple of this\nstrange trinity; while in the provinces each district was to support\na worship of Rome and of the Emperor in addition to its existing\ncults. Temples were rebuilt at Rome, new ones were raised, sacred\noffices were filled which had been vacant, religious games were\ninstituted to carry the Roman mind back to the sacred past. Livy and\nVirgil treated the past from a religious point of view, showing the\nsacred mission of the Roman race, and exhibiting the valour and piety\nof the founders of the state. If the Roman religion could be revived\nthese were the proper means to do it. But the religion of the future\nwas not to be prepared in this way.\n\n\nBOOKS RECOMMENDED\n\nThe sections on religion in Mommsen's _History of Rome_.\n\nRamsay's _Roman Antiquities_.\n\nWissowa, _Religion und Cultur der Roemer_.\n\nHolwerda, in De la Saussaye.\n\nFor the period of the Empire, Boissier's _La Religion Romaine_.\n\nSee also the work of Cumont, cited at the end of chapter x.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XVIII\nTHE RELIGIONS OF INDIA\n\nI. _The Vedic Religion_\n\n\nNo contrast could well be greater than that between the German\nreligion and that of India. In the one case we have a people full of\nvigour, but not yet civilised; in the other a people of high\norganisation and culture, but deficient in vigour; the former\nreligion is one of action, the latter one of speculation. From the\noriginal Aryan faith, to which that of the Teutons most closely\napproximates, Indian religion is removed by two great steps. First we\nhave as a variety of Aryan faith the Indo-Iranian religion, that of\nthe undivided ancestors of Persians and Indians alike, in the dim\nperiod antecedent to the Aryan settlement of India. Of this religion,\nthe common mother of those of Persia and of India, we shall give some\nsketch after we have made acquaintance with the gods of India, at the\nbeginning of our Persian chapter. Indian religion is a variety of\nIndo-Iranian, which is a variety of the Aryan type. Neither its\ngenealogy nor its character entitles it to be taken as a typical\nexample of the Aryan religions. In literary chronology it is the\nearliest of them, inasmuch as its books are the oldest sacred\nliterature of Aryan faith; but in point of development it is not an\nearly but an advanced product. The absorbing interest it offers to\nthe student of our science is due to the fact that it presents in an\nunbroken sequence a growth of religious thought, which, beginning\nwith simple conceptions and advancing to a great priestly ritual, can\nbe seen to pass into mysticism and asceticism, and thence to the\nrejection of all gods and rites, and a system of salvation by\nindividual good conduct. Nowhere else can the progress of religion\nthrough what we might call its seven ages of life be seen so clearly,\nnor the logical connection of these ages with each other be\nrecognised so unmistakably. The present chapter deals with the\ninfancy and lusty youth of the religion as seen in Vedism; the later\nstages of Brahmanism and Buddhism will be spoken of in subsequent\nchapters.\n\nThe Rigveda.--The Vedic religion takes its name from the Rigveda, the\noldest portion of Indian literature, and the earliest literary\ndocument of Aryan religion. Of four vedas or collections of hymns,\nthe Rigveda is the oldest and most interesting. It contains a set of\nhymns which, with much more of their early religious literature, the\nHindus ascribed to direct divine revelation, but which we know to\nhave been written by men who claimed no special inspiration. Most of\nthem date from the time when the Aryans, having made good their entry\nin India, but without by any means altogether subduing the former\ninhabitants, were dwelling in the Punjaub. The religion of the hymns\nis a strongly national one. The Aryans appeal to their gods to help\nthem against the races, afterwards driven to the south and to the sea\ncoasts, who differ from themselves in colour, in physiognomy, in\nlanguage, in manners, and in religion. Nor are these conquerors by\nany means an uncultivated people; they had long been using metals;\nthey built houses,--a number together in a village; they lived\nprincipally by keeping cattle, but also by tillage, and by hunting.\nThey drank Sura, a kind of brandy, and Soma, a kind of strong ale, of\nwhich we shall hear more. They were, as a rule, monogamous, the wife\noccupying a high position in the household, and assisting her husband\nin offering the domestic sacrifice. At the head of each state was a\nking, as among the Greeks of Homer; he was not, however, an absolute\nmonarch; his people met in council and controlled him. The king\nhimself offered sacrifice for his tribe in his own house,--there were\nno temples,--but he was frequently assisted by a man or several men\nof special learning in such rites.\n\nThe hymns of the Rigveda were written for use at sacrifices. The\nsacrifice consists of food and drink of which the god who is\naddressed is invited to come and partake, or which are conveyed to\nthe gods seated on their heavenly thrones, by means of fire. Soma,\nthe intoxicating juice of the soma plant, is an invariable feature of\nthe banquets in these hymns; the solid part consists of butter, milk,\nrice or cakes; but animals were also killed, and the horse-sacrifice\nwas a specially important one. The hymn also is an essential part of\nthe rite; the sacrifice would have no virtue without it. It consists\nof praise and prayer. The deity is extolled for the exploits he has\ndone, for his strength, for his beauty, for his wisdom or his\ngoodness, he is invoked again and again to partake of what has been\nprovided for him, and in return he is asked to send the worshipper\nfood or cows, guidance or protection, or whatever the latter is in\nwant of.\n\nThe Vedic Gods.--And who are the gods who receive this worship? They\nare parts of nature or celestial phenomena, more or less personified.\nWorship is directed now to one divine being, now to another; each has\na story which is dwelt on and a number of functions belonging to him,\nfor the sake of which he is extolled and sought after; each god, that\nis to say, has his myth. In this set of gods the myths are so clear\nthat we can identify with perfect confidence each of the gods with\nthat part of Nature from which he arose.\n\nM. Barth classifies the Vedic gods according to the degree in which\nthey have become detached from their natural basis. There are two\nwhich are not so detached at all. Agni, who is one of the chief\ndeities of the Rigveda, is fire, and Soma, the deity to whom all the\nhymns of the ninth book are addressed, is simply the juice of the\nsoma plant, the liquid part of every sacrifice. Agni is not any\nparticular fire, but fire as a cosmic principle, born in heaven, born\nalso daily at the sacrifice by the rubbing together of two pieces of\nwood, his parents whom he consumes. He is a priest carrying the\nofferings of men up to the gods, but he was a priest at the first\nsacrifice, the primeval heavenly sacrifice, before he had come down\nto men. He is also the guest and household friend of man, a kindly\nand familiar being. But he pervades all nature, and all growth and\nenergy are due to him. Soma, also inseparably connected with all\nsacrifice, who strengthens the gods and makes them immortal, is\nlikewise a universal principle; he too came at first from heaven, and\nhe too is at work all through the world. There are stories of his\nfirst production among the gods, and of the first effects of his\nappearance; he is the nourisher of plants, he gives inspiration to\nthe poet and fervour to prayer. Along with Agni he kindled the sun\nand the stars.\n\nIn other gods there is a nearer approach to a human figure, and the\nphysical side is not so obtrusive. Indra is most frequently invoked\nof all the gods, and may be called the national god of this period.\nHe is described as a chieftain standing in a chariot drawn by two\nhorses. He waged a great battle, but still wages it constantly,\nagainst the monsters of heat and drought, Vrittra, the coverer, and\nAhi the dragon, for the deliverance of the cows, the heavenly waters,\nkept by them in captivity. The contest between the god and the demon\ngoes on for ever. Indra is also the giver of good things of every\nkind, he keeps the heavenly bodies in their places, he is the author\nand preserver of all life, the inspirer of all noble thoughts and the\nanswerer of pious prayers, the rewarder of all who trust in him, and\nthe forgiver of the penitent. It is good to sacrifice to him and to\noffer him soma in abundance; for it strengthens him to take up afresh\nhis conflicts and labours as the champion of man. Indra is surrounded\nby the Maruts, the storm-gods, who are separately invoked in many\nhymns. They drive through the sky with splendour and with mighty\nmusic, and bring rain to the parched earth. Their father is Rudra,\nalso a god of storms, the handsomest of all the gods, and, in spite\nof his thunderbolts, a helpful and kindly being. Wherever he sees\nevil done, he hurls his spear to smite the evildoer, but he is also a\nhealer of both physical and moral evils, and the best of all\nphysicians. Of the same order of deities are Vata or Vayu, the wind,\nand Parjanya, the rain-storm. But the loftiest of all the Vedic gods\nis Varuna, the great serene luminous heaven. The hymns addressed to\nhim are comparatively few, but among them are those which rise to the\nhighest moral and religious level. In language recalling that of the\npsalmists and prophets of the Bible, they exalt Varuna as the creator\nof the world and of heaven and the stars, as the omniscient defender\nof the good and avenger of all evil, as just and holy, and yet full\nof compassion, so that the conscience-stricken suppliant is\nencouraged to turn to him.\n\nWe here give a few extracts from hymns addressed to some of the gods\nwe have spoken of. The versions are those of the late Dr. John Muir.\nA metrical version can scarcely represent the hymns with the accuracy\nthe scholar would desire, but, on the other hand, a literal\ntranslation, such as that of Professor Max Mueller in vol. xxxii. of\nthe Sacred Books of the East, gives a less true idea of the spirit of\nthe pieces, and is less fitted at least for a work like this.\n\n\nTO INDRA\n\n  Thou, Indra, oft of old hast quaffed\n  With keen delight, our Soma draught.\n  All gods delicious Soma love;\n  But thou, all other gods above.\n  Thy mother knew how well this juice\n  Was fitted for her infant's use,\n  Into a cup she crushed the sap\n  Which thou didst sip upon her lap;\n  Yes, Indra, on thy natal morn,\n  The very hour that thou wast born,\n  Thou didst those jovial tastes display,\n  Which still survive in strength to-day.\n  And once, thou prince of genial souls,\n  Men say thou drained'st thirty bowls.\n  To thee the Soma draughts proceed,\n  As streamlets to the lake they feed,\n  Or rivers to the ocean speed.\n  Our cup is foaming to the brim\n  With Soma pressed to sound of hymn.\n  Come, drink, thy utmost craving slake,\n  Like thirsty stag in forest lake,\n  Or bull that roams in arid waste,\n  And burns the cooling brook to taste.\n  Indulge thy taste, and quaff at will;\n  Drink, drink again, profusely swill!\n\n\nANOTHER TO INDRA\n\n  And thou dost view with special grace,\n  The fair complexioned Aryan race,\n  Who own the gods, their laws obey,\n  And pious homage duly pay.\n  Thou giv'st us horses, cattle, gold,\n  As thou didst give our sires of old.\n  Thou sweep'st away the dark-skinned brood,\n  Inhuman, lawless, senseless, rude,\n  Who know not Indra, hate his friends,\n  And spoil the race which he defends.\n  Chase far away, the robbers, chase,\n  Slay those barbarians black and base.\n  And save us, Indra, from the spite\n  Of sprites that haunt us in the night,\n  Our rites disturb by contact vile,\n  Our hallowed offerings defile.\n  Preserve us, friend, dispel our fears,\n  And let us live a hundred years.\n  And when our earthly course we've run,\n  And gained the region of the Sun,\n  Then let us live in ceaseless glee,\n  Sweet Soma quaffing there with thee.\n\n\nTO AGNI\n\n  Great Agni, though thine essence be but one,\n  Thy forms are three; as fire thou blazest here,\n  As lightning flashest in the atmosphere,\n  In heaven thou flamest as the golden sun.\n\n  It was in heaven thou hadst thy primal birth,\n  But thence of yore a holy sage benign,\n  Conveyed thee down on human hearths to shine,\n  And thou abid'st a denizen of earth.\n\n  Sprung from the mystic pair by priestly hands,\n  In wedlock joined, forth flashes Agni bright;\n  But--O ye heaven and earth I tell you right--\n  The unnatural child devours the parent brands.\n\n\nTO VARUNA\n\n  The mighty lord on high our deeds, as if at hand, espies;\n  The gods know all men do, though men would fain their acts disguise.\n  Whoever stands, whoever moves, or steals from place to place,\n  Or hides him in his secret cell,--the gods his movements trace.\n  Wherever two together plot, and deem they are alone\n  King Varuna is there, a third, and all their schemes are known.\n  This earth is his, to him belong those vast and boundless skies;\n  Both seas within him rest, and yet in that small pool he lies.\n  Whoever far beyond the sky should think his way to wing,\n  He could not there elude the grasp of Varuna the king.\n  His spies, descending from the skies, glide all this world around,\n  Their thousand eyes all-scanning sweep to earth's remotest bound.\n  Whate'er exists in heaven and earth, whate'er beyond the skies,\n  Before the eyes of Varuna, the king, unfolded lies.\n  The ceaseless winkings all he counts of every mortal's eyes,\n  He wields this universal frame as gamester throws his dice.\n  Those knotted nooses which thou fling'st, O God, the bad to snare,\n  All liars let them overtake, but all the truthful spare.\n\nVaruna, the all-embracing sky, is also in many hymns a solar deity.\nThere are also other solar deities; Mitra who is frequently invoked\nalong with Varuna; Surya, Savitri, Vishnu, and Pushan, are all gods\nof this class. Each of these has some attributes or some story of his\nown. Surya keeps his eye on men and reports their failings to Varuna\nand Mitra. Savitri, the quickener, raises all things from sleep in\nthe morning with his long arms of gold, and covers them with sleep in\nthe evening. Vishnu, the active, traverses the universe with three\nstrides. Pushan is a shepherd who loses none of his flock; a guide\nalso, both in the journeys of this world and in the last journey. A\nnumber of the principal gods have the common title of Adityas or\nchildren of Aditi, immensity, a being too vast and undetermined to be\nclearly represented. We should also mention Ushas, the dawn, a\ngoddess whom the sun-god is daily chasing; the Asvins or two heavenly\ncharioteers, who daily make the circuit of the heavens; Tvashtri, the\nsmith who made the thunderbolt of Indra; the Ribhus, artificers who\nwere once men and have been admitted to the society of the gods. Yama\nis the god of the dead, he first traversed the road to the country\nbeyond, and now he rules over it, and comforts with substantial joys\nthe spirits guided there by Agni (this points to cremation which was\nfrequent but not universal) or by Pushan. There the Pitris or fathers\nsit at the same tables with the gods, and are eternally happy.\nBrahmanaspati, lord of prayer, is a god of another type, a\npersonification of the act of ritual, and his presence in the Vedas,\nbeside the elemental deities, shows how early speculation had begun.\n\nTo what Stage does this Religion belong?--Our sketch of this system\nis necessarily brief; we have now to inquire as to the place it\noccupies in the religious growth of India. It is held, on the one\nhand, that it is a primitive religious product, that it shows us some\nof the very first efforts men made to have a religion; while on the\nother hand it is held that the Vedic hymns and the Vedic system are\nsacerdotal, and are due to an advanced organisation of worship and to\na special set of men who were much in advance of their age.\n\n1. It is Primitive.--Mr. Max Mueller[1] says that \"the sacred books of\nIndia offer the same advantages ... for the study of the origin and\ngrowth of religion ... which Sanscrit has offered for the study of\nthe origin and growth of human speech.\" Dr. Muir[2] claims that the\nVedic hymns illustrate the natural workings of the human mind in the\nperiod of its infancy. In the Vedas, these writers consider, we are\nable to watch the process by which the earliest men rose to the\nbelief in gods, and the naive and simple methods by which man's first\nintercourse with gods was carried on. The undoubted antiquity of\nthese pieces favours this view; the Rigveda is admitted on all hands\nto be the earliest part of Indian literature, and many of the hymns\nwere written about 1500 B.C.[3] The pure and simple nature of the\nVedic religion may also appear to favour this view. It is a religion\nsingularly free from the lower elements of man's early faith. Savage\nlegends and especially immoral stories of the gods are markedly\nabsent from the hymns; they are also free from the element of magic\nand fetishism; the gods are great beings, and religion consists in\nintercourse with these great beings. Now the later religious\nliterature of India, the brahmanas or commentaries on the Rigveda and\nthe other later Vedas, contain a variety of legends and a religion by\nno means free from magic. It may be maintained therefore that the\npure religion of the Aryans afterwards became contaminated by contact\nwith the lower religion of the tribes the Aryans had conquered. It\nwas from the Dravidian and Kolarian aborigines, we are told, that\nIndian religion took its later corruptions. The Vedic religion has no\nidols, it has no dark descriptions of hell, the caste system on which\nlater Brahmanism was based is absent from it, it has no demons to be\nguarded against, and no bad deities. The doctrine of metempsychosis\nis not found here, except perhaps in germ. The immolation of the\nwidow on the funeral pile of her husband is not sanctioned by the\nVedas, and of ancestor-worship only a few traces are found. All\nthese, it may be held, are later corruptions. The Vedic religion is a\nbright and happy system, and the primitive beliefs of mankind, less\nchanged by the Indians than they were elsewhere, are here to be seen;\nthe hymns show the kind of faith to which a strong and happy race of\nmen naturally came, as their minds began to open to the wonders of\nthe world they lived in, the faith of \"primitive shepherds praising\ntheir gods as they lead their flocks to the pasture.\" The Indians had\npreserved, longer than other peoples, the gift of recognising deity\nin nature; and the primitive beliefs of mankind survive here in\nsomething like their first integrity, while elsewhere they were\nbroken up and confused.\n\n[Footnote 1: _Origin of Religion_, p. 135.]\n\n[Footnote 2: _Sanscrit Texts_, vol. v. p. 4.]\n\n[Footnote 3: According to Mr. Max Mueller the Mantra or hymn period is\nto be placed 1000-800 B.C.; but other scholars place it earlier.]\n\n2. It is Advanced.--On the other hand, it is urged that the society\nin which the hymns arose was not a primitive one, but one\nconsiderably advanced both in arts and institutions. The Rishis\n(seers), who composed them, belonged to families who cultivated such\nan art; and the hymns were no artless outpourings of childlike\nemotion, but were written on an elaborate metrical system for a\ndefinite purpose, namely, to form part of great acts of worship. As\nfor the absence from them of savage myths and of immoral stories of\nthe gods, this fact does not prove that such things were not known to\nthe people at the time, but only that the poets did not put them in\ntheir hymns. Mr. Lang has collected the savage myths, similar to\nthose of other peoples in various parts of the world, which are found\nin Indian literature of a later date, and has also shown that the\nhymns themselves were not quite ignorant of some of them. The Indians\nknew the myth of the marriage of heaven and earth, with the\nconsequent birth of the gods. They had the story of the deluge. They\nhad the still more primitive story of the raising up of the earth\nfrom the bottom of the sea. They had various myths of old conflicts\nof the gods, and of the production of the earth and all the men in it\nfrom the dissection of an immense prototypal human monster. Men were\nof different castes, they held, because they came from different\nportions of Purusha's body when it was cut up. Many stories are to be\nfound in Indian literature which when found elsewhere are judged to\nbe products of savage imagination, and the fact that the Rigveda\nignores some of them and refines others, simply shows that the\nauthors of that collection were on a higher level than their people\nin point of cultivation and of piety, as the psalmists and the\nprophets of Israel were in advance of theirs. We are led,\naccordingly, towards the conclusion that during the period when the\nhymns were written those who took charge of the development of\nworship in India were seeking to draw away attention from the more\nsuperstitious and childish elements of religion, and to bring to the\nfront the pure and lofty intercourse man could have with the good\ngods. Bad gods are not cultivated; if there are foolish stories about\nthe gods, they are not repeated, everything dark and terrible, as\nwell as everything irrational, is removed from the working religion.\nAncestor-worship is not encouraged; family rites continued, but the\nworship was wider than the family, and was not restricted to\nparticular places. The ideas connected with sacrifice are not indeed\nvery lofty. Sacrifice is, in the first place, barter. Gifts are\nprovided for the gods, that they may give in their turn. In the\nsecond place it is a social function in which the god and the\nworshipper both take part. The food, and especially the soma,\nstrengthens the god, and man and god are thereby drawn into close\nsympathy. But in the third place sacrifice was a piece of magic. The\nmere accurate performance of the rite had a mystic efficacy. It was\nbelieved to help to uphold the order of the world; without it the\ngods would grow weak, the ordinances of nature would fail, and man\nwould relapse to the state of savagery. The gods themselves first\nsacrificed; from sacrifice they themselves were born, so that\nsacrifice is an essential principle of the universe, was so in the\nbeginning, and must always be so. The Vedic leaders of religion,\ntherefore, were not merely champions of enlightenment in religion;\nthey were also ritualists, the rite was to them an end in itself; the\nproper performance of sacrifice was their principal object. This side\nof their work had, as we shall see, grave consequences. But the\nRigveda did a great work for India in cultivating gods who were\nmoral, and to whom man was drawn by higher than selfish motives. Gods\nwho are just and who watch man's conduct, and do not fail to reward\nhim according to his deeds, must quicken the conscience of those who\nbelieve in them, and gods who are able to help the weak and to\nforgive the penitent must make their people also merciful. In all the\naberrations of Indian religion the high moral standard set by the\nVedic gods is never lost sight of.\n\nWhere a plurality of gods is believed in, these gods must stand in\nsome relation to each other; and it is of importance to notice how\nthe gods of the Veda are arranged. We can see here very clearly how\nunstable a thing polytheism is. The position of the gods is\nconstantly changing with reference to each other. We find Agni\naddressed as if he were undoubtedly supreme; he dwells in the highest\nheavens, he generates the gods, he ordains the order of the universe;\nbut then we find Indra spoken of in the same way, and Varuna, and\nMitra, and others. Then we find pairs of gods addressed together.\nIndra and Agni are frequently so treated; so are Varuna and Mitra.\nThere is no supreme god, or rather, each god is supreme in turn; the\npoet wants a god capable of being exalted in every way, and does so\nexalt the god he has before him. In this way a Monotheism is reached;\nthe mind recognises a god to whom unlimited adoration can be paid.\nBut it is a monotheism, as M. Barth well puts it, the titular god of\nwhich is always changing; and Mr. Max Mueller gives to this partial\nmonotheism the name of Kathenotheism; that is, the worship of one god\nat a time without any denial that other gods exist and are worthy of\nadoration. Now this form of religion, in which several gods are\nworshipped, each of whom in turn is regarded as supreme, is not\npeculiar to India; we have met with it already, we shall meet with it\nagain. But in India a peculiar way was found out of the difficulty.\nThe Indian gods were too little defined, too little personal, too\nmuch alike, to maintain their separate personalities with great\ntenacity; nor did they lend themselves to a monarchical form of\npantheon; no one of them was sufficiently marked out from the rest or\nabove the rest, to rule permanently over them. Yet the sense of unity\nin Indian religion is very strong; from the first the Indian mind is\nseeking a way to adjust the claims of the various gods, and view them\nall as one. An early idea which makes in this direction is that of\nRita, the order, not specially connected with any one god, which\nrules both in the physical and the moral world, and with which all\nbeings have to reckon. Philosophy is busy from the first with the\nVedic gods; the impulse to good conduct and that to mysticism are\nequally innate in this religion. We can see, even in the Rigveda,\nthat India is to solve the problem of its many gods not in the way of\nMonotheism, by making one god rule over the others, but in the way of\nPantheism, by making all the gods modes or manifestations of one\nbeing. \"Agni is all the Gods\" we read here. And a religion which\narranges its objects of worship in this way will not be a religion of\naction, but of speculation and of resignation.\n\n\nBOOKS RECOMMENDED\n\n_S. B. E._ vol. xxxii. Vedic Hymns. xlvi. Hymns to Agni.\n\nMuir's _Sanscrit Texts_.\n\nM. Mueller's _Hibbert Lectures_.\n\nMonier Williams, _Indian Wisdom; Hinduism_ in \"Non-Christian\nReligious Systems\" (S.P.C.K.).\n\nKaegi, _The Rigveda, the oldest literature of the Indians_, 1886.\n\nBarth, _The Religions of India_, in Truebner's Oriental Series.\n\nHerrmann Oldenberg, _Die Religion der Veda_, 1894.\n\nBergaigne, _La Religion Vedique_, 3 vols., 1878-83.\n\nE. Hardy, _Die Vedisch Brahmanische Periode der Religion des alten\nIndiens_.\n\nLehmann, in De la Saussaye.\n\nRhys Davids, _Oxford Proceedings_, vol. i. p. 1, _sqq._\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XIX\nINDIA\n\nII. _Brahmanism_\n\n\nThe period in which the songs were collected by the Aryans dwelling\nin the Punjaub was succeeded by a period of wars and troubles, after\nwhich the successful race is found to have spread further towards the\nEast, and to have settled on the Ganges and its tributaries. Along\nwith this change of position a great change has also taken place in\nthe spirit of the people, a change which is strikingly seen in their\nreligion. The priesthood has come to occupy the position of a\nseparate class to an extent not formerly the case, and all the\nphenomena are apparent which are generally found associated with a\nhierocracy or rule of priests. The early religious writings have been\nformed into a sacred canon: there is an active production of new\nworks which explain the old ones; the sacrifices grow more elaborate\nand new virtues are attributed to them; and along with this hardening\nand formalising of the outward parts of religion there is a religious\nspeculation of great volume and of great freedom of character.\n\nThe Caste System: The Brahmans.--The key to the whole movement is to\nbe found in the new position of the priesthood, or in the\nestablishment at this period of the system of caste. Though this\nsystem is only once mentioned in the Rigveda, and that in a hymn of\nlate date, scholars find traces of it in the arrangement of the\nhymns, and as it is found in Persia, the Indians probably had it\nbefore they entered India. It may even, it is judged, be traceable to\nthe division of ranks among the primitive Aryan families. Teutonic as\nwell as Indian legends are found explaining how mankind were divided\nfrom the first into different classes.[1] But the primitive\ndifferences of rank must have had a great development before they\ntook shape in the rigid caste system of India. This system appears to\nbe organised with a view expressly to the exaltation of the\npriesthood, and must have been the result of a struggle between the\npriests and the warrior or ruling classes. The priests have made\nthemselves indispensable in nearly all religious acts. Their very\ntitle shows this. While _Brahman_, as the name of a god, means\nprimarily growth, and later, devotion or prayer, _brahmana_ (neut.)\nsignifies the ritual texts according to which worship is performed,\nand _brahman_ (mas.) is the name of those who use such texts, and\ncomes to stand for the highest caste of Indian society. Without the\nbrahman there can be no satisfactory worship, because there can be no\nsecurity that any rite is performed correctly; and a rite which is\nnot performed correctly has no efficacy. Religion, therefore, is in\nthe hands of this caste, whose sacredness is hereditary, and cannot\nbe acquired in any other way than by birth. The members of that caste\nand they alone are qualified to superintend religious observances,\nand without them the intercourse between man and the gods cannot be\nkept up. From his birth the brahman is a being of superior holiness;\nhe is destined for higher ends than other men, and the distinction\nbetween him and them must be manifested in all his acts and habits\nthroughout his life. He is the natural lord of all the classes.\n\n[Footnote 1: Compare Hans Sachs, _Die Ungleichen Kinder Eva's_.]\n\nIf the highest caste is strictly defined, so also are the others. The\nsecond caste is that of the Kshatriyas, warriors or rulers, the third\nthat of the Vaisyas or farmers. These three have rank, they are the\ntwice-born classes (their second birth answers to confirmation, and\ntakes place when a young man is invested with the sacred thread). The\nSudras are the fourth and lowest class; no duty is assigned to them\nin the law books but that of serving meekly the other castes. It has\nbeen thought that the Sudras represent the conquered aborigines, the\nthree classes of rank belonging to the Aryan invaders, but this is\nopen to question.\n\nThe student of religion has to fix his attention on the Brahmans, who\nhave secured themselves in the position of the leading caste. We\nspeak first of the literary movement in which they were concerned,\nthen of the sacrifices they conducted, and of their gods. We shall\nthen say something of the practical operation of their religion as a\nrule of life, and lastly we shall come to the speculative work of\ntheir period, which is not, however, to be set down to them alone.\n\n1. The Growth of the Sacred Literature.--The Vedas rose in sacredness\nafter the age which produced them passed away. A few centuries after\nthey were written they were not generally intelligible; they needed\ninterpretation, but at the same time the doctrine of their\ninspiration rose higher and higher. The brahmans had both to\ninterpret the words of the old hymns and to explain how, when used at\nthe sacrifice, they produced the effect ascribed to them. This led to\nthe production of the earliest Indian prose, the brahmanas or ritual\ntreatises. Primarily intended to be directories of worship for the\npriests, these works were enriched with all sorts of ideas about the\nsacrifices, their origin, and their effects; points in the ritual are\nexplained in them by mythological stories which we should not\notherwise know, and we see from them that many superstitions, to\nwhich the Vedas gave no encouragement, yet lived among the people.\nEach Samhita, or collection of hymns, had its Brahmana, and some of\nthe collections had several. These works, though transcending in\ndreariness most directories of worship, are yet of great value for\nthe light they throw on the history of Indian manners and ideas, as\nwell as on that of mythology. And as it happened among the Jews in\ntheir later period so it happened here;--the sanctity of the text was\nextended to the commentary, the brahmana also was held to be\ngod-given and inspired, and by some was even more highly esteemed\nthan the hymns themselves. A third class of inspired writings\nconsists of the Upanishads, or speculative treatises, of which we\nshall speak later. The \"Veda\" in the larger sense is made up of these\nthree bodies of compositions, mantras, brahmanas, and upanishads.\nThese three belong to revelation or \"S'ruti,\" _i.e._ hearing; what is\ncontained in these is to be regarded as having been heard by inspired\nmen from a higher source. The counterpart of S'ruti is \"smriti,\"\n_i.e._ recollection, tradition. This embraces the Sutras or works\ndealing with ceremonial in the way of short rules gathered from the\nolder literature, with the exposition of the Vedas, with domestic\nrites and conventional usages. The law books, the epics, and the\nPuranas, or ancient legendary histories, also belong to this class.\n\nThe doctrine of the Vedas, of their sacredness and of their virtues,\nplayed a great part in Indian thought. They were revered not as a\nwritten word, for they were not written but handed down by\nmemory,--the Brahman still knows his sacred literature by heart,--but\nas hymns possessing supernatural powers and of far higher than human\norigin. They were raised to the rank of a divinity, they were said to\nhave had to do with the creation of the world, or to have been among\nthe first created beings. The value of the study of them was not to\nbe exaggerated; he who engages in it, we hear, offers a complete\nsacrifice, obtains for himself the world which does not pass away,\nand becomes united with Brahma. The class of men who had installed\nthemselves as the authorised interpreters of the hymns, had evidently\ntaken up a very strong position.\n\n2. Sacrifice.--Indian ritual is an immense subject. In the Vedic\nperiod there were several orders of sacrifice--the hymns of the\nRigveda have to do with the Soma-sacrifice alone--and several kinds\nof priests, and it stands to reason that an elaborate ritual derived\nfrom a distant age and cherished by a priestly caste which was\ngrowing in power, could not quickly change. In spite of the\nconsiderable amount of materials accessible in the Brahmanas and\nSutras, a history of Indian sacrifice as a whole has still to be\nwritten.\n\nIt is characteristic of early Indian sacrifice that it is not\nconfined to a temple or to any sacred spot, and that it does not\nrequire any image of the deity. Instructions are always given for\nchoosing and preparing a place for the rite, and for erecting an\naltar; a place had to be prepared on each occasion. The gods were\nasked to come, or were thought to be seated in heaven looking on; the\nsacrifice is in the open air. While the celebration proceeded\naccording to a certain ritual, it lay with the worshippers to fix to\nwhat god or gods the sacrifice should be addressed. There was not one\nritual for Agni and another for Indra, but the same would serve for\neither or for both. The sacrifices of which we hear in the Brahmanas\nare domestic rites; they are offered by the heads of the household,\nwho invite ancestors also to be present. A Brahman is present to\ndirect those who sacrifice and the inferior priests who assist them,\nand the benefits of the act extend to all the dependants of the\nhousehold. The time was determined by natural seasons or by household\nevents. Some sacrifices were greater than others, the more elaborate\nones requiring several days, months, or even years for their\ncelebration. Among the kinds of offerings which might be made we find\nthat of man enumerated; human sacrifice, however, if it had prevailed\nin earlier times, had now grown obsolete.\n\nThe rise of the Brahmans into a caste changed the character of the\nsacrifice by making its due celebration depend more on special\nknowledge, and by increasing its elaborate mystery. Once the hymn was\nrecognised as an essential element of such an act, the person who\ncould interpret the hymn and explain its effects acquired great\nimportance. And when the explanation of all the various features of\nthe sacrifice was once begun, a wide door was opened to minute\ningenuity. It is astonishing to what trifles these priestly\ndirectories descend, what explanations are brought from every part of\nearth and heaven of the most trivial circumstances, and what\nsacredness is found in the very blades of grass around the altar. Now\nthe effect of such a treatment of ritual is inevitably that the rite\nitself, the outward mechanical performance, comes to be regarded as\nimportant, and that the ethical and religious end which was\noriginally aimed at, is lost sight of. The priest and those he acts\nfor are so intent on the minutiae of their celebration that they\nforget about the god it is intended for. And as they are quite\nconvinced that the sacrifice, if offered with perfect correctness and\nwith nothing left out, must produce its effect, the sacrifice itself\ncomes to appear as the agent of the desired blessing; the god grows\nless but the sacrifice grows more. This process, which may be\nobserved wherever ritualism exists, was carried in the period of\nBrahmanism to its utmost length. In this period the old gods lost the\nstrong hold they had before over the people's mind; men ceased to\nlook for their gods to the sky or to the tempest, and began to look\ninstead to the long ceremonies of the priest or to the hymn he\nchanted at the altar, or to the austerities he practised. Gods of a\nnew type now make their appearance. As in the Vedic period we saw\nthat Brahmanaspati, lord of prayer, had a place beside Indra and\nVaruna, so now we see that the supreme deity is named Brahma. The\nprayer connected with the sacrifice has given its name to the ruler\nof the universe. Other names for the supreme are also found to be\nmaking their way to general use, as the old historical and\nmythological gods fall into the background, and an abstract divine\nunity is sought after. Prajapati, lord of creatures, who is little\nheard of in the hymns, is frequently invoked as the head of all the\ngods, and a triad of gods is heard of, consisting of Agni, Vayu,\nSurya, fire, the air, the sun, and summing up the divine energies.\nThe attributes of the gods are personified, and a set of pale\nabstractions is thus added to the Pantheon; and spirits and goblins\nnot heard of in the hymns, though not therefore necessarily unknown\nin the former period, make their appearance. These are, perhaps, the\ngods of the aborigines, who thus revenge themselves, as the religion\nof the invaders which at first suppressed them loses its earlier\nvigour. The strong gods retire and weak gods, many and shadowy, and\nbad as well as good, are worshipped. The Asuras were formerly the\ngods generally, now they are evil beings with whom the good gods have\nto contend.\n\n3. Practical Life.--We possess very complete pictures of Indian life\nand manners in the period of Brahmanism. Of the codes of ancient\nsages by which Hindu society was supposed to be governed many are\nextant to us; and in Mr. Max Mueller's _Sacred Books of the East_ the\nEnglish reader may make himself acquainted with several of these. The\nmost famous and the longest, is the laws of Manu, a mythical\nprogenitor of mankind. In the form in which we have it this work\ndates probably from the second century A.D., but the body of the work\nis much older. Originally a local collection of rules, it extended\nits authority gradually over the entire Hindu population of India.\nWith other collections, also of local origin, it represents to us the\ncondition of Indian society after the caste system became fixed; but\nmuch of the law thus handed down to us must have had its origin in\nprehistoric times.\n\nThe law of Manu hinges on the superiority of the Brahman over the\nother castes. The Brahmans form the centre of the state and really\ncontrol everything; but their life, in turn, is framed in strict\nrules, and their whole history and actions are laid down for them to\nthe last detail from the moment of their birth. The life of the\nBrahman is divided into four periods. For a quarter of his life he is\na student living with a teacher and learning from him the sacred\nknowledge of the Vedas. Every act of study begins with the so-called\nSavitri-verse, \"Let us meditate on that excellent glory of the divine\nVivifier. May he enlighten our understandings.\" This prayer, with the\nmystic syllable, Om (thought to have to do with the three gods of a\ntriad, but probably the original meaning is Yes, an abstract\nall-embracing yes, in which nothing but pure being is affirmed), is\nrepeated at every return to study, and also with great frequency at\nother times. The teacher is more to the student than his father, and\nis to be treated with the greatest deference and courtesy; these\nyears are a training in gentle and seemly conduct as well as in law.\nHis student days completed, the Brahman offers his first sacrifice,\nmarries, and becomes a householder. Little is said of earning a\nliving; the Brahman is not to be worldly, but he is to be independent\nif he can. He is, however, allowed to beg if in want. But more stress\nis laid on the continued pursuit of knowledge, and on the domestic\nsacrifices to gods and manes which are to be his daily care. After he\nhas brought up a son to take charge of his house and goods, the third\nstage of his life is reached; he may retire from the world and become\na recluse, giving himself to contemplation and austerities. The\nfourth stage is that of the ascetic, _bhikku_ or _sannyasin_, the\naged man who having given up all possessions, all human society, and\nthe practice of all rites, and subsisting only on alms, seeks to\npurge his heart of all desire and to become united by deep meditation\nwith the supreme soul, thus attaining union with Brahma and final\nliberation. In this section of the laws of Manu an ideal of moral\nperfection is set forth, which is not demanded at the earlier stages\nof life.\n\n\"_Let him not desire to die; let him not desire to live; let him wait\nfor his time as a servant for the payment of his wages._\n\n\"_Let him patiently bear hard words, let him not insult any one, nor\nbecome any one's enemy for the sake of this perishable body. Against\nan angry man let him not in return show anger; let him bless when he\nis cursed._\"\n\nHe is to be sedulously careful not to injure any living creature, he\nis to meditate on the supreme soul which is present in all organisms,\nboth the highest and the lowest. He is to give up all attachments,\nand in this way, as his body decays, he enters even here into a state\nof perfect freedom and repose and union with the great spirit.\n\nSuch ideas prove that the mind of Brahmanism was not occupied with\nsacrifices alone. Manu speaks of the superintendence of sacrifices as\nonly one of several careers which the Brahman might choose; and if he\nmight with equal right devote himself to study or to self-discipline,\nwe see that another side of religion than that directing itself to\nexternal gods or occupying itself with outward acts, was pressing\nitself forward. The inner world of the mind is growing larger as the\noutward gods grow shadowy; it is being found that salvation may be\nreached by inwards efforts as well as by outward rites, that the\nsearch for wisdom and the work of self-conquest, and a union with the\ndeity which is quite apart from any offering or from any form of\nworship, also lead to salvation. It is objected to the ethics of Manu\nthat the ideal they set up is not an active but a suffering one; the\nascetic is placed on a higher platform than the householder, men are\nencouraged to withdraw from the performance of their duties in the\nfamily and in society, and to devote themselves to an aim which,\nhowever lofty, is personal and, so far, selfish. It is certainly a\nweakness in the religion that it has no higher aim than this to set\nbefore its most eager minds. Apart from this, life is regulated in a\nway we cannot but admire. Amid the mass of trivialities and\nformalities in which every action is involved there breathes a grave\nhumane and gentle spirit, and a sound practical morality, and the\nordinary household of the Brahman may have been a scene of activity\nand cheerfulness. The Sudra, however, is spoken of everywhere as a\nbeing whose degradation can never be removed, and to touch whom is to\nbe defiled. Those who belonged to no caste were in a still worse\nplight and lived in the greatest misery.\n\n4. Philosophy.--We have seen how both in the ritual system they\nadministered and in the ideal they formed of the highest good, the\nBrahmans were led forward from the old ground of the Vedic\nnature-worship to a more inward and subjective religious attitude.\nThe exaltation of Brahma, the power of prayer, to be the supreme god,\nwas an advance from an external deity to a deity both external and\npresent in man's own experience; and the appearance of a new way of\nsalvation, though only permitted at first to the world-weary ascetic,\nin which inner contemplation and absorption could lead to the highest\nconsummation of life, also showed that a new form of religion was at\nhand. In the philosophy of the Brahmanic period, the transition is\nmade from the service of gods external to man, by the mechanism of\nrites, to the acknowledgment of a divine being with whom man feels\nhimself to be inwardly akin and to whom he draws near by his own\nspiritual effort. In this movement, to which we learn that members of\nthe lay aristocracy and even women of intellectual distinction made\nimportant contributions, and which may have appeared in its\nbeginnings as a sceptical revolt against their own system, the\nBrahmans yet took part, and the works in which the record of it is\ncontained became a part of revelation. The \"Upanishads\" or\n\"communicated doctrines,\" form the third branch of the sacred\nknowledge, and much of this literature belongs to the period before\nBuddhism. These books are read still by the educated Hindu as part of\nscripture, and the philosophy of them is a part of his religion. We\ncan only point out the principal terms and notions of that\nphilosophy.\n\nSeeking to escape from the confusion of many gods the Indian mind is\nlooking out even from the Vedic period for some means to conceive of\nthem all as one. In the earliest period each reigned in turn as the\nsupreme; a god is supreme not because he is essentially the greatest\nof the gods, but because circumstances have brought him to the front.\nThis is Henotheism. Then we have attempts to sum them all up in one\nexpression. Prajapati, lord of creatures, Visvakarman, maker of all\nthings, represent such attempts. Then we have as the supreme, Brahma,\nthe power of prayer,[2] a being of a different character from all his\npredecessors. Brahma is an intellectual deity. He is a thinker, a\nknower, he is the \"Mahan Atma\" or great spirit, which sits in\nunbroken calm above the change and distraction of the universe. In\nrendering Mahan Atma by great spirit, however, we are anticipating.\nAtma, originally breath or life, comes, afterwards, to mean the\nperson, the self when all that is accidental is removed from it, the\nessential, innermost self. Now Brahma is the great self, the inmost\nessence of all things, which was before them, and is unaffected by\ntheir changes. But man also has an atma, a self; it may be very small\nand lodge in a part of the body where it cannot be detected, but it\nis there, and the small atma is the same as the great one. By what\nphysiological doctrines this is upheld, cannot here be traced; but\nthe notion of the atma, the great form of which in Brahma is\nidentical with its small form in man, lies at the basis of Brahmanic\nthought.\n\n[Footnote 2: On the etymology of Brahma see Mr. Max Mueller's _Hibbert\nLectures_, p. 366.]\n\nIn Brahma one god has been reached, but he has been reached by\nthinking away from him everything concrete. All predicates are\nunsuitable to him, as any predicate implies a limitation; he can only\nbe described in negatives, or in questionable metaphors. He is meant\nto satisfy the religious craving for a being quite free from any\nimperfection and entirely supreme--and it is the penalty of this that\nhe has no clear outline or character. And how indeed is he to be\nrelated to the world? This world of change and decay, of\ndisappointment and sorrow, what has the perfect being to do with\nthat? Did he make it, and is he responsible for it? The answer to\nthis in Hindu thought is that the world is due to Maya, illusion. It\nwas due to an aberration in Brahma, which is represented in various\nways, that the transition was made from the one to the many, and this\nerror has been productive of all that has been suffered on the earth.\nOr else it is held that it was not Brahma who became subject to\nillusion, but that the illusion resides in man's views and thoughts\nabout the world; and if a man could free himself from the meshes of\nMaya by recognising that the world is an illusion, and that nothing\nexists but Brahma only, then he would have done something for his own\nemancipation, the Brahma in him would be free from illusion, and he\nwould also have done something, though little, for the salvation of\nthe world from its great error.\n\nThat the whole world-process is nothing but an illusion, a confused\nand troubled dream passing over the mind of Brahma, who himself alone\nis real, this is the cardinal doctrine of Brahmanism, from which\nBuddhism also, as we shall see, sets out. The world is really nothing\nbut an apparent world; and the true wisdom, the only salvation\nconsists in knowing this, and in living a life in accordance with\nthat knowledge. The wise man should regard a world which he knows to\nbe illusion, with complete indifference; it can do nothing to him, he\ncan do nothing for it; it affects him only with an ineradicable\nregret that it exists at all, and with a longing for its\ndisappearance. The practical outcome of the state of matters which he\nrecognises is firstly negative, that he must not allow the world to\ninfluence him at all, and, secondly, positive, that he must strive to\nbe united with Brahma. The negative task is performed by withdrawing\nthe mind from all particular things, and letting it be filled with\nthe general, the absolute alone; and similarly by forbidding the\ndesires to fasten on any worldly objects, by extinguishing desire and\nceasing to be affected in any way by worldly things. The positive\ntask is performed by means of a mental process which we cannot here\ndescribe, but by which the mind returns to the self that is within\nand realises it as it is, cleared from all particular thoughts and\naffections. These exercises cannot be called moral; where all is\nillusion morality disappears. There is no good, no evil, no effort to\npromote the good and lessen the evil. It is not because the world is\nbad that it is condemned, but because it exists. The energy which in\nother faiths is devoted to a moral struggle, is here poured into the\nascetic discipline by which the individual looks to escape altogether\nfrom the world as it is. There are no good works, what is good is to\nabstain from all works; there is no benevolence further than that the\nmind must be kept clear of all that confuses or degrades; the\nsalvation of the individual alone is sought after; there is no desire\nto spread the light and save others, since few are capable of that\nknowledge of the illusive nature of all things by which alone\nsalvation is possible.\n\nThis, it is plain, could never be a popular religion. Brahma, the\nabstract one, does not appeal to the imagination; he could not drive\nout the popular nature-gods with their definite myths and attributes.\nNor could a religion spread among the people, which regarded the\nsocial and the domestic state as inferior, and could only be\npractised by one who had left his home and family. The hermits and\nascetics and begging monks may form the religious aristocracy; but a\nteaching of a different nature was necessary for the people. And we\nfind, in fact, two religions prevailing in India in the period of\nBrahmanism; that which we have described for the enlightened, who\nescapes in it from all law, all creed, all ritual, whose whole\nreligion more than any other which ever flourished in the world is\nwithin the mind;[3] and on the other hand, a religion in which\noutward gods are worshipped, an outward law enforced which is counted\nsacred because a god or gods inspired it, and in which superstitions\ngathered from all quarters find shelter. The higher religion by no\nmeans killed the lower one, as we see in India to this day. On the\ncontrary, the withdrawal of the higher religion of the country to a\nregion whither the people could not follow, left the religion of the\npeople to sink into a degradation unknown before. One doctrine must\nhere be noticed. The belief in transmigration which Buddhism received\nfrom the religion it found existing in India, does not belong to the\nhigher thought of Brahmanism described in this section; the atman or\nself, which is identical with the supreme self, belongs to quite a\ndifferent order of thought from the soul which was formerly in some\none else, is now in me, and may yet come to be in many another being.\nThe doctrine is thought to have been an importation into India about\nthe time we are speaking of. It admits of being made a powerful\ndeterrent from vice and incentive to virtue. If my present sufferings\nare due not to my acts, but to the acts of the person in whom my soul\ndwelt before, it is possible for me so to act that my soul's future\nexistence may be better and not worse than this one, and that it\nshall not sink but rise in the order of beings, and draw nearer to\nits final deliverance. Of this we shall hear more in connection with\nBuddhism.\n\n[Footnote 3: \"From the standpoint of unity with Brahma, the gods are\nno-gods, the Vedas no-Vedas.\"]\n\nThe further development of Indian religion, apart from Buddhism, is\nin two directions. There is a philosophical movement, in which the\nBrahmanic ideas on God, the world, the soul and its changes, are\nfurther worked out, and which leads to the six schools of Hindu\nphilosophy. On the other hand, the gods have their history. Brahma\nremains the great god, but as his character is so undefined he is\nlittle worshipped. Indra, the old national god, yields to Vishnu, the\nold sun-god of the three steps (heaven, the air, the earth), who\nbecomes the favourite deity. The stern and destructive S'iva is a new\nfigure, and seems to be partly an adaptation of a god of the savage\naborigines: his worship is the most fanatical. These three, the\nCreator, the Upholder, and the Destroyer, form the Trimurti, or\ndivine trinity of India,--a trinity arrived at not by unfolding the\nriches of the one great god, but by compounding the claims of three\ngods who were rivals. The doctrine of incarnation is also found here.\nVishnu has ten avatars or incarnations in human form; he comes down\nto the earth when there is a special reason for his interference. In\nthese avatars, especially in Krishna, the dark god, whose exploits as\na hero are told in the great epic the Mahabharata, the need is to\nsome extent met, of which both Buddhism and Christianity lay hold, of\na divine figure who is not too far away from man, and who can be\nregarded with personal affection.\n\n\nBOOKS RECOMMENDED\n\nMost of the books mentioned at the end of last chapter deal also with\nBrahmanism.\n\nOf the Brahmanic literature given in the Sacred Books of the East,\nthe following may be mentioned:--\n\n  Vols. i. and xv. Upanishads.\n\n  Vols. ii. and xiv. Sacred Laws of the Aryas.\n\n  Vol. vii. The Institutes of Vishnu.\n\n  Vols. xii., xxvi., and xli. The Satapatha-Brahmana (Sacrificial\n    Rituals).\n\n  Vol. xxv. Manu.\n\n  Vols. xxix., and xxx. Grihya-Sutras (Domestic Ceremonies).\n\n  Vol. xxxiv. Vedic Hymns. xlvi. Hymns to Agni.\n\n  Vols. xlii.-xliv. Hymns of the Atharva-Veda.\n\n  Vols. xxxiv., xxxviii., xlviii. Vedanta Sutras.\n\nMuir's _Sanscrit Texts_.\n\nWeber, _Indische Skizzen_.\n\nHaug, _Aitareya Brahmana_.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XX\nINDIA\n\nIII. _Buddhism_\n\n\nIn Buddhism the great movement of Indian religion works itself out to\nits ultimate conclusion and reaches a stage beyond which there can be\nno advance. Here we have a religion, if such it may be called,\nwithout a god, without prayer, without priesthood or worship; a\nreligion which owes its great success, not to its theology, nor to\nits ritual, since it has neither, but to its moral sentiment and to\nits external organisation. Originating in the centre of India, and\ngiving practical form to Indian ideas, it spread rapidly and widely\nboth in the country of its birth and in neighbouring lands. It is now\nextinct in India, yet it numbers more adherents than any other\nreligion. It has been divided since the Christian era into two great\nbranches. Southern Buddhism is the religion of Ceylon, of Burmah, and\nof Siam; while Northern Buddhism extends over Tibet, China, and\nJapan, and the islands of Java and Sumatra.\n\nThe Literature.--These two branches of Buddhism have different\nliterary traditions, though some works are common to both; and these\nliteratures, differing from each other in language, also differ\nwidely in contents and in spirit. The southern tradition, composed in\nPali, the literary language of Ceylon, has recently been opened up to\nscholars, and has greatly changed their views of the origin and the\ntrue nature of this religion. The Canon of Southern Buddhism, which\nwe might call the Pali Bible, is a literature about twice as large as\nthe Bible of Europe, although if the repetitions in it were removed,\nit would be somewhat smaller than the Bible. It consists of three\nPitakas, baskets or collections. The first is the Vinaya Pitaka,\ndealing with discipline, but including the Mahavagga, a history of\nthe first beginnings of the order as the founder gathered it around\nhim. The second is the Sutta Pitaka or collection of teachings. It\ncontains the earliest account of the later life of the founder, books\nof meditation and devotion, collections of sayings by the Master,\npoems, fairy tales, and fables, stories about Buddhist saints, and so\non. The third collection, the Abidhamma, contains speculations and\ndiscussions on various subjects. Much of these materials is not\npeculiar to Buddhism, there is much pre-Buddhistic speculation, and\nthere are many stories which are not peculiar even to India. Along\nwith all this, however, the books give us the earliest accounts of\nthe life and of the death of the founder, and contain a\nrepresentation written a century after his death, of what he was\nconsidered to have taught. The founder himself wrote nothing; but the\nwork of composing books about him and his doctrine began early, and\nmuch of the canon is considered, especially by English scholars, to\nhave been in existence during the first Buddhist century.[1] For many\ncenturies they were preserved by memory alone.\n\n[Footnote 1: The Buddhist literature given in the _Sacred Books of\nthe East_ is as follows:\n\n  Vol. x. The Dhammapada, containing the quintessence of Buddhist\n  morality, and the Sutta-nipata, giving teachings of Buddha on\n  religion.\n\n  Vol. xi. Buddhist Suttas. Religious, moral, and philosophical\n  discourses. Vol. xlix. Buddhist Mahayana Sutras.\n\n  Vol. xiii. Vinaya Texts. The Patimokha or order of discipline, and\n  the beginning of the Mahavagga, containing an account of the\n  opening of the ministry of the founder.\n\n  Vol. xvii. Vinaya Texts ii. Mahavagga continued. Kullavagga or\n  discipline as established by the Master.\n\n  Vol. xx. Kullavagga continued.\n\n  Vols. xxii., xlv. contain Suttas of the religion of the Jainas.\n\n  Vols. xxxv., xxxvi. Questions of King Milinda.]\n\nWas there a Personal Founder?--Senart in his _Essai sur la legende du\nBuddha_, and Kern in his _Het Buddhisme in Indie_, both hold that we\nhave here to do with a sun-myth, and interpret the various features\nof the legend in a very ingenious way in accordance with that theory.\nThis view has made few converts. Many incidents in the story are\nnatural, and appear to be due to a real tradition; there is literary\nevidence of the early existence of the books, and the religion can be\nbest understood if regarded as the work of a real personality of\ncommanding greatness.[2]\n\n[Footnote 2: Recent archaeological discoveries, of which an account is\ngiven by Mr. Rhys Davids in the _Century Magazine_, April 1902, place\nit beyond doubt that the Buddha really existed, and that pious\noffices were paid to his ashes after his cremation by the members of\nhis own clan as well as by others. Inscriptions brought to light in\n1898 show that the Sakhya clan, of which he was a member, dwelt at\nthe time of his death in what is now a frontier district of Nepal.\nThree years before that event they were driven from their old capital\nKapilavastu; but they formed a new one fifteen miles further south,\njust beyond the present frontier of Nepal, and there they erected a\n_stupa_ or massive stone cairn, to guard the portion of the ashes of\nthe Buddha which was committed to their keeping.]\n\nScholars, however, are agreed as to the difficulty of drawing the\nline between what is history and what is legend. Even in the early\nPali accounts the hero has become a religious figure, he wears titles\nwhich lift him above mankind, and he has supernatural powers at his\ncommand. A laborious critical process must be undertaken, comparing\nthe various narratives with each other and testing them in other\nways, before the real history can be regarded as made out beyond\nquestion. The slight sketch of the story which we give does not aim\nat such critical correctness; we merely indicate the outline of a\nnarrative which is one of the principal sources of the strength of\nthe religion.\n\nThe Story of the Founder.--The founder's family name was Gautama, and\nby that name he was commonly known during his lifetime. The personal\nname given him as a child was Siddartha. Those who wished after his\ndeath to speak of him with reverence called him Sakya-Muni, the Sage\nof the Sakyas. These were a tribe who dwelt, at the period of the\nstory, _i.e._ half a millennium before Christ, in the country to the\nnorth of the sacred Ganges, a few days' journey from the city of\nBenares. Gautama's father, Suddhodana, was rajah (chief) of the\nSakyas; his residence was Kapilavastu, near Oude. The future sage\nthus belonged to the Kshatriya class, and was accustomed to a\nposition of rank and ease. We hear little of his youth; he had been\nmarried ten years, and his wife, whom he loved, had just brought him\na son, when, at the age of twenty-nine, he suddenly and secretly left\nhis home to devote himself to the religious life. He was led to this\nstep by witnessing various painful sights which caused him vividly to\nrealise the suffering which accompanies all existence, and made him\nscorn a life of luxury. It was a time when many were seeking a better\nway, and when a superior mind naturally turned to that retirement and\nabsorption in which it was believed that the key to life's pains and\nmysteries was to be found. In the \"Great Renunciation,\" as this act\nis called, there is nothing we cannot understand. This lofty act,\nhowever, was followed by a temptation; Mara, the spirit of evil,\nurged him, but urged him in vain, to give up the purpose he had\nformed. He then attached himself to Brahmanic ascetics, from whom he\nlearned their philosophy; and after this he devoted himself for six\nyears to a life of fasting and penance, the Brahmanic method for\ndrawing nearer the goal of the religious life. After this period he\ngave up his fasting, not having profited by it as he had expected,\nand returned to an ordinary diet. This change cost him the adhesion\nof five disciples who had become attached to him, and had been filled\nwith wonder at his mortifications. But the loss was a small one\ncompared with the gain which was at hand. After a second great\nspiritual struggle and a renewal of the temptation, he at last\nreached that which he had long been seeking. Seated under a _ficus\nreligiosa_, the tree afterwards called the tree of knowledge, or the\nBo-tree, he rose in contemplation above all his temptations and\ndoubts till he beheld at length the true nature of things. From this\nmoment he was Buddha, Enlightened; he had the key of truth, and for\nhimself he was assured that sorrow and evil had lost all hold on him.\nHis doctrine had dawned in his mind. He had discovered the cause of\nthe sorrow which is so closely intertwined in man's life, and had\ndivined the way in which sorrow might be overcome. The method had\nbeen found by which one could escape from the unending succession of\nnew lives, all painful, to which, according to the general belief of\nthe time, men were condemned. The words placed in the mouth of the\nfounder when he attained to Buddhahood tell their own tale. \"Looking\nfor the Maker of this tabernacle, I have to run through a course of\nmany births so long as I do not find him; and painful is birth again\nand again. But now, Maker of the tabernacle, thou hast been seen;\nthou shalt not make up this tabernacle again. All thy rafters are\nbroken; thy ridge-pole is sundered; the mind, approaching the\neternal, has attained to the extinction of all desires.\"[3]\n\n[Footnote 3: Dhammapada, _S. B. E._ x. 42.]\n\nThe great discovery being made, and duly pondered and realised, the\nquestion arose, What was to be done with it? The Buddha shrinks from\nthe work of preaching it to others. Brahma himself is brought into\nthe story to encourage him to make his secret known to others, and to\nassure him that many will receive it with great joy. The Blessed One\nconsents, and thus replies: \"Wide open is the gate of the Immortal to\nall who have ears to hear; let them send forth faith to meet it. The\nteaching is sweet and good; because I despaired of the task, I spake\nnot to men before.\"[4] He turns his steps, guided by his own\nsupernatural knowledge, to the city of Benares, to seek the five\nmonks who had formerly abandoned him. On his way thither he meets a\nnaked ascetic who asks the reason of his cheerful mien; he answers\nthat he has overcome all foes, has reached emancipation by the\ndestruction of desire, and has obtained Nirvana. \"To found the\nkingdom of Truth I go to the city of the Kasis (Benares); I will beat\nthe drum of the Immortal in the darkness of this world.\" The account\nwhich follows of the opening of the \"kingdom of righteousness\"\npresents many analogies to the early stages of other spiritual\nmovements. The founder, immovably sure of himself and of his\ndoctrines, goes from place to place, spending the rainy season in\ntown, and preaching everywhere. It is at Benares that the \"wheel of\nthe law\" is first set in motion; there the first sermon was preached.\nThe circumstances are also narrated under which other sermons were\ndelivered, details being given as to time, place, the persons who\nheard them, the incidents which occasioned them. His converts at\nfirst are few and their names are recorded, but by degrees they\nbecome more numerous. The more devoted of them become members of his\norder, Bhikkus (for Bhikshus), mendicants; they forsake domestic\nlife, shave their heads, adopt the yellow dress and the alms-bowl.\nThey also are sent out to preach. \"Go ye, O Bhikkus, and wander, for\nthe welfare of many, out of compassion for the world, for the gain\nand for the welfare of gods and men. Let not two of you go the same\nway. Preach, O Bhikkus, the doctrine which is glorious in the\nbeginning, glorious in the middle, glorious in the end, in the\nspirit, and in the letter; proclaim a consummate, perfect, and pure\nlife of holiness. There are beings whose mental eyes are covered with\nscarcely any dust, but if the doctrine is not preached to them they\ncannot attain salvation.\" The incidents narrated in this part of the\nstory are mostly connected with persons seeking admission to the\norder, or persons requiring to be convinced; the doctrine and its\nspread are everything. That spread takes place, as it is desired by\nthe Buddha, chiefly among the higher classes of society; a great\ntriumph is reached when Bimbisara, king of Magadha, becomes a patron\nof the order, and some accounts tell of the conversion of the\nBuddha's own father and mother. The work of the mission is of a\npeaceful nature; the Buddha lives on good terms with the Brahmans and\nwith other teachers and their pupils. The only formidable opposition\nhe had to meet arose within the order. His cousin Dewadatta, who had\nbecome a monk, wished to found a new order with much stricter rules\nthan those of the original one. The Buddha refused to attach\nimportance, as was proposed, to matters of clothes and food, or\nliving in the open air; to do so would have made his movement\nnarrower and less universal than he desired.\n\n[Footnote 4: Mahavagga, _S. B. E._ xiii. 88.]\n\nThe beginning of the ministry is told in some detail, but of a long\nperiod of the life only a few scattered incidents are given. There is\na detailed account of the three last months of the life. The Buddha\nis now eighty years of age, and in the Maha-paranibbana Sutta[5] the\ntale of his migrations and preachings is carried on according to the\nsame scheme as in the accounts of his early days. During the rainy\nseason, however, when he has reached the age of eighty, he has an\nillness, and sees he cannot live long. This he tells his monks,\nexhorting them with urgency to be true to the teaching and the order,\nand to shed the light abroad. His end is hastened by a meal of pork\nset before him by a goldsmith, a man of low caste, who hospitably\nentertained him. After this his face shines with a heavenly radiance,\nand as the end approaches many heavenly signs appear. The Buddha is\nfully conscious that he is about to leave the world, and that his\ndeath is an event of supreme interest to the heavenly powers, whom he\nbelieves to be thronging around to watch his last hours. He is\nsolicitous, however, to soothe the grief of his friends, large\nnumbers of whom also are around him, and to give them such counsels\nand such incentives to a faithful upholding of the cause as he yet\nmay. They ask about his obsequies, and he claims that the remains of\nsuch an one as he is, of a Tathagata, \"one who has attained\nperfection,\" should be treated as men treat the remains of a king of\nkings. He recognises the kindness of Ananda, his most intimate\ndisciple, and tries to comfort him by encouraging him to be earnest\nin effort, so that he too may soon be free from evils. He directs his\ndisciples generally not to mourn too much at his removal as if they\nwere being deserted. The truths which he has set forth, and the rules\nof the order he has laid down for them, are to be their teacher after\nhe is gone. He asks if any of them has any doubt or misgiving as to\nthe Buddha, or the truth, or the faith, or the way. If so, they are\nto inquire freely, so that they may not reproach themselves\nafterwards for not having consulted him while still among them. The\nbrethren, however, are silent, though addressed again and again in\nthe same way. In the whole assembly there is not one who has any\ndoubt or misgiving. Even the most backward of these brethren has\nbecome converted (lit. \"entered into the current\"); he is no longer\nliable to be born to a state of suffering, but is assured of eternal\nsalvation.\n\n[Footnote 5: _S. B. E._ vol. xl.]\n\n\"Then the Blessed One addressed the brethren and said, 'Behold now,\nbrethren, I exhort you,' saying, 'Decay is inherent in all things\nthat have come into being. Work out your salvation with diligence!'\n\n\"This was the last word of the Tathagata!\"\n\nHis death or Nirvana forms the era of Buddhist chronology, and the\ndate has now been approximately fixed with some certainty; it took\nplace somewhere in the decade 482-472 B.C.\n\nIs Buddhism a Revolt against Brahmanism?--Before proceeding to\ndiscuss the religion to which this somewhat monkish narrative forms\nthe preface, it is necessary to say a few words on the relation which\nthat religion is now supposed to hold to the general history of\nIndian piety. It was customary, till recently, to regard Buddha as a\ngreat reformer, and his religion as a great revolt against that which\nit found prevailing in India. He is credited with having preached\natheism as a reaction against the burdensome worship of too many\ngods, with having instituted a great social movement consisting in\nthe abolition of caste, with having openly denied the authority of\nthe Vedas, till then unchallenged, and with having rebuked the pride\nof Brahmanism by making his order of mendicants the representatives\nof his religion. None of these assertions can now be upheld. Instead\nof having been a tremendous reaction against Brahmanism it is seen\nthat Buddhism was the natural outgrowth of that system. The closer\nknowledge of both, gained by the opening up of the sacred books of\nIndia, tends to show that much that was formerly thought distinctive\nof Buddhism was in reality inherited from Brahmanism. We saw in\ndealing with the earlier form of Indian religion that a form of piety\nhad been struck out in it which made the ascetic independent of\nsacrifice, priesthood, even of the gods, all save the one God who is\nin all things. In that phase of Indian religion the authority of the\nVedas had already been impugned, an inner discipline had taken the\nplace of outward worship, the saint had learned to forsake the world.\nThis turn of religious thought produced all the phenomena of Buddhism\nbefore the period of Gautama. The sannyasin (_vide sup._, chapter\nxix.) of Brahmanism is also called bhikku, mendicant; the rules of\nthe older ascetics are closely similar to those of the Buddhist monk;\ntheir very outfit, their cloak and alms-bowl, are the same.\n\nA circumstance which shows very clearly how far Buddhism was from\nbearing the character of a revolt, is the occurrence at the same time\nand in the same district of India of another movement of a very\nsimilar nature. Jainism is an Indian religion so like Buddhism as to\nhave been considered by many to be a sect of the latter. It also has\nan order of monks with robes and with a rule like those of the\nBuddhist fraternity. It also has a human founder on whom many of the\nsame titles are conferred as on Gautama, and who is afterwards\ndeified and worshipped. Mahavira, the founder of Jainism, is, like\nGautama, the son of a royal house; and the Jainist and the Buddhist\nlegend have many features in common. Was the legend of Mahavira,\nthen, a sectarian version of the legend of Gautama, did no such\nperson exist, at least as the founder of a religious body? So it was\nformerly considered; but it has now been discovered that the Buddhist\nscriptures themselves bear witness to the actual existence of\nMahavira in the lifetime of Gautama, who once had an encounter with\nhim and confuted him. It appears then that two similar movements were\ngoing on close together at the same time. They were independent of\neach other; the two rules differ in important particulars. Jainism\ncarries to a much greater length than Buddhism the \"ahimsa,\" or\nprohibition of the destruction of life; the Jainists practise\nausterities which Buddhism discards, and in the philosophies of the\ntwo systems there are far-reaching discrepancies. On the other hand,\nboth Buddhism and Jainism borrow from Brahmanism most of their\npractices and institutions; both are developments of the way of\nsalvation struck out not by Brahmans alone, but by men of other\ncastes and other views, when faith in the old national gods was\ngrowing dim.\n\nWe now proceed to discuss the Buddhist system, taking it as it\nappears in the early books, which tell us at least what was believed\nin the fourth century B.C. to have been the ideas and intentions of\nthe founder. The following is the formula in which the convert\nexpressed his desire to be admitted to the order: \"I take shelter in\nthe Buddha, I take shelter in the Dhamma (doctrine), I take shelter\nin the Samgha (order).\"\n\n1. The Buddha.--This confession of faith is directed to a triad of\nwhich the Buddha is the first member. Now the title Buddha was not\ninvented by Buddhism, but belongs to earlier Indian thought, which\nheld that from time to time, in a specially favoured age, an\nEnlightened One and Enlightener, an omniscient and perfect teacher,\nvisited the world. Of these there had been in former ages\ntwenty-four, and the followers of Gautama held him to be the\ntwenty-fifth, but not the last. The application to Gautama of this\ntitle removed him, to the believer, from the ranks of ordinary men,\nand was the signal for a constantly increasing exaltation of his\nperson. In adhering to the Buddha, therefore, the convert is not\nbowing to a mere man, but to one in whom a new type of deity is on\nthe way to be realised. He is a man; there is a record of his human\nlife, in which he made a great renunciation, abandoning, out of\ncompassion for men's sufferings, a position of lordly ease for that\nof the mendicant. In this way he is a saviour not too exalted for the\npious heart to love and follow. Having found out in his own\nexperience the way of peace, and opened up that way for others, he is\na pattern and an encouragement as well as a lawgiver to the earnest\nsoul; and the personal relation which may thus be enjoyed with the\nfounder is one great secret of the success of the religion. On the\nother hand, he is more than a man. The belief grew up very early that\nhe was not born in the ordinary way, but that his birth had been his\nown voluntary act, and that his great renunciation consisted in his\nchoosing, out of compassion for men, to enter human life and to bear\nthe burden of its sufferings. In this way a religion which originally\nhad no gods and no worship began to supply itself with these. Some\nscholars hold that it was among the lay community, among men not\nthoroughly initiated into Buddhist thought, and failing to find in\nthe new faith what their former religions had afforded, that the\ndeification of the Buddha and the worship of him began; it may\ncertainly be doubted whether the religion could have lived long or\nspread far if these deficiencies had not been early supplied.\n\n2. The Doctrine.--The life of the founder gives us the key to his\ndoctrine. We see at once that that doctrine was not negative but\npositive and constructive. Neither was it socially of a revolutionary\ncharacter, nor did it deny any part of the existing religion. We\nnever read that Gautama's teaching was assailed by the Brahmans as\nunsound; it was centuries after his death that antagonism broke out\nbetween the order and the upholders of other systems. Nor again did\nthe teaching put forward a new philosophy. On certain points which we\nshall notice there is a development of thought in it; but this was\nnot obtruded.\n\nIn fact the doctrine is not a speculation at all, but a way of\nsalvation which is preached for its own sake, and carefully guarded\nfrom being mixed up with speculative or religious controversy. The\nBuddha is one who has found out a new way to be saved, and he comes\nforward to preach what he has discovered, and that alone. Other\nmatters he leaves as they are. \"All his discourses savour of\nredemption as all the sea is salt.\" Other men may draw inferences as\nto the relation his doctrine bears to the position of the Brahmans,\nor to the sacrifices, or to existing beliefs; he does not draw these\ninferences, he feels no need to do so.\n\nThe doctrine professes to be an answer to a definite problem--the\nproblem of pain. It is the most characteristic thing about both the\nfounder and the doctrine, that they start from the universal\nexistence of pain, to seek a remedy for it; they are inspired\ntherefore from the first by a dark view of human life, and by the\nsentiment of compassion. It was the impression made on the young\nprince, of the general prevalence of suffering, that drove him forth\nfrom the palace to be a sannyasin or devotee. In a striking sermon he\nuses the figure of fire to indicate how universal is the rule of pain\nin all parts of nature and of human life. \"All is burning; the eye is\nburning, and all it looks on and all it remembers of what it has\nseen\"; so it is with each of the senses, so also with the mind. The\nfire is that of passion, of malice, of illusion, of birth, of age, of\ndeath, of pain, despondency, and despair. But the nature of the\ncomplaint from which man suffers, and also the remedy for it, are\ndescribed most clearly in the \"Four Noble Truths\" set forth in the\nopening sermon at Benares. In these memorable utterances the teacher\nexpresses himself according to the rules of the medical art, first\nsetting forth the nature of the disease, then its cause, then how it\ntakes end, and lastly, the means to be adopted in order that it may\ndo so.\n\n1. The Noble Truth of _Suffering_. Birth is suffering, decay is\nsuffering, illness is suffering, death is suffering. Presence of\nobjects we hate is suffering, separation from objects we love is\nsuffering, not to obtain what we desire is suffering. Briefly, the\nfivefold clinging to existence is suffering.\n\n2. The Noble Truth of the _Cause of Suffering_. Thirst that leads to\nrebirth, accompanied by pleasure and lust, finding its delight here\nand there. This thirst is threefold, namely, thirst for pleasure,\nthirst for existence, thirst for prosperity.\n\n3. The Noble Truth of the _Cessation of Suffering_. It ceases with\nthe complete cessation of this thirst, a cessation which consists in\nthe absence of every passion, with the abandoning of this thirst,\nwith the deliverance from it, with the destruction of desire.\n\n4. The Noble Truth of the _Path which leads to the Cessation of\nSuffering_. The holy eightfold Path; that is to say, Right Belief,\nRight Aspiration, Right Speech, Right Conduct, Right Means of\nLivelihood, Right Endeavour, Right Memory, Right Meditation.\n\nIn these statements there are some things which we can readily\nunderstand, but also some things which are not so easy. It is a\nthought with which Christians are familiar, that desire is the parent\nof all sorts of pain and disappointment, that the assertion of the\nself, the putting forward of personal wishes and claims, involves\nsuffering. And we read in the Gospels that the way to escape from\nsuch suffering is to cease from desire, no longer to be anxious about\nwhat this world can give us or take from us, and not to lay up\ntreasures. Buddhist doctrine has its moral basis in the perception of\nthe vanity of all human effort and desire, and in the conviction that\nthe true riches for man cannot consist in any of those goods to which\nthe heart naturally clings. Where that perception does not exist,\nwhere the first of the Noble Truths is not accepted as beyond all\nquestion, Buddhism can have no hold. So far the doctrine is easy to\nfollow. But in the second of the Truths we find that the cause of\nsuffering is sought in the history of the human person as Indian\nthought conceives it. Man suffers because he has been born again, has\nsuffered a rebirth, and the cause of his rebirth is the thirst which\nhas been felt or even nourished in a previous existence. The thought\nthat suffering is due to desire is not presented simply, as it is in\nour Gospels, but in connection with a doctrine of man's life and of\nthe connection of one generation with another, which is quite strange\nto us, but apart from which primitive Buddhism held that its doctrine\nof suffering could not be understood. The Buddha, after discovering\nthe doctrine, is at first in doubt whether or not he will preach it;\nand the cause of his doubt is that he is not sure if men will be able\nto understand the law of causality and the chain of existence, on\nwhich he himself meditated a whole night after his enlightenment, and\nhis discovery of which he regards as a great part of his achievement.\nThis chain of causation is stated in a long series of asserted\nprocesses, in which the connection between one generation and\nanother, and the transmission from life to life of the melancholy\nheritage of desire and sorrow, is obscurely and enigmatically traced.\nThe beginning of all is ignorance (of the four truths); from\nignorance proceed the \"samkharas\" or forms of production, from these\nin turn consciousness, the senses, contact, sensation, thirst, and so\non to birth and the miseries of life. Suffering is destroyed by\ntracing this sequence over again in a negative way, so that, the\nfirst member of it being destroyed, each subsequent member is\ndestroyed in turn.\n\nIt is no wonder that the founder doubted whether this doctrine of\ncausation would be generally understood; for it is in fact an attempt\nto reconcile two opposite views of the nature of the human person. In\nthe first place we find in early Buddhism the thought that there is\nno such thing as a self in the human being; a man is made up of\nvarious bundles of attributes and sensations called _skandhas_, but\nhe himself is none of these. There is no persistent substratum of a\nself under these activities and forms, any more than there is a\ncarriage in addition to the wheels, shafts, nails, etc., of which a\ncarriage is composed. The Buddhist is called on to give up the belief\nin a permanent ego; only where the various parts come together is the\nman there. This is the well-known denial of the soul in this\nreligion; the soul is nothing but the \"name and form\" of a chance\ncollocation of elements. It is hard to know where this doctrine came\nfrom; Kern says it is derived from the science of dissection, others\ncompare it with the doctrine of Heraclitus, taught about the same\ntime in Greece, that all things are in constant flux, nothing\npermanent. The last words of the Master assert that decay is\nuniversal; and the doctrine of the skandhas is a corollary from that\nprinciple; if all the elements of which the human person is made up\nare in process of decay, then the self cannot be a substantial and\npersistent thing. That doctrine, however, does not go well together\nwith the belief in the universality and inexorableness of suffering.\nIf there is no self, must not consciousness come to an end when the\nelements fall asunder which chance has brought together, and must not\nthe hour of death be also the hour of complete emancipation? This,\nhowever, it was impossible to hold in India at the time of Gautama;\nthe belief in transmigration was too firmly fixed, he never thought\nof disputing it. That belief indeed is what chiefly makes the\nsuffering of the world so lamentable. To Indian eyes the pain\nactually in the world was magnified a hundred-fold by the dark\nimagination of its connection with the past and with the future. What\na man suffered was the result of acts done in many former lives, all\nspent in the vain misery of desire; and the sad prospect was extended\nbefore him that death would not end his pains, but that he would be\nborn again and again to suffer ever anew so long as desire continued.\nBut if this is the case, then the soul would seem to be a durable and\npersistent thing which is able to go through many lives and much\nsuffering without being brought to an end. On the theory of\ntransmigration the soul is not a mere shadow-name of an aggregation\nof qualities, but the one durable thing which survives when all that\nis accidental and temporary falls away from it. The doctrine of the\nSkandhas and that of transmigration are thus opposed, and the\ndoctrine of the _nidanas_ or the chain of causation is the bridge\nwhich satisfied Gautama's own mind, but which he was doubtful about\npresenting to others, to bring them into harmony. He aimed at showing\nby his catalogue of these obscure processes how the actions done in a\nlife set up a tendency to a corresponding existence in another life\nwhich begins after the former one ends. Though there is no soul to be\ntransmitted, the moral effects of former lives are transmitted to\ntheir successors.\n\nThe essential doctrine of the Buddha, however, is determined by the\nbelief in transmigration. His cry of triumph at the time of his\nenlightenment is to the effect that the long series of suffering\nexistences through which he has passed has now come to an end, and\nthat he will not be born again. And what he preaches with constant\niteration is the misery of this awful succession of births to renewal\nof suffering, and the infinite blessedness of escaping from this\ncycle. The disciple, when converted, is to be able to say: \"Hell is\ndestroyed for me, and rebirth as an animal or a ghost or in any place\nof woe. I am converted, I am no longer liable to be reborn in a state\nof suffering, and am assured of eternal salvation.\"\n\nNow it rests with a man's own acts to end his sufferings. The chain\nof causation which ends with suffering begins with ignorance. The\nignorance which is meant is that of the four noble truths, of the way\nof salvation. Let a man cease from ignorance, let him accept the\nNoble Truths and the insight they convey into the cause of suffering,\nthen by ceasing to thirst, or to burn, or in our own language by\nturning his mind away from all desire, believing that what he does\nwill be effective for his salvation, he sets up a chain of causation\nin an opposite direction, and having destroyed ignorance he may rest\nassured that he has destroyed suffering too and is in the right way.\nThe burden he has inherited he will not need to carry any farther,\nbut will, when he dies, lay down for ever.\n\nWhen we look at the fourth Noble Truth, which tells what a man has to\ndo in order to obtain this salvation, we are at first surprised.\nAfter the deep earnestness with which the nature of the disease and\nthe cause and cure of the disease have been stated, we expect that\nstronger practical measures will be asked for than these eight forms\nof moderation. Christianity speaks of cutting off the right hand,\nplucking out the right eye, in order to cut off desire: and the\nBrahmanic method of union with the Deity was, as we have seen, that\nof the most extreme self-mortification united with contemplation.\nThis Brahmanic method, the _yoga_ by which the devotee sought to\nescape from all the accidents of being and to make himself one with\nthe great Self, the Buddha had tried for six years; but he had given\nit up for a year when the hour of his enlightenment struck, and he\nexplicitly condemns for others the path he had found unprofitable for\nhimself. It is one of two extremes, both to be avoided, \"The one\nextreme is a life devoted to pleasures and lusts; this is degrading,\nsensual, vulgar, profitless; the other is a life given to\nmortifications; this is painful, ignoble, and profitless. By avoiding\nthese two extremes the Tathagata has gained the knowledge of the\nMiddle Path, which leads to insight, wisdom, calm, to Nirvana.\" The\nway, therefore, to escape from the Karma, the moral retribution which\nworks inexorably in one life the result stored up in previous lives,\nis that of a careful and unintermitted self-discipline, which does\nnot run to extremes, but practices, with perfectly clear purpose and\nself-possession, the needful virtues mentioned in the fourth of the\nNoble Truths. What are these? There is to be--\n\n  1. Right belief, without superstition or delusion.\n\n  2. Right aspiration, after such things as the thoughtful and\n     earnest man sets store by.\n\n  3. Right speech, speech that is friendly and sincere.\n\n  4. Right conduct, conduct that is peaceable, honourable, and pure.\n\n  5. Right means of livelihood, _i.e._ a pursuit which does not\n     involve the taking or injuring of life.\n\n  6. Right endeavour, _i.e._ self-restraint and watchfulness.\n\n  7. Right memory, _i.e._ presence of mind, not forgetting at any\n     time what one ought to remember; and\n\n  8. Right meditation, _i.e._ earnest occupation with the riddles of\n     life.\n\nThis is the path; there are four stages of it--\n\n  1. The stage of him who has entered the path.\n\n  2. The stage of him who has yet to return once to life.\n\n  3. The stage of him who returns not again, but may be born again as\n     a superior being; and\n\n  4. The stage of the worthy, holy one, the _Arahat_, who is free\n     from desire for existence, and also from pride and\n     self-righteousness, and who is saved and has obtained holiness,\n     even in this life.\n\nAn Arahat is not equal to a Buddha; the former is himself saved, but\nthe perfect Buddha is able by his perfect knowledge to save others.\nOf Buddhas, however, there are not many. One becomes an Arahat by a\nlife of strenuous and untiring discipline. Ten fetters are to be\nbroken by which a man is kept from freedom; self-deception is one of\nthem, trust in sacrifice another, and the list embraces both sensual\nand intellectual weaknesses. One must watch and be sober; every act,\nhowever trivial, is to be done with full self-consciousness and\nearnestness. One must remember that he is engaged in a great and a\nhard work, and must resolutely \"swim upstream,\" estimating at its\nproper value every affection and temptation that would hold him back.\nThe body is to be contemned, and all natural ties; emotion is to be\nuprooted from the heart so that the proper state of entire calm and\nundisturbedness may be maintained. Then one is an Arahat, a true\nBrahman. This manner of life requires withdrawal from the world; the\ntrue salvation can only be attained by him who has left his home for\nthe houseless life. But Buddhism has also a general moral code for\nthose who have not taken this step; the keeping of it will not save\nthem directly; from the life they are now leading that is impossible,\nbut it is a beginning; it will make it easier for them to become\nArahats and attain salvation in some future existence. For all it is\ngood to be free from desire; as all desire contains in itself a germ\nof death, there is no approach to salvation except in this direction.\n\nBuddhist Morality.--Towards fellow-men Buddhist morality is based on\nthe notion of the equality of all; respect is to be paid to all\nliving beings. The five rules of righteousness which are binding on\nall followers of the Buddha are:\n\n  1. Not to kill any living being.\n\n  2. Not to take that which is not given.\n\n  3. To refrain from adultery.\n\n  4. To speak no untruth.\n\n  5. To abstain from all intoxicating liquors.\n\nTo these are added five more for members of the order, who are also\nrequired to refrain from all sexual intercourse, viz.:\n\n  1. Not to eat after mid-day.\n\n  2. Not to be present at dancing, singing, music, or plays.\n\n  3. Not to use wreaths, scents, ointments, or personal ornaments.\n\n  4. Not to use a high or a broad bed.\n\n  5. To possess no silver or gold.\n\nThese commandments, like those of the Decalogue, are negative in\nform; but in the Buddhist scriptures a positive moral ideal is\ninculcated on all, which is grave and attractive in its character,\nand is sustained by a strong though quiet enthusiasm. We find here a\ndelicate conscientiousness as to the relations to be cultivated with\none's fellow-men; the widest toleration is enjoined, a toleration\nextending to all beings, to all opinions. Hatred is to be repaid by\nlove, life is to be filled with kindness and compassion. The\nDhammapada and the Sutta-nipata deserve to be read by all who care\nfor the unseen riches of the soul. By their simple earnestness, their\nquaint use of parable and metaphor, and their mingling of the\nhomeliest things with the highest truths, these books take rank among\nthe most impressive of the religious books of the world. We give only\na few jewels from this treasury.\n\nFrom the Dhammapada.--Earnestness is the path of immortality\n(Nirvana), thoughtlessness the path of death. Those who are in\nearnest do not die, those who are thoughtless are as if dead already.\n\nAll that we are is the result of what we have thought; it is founded\non what we have thought, it is made up of what we have thought. If a\nman speaks or acts with a pure thought, happiness follows him, like a\nshadow that never leaves him.\n\nBy oneself evil is done, by oneself one suffers; by oneself evil is\nleft undone, by oneself one is purified. Purity and impurity belong\nto oneself; no one can purify another.\n\nFrom the Sutta-nipata.--To live in a suitable country, to have done\ngood deeds in a former existence, and a thorough study of oneself,\nthis is the highest blessing.\n\nAs a mother at the risk of her life watches over her own child, her\nonly child, so also let every one cultivate a boundless friendly mind\ntowards all beings.\n\nA Bhikku who has turned away from desire and attachment, and is\npossessed of understanding in this world, has already gone to the\nimmortal place, the unchangeable state of Nirvana.\n\nNirvana.--Our account of the doctrine would appear incomplete if we\ndid not attempt to answer the question, What is Nirvana? It is, as\nthe last extract shows, the state of salvation in Buddhism. As we\nhave seen, it is the condition of the man who has escaped from the\nseries of rebirths, and will never be born again. It is attained even\nin this life by the Arahat, in whom all desire and restlessness have\ncome to an end. On the other hand, it is said of such an one that he\nenters Nirvana when he dies, as if it were a state not of this life,\nbut of the period beyond. Thus it has been much debated whether the\nBuddhist (or rather Indian, for the notion is not peculiar to\nBuddhism) Nirvana is extinction, annihilation, of which the quenching\nof desire in this life is the prelude, or if it is a state of\nnegative or quiescent blessedness, on which the saint can enter here\nand now, but which is only made perfect when he dies. But there are\ntwo Nirvanas;--that of entire passionlessness attained in this life,\nand the consummate Nirvana entered at death. The saint does not need\nto wait for death for his redemption, nor must he hasten his death in\norder to enjoy it fully; Buddha, by example and by precept, forbids\nany such anticipation. Death seals that which was already won, there\nis no return from the Nirvana of death to any further life. This,\nhowever, does not amount to an assertion that the dead Arahat has no\nlife or knowledge in the beyond; he is freed from desire, but whether\nhis consciousness is altogether extinguished, Buddhism does not\ndecide, and regards as a vain speculation.\n\nNo Gods.--We shall speak afterwards of this view of redemption, which\nis the key to the nature of the Buddhist religion. We remark here\nthat it is a redemption man achieves by his own efforts, without any\noutward prop or aid. In this system there is no occasion for any\npriests or sacrifices, for any prayers, or for any gods. There is no\nritual, because there is no object of worship, there is no sin in the\nsense of offending a higher being. The gods are denied not because of\nany speculative doubt of their existence, but because in that inner\nworld of moral effort which man has come to feel so supremely real\nand important, they have no part to play. As all the gods faded away\nin Indian speculation before Brahma, so Brahma's own turn has come to\nfade away. The Buddhist speaks of the gods as if they existed, and he\nmakes no attack on the sacrifices; but no living god fills his heart.\nThe Buddha is greater than all the gods; his teaching is for the\nbenefit of gods as well as men. But the Buddha is not an object of\nworship. If the Buddhist can be said to worship any higher power, it\nis the moral order which never fails to reward men according to the\ndeeds done in this or former existences. That is for him a real and\ntremendous, though impersonal power, and in contemplating it he may\nbe said to worship after a fashion. But he has no aid to look for\nfrom any power in heaven or earth in working out his salvation.\nBuddhism is the most autosoteric of all religions; it declares more\nuncompromisingly than any other, that man must save himself by his\nown efforts, and that no one can possibly stand in his place or\nrelieve him of any part of his great task. All that any one, even the\nBuddha, can do for another, is to enlighten him, to open his eyes to\nthe true knowledge, and show him the narrow path on which he must\nthenceforth walk.\n\n3. The Order.--There were monks before Buddhism. That religion made\nits appearance when Indian thought was at the stage of growth at\nwhich monastic communities may be expected to arise. When religion\nhas ceased to be regarded as the affair of the nation or the tribe,\nand is cherished as the affair of the individual, when the mind turns\nfrom the sacrifices and ritual of public religion to cultivate\nrelations with a power known chiefly in the heart and soul, and when\nreligious duty has thus come to be recognised as a boundless and\nall-embracing thing, not a service the hands and feet can discharge,\nbut the effort, never ending, still beginning, to make the whole\npersonality with all its acts and aims conform to the ideal, then it\nis that men who are living for religion seek for such aid as they can\ngive each other, and find it in an order and a discipline. The rules\nof the Buddhist Samgha or order are extant, and so are the rules of\nthe contemporary Jainist fraternity. The Samgha resembled the\nFranciscan more than the other great Christian orders. The Bhikku on\njoining it abandoned his family and property, assumed the yellow robe\nand other scanty properties of the character, and lived thenceforth\nby begging, and in strict subjection to the rules, in which every\ndetail of his food, his clothing, his residence, and his daily walk\nand conversation, were laid down. The two great objects of the\nsociety were mutual help in the religious life and the preaching of\nthe doctrine. Under the first head come the frequent meetings of\nmonks and the confessions they make to each other according to a\nfixed form. There is no vow of obedience; the monk obeys the law, not\nthe human authority. In preaching they are to go one by one, and they\nare to preach to all. To all who would hear it was the gate open to\nthis salvation. Here the Buddhist neglect of caste comes in. Buddhism\nmakes no general or formal declaration of the equality of all men,\nnor is there any attack on the Brahman caste or any exaltation of the\nlower castes. The order drew its recruits at first from the ranks of\nthe Brahmans. But the impelling motive of the new religion was\ncompassion, and genuine compassion is not to be restrained in\nartificial limits. The salvation preached was fitted for all men. The\ndisease to be cured was one from which all suffer, and the cure was\none which all could at least begin to lay hold of. Thus Buddhism was\nfitted to break through the barriers of caste, and to gather into one\nreligious community men of all castes alike. In the community, it was\nheld, these distinctions disappeared. Not birth but conduct there\nmade the true Brahman. The universalist tendency of the religion also\nfitted it to spread to other lands. It was not limited by anything in\nits teaching to the soil of India, nor to the territory of any\nparticular set of gods. So wide indeed is its toleration, that a man\nmay embrace it without giving up the faith in which he lived before.\nOne can add it without incongruity to one's former beliefs and\npractices. The believer in Shang-ti can be a Buddhist as well as the\nbeliever in Brahma.[6] The absence of any hierarchy or centralised\norganisation enabled it to spread freely, and the very meagreness of\nits doctrine, and its freedom from ritual, were also in its favour.\n\n[Footnote 6: Millions of Buddhists in China and Japan are also\nadherents of the other religions of these countries.]\n\nBuddhism made Popular.--Buddhism proved able to spread over many\nlands because it was so simple, and in its essence so moral and so\nbroadly human. But, like other faiths which have spread to many\nlands, it assumed very different forms in different countries, and\nthe later form is often very different from the early simplicity.\nEven at the outset it was not free from a strong infusion of magic;\nthe Arahat, like the Brahmanic ascetic before him, was believed to\nobtain influence over the gods by his virtues, and thus a claim to\nsupernatural power is brought in, which agrees but ill with the\nethical doctrine. The religion, which at first ignored the gods and\nbade each man trust to his own efforts for his highest good, became,\nere long, what a popular religion at the stage of progress prevailing\nat that time necessarily was, namely, a worship of superior beings\nand a method of obtaining benefits from them. The national gods were\ndiscarded, but the deification of the founder early furnished a being\nwho could be worshipped. Legend grew luxuriantly round his birth and\nearly career; and he obtained the rank of the greatest of all the\ngods. Former Buddhas who had lived in former ages still lived as\ngods; and the divine family, being once founded, admitted of various\nadditions; even a popular deity, such as Indra, could be joined to\nthe growing circle. The chief scenes of the life of the founder\nbecame holy places and objects of pilgrimage, where relics were\nexposed for adoration. The growth of legend and of magic proceeded\nmore rapidly, and went to greater lengths, in Northern than in\nSouthern Buddhism; but in the land of its birth, too, Buddhism proved\nunable to serve as a working religion without additions and\nmodifications entirely foreign to its true character. The profession\nof Buddhism was combined even with the savage worship of the\nnon-Aryan tribes; Siva was identified with Buddha and then worshipped\ninstead of him, as also was Vishnu, and the perversion and\ndegradation of the religion prepared for its expulsion from the\ncountry of its birth. That expulsion was probably brought about more\nimmediately by the advance of Mohammedanism in India, and took place\nin the period of the early Middle Ages. We cannot speak here of the\nstrange guise Buddhism has assumed in the north of India, notably in\nTibet. The Lamaism of that country, with its perpetual living\nincarnation of the divine Buddha in a succession of human\nrepresentatives, its hierarchical church strongly resembling in many\nof its features the Church of Rome, and the prayer-flags and wheels\nfor the mechanical discharge of religious acts, have long been the\nwonder of the world.\n\nConclusion.--It is not from what Buddhism is now in any of the\ncountries where it flourishes, and where it has votaries who profess\nother religions also, that we can judge of what it really is, or\nestimate its value as a product of the human mind. It is to early\nBuddhism that we must look for this. What are we to judge of this\nreligion without gods, and based on the assertion that all life is\nsuffering, and that the chief good is altogether to escape from life?\nIt is not true to characterise it as a religion in which there is no\njoy, and which deliberately refuses to have anything to do with joy.\nThe Arahat, in whom desire is vanquished, and who has no further\nbirth to anticipate, is filled with a deep joy and triumph as of a\nvictor who has conquered every foe; and those who are less advanced\nin the path yet have their share in this enthusiasm, and are inspired\nby it to continue the struggle. Still Buddhism is a sad religion. It\narrives in India when the Deity there believed in has deserted the\nworld, and tells man he is alone in it. There is no one to help him,\nno one to assure him that the good cause in a wider sense--a cause\nextending beyond his own personal life--is destined to succeed; there\nis no upholder of any moral order beyond that which works itself out\nin each individual experience. The result is that the believer does\nnot trouble himself about the world, but only about his own personal\nsalvation. This religion is not a social force, it aims not at a\nKingdom of God to be built up by the united efforts of multitudes of\nthe faithful, but only at saving individual souls, which in the act\nof being saved are removed beyond all activity and all contact with\nthe world. Buddhism, therefore, is not a power which makes actively\nfor civilisation. It is a powerful agent for the taming of passion\nand the prevention of vagrant and lawless desires, it tends,\ntherefore, towards peace. But it offers no stimulus to the\nrealisation of the riches which are given to man in his own nature:\nit checks rather than fosters enterprise, it favours a dull\nconformity to rule rather than the free cultivation of various gifts.\nIts ideal is to empty life of everything active and positive, rather\nthan to concentrate energy on a strong purpose. It does not train the\naffections to virtuous and harmonious action, but denies to them all\naction and consigns them to extinction. This condemnation it has\nincurred by parting with that highest stimulus to human virtue and\nendeavour, which lies in the belief in a living God. By so doing it\nceased to fulfil the office of a religion for men, and though, for\nhistorical purposes, we may class it among the religions of the\nworld, a system which leaves its adherents free not to worship at\nall, or to find satisfaction for their spiritual instincts in the\nworship of beings whom it regards with indifference, comes short of\nthe notion of religion, and is not properly entitled to that name.\n\n\nBOOKS RECOMMENDED\n\nMonier Williams, _Buddhism, in its connection with Brahmanism and\nHinduism, and in its contrast with Christianity_, 1889.\n\nRhys Davids, _Buddhism_ (S.P.C.K.).\n\nOldenberg's, _Buddha, his Life, his Doctrine and his Order_, 1882\n(out of print). (Third German Edition, 1897.)\n\nSpence Hardy, _Manual of Buddhism_, 1860.\n\nE. Hardy, _Der Buddhismus_.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXI\nPERSIA\n\n\nThe Aryans who entered India to become its dominant race came from\nCentral Asia, and left behind them there other tribes of Aryan\nculture. These tribes remained in what is called Iran, in the lands,\nthat is to say, between the Indus, the Caspian Sea, the Black Sea,\nand the Persian Gulf. It is from this region, a part of which bore in\nancient times the name of Ariana, that the word \"Aryan\" is derived.\nThe languages of this territory are akin to Sanscrit; and there is\nample evidence that before the Indian invasion the progenitors of the\nIndians and those of the Iranians dwelt together there, and enjoyed a\ncommon civilisation. If the civilisation was the same the religion\nalso was the same. How the Indo-Iranian religion was developed in\nIndia, we have seen. At first a worship of active and militant\ndeities, it became by degrees a religion of a passive type, in which\na suffering, acquiescent, and brooding humanity presented to heaven\nits needs and problems, and received a corresponding answer. The\nAryans who remained in Iran retained their active and practical\ndisposition. While by no means wanting in sensitiveness and\nflexibility of mind, they were less given to speculation and more to\na robust morality than their Indian kinsmen. It has to be noted that\nwhile the religion of India has not influenced Europe in any manifest\ndegree until the present century, that of Persia has contributed in a\nmarked way to form the world of thought in which we dwell.\n\nSources.--The views generally current about the ancient religion of\nPersia are derived from late Greek writers, whose accounts will be\nnoticed at the end of this chapter. A truer knowledge is now\npossible, since the sacred books of the religion are now open to the\nworld. They were only obtained from the Parsis, who keep up their\nancient religion on the soil of India, during last century, and the\nstudy of them has been very laborious and difficult, and has given\nrise to great controversies which are not yet settled. These ancient\nbooks are furnished with Eastern translations and commentaries. Is\nthe Western scholar to place himself under the guidance of these,\nwhich no doubt are part of the historical tradition of the religion,\nor may he claim that he is himself in as good a position as the\nOriental commentator for understanding the original meaning of the\ntexts; and will he best interpret them by comparing them with the\nVedas? What is their age; in which of the lands of Iran were they\nwritten; was any part of them written by Zoroaster, or is Zoroaster\nto be regarded as an historical personage at all? On all these\nquestions and on many others, scholars are not yet agreed; and while\nso much is uncertain about the books, there must also be great\nuncertainty about the history and the very nature of the religion. In\nwhat follows we are guided mainly by the scholars who have taken\ncharge of the volumes connected with Persia in the _Sacred Books of\nthe East_.[1] In the last of these volumes (xxxi.) a new clue is\ngiven to the subject, of which we shall gladly avail ourselves.\n\n[Footnote 1: Zend-Avesta, _S. B. E._, vols. iv., xxiii., xxxi.]\n\nThe sacred books of Persia are known by the name of \"Zend-Avesta,\"\nwhich is an incorrect expression; we ought to say Avesta and Zend.\n\"Avesta,\" like the kindred word \"Veda,\" signifies knowledge, and the\nword \"Zend\" denotes here not the language of that name, but the\n\"commentary\" afterwards added to the original knowledge or text. The\ncommentary is not written in the Zend language, but in Pahlavi or\nPersian. The Avesta, which is written in the older Zend, the sacred\nlanguage of Persia, is, like other Bibles, a collection of books\nwritten in different ages, and even, it may be, in different lands.\nThe books were brought together into one only at some period after\nthe Christian era. The later legends as to the supernatural\ncommunication to Zoroaster of the earlier books need not detain us;\nwe must notice, however, that the preserved books of Persian religion\nare held to be no more than the scanty ruins of an extensive\nliterature. The Avesta consisted originally of 21 Nosks or books, and\nmost of these were destroyed by Alexander when he invaded the East;\nonly one Nosk was preserved entire. As we have it, the Avesta is a\nliturgical work, it contains some legends and some ancient hymns, as\nwell as a good deal of law, but its prevailing character is that of a\nservice-book, and it is to this that its partial preservation both at\nthe invasion of Alexander, and at that of the Mohammedans in a later\ncentury, is probably due. It consists of three parts. The oldest is\nthe Yasna, a collection of liturgies, which admit and indeed invite\ncomparison with those of early Christianity: along with these are\nfound the Gathas or hymns, the only part of the Avesta composed in\nverse, and written in an older dialect. The Visperad is a collection\nof litanies for the sacrifice; and the Vendidad is a code of early\nlaw, but contains also various religious legends. Besides these\nworks, which constitute the Avesta proper, there is the Khorda (or\nsmall) Avesta containing devotions for various times of the day, for\nthe days of the month, and for the religious year; these are for the\nuse not of the priests alone but of all the faithful, and many of\nthem are still so used.\n\nThe Contents of the Zend-Avesta are Composite.--In these works the\nstudent soon observes that he has before him not one religious system\nonly but several. In one place we find a worship of one god, as if\nthere were no others to be considered; some of the litanies on the\nother hand contain lengthy and elaborate lists of objects of worship.\nIn some parts the religion is personal and immediate; in others it is\npriestly. Parsism is often called fire-worship, and the elements of\nearth and water also obtain extreme sanctity in it, but of this also\nthere is in the oldest books little trace. The variety in the\nliterature no doubt reflects a variety in the religion of Iran. Iran\nin fact had not one religion but several, and thus the problem is to\ntrace how these successively entered into contact with Mazdeism or\nZoroastrianism, which is the religion most native to Iran, and were\nembodied in it. The different religions belonged to a certain extent\nto different provinces. We know that Persia, the conqueror of Media,\nwas conquered in turn by the Median religion; we also know that the\nreligion of the Persian kings as read in their inscriptions[2] does\nnot correspond to any of the religious positions held in the Avesta.\nThe Magi, from whom also the religion as a whole derives one of its\nnames, belonged to Media and passed from there to greater power in\nIran as a whole. From the Scythians on the north and from Babylonia\non the south, ideas and practices were imported; and in these and\nother ways, forms of religion arose as different from the faith of\nZoroaster as later forms of Christianity from the simplicity of\nChrist, yet looking to him as their founder and the giver of their\nlaw.\n\n[Footnote 2: _Records of the Past_, i. 107.]\n\nZoroaster.--We begin with the teaching of Zoroaster. Dr. E. Meyer in\nhis _Geschichte des Alterthums_, vol. i., and Mr. Darmesteter in his\nadmirable introduction to the Avesta (_S. B. E._ vol. iv.) both treat\nZoroaster as a mythical personage, a figure-head of the official\nclass of the religion, who give currency to their edicts under his\nname. Weighty authorities may, however, be quoted for the historical\nreality of Zoroaster, and what appears to us most important of all,\nthe editor of the Gathas, in the _S. B. E._ vol. xxxi., departing\nfrom his collaborateur, Mr. Darmesteter, has treated these hymns,\nwhich give an account of the founder's acts and experiences when\nfirst proclaiming the true doctrine, in such a way as to produce on\nthe mind of the reader the strongest impression of the historical\nreality of the prophet and of his mission. They introduce us to a\nreligious movement actually in progress in the poet's time, a\nmovement in which a pure and lofty faith is struggling to establish\nitself against prevailing superstitions. The doctrine placed in the\nmouth of the reformer is that which is most central in Persian\nreligion; and only by such deep earnestness and devotion as is here\nascribed to him, could it have attained that position. We start,\nthen, with Zoroaster and his work; and first of all we ask what was\nhis date, where did he live, and what kind of religion did he find\nexisting in his country?\n\nThe date of Zoroaster or Zarathustra--the former is the Greek, the\nlatter the old Iranian form of the name, contracted in Persian to\nZardusht--can only be fixed very approximately. He stands at the very\nbeginning of the Avesta literature, and the developments in religion\nto which that literature testifies must have occupied a long period.\nOn the other hand no one proposes to place Zarathustra before the\ndeparture of the Indian Aryans from the Indo-Iranian stock. From such\nvague data he may be assigned perhaps to somewhere about 1400 B.C. As\nto his province, there is considerable agreement among scholars that\nhis doctrine spread from the east of Iran westwards; and though\ntradition gives him a birthplace in Media, his mission lay nearer to\nIndia, in Bactria.\n\nPrimitive Religion of Iran.--He did not preach to men unacquainted\nwith religion. Many of the religious ideas and figures of the Vedas\noccur also in Persia, and by the study of these it is possible to\nform certain inferences as to the mental history of Persia before\nZarathustra. Mithra the sun-god belongs to Persia as well as India.\nThe heaven-god known in India as Varuna grew into the principal deity\nof Persia. A fire-god, wind- and rain-gods, and the serpent hostile\nto man, on whom these made war, are common to both countries. The\ninstitution of sacrifice, in which the deities are served with\nofferings and with hymns, is markedly alike in both countries. In\nboth alike sacrifice is at first the affair not of a priesthood but\nof laymen, especially of princes, and is not confined to temples but\nis performed in the open air, on a spot judged to be suitable. The\nmost imposing sacrifice is that of the horse, and an offering of\nconstant occurrence is that of the intoxicating liquor, in India\nSoma, in Persia by a recognised transliteration Homa, which is itself\nviewed as a cosmic principle of life, and addressed as a deity. And\nin both countries alike the view of sacrifice prevails in early\ntimes, that the gods come to it to take their part in a banquet which\ntheir worshippers share with them, and that they are strengthened and\nencouraged by it.\n\nThese similarities, and others which might be mentioned, show that\nthe religion of India and that of Persia started from a common stock\nof ideas and usages. A further circumstance of great importance shows\nnot only the original identity of the two systems, but also perhaps\nhow they came to diverge from each other. Two generic titles for\ndeities occur in India. The first of these--_deva_, is said to\nsignify the bright or shining one, the second--_asura_, the living\none. Now these titles are also found in Persia; but the use of the\nterms is different in the two countries. In India both are at first\ntitles for deity, but by degrees, while \"deva\" continues to denote\nthe gods who are worshipped, \"asura\" assumes a less favourable\nmeaning, until at length it comes to stand for a second order of\nbeings, inferior to the devas, and including such powers as are\nmalignant and hostile. In Persia the fortunes of the two words are\nreversed. _Ahura_ becomes the god _par excellence_, the supreme god;\nwhile \"deva,\" the title which in India remained in honour, is in the\nAvesta that of evil gods who are not to be worshipped. In this some\nscholars consider that we may hear the watchwords of the conflict\nwhich led to the separation of the two religions; there was a schism\nbetween the followers of the Ahuras and those of the Devas, which led\nto the entire separation of the two parties. This is the latest form\nof the old view which makes Zoroastrianism the outcome of a religious\nconflict, of a reaction against the gods afterwards worshipped in\nIndia. There is no direct evidence of such a conflict, and the\ndifference we have described may be due to the natural development of\nthe Indo-Iranian religion in different sets of circumstances and\namong different peoples. Zarathustra in the Gathas finds the\nantithesis fully formed between the good and the evil deities; he\nappeals to his countrymen on that matter as one which he does not\nneed to teach them, but with which they have long been familiar. In\nspeaking of his date this has to be remembered.\n\nWe proceed now to describe from the Gathas the work and teaching of\nZarathustra. The Gathas are poems written in metres which occur also\nin the Vedas, and intended, like the Indian hymns, to be used in\nworship. The account which they furnish of the mission and the\nteaching of the sage are thus clothed in a poetical dress, and do not\nnarrate bare facts as they occurred, but the facts as interpreted and\ntreated for religious use. They are in the mouth of Zarathustra\nhimself; he writes them for use at sacrifice, and remembering how\nthey are to be rendered, he sometimes puts in the mouth of the\ncelebrants the words, \"Zarathustra and we.\" These words do not prove\nthat the hymns are not by him. As explained by Dr. Mills, the hymns\nare seen to be very fully charged with meaning and with sentiment.\nUncouth and inartistic in expression, and demanding an immense amount\nof patience and ingenuity to trace their connection of thought, they\nsurprise the reader when once he seizes their meaning, by the depth\nand spirituality of their contents, and force him to acknowledge that\nthey are a worthy document of the birth of a great religion.\n\nThe Call of Zarathustra.--The hymns give a vivid picture of that\nearly world in which the prophet lived. It was a world distracted\nwith conflict. On one side there is an agricultural community bent on\nindustry, and, like the Hindus, even at this day, valuing as most\nsacred the cattle which form their chief substance. On the other\nhand, there are men who dwell on the outskirts between the tilled\nland and the wilderness, who are constantly making raids on the\nfarms, driving off and killing the cattle for sacrifice and for food,\nand ruining the fields by destroying the irrigating works on which\ntheir fertility depends. And there is a religious difference as well\nas a difference in culture between these two sets of people. The\nagriculturists are worshippers of Ahura; the contemners of the cattle\nworship beings called in the Gathas \"daevas.\" This schism was not of\nZarathustra's making, he found it going on, and being a priest was\nentitled to come forward and seek to guide others with regard to it.\nSuch is the situation which the hymns present to us. We will try to\nstate the substance of some of those hymns. The naked words of them,\neven when we are sure of the correctness of the translation, are\nbarely intelligible without lengthy commentary; and on the other\nhand, no short statement in modern terms can convey the force and\nsolemnity of these struggling utterances. As we are dealing with the\noriginal revelation of Zarathustra, the source of the Persian\nreligion, we shall give the story with some degree of detail.\n\nThe first hymn in the arrangement presented to us in _S. B. E._ deals\nwith what we may term the call of Zarathustra. It sums up in a poetic\nand dramatic form the religious result of the movement which led him\nto come forward.\n\nThe \"Soul of the Kine\" first speaks; it is the impersonation of the\nagricultural community, to whom their cattle are most sacred. She\nraises a complaint to Ahura and Asha (the righteousness which is an\nattribute of Ahura, and like his other attributes often appears as an\nindependent person) of the insolence and highhanded devastation and\nrobbery she has to suffer. \"For whom did ye fashion me,\" she says;\n\"wherefore was I made?\" She appeals to the Immortals for instruction\nin tillage with a view to security and welfare.\n\nAhura then speaks and asks Asha what guardian has been appointed for\nthe kine to lead and to defend her; and Asha answers that no one,\nhimself free from passion and violence, could be found who was\ncapable of being an adequate guardian. The causes of these evils lie\nat the roots of the constitution of things, and therefore those\nseeking success in any enterprise must approach Ahura himself and not\nany subordinate being.\n\nZarathustra speaks, and confirms the utterances of Asha; it is in\nAhura himself that he and the kine place their confidence; to his\nwill they submit themselves; the doubts and questions arising from\ntheir outward insecurity, they refer to him.\n\nAhura speaks and answers his own question. It is true that no lord of\nthe kine is to be found, who in himself is quite equal to that\nposition, but he appoints Zarathustra as head to the agricultural\ncommunity.\n\nA chorus speaks, consisting of a company of the faithful supposed to\nbe present, or of the Ameshospends, the personified attributes of\nAhura, and praise the Lord for his bounty and for the wisdom he makes\nknown; but asks whom he has endowed with the Good Mind, or, as we\nmight say, the Holy Spirit, to make known to mortals his doctrine.\nThe call of Zarathustra, intimated in the foregoing verse, is\noverlooked, as if it were impossible that such a one as he could\nundertake the office. Ahura replies, repeating his commission to\nZarathustra, here called also by his family name of Spitama, and\npromising to establish him and make him successful in his work.\n\nThe Soul of the Kine speaks, lamenting still that no adequate lord\nhas been assigned her. Zarathustra is a feeble and pusillanimous man,\nnot one of royal state who is able to bring his purpose to effect.\nThe Ameshospends join in the cry for the true lord to appear.\n\nZarathustra then speaks, accepting the mission in an address to\nAhura, whom he entreats to send his blessings of peace and happiness,\nsince none but he can give them, and to set up in the minds of the\ndisciples of the cause that joy and that kingdom which, though it\nfirst comes inwardly, yet brings with it also all outward blessings.\nFor himself also he prays that the Good Mind and the Sovereign Power\n(another of the attributes) of the Lord may hasten to come to him and\nstrengthen him for his mission.\n\nThis poetical rendering of the call of Zarathustra is free both from\nmiraculous embellishment and from undue exaltation of the person of\nthe prophet, and forms a great contrast to later statements in the\nAvesta, where the prophet is placed in secret conclave with Ahura,\nasking him questions and receiving detailed replies which at once\nrank as revelation. In the Gathas, allowing for the theological and\npoetic form, everything is human and natural. We are strongly\nreminded of the accounts of the calls of prophets in the Old\nTestament--there is the same choice by the deity of an apparently\nweak instrument to accomplish a work urgently called for by the\ntimes, the same sense of insufficiency on the part of the prophet,\nbut the same absolute confidence on his part in the power of the\ndeity, and hence the same absolute assurance, once the mission is\naccepted, that the cause which he has been called to carry forward\nmust succeed. In many of the following Gathas the same parallel is\nstrongly impressed on the mind of the reader. The sense of weakness\nis expressed again and again--the prophet has no victorious career,\nbut is exposed to much gainsaying, which he feels acutely. Yet he\nnever doubts that his god is with him, and is working for him. To him\nhe commits his doubts and fears, of his goodness he is joyfully\nassured, and his aid he expects with confidence. He is entirely\ndevoted to Ahura and his cause, and offers himself up with his whole\npowers to work out the divine will. He will teach, he says, as long\nas he is able, till he has brought all the living to believe. He is\nconscious of a divine power working in him. Nothing in himself, he is\nstrong by the divine grace which Ahura sends him: his words have\nefficacy to keep the fiends at a distance, and to advance in men's\nminds the divine kingdom; like St. Paul he feels his message to be to\nsome a savour of life unto life, to others a savour of death unto\ndeath.\n\nThe Doctrine.--And what is the message he proclaims? It is a\nphilosophy of the origin of the world, but a philosophy the\nacceptance of which involves immediate and strenuous action. The\ndistracted condition of the world before him requires to be\nexplained, so that a remedy for it may be found; and Zarathustra\nprays, when he is about to bring forward his doctrine, that Ahura\nwould help him to explain how the material world arose. The\nexplanation when it appears is not quite new, it has been shaping\nitself already in the mind of his people, but he sets it forth as a\ndogma, and draws from it at once all its practical consequences. In\nthe third hymn of the first Gatha he solemnly brings forward his\ndoctrine before the people, and appeals to them, not as a people, but\nas individuals, each for himself, with a full sense of his\nresponsibility, to consider it, and adopt it, and act upon it. It is\nthe doctrine of dualism, not in the fully developed later form in\nwhich two personal potentates divide the universe between them from\nthe first, but as yet in a form more speculative and vague. There are\ntwo primeval principles, spirits, things, as is well known--the\nexpression is indefinite--the counterparts of each other, independent\nin their action, a better and a worse, and Zarathustra calls on his\naudience to choose between them, and not to choose as do the\nevildoers. The world, as it is, was made by the joint action of the\ntwo principles, and they also fixed the alternative fates of men, for\nthe wicked, Hell--the worst life; and for the holy, Heaven--the best\nmental state. After the creation was accomplished, the two principles\ndrew off from each other, the evil one making choice of evil and of\nevil works, and the bounteous spirit choosing righteousness, making\nhis strong seat in heaven, and taking for his own those who do good\nand who believe in him. The Daevas and their followers are incapable\nof making a just choice between the good and the evil; they have\nsurrendered themselves from the outset to the \"Worst Mind,\" the demon\nof fury, and to all evil works. (There are vague suggestions here of\na temptation and a fall, but only of the evil spirits and their\nfollowers.) From this point onwards the world is filled with a great\nstruggle. On the one side is Ahura, the only god worshipped by name\nin the Gathas. Ahura is a heaven-god, he is, in fact, the bright\nheaven, and then the good and beneficent being who dwells in\nbrightness. In the hymns he is losing his definite character and\nbecoming an abstraction, a god of dogmatics rather than of history.\nHe is the good principle personified, and as becomes a god of such\ntranscendent character, he does not act directly, but through his\nsatellites. His attributes personified, do his bidding, aid the\nsaints in spiritual ways, and prepare for the better order of things.\nOn the other hand are the Daevas with the demon of wrath, who\npropagate everywhere lies and mischief, and heap up vengeance for\nthemselves against the final judgment. For the good there is nothing\nbetter than to aid,--for they can aid, in bringing on the renovation,\ndwelling with Ahura even now, and by his attributes which work in\nthem as well as in him, reinforcing the righteous order, and\npreparing themselves to dwell where wisdom has her home. In the end\nthe Demon of the Lie will be rendered harmless and delivered up to\nRighteousness as a captive.\n\nInconsistencies.--As it happens in every such reform, the new\nteaching is not quite consistent with itself; old views are taken up\ninto the new teaching, although they do not harmonise with it; the\nspiritual way of looking at things alternates with a more worldly\nway. The following are some examples of this:--The great doctrine of\nHeaven and Hell as inner states, as being simply the best and the\nworst state of mind, is clearly announced; but the traditional view\nof future abodes of happiness and misery also appears. The\nKinvat-bridge is mentioned several times in the Gathas, over which\nIran conceived that the individual had to pass after death. If he was\nrighteous the bridge bore him safely over to the sacred mountain,\nwhere the good lived again; if he was wicked, he fell off the bridge\nand found himself in the place of torment. It is another\ninconsistency that Zarathustra expects, on the one hand, to convert\nthe world by his preaching, while on the other hand his sense of the\nantagonism between the good and the evil spirits and their followers\noften hurries him into violent methods. One hymn concludes with a\nsummons to his adherents to fall on the unbelievers with the halberd,\nand he is constantly predicting their sudden overthrow. Along with\nthis, we may mention that he sought to ally himself with powerful\nfamilies for the sake of the support they would bring the cause. The\nname of Vishtaspa, king we know not of what realm, is always\nassociated with the prophet as that of his royal patron; other\ninfluential friends are also mentioned. Another point, in which we\nnotice accommodation to existing usage, is that of sacrifice. The\nGathas have several noble passages describing the true sacrifice man\nhas to offer to God for his goodness, as consisting simply in the\noffering of self, in the devotion to the deity of all a man is, and\nall he can do. At the same time Zarathustra has not a word to say in\ndisparagement of the sacrifice of victims. He prays for guidance in\nthis part of religious duty; he desires to have everything connected\nwith sacrifice done in the best way and with the most effective\nhymns. Thus the spiritual life is not left to stand alone. There is a\npersonal walk with God, our piety is said to be God's daughter in us,\nhis righteousness is working in us and moulding us for his purposes;\nboth will and deed of the good man are attributed to him, and the\nprocesses are described with true insight by which the soul is\nsanctified and wedded to her task and her true destiny; but at the\nsame time there is an intent looking to that sacred Fire which is an\noutward representative of deity; there is the offering of victims,\neven of horses, when the prophet's mind is bent on war (the\nHoma-offering does not occur, and we may suppose the prophet rejected\nthis service of the deity by intoxication); there is the smiting of\nthe demons with prayer, and imprecations, similar to those in the\nPsalms, against adversaries of the cause.\n\nIt is no proof of unspirituality that the welfare of the Kine, with\nwhose wail the call of the prophet began, is steadily kept in view\nduring his mission. The agriculturists are on the side of the\nrighteous being, good and ever-better tillage is a means of pleasing\nhim; it is his will that the kine should be freed from alarms and\nshould prosper; and he may be appealed to to give lessons with a view\nto that end. The doctrine passes far beyond its first occasion; yet\nthe occasion which called for it is never lost sight of.\n\nThe Gathas, taken alone, tell us hardly anything of the religion in\nwhich Zarathustra's fellow-countrymen believed. They believed\nundoubtedly in many gods; in those parts of the Avesta which come\nnext to the hymns in time, polytheism is in full force. That\nZarathustra only speaks of one god, Ahura (though he also speaks of\n\"the Immortals\" generally), may be due to the limited extent and\nspecial purpose of the hymns, but it may also be taken as an\nindication that the prophet did not needlessly interfere with the\nbeliefs of his people: content to preach the doctrine with which he\nwas charged, and which was to him the sum and substance of all\nreligion, he, like several other religious founders, stirred up no\nstrife he could avoid. The doctrine he preached was not unprepared\nfor in the mind of his country, and continued to be the leading\nfeature of Persian religion in subsequent periods.\n\nIt is a momentous step in religious progress, which the prophet of\nIran calls on his countrymen to take. We notice the main features of\nthe advance.\n\n1. Man is Called to Judge between the Gods.--Zarathustra, like\nElijah, puts before his people the choice between two worships.\nVarious distinctions between the two cases might be drawn. In the\nScripture case Baal is not a bad god, but simply the wrong god for\nIsrael to worship. In the case of our reformer the difference between\nthe two worships is a deeper one. The individual is to choose his\ngod, he is to declare of his own motion that one god is better than\nothers, and that no worship whatever is to be paid to these others.\nThis was a new departure in antiquity; the early world loved to think\nof many gods, all alike divine and worshipful, each race or clan\nhaving its god whom it naturally served, or each part of the earth\nbeing portioned out to a divine lord of its own. Neither Greece nor\nRome ever thought of making the individual man the arbiter among the\nunseen beings whom he knew, and requiring him to decide which of them\nhe should consider divine, and which he should disown. In the case\nbefore us, moreover, the choice is to be made on moral grounds. Men\nare called to judge of the character of the beings who are called\ngods, they are told that there is no necessity to acknowledge those\nof whom they disapprove, they are emancipated from the fear of\nhurtful and evil beings. There is war in heaven, and men are\nencouraged to take part in that war, and to cast off allegiance to\nsuch powers as do not make for righteousness. How there came to be\nsuch strife among the gods, and how it became necessary that men\nshould judge of it, we have no clear information; we only know that\nthe momentous step was called for and was taken.\n\nThe belief, however, remains even after the decision that there are\nunseen evil beings, who had influence in forming the constitution of\nthings, and who have influence still over the government of the\nworld. The position taken up is not monotheism. The good god is not\nsole creator or sole governor of the world, he is a limited being;\nfrom the outset he has only in part got his own way, and he has\nadversaries in the very constitution of things, whom he cannot get\nrid of. Persian thought is dualistic; the conception of an Evil\nCreator and Governor co-ordinate with the good one differentiates it\nfrom the thought of India, which always tends to a principle of\nunity.\n\n2. In the second place, this religion is essentially intolerant and\npersecuting. Having chosen his side in the great war which divides\nthe universe, man can only prosecute that war with all his force; he\nmust regard the Daevas and their followers as his enemies, and try to\nweaken and extinguish them. The general feeling of the ancient world\nabout differences in religion was that all religions were equally\nlegitimate, each on its own soil. The Jews, we know, shocked the\nGreeks and Romans greatly by denying this, and maintaining that there\nwas only one true religion, namely, their own, and that all the\nothers were worships of gods false and vain. But the Persians came\nbefore the Jews in this; the Gathas preach persecution, and the\ninsults offered by Persian kings in later times to the religions of\nEgypt and Greece were no doubt justified by their convictions. In\nPersia, as in Israel, religion had come to entertain the notion of\nfalse gods. And a religion which entertains that notion must be\nexclusive. Those who have refused to worship beings hitherto deemed\ngods, on the ground that they ought not to be worshipped and are not\ntruly gods, cannot but desire to bring the worship of such beings\nentirely to an end, and to make the worship of the true God prevail\ninstead, by rude or by gentle means, as the stage of civilisation may\nin each case suggest.\n\nGrowth of Mazdeism.--After the Gathas proper we have other hymns\nwritten in the Gathic dialect, from which the history of the religion\nafter its foundation may be to some extent inferred.[3] These show\nthat the Zarathustrian religion was regarded, after the departure of\nthe founder, as a great divine institution, and was worked out on the\nlines he had laid down. The forms of it became of course more fixed.\nThe god it serves is now called \"Ahura Mazda,\" the \"All-Knowing Lord\"\n(the name is afterwards contracted into the Greek Oromazdes, the\nPersian Hormazd; and the religion is called from it Mazdeism); he is\nstill implored for spiritual blessings both for this and for the\nfuture life, and for furtherance in agriculture. There is, however, a\ntendency to address prayer not only to Ahura himself but to beings\nconnected with him. As if the mind wearied of dwelling on the one\nsupreme, the Bountiful Immortals are associated with him, the parts\nof his holy creation are invoked, the fire which is most closely\nidentified with him, the stars which are his body, the waters, the\nearth, all good animals and plants. The kine's soul receives\nsacrifice, and not only the kine's soul which we have met before, but\nthe souls of \"just men and holy women,\" the Fravashis or spirits not\nonly of the departed but of the living also, the service of which\ncontinues and increases henceforward in Persian religion. These are\ninvented deities and have a shadowy character; but gods of more\nsubstance, and more historical reality also came into view at this\npoint. Zarathustra becomes a god, the hymns themselves are adored;\nthe Homa-offering reappears, Mithra is often coupled with Ahura,\nother old gods creep back and are mentioned along with the moral\nabstractions, which also increase in number; in one passage there are\nsaid to be thirty-three objects of worship, a number which also\noccurs in India.\n\n[Footnote 3: Yasna Haptanghaiti, _S. B. E._ xxxi. p. 218, _sqq._, and\nothers following.]\n\nOrganisation of the Heavenly Beings.--With all this multiplication\nthere is, as we shall see, no compromise of the supreme claims of\nAhura. In some of the hymns, all beings, all attributes, all places,\nand all times of a sacred nature are heaped indiscriminately\ntogether, in interminable catalogues. But this apparent confusion is\ncorrected by a remarkable tendency to organisation. The Persian\nreligion ultimately came to have a very simple and very striking\ntheology; and that theology was made up by transforming the\nabstractions in which the founder dealt, into persons, and arranging\nthem after the pattern of Oriental society. In the later Yasnas\n(liturgies) a figure rises into view which the Gathas do not mention;\nthat of Angra Mainyu, later Ahriman, the Bad Spirit. In this\ncounterpart of Spenta Mainyu, the Good Spirit (who is not at first\nidentified with Ahura, but proceeds from him), the demons obtain a\npersonal head, and the dualism which appears in all nature and all\nhuman society is thus brought to a personal expression. Ahura and\nAhriman confront each other as the good power and the evil. Both\nalike had part in making the world what it is. In every part of the\nworld, and in all that is felt and done they are at strife. Ahura, to\nquote Mr. Darmesteter, is all light, truth, goodness, and knowledge;\nAngra Mainyu is all darkness, falsehood, wickedness, and ignorance.\nWhatever the good spirit makes, the evil spirit mars; he opposes\nevery creation of Ahura's with a plague of his own, it is he who\nmixed poison with plants, smoke with fire, sin with man, and death\nwith life.\n\nThe Attributes of Ahura.--Each of these beings has his retinue. That\nof Ahura was formed first; it consists of his attributes. Even in the\nhymns the attributes are regarded as persons, inseparable companions\nof Ahura; appeals are made to one or another of them, according as\nthe worshipper seeks help from one side or the other of the divine\nbeing. By a process which frequently occurs in religious thought,\nthey afterwards come to be more formally arranged and defined; there\nare six of them, and each is charged with a province of the divine\neconomy. They are as follows:\n\n  Vohu Mano (Bahman) Good Mind; he is the head and the guardian of\n  the living creation of Ahura.\n\n  Asha Vahista (Ardibehesht), Excellent Holiness; he is the genius of\n  fire.\n\n  Kshathra Vairya (Shahrevar), Perfect Sovereignty; he is the lord of\n  metals.\n\n  Spenta Armaiti (Spendarmat) divine piety, conceived as female, the\n  goddess of the earth.\n\n  Haurvatat (Khordat) health.\n\n  Ameretat (Amerdat) immortality.\n\nThe last two are a pair, and have charge conjointly of waters and of\ntrees.\n\nAhura is himself one of these spirits; thus there are seven supreme\nspirits.\n\nRetinue of Ahriman.--Angra Mainyu on his part comes to have a\ncorresponding retinue of six daevas, each being the evil counterpart\nof one of the good spirits. Evil Mind, Sickness, and Decay are the\nnames of some of them. The whole spiritual world is ranged on the\nside of the good or of the evil deity. The Izatas (Izeds) or angels\nconsist of gods of immemorial worship in Iran, some of whom are the\nsame as gods worshipped in India; but the title also applies to gods,\nheavenly and earthly, of later creation, so that the class is a very\nwide and elastic one. It comprises some beings who have been reduced\nby the operation of the new ideas from the first to the second rank\nof deities, such as Verethragna, who corresponds to the Vedic Indra,\nand Mithra, the sun-god. These now appear in the same rank as gods of\nthe newer style, such as Sraosha, Obedience, and survivals of early\nsuperstition, such as the \"Curse of the wise,\" a very powerful Ized.\nZarathustra himself belongs to this class of deities, a miscellaneous\none indeed. Another class of sacred beings of world-wide extent is\nthat of the Fravashis spoken of above. If the good spirits are many\nand various, so are the evil. Of these are the great demon-serpent\nAzhi who plays a great part in Persian mythology, as Vrittra does in\nIndian. Aeshma, later Asmodeus, may be named; he is one of the\nDrvants, or storm-fiends. Gahi, an unfaithful goddess, has fallen to\na demon of unchastity; the Pairikas (Peris) are female tempters; the\nYatu are demons connected with sorcery.\n\nThe firm organisation of these hosts of spiritual beings, and the\nsense of a great conflict in which they are all engaged from the\ngreatest to the least of them, preserve Mazdeism from the weakness\nand absurdity which are apt to creep over religion when the\npopulation of the upper and the nether regions is unduly multiplied.\nThe faithful never forget Ahura in favour of the minor deities, nor\ndo they forget that morals and industry are the chief ends of\nreligion, and that in cultivating these they hasten the coming of the\nkingdom. The following is the formula, the \"Praise of Holiness,\" with\nwhich every act of worship begins in the Yasts[4] (liturgies of the\nIzeds):\n\n  May Ahura Mazda be rejoiced!\n\n  Holiness is the best of all good!\n\n  I confess myself a worshipper of Mazda, a follower of Zarathustra,\n  one who hates the daevas and obeys the laws of Ahura.\n\n[Footnote 4: _S. B. E._ vol. xxiii.]\n\nAncient Testimonies to the Persian Religion.--It is at this stage,\nwhile it is still in a state of vigour, that we hear of the Persian\nreligion from various quarters in ancient records. The chapters in\nthe latter half of Isaiah, which so vigorously denounce idolatry,\nhail the approach of Cyrus towards Babylon, and claim unity of\nreligion between him and the Jews (Isaiah xliv. 28 _sq._). He is the\nshepherd who is to lead Jehovah's people back to their own land, and\nto cause their temple to be rebuilt. And this claim that the Jewish\nand the Persian religions were the same, that the Jews and the\nPersians were alike worshippers of the one true God, while all the\nsurrounding nations were polytheists and idolaters, was admitted on\nthe side of Persia. After his conquest of Babylon, Cyrus at once\npermitted the exiles to return to their own land. The Persian\nmonarchs of the following century, Darius and Artaxerxes, continued\nto take a friendly interest in the worship of Jehovah, whom they\napparently regarded as a form of their own god, \"the God of heaven,\"\nHormazd (Ezra vii. 21). They accordingly took measures for the\nrebuilding of the temple at Jerusalem, and for the introduction there\nof the new religious constitution which had been prepared at Babylon.\nThis could not have happened if the religion of the Persian kings had\nnot been a pure service of one god,[5] and the other information we\nhave on the subject shows that the Mazdeism of Persia at this period\nwas a very elevated form of the religion. The inscriptions of Darius\ndo not mention the spread of the worships of Mitra and Anahita,\nwhich, however, make their appearance in the later inscriptions of\nArtaxerxes; in none of them is Ahriman spoken of. This, of course,\ndoes not prove that he was not believed in; when the Jewish prophet\nproclaims that Jehovah makes both light and darkness, that he both\nwounds and heals, there may be a reference to Persian dualism. Yet\nMazdeism was capable of appearing, and did appear to the foreigner,\nas a lofty worship of a god of light and goodness. The same\nimpression is produced by the descriptions of the Greek writers.\nHerodotus (i. 131, 132) writes as follows; he is a contemporary of\nEzra: \"The following statements as to the customs of the Persians is\nto be relied on. They do not fashion images of the gods, nor build\ntemples, nor altars--they consider it wrong to do so, and count it a\nproof of folly; their reason for this being, as I think, that they do\nnot believe the gods to be beings of the same nature with men as the\nGreeks do. They are accustomed to offer sacrifices to Zeus on the\nsummits of mountains; they call the whole circle of heaven Zeus. They\nsacrifice also to the sun, and the moon, and the earth, and to fire,\nand to water, and to the winds. These are the ancient parts of their\nritual, but they have added the worship of the Queen of heaven,\nAphrodite; it was from the Assyrians and the Arabs that they acquired\nthis. The Assyrian name for Aphrodite is Mylitta, the Arabs call her\nAlilat, the Persians, Anahita.[6] Such being their gods the Persians\nsacrifice to them on this wise. They have no altar, and do not use\nfire in sacrifice, nor do they have libations nor flutes, nor wreaths\nnor barley. He who wishes to sacrifice takes his victim to a clean\nspot and there calls on the deity, his turban wreathed, as a rule,\nwith myrtle. He does not think of praying for benefits for himself\nindividually in connection with his sacrifice; he prays for the\nwelfare of the Persian people and king; he himself is one of the\nPersian people. He then cuts up the victim, boils the pieces and\nspreads them out on the softest grass he can find--if possible, on\nclover. This done, one of the Magians who has come to assist, sings a\ntheogony,[7] as they call the accompanying hymn; no sacrifice is\nallowed to be offered without one of the Magi being present. After a\nshort pause the sacrificer takes up the pieces of flesh and does with\nthem whatever he likes.\"\n\n[Footnote 5: These two religions, Kuenen says, were more like each\nother than any other two religions of antiquity.--_Religion of\nIsrael_, iii. 33.]\n\n[Footnote 6: Herodotus says Mitra; but this is a mistake, whether of\nthe father of history or of a transcriber.]\n\n[Footnote 7: One of the Yashts in praise of the particular deity.]\n\nIn other passages Herodotus tells us of the extreme sanctity\nattributed by the Persians to waters, to fire, and to the sun. He\nalso tells us that they regarded lying as the worst possible offence,\nand next to it falling into debt, since the debtor is tempted to tell\nlies.\n\nPlutarch writes as follows, quoting from an earlier Greek writer of\nthe third century B.C.: \"Zoroaster the Magician,[8] who was 5000\nyears before the war of Troy, named the good god Oromazes and the\nother Arimonius ... Oromazes is engendered of the clearest and purest\nlight, Arimonius of deep darkness; and they war one upon another. The\nformer of these created six other gods (here follow the Amshaspands),\nbut the latter produceth as many other in number, of adverse\noperation to the former.... There will come a time when this\nArimonius, who brings into the world plague and famine, shall of\nnecessity be rooted out and utterly destroyed for ever ... then shall\nmen be all in happy estate, they shall need no more food, nor cast\nany shadow from them; and that god who hath effected all this shall\nrepose himself for a time, and rest in quiet.\"\n\n[Footnote 8: Holland's translation.]\n\nThe Vendidad: Laws of Parity.--These extracts show the growth of\ncertain ideas which we have not noticed before. The dualism is being\nworked out more in detail, other gods are coming in, and the doctrine\nof the sanctity of the elements has made its appearance. That\ndoctrine is the basis of a new set of ideas and practices which we\nhave now to consider, those namely which are contained in the\nVendidad, one of the later works of the Persian canon. To pass from\nthe Gathas to the Vendidad is like passing from Isaiah to Leviticus,\nand the laws of purity of Persian religion bear a strong analogy to\nthose of Judaism. The Vendidad[9] is composed principally of laws and\nrules designed to direct the faithful in the great task of\nmaintaining their ritual purity. The whole of life is dominated in\nthis work by the ideas of purity and defilement; the great business\nof life is to avoid impurity, and when it is contracted to remove it\nin the correct manner as quickly as possible. Purity here is not\nprimarily sanitary or even moral; though such considerations were no\ndoubt indirectly present. Impure is what belongs to the bad spirit,\nwhether because he created it, as he did certain noxious animals, or\nbecause he has established a hold on it as he does on men at death. A\nman is impure, not because he has exposed himself to the infection of\ndisease, not because he has contracted a stain on his conscience, but\nbecause he has touched something of which a Daeva has possession, and\nso has come under the influence of that Daeva. Purification,\ntherefore, and the act of healing consist of exorcisms of various\nkinds. This notion of purity plays a great part in other old\nreligions also; it is here that we see its original meaning most\nclearly. Another great feature of the doctrine of purity in the\nVendidad is that the elements, fire, earth, and water, are holy, and\nto defile them in any way is the most grievous of sins. As everything\nwhich leaves the body is unclean, a man must not blow up a fire with\nhis breath, and bathing with a view to cleanliness is not to be\nthought of. The disposal of the dead was a matter of immense\ndifficulty, since corpses, being unclean, could be committed neither\nto Fire nor to the Earth. They are ordered to be exposed naked on a\nbuilding constructed for that purpose on high ground, so that birds\nof prey may devour them; and a great part of the Vendidad is taken up\nwith directions for purification, after a death has taken place, of\nthe persons who were in the house, of the house itself, of those who\ncarried the corpse, and of the road they travelled, etc.\n\n[Footnote 9: _S. B. E._ vol. iv.]\n\nHow this Doctrine Entered Mazdeism.--This system was not in force in\nthe time of Darius and Artaxerxes (when the dead were buried or, as\nin the case of Croesus, burned) though the ideas were appearing at\nthat period on which it is founded; and it is plain that it has no\nnecessary or vital connection with the religion of Zarathustra. But\nin later Mazdeism there are many such importations. This religion, in\nits course from east to west, came in contact with beliefs and usages\nwith which, though foreign to its own nature, it yet came to terms.\nMazdeism is not originally a markedly priestly religion; it is\nthought that it became so when planted in Media. No doubt there were\ngerms in the early Iranian religion of a priestly system. Zarathustra\nhimself was a priest and was favourable to due religious observances.\nBut it is quite contrary to his spirit that life should be governed\nentirely by ritual law. It was in Media that this came to be the\ncase. The name of Magi, originally perhaps that of a tribe, became in\nMedia the name of the priesthood, and so furnished an additional\ntitle for Mazdeism. It is to this stage of the religion that the\npriestly legislation of the Vendidad, with all its puritanical\nregulation of life, is to be ascribed. (The practice of exposing the\nbodies of the dead to be devoured by birds of prey is probably of\nScythian origin.) In this period also, remote from the origin of the\nreligion, we find a new view of Zarathustra himself and of his\nrevelation. In the earlier sources Zarathustra composes his hymns in\na natural manner; he is not an absolute lawgiver, but depends on\nprinces for the carrying out of his views. In the later works the\nrevelation takes place in a series of private interviews between\nAhura and Zarathustra; the prophet puts questions to the god, and the\ngod dictates in reply sentences which are at once promulgated as\nsacred laws. Mazdeism, like other religions, has its wooden age, its\nverbal inspiration, and its priestly code.\n\nTo trace the lines by which the influence of the religion of Persia\nasserted itself in the wider world would be a large enterprise: only\na few indications can be given here. One great service which that\nreligion did to the world was undoubtedly that it had sympathy with\nthe Jews, and enabled Jewish monotheism to take a fresh start on its\nway to become a religion for mankind. Mazdeism itself had a tinge of\nuniversalism; Zarathustra expected his religion to spread beyond his\nown land, and it did spread over all the provinces of Iran. It never\nbecame a world-religion, but it might have done so had it not become\nswathed and choked in Magism or had any new movement arisen in it to\nassert the supremacy of its purely human over its artificial\nelements. But Ahura himself, perhaps, was too abstract and\nphilosophic a god to inspire missionary ardour; it needed a being\nmore firmly rooted in history, a god who had done more to prove the\nenergy and intensity of his nature, and, further, a god more\nundoubtedly omnipotent than Ahura, to establish a universal rule.\n\nThe interesting inquiry remains, how far the Jewish religion was\nmodified by its contact with the Persian. The laws of purity in the\nJewish priestly code find a close parallel in the Vendidad; but with\nthe Israelites the notion of religious purity existed, and was worked\nout in considerable detail, as we see from Deuteronomy, before the\nexile, and therefore long before the period of the Vendidad. The\nbelief in the resurrection, found among the Jews after the exile, and\nnot before it, has been maintained by many to be a loan from Persia,\nwhere the belief in future reward and punishment was a settled thing\nfrom the time of Zarathustra. But the Jews do not appear to have\ngrasped this belief all at once or fully formed. They arrived at it\ngradually, many Old Testament scholars affirm, and by spiritual\ninferences timidly put forth at first, from their own religious\nconsciousness. A belief which the Jewish religion was capable of\nproducing of itself need not, without clearer evidence than we\npossess, be regarded as borrowed. We are not on much surer ground\nwhen we come to ask whether the angels and demons of Judaism are\nconnected with those of Persia. This belief also arises naturally in\nJudaism, where God came to be thought of as very high and very\ninaccessible, and intermediate beings were therefore needed. Some of\nthe figures of the Jewish spirit-world are, no doubt, due to Persia;\nthe Ashmodeus of the book of Tobit is a Persian figure. Later Judaism\nis like Parsism in arranging the heavenly beings in a hierarchy, and\nassigning to the chief angels special functions in the administration\nof God's kingdom, and still more so when the upper hierarchy is\nconfronted by a lower one with a great adversary and father of lies\nat its head. But this takes place long after the Persian contact.\n\nThe Persian deities had, as a rule, too little legend to enable them\nto be received in other countries. Ahura does not travel. Anaitis is\nthought to have passed into Greece, changing her name to Aphrodite,\nbut also to the severer Artemis; but she is perhaps not original in\nPersia. The Persian god best known in other lands was Mithra, the\nsun-god and god of wisdom. He was a favourite with the Roman armies\nin the early empire, and representations of him as a hero in the act\nof slaying a bull in a cave have been found in many lands. There were\nalso mysteries connected with him, in which the candidates had to\npass through a great series of trials and hardships. Persia\ninfluenced Europe and the west of Asia at the same period in another\nway. Manicheism, a system which was one of the three great universal\nreligions of that time, and had a worship and a priesthood and a\nsacred literature of its own, was founded by a native of Persia. He\nlaboured at a distance from his own country, and the doctrines he\npropounded came more from Chaldea than from Persia, and consisted of\ngreat histories, like those of the Gnostics, of the doings and\nsufferings of cosmic and other persons; a great struggle between the\npowers of light and those of darkness was one of its principal\nfeatures. The worship of this church was spiritual; its morals were\nin theory of the purest and most ascetic kind, being founded on a\nprinciple of dualism in the material world, and requiring much\nself-denial and long fasts. The higher virtue of the system was not,\nhowever, required of the ordinary member. Later Parsism, both in Iran\nand in India, has shown a disposition to cast off dualism, and to\nbecome, both philosophically and practically, a monistic system.\n\n\nBOOKS RECOMMENDED\n\n_S. B. E._ vols. iv., xxiii. (Darmesteter); xxxi. (Mills). _The\nZendavesta_, vols. v., xviii., xxiv., xxxvii., xlvii. Pahlavi Texts\n(E. W. West).\n\n_The Histories of Antiquity_ of Duncker, Maspero, and Ed. Meyer.\n\nHaug's _Essays on the Sacred Language, Writings, and Religion of the\nParsis_. Second Edition, 1878,\n\nF. Windischmann, _Zoroastr. Studien_, 1863.\n\nGeldner, \"Zoroaster,\" in _Encyclopaedia Britannica_; \"Zoroastrianism,\"\nin _Encyclopaedia Bibl._\n\nMills, _A Study of the Five Zarathustrian Gathas_, 1892-94.\n\nLehmann, in De la Saussaye.\n\nDadhabai Naoroji, _The Parsee Religion_.\n\nOn Mithraism, _Dieterich Eine Mithras-liturgie._\n\nCumont, _The Mysteries of Mithra_, 1903.\n\n\n\n\nPART V\nUNIVERSAL RELIGION\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXII\nCHRISTIANITY\n\n\nThe writer is aware that in offering a chapter on Christianity at the\nconclusion of this work, he attempts a difficult task. If treated at\nall, Christianity must be dealt with in the same way as the other\nreligions, and no assumptions must be made for it which were not made\nfor them. And a view of our own religion written, not from the\nstandpoint of the faith and love we feel towards it but of scientific\naccuracy, must appear to many pious Christians to be cold and meagre.\nBut, on the other hand, Christianity is the key of the arch we have\nbeen building, the consummating member of the development we have\nsought to trace, and to withhold any estimate of its character would\nbe to leave our work most imperfect. It seems better, therefore, that\nsome hints at least should be offered on this part of the subject.\nChristianity cannot indeed be dealt with in the same proportion as\nthe other religions; that would far exceed our space. But some views\nare offered regarding its essential nature, which the writer believes\nto be so firmly founded in fact that even those who are not\nChristians cannot deny them, and thus to afford a valid criterion for\nthe comparison of Christianity with other faiths.\n\nIn the chapter on the religion of Israel we saw how the prophets\nbefore and during the exile began to cherish the idea of a new\nrelation between God and man, which would not depend on sacrifice nor\nbe confined to Israel. God, they declared, was preparing a new age,\nin which he would receive man to more intimate communion than before;\nand man would be guided in the right path, not by covenants and laws,\nbut by the constant inspiration of a present deity. The new religion\nwould be one which all nations could share. Jerusalem, the seat of\nthe true faith, would attract all eyes; all would turn to her because\nof the Lord her God.\n\nBut, alas, instead of growing broader to realise its universal\ndestiny, the religion of Israel grew narrower after the exile, and\nseemed to forget the prospects thus opened up to it. Judaism, though\nimmeasurably enriched in its inner consciousness by the teaching of\nthe prophets, maintained its earlier semi-heathenish forms of\nworship, only surrounding them with new stateliness and new\nsignificance; and clothed itself in a hard shell of public ritual and\npersonal observance. The Jews separated themselves rigorously from\nthe world, and cultivated an exclusive pride; as if their religion\nhad been given them for themselves alone, and not for mankind. Under\nthe Maccabees they displayed the most heroic courage and tenacity,\nmaintaining their own beliefs and rites amid the flood of Hellenism\nwhich at one time almost swept them away. That they carried their\nnationality unimpaired through this period is one of the most\nwonderful achievements of the Jewish race. In the succeeding period,\nhowever, many signs appeared showing that their religion was losing\nenergy. The rule of the priests and scribes extended more and more\nover the whole of life, tradition and observance grew more and more\nextensive, but the moral judgment lost its elasticity. The sense of\nthe divine presence grew faint, and multitudes of spirits filled the\nair instead, oppressing human life with a sense of vague anxiety. As\npolitical independence was lost, the people became less happy and\nmore easily excited. But while formalism held increasing sway over\ntheir actions, imagination was free, and surrounded both the past\nhistory of Israel and its future triumphs with manifold\nembellishments.\n\nIn such a condition was the religion of the Jews when Jesus appeared\nin Palestine and created a new order of things. Christianity was at\nfirst a movement within Judaism. Like all the religions which trace\ntheir history to personal founders, it grew from very small\nbeginnings; but its doctrine was of such a nature, that if\ncircumstances favoured, it could not fail to spread beyond Judaism,\nto men of other lands and other tongues.\n\nThe doctrine consisted primarily in a declaration that that great\nreligious consummation, the kingdom of God, which the prophets had\nforetold, which was regarded by the fellow-countrymen of Jesus as a\nfar-off hope, and which had just been heralded by John the Baptist as\nbeing immediately at hand, had actually taken place. The perfect\nstate was announced to have arrived, and to be a thing not of the\nfuture but of the present. The long-expected intercourse of God and\nman on new terms of perfect agreement and sympathy, had come into\noperation; any one who chose could assure himself of the fact. The\ntitle by which Jesus described the intimate relationship of man and\nGod which he announced, sufficiently shows its character. God is the\nFather in heaven; men are his children, and all that men have to do\nis to realise that this is so, to enter the circle and begin to live\nwith God on such terms. The great God seeks to have every one living\nwith him as his child; and religion is no more, no less, than this\ncommunion. Father and child dwell together in perfect love and\nconfidence; no outward regulations are needed for their intercourse,\nno bargains, no traditions, no ritual, no pilgrimage, no sacrifice.\nThe intercourse can be carried on by any one, anywhere. It is not a\nmatter of apparatus, but a purely moral affair, an affair of love.\nThe Father knows all about the child, is able to give him all he\nneeds, even before he asks it; is willing to forgive his sins when he\nrepents of them; is anxious above all to reinforce his efforts after\ngoodness. The child knows that the Father is always near him, carries\nevery need and wish to him in prayer, even though knowing that he is\naware of them beforehand; regards all that happens, either good or\nill, as sent by him for the best ends, and seeks in every case to\nknow his will and to submit to it sweetly, and execute it faithfully.\n\nNothing could be simpler, or deeper, or broader. Religion is here\npresented free from all local or accidental or obscuring elements;\nreligion itself is here revealed. Accepted in this form, it does for\nman all that it can. The relation between God and man is made purely\nmoral; the link is not that of race, nor does it consist in anything\nexternal. The individual--every individual who will pause to hear--is\nassured that there exists between God and him a natural sympathy, and\nis urged to allow that sympathy to have its way. It is easy to see\nwhat effect such a belief must have. The individual, bidden to seek\nthe principle of union with God not in any external circumstance or\narrangement, but in his own heart, becomes conscious of an inner\nfreedom from all artificial restraints. He finds in his own heart the\nsecret of happiness, and is raised above all fears and irritations;\nand hence the forces of his nature are encouraged to unfold\nthemselves freely. He sees clearly what as a human person he is\ncalled to be and to do, and feels a new energy to realise his ideals.\nAs God has come down to him, he is lifted up to God; a divine power\nhas entered his life, which is able to do all things in him and for\nhim.\n\nIt may be said that what we have described are the effects of\nreligious inspiration generally, and may take place in connection\nwith any faith. But the divine impulse communicated to mankind in\nChristianity differs from that of any other religion in two important\nrespects. In the first place, the God who here enters into union with\nman possesses full reality and a character of the utmost energy. It\nis Jehovah with whom we have to do here, changed, indeed, but still\nthe same; a God of real and irresistible power, on whom speculation\nhas not laid its weakening hand. The union of man with God is not\nsecured by making God abstract and vague, nor is his infinite\nkindness and forgivingness purchased at the expense of his intensity\nand awfulness. With Jesus, God is still the power who has actual\ncontrol over everything that goes on, and who is able to do even what\nappears to be most impossible. He is a God of strict justice and\nholiness; though he is so kind, his judgments have not ceased, but\nare still impending over guilty men and a guilty people. It is he who\ncan cast both soul and body into hell. It is a God of such energy,\nsuch zeal, who yet offers himself as the willing benefactor and\ndefender, and the loving guide and helper of the humblest of his\nhuman creatures. In the second place, the terms of the union here\nformed between God and man are such as can be found nowhere else. The\ndeity inspires man not to any particular kind of acts, not to\nsacrifices, nor to withdrawal from the world, but inspires him simply\nto realise himself. Man is assured of the sympathy of this great God,\nand is then left in freedom as to the mode in which he should serve\nhim. No rules are prescribed; human life is not pressed into an\nartificial mould, as is the case in so many great religions; no\npreference is accorded to any one pursuit over others. This religion\nis not a yoke to coerce men and to make them less, but an inspiration\ncapable of entering into every kind of life, and of making men\ngreater and better in whatever occupation. Even religious duties are\nleft to form themselves naturally; all that is insisted on is that\nthe child shall have living and real intercourse with the Father.\nPrayer is necessary, and so is the practice of good works; the child\nmust keep in sympathy with the Father by doing as he does. Further\nthan this, the forms of the religious life are not prescribed. With\nregard to morals, it is the same. The moral life is to build itself\nup freely from within; goodness is not to be a matter of rule, but\nthe spontaneous and happy development of a principle which lives and\nspeaks deep in the centre of the heart. Jesus is not a lawgiver, save\nin a metaphorical sense: the law which he sets up is nothing more\nthan that which every man, when he turns away from all that is\nartificial, can find in his own breast.\n\nIt is one feature of the spontaneity and spirituality of the religion\nof Jesus, that it has no constitution. Jesus regarded himself as the\nfounder not of a new religion, but only of an inner circle of more\ndevoted believers inside the old religion of his country; he did not\ntherefore feel called to draw up rules for a new faith, and the\nresult of this is that the mechanism of the religion is of later\ngrowth. The authority of the founder can be appealed to for a direct\nand constant intercourse with God as of a child with his father, and\nfor the conduct of men towards each other, which such intercourse\nwith God necessarily implies, but for hardly anything more. Here, as\nin no other historical religion, man is free.\n\nThe religion of Jesus, therefore, is one of love alone. The divine\nnature consists in love, and the impulse which religion communicates,\nis simply that which proceeds from being loved and loving. And a\nreligion of love finds the way, as no other can, to make man free, to\nunseal his energies, and to lead him upwards to the best life. The\nappearance of such a religion forms the most momentous epoch of human\nhistory. He who brought it forward must occupy a unique position in\nthe estimation of mankind. It can never be superseded.\n\nIt is no doubt the case that the doctrine of Jesus was not in all\nrespects new. The ideas of the prophets live again in him; his\nfollowers have always found many of the Jewish Psalms to be perfectly\nsuited to their experience. Jesus lived in the faith of Israel, and\nconsidered that he had come only to make that faith better\nunderstood, and to free it from improper accretions. What was new was\nhis own person. His great work was that he embodied his teaching in a\nlife which expressed it perfectly. It is far short of the truth to\nsay that there was no inconsistency between what he taught and his\nown conduct. His life is a demonstration, in every detail, of the\neffects of his religion; all flows with the utmost simplicity, and\neven as a matter of necessity, out of the truth he taught. What he\npreached was, in fact, himself; he was himself living in the kingdom\nof God, to which he called others to come; he knew in his own\nexperience what it was to live as a child with the Father in heaven,\nand to view all persons, all things, all duties, in the light of that\nintercourse. All his acts and words flowed from the same spring in\nhis own inner experience. In no other way could his life shape itself\nthan as it did, and he saw with perfect clearness what men must be,\nand on what terms they must live together when God and they were as\nFather and children to each other. What he thus knew he lived, as if\nno laws but those of the kingdom of heaven had any authority for him,\nand so he presented to the world that living embodiment of the true\nreligion, which has been the main strength of Christianity. Jesus\nannounces a new union of God with man, a union in which he himself is\nthe first to rejoice, but which all may share along with him; and\nhence his person counts for more in his religion than that of any\nother religious founder in his, and necessarily becomes an object of\nfaith to all who enter the communion. The doctrine does not produce\nits specific effect apart from the person of Jesus. Because in him\nalone they know the truth which brings them peace, his followers\nregard him, in a way which has no parallel in any other religion, as\ntheir Saviour.\n\nBut this name is given to him by his followers, as it is claimed by\nhimself, for another reason also. Jesus was more than a teacher. He\nfelt a power to be present in him which was able to supply all needs\nand to comfort all sorrows; he did not shrink from summoning all who\nwere weary and heavy laden to come to him, nor from undertaking to\ngive them rest. Keenly alive to the sufferings of others, and able to\nperceive even those sufferings of which they were not themselves\nconscious, he felt it to be his mission to deal with the sadder side\nof human life; he was a physician sent to the sick, a shepherd\nseeking the lost sheep. It was among the poor and the sick, and even\namong the outcasts of society, in whom the sense of need was\nstrongest, that he felt himself most at home and most able to fulfil\nhis calling. Thus the motive of compassion enters strongly into all\nhe said and did: but the compassion is not hopeless in this case as\nin the similar case of Gautama (see chapter xx.), nor is the cure\nrecommended for the ills of humanity that of withdrawal from mankind\nor of forgetfulness. Here there is a belief in God. The compassion\nfrom which the religion flows is not as in the case of Gautama, that\nof a preacher who has ceased to trust in any heavenly power; it is\nannounced as existing first of all in the heart of God Himself. God\ncan do all things, and in his yearning pity for his children has sent\nhis representative to assure them of his sympathy and to comfort them\nin their sorrows. With Jesus therefore no evil is so great as not to\nadmit of a positive cure; he feels the remedy of all human ills to be\npresent in his own heart, and so he appears as the Messiah, not such\na Messiah as his countrymen looked for, but as the true Messiah, in\nwhom all human wants are met, and all human hopes fulfilled. The cure\nwhich he announces for all ills consists in devotion to the will of\nthe Father in heaven. To give oneself unreservedly to the labour of\nrealising the purposes of the heavenly Father in one's own heart and\nin the world, is to rise above all cares and sorrows; enthusiasm in\nthe Father's service is the sovereign remedy. To one who believes in\nthe Father, and seeks to live as his child, no despair is possible.\nTo be engaged in his business is at all times the highest happiness,\nand his kingdom is assuredly coming, though man has still the\nprivilege of working for it,--the kingdom in which all darkness and\nevil will be put away.\n\nWe have indicated the chief points which in a scientific comparison\nof Christianity with other religions appear to constitute its\ndistinctive character; and we have sought to make our statement such\nas the reasonable adherent of other religions will feel to be\nwarranted. The points are these. Christianity is a religion of\nfreedom, it is a system of inner inspiration more than of external\nlaw or system, it is embodied in the living person of its founder, in\nwhich alone it can be truly seen; and the founder is one who is\nliving himself in the relation to God to which he calls men to come,\nand feels himself called and sent to be the Saviour of men.\n\nIt is impossible in this work to treat Christianity on the same scale\nas the other religions; but the question of its universalism must\nnecessarily receive attention. Jesus himself did not expressly say\nthat his religion was for all men. It was his immediate aim to bring\nabout the renewal of the faith of his countrymen, and to give it a\nmore spiritual character; and some of his followers considered that\nhe had aimed at nothing more than this. But he formed a circle of\ndisciples and adherents, which afterwards came to be the Christian\nChurch, and he attached no ritual condition whatever to membership in\nthat community. Nay, more; by his repudiation of the Jewish system of\ntradition he showed that the Jewish laws of ritual purity were not\nbinding upon his disciples, and the further inference could readily\nbe drawn, that one could enter the Kingdom without being a Jew at\nall. The strong missionary impulse of the infant religion brought it\nvery early in contact with Gentile life, and the question soon arose,\nwhether those who refused to become Jews could yet claim a share in\nthe Messiah. It was the task of the Apostle Paul to work out the\ntheory of the universalism of Christianity, and after some conflict\nthe principle was recognised that in the Church all racial\ndifferences disappear; \"in Christ there is neither Jew nor Greek.\"\nThis controversy once settled--and a few years sufficed to settle\nit--the new religion was free to spread in all directions. It spread\nrapidly; the gospel was very simple and imposed no burdensome\nconditions, and it soon proved itself to be capable of striking root\nin any country. The Apostle Paul was the first great theologian of\nthe Church; but his doctrine, as will happen in such a case, does not\nin all points spring out of the nature of the religion itself. The\nPauline theology is an attempt to reconcile the facts of Christianity\nand especially that great stumbling-block to the Jews, the death of\nthe Messiah, with the requirements of Jewish thought. Instead of\nseeing in the death of Christ, as the older apostles at first did, a\nperplexing enigma, St. Paul saw in it the principal manifestation of\nthe compassion of the Saviour, and the great purpose for which he had\ncome into the world. He concentrated attention on Christ's death and\nmade the cross rather than the doctrine of the Messiah the burden of\nhis teaching. To understand Paul we must distinguish between his\nreligion and his theology. His religious position is essentially the\nsame as that of Jesus himself; with him, too, the new religion is\nthat of father and child, and of the consequences which inevitably\nflow from such a union. But the movement of thought which began at\nthe moment of the crucifixion, the concentration of Christian faith\nand love on the person of the Saviour, was now complete. The figure\nof the Crucified with its powerful tragic attraction, and with its\ndeep lessons of conquest by self-surrender, of life by dying,\nremained from St. Paul onwards, in the centre of the faith.\n\nThe world of the early centuries was in great need of a religion, and\nChristianity supplied the place which was vacant. Brought in contact,\nin the great ocean of the Roman Empire where all currents met, with\nreligions and philosophies of every kind, it proved best suited to\nthe task of supplying an inspiration for life, uniting together\ndifferent classes of men and schools of thought. But in the wide\narena of the Empire it received as well as gave, and in its\nencounters with strange rites and doctrines it also put on many a\nstrange aspect. It became the heir of the thoughts and aspirations of\na hundred empires; all the pious sentiments that flowed together from\nevery quarter of the world helped to enrich its doctrine, and to make\nit the great reservoir it is of all the tendencies and views, even\nthose most contrary to each other, which are connected with religion.\nIts institutions are of diverse origin. From the Jews it received its\nearliest Bible, for the Christians had at first no sacred books but\nthose of the old covenant, and its weekly festival, though the day\nwas changed. Its God was the God of the Old Testament, and its\nSaviour was the Messiah of Jewish prophecy, so that it was a\ncontinuation of the Jewish religion, and the attempts which were made\nby early Gnostics to dissolve this tie were soon forgotten.\n\nFrom Greece it received much. The world it had to conquer was Greek,\nand the conquest could only take place by an accommodation to Greek\nthought and to Greek ways. In the end of chapter xvi. we spoke of the\nsecond Greek religion which arose under the influence of philosophy,\nand found its way wherever Greek culture spread. In this great\nmovement, Christianity found a preparation for its coming in the\nGreek world, without which its spread must have been much more\ndoubtful. In the Graeco-Roman religion the advances which appear in\nChristianity are already prefigured. Thought has been busy in\nbuilding up a great doctrine of God, such a God as human reason can\narrive at, a Being infinitely wise and good, who is the first cause\nand the hidden ground of all things, the sum of all wisdom, beauty,\nand goodness, and in whom all men alike may trust. Greek thought also\nfound much occupation in the attempt to reach a true account of man's\nmoral nature and destiny. Both in theory and in practice many an\nattempt was made to build up the ideal life of man, and thus many\nminds were prepared for a religion which places the riches of the\ninner life above all others. The Greek philosopher's school was a\nsemi-religious union, the central point of which was, as is the case\nwith Christianity also, not outward sacrifice but mental activity. It\nis not wonderful therefore if Christian institutions were assimilated\nto some extent to the Greek schools. It has recently been shown that\nthe celebration of the Eucharist came very early to bear a close\nresemblance to that of a Greek mystery, and that there is an unbroken\nline of connection between the discourse of the Greek philosopher and\nthe Christian sermon. In some of the Greek schools pastoral\nvisitation was practised, and the preacher kept up an oversight of\nthe moral conduct of his adherents. While Christianity certainly had\nvigour enough to shape its own institutions, and may even be seen to\nbe doing so in some of the books of the New Testament, the agreement\nbetween Greek and Christian practices amounts to something more than\ncoincidence.\n\nIt was towards the end of the second century that the alliance\nbetween Christianity and the Greek world was finally ratified. Till\nthen belief and practice were determined mainly by custom and\ntradition; but now these were to give way to definite laws and\nsettled institutions. There came to full development, about the\nperiod we have mentioned, a highly-organised system of church\ngovernment, a canon of sacred books of Christian origin, and a creed\nin which the beliefs of Christians were drawn together in one\nstatement. It cannot be denied that the elaborate external forms with\nwhich the religion of Jesus was thus invested went far to change its\nspirit also. But this happens to every religion which reaches the\nstage of organising itself in order to continue in the world and to\nrule permanently in human thought and in human society. No external\nforms can adequately express living religious ideas; and yet there\nmust be external forms in order that religious ideas may be\nperpetuated. The ministers of the new truth inevitably rise in\ndignity till they grow into a hierarchy. That truth inevitably seeks\nto establish itself as scientifically true, and with the aid of the\nruling philosophical tendency of the day clothes itself in a view of\nthe universe and in a creed. Thus the essence of Christianity came to\nconsist not in loving the Master and following him in faith and love,\nbut in upholding the authority of the Church, receiving her\nsacraments, and believing various metaphysical and transcendental\nstatements. Here also a hard shell is formed round the spiritual\nkernel of the religion which, if it is fitted to preserve the latter\nin rude and stormy times, is also fitted to confuse and also apt to\nconceal it.\n\nIn each of the countries to which it came, Christianity adopted what\nit could of the religion formerly existing there. The old religions\nof these lands were not all alike, and hence it came to pass that as\nthe language of Rome was transformed in various ways, and passed into\nthe different yet cognate tongues of the Romance nations, so the\nreligion of the Empire, combining with various forms of heathenism,\npassed into several national religions, the differences of which are\nat least as conspicuous as their similarity. In Italy Christianity\nappears to be a system of local deities, each village worshipping its\nown Madonna or saint. In Holland worship consists almost entirely of\npreaching. In other countries the ritual and the intellectual\nelements of religion are blended in varying proportions; and the\nformer heathenism of each land is also to be traced in many a popular\nobservance and belief. So great is the variety of the religions of\nEurope, not to mention that of the negroes or the Shakers of America,\nthat many have doubted whether they ought all to be considered as\nbranches of one faith, or whether they would not more fitly be\nregarded as so many national religions which have all alike connected\nthemselves with Christianity. Against this there is to be urged in\nthe first place that as a matter of history they are all undoubtedly\noffshoots of the religion of Jesus. It may also be urged that\nwherever the name of Jesus is named, his ideas must to some extent be\npresent, however much they are obscured and prevented from operating\nby lower modes of view. The Christianity of no country ought to be\njudged by the attitude of its most ignorant or even of its average\nadherents; and in every land where Christianity prevails, an\ninfluence connected with religion is at work, which makes for the\nemancipation and elevation of the human person, and for the awakening\nof the manifold energies of human nature. This, as we saw, is the\nimmediate and native tendency of the religion of Jesus; it opens the\nprison doors to them that are bound; it communicates by its inner\nencouragement an energy which makes the infirm forget their\nweaknesses, it fills the heart with hope and opens up new views of\nwhat man can do and can become. It is this that makes it the one\ntruly universal religion. Islam, it is true, has also proved its\npower to live in many lands, and Buddhism has spread over half of\nAsia. But Buddhism is not a full religion, it does not tend to action\nbut to passivity, and affords no help to progress. Islam, on the\nother hand, is a yoke rather than an inspiration; it is inwardly\nhostile to freedom, and is incapable of aiding in higher moral\ndevelopment. Christianity has a message to which men become always\nmore willing to respond as they rise in the scale of civilisation; it\nhas proved its power to enter into the lives of various nations, and\nto adapt itself to their circumstances and guide their aspirations\nwithout humiliating them. A religion which identifies itself, as\nChristianity does, with the cause of freedom in every land, and tends\nto unite all men in one great brotherhood under the loving God who is\nthe Father of all alike, is surely the desire of all nations, and is\ndestined to be the faith of all mankind.\n\n\nA bibliography of the recent study of Christianity would be far too\nextensive for this book. An excellent statement on the subject will\nbe found at the hands of Professor Sanday in the _Oxford\nProceedings_, vol. ii. p. 263, _sqq._\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXIII\nCONCLUSION\n\n\nIt will not be expected that the result of the great movement traced\nin the chapters of this work can be summed up in a few words. We set\nout with a definition of our subject which we said could only be\nfully verified after religion had accomplished its growth and had\nfully unfolded its nature. We also set out with the assumption that\nall the religion of the world is one, and that it exhibits a\ndevelopment which is in the main continuous, from the most elementary\nto the highest stages. We shall not now attempt to justify by\nargument that definition or that assumption. The history which we\nhave sought to place before the reader must itself be the proof of\nthem. All that can be done in bringing this work to a close is to\npoint out one great line of development, which may be recognised more\nor less distinctly in the growth of each religion, and may therefore\nbe held to be characteristic of religion as a whole. No doubt the\ngrowth of religion, as of other human activities, has many sides and\naspects, but perhaps it may be possible to specify the central line\nof growth in which the explanation of all the subsidiary and parallel\nforward movements is to be found.\n\nIt was stated in our first chapter that religion is the expression of\nhuman needs with reference to higher beings who are supposed to be\ncapable of fulfilling men's desires, and it was also stated as an\ninference from this, that the growth of human needs is the cause of\nreligious change and progress. If this is true, then the key to the\nprogress of religion is to be found in the successive emergence in\nhuman experience of higher and still higher needs. If we can discover\nthe order in which higher aspirations successively emerge in the\ngrowth of humanity, then we shall possess the chief clue to the\ncourse of religious advance. Now while there is infinite variety in\nthe needs and desires of men, every land and each nation having\nideals all its own, we can yet discern, on a broad view of human\nprogress, an advance from lower to higher needs which is common to\nthe human race, and manifests itself in the history of each nation.\nThree successive conditions of human life stand out before us as\nmarkedly distinct, and as occurring wherever civilisation continues\nto advance. The first is that in which material needs are\nall-absorbing; the second that in which freedom from material needs\nhas been to some extent attained, and the highest aspirations are\ndirected to the safety and advancement of the nation in which men\nfind themselves united and secure; and the third is that in which the\nindividual realises his own value apart from the state, and develops\na personal ideal which is thenceforward his chief end. To these three\nstages of human existence three types of religion correspond, and the\ngrowth of religion consists in the main in its passage from the lower\nto the higher of these stages.\n\nThe religion of the tribe belongs to that stage of man's existence in\nwhich his energies are entirely occupied in the struggle against\nnature and against other tribes. The conditions of his life do not\nallow his higher faculties to grow, and while he is not without many\nglimpses and anticipations of higher things, his religion, as a\nwhole, is a mass of childish fancies, and of fixed traditions which\nhe cannot explain, but does not venture to criticise or change. His\ngods are petty and capricious beings, and his modes of influencing\nthem, though used with zeal and fervour, have little to do with\nreason or with taste or with morality. It is in this kind of religion\nthat magic of all sorts is at home.\n\nThe advance from the religion of the tribe to that of the nation was\nbriefly described above (chapter vi.). The leading classes of the\nstate at least having gained some measure of security and leisure,\nideas of a nobler order spring up in their minds. The service of the\ngreat gods of the state is organised with befitting dignity and\nsplendour; the best minds contribute to it all they can in the way of\nart, of poetry, of purified legend, of stately ceremonial. Patriotism\nand religion are one, the offices of worship are upheld by the whole\npower of the state, and the gods speak with new authority to the\nspirit of the worshipper. Now it is that great religious systems\narise, so powerful, so highly organised, so splendidly adorned, and\nsurrounded with such venerable traditions, that they seem to be\ndestined for eternity. The priesthood becomes a very powerful class,\nand acquires a personal holiness which marks out its members as\ndifferent from other men; the sacrifices acquire the character of\ndivine mysteries, every detail of which, even the most trivial, has a\nsacred meaning; religious books are compiled or written, which by and\nby are regarded as inspired, and as possessing absolute authority. It\nis to be observed that the older style of religion is not at once\ndriven out by the growth of the new, but continues to flourish beside\nit and under its shadow. The tribes of whom the nation is composed\nstill cherish and adore their own special deities. That older worship\nis often thought to bring blessings which the new worship of the\nstate does not command, and many a piece of ancient magic, many a\npractice which has no connection with the state religion, still goes\non, especially among those who are not cultivated enough to\nappreciate the nobler faith which has arisen.\n\nThis, however, does not keep the national faith from growing in\nriches and consistency; and religion appears, as this growth\nproceeds, to have attained the highest degree of power and authority\nat which it can possibly arrive. Commanding as it does all the\nresources of the nation, enriched by all that can be brought to it of\nmaterial or intellectual riches, placed in a position of absolute\nexaltation and inviolableness, to what further conquests can it still\nlook forward? Yet when a national religion appears to be most firmly\nestablished, the forces are most certainly at work which must ere\nlong lead to a far-reaching change. While the national worship has\nbeen growing up to its highest splendours, the lives of the citizens\nhave also been growing richer and deeper, and the individual soul has\nbecome aware of wants and longings which cannot be satisfied in the\nnational temple. The further progress of religion is apt to appear as\na revolt against the system which has grown so strong. The individual\nsets out to seek a consistent intellectual view, and so figures as a\nsceptic. He aims at a higher moral law than that of the priestly\nsystem, and is accused of undermining public morality. He feels a new\ncall to personal goodness, a new need for personal atonement with the\nideal holiness which he has learned to apprehend; and as the public\nritual does not meet these needs, he seeks for new religious\nassociations and perhaps appears to preach a doctrine contrary to\npatriotism, as it is subversive of the established religion of his\ncountry, and to be wilfully destroying what his countrymen revere,\nand wilfully breaking through old ties and obligations. Thus the\nindividualist stage of religion succeeds the national. But the\nindividualist stage is also, in part at least, the universal stage.\nWhat the thinking mind and the pious heart seeks and cannot find in\nthe national worship, is a religion free as the seeker himself has\nbecome free, from all that is unreasonable and artificial, a religion\ntherefore in which every thinking mind and every pious heart can have\na share. What is gained by individuals in this direction is capable,\ntherefore, if circumstances favour, of proving an acquisition not\nonly for the individual reformer or his nation, but for all men. But\nas the rise of national religion does not bring to an end the ruder\nworships of the tribes, which still go on beside it, so neither does\nthe rise of individualism, even in its purest form, bring to an end\nthe national worship. In the long run this may follow, but it does\nnot take place at once. All three forms of religion go on together;\nthe religion of magic, that of stately public sacrifices and\nceremonials, and that of intellectual effort and pious meditation and\nprayer. Each no doubt influences to some extent the others, and is\ninfluenced by them in turn.\n\nThe movement thus indicated from tribal to national, and from\nnational to individual and to universal religion, is the central\ndevelopment of religion, and all the minor developments which might\nbe traced, as that of sacrifice from rude to spiritual forms, of the\nfunctions of the sacred class, of the morality dictated by religion\nat its various stages, or of the literature connected with piety, may\nbe explained by reference to this one. This movement has taken place\nin every nation; we have seen something of it in each of our\nchapters. In some nations it has been early arrested, so that no\nimportant contribution has there been brought to the general religion\nof mankind, in others it has run its full course, and like a great\nriver has arrived at the ocean at last, to mingle its waters with\nthose of other mighty streams.\n\nThe story of the growth of the world's religion has therefore to be\ntold in a number of parallel narratives, each dealing with the\nexperience of a separate nation. There can scarcely be any general\nhistory of the religion of the world, in addition to those special\nhistories. Some epochs, it is true, stand out as having witnessed\nsimultaneous religious movements in many lands, as if the mind of the\nwhole human race had then been passing through the same crisis of\nthought. The sixth century B.C. is the age of Confucius and of\nLaotsze in China, of Gautama in India, of Jeremiah, Ezekiel and the\nUnknown Prophet of the Exile, of Pythagoras, Heraclitus, and\nXenophanes, and also of the rise into prominence of the Greek\nmysteries. Widely different as the movements are which thus took\nplace contemporaneously in these lands, we may discern in all of them\nalike the tendency to plant religion in the mind and heart, and to\ncreate a deeper union than the old external one, a union based on\ncommon intellectual effort and spiritual sympathy. The period\nimmediately before and after the Christian era might also appear to\nbe one in which the mind of the world as a whole made a great step\nforward. The union of many nations under the sway of Rome, and the\nuniversal diffusion of the Greek language as a means of general\ncommunication, made men conscious at this time as they had never been\nbefore, of the unity of mankind in spite of all differences of race\nand speech. A philosophy also was popular at this time which was\ncosmopolitan in its character, and occupied itself with the great\nproblems, which are the same for all, of man's relation to the gods\nand of his moral duty. If we add to this the combination which took\nplace at Rome and wherever different races met, of various rites and\ncreeds, we see that the age was one singularly disposed to the\nbreaking down of artificial barriers between men, and singularly\nfitted to promote the growth of a belief in which men of all nations\nmight unite and feel themselves to be brethren.\n\nIn these two periods we may recognise important steps in that great\nEducation of the Human Race which the Apostle Paul refers to in a\nbold philosophy of history (Galat. iv.), and which later thinkers\nhave striven to set forth in detail. After the long servitude of\nmankind to irrational practices and to gods who were no gods, there\ncomes first the period when men recognise that the true God is to be\nfound not merely outside them but within their hearts and minds, and\nthen the period when they find that the true God is the same to all\nmen, that they are all children of the same Father. But while these\ngeneral movements of the human mind may be acknowledged, the\neducation of the human race proceeds for the most part in nations. As\neach nation has to elaborate its own art, its own literature, its own\nsystem of law, so each nation has to perfect its own religion. Even\nafter a universal faith has appeared, religion does not cease to be a\nnational thing. Each people moulds the universal religion which it\nhas adopted into a special form, continues by means of it the rites\nand traditions of the past, and expresses through it its own national\ncharacter and aspirations. Each nation as well as each individual\nmust necessarily have a faith specially its own, arising out of its\nown character and experience and in great part incommunicable to\nothers. No two nations could possibly exchange religions.\n\nBut on the other hand every nation contains within itself forms of\nreligion which differ from each other as widely as those of two\nseparate nations. It has been said that no religious belief or usage\nwhich has once lived can ever be destroyed; and the proof of this may\nbe witnessed in every nation. Even after that religion has come which\nhas its main seat in the heart and soul, the ruder forms of piety\nlive on, and even at times aggressively assert themselves. If there\nare classes for whom the struggle against material hardships still\ncontinues, no lofty religion can be attained by them any more than by\nsavage tribes. As the conditions of their life forbid the growth of\ntheir higher faculties, their religion cannot be one of thought or of\nrefinement, but must be one which promises palpable benefits or an\nescape from immediate dangers. At a somewhat higher stage is the\nclass of those who, while partly escaped from the struggle against\nwant, have not yet fully realised themselves as thinking and\nspiritual beings, and to whom the benefits of religion still lie\noutside, rather than in the inner life. When the benefits of religion\nare thus conceived, its processes must be of a mechanical nature.\nHence the various systems of apparatus for connecting the worshipper\nwith a source of good distant from him in time or space, and for\nfetching as it were from another region, with certainty and accuracy,\nneeded supplies of grace.\n\nThe further development of religion in a community so mixed must\ndepend on the progressive education and elevation of the people. As\nmore and more of them are freed first from distracting wants and\ncares, and then from sordid and materialistic views, their spiritual\nnature will expand. The need for God himself rather than for his\ngifts, will arise and increase in their hearts, and they will grow\ncapable of that highest religion which is the life of the soul with\nGod; they will feel its beauty and will drink of the deep springs\nwhich it contains, of strength and peace.\n\nTo attain this true religion the human race has had to travel far and\nto make many experiments. Many temples were built and fell to ruin\nbefore the true temple of the soul was reached in which, as each\nfinds what he as an individual requires, there is also room for all\nmankind. Even after this highest religion has been made known to men,\nit has often been obscured and lost, and many a struggle has been\nneeded to vindicate its claims and help it to retain its rightful\nplace. But with growing experience the world becomes more assured\nthat the simplest and broadest religion ever preached upon this earth\nis also the best and the truest, and that in maintaining Christianity\nas at first preached, and applying it in every needed direction, lies\nthe hope of the future of mankind. To those who agree in this\nconclusion the history of the religion of the world, full of errors\nand of grievous failures as it has been seen to be, cannot appear to\nhave been a vain and purposeless excursion in a land of shadows. Not\nwithout a divine call, and not without divine guidance did man set\nout so early, and persevere so constantly in spite of all his\ndisappointments, in the search for God.\n\n\n\n\nINDEX\n\n\nAesir, 267\n\nAhura Mazda, 387, 391, 397, 398, 405\n\nAllah, 222\n\nAllat, \"The Lady,\" 165, 173, 219\n\nAmartas, 44\n\nAnaitis, 407\n\nAncestor-worship,\n  primitive, 33, 40\n  China, 115\n  Aryan, 250\n  India, 338\n\nAngels and demons, Persia, 400, 407\n\nAnimals, worship of, 29, 57\n  in Peru, 86\n  in Babylonia, 96\n  in Egypt, 130\n  how accounted for, 133\n  in Arabia, 219\n  in Greece, 277\n\nAnimation of Nature in savage thought, 24\n\nAnimism,\n  meaning of, 40, 96, 308\n  in Roman religion, 308\n\nAnthropomorphism, 53\n  Babylonia, 96\n  Egypt, 132\n  Greece, 281\n\nApocalypse, 213\n\nArabia,\n  before Mahomet, 218\n  gods of, 219\n  Judaism and Christianity in, 223\n\nArt,\n  Phenician, 174\n  Egyptian, 132\n  Greece, 280, 292\n\nAryans, the, 245\n  description of, 248\n  in Europe, 256\n  religion, 250\n  etymology of names of gods, 250\n\nAscetics, Brahmanic, 350\n\nAshera, Canaanite goddess, 172\n\nAshtoreth, 176\n\nAssociation, forms of religious,\n  Totem-Clan, 70\n  nation, 84\n  Greek mysteries, 298\n  Greek schools, 303\n  new form in Israel, 212\n  new form in Islam, 233\n\nAsuras, 44\n\n\nBaal, Canaanite god, 171, 189\n\nBabylon and Assyria,\n  religion of, 93\n  connection with Egypt, 94, 96, 97\n  connection with China, 93, 98\n  mythology of, 100\n\nBelief,\n  an essential part of religion, 9, 13\n  less important than rite in primitive religion, 66\n\nBrahman, etymology of, 339\n\nBrahmanism, 338\n\nBuddhism, 353, _sqq._\n  in China, 123\n\n_Burnt Njal_, 264\n\nBurton, Captain, _Pilgrimage to El-Medinah and Mecca_, 236\n\n\nCaaba, 220, 236\n\nCabiri, 177\n\nCanaanites, 170\n  religion of, 171, 191\n\nCaste, 338\n\nCelts, 257\n\nChina, 106\n  connection with Babylonia, 107\n  state religion of, 111\n\nChristianity, 411, _sqq._\n\nCivilisation and religion advance together, 15\n  origin of, 19\n\nClassification of religions, 80\n\nConfucius, 107, 117, _sqq._\n\nContinuity of growth in religion, 6\n\nCuriosity, an element of religion, 12\n\n\nDaniel, 213\n\nDecalogues, 202\n\nDefinition of religion,\n  preliminary, 8\n  fuller, 13\n\nDegeneration in civilisation, 19\n  in religion, 38\n\nDeuteronomy, 201\n\nDevas, 44, 396\n\nDevelopment of religion, 8, 51, _sqq._, 430, _sqq._\n\nDomestic worship,\n  origin of, 33\n  China, 115\n  Aryans, 251\n  Iceland, 264\n  Greece, 275\n  Rome, 311\n  Brahmanic, 342\n\nDualism, 56\n\n\nEddas, 266\n\nEgypt, religion of, 126, _sqq._\n\nElijah and Elisha, 190\n\nElves, 265\n\nEphod, 188\n\nEtruria, religion of, 318\n\nExile of Israel, 202\n\nEzra, 204\n\n\nFairy Tales (German), 262\n\nFate, 289\n\nFestivals, Greek, 294\n\nFetish-worship, 35\n\nFetishism, 38\n\nFire, 31\n\nFrazer, Mr., 58, 59; _Golden Bough_, 28, 279\n\nFrisia, religion in, 263\n\nFunctional deities,\n  Greece, 275\n  Rome, 308\n\nFuneral practices, 62\n  Egypt, 149\n  Icelandic, 264\n  Greece, 282, 290\n  India, 332\n  Persian, 405\n\n\nGames, Greek, 294\n\nGautama Buddha, 356\n  his death, 361\n\nGermans, the ancient, 258\n  their gods, 259\n  their gods identified with Roman, 260\n  working religion of, 260\n  later religion, 263\n\nGhosts, 34\n\nGods, the great,\n  in Babylonia, 98\n  in Egypt, 137\n  of the Aryans, 252\n  German, 259\n  Icelandic, 266\n  of Homer, 285\n  Roman, 311\n  Indian, 326\n\nGomme, _Ethnology in Folklore_, 60, 249, 254\n\nGreece, 274\n\nGrimm, German Mythology, 260\n\n\nHades, 291\n\nHammurabi, 93, 95, 202\n\nHanyfs, 224\n\nHartmann, Edward von, 46\n\nHeaven, 52\n  an object of primitive worship, 31, 53\n  Babylonia, 93\n  China, 112\n  Arabia, 219\n  India, 318, 326, 333\n\nHegira, 231\n\nHell, 229, 265, 392\n\nHenotheism, 56\n\nHeroic legends,\n  Babylonian, 100\n  German, 262\n\nHesiod, 291\n\nHomer, 283\n  worship in, 287\n\nHomeric gods, 285\n\nHymns,\n  Babylonian, 101\n  Egyptian, 144\n  Vedic, 328\n  Persian, 383. See Psalms\n\n\nIceland, 264\n  decay of old religion of, 272\n\nIdols,\n  none in primitive religion, 73\n  Arabia, 219, 220\n  German? 264\n\nImmortality,\n  China, 115\n  Egypt, 152\n\nIncas, the religion of, 85-88\n\nIndia, 324\n\nIndividual, the, not considered in primitive religion, 76\n\nIndividual religion,\n  Babylonia, 104\n  Israel, 205\n  Greece, 300\n  India, 346\n  a high stage of religion, 429\n  the porch to universalism, 430\n  See Buddhism\n\nIndo-Europeans. See Aryans\n\nIsaiah xli.-lxvi., 203\n\nIslam, 217. See Mahomet\n  meaning of, 226\n  spread of, 237\n  a universal religion, 240\n  weakness of, 241\n\nIsrael, 179\n\nIsrael and Canaanites, 184\n  Prophets, 189\n  reforms of religion, 200\n  exile, 202\n  the return, 204\n\nIstar, 101\n\n\nJainism, 362\n\nJapan, 115\n\nJehovah, 182\n\nJesus Christ, 413, _sqq._\n\nJewish religion, 205\n  spiritual elements of, 209\n  heathenish elements of, 210\n  Persian influence on? 215\n\nJinns, 220\n\nJob, 215\n\nJudaism, 205 _sqq._\n  Hellenistic period of, 412\n  at time of Christ, 413\n\n\nKathenotheism, 55, 336\n\nKoran, 225, 227, 239\n\n\nLang, Andrew, 25, 59; _Myth, Ritual, and Religion_, 22\n\nLegge, Dr., 110, 113\n\nLiteratures, sacred, 179\n  Babylonia, 93, 100\n  Buddhist, 353\n  China, 108\n  Eddas, 266\n  Egypt, 127, 154\n  Koran, 225, 227, 239\n  Israel, 179, 207\n  Sibylline books, 319\n  Vendidad, 406\n  Zend-Avesta, 382\n\nLocal nature of early religion, 60\n\nLocal observances,\n  Aryan, 253\n  old German, 262\n  Icelandic, 264\n\nLockyer, _Dawn of Astronomy_, 94\n\n\nMagi, 405\n\nMagic, 74\n  Babylonia, 95\n  Egypt, 155\n\nMahomet, 225, _sqq._\n  preaching, 228\n  leaves Mecca, 231\n  at Medina, 232\n  breach with Judaism and Christianity, 234\n  domestic, 235\n\nManicheism, 408\n\nMannhardt, _Feld- und Waldkulte_, 59, 262\n\nManu, law of, 344\n\nMassebah, 172\n\nMaya, 349\n\nMcLennan, 59\n\nMecca, 220\n  becomes capital of Islam, 235\n\nMeyer, E., 247\n\nMithra, 407\n\nMoloch, 174\n\nMonarchical Pantheon of the Aryans, 253\n\nMonotheism,\n  not primitive, 37, 56\n  in Egypt? 144\n  emergence of, in Israel, 196\n  in India, 348\n\nMorality,\n  in primitive religion, 77\n  Egyptian religion, 155\n  Greece, 279\n  Vedic religion, 335\n  Brahmanism, 345\n  of Buddhism, 372\n\nMoslem,\n  meaning of, 226\n  duties of the, 238\n\nMueller, Mr. Max, 10, 42, 246, 250, 332\n  his theory of the origin of religion, 43\n\nMycenae, 282\n\nMysteries, the Greek, 298\n\nMythology,\n  origin of, 51\n  Babylonia, 100\n  Egypt, 138\n  Greece, 280\n  Icelandic, 267\n  Indian, 333\n\n\nNational religion,\n  how different from earlier form, 81, 428\n  Israel, 191\n\nNatural religion, 80\n\nNature gods, growth of, 51\n\nNature-worship,\n  the greater, 30, 43\n  the minor, 32, 42, 57\n\nNirvana, 361, 373\n\n\nOmens, 290\n  Roman, 312\n\nOrientation, of temples, 100\n\nOrigin of religion,\n  (1) Primitive revelation, 26\n  (2) Innate idea, 26\n  (3) Psychological necessity, 27\n\nOrphism, 302\n\nOther World, the\n  in Egypt, 151\n  with the Semites, 167\n  Jewish beliefs about, 214\n  Arabia, 220\n  Iceland, 265, 266\n  Homer, 283\n\n\nPantheism,\n  in Egypt, 148\n  India, 336, 348\n\nPatriarchal society and religion of Aryans, 248\n\nPerkunas, 36\n\nPersia, 381\n  primitive religion, 385\n  contact of Jews with, 401, 406\n\nPfleiderer, Otto, 47\n\nPhenicians, 170\n  religion of, 176\n  influence on Greece, 282\n\nPhilistines, 170\n\nPhilosophy,\n  Greek, 301\n  Indian, 347\n\nPolytheism,\n  origin of, 53\n  Indian, 335\n\nPrayer,\n  primitive, 71\n  Israel, 198, 212\n  Indian, 339\n  Persian, 382, 394\n\nPriestly code, 202, 403\n\nPriests,\n  none in the earliest religion, 72\n  not necessary in early Israel, 187\n  Roman, 313\n  Brahmans, 338\n\nPrimitive religion, the, 21\n  difference between it and later forms, 79\n\nProphets, in Israel, 189\n  their criticism of the old religion of Israel, 192\n\nPsalms, 210. See Hymns\n\nPurity, laws of,\n  Israel, 209\n  Persia, 404\n\n\nRationalism,\n  Greece, 297\n  India, 350\n\nReforms,\n  of Israelite religion, 200\n  of Augustus, 322\n\nRenouf, Le Page, 145\n\nRevealed religion, 80\n\nReville, M., 25, 31, 42\n\nResurrection, 214\n\nRetribution, after death,\n  in Egypt, 155\n  Mahomet, 229\n  Israel, 214\n\nRig-veda, the, 325\n\nRitualism,\n  Brahmanic, 343\n  Roman, 314\n  Persian, 403\n  Jewish, 204, 208\n\nRome, 305, _sqq._\n\nRouge, M. de la, 145\n\n\nSacred places, 59\n  Semitic, 165\n  Canaanite, 184, 200\n  Arabia, 219\n  Germany, 261\n\nSacred seasons, 75\n\nSacrifice,\n  primitive, generally a meal, 67\n  in China, 114\n  Semitic, 164\n  human (Phenician), 175\n  human (Israel), 187\n  human (Icelandic), 265\n  early Israelite, 183\n  denounced by O. T. prophets, 193\n  Jewish, 207\n  Icelandic, 264\n  Homeric, 287\n  Persia, 394\n\nSaussaye, P. D. Chantepie de la, 17\n\nSavage elements in all the great religions, 21\n\nSavages,\n  their religion falls short of the definition, 8\n  represent the original state of mankind, 19\n  mental habits of, 23\n  all have religion, 25\n  the religion of, described, 29, _sqq._\n  their beliefs furnish the elements of the great religions, 63\n\nSchrader (Aryans), 247, 252\n\nSemites, 161\n  religion of, 162\n  gods of, 164, 173\n  goddess of, 99, 165, 219\n\nSeraph, 220\n\nShin-to, 115\n\nSin,\n  Babylon, 103\n  Israel, 205\n\nSlavs, 256\n\nSmith, Robertson, 61; _Religion of the Semites_, 58, 70, 162\n\nSpencer, Mr. H., 11, 39\n\nSpirit, the great, 36\n\nSpirits,\n  of dead persons, 33\n  worship of, the origin of all religion? 38\n  in Babylonia, 95\n  in China, 114\n  in Arabia, 220\n  in Greece, 275\n  in Persia, 398\n\nStanding stones, 60\n\nSun, 30\n\nSun-gods,\n  Babylonia, 99\n  Egypt, 140, 148\n  Phenician, 176\n  Arabian, 219\n\nSupreme Being, an object of primitive worship? 36\n\nSurvival of savage state in the great religions, 21\n\nSynagogue, 212\n\nSyncretism, of gods in Egypt, 148\n\n\nTaboo, 72\n\nTaoism, 121\n\nTaylor, Dr. I., 247, 248\n\nTemples,\n  not primitive, 72\n  Babylonia, 99\n  Egyptian, 128, 130, 136\n  Phenician and Jewish, 178\n  Greek, 292\n  Roman, 318, 323\n\nTeraphim, 188\n\nTeutons, 256. See Germans\n\nThunder, 30, 265, 270\n\nTiele, Dr. C. P., 15\n\nTotemism, 58, 135, 277\n\nTransmigration, 302, 351, 368\n\nTree-worship,\n  primitive, 32, 59, 278\n  Babylonia, 101\n  Canaanites, 172\n  Arabia, 219\n  Greece, 278\n\nTribal religion, 57, 77, 427\n\nTylor, Mr., _Primitive Culture_, 10, 20, 25, 29, 39, 62, 63, 68\n\n\nUnder-world, the,\n  Babylonia, 100, 102\n  Egypt, 140, 142, 152\n\nUnity of all religion, 4\n\nUniversal deities of the Aryans, 252\n\nUniversalism,\n  in O. T. prophets, 195\n  in Islam, 240\n  in Christianity, 419\n\nUrim and Thummim, 188\n\n\nVedic hymns, 328\n\nVedic religion, 324, _sqq._\n  its gods, 326\n  is it early or late? 331\n\nVow, original meaning of, 75\n\n\nWaitz and Gerland's _Anthropologie der Naturvoelker_, 29\n\nWellhausen, J., 163, 218\n\nWells, sacred, 32, 57, 59\n\nWorship,\n  an essential element of religion, 9\n  primitive, 66\n  Chinese, 112\n  Egyptian, 147\n  Canaanite, 173\n  Israelite, 187\n  Jewish, 207\n  Roman, 309\n  See Sacrifice\n\n\nZeus, etymology of, 250, 286, 296\n\nZoomorphism, 53\n\nZoroaster, 384\n  his call, 388\n  his doctrine, 391\n\n\n\nPRINTED AT THE EDINBURGH PRESS, 9 AND 11 YOUNG STREET.","title":"History of Religion: A Sketch of Primitive Religious Beliefs and Practices, and of the Origin and Character of the Great Systems","tradition":"scripture-revelation","translated_text":null,"word_count":147285}