{"collection":"scripture-revelation","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_71722/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_71722","id":"gutenberg_71722","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/71722","summary":null,"tags":["Category: Archaeology & Anthropology","Category: Religion/Spirituality","Prayer","Religions","Rites and ceremonies"],"text":"THE EVOLUTION OF\n RELIGION\n\n AN ANTHROPOLOGICAL STUDY\n\n BY\n L. R. FARNELL, M.A., D.Litt.\n\n AUTHOR OF \u201cCULTS OF THE GREEK STATES\u201d\n FELLOW AND TUTOR OF EXETER COLLEGE, OXFORD; UNIVERSITY LECTURER\n IN CLASSICAL ARCH\u00c6OLOGY; CORRESPONDING MEMBER OF THE\n GERMAN IMPERIAL ARCH\u00c6OLOGICAL INSTITUTE; FELLOW\n OF THE ANTHROPOLOGICAL SOCIETY\n\n\n\n\n NEW YORK: G. P. PUTNAM\u2019S SONS\n LONDON: WILLIAMS AND NORGATE\n 1905\n\n\n\n\n Preface\n\n{v}\n\nA small book on a great and difficult subject must explain and\napologise for itself, especially if it cannot claim a _raison d\u2019\u00eatre_\nas a handbook for beginners. Having accepted the stimulating\ninvitation to give in the spring of this year a short series of\nlectures for the Hibbert Trust on some subject belonging to the\ndepartment of comparative religion, I felt that it was desirable to\navoid those topics that had been appropriated by former lecturers; and\nalso that the Trustees, as well as the audience, deserved that what\nthe lecturer put forth should embody the results of some personal and\noriginal study. I finally selected for special discussion the ritual\nof purification, and {vi} the influence of the ideas associated with\nit upon law, morality, and religion; and secondly, the development of\nprayer from lower to higher forms. These subjects do not appear to\nhave been as yet exhaustively treated by modern anthropology or\nscientific and comparative theology, and I had already worked upon\nthem to some extent as \u201cparerga\u201d of the treatise that I am completing\nfor the Clarendon Press on the history of Greek cults. I am aware that\nthese special questions would well repay longer and more minute\nresearch, and could each furnish material for a large volume. But\nhaving been advised to publish the lectures more or less as they were\ndelivered, I put them forth as tentative and incomplete work. I\nspecially regret to have been unable to have gone further at present\ninto the Egyptian evidence, with the kindly proffered assistance of Mr\nGriffiths, the Reader in Egyptology at Oxford.\n\nThe first two lectures, dealing with the methods and the value of the\nstudy of comparative {vii} religion and its relations to anthropology,\nare of a more general character. If they seem to occupy somewhat too\nlarge a part of a work of this small compass, the urgency of the\nquestions they raise may serve as an apology. It was suggested to me\nthat some such pronouncement might be timely at the point we have\nreached. For the subject is winning greater consideration, and even\nreceiving endowment, in the organisation of the newer Universities.\nFrom the scientific point of view it is one of the most fascinating of\nstudies; and its practical importance for our colonial administrators\nand our missionaries is obvious to those who reflect. It is also a\nlegitimate hope that its wider and more intelligent recognition in\nEngland may tend to cool and temper the heated atmosphere of dogmatic\ncontroversy, by presenting religious facts in their true proportion\nand proper setting.\n\nI must take this opportunity of expressing my gratitude to many\nfriends for valuable {viii} assistance, and especially to my friend\nand colleague, Mr R. Marett, to whose comprehensive knowledge of the\nreligious thought and ritual of savage races I owe many important\nclues.\n\n                                              L. R. FARNELL.\n\n_August_, 1905.\n\n\n\n\n Contents\n\n{ix}\n\nLECTURES I. AND II.\n\n THE COMPARATIVE STUDY OF RELIGIONS: ITS METHOD AND PROBLEMS\n\nLECTURE III.\n\n THE RITUAL OF PURIFICATION AND THE CONCEPTION OF PURITY: THEIR\n INFLUENCE ON RELIGION, MORALITY, AND SOCIAL CUSTOM\n\nLECTURE IV.\n\n THE EVOLUTION OF PRAYER FROM LOWER TO HIGHER FORMS\n\nINDEX\n\nENDNOTES\n\n\n\n\n The Evolution of Religion\n\n{1}\n\n LECTURES I. AND II.\n THE COMPARATIVE STUDY OF RELIGIONS: ITS METHOD AND PROBLEMS\n\nThe reasonable and sympathetic study of the various religions of\nmankind, which are perhaps the clearest mirror we possess of human\nfeeling, aspiration, and thought in its highest and lowest forms, is\nonly possible for the individual or for the age that feels no\nconstraining call to suppress and obliterate all save one cherished\ncreed. Such study began, as we should expect, in the earlier Hellenic\nperiod, the Hellenic religion throwing few or no obstacles in the way\nof undogmatic investigation; and the first anthropologist of religion\nis Herodotus. Then among Hellenistic {2} scholars and those of\npre-Christian Rome there were some who devoted themselves to the\ncollection and exposition of the religious institutions of foreign\nraces. But save a few short treatises, such as Plutarch\u2019s _De Iside et\nOsiride_, Sallustius\u2019 _De Diis et Mundo_, Lucian\u2019s _De Dea Syria_,\nnothing has survived beyond the titles and the fragments of their\nworks; and by an irony of fortune we owe much of our knowledge of\nHellenic and other religions of the Mediterranean area to the\nChristian controversialists, who reveal many of the essential features\nof the various pagan creeds in order to expose them to obloquy: they\ncould not anticipate that we should gather as the fruit of their\nlabours a better appreciation than we could otherwise have gained of\nthe religions which they strove to destroy, and possibly of\nChristianity itself. If I were attempting, as I do not propose to\nattempt, to give a complete survey of the growth and development of\nthe study which we are considering, I should probably be able to cull\n{3} but little material for the narrative from Byzantine and medi\u00e6val\nsources. We may note that the spirit of these ages was, on the whole,\nalien to our present interest; and that it is not till after the\nRenaissance and the discovery of America that systematic work in this\nfield begins again. To two Spaniards of Peruvian and Mexican\ndescent,[3.1] we owe our knowledge of the religions of the Incas and\nthe Aztecs, that of the latter at least being of prime importance for\nthe student of the higher religions of mankind. A Polish nobleman of\nthe 16th century has left us a fairly detailed account of the\nreligious practices and beliefs of the then semi-pagan\nLithuania.[3.2] But it may be regarded as one of the greatest\nachievements of the latter part of the 19th century to have raised the\ncomparative study of religion to a high position in the whole domain\nof inductive speculation and inquiry. And {4} its development has been\nmainly due to two independent lines of investigation. The first\nstimulus came with the discovery and the interpretation of the sacred\nbooks of the East, a momentous epoch in the history of European\nthought, and certain important theories concerning religious origins\nwere put forth by Vedic scholars, and based on the evidence of Vedic\nliterature: at the same time the decipherment of the\nAssyrian-Babylonian and Egyptian texts has contributed a wealth of new\nmaterial, and has started new problems of religious inquiry, which\nspecially concern the students of Hellenic as well as those of Semitic\nantiquity. But an equally or, as some may think, more powerful factor\nin the recent advance towards the organised knowledge of religions has\nbeen the growth, in the last half-century, of the study that has\nappropriated the name of anthropology, which is generally understood\nto mean the study of primitive or savage man, both in the past and the\npresent, {5} in respect of his physical and mental conditions. It is\nquite unnecessary for me to dilate on the high and manifold utility,\nboth practical and speculative, of this new branch of human inquiry;\nthe theme has become almost a popular commonplace in the leading\njournalism of the day. And anthropology, defined as above, has a\ndefinite value and object apart from its contributions to our\nknowledge of the religions of the world. It is nevertheless true that\nthe religious interest in England is so strong and penetrating, that\nmany of our leading anthropologists, in their investigations of savage\nsociety, have directed their attention mainly to religious or\nquasi-religious phenomena. Even if their labours were confined to the\ndiscovery and the exposition of savage ritual and belief, we should\nstill be greatly indebted to them; for to many of us at least the\nsavage man is interesting in his own right, whether it is true or not\nthat the study of his mental phenomena helps to explain the mental\nphenomena of our higher selves or of the {6} higher races in the past.\nBut these writers claim, and I think with right, to have done more\nthan this, and by comparison, induction, and hypothesis to have thrown\nsome light on the evolution of religion from lower to higher forms,\nand therefore to have laid the foundation for the science with which\nwe are concerned. Also attempts have been recently made by an\naccomplished scholar of the new doctrine, Dr Frazer, to trace what may\nbe called the anthropological genesis of the central idea of\nChristianity itself.[6.1] It is not then surprising that in England\nat least such claims and such ambitions should excite mistrust, even\nhostility, and the prestige of anthropology may have also suffered at\ntimes from the indiscretion of its friends. Still, its work is of wide\nvogue, its energy exuberant, and its influence in the future assured.\nIn considering, therefore, the aims and methods of the comparative\nscience of religion, it has appeared to me that its relations to\nanthropology {7} are now one of the main points in the inquiry. And we\nmay seem to have reached a stage where it is desirable to test our\nposition, to take stock as it were, to examine our methods, and to\nconsider whether they are capable of improvement. The task is\ndifficult, and in facing it one must face the imputation of\npresumption, especially as in a short course of lectures one must be\nbrief, and may therefore appear over-dogmatic.\n\nIf the comparative study of religion is to examine, as on the ground\nof its title it must, the various recorded or discoverable religions\nof every branch of the human family, then a part of anthropology,\nlimited, as it has usually chosen to limit itself, to the study of the\nsavage races, is obviously a sub-department of the whole. And its\nwork, conducted often under great difficulties, has been solid,\nwell-organised, and of high importance. Even those who deny its claim\nto be called a science, whatever that word may mean, must admit that\nit is at least an indispensable branch of historic {8} inquiry, and\nthat it has deepened the self-knowledge of mankind.\n\nSome of its pioneers may have been overeager in their theorising,\npremature in their attempts to reveal the origin of all religion in\nsome savage ritual or in the background of savage thought, for\ninstance in ancestor-worship or totemism. Such rash generalisations\nare inevitable in the opening periods of a new study, and may be\ndiscredited or abandoned without discrediting the investigations that\ngave rise to them. We may have come to be aware of the excesses of the\nstudents of totemism: we may have come to the conviction that neither\ntheirs nor any other special and single hypothesis has as yet supplied\nus with the master-clue by which we can penetrate to the aboriginal\nsource of human religion: we may have found scientific reasons for\nrejecting the belief that all gods arose as ghosts of departed\nancestors. But if we discard such theories of origin, we owe this\nnegative result to the maturer study of anthropology {9} itself; and\nwe may owe to it the positive induction that the religious product at\nthe different stages and in the different branches of mankind was a\ncomplex growth from many different germs.\n\nIt has taught us also much more than this. It has shown us that all\nthrough the present societies of savage men there prevails an\nextraordinary uniformity, in spite of much local variation, in ritual\nand mythology, a uniformity so striking as to suggest belief in an\nultimately identical tradition, or, perhaps more reasonably, the\npsychologic theory that the human brain-cell in different races at the\nsame stage of development responds with the same religious speech or\nthe same religious act to the same stimuli supplied by its\nenvironment.\n\nWe have learnt to discover a certain savage style, as we may call it,\nin myth and ritual; and anthropology has performed a twofold work of\ncomparison; for it has not only compared the various savage races of\nmankind, but it has compared the results of this colligation {10} with\nthe religious phenomena of the higher races, and has revealed the\nsavage style in much of their mythology and ritual. It was first\ndiscovered by the earlier investigators of the antiquity of Northern\nEurope, such as the brothers Grimm and Mannhardt, that underlying the\nreligion of Christendom lay a stratum of peasant-ritual and belief,\nnot yet extinct nor likely soon to be, that reveals the same mental\ncondition in early Europe that exists among our savage contemporaries\nin various parts of the world. Then the sacred edifice of Hellenism\nwas attacked; and the complacency of Hellenic scholars was sometimes\ndisturbed by the revelation, through a strict comparative method, of\nthe same savage style in much of Hellenic ritual and Hellenic myth.\nThus for the first time we came to understand the true significance of\nmany of the crude and repulsive facts in Hellenic religion--the human\nsacrifices, the reverence paid to animals, stones, and trees, the\ndemonology and magic rites. Many of these practices {11} had lost\ntheir meaning for the more advanced generations, who nevertheless\nretained them under the strong constraint of religious conservatism;\nbut if we find the same practices among existing races who perform\nthem with a living and plenary faith as part of a quasi-logical\nstructure of belief, we can place them back into their proper setting\nwhen we discover them still surviving in the higher and alien society.\nGreek religion especially, having never violently broken with its own\npast, is a bed of rich deposit still inviting exploration. And now\nHellenic scholars are ransacking the same treasure for further\nanthropological material; while Assyriologists and Egyptologists are\ntreating a part of the phenomena of their special departments in the\nsame spirit.\n\nWe realise the gain of this: we are slowly and surely arriving at\ninductive conclusions concerning the similarity of development through\nwhich the higher and lower races have passed and are passing; the\nsolidarity of the human family appears stronger than we {12} might\nhave supposed. At the same time we have now to be on our guard against\ncertain common anthropological fallacies. Some of these are less\ninevitable than others: for instance, that which we may call the\nfallacy of simple enumeration. On the ground of the general inductive\nbelief that the higher races have at one time passed through a savage\nphase, it is often too rashly assumed that each and all of them must\nat one time have possessed a particular institution, such as totemism\nor ancestor-worship, which, as a matter of fact, is found among the\nmajority of the savage races of to-day. This is to exaggerate the\nprinciple of solidarity, to ignore the fact of the great diversity\nactually observable among existing primitive societies, and the\npossibility that it was just by avoiding some particular detrimental\ninstitution that some of the higher peoples were able to proceed on\ntheir path of progress. Again, the anthropological explanation is\noften obliged to be hypothetical, for the evidence presented {13} is\noften very fragmentary: by means of a reasonable and expert\nimagination, an attempt is made to reconstruct a whole fabric out of\na few fragments. A single bone may enable the expert biologist to\nreshape unerringly the once living animal; but in anthropology the\nfragment in question may have descended from either one of two\ndiffering organisms or organic institutions that may have left very\nmuch the same imprint upon mythology and religion. For instance, a\nfull-fledged totemistic system, having fallen into decay, might leave\nits trace in certain stories about animals or in occasional reverence\npaid to a particular animal: but direct animal-worship, a religious\nview that may be quite independent of totemism, or certain forms of\nancestor-worship may equally well have deposited the same\nfossil-thought or fossil-rite.[13.1] And we know how recklessly the\ntheory of the ubiquitous practice {14} of human sacrifice has been\nused to explain certain peculiar phenomena in later ritual, such as\nthe scourging of the Spartan boys, for example.\n\nBut a stricter anthropology can correct the over-narrow hypotheses of\nits immaturity, and can render masterly aid to the evolutionary study\nof the higher religions; for each of these, in spite of revelation or\ntransforming enthusiasm that would obliterate the past, contains a\nmass of mysterious dead matter; and it is for the anthropologist to\nshow the prior functional organic significance of this. But if, in\nobedience to the currently accepted limitation of his subject, he\nconfines himself mainly to the study of savage life and to the dead\nmatter of the higher religions, and yet is tempted to deal with the\nmore vital and essential elements in these, he will be liable to the\nspecial bias of his own study. We may note such bias in recent\nattempts to explain the essential features of the Eleusinian Mysteries\nin the light of merely savage anthropology. {15} And of course we are\nall apt to lose the sense of proportion and to exaggerate the\nimportance of the special phenomena to which we confine our regard.\nThe folk-lorist will be liable to over-emphasise the part played by\nmythology in religion, and may ignore the higher importance of prayer\nand ritual; for the most conscientious cobbler is never really able to\nstick to his last. In fact, though the whole exposition of the higher\nreligions is impossible without anthropology, there is some danger at\npresent lest the part be at times mistaken for the whole. For\ninstance, we may feel with some uneasiness that recent expositions of\nHellenic religion tend, unintentionally no doubt, to distort the view\nof the reader and to produce a false impression by exaggerating the\nsavage and primitive facts, missing the true perspective and\nmisjudging the whole. Our appreciation of Greek mythology may suffer\nin the same way, unless we can keep the keen edge of our appreciative\nfaculty: the Greek myth has often its striking {16} affinities with\nthe Arunta or the Pawnee, and it is necessary for comparative\nfolk-lore and anthropology to point this out, and often to insist on\nthe beauty of the legend and the dignity of the religious thought\namong savages: but it is unfortunate if these studies should result in\nour loss of the perception that Greek mythology, after all, is the\nmost beautiful of any of which we have record.\n\nThe fallacy which I have so far tried to indicate arises from the\ntemper of mind that a special study is liable to engender. On the\nother hand, there is a particular fallacy of method to which the\nmodern study of anthropology, as it has chosen to limit itself,\nspecially exposes us. It is liable to withdraw us from the immediate\nentourage of a particular fact--a particular legend or a religious\nservice--to the distant circumference. It was inevitable for the\nearliest pioneers of the study to travel far, for the circumference\nwas unexplored, and there were facts lying at the distant points that\nconcerned us. But, after all, our first {17} object of study should be\nthe more immediate environment of the thing which we wish to\nunderstand. The student of Hellenic religion and myth may have\nultimately to roam, in a literary sense, into Central Australia and\nthe byways of America; but he ought first to explore the Mediterranean\nregions and the lands of anterior Asia. It is interesting, and may be\nnecessary, to know \u201cthe Pawnee version of the Eleusinia\u201d; but, for the\ntrue understanding of the great Greek mystery, certain elements in the\nEgyptian religion, in Mithraism, and in Christianity itself will\nprobably afford a more illuminative comparison. The mind of our\nstudent is sometimes tempted, in fact, to travel too easily and too\ncheaply to the other side of the globe, and to leave undone work that\nshould first have been done nearer home.\n\nTo reduce these ideas to something like a working formula of method,\nmay we say that the anthropology which the comparative study of any\none of the more complex and {18} advanced religions immediately\ndemands is \u201can adjacent anthropology\u201d? For religious ideas, legends,\nand ritual are most contagious, and tend to propagate themselves over\nlarge contiguous areas: for, to reverse a stereotyped question, \u201cwhat\nis less its own than a people\u2019s gods?\u201d We greatly desiderate an\nanthropology of the Mediterranean basin, including anterior Asia; for\nthere are strong reasons for the belief that from very early times the\nfrequent intercourse of the leading peoples in this region endowed\nthem with a common stock of religious ideas, ritual, and legend which\nhave probably left their impress on the higher religions of the world.\nIt is these that specially interest most of us, and we feel we cannot\nsolve their problems by means of savage anthropology alone. Why, after\nall, should the latter term be restricted, as it usually is, to the\nstudy of savage life? Doubtless we cannot so extend the use of the\nword as to cover its full etymological signification: else it would\ncome to include the whole of human history {19} from the beginning\ndown to the present, and would lose its value as a mark of any special\nscience. But we might somewhat enlarge its present connotation with\nadvantage to the comparative method, and without a too wide departure\nfrom current usage. We might define the anthropological study of any\none of the higher religions as an evolutionary study of its\nembryology: the evolutionary law might appear in the first instance as\na proximate law of growth. For probably every one of the world-creeds\nhas inherited, apart from its own achievement, a double tradition, a\ntradition from the more remote and one from the more immediate past.\nThe first may descend from immemorial antiquity, and from really\nprimitive or savage mental and social life; and it has been the task\nof primitive anthropology to expound and explain the facts that this\ntradition has deposited. But many if not most of these facts may be\nregarded as functionally dead matter surviving in the more advanced\nsystem of belief, and as not belonging {20} to its essential life. On\nthe other hand, from the immediate tradition much will be found to\nhave been taken over by an inevitable law of assimilation, certain\npotent ideas which, though transformed, will enter into the very\nlife-blood of the new creed. And these are to be discovered and\nanalysed by what I have ventured to call an \u201cadjacent\u201d anthropology,\nwhich will include a comprehensive study of the literature and\nmonuments belonging to the more proximate past of the race which\ndevelops the new faith as well as of the races that are its nearer\nneighbours.\n\nSuch a method, though not hitherto styled anthropological, has already\nbeen applied by various scholars in the different parts of our field;\nthe exposition of the Babylonian elements in Judaic religion, of the\nJudaic and pagan elements in Moslemism, are examples of it. On the\npresent occasion I would prefer to illustrate it by noting its\napplication to the scientific study of Christianity itself, of which\nthe remarkable complexity, {21} the variety of forms that it has\nassumed in different parts of Christendom at different periods, seems\nspecially to invite the higher anthropological treatment. Moreover it\nprobably contains a richer deposit than any other of the\nworld-religions from the various streams of thought and belief that\nnourished the life of early civilised or semi-civilised man. The\nillustration drawn from our own religion will be also more personally\ninteresting to ourselves; and though the limits of time and my own\nknowledge may prevent me from putting forth any original statement,\nyet something may be gained and a more extended interest awakened by a\nbrief notice of what has been and what remains to be done.\n\nThere is now no need for apology if one wishes frankly to consider the\ngenesis of the fundamental ideas and prevailing institutions of\nearlier and later Christianity, although hitherto a certain religious\nshyness, which belongs to the national character, may have made\nEnglish {22} scholars reluctant to attempt the anthropology of our\nnational faith; and the progress of the subject owes more to foreign\nworkers. Our own theological students of distinction have not evaded\nthe question as to the early influences that may have moulded the\nreligious thought of Christ and St Paul; but these were naturally\nsought mainly in the later Judaism; and though the debt of the\ndeveloped Christianity to Hellenic philosophy has never been ignored,\nyet that neither our sacred books nor Judaic literature nor Greek\nphilosophy explain the whole complex of historic Christianity, is a\nconviction of recent growth, and the investigations to which it has\nprompted are recent. For instance, it was a new departure of great\npromise for the future of our science when, in a course of Hibbert\nlectures delivered some years ago, Dr Hatch publicly expounded the\ndeep indebtedness of Christianity in respect of ritual, organisation,\nand even religious concept to the Eleusinian Mysteries and other\nmystic societies of Greek lands. And the few {23} students of Hellenic\nreligion in England have often noted its many ties of affinity with\nour own, though of these there has been as yet no complete and\nauthoritative account. We may admit that the triumph of a new and\ngreat creed may imply a potent revelation, perhaps a sudden mental\ntransformation in the catechumens difficult to equate with any\nformulated law of evolution. Still we cannot gainsay the experience\nthat as the religion establishes and organises itself, it draws\nnourishment from the old soil which is full of the living germs of\npast organisms. Therefore it was inevitable that Hellenic religion\nshould leave a deep impress upon earlier and later Christianity;\npartly because the religious temper in the Greek world throughout the\ncenturies immediately preceding the adoption of Christianity was more\npowerful and fervid than it had been in the days of Homer or Pericles,\nand mainly because Hellenic converts became the pillars of the Church.\nBut the comparative student must pursue the {24} problem further\nafield and beyond the track of Hellas. The old Phrygian religion,\nwhich Professor Ramsay\u2019s travels and investigations have assisted us\nto know, must be seriously taken into account; for Phrygia was one of\nthe earliest homes of Christianity, its aboriginal religion had\ngerminated in ideas strikingly akin to some that are primary in all or\nmany of the creeds of Christendom; and the morbid and ecstatic\ntemperament of the native Phrygian, which gave so distinct a colour to\nthe Cybele-Attis cult, seems to have appeared again in certain\nschismatic forms of Christian doctrine in Phrygia, especially in the\nheresy of Montanism. Finally, we may learn much, even adopt much, from\nour enemies. The most dangerous antagonists of Christianity were,\nafter all, the worship of Isis and Mithraism. It may be possible to\ntrace the influence of these on their conqueror: the great work of M.\nCumont on Mithras cult suggests at least many interesting religious\nparallels; and even the older Zoroastrian {25} literature must be\nconsidered within the range of necessary and legitimate comparison.\n\nAs I am here concerned with illustration of method rather than with\npositive proof, I can only offer a very brief summary of the results\nwhich the anthropological study of Christianity has hitherto achieved,\nand may yet achieve.\n\nThe religious affinities discoverable between the earlier and later\n\u201cMediterranean\u201d systems may be classified according as they appear in\nthe legends, in nomenclature and terminology, in external symbols and\nliturgical objects, in hieratic institutions, and finally in the\nideas, aspirations, and concepts of faith. As regards legend and\nmythology, a great historic religion may of course claim to be free\nfrom all mythology; nevertheless it is a matter of experience that\npopular legends are sure at some period earlier or later to creep in,\nfor the people insist on telling the old stories under changed names.\nI myself have heard the immemorial story of Odysseus walking inland\nwith his oar, which the rustic mistakes {26} for a winnowing-fan, told\nabout St Peter, St Paul, and St John on the coast of the Peloponnese;\njust as an old Norse legend about Odin and Baldur is retold of Christ\nand St Peter.[26.1] And students of medi\u00e6val hagiology will discover\nmore and more clearly various fragments of pre-Christian mythology\nembedded in the legends of the saints. Such facts are the material of\ncomparative folk-lore, which plays a useful but quite subordinate part\nin the work of comparative religion. Legends have indeed their own\nindependent interest, poetical, ethical, and other; but the importance\nof mere mythology in the study of religion has been often much\noverrated; St Augustine, mistaking Greek legends for Greek religion,\ncould discover no morality in it at all,[26.2] and modern scholars\nhave inherited the fallacy. Myths are often irresponsible, capricious,\nvolatile, and flit like a vapour round the solid structure of real\n{27} belief and ritual. A high religion may attract low myths: some of\nour own are not spotless, but Christianity can ignore them. The myth\nthat is an essential fact for the student of religion is that which\nenshrines some living religious idea or institution, or one which\nproves the survival of some ritual or faith that belonged to an older\nsystem. I may note a few of this kind which illustrate the affinities\nof Judaic, Christian, and pagan legend. The cessation of\nhuman-sacrifice in the Mediterranean area, the awakening of the\nconviction that the practice was abhorrent to a merciful God, implied\nso momentous a change in religious and moral thought and practice that\nit would be strange if it left no legendary record of itself. We may\ndiscern one in the story of Abraham\u2019s sacrifice; to which we find a\nvery striking and close parallel in the Laconian legend of Helen,\nwhose father intended to sacrifice her to God in order to stay a\nplague:[27.1] {28} the eagle, the messenger of God, swooped down and\nsnatched the knife from the sacrificer\u2019s hand, and let it fall on a\nkid that was pasturing near. Again, we are all familiar with the story\nof Jephtha\u2019s vow: the fact is not so well known that a story identical\nin nearly every detail was told of Idomeneus, the Cretan hero,[28.1]\nwho vowed that if he returned home from the Trojan war he would\nsacrifice to God the first thing that he met on landing: his daughter\nwas the first that met him--and Idomeneus \u201cdid with her according to\nhis vow,\u201d or intended to do so, and the people exiled him for it.\nDifferent from these, but belonging to the inner circle, so to speak,\nof sacred narrative, are one or two Gospel stories which are not\npeculiar to Palestine or to our sacred books. The miraculous star that\nguides sacred personages on a divine errand must be an Anatolian\nstar-legend, for it is told of \u00c6neas and his voyage to Italy.[28.2]\nAnd a critical appreciation of the {29} style of Hellenic folk-lore\ndetects at once a marked Hellenic colour in the legends that gather\naround the birth and rearing of the Virgin in the apocryphal Gospel of\nSt James. More important and suggestive of much more is the\nparallelism that we discover between the story of our Lord\u2019s\ntemptation and the temptation of Zarathustra in the Zend-Avesta: here\nalso the evil god offers the holy prophet the kingdoms of the world if\nhe will fall down and worship him.[29.1]\n\nFinally, it is not improbable that the strange legend preserved in\nvarious late Greek MSS., of the Virgin Mary\u2019s descent into\nhell,[29.2] where she is shown the torments of the damned, is derived\nultimately from the Babylonian myth of the descent of Ischtar, which\nin the Greek world transformed itself into the story of the descent of\nAphrodite. This suggestion is in harmony with the evidence which will\nbe {30} noticed below for the belief that the development of the\nworship and the divine character of the Virgin owed much, directly or\nindirectly, to the great Anatolian cult of the mother-goddess.\n\nAs regards the legend just mentioned, we may suppose direct borrowing,\nor at least direct mental suggestion from an older mythology and\nfaith. To the other examples which I have adduced--probably only a few\namong many that might be quoted--the theory of borrowing may be\ninappropriate.\n\nIt may be more scientific, and certainly it is at present more\nexpedient, to be content with the assumption that for thousands of\nyears over contiguous human areas a similarity of religious\ntemperament, religious institutions, religious crises may tend to\nproduce a common stock of legend; whether the legend is true or false\nis not our present concern.\n\nI turn now to the second group of affinities, those in nomenclature\nand terminology. This may at first sight appear a matter unimportant\n{31} for the evolution of religion, and of merely linguistic concern.\nA people changing its religion cannot suddenly change its speech, but\nmust adapt the old terminology to the new thought. It may be of\ninterest for the student of language to know that when St Paul\npromises to \u201cshow you a mystery\u201d he is borrowing the language of\npaganism; that when Bishop Clemens[31.1] ecstatically exclaims, \u201cThe\nLord is our hierophant; bearing the sacred torch He has marked the\ninitiate with His own seal\u2026 once join our mystery and you will dance\nin the choir of angels,\u201d he is using the phraseology of the Eleusinian\nand Attis Mysteries. But the interest of such a style, upon which Dr\nHatch has sufficiently commented, is more than linguistic; for it\nforeshadows a real though fortunately a temporary change which came\nover Christianity in the first few centuries of its life, transforming\nit from an open doctrine into a mystery organised after the old Greek\ntype. {32} Moreover the modern logical view of names as merely\nindifferent speech-symbols, which can be changed without affecting the\nessence of the things, was by no means the old-world view. The formula\n_nomina sunt numina_ was valid in all the old religions of the\nMediterranean area, including earlier and even later Christianity: the\ndivine name was felt to be part of the divine essence and itself of\nsupernatural potency; and this will be seen to be of paramount\nimportance when we consider the forms of ancient prayer. Therefore the\npropagation of a new religion was greatly assisted if it could allow\nitself to employ some at least of the names potent and familiar in the\nolder creed. Now the personal names of the various deities of\npaganism, owing to the mental illusion noted above, were necessarily\nhateful to the new faith and were ruthlessly suppressed, surviving\nmerely as names of demons or for purposes of magic: only in remote\ncorners of the old world one or two may still be lingering, purified\nas it {33} were and at peace, as in the modern chapel of \u201cPanagia\nAphroditissa,\u201d near the old Paphos in Cyprus. But some of the sacred\nnames of Greek paganism were mere appellatives, possessing less\nindividual personality, and were therefore innocent in the ears of the\nChristian propagandists. And two of these were destined to become\nnames of primary virtue in the terminology of the new faith. When the\napostles and their successors preached the Gospel of \u201cthe Saviour,\u201d\nthis title could awaken at least a responsive religious thrill in the\nhearts of the Hellenes who had been nursed in their ancestral\nreligion. For it had long been attached to their supreme god, and in\nits feminine form to their beloved goddess Kore, and as applied to her\nthe appellative already connoted \u201csalvation\u201d after death;[33.1] and\nalready it had been used by the Alexandrian Greeks to sanctify the\ndivine man, God\u2019s representative on earth, \u201cthe {34} living image of\nGod,\u201d as one of the later Ptolemies is styled in the ecstatic language\nof the Rosetta inscription.[34.1] But in the history of divine names\nnone have been of greater import for paganism and Christianity alike\nthan \u201cKore-Parthenos\u201d and that of the Greek and Phrygian \u201cDivine\nMother,\u201d the \u03b8\u03b5\u1ff6\u03bd \u039c\u03ae\u03c4\u03b7\u03c1. It is at least probable that the\nprevalence of the cult and the name of \u201cKore,\u201d the goddess who\nproffered salvation in the pre-Christian Hellenic world, afforded\nstrong stimulus to the later growth and diffusion of Mariolatry, which\nis one of those phenomena in the history of the Church which cannot be\nadequately explained without looking beyond the limits of Christianity\nproper. A passage in the Panarium of Epiphanios[34.2] is of singular\ninterest for those who wish to study the period of transition between\nold things and {35} new. This writer tells us that on the night of the\n5th or 6th of January, in Alexandria, the worshippers met in the\nsacred enclosure or temple of \u201cKore,\u201d and having sung hymns to the\nmusic of the flute till dawn, they descended by the light of torches\ninto an underground shrine and brought up thence a wooden idol on a\nbier representing Kore, seated and naked, with the sign of the cross\non her brow, her hands, and her knees. And with the accompaniment of\nflutes, hymns, and dances the image was carried round the central\nshrine seven times, before it was restored again to its nether\ndwelling-place: \u201cand the votaries say that to-day at this hour\nKore--that is, the Virgin--gave birth to the Eternal.\u201d\n\nIt is strange that Epiphanios should quote this rite as an example of\npure paganism. This cannot be true: the image has been carefully\nsigned with the cross in such a way as to suggest, not casual\nviolence, but the deliberate intention of the worshippers; nor {36}\ncould the formula, \u201cthe Virgin has born the Eternal,\u201d have been part\nof a purely pagan liturgy consecrated to the Hellenic Kore. Still less\ncould the service be purely Christian: at least I imagine that a naked\nVirgin, kept in a cavern shrine and carried round with timbrels, would\nbe a unique fact in Christian arch\u00e6ology. The belief is forced upon\nus that we have here a blending of at least two rival creeds in a\nperiod of transition. An old ritual of Kore at Alexandria, the goddess\nof the underworld whose statue was kept in a subterraneous cavern, may\nhave included a kind of passion play in which a holy child was born:\nas this occurred near the beginning of January, it could all the more\neasily be adapted to the requirements of a gradually prevailing\nChristianity. The idol is sanctified with the sign of the cross, and\nthe child is called \u201cthe Aion.\u201d This name betrays the influence at\nwork. The doctrine which laboured most zealously to combine the\nvarious elements of the pagan and Christian creeds was Gnosticism,\n{37} and \u201cAion\u201d was a figure which the Gnostics borrowed from\nMithraism.[37.1] It seems that the religious rays from Hellas,\nPersia, and Bethlehem converged at the \u201cKorion\u201d of Alexandria. But the\nname \u039a\u03cc\u03c1\u03b7 does not seem to have usually formed part of the sacred\ntitle accepted by the early Church for the Mother of our Lord.\nProbably the name had acquired a personal association with the pagan\ngoddess too strong to allow it to be used for the new faith;[37.2]\nnor was the idea of virginity so directly connoted by it as by the\nterm \u03c0\u03b1\u03c1\u03b8\u03ad\u03bd\u03bf\u03c2: hence \u1f21 \u1f01\u03b3\u03bd\u1f74 \u03c0\u03b1\u03c1\u03b8\u03ad\u03bd\u03bf\u03c2 or \u1f21 \u1f01\u03b3\u03af\u03b1 \u03c0\u03b1\u03c1\u03b8\u03ad\u03bd\u03bf\u03c2 is chosen for\nthe Christian appellation of Mary. But these words themselves belong\nto the ancient hieratic vocabulary of Hellas, for the maiden-goddess\nknown by no other name than Parthenos had long been adored in {38}\nvarious states of Asia Minor and Thrace;[38.1] \u201cHagne,\u201d the \u201cHoly\nOne,\u201d was a divinity dear to the Arcadians;[38.2] and at Assos, the\nchief port of Mysia, visited by St Paul on one of his journeys, an\ninscription attests that \u201cthe Holy Virgin of our fatherland\u201d--such is\nher style--had been pre-eminent in the pagan worship.[38.3] Moreover\nthe sacred title, \u201cthe Mother of God,\u201d was sympathetic with a very\nancient and dominant Mediterranean faith: in prehistoric times from\nCrete, and at a later period from Phrygia, had gone forth the worship\nof the divine mother, known generally as \u201cthe Gods\u2019 Mother\u201d or \u201cthe\nMother,\u201d which had left a deep impress upon the religious imagination\nof the various races of the Greek and Roman world. It is no paradox to\naffirm that one of the streams {39} that fostered the later growth of\nMariolatry may have descended from the Minoan palace of\nKnossos.[39.1]\n\nAs regards the third group in my classification, external symbols and\nliturgical objects, we might suppose that these mainly belong to the\nminuti\u00e6 of arch\u00e6ological study. A philosopher may ignore them as\ntrivial facts; but they have been the cause of too much bloodshed and\nstrife to be ignored by the history of religions, and the feelings\nthey excite are still powerful enough to divide the churches and the\nsects of Christendom. Besides, if one religion borrows its symbols and\nsacred objects from another, it probably borrows much more besides.\nThe use of candles and incense in churches, the fashion of certain\necclesiastic vestments, can be shown to have descended to us from a\npre-Christian world. And it was quite natural that the new faith\nshould take over the religious property of paganism, whatever at least\nit could {40} receive without violation of its own essential\nprinciples. It is only the anthropological study of these particulars,\napparently insignificant in themselves, that enables us to understand\ncertain modern controversies, as for instance concerning incense, and\nalso to appreciate the extraordinary tenacity with which the\nsuccessive generations cleave to the smaller things of cult. These\nlatter are felt to be part of the spell which is exercised upon us by\nan immemorial tradition, a spell that is all the stronger because it\nworks upon the \u201csubconscious\u201d self; and those who maintain them are\nrarely aware of the aboriginal reason which prompts them. And often\nthe question about the symbols or the sacred objects of worship, as\ndistinct from the ideas and personalities, becomes obviously of prime\nimportance for the comparison and classification of religions. Thus\nthe distinction between iconic or idolatrous and aniconic or\nnon-idolatrous cults is of deep significance, for it may correspond to\nthe distinction between a more and a less {41} anthropomorphic\nconception of the divinity, or to a belief that the embodiment of him\nin material objects is right and seemly or wrong and unseemly. The\nmore spiritual a religion becomes, the greater is its inclination to\ndispense with the idol and even to reprobate it; the worshipper of\nJahv\u00e9 was thus set in antagonism to the surrounding tribes, and in\nthe Iranian region the Zarathustrian votary to the worshipper of the\nDaevas. The history of Christianity in regard to this matter is\nfamiliar to us all: in spite of the vehement protests of its apostles\nand earlier propagandists who inherited the spiritual Judaic view, we\nknow that all the efforts of the iconoclastic emperors could not\nsuppress the veneration of images in the later period. Even in the\nTeutonic north, Christianity came, in the days before the Reformation,\nto assume an iconic character which is not accounted for by the\nancestral tradition of our pagan forefathers: who certainly carved\nimages, in spite of what Tacitus tells us, but do not appear to have\nbeen markedly idolatrous. {42} We infallibly detect here the abiding\ninfluence of Greco-Roman paganism, in which idolatry had taken so deep\na root, satisfying as it did the artistic-religious cravings of the\npeople. We have records of the transformation of the old statues into\nChristian images; in an epigram we find Heracles pathetically\ncomplaining that he is forced to become St Luke:[42.1] a beautiful\nhead of Aphrodite in Athens is rudely stamped with the cross, perhaps\nto convert her into the Virgin:[42.2] at the present day there exists\nin South Italy an image of a Madonna del Granato, holding a\npomegranate, which by a curious chain of evidence can be traced with\nsome probability back to the Hera of Argos, carved by Polycleitos.\n\nNow the image may be regarded in two aspects: as a symbol merely\nbringing close to the sense the spiritual idea of divinity, and {43}\nserving to stimulate the prayerful thought of the worshipper: or it\nmay be venerated as the indwelling abode of the divinity, in which he\nhabitually resides, or into which, by spells and blood-offerings, he\nmay be compelled to enter. The first is the more spiritual and\nadvanced point of view, the orthodox aspect of the image in the iconic\nchurches of Christendom at most periods; and this is put forward as an\napology for what may seem idolatry: we may note in passing that the\nsame apology was put forward by the advanced champions of paganism.\nThe second is the more primitive view, accepted at most periods by the\npeople, and sometimes tolerated or even encouraged by certain of the\nchurches: the idol is regarded as miraculous, as infused with divine\npower, perhaps itself the very divinity; and the uncultured Greeks who\nwhipped the idol of Pan with squills if food was scarce,[43.1] or\nbound the image of Aphrodite with cords to prevent it running\naway,[43.2] the {44} Breton smith mentioned by Renan, who threatened\nthe saint\u2019s image with red-hot pincers to compel him to heal his son,\nthe modern savage who smears his idols with blood,[44.1] are to be\nclassed together in the morphology of religion.\n\nIdolatry in this sense is a higher form of fetichism, which, strictly\ndefined, is the veneration of material objects, often shaped by art\nand handled in such a way as to endow them with divine potency, which\nbring good fortune to the owner. It is supposed to connote savagery,\nbut survivals of it are found in most civilised communities, and we\nprobably all inherit some faint impress of the fetichistic spirit, nor\nneed we be startled if we find it in the higher religions.\n\nIn ancient Greece the fetich was common enough: sacred axes, sacred\nsceptres, pyramidical or cone-shaped stones, rudely hewn {45}\ntree-stumps, are examples which we find in the literature and art of\nthe historic or prehistoric periods; the most common kind of private\nfetich was the gem, carried as an amulet. This superstitious view of\ngems belonging to primitive faith has continued through many ages.\nMoreover, both in the public and private religion of Christendom in\nmany periods, and even at the present time, we can easily recognise\nthe fetichistic value of the sacred objects, relics, crucifixes; and\nthe Bible itself might sometimes be carried as an amulet about the\nperson to secure one from danger, and its modern use in the English\nlegal oath, the witness \u201ckissing the book,\u201d conforms to a fetichistic\ntype of oath which was common in the primitive Teutonic\ncommunities.[45.1] When Tertullian exclaims, \u201cHow great is the\ndifference between the wood of the cross and the shapeless wooden\nemblems of Pallas or Ceres,\u201d[45.2] he is thinking generally {46} of\nthe wide difference between Christianity and Hellenic polytheism. As\nregards the attitude of the Christian and pagan worshippers towards\nthese emblems of their cult which Tertullian mentions, we are not sure\nthat any such general distinction could be drawn. The \u201cadoration of\nthe true wood of the cross,\u201d of which we have heard in recent times,\nif we merely consider the nature of the religious object and the value\nof the material thing for faith, must be called fetichistic: at least\nI know of no other word equally appropriate in the terminology of the\nscience of religions. Doubtless the modern mind, in the performance of\nsuch ritual practices, can distinguish between the inanimate or\nmaterial thing and the divine spirit which sanctifies it. But so also\ncan the intelligent savage, who cares nothing for his piece of wood\nwhen he thinks the power-giving spirit has departed from it. The\nfetichism then of the higher religions and of the savage faith is\nmorphologically the same; the vital difference lies in {47} the\nconception of the divinity that is supposed to animate or sanctify the\nmaterial thing.\n\nIt would be wrong to attribute the fetichistic proclivities discovered\nin the Christian communities wholly to the Hellenic or Mediterranean\nstrain in our religion; for we must reckon with the survival among the\nlater ritual-observances of the superstitions of the Northern peoples,\nand fetichism was certainly characteristic of the early Teutonic,\nCeltic, and Slavonic races. In this matter, as in others, we have to\nnote that the puritanism of the early Church could not prevail against\nthe strength of habit and immemorial tradition.\n\nThe illustration of this group of affinities may conclude with the\nobservation that the most cherished emblem of our creed, the type of\nthe cross itself, had already been in vogue as a religious symbol of\ncertain of the earlier pagan peoples; it played a part in the ancient\nEgyptian[47.1] and {48} Assyrian ritual, and recently Dr Evans has\nrevealed to us in the Palace of Minos in Crete a chapel of the cross\ndedicated to the worship of the divine mother.[48.1] We can go no\nfurther than the surmise that the propagation of Christianity may have\nbeen assisted by the fact that the emblem of the new faith would not\nappear wholly unfamiliar to some of the converted races.\n\nAs regards the affinities discernible in respect of hieratic\ninstitutions, the organisation of churches, the relations of Church\nand State, I have only space to cite a few salient illustrations. The\nearliest Christian Church, a private religious society united by the\nbond of faith, the members contributing to each other\u2019s wants, with a\nsimple democratic organisation of ecclesia and sacred officials, would\nnot strike the contemporary Greco-Roman world as an unfamiliar\nphenomenon; for its family likeness {49} to the Hellenic \u201cthiasoi\u201d or\nbrotherhoods of cult was sufficiently obvious, and has often been\ncommented on. They, like it, were often proselytisers, and, ignoring\nthe barriers of caste, gens, and city, accepted in principle the\nreligious fellowship of man. \u201cIt is well to consider all men friends\nand brothers, as being the family of God,\u201d says Apollonius,[49.1]\nechoing the doctrine of the Stoics. The soil was ready prepared for\nthe new cosmopolitan religion.\n\nIn considering the history of the hierarchy in Christendom, we are\noften obliged to turn our eyes back upon the pre-Christian period. For\ninstance, the insistence on the apostolic succession in the various\nchurches, a primary {50} article of faith with many at the present\ntime, is entirely in keeping with a very old Mediterranean tradition:\nfor we find it not infrequently maintained in Hellenic paganism that\nthe priest should descend directly from the god whom he serves, or\nfrom the first apostle who instituted the particular cult or\nmystery;[50.1] we hear of the priest being qualified \u201cby descent and\nby divine appointment.\u201d[50.2] But in the earlier religious period the\nsuccession or descent was regarded in the linear and physical sense:\nthis has become refined into the idea of a spiritual succession,\nmaintained however by a continuity of physical though mystic contact.\nHere, as so often in the comparative study of religion, we have to\nnote {51} the physical and material ideas of the more primitive period\nmaintaining themselves in the later but translated into a spiritual\nsignificance.\n\nThe relation between the priesthood and the State has been one of the\nburning questions of the secular and religious history of Europe. To\nunderstand fully all the features in the State organisation of the\nChurch and the many points of controversy, we need often to go far\nback into the records of early Aryan and Mediterranean society. We may\nmark here and there in the pagan Anatolian region the emergence of the\nidea that the priest should be temporal lord,[51.1] while in most\nearly Aryan societies the subordination of the spiritual to the\nsecular power appears to have been maintained. A study of the sagas of\nthe North suggests the reflection that the struggle fought out to a\ndefinite decision at the Reformation had already been decided in the\n{52} Teutonic North in the far-off days before Christianity;[52.1]\nalso that the secular character of the married English priesthood in\nour pre-Conquest period is only the reflex of old Teutonic custom.\n\nThe celibacy of the priesthood is, again, a question that has agitated\nand divided the churches, nor does it appear that we ourselves have\nfinished with it. To trace its origin and inner significance, a wide\nanthropological study is necessary, and I may be able to return to it\nin another association in a later lecture. Within the history of the\nChurch, we may trace back the religious ideas underlying the dogma of\ncelibacy to the ascetic enthusiasm of the third and fourth centuries,\nand we may be right in connecting it with the growth of Mariolatry.\nBut the original source of the phenomenon lies far in the background\nof our religion; the impulse to religious celibacy had long been\ncongenial to the temperament of {53} some of the Anatolian races. We\nfind it powerful in the Judaic sect of the Essenians; and in the\nanthropology of primitive societies we are often confronted with the\nidea that the virgin body is the only fit organ for the full divine\nafflatus.\n\nIn another question of administration, in the position of women in\nregard to the ministry, we can trace the opposing forces of differing\npre-Christian traditions.[53.1] Their present total exclusion from\nsacred functions in all but a few sects shows the triumph of the\nJudaic rule sanctioned and insisted upon by St Paul; it is not at all\nin accordance with Teutonic or Greco-Roman religious custom; and in\nfact we find in the early centuries of the Church, when Greek\ninfluence was strongest, that certain offices of the ministry could be\nfulfilled by women; we even hear of a heretic sect in the fifth\ncentury that signalised itself by the orgiastic processions of the\n\u201cpriestesses {54} of the Virgin Mary.\u201d[54.1] It is still possible\nthat the old Teutonic view in this matter may reassert itself.\n\nIf we try to give a complete account of any of the important\ninstitutions of the churches, infant baptism or the Roman confession\nfor instance, we ought at least, before we can pronounce that any\nparticular one is a spontaneous or a unique growth, to survey the\nreligions contiguous to or immediately preceding Christianity. As\nregards the practice of confession, a usage which, as I hope to show,\nmay be explained as connected with a ritual of purification, its\ninstitution cannot at least be regarded as a unique phenomenon in the\nearly Church. A very simple form of it appears to have been known to\nthe Judaic system, and it appears as a formal element in the\nBabylonian liturgy:[54.2] as a spiritual relief to which a man might\nvoluntarily resort, it was encouraged by the Delphic {55}\noracle;[55.1] as part of the cathartic ritual which was preliminary\nto initiation it was required by the ordinances of the Samothracian\nMysteries; and it is in an anecdote concerning these that we meet with\nthe first example of the free Protestant spirit reprobating the\npractice.[55.2] We may infer that it was uncongenial to the character\nand alien to the tradition of our Teutonic forefathers, in the record\nof whose pagan institutions there is no hint of it, and Alcuin\ncomplains of his Goths \u201cthat no one of the laity was willing to\nconfess to the priests.\u201d[55.3] It may well have been a spontaneous\ngrowth of southern Christianity; but it appears to have arisen first\nwithin the early monastic orders,[55.4] and {56} as these in their\norigin had certain affinities with the non-Christian mystic\nbrotherhoods, where the practice was not unknown, it is possible that\nin this matter also a pre-Christian tradition was still of some\neffect. Or, if this is unlikely, we must maintain that like conditions\nevolve similar products over the whole area with which comparative\nreligion deals; and the most striking resemblance to a Christian\nconfessional is to be observed in the old Mexican ritual, if we can\ntrust Sahagun.[56.1] As regards the other suggested example, we\nshould probably find, if we followed out the history and origin of\ninfant baptism, that the pre-Christian tradition was a strong\nefficient force in the settlement of the question; there were urgent\nreasons at least why the rite should soon have come to be maintained\nby the early Church, for analogous rites whereby the new-born child\nwas consecrated to the divinity were probably part of the hereditary\ntradition of most of the converted races. {57} We know that many of\nthe Hellenes had been in the habit of passing the infant solemnly\nround the fire, a purificatory and also consecrating process;[57.1]\nthe northern Teutons sprinkled the infant with water:[57.2] and when\nAristotle tells us that many of the barbarian tribes were in the habit\nof plunging the new-born into river-water, to harden the little ones,\nhe is mistaking a religious for a secular practice.[57.3] Looking at\nthe baptism of the adult neophyte, we find interesting resemblances to\nthe ceremonies of the pre-Christian mystic initiations; the idea\ncommonly expressed in these latter, that the catechumen died to his\nold life and was born again, was eagerly adopted and developed by the\nlater religion, and here as there left its imprint on the ritual:\ndeath and rebirth were actually simulated in the mystic\nservice.[57.4]\n\n{58}\n\nThe affinities between Christian and pagan ritual, in many cases no\ndoubt the result of direct inheritance, demand a more detailed\ninvestigation than they have yet received, especially in respect of\nthe festival calendar: even the early writers of the Church were of\nopinion that the feast of the Purification of the Virgin Mary in\nFebruary, was a development of the old Roman Februalia instituted by\nNuma;[58.1] and such names of Christian saints and bishops as\nHilarion, Hilarius, attest the popularity of the Hilaria, the festival\nof Adonis in the last days of paganism. Much might be still discovered\nby a minute knowledge of the Greco-Roman records, combined with travel\nin Mediterranean lands and with personal observation of the ritual of\nfeast- and fast-days in the remoter villages.[58.2]\n\n{59}\n\nFinally, there remains the question, of greater moment and perplexity\nthan all the preceding, concerning the affinities of the Christian and\npre-Christian religions in primary ideas and essential belief. To\npoint out resemblances is not necessarily to ignore contrasts; only it\nis of more avail for present science to emphasise the former, as the\nlatter are obvious enough and have always been emphasised. But we must\nguard against accepting too rashly the fact of resemblance for proof\nof actual origin; nor must we ignore the truth that two religions may\nbe vitally different in effect, while they use the same materials of\nthought and belief. The subject demands great knowledge and critical\ninsight, and I can only indicate here clues that have already been\nfollowed and might be followed further. There is probably no need to\ncall to your notice the fact that the incarnation of the Godhead in\nhuman form was a familiar conception to the civilised and\nhalf-civilised races of the old world, and was attached equally to\n{60} mythic personages as well as to actual men. That such a\npersonality could serve as a mediator between man and the Supreme God\nwas conceivable to the Hellenic, Egyptian, even the Latin imagination;\nand though the idea does not seem to have been woven into any fabric\nof faith by these races, it appears as a natural product in the higher\nstages of polytheism, and in many primitive and advanced societies it\nhas dominated men\u2019s views concerning the person and position of the\nKing.\n\nMore important still for the purposes of the religious comparison is\nthe wide prevalence in the Mediterranean communities of the belief in\nthe death and resurrection of the divinity: and this has been the\ntheme of much recent anthropological investigation.[60.1] This is not\n{61} the time to examine into its origin and significance or to track\nout the various phenomena that illustrate and group themselves around\nit in the Mediterranean cults. I would merely call attention in\npassing to the fact that the belief existed, and was probably\nexpressed in the pre-Christian ritual of St Paul\u2019s own city of\nTarsos,[61.1] and that it was especially strong in the Attis\nMysteries of the Great Mother of Phrygia and Crete; we know that these\nwere celebrated at a season which corresponded to the end of our\nLenten period and the beginning of Easter, that they were preceded by\nfasting and began with lamentations, {62} the votaries gathering in\nsorrow around the bier of the dead divinity; then followed the\nresurrection, and the risen god gave hope of salvation to the mystic\nbrotherhood, and the whole service closed with the feast of rejoicing,\nthe Hilaria.[62.1] The Christian fathers themselves were struck with\nthe deep resemblance between this and their own mystery, and they were\ntempted to attribute it to the diabolic spirit of parody. We may take\nthe words of Firmicus Maternus,[62.2] with which he concludes his\ndescription of such an Attis Mystery as I have outlined--\u201ctruly the\ndevil has Christians of his own\u201d--as the text of a very important\nchapter in comparative religion. We hear of a Christian convert in\nCrete being seduced by the fascinations of the Hilaria; and Phrygia,\nits ancestral home, was one of the earliest strongholds of\nChristianity. Here at least we may assume that the {63} ancient dogma\nand ritual of the people was one of the predisposing causes operating\nin favour of the new.\n\nThe comparative student must also give careful consideration to what\nare called the eschatologic doctrines, the beliefs concerning\nposthumous happiness, salvation, and damnation, not only of the\nJudaic, but also of the Hellenic, Anatolian, and Egyptian religions:\nand especially to those of the Hellenic, for it was they that were\nmost widely known in the area of the Greco-Roman world, and modern\ntheory has at times endeavoured to trace back the apocalyptic\nliterature of Christianity to Hellenic sources.[63.1] The\ninvestigation would demand a careful study of the Eleusinian and the\nOrphic Mysteries, in both of which we find the pregnant idea that\nsalvation after death depended {64} on a religious act of faith or on\na mystic communion with a divinity that might be attained on earth by\na sacrament or other liturgical means: and the inquiry will include\nthe question how far in these earlier systems the doctrine of\nsalvation by faith was actually blended with any admixture of the\nethical doctrine of salvation by works. And the problem, like many\nothers in the scientific study of religion, will be found to concern\nphilosophic as well as religious history.\n\nThe ideas attaching to sacrifice in the Mediterranean world have long\nbeen recognised as a vital subject of inquiry for the comparative\nscience; and both the lower and the higher anthropology can contribute\nmuch that is essential to the full understanding of the evolution of\nthe Christian doctrine concerning the divine sacrifice and the Holy\nCommunion. I need not here enlarge on this subject, even by way of\nmere illustration, for I have already dealt with it, however\ninadequately, {65} in a former paper:[65.1] it is an intricate and\nfascinating theme and invites further research.\n\nBut for proving the revival on the new Christian soil of the older\npre-Christian religious thought and aspiration, there is no special\nsubject so fruitful as the study of Mariolatry. I have already\nsuggested by way of illustration the possibility of such pagan titles\nas \u201cKore-Parthenos,\u201d the \u201cGods\u2019 mother,\u201d having exercised an abiding\ninfluence in exciting and shaping the nascent thought of earlier\nChristendom; and I affirmed that their prevalence corresponded to a\nprevailing religious bias which turned the minds of many of the\npeoples in the old world to cleave affectionately to the\nmother-goddess or to the divine maid. Apart from mere titles, the\nstudent of the latter days of paganism is forced to note at almost\nevery point the deep impress of such ideas and the enthusiasm they\nevoked. In all the leading Greek mysteries, the Mother and the Maid\n{66} held a dominant position, and the Orphic brotherhoods had ranged\nthe Mother by the side of the Son-God and the Father-God; and even in\nthe state-cults of the ancient centres of Hellenic civilisation, the\nmaternal character of the divine power had long been cherished.\nFinally, the Phrygian religion of the Mother, to which even Mithraism,\na pre-eminently masculine or paternal religion, was obliged to\naccommodate itself, had captured the greater part of the Greco-Roman\nworld; and was certainly very influential in the districts of Asia\nMinor visited by St Paul and in every one of the cities of the Seven\nChurches. The sentiment it evoked is expressed by the words of a poet\nof the Middle Attic comedy: \u201cFor those who have true knowledge of\nthings divine, there is nothing greater than the Mother; hence the\nfirst man who became civilised founded the shrine of the\nMother.\u201d[66.1] This then is a leading factor in the religious\npsychology of the converted nations with which we must reckon.\n\n{67}\n\nWe cannot, in accordance with the laws of human nature, suppose that a\nreligious tradition of such hereditary power as this could wholly lose\nits force under a changed creed. The gaps in the record will probably\nmake it impossible to supply a detailed and geographical statement\nshowing how in the various communities of the ancient cult the\npersonality of the pre-Christian goddess was fused gradually with the\nideal image of the Virgin-Mother of Christ. Only a few suggestive\nfacts in the development and organisation of Mariolatry may be\nmentioned here. The heretic Montanists of Phrygia were charged with\ndeifying the Virgin and believing that one of their leaders was united\nin a mystic marriage with her, a belief natural to Phrygian paganism;\nand their founder Montanus is said to have originally been a priest of\nCybele.[67.1] The mother of Constantine, the {68} Empress Helena, who\nis supposed to have been of Bithynian origin, was praised for decking\nthe grotto of Bethlehem with sacred gifts as the shrine of the\nVirgin;[68.1] it is noteworthy that her earliest recorded chapel\nshould be a grotto or cave; for it was in such underground shrines\nthat the Phrygian Mother was commonly worshipped in her own land.\nAnother striking analogy to the ancient ritual of the mother-goddess\nis presented by the feast called the \u03ba\u03bf\u03af\u03bc\u03b7\u03c3\u03b9\u03c2 and \u1f00\u03bd\u03ac\u03bb\u03b7\u03c8\u03b9\u03c2 \u03c4\u1fc6\u03c2\n\u03b8\u03b5\u03bf\u03c4\u03cc\u03ba\u03bf\u03c5, first mentioned by Andreas of Crete (_circ._ 650 A.D.), but\nprobably in existence long before his time: the Mother of God dies and\nrises again in the Assumption. It would be of special interest if we\ncould discover that this ritual first became canonical in Crete, the\nhome of Andreas; for in Crete as in Cyprus, where the Virgin succeeded\nto the name of Aphrodite, we have traces of a similar rite in which\nthe goddess Aphrodite was laid out {69} as dead on a bier and was\nafterwards raised to life.[69.1]\n\nAnd is it nothing more than a coincidence that in the same city of\nEphesus, where during St Paul\u2019s visit the fanatics raised a tumult in\nbehalf of their Virgin Artemis, some six centuries later the people\nwith equal ecstasy hailed the decision of the Synod that proclaimed\nthe Virgin-Mother of God (\u03b8\u03b5\u03bf\u03c4\u03cc\u03ba\u03bf\u03c2)? The mention of Ephesus suggests\nanother consideration of the greatest importance for the study of the\ndevelopment and propagation of the Christian dogma concerning the\nvirginity of the Mother of God. The Virgin-birth, an idea which has\nlong been a stumbling-block to science, and which has recently been\npronounced by some to be unessential to Christianity, was a dogma that\ncould easily be understood and even eagerly accepted by the converts\nof Anatolia[69.2] and the {70} Greek world. In Ephesus itself the\nancient goddess had been imagined in some sense as a maternal or\ngenerative divinity, yet also as a virgin, in whose ritual, conducted\npartly by a priesthood of monks, a strong rule of austerity and\nchastity was enforced.[70.1] The great Phrygian Mother was herself,\naccording to a native legend, miraculously conceived, and there are\ngrounds for suggesting that she was occasionally regarded as a\nvirgin.[70.2] The evidence indeed concerning such ideas in the\npre-Christian cults is always confused, casual, and often\ncontradictory, with no power apparently in themselves to develop a\nfixed dogma of faith. It would be in fact unreasonable to maintain\nthat the Christian doctrines concerning the Virgin-Mother could have\nbeen evoked merely by the spontaneous demand of the Anatolian or Greek\nconverts. But we may affirm that when that doctrine was {71} presented\nto them, their own traditions had prepared their imaginations to\nreceive it as congenial. We meet in the late pagan literature passages\nin praise of virginity as a divine quality quite as ecstatic and\nextravagant as many in the Christian fathers.[71.1] Many of the\nnations had long cherished the ideal of a virgin goddess; most had\nbeen devotees of the Divine Mother. The successful propagation of\nChristianity may have owed much to the means which it possessed for\nsatisfying these two sentiments and for reconciling them in a primary\narticle of faith. Then, we must certainly ascribe the exaltation of\nMary in the Church of the first six centuries to the enthusiasm\nengendered by the older goddess-worships. Alexandria may have\ncontributed much more than we have already noted; and more than one\nwriter has explored the deep indebtedness of the developed Mariolatry\nto the older figure of {72} Isis.[72.1] The extravagance of an\nenthusiasm that was rooted in old pagan sentiment occasionally\nengendered heresies. Besides the records concerning the Montanist, of\nwhich the significance has already been noticed, most interesting and\nvaluable for our purpose is the sermon of Epiphanius against the\nheresy of the Collideriani,[72.2] wild women who devoted themselves\nto the worship of Mary, and whose orgiastic service he describes and\nreprobates: in their processions they appear to have drawn the Virgin\nround in a car strewn with raiment, and they solemnised a sacrament\nwith bread: and he adds that they came from Thrace, the immemorial\nhome of fanatic women and of the goddess \u201cArtemis the Queen,\u201d to whom\nalso offerings of corn were made.[72.3] The procession of a goddess\nin a car was probably part of an old Thrako-Phrygian {73} ceremonial,\nand we hear of a sacramental eating of bread in the service of Cybele.\n\nWe may finally note that the enthusiastic literature devoted to the\npre-Christian Divine Mother and Maid and to the Virgin-Mother of God\nis the same in quality and tone. The prayer addressed to Isis in the\nstory of Apuleius reminds us of a Christian hymn of praise; and the\nolder liturgical or literary expressions would naturally colour the\nlater.[73.1]\n\nAnother question with which the comparative study of Christianity is\nconcerned touches the evolution of the Trinitarian idea.[73.2] Here\n{74} again it is necessary carefully to sift the phenomena of the\ncontiguous religions, to consider whether they present such a\nconception at all, and whether in any of them it had gained sufficient\nvividness and power to be likely to evoke a dogma of religious\nmetaphysic. Moreover, to understand the complete genesis of the\nChristian doctrine, we must trace out the idea of divine emanations in\nthe Mediterranean and the East; for the religions of the Iranian and\neven the Greek world present us with parallels to the process whereby\nthe Holy Spirit becomes in relation to the personal God a distinct\nthough closely attached personality. In the Zoroastrian ritual the\nFravashi or Soul of Ahura receives reverence,[74.1] and in Greek\nspeculation and even cult the \u03b8\u03b5\u03bf\u1fe6 \u03a0\u03c1\u03cc\u03bd\u03bf\u03b9\u03b1 or Divine Providence is\nsometimes regarded as an individual and {75} personal power;[75.1]\nnor is the conception of a plurality of beings within the limits of\nthe same personality unfamiliar to primitive thought. The subject is\none of the most intricate in the field of religious study, and the\nmore hopeful investigation of it would demand anthropological study in\nits widest sense, combined with a knowledge of the later Greek\nmetaphysic which has clearly left its impress on our doctrine.\n\nI will close these illustrations with the most obvious example of the\ncontribution of anthropological study to our knowledge of actual\nChristendom. One of the most fruitful offshoots of the older Hellenic\nsystem was hero-worship, which itself may have arisen as a development\nof ancestor-cult. At first confined to the mythic figures of the past,\nit came to be applied to founders of colonies, legislators, and even\nto athletes; in its final development in the last centuries before\nChrist it was chiefly consecrated to kings and dynasts, {76} the\nfounders of religious societies, men of science, and political\nbenefactors. The divine worship of the mortal, an idea abhorrent to\nJudaism, and not accepted by the severer Zoroastrian, was part of the\nstate system of earlier and later Egypt, and was finally imposed on\nthe Greco-Roman world. The soil in which it had most rankly flourished\nwas Greek, and Greece and Anatolia were crowded with chapels\nconsecrated to recently living men or to faded figures who were\nsupposed to have once lived on earth, some of them perhaps actual\nancestors, some imaginary personages of the epic or legendary world,\nsome merely functional divinities of subordinate departments, like the\nhero of the ploughshare or the tutelary hero of the potters. This\ngrowth of polytheism had struck its roots so deeply that Christianity,\nin spite of its monotheistic ideal, was unable to eradicate it. The\nancient hero may sometimes be lurking under the later disguise of the\nsaint: the medi\u00e6val guild, like the Attic fraternity of potters, {77}\nhad its sacred tutelary patron; and it is curious to observe that in\nthe matter of canonisation the Pope came to play exactly the same part\nas the Delphic oracle had played in the public consecration of the\nhero-cult: the divine authorisation is given or withheld by the vicar\nor agent of God. The importance of this inherited tradition in\ndetermining our religious estimate of historical Christendom is of the\nhighest: for whatever may have been or may be the orthodox dogma of\nthe Church concerning the status of the saint, such worship inevitably\nmeans polytheism from the point of view of the popular faith: and we\ngather that in many outlying communities of Christendom, as of the\nancient Greek world, the lower cult overshadows the higher. And this\nis one of the most salient and sure examples that we can quote of the\ndirect influence of the older religions upon the later. This special\ninfluence is mainly Greek, though the pagan North, the Celtic and\nLithuanian, and perhaps the {78} Teutonic peoples, have contributed\nmuch to the tradition of saint-worship.\n\nThe illustrations given may suffice as a sketch of the various\napplications of a comparative method to the problems that the\nphenomena of Christianity offer to the student. In the choice of\nillustration I may seem to have ignored the strength of the Judaic\nelement in determining the evolution; but I have considered it\nunnecessary to touch on this, as it has long been the familiar theme\nof scientific theology. I have also ventured to suggest that our own\nreligious history should be traced back to the period of our ancestral\npaganism. And I would strongly recommend to the student of comparative\nreligion in England a devoted attention to the world of the Norse\nSaga: for this has been strangely and fatally neglected by our English\nsystem of culture, with grievous loss to our poetic imagination, and\nto our knowledge of the early law and the religious institutions and\ntemperament of our ancestors. Such a work {79} as Golther\u2019s _Handbuch\nder germanischen Mythologie_ shows us what a harvest may be reaped in\nthat field for the science of religion. The subject in its own right\nclaims our interest, and certain phenomena in the old Teutonic\nreligion, its fatalistic ideas, its eschatologic beliefs concerning a\n\u201cday of judgment,\u201d demand consideration in the light of more advanced\ncreeds. On the other hand it may be wrong to attribute to it any\ndirect influence on the inner development of Northern Christianity;\nfor there may be reason for the view that, when the new religion\nconquered the Teutonic North, it found there in some sense a religious\nvacuum, the old ritual and faith having lost its vitality and hold;\nand certainly our ancestral paganism made no such struggle to survive\nas did the Greco-Roman. Nevertheless the history of its institutions\nmay be necessary, as has been suggested already, to explain the\nstruggle between Church and State in Teutonic lands; and, further, it\nis only the pages of the Norse Saga-book that can yield us {80} an\nanswer to the question whether we may not have inherited from remote\ntimes a certain average racial law of religious temperament resulting\nin a characteristic attitude towards matters of religion that may have\ndetermined our religious history. If the answer were affirmative and\ndefinite, the fact would have a practical no less than a speculative\nimportance. At least we shall not know ourselves completely in this or\nin other matters if we continue to think that Greece and Rome and\nPalestine are our sole intellectual and spiritual ancestors; in fact\nwe may say that no account of the history of Christianity in any\nEuropean State can be real and complete unless we can get back to the\npre-Christian past of that community.\n\nYet, while making full allowance for the influence of special\nancestral traditions, those who work on the lines which have been\nindicated in the illustrations of method which I have selected, will\nacquire the ever-growing conviction that Hellas has dominated the {81}\ncreed as she has dominated the intellectual history of Christendom;\nthat the new faith, in spite of its fierce or contemptuous intolerance\nof the past, was only able to transform but not to abolish the\nMediterranean tradition: that in fact Sir Henry Maine\u2019s often quoted\naphorism, while by no means wholly true, was truer in respect of\nreligious history than he himself was aware.\n\nI have been speaking hitherto mainly on the relations of anthropology\nto the comparative study of religion. And it may be well now to point\nout that anthropology, as I have tried to define and distinguish its\nfunctions, though an essential part, is only a part of the whole. For\nwe must know not only the past but the present conditions, not only\nthe embryology but the perfected growth. And, again, we compare\nreligions not merely to test theories of origin, ancestry, and\nindebtedness, but also to form the proper estimate of each one, and to\ncorrect the one-sided judgment that is always quick to pronounce this\nphenomenon {82} or feature in any particular system as unique. If the\ncomparison reveals more divergences than parallels, the result is no\nless important. And the comparative method should be applied not\nmerely to ritual, liturgy, hieratic institutions, legends, and dogmas,\nbut also to the varying phenomena and expressions of the religious\ntemperament in the various races. Only the study of the latter can\nenable us to test the living force of a faith, the degree with which\nit possesses the national mind; and such a study is only possible when\na nation has produced a rich religious literature or monuments of art\nembodying the public and private worship and religious sentiment. We\nknow what we have gained by the discovery of the sacred books of the\nEast, by the interpretation of the Babylonian inscriptions, and from\ntheir revelation to us in the Vedic, Iranian, and Mesopotamian\ncult-centres of a fervour as deep and passionate as any that we find\nin Hebraic or Christian writings. On the other hand, when a religion\nhas passed away, {83} as is the case with that of pre-Hellenic Rome,\nwithout leaving any articulate expression of its inner life, our\nknowledge of it can be superficial only, confined to mere ritual,\nfragments of liturgies, and the externals of cult.\n\nA dispassionate and uncontroversial study of that which is at least\none of the greatest forces in human society cannot but be interesting,\nand fruitful also for other branches of inquiry, such as the history\nof early law and morals, of which in many primitive communities the\nreligion is the only record. It may even solve certain problems\nconcerning the early migrations of races, as I have been convinced by\nthe investigation of various Greek cults. In England the trained\nworkers in this field are still unfortunately few, perhaps because a\ncertain latent prejudice, born of religious partisanship, is not yet\nextinct, and may act somewhat as a deterrent. I have avoided hitherto\nalluding to any of the practical and controversial considerations {84}\nwhich the methodical pursuit and propagation of this science may\nexcite, though I am well aware that its practical effects may be of\nhigh importance; but they are not immediately our concern at present.\nThere is, however, one such consideration that it is pertinent to\ntouch on before concluding the survey of the methods and functions of\nthis branch of historical inquiry, which deals much with origins and\nwith the evolution of higher forms of religion from the lower.\nDiscoveries of origins may appear to affect the validity of a creed or\ncertain articles of creed. That this is actually the case in regard to\nthe great problem with which the illustrations I have put before you\nare mainly concerned, namely, the genesis of Christianity, has been\nrecently frankly admitted by a leading dignitary of the Roman Church:\nwho, moved by a rumour of anthropological research, has promptly\nturned it to the profit of his cause by maintaining that the Roman\nritual and communion gains in force and validity by {85} the discovery\nthat it has inherited and absorbed the religious thought and practice\nof ancient Greece and Rome. On the other hand, others may find the\nexposition of the so-called pagan elements in the essence of\nChristianity repugnant to their sentiment; and hence are inclined to\naccept the dictum \u201cthat origin does not affect validity.\u201d I imagine\nthe facts of religious psychology make somewhat against this aphorism.\nBut it only concerns the science of comparative religion, because in\nthe history of creeds validity has been very often found to maintain\nitself mainly by an appeal to origin; and as our science, to\nreiterate, is much concerned with origins, it is indirectly concerned\nwith those claims of validity that support themselves by such an\nappeal.\n\nAnother cause of the paucity of workers in this field is the\ncomplexity and difficulty of the subject, which can be handled\nsuccessfully only by the advanced and mature student. The\npre-requisites of competence are an {86} exact philological as well as\nan arch\u00e6ological training, with a view to the proper appreciation\nboth of texts and monuments; secondly, a general acquaintance with the\nproblems and history of philosophy, and especially of ethics, and with\nthe history of early social institutions and law; thirdly, a\ncomprehensive study of anthropology. To this must be added a\nsympathetic and minute knowledge of at least two of the great\nworld-religions, whereby alone a critical insight into the essential\nand significant phenomena of the religious experiences of our race can\nbe obtained. The comparative science of religion has now become\npossible, thanks partly to the labours of philological specialists in\nthe ancient languages of Europe and Asia, and partly to the\norganisation of anthropological travel.\n\nLet me conclude with remarking that subdivision of labour is\nimperative in this field: and it is especially in Oxford that the\nopportunities for the requisite preliminary {87} training are\nplentiful. It would be a gain for more than science if we could see a\ngroup of mature students organised here exploring the various\ndepartments of this complex subject in co-operation and with mutual\nassistance.\n\n\n\n\n LECTURE III.\n THE RITUAL OF PURIFICATION AND THE CONCEPTION OF PURITY: THEIR\n INFLUENCE ON RELIGION, MORALITY, AND SOCIAL CUSTOM\n\n{88}\n\nAmong all the varied religious acts of man, there is probably none\nthat has been so widely prevalent throughout the different races of\nmankind as the ritual of purification, nor does any idea seem to have\npossessed so strong a legislative power in the various departments of\nour life as the concept of purity. We can trace it back to instincts\nthat we appear to share with the higher animals, and we can track it\nupwards through the complex rites of the higher religions. The record\npresents us with a vast mass of phenomena which, as far as I am able\nto discover, have not yet been reduced to system or unified by any\nconstructive {89} theory of evolution. In this lecture I venture to\nattempt the systematisation of the subject, first giving a brief\nsummary of the main facts which are well known to the students of\nprimitive anthropology and comparative religion and which confront us\nin nearly all the societies that have been explored.\n\nIn the stage of our conscious life which we may call, relatively to\nman\u2019s growth, primeval, certain bodily acts and states and certain\nmaterial substances are regarded as unclean and impure, likely to\nimprint a stain upon the person. It is impossible here to attempt to\nenumerate all the examples, and it is enough to mention a few that are\nsalient and typical. The generative processes of life, the states and\nactivities of the male and especially the female organism connected\nwith them, the bodily changes incident on puberty, are among the most\nfamiliar phenomena with which the idea of impurity in some peculiar\nsense has been universally associated. A chief centre or {90} \u201cnidus\u201d\nof impurity is child-birth; but still more dangerously impure is its\ncounterpart, death and all the phenomena of death. In respect of\nchild-birth the idea is fading away from our civilised consciousness;\nbut it has left a deep deposit in our conscious or subconscious self\nin regard to death. The material substance that has been most\ngenerally felt to be impure is blood; the curious feeling that the\nmere mention of the word often excites in certain modern people is a\nfaint reflex of the savage mental state in respect to the thing; and\nthe influence of this disposition upon advanced society raises the\nmost interesting question in which comparative law, ethics, and\nreligion are jointly concerned, and which will be considered later. To\ncontinue our enumeration we may not find that the objects of the\ninanimate world outside ourselves are usually regarded by primitive\nthought as in themselves impure, but all or most of them are capable\nof catching the infection from ourselves, from death or child-birth\n{91} for instance: hence it may be necessary to break or destroy or\npurify the utensils and furniture of the house where a death or a\nbirth has occurred. At a somewhat more advanced stage, certain\nfood-stuffs come to rank as impure, and a complicated code of \u201ctapu\u201d\nis established for specially sanctified persons. Then we are\nconfronted, but not apparently in the most primitive period, with the\ndistinction between pure and impure animals, which also dictates\ncertain rules and practices of diet.\n\nOn the other hand certain natural things may come to be regarded as\nspecially \u201cpure,\u201d whether on the ground of a certain intrinsic\nquality, because for instance they are bright and lustrous, or from\nthe fact that they were habitually used for cathartic or cleansing\nprocesses, as fire, water, odorous wood or spices, or substances which\nemitted a pungent odour such as sulphur. Such objects \u201care used in\nritual,\u201d says Jamblichus,[91.1] {92} \u201cbecause they are specially full\nof the divine nature.\u201d But the psychic phenomena and the corresponding\nacts with which we are dealing may be well suspected of descending\nfrom an age at which no definite concept of a divine nature had as yet\narisen, an age not yet perhaps even animistic, for in their crudest\nform they do not seem necessarily to imply any articulate system of\nbelief in a world of ghosts and spirits. And this reflection brings us\nto the first question of importance, what this primitive concept of\npurity and impurity really is, and what were the sensations from which\nit was evolved. Nothing is more difficult to describe than simple\nsensations, but it is possible to distinguish one from another. And we\nmust distinguish between the modern feeling about cleanliness and the\nprimitive feelings which we are considering. That \u201ccleanliness is next\nto godliness\u201d is an aphorism suggested no doubt by sensations\nfundamentally akin to these; but many a savage who is most particular\nabout \u201cimpurity\u201d {93} cares little or nothing for what we call\n\u201ccleanliness.\u201d We consider that the cleansing acts we ourselves\nperform are purely hygienic or pleasure-giving, partly connected with\nthe instinct of self-preservation, and some of them we find performed\nby other animals than man.\n\nBut the savage ritual of purification does not by any means tend\nnecessarily to self-preservation, but at times may lead to\nself-destruction, and no hygienic or utilitarian or secular\nconsiderations will carry us far in explaining the cathartic code of\nLeviticus or the Zend-Avesta, or Buddhism, or the impurity of tabooed\nanimals. These codes, while some of their prescriptions may be such as\nmodern utilitarian ideas might dictate, are obviously instinct with\nreligious or superstitious beliefs, and to explain the distinction\nbetween the pure and the impure animals would need a long excursus\ninto primitive religion; the distinction is certainly not one between\nwholesome and unwholesome, or pleasant and unpleasant, meat.\n\n{94}\n\nWe may probably discover the nature of the instinct underlying much of\nthe cathartic custom-law by taking as our typical example the savage\nfeeling about blood. Evidence from almost every society in the world\nyields proof that the stain of blood is the primary impurity that\nneeds a purifying ritual: hence arose a body of rules that were a\nburden upon domestic life, hence the elaborate purifications of\nwarriors after battle or of the individual homicide. Such rules in no\nway remind us of the natural desire to take a bath at the end of a\nwarm field-day: the savage purifications after battle may last for\nweeks; it is recorded that a North American Indian tribe was\nextirpated because it needed a month to wipe off the stain of a single\nconflict, while their enemies needed only a week for that purpose and\ntherefore had the advantage of three weeks\u2019 start in preparing for the\nnext attack. The sense-instinct that suggests all this is probably\nsome primeval terror or aversion evoked by certain objects, as we see\nanimals {95} shrink with disgust at the sight or smell of blood. The\nnerves of savage man are strangely excited by certain stimuli of\ntouch, smell, taste, sight: the specially exciting object is something\nthat we should call \u201cmysterious,\u201d \u201cweird,\u201d or, still more\nexpressively, \u201cuncanny.\u201d To the primitive mind nothing was more\nuncanny than blood, and there are people still who faint at the sight\nof it: for \u201cthe blood is the life,\u201d life and death are the great\nprimeval mysteries, and all the physical substances that are\nassociated with the inner principle of either partake of this\nmysteriousness. For the savage, what is mysterious is also dangerous\nand not to be lightly handled or approached. Now, the man who incurs\nsuch stain not merely is exposed to some unaccountable danger himself,\nbut he is able to infect others by contagion; he spreads a sort of\nmiasma, he is the conducting vehicle of a dangerous spiritual\nelectricity--mere metaphors, which, however, may enable us to catch\nsomething of the primitive thought. Such a {96} man therefore must\navoid communion with his fellows for a time, must be \u201ctabooed\u201d; and\nwill naturally endeavour to remove the \u201ctapu\u201d or dangerous \u201cmiasma\u201d by\nsome magic rites of cleansing or release. The kinsmen of the recently\ndead in all primitive societies are impure, because they have come\ninto contact with death, the chief source of all impurity; therefore\nthey must be isolated, and, until they are purified, must wear some\nbadge or external mark--which we call \u201cmourning\u201d--to warn others\nagainst approaching them. The \u201ctapu\u201d still remains in civilised\ncommunities; we abstain from intruding on the bereaved family, though\nwe give a different motive for our keeping aloof. It so often happens\nthat in such matters we act as the savage acts; but we must abandon\nfor a time our normal way of looking at things in order to imagine\nhis. To us a corpse may be an object of aversion, and it is in some\ndegree contagious; but our view of it, when we are cool, is secular\nand scientific: while the primitive aspect of it is {97} supranormal\nand mystic, and the contagion is something spiritual and incalculably\ndangerous. In the Zend-Avesta we find an interesting special\napplication of this idea: the defiling power of the dead varies\ndirectly according to the sanctity or rank of the deceased; thus it is\ngreatest in the corpse of the priest, somewhat less in that of a\nwarrior, and least in that of the husbandman:[97.1] _corruptio optimi\npessima_: the most sacred person can defile the most, because he is\ncharged with the most mysterious and therefore dangerous potency. The\nLatin term \u201csacer\u201d has the double meaning of \u201choly\u201d and \u201caccursed\u201d:\nfrom the same Greek root, \u03b1\u03b3, spring a word connoting holiness and a\nword meaning \u201cpollution.\u201d Primeval thought or feeling holds together\nin a vague unity ideas that afterwards differentiate themselves and\neven become antithetical. The same power of radiating dangerous\ninfluence, supposed {98} to attach to the holy man, the polluted man\nand the polluting thing, brought them originally under the same dim\nconception.\n\nIt would not repay us here to endeavour to trace out and explain all\nthe minuti\u00e6 of this superstition: the long lists of pure and impure\nthings that one might compile do not disclose any single regulative\nidea, and nothing is more baffling than the eccentricities of\nprejudice and terror. But this superstition often proceeds with a\nlogic of its own: as a corpse is most unclean, and all who touch it\nare impure, therefore dogs and wolves and carrion birds are impure and\nmust not be eaten: and anything that however distantly reminds us of\ndanger and death, such as quarrelsome acts and words, may come to be\nrigidly prohibited during a ritual of purification. As blood is\nprimevally impure, therefore any substance analogous to it or of the\nsame colour might be regarded as ill-omened, such as beans or\npomegranates. The same kind of sensational aversion will cause\nmalodorous substances to {99} be regarded usually as unclean;\ntherefore food of an evil savour, or such as leaves unpleasant traces\nin the person, will often be tabooed by certain strict sects.[99.1]\nThere is also a certain common-sense discoverable in the distinction\nbetween substances on the ground of their greater or less\nsusceptibility to spiritual contagion: earthen pots, for instance,\nhave been often considered more easily infected than metal, and need\nlonger purification, liquid substances more dangerous conductors than\ndry. \u201cShould the dry mingle with the dry,\u201d says Ahura Mazda in a\nconversation with Zarathustra, \u201chow soon all this material earth of\nmine would be only one Pesh\u00f4tanu,\u201d which is as much as to say that\nthe earth would become a charnel-house of impurity. And\nDarmesteter[99.2] remarks, in commenting on this verse, \u201cNowadays in\nPersia, the Jews are {100} not allowed to go out of their house on a\nrainy day, lest the religious impurity conducted through the rain\nshould pass from the Jew to the Mussalman.\u201d We have here a view of\ncontagion that seems to agree with that of modern science, only the\nlatter is physical, the former mystic or spiritual. Again, the choice\nof substances used for purification was not dictated by the modern\nidea of a cleansing quality, but by a certain superstitious logic\nwhich we can sometimes detect. If liquid substances have a natural\naffinity for contagion, then if we take them while they are uninfected\nand use them for lustration, they will easily absorb the impurities of\nour own persons and rid us of them; therefore the modern savage or the\nancient Greek might think it desirable to daub himself with clay or\nmud to wash away his taint: and from this example we see how distinct\nthese primeval lustral processes are from the modern hygienic washing,\nto which nevertheless they often bear a close resemblance. By a\nsimilar reasoning we {101} may explain an inconsistency that\noccasionally appears in the cathartic ritual; a substance impure as\nfood might be used for purposes of lustration: for instance, we find\ngarlic used as a cathartic in the worship of the Phrygian god M\u00ean at\nAthens.[101.1] Fire, the universal purifier, may have been accredited\nwith this power by right of its own nature, but partly in all\nprobability because it was believed to dry up miasma and damp\ninfection.[101.2]\n\nIn the Zend-Avesta code, after drying for a whole year under the light\nof the sun, the corpse at last becomes pure; for by the same natural\ninstinct that caused the aversion to blood, the sun\u2019s light comes to\nbe regarded as the purest thing in the world: meat cooked by its\nwarmth is more sanctified than fire-cooked meat; and certain acts and\nstates of man have a greater defilement in the sun\u2019s face.\n\nSo far I have been trying to present the {102} phenomena without\nreference to any definite religious belief, to express them as far as\npossible in terms of simple sensation; for, as was said at the\nbeginning of the discussion, it is possible that they have descended\nfrom a pre-religious age. We may now ask how the baneful influence of\nthe impure thing in this primeval stage of thought was supposed to\nwork, unassisted by any spiritual agency such as spirit or god. We may\nsuppose that it produced its results indirectly by depressing the\nvital energies of the man who was the victim of the superstition: the\nsavage might believe that it worked directly, by some mysterious law\nof luck, paralysing a man\u2019s force and spoiling his hunting and\nfighting. This idea of a spontaneous mesmeric power of evil that\ncertain things possess seems to glimmer through the verse in the\nZend-Avesta. \u201cHere am I,\u201d says an unlucky man to those whom he meets,\n\u201cone who has touched the corpse of a man and who is powerless in mind,\npowerless in tongue, {103} powerless in hand; do make me\nclean.\u201d[103.1] Is it an illusion to believe that we have here\npenetrated to the psychological root of the whole matter? And here\nthere is no direct reference to spirit or god.\n\nBut at an early period such reference was made, and it was then that\nthis cathartic ritual really started on a momentous career. When the\ndoctrine of animism became firmly established, it attracted the ritual\nand the ideas associated with it, and the animistic imprint upon them\ncan still be traced even in the higher religions. A dangerous spirit\nwas supposed to abide in the impure thing and to be evoked by the\nunclean act; the potency which in the primeval stage of feeling had\nbeen perhaps regarded merely as something mysteriously baneful and\n\u201cuncanny,\u201d now becomes personal and intelligible and can be dealt with\nand exorcised by certain efficacious rules. The stain of blood on the\nhomicide attracts the ghost of the slain to pursue him, certain foods\n{104} are impure because evil spirits attach to them, disease is\nspecially their work, and a veritable pandemonium gathers around the\ncorpse, the woman in child-birth, and the new-born child.\nIllustrations showing how this demoniac faith has pervaded the thought\nof the world are broadcast in the records of primitive man as well as\nin the higher literature of our race, the Vedic and Iranian sacred\nbooks, the New Testament, the Pythagorean, Platonic, and Neoplatonic\ntexts. In the view of the Zend-Avesta, which regards the whole\nuniverse as an overcharged battery of spiritual electricity, a single\ncareless act of accidental uncleanliness is a cosmic catastrophe:\nlegions of \u201cdrugs\u201d or devils start up at once into existence to\ndestroy the world of righteousness.[104.1] Plato, though on the whole\nhe preserves his sanity in the matter, is under the dominion of\nsimilar ideas, and Neoplatonism reverts back to the savage view,\nbelieving that the chief aim of \u1f01\u03b3\u03bd\u03b5\u03af\u03b1\u03b9, or purifications, was to\n{105} drive the evil spirits out of certain kinds of food.[105.1]\n\nThe deep animistic colouring that the conception we are analysing came\nat a very early time to acquire may be responsible for a very\nimportant event in the history of religion: the evolution, namely, of\nthe dualistic principle, the idea of the antagonism between good and\nevil spirits, the germ of which we can already detect in the animistic\nstage which may have preceded the faith in high personal gods. If the\nimpure things and acts are impregnated with evil spirits, it is\nnatural to suppose that the pure are the abode of the good, and these\nare contrary the one to the other. It may have required a very long\nperiod for a clear belief in the good spirit to crystallise; for to\nthe very primitive mind all spirits are mysteriously dangerous, even\nthe ghosts of one\u2019s dearest kinsmen. Still, the ancestral spirits make\non the whole for righteousness, and can be given the position of\nguardians of {106} the purification code. Thus the New Caledonians\navert the wrath of the ghosts of their ancestors by washing, fasting,\nand chastity:[106.1] the ancient Greek might pray or sacrifice to\na vague animistic company of \u03b8\u03b5\u03bf\u1f76 \u1f08\u03c0\u03bf\u03c4\u03c1\u03cc\u03c0\u03b1\u03b9\u03bf\u03b9 or \u039c\u03b5\u03b9\u03bb\u03af\u03c7\u03b9\u03bf\u03b9, regarded\nperhaps as ghosts of the lower world, to avert the impure omen or to\nwash off the taint of blood.\n\nFinally, the conception of purity comes under the dominion of the\nhigher faith in a personal god. In Greece, Apollo and Zeus attach to\nthemselves the ritual and the associated ideas; in Persia the whole\ncomplex code of purity is established by Ahura Mazda; in Israel by\nJahv\u00e9, who enforces the minutest details of the law with insistence\non the purity of God.[106.2] In Babylonian as in Vedic religion, the\nfire-god is pre-eminently the purifier, a name which is attached\nparticularly to Agni, and we find in the Babylonian liturgical texts\nthe {107} prayer,[107.1] \u201cMay the torch of the shining fire-god\ncleanse me.\u201d Nor does Buddhism appear to differ from Leviticus or the\nZend-Avesta in respect of the complications of its cathartic rules and\nthe importance it attached to them. The Buddhist missionary, I-Tsing,\nexhorts the faithful to observe the elaborate prescriptions of the\nBuddha, \u201cbecause,\u201d as he naively puts it, \u201cgods and spirits get\ndisgusted with our ways of wearing garments and eating food.\u201d With\nthis abundance of testimony before us, we are all the more surprised\nto find that very little is forthcoming from the records of our own\nancestral paganism. We can scarcely believe that our Teutonic\nancestors were destitute of the idea of lustration, and that their\ncleanliness and chastity, attested by the Roman writers and still more\nclearly by their own sagas, were virtues of purely secular origin. And\nin fact we have certain records of Teutonic ritual that seem to point\nto cathartic ideas: \u201cAfter the goddess Nerthus had gone on her annual\n{108} procession round the villages,\u201d as Tacitus informs us,[108.1]\n\u201cher chariot and garments and her own person were solemnly washed in\nthe waters of a sacred lake, as if the holy divinity had been polluted\nby her intercourse with men.\u201d It is also possible that the custom\nstill prevalent in the Teutonic populations of Europe, of leaping over\nthe bonfire on midsummer\u2019s eve, is the relic of a ceremony of\nfire-lustration performed before the beginning of harvest.[108.2]\nDoubtless also they had the same rules as those prevailing in nearly\nall communities, whether civilised or uncivilised, concerning the\npurity of temples; for we have record of an Icelandic law that the\n\u201cHoly Place of Peace\u201d was not to be defiled by blood or any human\nuncleanness.[108.3] Still, though other evidence pointing in the same\ndirection might be gathered, it seems clear that the burden of the\ncathartic ritual did not weigh heavily on the consciences of our\nfathers when the dawn {109} of their history begins. I am not aware of\nany indication, for instance, that they regarded formal lustration\nafter bloodshed to be obligatory or desirable. And their comparative\nfreedom in regard to such ceremonies is a fact of great importance\nwith which we must reckon in our estimate of our later spiritual\nhistory. We may at the same time believe, on general grounds, that\nthey also had at some remoter epoch passed through a period of bondage\nto the same ideas and the same formalities that we find so generally\nprevalent in other kindred and alien races.\n\nThe more interesting side of the inquiry now presents itself, the\nquestion about the influence that these cathartic ideas may have\nexercised upon religion, morality, and law. We may endeavour, for the\nsake of systematisation, to maintain this tripartite classification,\nalthough we find it becoming more and more illusory the further our\ninvestigation travels back to the earlier social life of man.\n\nBut before attempting to survey the special {110} facts that present\nthemselves within these three departments, it is well to note one\nphenomenon that concerns religion and morality in equal measure, and\nis of perhaps greater importance than all others in the varied process\nof the evolution of the cathartic idea. We have mainly been dealing so\nfar with facts that seem to belong to the most primitive deposit of\nhuman consciousness and not properly to be ethical in the modern sense\nat all: the stain of blood, even incurred by ruthless murder, the\nstain of childbirth and the sexual processes, the contagion of the\ncorpse, are all for the same reason \u201csuspect\u201d to primitive man because\nthey involve vague and mysterious danger, not because they are\nassociated with the concept of sin. Nor does this latter concept\nnecessarily enter in, even when a more articulate animism has taken\npossession of the superstition, and the impurity means the presence of\nan evil spirit: the leper, the man who has come into contact with the\ndead, {111} the blood-stained murderer, are all regarded as suffering\nfrom the same trouble, though in greater or lesser degree. The idea of\npurity and impurity, in fact, whether corporeal and external or\nwhether spiritual in the sense of its association with the world of\nspirits, is still non-ethical, and we must not apply our moral\nstandards to it until a later stage. It arrives at this stage and at\nits higher significance for morality when it has evolved the\nconception of a pure heart, a pure soul. And that this latter, which\nis one of the most pregnant of the concepts of developed ethics, was\nactually evolved from the primitive ritualistic and demoniac\nsuperstition can, I believe, be proved by the evidence, and accords\nwith a well-known psychologic law of early thought.\n\nWe deceive ourselves if we are content to say that terms such as \u201cpure\nheart,\u201d \u201cpure soul\u201d are mere metaphors. The theory of metaphors is a\nrefuge for those who do not understand, or who do not wish to\nunderstand, {112} religious history, and much might be said of the\nfar-reaching effects of this fallacy of interpretation. The soul was\nnot called \u201c\u03c8\u03c5\u03c7\u03ae\u201d or \u201canimus\u201d or \u201cspiritus\u201d by mere metaphor: nor was\nthe phrase \u201cwhite liver\u201d a metaphor for the people who first applied\nit to the coward. Primitive man may be the victim of false analogy and\nassociation of ideas, but these mental processes mean for him\nsomething other than metaphor means for us. It is not by way of\nmetaphor that the modern Basuto speaks of his heart \u201cbeing black and\ndirty,\u201d that is, \u201cimpure\u201d or \u201csad,\u201d the same word being used for\ncorporeal impurity, sadness, and sin.[112.1] The colour of the impure\nact or bodily state is, so to speak, transferred inwards: if the act\ninvolves a physical stain, then, as things, {113} words, and thoughts\nare so closely correlated in early psychology, the term \u201cunclean\nword,\u201d \u201cunclean thought\u201d expresses a literal belief: gradually, as the\nconcept of mind and soul becomes more and more immaterial, we may\nreach the spiritual concept of mental purity which is of value for\nmodern ethics. The example quoted above reveals the Basuto at the\nhalf-way point in this evolution: and a certain North-American Indian\ntribe, whose customs have been recorded by Miss Alice Fletcher,\nappears to have reached the same mental stage; in her paper called the\n\u201cShadow of a Ghost Lodge,\u201d[113.1] she mentions that the kinsmen who\nsit together isolated from others and mourning the dead for a period\nmust rigidly abstain from any tales of fighting or \u201cbad words,\u201d they\nmust forget old injuries and cancel all grudges. The mental process\nthat leads to this excellent _tapu_ may be stated thus: the mourners\nare in a condition of deep impurity which they are endeavouring {114}\nto cleanse away; quarrelling, vindictive speech, and memories would\nintensify the impurity, because all these are associated with\nbloodshed and death. This analogy may serve to explain the curious\nrule prevailing at Athens that anyone who laid a suppliant-bough on\nthe altar in the Eleusinion during the period of the Eleusinian\nMysteries was liable to the penalty of death or a heavy fine.[114.1]\nI would suggest that the underlying thought is the same: the laying\nthe suppliant-bough indicated a grievance and was a legally\nquarrelsome act, and therefore a violation of the purity of the solemn\nseason. It was probably a similar chain of reasoning that induced the\nGreeks and other races of the higher religion to enforce silence\nbefore and during the sacrifice, not merely in order that the priest\nshould not be disturbed by the chatter of the crowd; for the word used\nfor this sacred silence is \u03b5\u1f50\u03c6\u03b7\u03bc\u03af\u03b1, \u201causpicious speech\u201d: it is\nobvious that the original motive of the rule {115} was to guard\nagainst the utterance of any impure word that might produce an\nill-omened condition of mind in the congregation.\n\nOf this development of the idea of spiritual from that of ritualistic\npurity, the language of certain of the higher races affords the same\nindication as we find in the Basuto phrase: the Latin \u201cpurus\u201d and the\nGreek \u03ba\u03b1\u03b8\u03b1\u03c1\u03cc\u03c2 and \u03c6\u03bf\u1fd6\u03b2\u03bf\u03c2 themselves have an original material or\nphysical significance; the blood that is shed and the unburied corpse\nemit a \u201cmiasma,\u201d a defiling atmosphere charged with dangerous spirits,\nand the same word \u03bc\u03af\u03b1\u03c3\u03bc\u03b1 comes to denote a spiritual corruption of the\nsoul: touching a corpse is called \u201csin\u201d in the Zend-Avesta;[115.1]\nand it is significant that the same word which is used to express the\nmaterial idea of impurity in the Old Testament in the earlier books of\nthe Law is employed in the later and more advanced ethical vocabulary\nof the Bible for a real sin against God as understood in the modern\nsense.\n\n{116}\n\nAgain, we have other evidence besides the linguistic that the earliest\nconception of sin which we can call spiritual was still\nhalf-materialistic, and was still closely allied to that of bodily\nimpurity. In the theory of earlier ritual, the sin can be washed away\nlike a physical taint, the atonement takes the form of certain\nlustrations, and repentance is not considered necessary as a moral\ncondition of release. And to the same middle stage of development\nbelongs the process known as the transference of sin, whereby the sin\ncan be extracted as if it were a substance from the person of the\nsinner and transferred into another man or animal or even an inanimate\nobject. Think of sin as an inner vapour or exhalation and the idea of\nquasi-mechanical transference is intelligible.[116.1] It no doubt\nbelongs to a comparatively early {117} period of savage religion.\nAmong the Atkans, for instance,[117.1] we hear of such a release as\nthis: the sin, which in this case was a gross violation of a natural\nlaw of the sex-instinct, was made to enter into certain weeds which\nwere worn about the person, and then, under a clear sun were carefully\nthrown away, the sun himself being called to witness the act of\ntransference. In the ancient Peruvian Church, the shaking off of evils\nwas a great public festival: bands of warriors marched forth crying\nout, \u201cGo forth, all evils,\u201d and then bathed in the river, while the\npeople shook out their clothes from the doors.[117.2] A similar\nrecord speaks of the Inca praying to the river-god to bear away his\nsins, which he had confessed in the sight of the sun. And during the\nPeruvian purification a similar rule prevailed to that which was\nnoticed above, that all abusive language and strife was to be avoided.\nOr again, the {118} belief that the sin is an evil spirit that can be\ninduced to find another living-lodgment, suggests the scapegoat, a\nfamiliar figure in Leviticus and in Greek ritual, the animal who bears\naway with it into the wilderness the sins of the people, or is put to\ndeath with the uttered prayer that into it may enter all the evils of\nthe community. The Judaic record tells us that Aaron \u201cconfessed over\nhim all the iniquities of the children of Israel\u2026 putting them on the\nhead of the goat\u201d; after this, as the animal was in a high degree of\nsin-infection, both Aaron and the man who led it away into the\nwilderness must wash and change their clothes.[118.1] The Egyptian\nrite described by Herodotus,[118.2] shows us the same idea\ndifferently worked out: the head of the animal is severed with the\nimprecation that it may bear the evils of the community, and is then\neither thrown into the river so that the stream may carry them away,\nor is sold to the Hellenes wherever there happens to be a Hellenic\nmarket: Herodotus {119} does not tell us the reason of this, which,\nhowever, is easily divined: the Hellene is the stranger who, as the\nEgyptians hoped, might eat the infected flesh and thereby absorb into\nhis alien person the people\u2019s sins; for the eating of other people\u2019s\nsins is a recognised primitive process of transference.[119.1] What\nis unique in the Egyptian management of the ceremony is the skilful\ncombination of religion and trade.\n\nFinally, the ritual may demand a human scapegoat, who will fulfil\nexactly the same function as the animal. He may be put to death, or\ndriven over the border, carrying away the national sins: he may be\nvery vile, and therefore a fitting receptacle for sin, like the\n\u201c\u03ba\u03ac\u03b8\u03b1\u03c1\u03bc\u03b1,\u201d the \u201cpurifying man\u201d in the Attic festival of the Thargelia,\nwho was led through the streets, whipped with rods, and at one time\nburnt; or the slave at Marseilles,[119.2] who was fed up and\nreverentially treated for {120} a year, and then was led forth in\nsolemn procession through the streets and expelled from the city,\npraying that on him might fall all the evils of the community:[120.1]\nor the scapegoat-man may be exceptionally holy, being the better able,\nthrough his very holiness, to absorb harmlessly and dissipate the\nevils of others. Thus even the miserable victim of the Thargelia was\nmysteriously invested with a certain sacred character, and seems once\nto have been regarded in a certain degree as the counterpart of the\ndivinity.[120.2]\n\nMuch of this ritual of sin-transference is altogether independent of\nthe higher gods; it is worked by mesmeric or mimetic or mechanical\nmagic. At a later period it is harmonised with their service and\naccompanied with prayer; and at this stage we note a curious\nritualistic phenomenon. Blood, the primeval source of impurity,\nbecomes itself {121} a purifier, not by the law _similia similibus\ncurantur_, but owing to the growing power of the sacrificial concept.\n\u201cThe blood of bulls and goats can wash away sins,\u201d because the animal\nthat has been consecrated by contact with the altar becomes charged\nwith a divine potency, and its sacred blood, poured over the impure\nman, absorbs and disperses his impurity. Illustrations are easily\ngathered from Hellenic ritual,[121.1] which frequently employed the\nblood of swine for cathartic purposes. On an early vase-painting we\nsee the hero Theseus seated on the altar of God the Atoner with pig\u2019s\nblood running down his body to cleanse him from the slaughter of the\nbrigands.[121.2] In the Judaic rule the blood of the red heifer was\n{122} first sprinkled by the priest before the tabernacle of the\ncongregation seven times, but for special purposes of lustration the\n\u201cwater of separation\u201d was used, that is, water made holy by being\nmingled with the ashes of the heifer that had been burnt. We have a\ncurious illustration of the double character of this water of\nseparation: being consecrated and holy, it was powerful to cleanse\naway stain and sin: yet its own impure composition was not wholly\nforgotten, for he who sprinkled the water or touched it was unclean\ntill evening.[122.1]\n\nThese ideas belong to very old-world thought, yet their reflex abides\nwith us still in the heart of a spiritual creed; for their association\nis clear with the Christian conception of the transference of sin and\nof the divine victim that takes upon himself the sins of the people.\n\nAs far as we have examined it as yet, the concept of a \u201cpure heart\u201d is\nnot necessarily wholly ethical; it is often coexistent with the ideas\nof sin that do not clearly recognise {123} moral responsibility or the\nessential difference between deliberate wrong-doing and the\nritualistic or accidental or involuntary sin. In the middle stage of\nethical-religious growth, an innocent \u0152dipus may yet be regarded as\n\u03c0\u1fb6\u03c2 \u1f04\u03bd\u03b1\u03b3\u03bd\u03bf\u03c2, impure body and soul. The final point is reached when it\nis realised that the blood of bulls and goats cannot wash away sin,\nthat nothing external can defile the heart or soul, but only evil\nthoughts and evil will. This purged and idealised concept will then in\nthe progressive religions revolt against its own parentage, and will\nprompt the eternal antagonism of the prophet against the ritual\npriest, of the Christ against the Pharisee.\n\nIt would be interesting to trace the points of this long development,\nwhich has here been hastily sketched, among the higher races of the\nold world; but a brief and partial indication of its history among\nsome of them must here suffice. We are all acquainted with the final\nevolution of the idea of purity in {124} Judaic history: but the\nphenomena of its embryonic stages, as revealed in the ritual books of\nthe Old Testament, may not be so familiar. They present the Hebrew\nmind in regard to this particular as on the same level with the\nZarathustrian Persian, the Vedic Indian, and the Hellene of the\nseventh century. Purity is the strictest law of Jahv\u00e9, the pure god,\nwho intimates that he would punish Aaron with death if he heedlessly\nentered the holy place without purification.[124.1] But the processes\nby which it is secured are mechanical, quasi-magical, and the concept\nitself appears more materialistic than spiritual, ritualistic rather\nthan ethical in our sense: the processes of cleansing are such as the\nuse of incense, lustrations with blood, water, and even fire,\ncathartic methods which are almost universal: we hear nothing of\nprayer or repentance. Blood is the chief impurity, whether shed\ndeliberately, accidentally, or righteously. The warriors after battle\nmust be purified {125} before they enter the camp.[125.1] Murder has\nindeed become a tribal offence, and this marks a great advance in the\nsocial development of human society: no satisfaction such as the\nwere-gilt was allowed for murder; but it is regarded as a sin rather\nthan a crime, and its sinfulness is the uncleanness of the land on\nwhich the blood is shed. \u201cBlood defileth the land,\u201d and \u201cI the Lord\ndwell among the children of Israel.\u201d[125.2] Even the accidental\nhomicide must fly to the city of refuge, not merely to escape the\navenger of blood, who represents the old family right of the\nblood-feud, but to rid the land of the impurity of his presence. Nor\nmust he return till the death of the high priest.[125.3] This latter\nrestriction has not yet been explained, so far as I am aware. I\nventure the explanation that the high priest is regarded here as the\ntemporary representative of Jahv\u00e9, and as infected with the impurity\nthat cleaves to the outraged god; but when {126} he dies, the stain\nthat has been put upon the god fades away and his wrath ceases.\nFinally, we may note the rule that when the murderer could not be\ndiscovered, the nearest city must offer cathartic sacrifices, \u201cand thy\nsin\u201d--that is, the ritualistic sin of having an impure spot of ground\nin one\u2019s territory--\u201cshall then be forgiven thee.\u201d[126.1] In fact the\nJudaic law concerning homicide as shown in these books, though it has\nadvanced far beyond savagery, and has even attained to the modern view\nthat manslaying concerns the whole community, is yet barbaric on the\nwhole. The concept of purity aided development up to a certain point\nand then probably retarded it. On the other hand, in the department of\nsexual morality its operation was most powerful for good; it\nconsecrated and safeguarded the fundamental laws if it did not\nactually construct or evoke them; but, as we should expect, the sexual\npurity of the Hebrew code remains a religious law and does not pass\ninto the domain of secular ethic.\n\n{127}\n\nAnother religion that is of equal value for our present purpose is the\nZarathustrian. Trusting as far as we may the translation and\ninterpretation of its sacred books, we may gather the impression from\nthe study of them that no religion on the earth has ever been under\nsuch bondage to the cathartic ideal as this one; nor does it appear\nvery profitable at first sight to put the question here of the\ninfluence of the idea of purity on religion, law, and morals, for the\nidea seems all-absorbing and these three to have no independent\nexistence apart from it. It creates for the Mazdean believer a\nmorality of its own, with which the secular systems have little or\nnothing to do. \u201cOh, maker of the world,\u201d asks Zarathustra of Ahura\nMazda, \u201ccan he be clean again who has eaten of the carcase of a dog or\nthe corpse of a man?\u201d The deity answers--\u201cHe cannot, oh holy\nZarathustra.\u201d[127.1] Nor is there any purification possible for the\nunforgivable sin of walking about after fifteen years of age were\n{128} reached without a girdle or a proper shirt: \u201csuch a one goes\nhenceforth with power to destroy the world of righteousness.\u201d[128.1]\nOn the other hand, the highest act of righteousness which brings\nforgiveness of all sins to him who performs it is the pulling down of\na dakhma, the scaffold on which the corpses were hung according to the\nPersian system of burial, after it had served its purpose; for\nnaturally it was a focus of impurity, and demons congregated there in\nswarms.[128.2] And the Persian concept of purity makes its own law.\nAs the ritual of cleansing is the prime article of the Zarathustrian\ncode, so the sacrilegious cleanser, that is, the amateur who tried to\npurify another without knowledge of the Mazdean ceremonies, brought\nsterility upon the land and was punished with death.[128.3] And death\nwas the penalty for him who dared to carry a corpse alone, for the\ndead body spread around the contagion of a myriad \u201cdrugs\u201d or demons,\n{129} and two men at least must set hand to it to prevent an\nintolerable epidemic of impurity.[129.1] Legislation in the\nZend-Avesta is merciless beyond any recorded code; we must suppose\nthat it was mainly idle thunder, or Persia would have been\ndepopulated. The whole universe of Mazdeism is permeated with these\ncathartic ideas, and a secular or physical view of things scarcely\nglimmers through: the ritual order dominated what we call the material\nas well as the spiritual world; the sun, moon, and stars are purified\nby the Word. On this basis arose a religion of great exaltation and a\nreligious fervour of rare intensity: and the sacred books of Persia\nare of great value for the present inquiry, for they show us more\nclearly than any other record the spiritual concept of the pure heart\nemerging from the ritualistic idea; while it is often hard in any\nparticular text to distinguish between the lower and the higher\nsignificance. When God speaks to the prophet thus--\u201cPurity {130} is\nfor man, next to life, the highest good: that purity, O Zarathustra,\nthat is in the religion of Mazda for him who cleanses himself with\ngood thoughts, words, and deeds,\u201d[130.1] we believe we have reached a\nhigh ethical conception; but the phrase is supposed by Darmesteter to\nrefer to him who cleanses himself according to the prescriptions of\nthe law. Yet in their cathartic code were the germs of an advanced\nmorality, and truthfulness and chastity were fostered by it.[130.2]\nThe lustrations were partly of the primitive type, taken over, as\nusual, from a lower stratum of religion; their most interesting\nfeatures are the cleansing words that accompanied them, which were not\nusually prayers but spells, formul\u00e6 of magic potency, but drawn from\na high {131} religion, such as these, for instance:--\u201cThe will of the\nLord is the Law of Righteousness\u201d; \u201cHoliness is the best of all Good:\nit is also Happiness.\u201d[131.1] Even the virtue of philanthropy is\ngiven cathartic value in a spell-formula, \u201che who relieves the poor\nmakes Ahura King,\u201d recited before the person was washed with the holy\nwater of Mazda and the \u201cg\u00f4m\u00eaz\u201d of an ox.[131.2]\n\nIn a certain sense the Mazdean religion has been the \u201cpurest\u201d the\nworld has known; but the high spiritual concept of purity that it\nevolved never escaped nor struggled to escape, as did the Judaic and\nHellenic, from the bondage to ritual. Therefore the religion was\ndoomed to ceremoniousness and sacerdotalism; and the modern student\nwho is fascinated with its frequent outbursts of genius and its deep,\nwhole-hearted conviction must be prepared for the inevitable bathos\nthat awaits him. Its remoteness from the modern and civilised view of\nthings may be estimated from {132} the Zarathustrian text, in which\nthe prophet exalts the priestly medicine-man who heals the diseased\nlimb with a cleansing spell and by the ejection of the demon, above\nthe surgeon who heals it with a knife.[132.1]\n\nIt is with a feeling of relief that we now turn to the survey of the\nHellenic phenomena, passing by as we must the Vedic and the Islamic,\nwhich appear to be of lesser importance so far as I have been able to\nstudy them. The Hellenic religion more than all others of the ancient\nworld is the mirror of the manifold civilisation of a people; for its\nlesser intensity allowed it more varied application, and it was\nobliged to reconcile itself speedily with the utilitarian and secular\nforces of rational progress, which there was no sacerdotal caste\nstrong enough to oppose. And it is in the light of this religion\ntherefore that the concept of purity can best be studied in its\nrelations to law and morality. The history of the cathartic ritual in\nGreece {133} does not begin till the eighth century; for the Homeric\nage was strikingly sane, cheerful, and secular in its views about such\nthings. Though Hektor feels, as any modern gentleman would feel, that\nit was wrong to go to a religious service \u201cbedabbled in gore and\nfilth,\u201d though Odysseus purifies his house with sulphur-fumigation\nafter the carnage of the fight, the world for whom Homer sang does not\nappear to have been burdened with the ceremoniousness of purification\nor with dread of the impurity of blood and death, or with any sort of\ncare for the vengeance or miasma of the ghost. An age that could rise\nto the height of such a sentiment as \u201cbest of omens is it to fight for\none\u2019s country,\u201d was likely to be healthy-minded in all such matters.\nThe first mention of purification for bloodshed is in a poem of\nArctinos of the eighth century; and a certain ritual-code of purity\nbegins to emerge in Hesiod. Henceforward cathartic legislation comes\nto be very rife in Greece, emanating chiefly from two centres as it\n{134} seems, Delphi and Crete. The gods to whom the domain of\nritual-purity belongs especially are Apollo, Zeus, and Dionysos; at\nthe same time the ghostly terrors of the underworld appear to be\ngaining a greater hold on the Hellenic imagination, and \u201ccatharsis\u201d is\nspecially needed to deal with these. Probably all this is only a\nrevival of aboriginal practices and superstitions rooted in the\nHellenic soil, a religion which the intellectualism of Homeric\ncivilisation had happily suppressed for a time, but which asserted\nitself with renewed strength when that civilisation was overthrown.\nYet the revival, though apparently a \u201cset-back,\u201d bore fair fruit for\nmorality, law, and even religion. The history of Greek ethic must\nreckon as it has not yet done with the ritual of purity, and the\nhistory of Greek law with the fear of the ghost and the miasma of\nbloodshed.\n\nAt first the idea is, as usual, ritualistic and non-moral: and much\nthat we find in savage communities, and in Jud\u00e6a, Persia, and India,\nwe find again in Greece. As the Hebrew {135} warriors were purified\nbefore returning to camp, so the Macedonian army was purified in\nspring before the campaign,[135.1] and the misunderstood story of the\nPhokians daubing themselves with gypsum before battle points to a\ncathartic ritual.[135.2] And the Hellenic ceremonies agreed with\nthose of most other nations in regard to the causes of uncleanness and\nthe methods of deliverance: fire, water, blood, onions, the skins of\nanimals sacrificed, even clay and bran, are the usual purifying media.\nIn one method of \u03ba\u03ac\u03b8\u03b1\u03c1\u03c3\u03b9\u03c2 only the Hellenic ritual is unique so far as\nI know: sacrificial communion with God was sometimes considered an\neffective means of obliterating the impurity which the kinsmen\ncontracted by a death in the family: at Argos the mourners put off the\n\u201ctapu\u201d by eating of the sacrifice to Apollo, believing that the spirit\nof the pure god in the sacred food could destroy {136} the miasma\nwithin and around them.[136.1] The strongholds of Pharisaic\npurification were the religious brotherhoods of Orphism and the\nearlier Pythagoreanism, a religious-philosophic school closely\nassociated with the former; in these the law of \u201cthe pure life\u201d is a\nceremonious law, specially concerned with abstinence from certain\nfood. But Greek thought did not remain long on this level: a saying is\nattributed to Charondas of Catana, but perhaps of later origin, which\nasserts that \u201cfoul speech is a defilement of the soul\u201d;[136.2] and in\na fragment of Epicharmos of the fifth century, we have the utterance\nof the higher gospel, \u201cIf thou art pure of soul, thou art pure of all\nthy body\u201d; and the later Pythagorean literature, such as the \u201cGolden\nSong\u201d of Hierocles, contains the doctrine that \u201cpurity of soul is the\nonly divine service\u201d; \u201cGod has no more familiar abode on the earth\nthan the pure soul.\u201d And to an unknown writer, probably of the same\n{137} school,[137.1] we owe the dogma, \u201cWe worship God most meetly if\nwe render our own soul pure from every stain of evil.\u201d There are two\nepigrams in the Anthology, included in the fanciful collection of\nPythian oracles, expressing the same idea that holiness is a spiritual\nfact independent of ceremonies or lustrations: \u201cOh stranger, if holy\nof soul, enter the shrine of the holy God, having but touched the\nlustral water: lustration is an easy matter for the good, but all\nocean with its streams cannot cleanse the evil man.\u201d[137.2] The other\nmaintains as clearly as Isaiah or the New Testament the uselessness of\nall mere washing of hands: \u201cThe temples of the gods are open to all\ngood men, nor is there any need of purification: no stain can ever\ncleave to virtue. But depart, whosoever is baneful at heart, for thy\nsoul will never be washed by the cleansing of the body.\u201d[137.3] The\nbetter Greek mind attained this freedom the more easily in that it was\nnot strongly {138} or generally possessed with the belief in the\naboriginal impurity or sinfulness of the flesh and the earthly life.\nAnd Greek ritual itself, conservative as it was and never abandoning\nits code of purification, comes at last to be influenced by this freer\natmosphere and to reconcile ceremonious purity with a higher moral\nlaw. Before the temple of Asclepios at Epidauros stood the text,\n\u201cWithin the incense-filled sanctuary one must be pure; and purity is\nto have righteous thoughts.\u201d[138.1] An inscription on a temple in\nRhodes of the time of Hadrian[138.2] shows a strange blend of\nprimitive and advanced thought. Its preamble mentions \u201crules\nconcerning righteous entrance into the shrine.\u201d \u201cThe first and\ngreatest rule is to be pure and unblemished in hand and heart and to\nbe free from an evil conscience.\u201d Then follows the usual ceremonious\ncode of rules concerning the impurities of food, {139} funerals, and\nnatural affections of the body: and the last clause shows the ethical\nidea penetrating even these, for the code prescribes that a person may\nenter the shrine \u201con the same day after lawful married intercourse.\u201d\nThis means that the adulteress was excluded, as she was at Athens by a\nlaw quoted by Demosthenes.[139.1] It appears then that the liberal\nethic judgment attributed to Theano, the female Pythagorean teacher,\nthat while lawful intercourse was no bar to participating in a\nreligious service on the same day, the adulteress was to be for ever\nexcluded,[139.2] was not wholly out of accordance with the advanced\nritualistic code of Greece.\n\nThe above is some slight illustration of the development of the Greek\nconcept of purity and of its ethical influence. It remains to trace\nits action in a very important department of law--the law of homicide.\nPerhaps the most significant distinction between the code of a\ncivilised and that of a savage or {140} barbaric community lies in\ntheir respective attitudes towards manslaughter or murder: in the\nlatter society it is mainly an affair between the families concerned,\nto be settled by the were-gilt or the blood-feud: in the former the\nwhole community feels itself to be deeply concerned. Our Teutonic\nancestors, at the time of Tacitus and for centuries after, remained at\nthe lower stage, though we discern that the legal genius of the\nIcelanders was impelling them towards the higher even before\nChristianity reached them. What is strange is that some societies\nappear to have attained a high general level of civilisation without\nmaking this momentous advance: the Homeric world, for instance, was\nscarcely abreast with the early Icelandic in this respect, although we\nmay see signs that the higher idea was ready to emerge in the later\nHomeric period.[140.1] Then follows a blank in {141} our record which\nmay be tentatively filled up by the interpretation of mythology, until\nin the developed Attic law--which we know better than the law of any\nother Greek state--we find the modern idea fully recognised and\napplied to a criminal code, probably from the sixth century onward,\nthough traces of legal barbarism still survive. We would gladly\ndiscover the constructive forces, spiritual or political, that brought\nthis great reform about. The anthropology of our contemporary savage\nsocieties has not yet supplied us with analogies that we could apply\nto Greek history: a few savage states have indeed spontaneously\nachieved the great advance from the blood-feud to a public law of\nhomicide, but there is no record showing how they have achieved it.\nSome writers have supposed that the emergence of criminal law in\ngeneral is always due to some great increase of power in the central\ngovernment, probably to the development of the monarchy. But as a\nuniversal axiom this cannot be accepted; for, as {142} Steinmetz in\nhis treatise on \u201cThe Development of Punishment\u201d[142.1] has shown,\nsuch a suggested cause is not found operative in the backward\ncommunities of modern times that have developed a public criminal law.\nNor would it be reasonable to urge that the central authority was\nstronger in Greece of the seventh century than in the earlier\nmonarchical period. Probably Steinmetz is right in his belief that\namong savage societies the earliest criminal law arises from some\nintense feeling of hatred or dread excited by acts that violate\nreligious feeling or secular interests. One of the earliest crimes to\nbe punished by death at the hands of the society is incest: the horror\nthat it excites among savages is a feeling that we may call religious.\nWe may not be able to show indeed that the primitive ideas of purity\nwould explain the earliest complicated codes of human marriage: but\nthe circles of kinship that are thus established seem certainly to\nhave been consecrated {143} at a very early time by the concept of\npurity that came to be attached to them.[143.1] Now it is probable\nthat a similar religious feeling was operative in the case of\nhomicide.\n\nIf in any given society the primitive belief in the impurity of\nbloodshed became intensified beyond a certain point, homicide might\neasily come to be regarded no longer as a matter to be settled by the\nfamilies of the slayer and the slain, but as the deep concern of the\npeople of the land. We have seen that it was just this religious\nconcept of impurity that brought the act under the cognisance of the\nnational religious law of Israel: the people are terrified because the\nsoil has been made impure and their god has been stained. In the\nZend-Avesta we find that {144} the slaying of a water-dog was an\nimpure act against God, and was avenged by the whole community; and\nsacrifice was offered to appease the holy soul of the dog.[144.1]\nThese facts then offer some analogy for the theory that I would\nsuggest, namely, that the civilised law in Greece concerning homicide\narose in the post-Homeric period through an intensification of the\nfeeling concerning the impurity of bloodshed and owing to the greater\nhold that the terrors of the ghostly world had come to gain over the\nlater Hellenic imagination; for the ghost or the Erinys of the dead is\nthe embodiment of the miasma that arises from the slaying; and the\nghost knows how to drive it home, and is no respecter of persons, but\ncan make a whole area uninhabitable. The religious phenomenon and the\nlegal fact that I would connect as cause and effect are not found in\nthe Homeric period: both are found coexisting in the later. And much\nlegendary evidence accords with this hypothesis. {145} Perhaps the\nearliest indication of the emergence of the idea in Greek society that\ncertain kinds of homicide concern the State, is found in the legends\nabout exile and excommunication for the shedding of kindred blood, the\nexile, for instance, of Bellerophon and Ixion. Such exile is not the\nordinary flight of the homicide to avoid the avenger of blood; for in\nthe cases where a man is of the same kin as the slain, there is no\nfamily avenger, but the whole community in horror cast him out lest\nthe curse should infect themselves. Kinsmen\u2019s blood was more sacred\nthan other, therefore the shedding it spread the greater impurity over\nthe land. And the Greek legends suggest that this offence was one of\nthe earliest in the legal history of the race which awoke the\nreligious conscience of the State.[145.1] {146} Now if we assume that\nthe old ideas associated with kinship came to be extended to the whole\ncommunity of the polis--as might easily happen through the\nintermarriage of the \u03b3\u03ad\u03bd\u03b7--then a similar miasma would be caused\nby the slaying of a citizen as by kindred murder: the State would feel\nthe supernatural peril of the act and would take cognisance.\n\nThe reasons for supposing that this was the actual order in the\nHellenic evolution of the homicide law may appear to rest on mere\nlegends, but legends are often direct and firsthand evidence of early\nthought, and the stories about the slayers of kindred who were driven\nout of the communities and who were the first applicants for the\nritual of purification, such as Ixion, Orestes, Theseus, accord well\nwith the early belief that the Erinyes were the ghostly avengers of\nkindred slaughter. Then we find that in the Aithiopis, the poem of\nArctinos of Miletus, Achilles has to leave the army and retire to\nLesbos for {147} purification, although Thersites, whom he has slain,\nis no real kinsman of his: whence we may draw the conclusion that the\nState of Miletus, in the eighth century, had come to take cognisance\nof the slaying of any citizen. And the Argives, in the fifth or fourth\ncentury, offer atonement to Zeus Meilichios for a civic massacre, the\ngod who has a legendary association with purification for the shedding\nof kindred blood. By the fifth century in Athens the religious feeling\nconcerning the sacredness of all life within the city had so deepened\nthat even the slaying of a slave caused a miasma and was a State\noffence.[147.1]\n\nNow when we examine certain details of Attic law, together with\ncertain expressions of sentiment concerning homicide in the classical\nwriters of Attica, we see the clear imprint of its origin. Accidental\nhomicide was as gravely regarded by the Athens of the fourth century\nas by the old Hebrew code: such homicides must fly over the border,\nbut if they went by {148} a certain road, the State refused to allow\nthe avenger of blood to follow them: they must remain in exile until\nthey have won the forgiveness of one of the kinsmen of the\ndead.[148.1] We may suppose that the kinsmen are regarded as taking\nup the feud of the ghost, who is likely to be vindictive, even when\nthe slaying was accidental. Finally, when the pardoned homicide\nreturns he must go through elaborate purifications. These latter were\nto wipe off the miasma, not to ease what we might call the burden of\nconscience. And the community were obliged to expel temporarily even a\nperfectly innocent man, because of their fear of the wrath of the\ndead. This dread of the ghost is appealed to by an Attic orator as a\nmotive that should influence the judges to condemn the\nprisoner.[148.2] The first legal preliminary in a case of murder,\nwhich reveals clearly the religious origin of the State law, was the\nsolemn proclamation, made by one of the relatives holding {149} a\nspear at the funeral, that the murderer should keep aloof from all the\nholy and public places of the community.[149.1] And Antiphon strongly\nexpresses the popular sentiment that the unpunished murderer pollutes\nthe public altars and vitiates the atmosphere of the city:[149.2] and\nthe whole of Plato\u2019s legislation[149.3] concerning homicide is based\non the idea of the miasma arising from bloodshed, and is quite in\naccord with Attic law. The exile of the murderer purges the city as\nwell as his execution; therefore the accused was allowed to go out of\nthe country before the verdict.[149.4] The contagion was worse under\na roof than in the open air; therefore the Athenian judges insisted on\ntrying homicide in an unroofed court, \u201clest they should be under one\nroof with the slayer.\u201d[149.5] Also it is part of primitive animistic\nbelief that such miasma could cleave to things which had caused the\ndeath of a man: hence the {150} inanimate object such as an axe or bar\nof iron might be solemnly tried and, if found guilty, would be thrown\ninto the sea to rid the State of infection:[150.1] the same\nsuperstition explains the old English law that a waggon which ran over\na man and caused his death should be given to God--\u201cdeodand\u201d: that is,\nit was to become a perquisite of the King, who represented God.\n\nSo far we seem to discern clearly the concept of purity evolving State\nlaw in a very vital matter. And this is a great achievement. But it\nmight easily evolve law which from our point of view would be unjust\nand superstitious. The terrors of the ghost, the inequitable wrath of\na pure god, the insistence on the ritualistic view of impurity, might\nretard progress and prevent the evolution of the highest law which\nregards extenuating circumstances and admits justifiable homicide.\nSuch law is not heard of in the Mosaic books, but it {151} existed in\nthe Attic code,[151.1] which specially on this account may be called\ncivilised. The court which tried admitted cases of homicide where the\nplea of justification was raised was the Delphinion, and its\nfoundation legend claimed that it was instituted to try Theseus for\nslaying the Pallantids who attacked him, and that the plea of\njustifiable homicide was allowed.[151.2] The name of the court shows\nthat its patron is the pure god, and points to Crete and Delphi, the\nchief centres of the ritual of purification. Now it is quite possible\nthat this momentous advance in law may have been prompted by the\nhealthy rationalism of the early Greek mind, to some extent by secular\nutilitarian thought, which reacted on the religious view of purity. We\nshall then say that the religion adapted itself dexterously to a\nsecular movement, as it usually did in Greece. Or it may {152} be the\ntruth that the advance was due to a spontaneous movement within the\nreligion itself, beginning perhaps in the seventh century, and to the\ngrowing consciousness that the purity or impurity of an act depended\non motive and will. If this idea penetrated at an early time, as it\ncertainly did at a later, into the sacerdotal circle, then the priest\nof Apollo might grant or withhold purification according to the degree\nof justification the homicide might prove:[152.1] in this case a\ncourt would be established at the instigation of the purifying god to\nconsider the circumstances. This explanation must remain a hypothesis,\nbut it is one that assumes the action of real forces.\n\nEnough has been said to illustrate the intimate association of the\nidea of purity with legal progress,[152.2] and it only remains to\nindicate {153} very briefly its impress and effect on religious\ninstitutions. One of the methods most frequently employed to attain\nmental purity or freedom from the evil spirit is fasting; from all\nhuman societies, primitive and advanced, we could gather a copious\nstock of illustration. And mankind has, on the whole, agreed as to the\noccasions at which the ritual is desirable; in spring before the crops\nand the first-fruits appear, before the warriors go forth to battle,\nbefore any kind of intimate communion with God, when the family is in\nmourning for a kinsman and evil influences are abroad, fasting has\nbeen practised as a mode of purging the body and safeguarding it\nagainst spiritual harm or preparing it for the privilege of divine\nintercourse. It has been held necessary before any mystic\ninitiation,[154.1] {154} the early Christian Church prescribing it\nfor the days preceding the Easter communion; also before the\nindividual can attain the divine afflatus of prophecy or the\nsupernatural potency for expelling evil spirits or working\nwonder-cures. \u201cSuch kind goeth not forth save by prayer and fasting.\u201d\nThe psychological basis of the ritual is the belief that certain\nfoods, and finally all food, are liable to engender evil influences in\nthe body; and, moreover, the experience that the abstinence generates\na peculiar mental condition of exaltation, ecstasy, and supra-normal\nself-confidence: other ideas, such as the discipline of self-denial,\nthat come to gather round the practice are of later growth.\n\nFrom the same primitive view of the relations between our body and the\nspiritual world has arisen the enforcement of celibacy upon the\npriesthood. To trace the phenomenon, {155} which is commonly or\nexceptionally found in all human societies, throughout the history of\nthe churches, would require a separate chapter. It is not a late\ngrowth in religion, nor of necessity a sign of high development. And\nhere again the original psychological motive is not a spirit of\nself-mortification, but the belief that the chaste body is the purer\nabode for the Divine Spirit, and the mental experience that such\nself-abnegation usually engenders a stronger consciousness of\nreligious power. There are signs that the idea is losing its hold on\nthe modern consciousness, but we see the deep impress it has made upon\nsome of the ideas and dogmas of our religion. The institution of a\nsacerdotal rule of celibacy corresponds to the view prevalent in any\ngiven society of the priestly function; it is likely to be enforced\nwhen the priest is invested with a specially prophetic and mystic\ncharacter, and is required to mediate between the society and God by\nmeans of frequent communion with the {156} divinity: it is rare when\nthe civic and semi-secular view of the sacerdotal office prevails,\nrare therefore among the Northern Aryans and in the pre-Christian\nGreek and Roman states, although the Hellenic ritual generally\nrequired virginity, or at least a prolonged chastity, in the\nprophetess and occasionally in the ordinary priest. It was common in\nthe ecstatic religions of Anatolia, and in the worship of Cybele was\npushed to an unnatural extreme. It is interesting again to trace the\nassociation between the Phrygian-Christian heresy of Montanism and the\nolder Phrygian paganism; and we have noted that Montanus, its founder,\nthe champion of celibacy, is reported to have been in his unconverted\ndays a priest of Cybele.\n\nAgain, the baptismal rite is a form of purification of world-wide\nprevalence, as has been already intimated. The washing of the new-born\nhas been generally interpreted as a purgation of dangerous and evil\ninfluence among the lower as well as the higher races. An interesting\nform of such lustration is {157} recorded of the old Aztec home-life:\nthe midwife washed the infant with the prayer, \u201cMay this water purify\nand whiten thy heart: may it wash away all that is evil.\u201d[157.1] The\nadult, before initiation into any mystic society, usually needed\nelaborate purification; and this often took the form of baptism with\nwater and occasionally with blood: and in certain of the Mediterranean\nreligions the lustration was not merely regarded as a washing away of\nthe old sin, but as a spiritual rebirth.[157.2] In the Isis rites the\nbaptism with water was supposed to raise the mortal to the divinity:\nin the description of the baptismal purification of Setis I. the words\noccur: \u201cI have purified thee with life and power, so as to make thee\nyoung, like thy father Ra.\u201d And the gods themselves were believed to\nbe reborn through the sprinkling of lustral water over their\nimages.[157.3] We discover the same theories held by the {158} early\nChurch concerning the Christian rite: the font washes away the taint\nof the flesh, while at the same time the divine potency of the water\nrevivifies and recreates the catechumen, who dies to the old life and\nis born again; so that the font, which itself was exorcised and\npurified in the early period, was in some sense the womb of spiritual\nlife, and the rite is both an exorcism and a communion. Very soon in\nthe history of the Church it came to be regarded as of such serious\nand critical significance that the catechumen must prepare himself for\nit by prior purifications and exorcisms: such ceremonies as the\nbreathing on his forehead by the priest, the sacramental partaking of\nthe salt, the anointing with oil, together with the utterance of a\nprayer that \u201cthe enemy might be put to flight,\u201d have an obvious\ncathartic significance.[158.1]\n\nWe must also regard confession as a kind of purification; for the\n\u201cspeaking out\u201d of {159} sin would be regarded as a real purgation and\ndeliverance at that period of thought when words might be viewed as\nthings, or at least as controlling things. This was its meaning in the\npreliminary ritual of the Samothracian Mysteries, in the Mexican\nreligion[159.1] where it was associated with purification and the\nconcept of rebirth, and finally in the early Christian Church, where\nit was specially imposed upon the priest before the Easter communion\nas part of the purificatory preparation.[159.2] An interesting\nformula of confession is found among the Babylonian liturgical\ntablets: the penitent prays to the god and the goddess--\u201cLet the seven\nwinds carry away my sighs\u2026 let the bird bear my wickedness to the\nheavens: let the fish carry off my misery, let the river sweep it\naway. Let the beast of the field take it from me. Let the waters of\nthe river wash me clean.\u201d Here the purificatory confessional {160}\nworks partly by prayer to the high god, partly by the old idea of the\nmagic transference of sin into an alien substance.[160.1]\n\nThese are examples of practices in the advanced religions aiming at\nthe purging of internal and spiritual sin. But the older and more\nmaterialistic view of impurity as a physical taint or as the miasma of\nan evil spirit, has not wholly faded even from historic Christianity:\nthe ceremony of the churching of women, though transformed into a\nthanksgiving service, has descended from an old cathartic ritual that\npurged away the dangerous pollution of child-birth: and the\nconsecration of churches was originally merely a special application\nof the old-world practice of purifying the house against demons, as we\nmay see from the legendary example given in the apocryphal \u201cActs of St\nThomas.\u201d[160.2]\n\n{161}\n\nThe facts which I have collected and exposed, incomplete as the\nstatement is, may justify what was said at the outset of the inquiry,\nthat the aboriginal idea of purity has struck deep roots in the soil\non which much of our ethical thought and feeling, many of our legal\nand religious institutions, have grown and developed. The concept,\nowing perhaps to its immemorial continuity of life and deep primeval\ninstinctiveness, if the word may pass, is liable to fantastic\nexaggerations. It has sometimes proved itself an insurmountable\nbarrier to moral and legal progress. When it has crystallised into a\nhard \u201cpharisaic\u201d form, it has arrested and imprisoned the life of a\nhitherto progressive people. On the other hand, though its innate\nquality, so to speak, is never secular-utilitarian, its contributions\nto our civilisation have been, as we have seen, of inestimable\nservice. It has engendered the modern horror of murder {162} and\nbloodshed, and the ideal of the chaste life: we owe to it in great\ndegree the delicate sensitiveness of spiritually gifted characters.\nFor good and for evil, it has been an instinctive religious force more\npotent than any other of these in the mental evolution of man.\n\n\n\n\n LECTURE IV.\n THE EVOLUTION OF PRAYER FROM LOWER TO HIGHER FORMS\n\n{163}\n\nThere is no part of the religious service of mankind that so clearly\nreveals the various views of the divine nature held by the different\nraces at the different stages of their development as the formul\u00e6 of\nprayer, or reflects so vividly the material and psychologic history of\nman. The historic material at our disposal is unfortunately modern,\nnot reaching back, that is to say, to a period earlier than some four\nthousand years before Christ; but this can be supplemented, as usually\nhappens, by the evidence gathered from the lower societies, as well as\nby the observation of practices that frequently accompany and are very\nclosely blended with prayer even in the higher religions, {164} and\nthat we may with confidence believe to have descended from an\nimmemorial antiquity. The question as to the origin of prayer is one\nof great difficulty and of the deepest significance for the history\nand philosophy of religion; for it inevitably involves the questions\nconcerning the origin of the belief in a personal divinity, concerning\nthe relation of magic to religion, of the spell-ritual which commands\nor constrains to a prayer-ritual of humiliation and entreaty. Even if\nI had an original and matured judgment to put before you on questions\nof such importance, a single lecture would be a very inadequate space\nfor its exposition.[164.1] Therefore, though I may indicate, I will\nnot attempt in this lecture to decide on, the question of origin. I\nwill content myself with arranging the phenomena according as they\nappear from our point of view to belong to a lower stratum of religion\nor a higher; such an {165} arrangement begs no question, and agrees\nwith our experience that in all religions, whether savage or\ncivilised, lower and higher elements are able to coexist. I will first\ngive a general sketch of the facts, with some interpretation of them,\nand will follow this with an illustrative selection of the prayers of\nprimitive and advanced communities.\n\nAccording to the modern definition of prayer, man addresses uttered or\ninaudible speech to a divine power conceived as Spirit or God, but\nalways as personal, in order to obtain material, moral, or spiritual\nblessings: that part of the address that contains the actual prayer\nwill be often accompanied by words of homage, adoration, confession of\nsin, expressions of doctrinal faith, statements concerning the\nbeneficent operations of the divinity in time past, self-assuring\nutterances of confidence in divine protection or the divine promise.\nThough the formul\u00e6 contain much positive statement and are by no\nmeans confined to the optative mood, the attitude of the {166}\nsupplicator is always reverential and self-abased; modern religion\nreprobates any idea of compelling the divinity; only it generally\nseals its petitions with the mystic signature of a powerful name. If\nthis may pass as a fairly comprehensive and adequate account of modern\nor advanced prayer, it will still be found to contain elements that\nmay descend from a very ancient mould of religious thought not easy to\nreconcile with our higher religious consciousness; and it is no\nadequate account of the various modes which less advanced societies\nhave used and are still using to express their desires to the\nsupernatural power. It has indeed been recently asserted, with some\nplausibility,[166.1] that no savage community yet explored lacks the\nconception of a high god making for righteousness; and certainly many\nof the lower races have spontaneously developed genuine prayer in the\nmodern sense. Still it is sometimes reported by scientific observers\nthat some backward {167} peoples do not pray at all;[167.1] and it\nappears not to be uncommon for the savage to regard his high god as\ntoo remote to be addressed for any practical purpose.\n\nBut the savage, though he may pray as we do, has other ways of\naddressing himself to the unseen personal agencies that he believes to\nsurround him; and these are the ways of magic and the magic-spell.\nHaving learned from human experience that he can project his\nwill-power by an occult process so as to subdue the mind of his\nfellow-man, he experiments with this method upon the world of nature\nand spirits: he deals with ghosts chiefly in this way, though he may\npray to them also; and he has no reluctance in applying his magic even\nto the higher divinities. As magic-worker he stands on a different\nfooting altogether from the petitioner: his attitude towards the\nsupernatural power is self-confident and imperious, his speech is no\nprayer but a command. He may project his will by dumb show, {168} by\naction suggestive of his desire: but in most cases he will probably\nprefer to accompany it with potent speech, so as to drive his will\nhome to the mark, so to speak: and the psychology of such magic\npractices has been ably investigated by recent writers. The technical\nname for such exercise of will upon another person is suggestion; a\nmodern application of it sometimes appears in the extreme form that we\ncall mesmerism or hypnotism. For the successful application of the\ncharm, it is often an essential condition that one should possess\noneself of the name of the person against whom it is directed, and at\ntimes of his picture or effigy, for both the name and the picture are\nregarded as vital parts of the whole individuality that one seeks to\ncontrol. The same ideas transferred into the world of supernatural\npersonalities account for the potency and deep significance that\nattaches to the divine name, and for the prominence of the picture and\nthe effigy in the religious magic. But the savage has also {169}\nlearned from experience that he can work upon his fellows by entreaty,\nflattery, soothing and endearing address: and it was obviously natural\nfor him to approach the divine powers in the same fashion, and to use\nhumble and prayerful petitions. Nor does there seem any reason why he\nshould not employ the methods of magic and prayer simultaneously or in\nclose conjunction on the same occasion. We may often in fact be in\ndoubt whether to interpret a certain primitive religious act from one\npoint of view or the other. Thus we are told that when the Khonds of\nOrissa are about to enter on a campaign, \u201cthe priest cuts a branch and\ndresses it and arms it, so as to personate one of the foe: thereupon\nit is thrown down at the shrine of the war-god\u201d:[169.1] This formal\nappeal to the god is speechless, and may be thought to be a speechless\nprayer; but it is of the same colour as a multifarious mass of\npractices which are mimetic and which are intended to work by means of\nsuggestion. {170} A singular ritual is recorded of the rain societies\nof North America:[170.1] emblems or picture-writing representing\nclouds, with vertical drops symbolising rain, are placed on an altar,\nears of maize are placed by the side of them with other objects, and\nthe corn-ears are sprinkled with water, while at the same time prayers\nare proffered to the ghosts that control the rain-supply. We would\nwish to know what the manner of the praying is; but it seems clear\nthat we here have the ritual of prayer combined with magic-suggestion,\nwhich consists in pretending to do the thing which it is desired to\nbring about. Again, the primitive formul\u00e6 devised to drive out the\ndemons of disease and poverty are usually imperious commands and not\nprayers: such as the Chinese \u201cLet the devil of poverty\ndepart\u201d;[170.2] the Greek, \u201cGo out, hunger,\u201d[170.3] and \u201cTo the\ndoor, you ghosts.\u201d[170.4]\n\n{171}\n\nBut when, as in Buro, the bidding takes such a form as \u201cGrandfather\nsmall-pox, go away,\u201d[171.1] the reverential and soothing address\nallows us to approximate this to prayer, for in the liturgies of the\nearlier as well as the advanced religions the divinity is commonly\naddressed in terms of kinship. We shall note instances of real prayers\nproffered by the uncultured races to a high god, yet retaining\nsomething of the magic character and tone: we detect it in the mystic\nemployment of the name, in the reiteration of the same short phrase,\nin the droning sing-song in which, according to Professor\nTylor,[171.2] savage prayers are usually intoned, the tone of a\nmesmeric incantation. But gradually, as the concept of divinity\ndeepens in the progressive race, and the mind becomes penetrated with\nthe consciousness of the littleness of man and of the incomparable\ngreatness of God, the worshipper tends to become the humble petitioner\nand prayer {172} comes to predominate over spell. And it has happened\nin the legislation of the higher religions that magic at last becomes\n\u201csuspect\u201d and tabooed: yet the most austere and purified religion\noften unconsciously retains certain elements of spell-ritual, and even\nlegitimatises the spell by virtue of the distinction between white\nmagic and black. The distinction is morphologically unsound, and\narises generally from _ex-parte_ prejudice. We do not find, in fact,\nif we broadly compare the phenomena of all religions, that cleavage\nand irreconcilable antagonism between magic and religion which has\noften been supposed. Even in religions that we must class as high, the\ndeity himself is often imagined to work by means of magic, and the\nChristian Church itself has given its patronage and consecration to\npractices of magical significance, such as the ordeal, purification,\ncertain forms of healing, exorcisms of evil spirits: all these will be\naccompanied by prayers to God, but the prayers are so impregnated with\nthe ideas of {173} animistic magic that we can hardly regard them as\npure forms. Nevertheless, though the lower elements are so difficult\nto eradicate, yet the experience of some few of the higher communities\nmay reassure us that as a religion progresses in spirituality it can\npurge itself more and more thoroughly of these, and the progress is\nfrom spell to prayer.\n\nAgain, we may compare the phenomena from the point of view of the\nprogress in aspiration. In the primitive period, when the struggle is\nto live at all rather than to live well, the objects of prayer must be\nmaterial blessings, and these are still prominent in the liturgies of\nthe civilised societies. There is a sameness in all these, and the\nchief distinction to note is between the prayers that look to the\nindividual alone and those that look to the good of the community. A\nhigher stage is reached when moral and spiritual qualities become the\nobject of prayer; and when this is attained, the principle of prayer\nis likely to become more and more spiritual, and the {174} petitioner\nmore and more diffident in the expression of his material wants, and\nwith a growing consciousness that the Deity knows best what is good\nfor man, may rise to the height of the formula, \u201cThy will be done.\u201d It\nis interesting to note in how many races some such utterance has been\nheard; and at times men may have been helped to it by the\nconsciousness which scientific advance had awakened, that the laws of\nthe material universe cannot be capriciously altered to suit the\ntemporary needs of the individual: a formula of acquiescence appears\nthen to be the deepest and truest prayer. Finally, in the evolution of\nprayer we may consider that the consummation is marked by the theory,\nmaintained by later Greek philosophy and early Christian fathers\nalike, that the true intention of prayer is not the mere petition for\nsome special blessing, but rather the communion with God, to whom it\nis a spiritual approach. Here as often elsewhere, the highest\nspiritual product of human thought {175} reveals its affinity with\nsome dimly remote primeval concept; for much of the spell-ritual at\nwhich we have been glancing implies an idea of such communion, the\nhuman agent endeavouring to charge himself with a potency drawn from a\nquasi-divine source.\n\nIt remains now to take concrete examples from the record of prayer\nillustrative of these phases of development. Looking first at the\nsavage races, we have already observed that some of their formul\u00e6\nseem to belong to the borderland between spell and prayer. When the\nNew Caledonian says over the fire that he kindles to increase the heat\nof the sun, \u201cSun, I do this that you may be burning hot,\u201d it is\nobviously not a prayer that he utters to the sun-god but a formula\nexpressing the suggestion of his magic.[175.1] And when the Karens of\nBurma at the threshing of the rice call out to the corn-mother, \u201cShake\nthyself, grandmother, shake thyself. Let the paddy ascend till it\nequals a hill, equals a mountain; shake thyself, {176} grandmother,\nshake thyself,\u201d[176.1] we have surely a command rather than a pure\nprayer; for primitive vegetation-ritual works by compulsion rather\nthan entreaty. On the other hand, we have record of a genuine Karen\nprayer addressed to \u201cthe God of heaven and earth, God of the mountains\nand hills,\u201d on the occasion when a sin of unchastity was supposed to\nhave sterilised the earth: \u201cDo not be angry with me, do not hate me,\nbut have mercy on me and compassionate me.\u2026 Now I repair the\nmountains, now I heal the hills.\u2026 Make thy paddy fruitful, thy rice\nabundant.\u2026 If we cultivate but little, still grant that we may obtain\na little.\u201d But the prayer is accompanied with rites that are purely\nmagical and aiming at the restoration of the earth.[176.2]\n\nThe buffalo clan among the Sioux Indians decorate themselves with\nemblems of their totem animal before going on the war-path, {177} and\nexpress the purpose of the dressing with a sententious phrase: \u201cMy\nlittle grandfather is always dangerous when he makes an\nattempt.\u201d[177.1] Such an utterance, considered formally, is not a\nprayer but a statement about the power of the buffalo, \u201cthe little\ngrandfather\u201d; for it is an article of faith in the magic creed that\nthe supernatural force, which the spell aims at setting in operation,\ncan be made to work by definite statements that it is working; these\nare suggestive assurances that increase one\u2019s own confidence; and the\nSioux formula is of such a nature; only the coaxing and endearing\nphrase of kinship seems to imply a half entreaty as well. We discern\nmore clearly the rudiments of a prayer in the words addressed by the\nSantee Indians to the buffalo when they have offered him a feast:\n\u201cGrandfather, venerable man, thy children have made this feast for\nyou: may the food thus taken cause them to live {178} and bring them\ngood fortune.\u201d[178.1] The account of the Sioux religion preserves a\nquaint form of words which are used for the riddance of the ghost, to\ndespatch the soul of the deceased to the home of the dead: \u201cYou are\ngoing to the animals, you are going to your ancestors, you came hither\nfrom the animals and you are going back thither: do not face this way\nagain: when you go, continue walking.\u201d[178.2] The tone of the words\nis kind and considerate, but authoritative rather than supplicatory,\nand unlike the formula which the same Indians are reported to use when\npraying to their ancestors for good weather or good hunting, \u201cSpirits\nof the dead, have mercy on us.\u201d[178.3] Certain prayers used\nhabitually by the Todas of the Nalgiri hills for the thriving of the\ndairy and the buffalo herd have recently been published,[178.4] and\nas the formul\u00e6 are all {179} in the optative mood--\u201cMay it be well\nfor the buffaloes, may there be no destroyer, etc.,\u201d and there is an\nappeal to divine personages or powers--\u201cfor the sake of such or such a\ngod may this happen\u201d--we may class them as prayers; but the appeal is\nvery faint and the formul\u00e6 seem to be used as if they possessed a\nself-dependent efficacy. More interesting and fervent is the address\nto the sun, proffered by a solitary hunter of the half-christianised\nKekchi tribe of Indians:[179.1] his object is to secure game and food\nin the wilderness both for himself and as an oblation to the god; but\nin the very long and impassioned utterance, with its many repetitions,\nthere is very little direct entreaty: the Indian contents himself with\ndefinite and reassuring statements concerning the omnipresence of the\ndeity and the ease with which the latter can execute his will: \u201cIt\nwill give you no trouble to give me all kind of game\u201d; and a moving\n{180} appeal is made on the ground of kinship: \u201cThou art my father:\nwho is my mother, who is my father? Only thou, O God.\u201d\n\nWe may regard these utterances of the hunter not indeed as spells, for\nhis attitude is most reverent and loving, but as potent statement\neffecting the purpose of prayer. Nor need we see Christian influence\nin the striking phrase last quoted, though of course this is possible;\nsuch endearing address is common both in the lower and higher\nliturgies: the Egyptian appealed to Isis in similar terms[180.1]--\u201cOh\nmy father, my brother, my mother Isis,\u201d the Babylonian addressed Bel\nas father and mother,[180.2] and a Vedic hymn contains the phrase,\n\u201cThou, oh Agni, art our father, we are thy kinsmen.\u201d[180.3] Such\nappeals, suggested by the affection between kinsmen {181} and the idea\nof the kinship of man with God, belong to the alphabet of pure prayer.\n\nOf still more value for the light it throws on the attitude of the\nIndian\u2019s mind to the powers of the unseen world, is the so-called\nprayer of a Navajo Shaman belonging to the district of Arizona,\nrecently published in the _American Anthropologist_;[181.1] and to\nunderstand it the circumstances must be briefly stated. The Shaman had\nbeen telling the American inquirer the story of his tribe\u2019s descent\nthrough the lower world and their re-emergence: after the narrative he\nfears that speaking about the lower regions may have caused his own\nspiritual or astral part to have left his body and departed thither;\nand he therefore proceeds to recite a long so-called prayer intended\nto deliver his soul from the witchcraft that may be detaining it\nbelow. We should not strictly call it a prayer at all, but a narrative\nin the indicative mood stating that the war-gods of the tribe are\nactually doing what he specially {182} wants them to do, namely, to go\ndown and rescue his soul from the woman-chieftain, \u201cthe underground\nwitch.\u201d Every step of their way there and back is carefully recounted\nseveral times over, so that they cannot go wrong; and when they are\nsupposed to have brought back his soul, the recital ends with the\njoyful refrain, \u201cThe world before me is restored in beauty: my voice\nis restored in beauty,\u201d each phrase repeated five times. It is really\na spell-narrative about the gods, having the same effect as prayer,\nand is a twofold illustration of the primitive idea that talking about\na thing makes it happen; an idea not wholly extinct among ourselves,\nand possibly underlying some of the liturgies of higher religions.\n\nFor the rest, savages often pray very much as the civilised man, and\naccompany some of their purifications and medicine-magic with real\nprayers to higher gods to give them efficacy: for instance, the\nAfrican doctor administering the medicine shown him by {183} the\nfetich holds it first up to heaven and prays, \u201cFather Heaven, bless\nthis medicine that I now give.\u201d[183.1] But I have not been able to\nfind any example of a savage prayer for moral or spiritual blessings.\nAn interesting feature is, however, observable in a verbose and very\nexacting prayer made by the Khonds of Orissa to the earth-goddess;\nafter particularising very carefully their material wants, they\nconclude with the words, \u201cWe are ignorant of what it is good to ask\nfor. You know what is good for us, give it us.\u201d[183.2] This appears\nto be a unique savage version of the great phrase, \u201cThy will be done.\u201d\n\nTurning now to the liturgies of the more advanced peoples,[183.3] we\nmay note briefly at the {184} outset one feature that is found in most\nof them if not common to all; namely, the idea that the prayer gains\npotency from the solemn utterance of the true divine name. The\nphenomenon has been examined by recent writers on comparative\nreligion, especially by Giesebrecht in his treatise on _Die\nAlt-testamentliche Sch\u00e4tzung des Gottesnamens_.[184.1] In primitive\npsychology, the name is part of the personality, and the soul or power\nof the individual inheres in it: therefore he who has the name of the\nperson, whether human, superhuman, or divine, can exercise a certain\ncontrol over him by means of its magical application. Thus in the\nappeal to the god Ukko in the Kalevala, \u201cUkko, oh thou god in heaven,\nUkko come, we call upon thee, Ukko come, we need thee sorely,\u201d there\nis virtue in the threefold repetition of the name, and the passage is\npart of an address which is called \u201cmagic words.\u201d Evidence from {185}\nTeutonic paganism, so far as I know, is lacking, although the idea has\nleft its clear imprint on the human saga. Its influence is strongest\nand its operation most interesting in the liturgies of the\nMediterranean and of India. In old Latium, it seems, the pontifices\nendeavoured to conceal the true names of the gods, lest they might be\nwrongly used by unauthorised persons[185.1] or lest the enemy should\nget the knowledge of them and therewith the power to draw the\ndivinities away. We may thus understand the often misinterpreted\nstatement in Herodotus, that the Pelasgian deities were nameless; and\nthe Greeks themselves must have been familiar with the ritual\nprecaution of keeping secret the divine name, as we may gather from\nthe phrase in the Euripidean fragment[185.2] about the enlightened\nman \u201cwho knows the silent names of the gods\u201d: it is curious to find\nexactly the same expression in a Vedic hymn,[185.3] {186} in which\nthe sacrificial post, or tree to which the sacrifices were attached,\nis thus addressed: \u201cWhere thou knowest, oh tree, the sacred names of\nthe gods, to that place make the offerings go.\u201d It is possible that\nthe same superstition may have been the original cause of the custom\nthat has sometimes been observed of silent or inaudible prayer: the\nformul\u00e6 with the divine name attached to them being of such potency\nthat they must be concealed.\n\nThe belief that the name belongs to the essence of the personality\nexplains the curious formula in the Umbrian prayer preserved in the\nTabul\u00e6 Iguvin\u00e6, where the god Grabovius is implored to be propitious\nto the \u201cArx Fisia\u201d and to \u201cthe name of the Arx Fisia,\u201d as if the name\nof the city was a living and independent entity.\n\nIn the Greek liturgies we note the anxious care with which particular\nqualifying epithets were selected and attached to the personal name of\nthe divinity, so as to make clear what was the precise operation of\ndivine {187} favour which the prayer aimed at evoking. This explains\nwhy so many divinities, some of whom were scarcely known outside a\nnarrow area, were invoked as \u03c0\u03bf\u03bb\u03c5\u03ce\u03bd\u03c5\u03bc\u03b5, \u201cthou god of many names,\u201d all\npossible titles of power being summed up in one word. Certain passages\nin the poets become intelligible only in the light of this idea: such\nas the well-known phrase in the chorus of the _Agamemnon_ of\n\u00c6schylus:[187.1] \u201cZeus, whosoever the god is, if this name of Zeus is\ndear to him, by this name I now appeal to him.\u201d The thought and the\nwords of the Vedic poet are often the same as the Greek: Agni is\n\u03c0\u03bf\u03bb\u03c5\u03ce\u03bd\u03c5\u03bc\u03bf\u03c2: \u201cAgni, many are the names of thee the Immortal one\u201d; and\nagain, \u201cThe father adoring gives many names to thee, oh Agni, if thou\nshouldest take pleasure therein.\u201d[187.2]\n\nBut it is in Egypt, the land of magic, where the idea of the potency\nof the divine name {188} assumes dimensions that are truly gigantic.\nIn an early metaphysical theory of the origin of things, which in its\nharmonious self-contradiction reaches quite to the level of Hegelian\nphilosophy, the universe is said to have come into being, and the\nfirst god himself effects his own creation by the utterance of his own\nportentous name:[188.1] in the beginning was the name. It is said of\nthe great god Ra that \u201chis names are manifold and unknown, even the\ngods know them not.\u201d Naturally, therefore, the goddess Isis was\ndesirous of knowing his real name, and having discovered it by a ruse,\nshe became mistress over him and all gods.[188.2] In certain Egyptian\npapyri containing Abraxas prayers, we find the prayer sometimes\ncoupled with the reminder that the petitioner knows the divine mystic\nname;[188.3] thus equipped, the prayer is more than a mere humble\nentreaty.\n\n{189}\n\nWas it from Egypt that the early Israelites derived the same mystic\nillusion concerning the divine name, which to some of the scholars of\nthe last generation appeared to be a faith peculiar to the chosen\npeople? At least we are now enabled, by the recent exposition of the\nfacts, to understand the inner force of such prayers as the Psalmist\u2019s\n\u201cSave me, oh God, by thy name and judge me by thy strength\u201d:[189.1]\nof Jahv\u00e9\u2019s warning to his people in the Exodus to obey the angel whom\nhe sends them, \u201cObey his voice\u2026 for my Name is in him:\u201d[189.2] of the\noath taken by those initiated into the Essenian sect not to reveal the\nnames of the angels:[189.3] of expressions in the New Testament\nconcerning the casting out of devils and the healing of the sick in\nthe name of Jesus: finally, of the significant baptismal phrase, \u201cto\nbaptize into the name of Christ,\u201d[189.4] which reveals the name as a\nreligious potency into which as into a {190} spiritual atmosphere the\nadult catechumen or the initiated infant is brought. And these facts\nof old-world religion and religious logic cast a new light on the\nname-formul\u00e6 which close most of the prayers of the Christian Church,\nand which are words of power to speed the prayer home; and though the\nmodern consciousness may often be unaware of this mystic function of\ntheirs, we may believe that it was more clearly recognised in the\nearly days of Christianity, for in the apocryphal acts of St John we\nfind a long list of mystical names and titles attached to Christ\ngiving to the prayer much of the tone of an enchantment.[190.1]\n\nConnected as it seems with this superstition about names is the belief\nthat, in order to gain complete power over a human or divine\npersonality, it is necessary to know their origin and to express what\none knows about them in the charm: thus in the Kalevala the young\nmagician is taught the origin {191} of things in order that he may\nknow the proper enchantment against them, and a long account of the\norigin of iron, regarded as a demoniac substance, occurs in the\nword-magic used to cure the wound it inflicted. Hence we may account\nfor the descriptive or, so to speak, biographical element in charms\nthat are on the borderland of prayer. The exorciser of evil dreams in\nthe Atharva-Veda prays or sings thus: \u201cWe know, oh sleep, thy birth;\nthou art the son of the divine women-folk, the instrument of Death.\nThou art the ender, thou art Death. Thus do we know thee, oh sleep: do\nthou, oh sleep, protect us from evil dreams.\u201d[191.1] And in the\nworship of Agni the belief is expressed that \u201cthe prayers fill thee\nwith power and strengthen thee,\u201d and this is at once followed by an\naccount of his nature and origin.[191.2] Is it then too far-fetched\nto trace the survival of this old-world {192} thought, rooted as it is\nin the magic of the word and the statement, in the prominence given to\nthe dogmatic biographical statement in our own liturgy? We regard it\nas a confession of faith: it may also be regarded as an expression of\nthe worshipper\u2019s knowledge of the divine personality, whereby he\nraises himself into communion with it and thus gains power for his\nprayer.[192.1]\n\nConsidering now in a more general survey the liturgies of the nations\nthat have attained culture, we might begin with our own fathers. But\nso little that touches the inner life of their pre-Christian religion\nhas been preserved, that probably not much material for our present\npurpose is to be discovered from the records. We know that they were\ngiven to the employment of the rune or the spell, the rival or the\nparent of prayer; and one of these, used by Odin to heal the sprained\nfoot of Baldur\u2019s foal, is perhaps {193} the only surviving fragment of\nIndo-Germanic poetry.[193.1] Odin sings, \u201cBone to bone, blood to\nblood, limb to limb, as though they were glued together\u201d; in a later\nNorwegian, and also in a Scottish version, it is Christ who heals the\nfoal with the same magic words, strengthened however by the formula,\n\u201cHeal in the Holy Ghost\u2019s name.\u201d And this useful medicine-charm was\nnot forgotten by the Aryan Indians, for we find the words in the\nAtharva-Veda, \u201cFit together, hair with hair, fit together, skin with\nskin: thy blood, thy bone shall grow.\u201d[193.2] Neither god nor ghost\nwas needed to help out the force of such incantations. But probably\nsome time before Christianity prayer had come to prevail over spell in\nthe Teutonic North, for there are traces there of a certain {194}\nantagonism growing between magic and religion, which led to the\ncondemnation of certain forms of magic.[194.1]\n\nAn interesting question arises about a prayer-charm used by the early\nEnglish against sterility of the fields: \u201cHail be thou, Earth, Mother\nof Men, wax fertile in the embrace of God, fulfilled with fruit for\nthe use of man.\u201d[194.2] This poetic utterance implies a veritable\n\u1f31\u03b5\u03c1\u1f78\u03c2 \u03b3\u03ac\u03bc\u03bf\u03c2, or holy marriage of earth and heaven in the Greek sense;\nand reminds us vividly of the spell-formula, used in the Eleusinian\nMysteries and descending from the period when the purpose of these was\nmainly agricultural, \u03a5\u03ad \u039a\u03cd\u03b5, \u201cRain and Conceive,\u201d which was uttered by\nthe mystes, who folded his arms and glanced up to the sky at the first\nword and down to the earth at the second: a spell-prayer for fertility\nand human increase. It is probably then correct {195} to call this\nphrase of our ancestors, which is the only surviving fragment, so far\nas I am aware, of their pre-Christian liturgy, a spell-prayer that was\nefficacious by way of suggestion rather than of entreaty.\n\nOf the same ambiguous character was the old Roman chant of the priests\nof Mars, \u201cEnos Lases juvate,\u201d \u201cHelp us, O spirits of our ancestors,\u201d\nrepeated with the iteration common in enchantments and accompanied\nwith dancing and with the utterance of the word \u201ctriumpe.\u201d From the\nhigher point of view the Roman prayers that have come down to us are\nbarren and dull; the well-known liturgical archive containing Rome\u2019s\naddress to Jupiter in the critical days of the Hannibalic war is a\nwary and cleverly drawn legal document, intended to bind the god as\nwell as the State.[195.1] In fact the spiritual side of the old Roman\ncharacter has left no trace of itself in any ritual or liturgy of\nwhich we have record. The prayer of {196} Cato\u2019s that has been\npreserved is merely materialistic.[196.1]\n\nWe expect much more from Greece, and in some measure we are not\ndisappointed. Spell-ritual was no doubt always much in vogue,\nespecially for the purposes of agriculture and purification: we hear\nof certain \u201cmagicians\u201d or \u03bc\u03ac\u03b3\u03bf\u03b9 of Cleonae who averted hailstorms with\nincantations and the shedding of their own blood.[196.2] And a solemn\npart of the State liturgy in Greece was a commination service, which\npronounced a curse on certain offences against the State. The\nreligious curse is an interesting phenomenon of which it is not easy\nto give briefly a full and exact anthropological account; it is taken\nup by the higher religions, but it by no means originated in them,\nbelonging to the sphere of spell rather than of prayer, and working\nout its effect by means of magic suggestion. Even the {197} Jewish\nservice, which we still use on Ash Wednesday, employs curse-formul\u00e6\nin which there is no immediate reference to God, and they may have\nbeen regarded originally as having an independent efficacy. This was\ncertainly the case in Greece, for the curse was itself personified as\nan independent, personal power; and the Erinyes themselves, in some\ndegree the personal embodiments of the curse, work their effect on the\nvictim by singing a spell-song, according to \u00c6schylus, which binds\nhis soul and withers him away.[197.1] And the many private\n\u201cdevotiones\u201d or \u201cdir\u00e6\u201d that have come down to us from Greek\nantiquity, written usually on leaden tablets and consecrating the\nenemy to the powers of the lower world, employ indeed an appeal to\nthese powers that may be interpreted as prayer, but their essential\nquality is magical, and they certainly were supposed to operate as\nspells against the individual, while even the divinities to whom they\nare addressed appear to be constrained {198} rather than entreated. In\none interesting example of the first century A.D., found in\n\u00c6gina,[198.1] of Hellenic-Christian or possibly Judaic origin, the\ncurse takes on the form of a prayer for righteous vengeance--\u201cI call\non the Highest God, the Lord of all spirits and of all flesh, before\nwhom every soul this day is humbled with supplication, against those\nwho have treacherously slain or poisoned the unfortunate Heracleia.\u201d\nIn the Greek legal procedure a curse was sometimes uttered against\noneself if one forswore oneself or if one was guilty of the charge;\nand here as in similar cases in Christian jurisprudence the curse is\nan invocation of the high god who will punish perjury; but we find it\nsimilarly employed in the animistic stage of religion, by the African\nfor instance, who takes an oath by his fetich,[198.2] \u201cMay this\nfetich slay me if I do not fulfil the contract\u201d; and in such cases we\nmust regard the curse as a spell working by {199} suggestion against\noneself rather than as a prayer.\n\nBefore considering Greek prayer proper, we may note as a last example\nof an ambiguous formula, standing midway as it seems between spell and\nprayer, the striking liturgical utterance of the old Dodon\u00e6an ritual,\nemployed for an agricultural service: the priestesses chanted the\nrefrain in two hexameters, the old metre of religion, \u201cGod was, God\nis, God will be, oh Great God; the earth brings forth fruits,\ntherefore call on mother earth.\u201d[199.1] The resemblance of this to\nthe early English formula quoted above is striking enough. The first\nline belongs to an elevated religion and seems far removed from the\nregion of magic; but equally spiritual formul\u00e6 concerning the nature\nand the attributes of God were used in the Zarathustrian and\nBabylonian liturgies for magical purposes, just as texts from the\nBible and Koran have been. And the second line employs the same method\nas the Navajo {200} Shaman employed, for it states that the divinity\nis doing that very thing which it is the object of the liturgy to\nbring about. The appeal to mother earth which is enjoined may have\nbeen merely the invocation of her name, a spell at least as much as a\nprayer. The same may be said of the other popular refrains chanted by\nthe husbandmen of ancient Greece to obtain good crops or fair\nweather--\u201cGive us big sheaves, sheaves,\u201d to Demeter,[200.1] or \u201cCome\nforth, dear sun,\u201d to the sun-god.[200.2]\n\nThe public prayers of Greece, those actually used in the\ntemple-service and the official liturgies, have not been preserved,\nand in this respect the Greek record is very barren compared with the\nBabylonian, Vedic, or Iranian. But though the actual formul\u00e6 are\nlost, we can gather some impression from the inscriptions and other\nliterary sources as to the objects of prayer. The Athenian state\nprayed, \u201cFor the {201} health and safety of the people of the\nAthenians, their wives and children and all in the country,\u201d[201.1]\nand the formula might include a prayer for the prosperity of their\nallies, such as Milesians or Plat\u00e6ans. But we have no indications\nthat the blessings prayed for included others besides the material\nones. The Laced\u00e6monians are commended by Socrates[201.2] for\nrefraining from specifying any particular want, either in their\nprivate or public prayers, but contenting themselves with praying that\nthe gods should grant them \u03c4\u1f70 \u03ba\u03b1\u03bb\u1f70 \u1f10\u03c0\u1f76 \u03c4\u03bf\u1fd6\u03c2 \u1f00\u03b3\u03b1\u03b8\u03bf\u1fd6\u03c2: the phrase has\nsomething of a genuine ring, and is probably derived from a real\nliturgy, but it is not absolutely precise; it seems, however, to\ncomprise spiritual blessings as well as material, and in this respect\nto be unique among the public prayers in Greece, if we dare judge them\nby the scanty record. Probably the formul\u00e6 were very old and the range\nof aspiration usually narrow; and the {202} idea that moral advance\ncould be attained by prayer is perhaps hardly likely to have been\nreflected in them; yet we must take note of the plaintive question put\nby the Corcyr\u00e6an state, weary of civic strife and massacre, to the\nDodon\u00e6an oracle, asking, \u201cTo what god or what hero shall we pray in\norder to obtain concord, and to govern our city fairly and\nwell?\u201d[202.1] and we find an educational official of Cos, in the\nsecond century B.C., praying \u201cfor the health and the virtuous\nbehaviour of the boys.\u201d[202.2]\n\nWe are better informed concerning the style of private prayer in\nGreece, as also concerning the theory of prayer that gradually\ncommended itself to the highest intelligences. The average private man\nwas certainly capable of praying for blessings other than material. We\nhave the prayer of a potter of Metapontum, of the sixth century B.C.,\npraying {203} to the god that he might \u201chave a good report among\nmen.\u201d[203.1] Among the prayers contained in the literature of the\nfifth century, our interest is arrested by such utterances as\nPindar\u2019s, \u201cMay I walk, oh God, in the guileless paths of life, and\nleave behind me a fair name for my children\u201d;[203.2] and again, \u201cOh\nGod that bringest all things to pass, grant me the spirit of reverence\nfor noble things\u201d;[203.3] and by this of Euripides, \u201cMay the spirit\nof chastity abide with me, the fairest gift of God.\u201d[203.4] To this\nage may belong the poetical fragment of a banquet song--for the Greeks\ncould pray genially and seriously in the midst of social\nintercourse--which must have once had much vogue: \u201cOh Pallas, born of\nwaters, Queen Athena, mayest thou and thy father keep this city and\nits citizens in prosperity, free from sorrow, civic discord, and\nuntimely deaths.\u201d[203.5] The prayers of Xenophon and Plutarch may\n{204} be taken as typical of the average ethical feeling of their\nrespective periods: the former petitions for \u201chealth, bodily strength,\ngood feeling among friends, safety in war, and wealth\u201d;[204.1] the\nlatter for \u201cwealth, concord, righteousness in word and deed.\u201d[204.2]\n\nMeantime the philosophers from Socrates onwards were insisting on the\nmore spiritual view of prayer, preaching that, in the first place,\nthere was no need to particularise one\u2019s needs in one\u2019s petitions to\nGod, for there was danger lest one should pray for what is injurious;\nin the second place, that prayer should look only to the spiritual,\nnot the material life. And we owe to this theory some striking\nutterances that must rank high in the literature of ethical religion:\nsuch as the prayer of Socrates, \u03b4\u03bf\u03af\u03b7\u03c4\u03ad \u03bc\u03bf\u03b9 \u03ba\u03b1\u03bb\u1ff7 \u03b3\u03b5\u03bd\u03ad\u03c3\u03b8\u03b1\u03b9 \u03c4\u1f04\u03bd\u03b4\u03bf\u03b8\u03b5\u03bd,\n\u201cGrant me to become noble of heart\u201d[204.3]; of Apollonius of Tyana,\n\u1f66 \u03b8\u03b5\u03bf\u1f76 \u03b4\u03bf\u03af\u03b7\u03c4\u03ad \u03bc\u03bf\u03b9 \u03c4\u1f70 \u1f40\u03c6\u03b5\u03b9\u03bb\u03cc\u03bc\u03b5\u03bd\u03b1, \u201cOh gods, grant me that which I\ndeserve\u201d[204.4]; the longer poetic {205} formula quoted by Plato,\n\u201cKing Zeus, grant us the good whether we pray for it or not, but evil\nkeep from us though we pray for it\u201d[205.1]: and with these we may\ncompare the dictum of Epictetus[205.2]: \u201cIn praying to the divine\npowers ask for divine things, things free from fleshly or earthly\ncircumstance.\u201d Other expressions of the Stoic sect are equally\nstriking for the spirit of fervent acquiescence and resignation that\ninspires them. Here is the prayer of Epictetus: \u201cDo with me what thou\nwilt: my will is thy will: I appeal not against thy\njudgments\u201d[205.3]; and a poetic version of this has come down to us\nfrom earlier stoicism--\u201cLead me, O God, and I will follow, willingly\nif I am wise, but if not willingly I still must follow.\u201d A prayer\nrecorded in the apocryphal Acts of St Thomas[205.4] seems almost an\necho of these: \u201cI go whither Thou wilt, oh Jesus: Thy will be done.\u201d\n\nWhen the best thought of the age had {206} reached to such a point of\nspiritual abstraction, it was natural that the same question should\narise as arose among the more philosophic adherents of early\nChristianity, whether special prayers were justifiable at all. It\nseems that at some period the Pythagorean school were inclined to\nforbid prayer altogether,[206.1] for the reason that God knew better\nhow to give than man knew how to ask; but the later Neo-Platonism\ndiscovered an ideal _raison-d\u2019\u00eatre_ for the practice, on the ground\nthat it raised the mind to direct communion and converse with God; and\nthis view is developed at great length by Proclus.[206.2]\n\nThis sketch of the Greek phenomena that belong to our subject may\nclose with an example of that perfervid mysticism that marks the\nliturgies of latest paganism: the {207} following is the close of a\nlong address to Asclepios--an Hellenic deity attracted here into the\nEgyptian circle--found in the treatise called _Asclepios_, attributed\nto Apuleius:[207.1] \u201cWe rejoice in thy divine salvation, because thou\nhast shown thyself wholly to us: we rejoice that thou hast deigned to\nconsecrate us to eternity, while we are still in these mortal bodies.\nWe have known thee, oh true life of the life of man.\u2026 Adoring thy\ngoodness, we make this our only prayer\u2026 that thou wouldst be willing\nto keep us all our lives in the love of thy knowledge.\u201d Portions at\nleast of this prayer, which was the prelude to a communion supper,\nwould not surprise us if we found it in a Christian liturgy.[207.2]\n\n{208}\n\nIt will be convenient next to glance at the records of the other great\nbranches of the ancient Aryan world, the Vedic Indians and the\nIranians. One does not read long in the sacred books of India without\nattaining the conviction that the highest religion of the Vedas was\ndeeply penetrated with sacerdotal magic; which was so far from losing\nits hold in the later period that it imprisoned the religious thought,\nand the later Brahmanism was capable of the belief that without the\nspell of the sacrifice the sun could not run his course in heaven. And\nthe recital of spells forms a great part of the Vedic ritual. Thus the\nhymns say of the fire-god Agni, \u201cThe thoughtful men find Agni when\nthey have recited the spells\u201d; and the gods themselves, like the Norse\ndivinities, work by spells: \u201cAgni upholds the sky by his efficacious\nspells.\u201d[208.1] Yet the early record gives us also copious\nillustration of real prayer, and occasionally of a very exalted tone.\nIt is true, as we should expect, {209} that material and temporal\nadvantages are by far the predominant objects of the petition: the\nhead of the household prays for wealth, offspring, victory in battle\nor the races; with rare exceptions, the prayers are personal and\nprivate rather than political, and are thus in marked contrast to the\nHellenic; yet we have a few that are evidently proffered for the\ncommunity,[209.1] and at times the deity is petitioned to grant an\nabundant supply of valiant men. But even in the few prayers that\nreflect the political life of the State, the individualistic spirit is\napt to appear. We have a curious example of a petition to Indra to\nmake a man powerful in the political assembly: \u201cIn this entire\ngathering render, O Indra, me successful,\u201d and this is combined with a\nna\u00efve spell whereby the politician endeavours to mesmerise the whole\nmeeting: he names the assembly--as our Speaker might name a\nrecalcitrant member--\u201cWe know thy name, {210} oh assembly.\u2026 Of them\nthat are sitting together I take to myself the power and the\nunderstanding\u201d: and again, \u201cWith my mind do I seize your\nminds.\u201d[210.1] But even when the prayer is personal and materialistic\na real fervour and a genial poetic freshness is often to be found.\nHere is a beautiful prelude to a prayer for long life proffered to the\nancient heaven-god: \u201cMany dawns have not yet dawned: grant me to live\nin them, O Varuna.\u201d And often the worshipper rises above mere material\naspirations, as in such appeals to Agni as the following: \u201cMay we be\nwell-doers before the gods.\u201d[210.2] \u201cGive us not up, oh Agni, to want\nof thought.\u201d[210.3] \u201cMayest thou bestow splendour, renown, and (wise)\nmind upon such mortals as satisfy thee with refreshment, oh\nAgni.\u201d[210.4] \u201cDrive far from us senselessness and anguish: drive far\nall ill-will from whom thou attendest.\u201d[210.5] {211} At times also\nthe hymns reveal a deep consciousness of sin and a desire for divine\nforgiveness. \u201cThrough want of strength, thou strong and bright god,\nhave I gone astray. Have mercy, Almighty, have mercy!\u201d[211.1] \u201cAgni,\ndrive away from us sin, which leads us astray.\u201d[211.2] \u201cBy the\nearth\u2019s greatness, oh Agni, forgive us even committed sin, that we may\nbe great.\u201d[211.3] \u201cWhatever sin we have committed against thee in\nthoughtlessness, men as we are, make thou us sinless before\nAditi.\u201d[211.4] Yet we may suspect that the term sin is not always\nused in these prayers in its modern ethical sense, not for instance in\nthe prayer, \u201cFrom the sins which knowingly or unknowingly we have\ncommitted, do ye, all gods, of one accord release us\u201d;[211.5] and the\nprimitive concept on which the old magic of sin-transference was based\nsurvives in such passages as the following: {212} \u201cPass far away, oh\nsin of the mind: why dost thou utter things not to be uttered? Pass\naway, I love thee not: to the trees and the forests go on!\u201d[212.1]\n\u201cEnter into the rays, into smoke, oh sin; go into the vapours, and\ninto the fog.\u201d[212.2] The context discloses only an indirect appeal\nto a personal deity, though the term sin in the former passage is\nclearly applied to what we should call moral offences.\n\nIn the Vedic ritual, then, we find a pure and spiritual form of\nprayer; yet a certain spell-power may attach even to the highest\ntypes, for we find not infrequently the conception that not only the\npower of the worshipper but the power of the deity also is nourished\nand strengthened by prayer;[212.3] and the prayer itself is usually\naccompanied by a potent act. With this aspect of Vedic prayers we may\nassociate {213} the fact that Agni, the fire-god, appears as the chief\ndivinity to whom they are addressed; for his ritual is purificatory,\nand the prayers are thus based on a liturgy of purification which\nstimulates the mental or spiritual force of the worshipper.\n\nWe may now turn to another great Aryan stock, the Iranian, whose\nearlier religion culminated in the Zarathustrian system. The relation\nof spell to prayer is, on the whole, the same in the Zend-Avesta as we\nfind it in the Vedic hymns, a real spell can accompany a real prayer,\nand the text of the prayer itself becomes a most potent charm. The\n\u201csacerdotal\u201d physician, who, as we have seen, occupied a higher rank\nin the Zarathustrian estimate than the scientific practitioner, offers\nfirst a genuine prayer to Ahura-Mazda for spiritual strength to deal\nwith the disease--\u201cGive us, Ahura, that powerful sovereignty by the\nstrength of which we may smite down the drug (the demon).\u201d Fraught\nwith this mesmeric power he then directs his spell {214} against the\nsickness-demon: \u201cTo thee, oh Sickness, I say--Avaunt! To thee, oh\nDeath, I say--Avaunt!\u201d[214.1] And in the ritual of purification,\nwhich closely resembles the system of therapeutics, the formul\u00e6 of\nprayers of the most exalted type in the sacred books are used, not as\nprayers, but as cathartic spells.[214.2] It is not hard to discern\nthe steps that lead from this grade of thought to the highest at which\nthe religious speculation of the Zarathustrian arrived. The uttered\nWord of God is given a supernatural cosmic force; and the prophet\npronounces that this utterance of the \u201cHoly Word is of such a nature\nthat if all the corporeal and living world should learn it, and\nlearning hold fast to it, they should be redeemed from their\nmortality.\u201d[214.3] And we can understand why a large part of the\nZarathustrian liturgy should be devoted to the recital of formul\u00e6\nwhich are statements of the {215} Mazdean faith. Before rising in the\nmorning and retiring at night, the pious Persian was recommended to\nsay, \u201cAll good thoughts, all good words, all good deeds I do\nwillingly: all evil thoughts, all evil words, all evil deeds I do\nunwillingly.\u201d[215.1] It is interesting to compare with our own creed\nthe following Mazdean confession: \u201cI confess myself a Mazdayasnian of\nZarathustra\u2019s order: I celebrate my praises for good thoughts, good\nwords, and good deeds.\u2026 With chanting praises I present all good\nthoughts, good words, and good deeds, and with rejection I repudiate\nall evil thoughts and words and deeds. Here I give to you, oh ye\nBountiful Immortals, sacrifice and homage with the mind,[215.2] with\nwords, deeds, and my entire person, yea, I offer to you the flesh of\nmy very body.\u201d[215.3] The formul\u00e6 of confession, as well as other\nparts of this liturgy, are penetrated with the idea of a\nmoral-theological {216} dualism to which our Christian theology has\nbeen indirectly deeply indebted. The Mazdean proclaims his detestation\nof the Daevas, and of Angra-Mainyu, the evil god. \u201cTaught by Ahura, I\ndrive away Angra-Mainyu from this house, this borough\u201d; such words are\n\u201cvictorious, most healing,\u201d[216.1] and could be used as the\nrecitation of our creed and paternoster have been used, as veritable\nspells against the evil power or demon. But in comparing the\nspell-prayers of the Persian with the Vedic, we are struck with the\nsuperiority of the former liturgy in one respect, that here the spell\nis only brought to bear on the demon, not on the highest god; the\nprayer increases the spiritual force of the worshipper but does not\nconstrain Ahura.\n\nAnd the Iranian prayers appear to rise above the Vedic in the\nenthusiasm of the idea of righteousness that pervades them, and in the\nconviction that the believer can aid Ahura-Mazda in the continual\nstruggle against the {217} power of evil and in helping towards the\nfinal establishment of the righteous kingdom. He prays that, \u201cThrough\nthe good thought and the holiness of him who offers thee the due meed\nof praise thou mayest, oh Lord, make the world of Resurrection appear\nat thy will, under thy sovereign rule.\u201d[217.1] \u201cMay we be such as\nthose who bring on this great Renovation.\u201d[217.2] \u201cMay we help to\nbring on the good government of Ahura, which is the best for us at\nevery present hour.\u201d[217.3] \u201cBe righteousness life-strong and clothed\nwith body. In that realm which shines with splendour as the sun, let\npiety be present, and may she, through the indwelling of thy good\nmind, give us blessings in reward for deeds.\u201d[217.4] In fact the\ngreater number of the prayers are strikingly spiritual, and for\nspiritual, not material blessings. The prophet asks Ahura, \u201cHow man\nmay become most like unto thee?\u201d[217.5] and prays for \u201caids of grace,\nbeseeching what in accordance with {218} thy wished-for aim is\nbest.\u201d[218.1] And the prayer is sometimes directed to abstract moral\npowers, emanations of Ahura: \u201cIf the Mazda-Ahura and Righteousness and\nPious Concord be invokable, I implore through the good mind a kingdom\nfor myself, through whose increase we may conquer the Lie.\u201d The\nkingdom is here the \u201cDesirable Kingdom of Righteousness.\u201d[218.2]\nCertainly the Mazdean kingdom was not of this world, and the\nZarathustrian religion is one of the least materialistic that the\nworld has known; its chief moral weakness being, as we have seen, its\nbondage to ritualistic purity. We may note in conclusion, as showing\nthe continuity of the national spirit, the pronouncement of a Persian\nChristian, Bishop Aphrahat of East Syria, that the only valid object\nof prayer was purity of heart.[218.3]\n\nMany of the phenomena that we have been noting among the Aryan races\nconfront us {219} again when we turn to the Chald\u00e6an-Babylonian\nliturgies. Here also there appears no real antagonism between spell\nand prayer, magic and religion.[219.1] Spell-formul\u00e6 are used and\naccompanied with a ritual of purification to drive out the evil\nspirits of sickness; and the highest hymns containing real prayers can\nbe employed as texts for magic purposes; even the gods themselves work\nby magic, and Marduk himself is invoked as the arch-magician.[219.2]\nAnd the idea that the prayer could in some sense exercise compulsion\non the god appears in an anecdote told by Porphyry about a Chald\u00e6an\nwho was an expert in \u201cpurifications of the soul: but found his efforts\nthwarted because another man who was powerful in the same art had, by\nmeans of mystic prayers, bound over the powers he had invoked not to\ngrant his demands.\u201d[219.3] Yet by the side of all this we find often\nan exalted {220} type of prayer, with spiritual and fervent\nexpressions of homage; and the religious law that \u201cprayer absolves\nfrom sin\u201d is given as part of Marduk\u2019s revelation to man.[220.1] A\nlarge number of the records contain the liturgies used by the kings,\nand while victory, health, and long life, the permanence of the\ndynasty are the more usual objects of the petition, the deeper ethical\ntone is often heard. The following are a few examples of the higher\naspirations of the Babylonian religion. The founder of the new\nBabylonian kingdom has recorded his convictions for the guidance of\nhis successor: \u201cMarduk sees through the lips, sees the heart: he who\nkeeps true to Bel and the son of Bel will last for ever.\u201d[220.2] One\nof the greatest prayers in this or any other liturgical collection is\nthat which Nebukadnezar made to Marduk on his accession:[220.3] \u201cOh\nEternal Ruler, Lord of All\u2026 lead the King by the right way\u2026 I am\u2026 the\nwork of thy hand: {221} after thy great mercy which thou showest to\nall, oh Lord, grant that thy high majesty may show compassion upon me:\nset in my heart the fear of thy Godhead: grant me what thou deemest\nbest: for thou it is that hast created my life.\u201d This is scarcely the\nNebukadnezar whom we once thought we knew. There is also a pathetic\ninterest attaching to the prayer of Nabonnedos to the god Schamasch\nfor his son Belsazar:[221.1] \u201cProlong the days of Belsazar, my\nfirst-born son--may he commit no sin.\u201d The king Nabonnedos prays also\nto Marduk: \u201cMay I rule as king according to thy wish\u2026 let me not in my\npride lose knowledge of thee, for it is thou that hast chosen me\nout.\u201d[221.2] The following phrases in a prayer to Marduk of an\nunknown ruler are still more striking: \u201cOh Marduk, great Lord\u2026 let me\nbehold thy Godhead, let me attain my heart\u2019s desire: set righteousness\non my lips and grace in my heart.\u201d[221.3] {222} Among the attributes\nof the gods there is a fervent recognition of their mercy and\ncompassionateness: Marduk is \u201cthe god full of mercy, who loves to\nquicken that which is dead\u201d;[222.1] and Ischtar, the goddess, is\ninvoked as \u201cthe helper of the oppressed, oh thou endowed with majesty;\nthou who raisest the fallen and exaltest the trodden under\nfoot.\u201d[222.2] And the same idea reappears in a hymn to another\ngoddess of like character with Ischtar, in which we catch the tones of\na high religious poetry of homage:[222.3] \u201cOh strong and majestic,\nhighest of the goddesses, radiant star\u2026 strongest of the goddesses\nwhose robe is the light: thou who dost course through heaven and\nengirdle the earth\u2026 dealing punishment and pleading for men, rewarding\nthe just, leading the wanderer, overthrowing the enemy who feareth not\nthy Godhead, protecting the captive, taking the weak by the hand--be\n{223} gracious unto thy servant, who calls upon thy name with grace.\u201d\n\nThis brief illustrative selection may close with the quotation of a\nprayer or hymn of praise to Marduk, perhaps the most remarkable among\nthose that have as yet been translated:[223.1] \u201cThe Lord, peerless in\nmight, the King of grace, the Ruler of the lands, that bringeth peace\nin heaven, that through his glance overthroweth the mighty. Lord, thy\nseat is Babylon, thy crown Borsippa. Thy thought, oh Lord, passeth\nover the wide heavens, and with thine eyes thou beholdest the\naffliction of men, through the anger of thy countenance thou spreadest\nlamentation, and thou takest him captive who regardeth thee not and\nsetteth himself up against thee. Through thy gracious countenance thou\nshowest men favour, thou lettest them see the light and they proclaim\nthy Righteousness. Oh Lord of the lands, Light of Izizi, thou who\nproclaimest grace, who is it whose {224} mouth doth not tell of thy\nRighteousness, who doth not praise thy majesty, and glorify thy\nlordship?\u2026 Look down upon the hands raised in prayer to thee. Grant\nfavour to thy city Babylon\u2026 and turn thy countenance upon thy house,\nand give help to the sons of Babylon and all thy people.\u201d\n\nWith all their spells and their magic, the higher minds of the\nBabylonians knew how to pray, and the fervent and exalted tones of\nsuch liturgies remind us of the religious poetry of Israel. And it is\ninteresting to note that among the few deities of Babylon whose ideal\nreached to such a point of ethical development, the moon-god Sin\nappears, who gave his name to Sinai, and who has been thought by some\nto have had some original affinity with the God of Israel.[224.1]\n\nAs regards the liturgies of Egypt, so far as I have been able with\nvery limited opportunities to examine them, the superstition of the\nspell lay so heavy on the Egyptian mind, {225} that prayer does not\nseem able to extricate itself from its prepossession. Not only do the\ndeities work by means of spells and the magic of their names, but the\nworshipper uses the same means to work upon them; and the prayer that\naccompanies the spell seems usually to savour of self-confidence and\ncommand. At least this is the impression one gathers from what is\npublished concerning the Book of the Dead and the ritual practised to\nsecure the happiness of the deceased. By utterance of words of\nenchantment over pictures, the soul of the dead becomes\ndivine.[225.1] The magic word helps to transfer the power of the\ndeity into the fetich, and this with the word written upon it is\nplaced on the body of the dead: for instance, an amulet with the\nwords, \u201cMay the blood of Isis\u2026 and the word of power of Isis be mighty\nto protect this mighty one\u201d;[225.2] a terra-cotta lamp of the\nGreco-Roman period, carved with the symbol {226} of the frog-headed\ngoddess Heqt, and bearing the words, \u201cI am the Resurrection.\u201d[226.1]\nOn an object placed under the head of the deceased to maintain the\nwarmth of the body, we find the following words, supposed to be\naddressed by the spirit to Amen:[226.2] \u201cI am a perfect spirit among\nthe companions of Ra, and I have gone in and come forth among the\nperfect souls\u2026 grant thou unto me the things which my body needeth,\nand heaven for my soul and a hidden place for my mummy.\u201d \u201cMay the god\nwho himself is hidden and whose face is concealed, who shineth upon\nthe world in his forms of existence and in the underworld, grant that\nmy soul may live for ever.\u201d[226.3] Here we have the statement of a\nconviction that gains its assurance from magic, followed by prayer. It\nseems that the Egyptian prayed to the gods, as if by such prayer he\nmight gain immortality, but that he trusted equally to {227} magical\nmeans, to pictures and words of power from the sacred texts, and\nemployed at once the methods of religion and of enchantment.[227.1]\n\nLooking at the Christian religion, we should find it hard to give a\nsuccinct and accurate account of these phenomena in the various stages\nof its history. We may be able to set forth the theories and\nritual-practices of the various churches and compare them with what we\nfind elsewhere; but it is more difficult to analyse accurately the\nreligious psychology, the thought and feeling which accompanies the\nritual: the quality of the mental state would depend partly on the\nancestral conditions and the strength of the ancestral instincts of\nthe individual. And the teaching of the most spiritual Christian\nphilosophy has not been able to prevent some touches of the old-world\nmagic from contaminating the worship. The theory of the leading\nthinkers among the early Christian fathers agreed, as we have seen,\nwith the {228} pronouncement of later Greek philosophy. Both for\nClemens, who gives us the earliest theory of Christian prayer, without\nfinding, however, a clear logical system, and for Origen, the final\njustification of prayer was communion with God, \u03c4\u1f78 \u1f00\u03bd\u03b1\u03ba\u03c1\u03b1\u03b8\u1fc6\u03bd\u03b1\u03b9 \u03c4\u1ff7\n\u03c0\u03bd\u03b5\u03cd\u03bc\u03b1\u03c4\u03b9,[228.1] \u1f41\u03bc\u03b9\u03bb\u03af\u03b1 \u03c0\u03c1\u1f78\u03c2 \u03c4\u1f78\u03bd \u03b8\u03b5\u1f78\u03bd \u1f21 \u03b5\u1f50\u03c7\u03ae.[228.2] And Clemens\nmaintains that the true gnostic, he who has the true knowledge of God,\n\u201cworks himself with God in his prayer so as to attain\nperfection.\u201d[228.3] The gnostic of Clemens, then, is not purely\npetitionary in his prayer; by his spontaneous self-projection he\ncontributes something himself to the attainment of the end he prays\nfor; and, as I have ventured to suggest above, we may discern in this\ntheory the meeting-point of the more primitive and the more exalted\nreligious views.\n\nMeantime the actual heretic sect of the gnostics were applying much of\nthe old magic {229} under new names and new texts, and did not even\ncare to discard wholly the old spell-nomenclature.[229.1] And even in\nthe orthodox churches, as we have seen, the mystic power and\nliturgical use of the name has continued, being the inheritance of a\ndifferent religious world from that with which we are familiar or of\nwhich we are conscious. We may also legitimately compare many of the\nritual acts which accompany prayer, for instance in the earlier and\nlater Roman Church, with the suggestive or mimetic religious actions\nof less advanced cults. One of the most interesting examples that may\nbe quoted is the description of the blessing of the baptismal water on\nthe eve of the Epiphany, a custom prevalent in the earlier Church of\nRome:[229.2] the priest, while praying to God to sanctify the water,\ndipped a crucifix thrice into it, recalling in his prayer the miracle\ndescribed in Exodus, the sweetening of the bitter water with wood;\nthen {230} followed antiphonal singing describing Christ\u2019s baptism in\nJordan, which sanctified the water. We appear to have here a\ncombination of the great typical forms of the immemorial religious\nenergy, prayer pure and simple, the potent use of the spiritually\ncharged object, the fetich (in this case the crucifix), and an intoned\nor chanted narrative which has the spell-value of suggestion.[230.1]\n\nWhat maintained the use of the spell-prayer in full vigour throughout\nthe earlier and medieval epochs of Christendom, even in the orthodox\nritual, was chiefly the practice of exorcism and the belief in demons\nand demoniac possession; and the legal institution of the ordeal\ncontributed also to its maintenance. As modern society has abandoned\nsuch institutions, and the modern mind is no longer possessed with\ndemonology, so in the modern worship prayer has become more and more\npurified from the associations of the spell; the traces that remain of\nthe latter are {231} faint and usually unintelligible to the modern\nworshipper. And on the other side there is a progressive tendency\nbeginning to be felt, making for a reform of our liturgy in respect of\nthe objects for which prayer should be proffered. But in this respect,\nas the comparison has shown, we cannot be said to have advanced as yet\nbeyond many of the old-world religions.\n\nThe special subjects of these last two lectures, the history of\npurification and prayer, have only been presented in an inadequate\nsketch. The full and exhaustive treatment of either would serviceably\nfill a gap in the library of comparative religion. But they have\nserved my present purpose, if they have been able to illustrate and to\nsome extent test the value of the comparative study of the various\ntheologies of mankind.\n\n [The End]\n\n\n\n\n INDEX\n\nAion, 36, 37.\n\nAnthropology, value of, 5: occasional defects in its method of\ntreating religious problems, 12-17: suggested improvements in method,\n17-23.\n\nApostolic succession, 49-50.\n\n\nBabylonian spells and prayers, 218-224.\n\nBaptism, a cathartic ritual, 156-158: of infants, 56-57.\n\nBuddhism, ideas concerning purity, 107.\n\n\nCelibacy of priesthood, 154-156.\n\nChristianity, comparison with earlier \u201cMediterranean\u201d religions in\nmythology, 25-30; in terminology, 30-39; external symbols, 39-48;\ninstitutions and organisation, 48-58; in dogma and belief, 59-75:\n_vide_ Prayer.\n\nCollideriani, 72.\n\nComparative religion, method of study, 81-85: short survey of its\ngrowth, 1-6.\n\nConfession, 54-56, 158-160.\n\nCursing-ritual, a form of spell, 196-198.\n\n\nEschatological beliefs, 63-64.\n\n\nFasting, a cathartic ritual, 153-154.\n\nFestivals, influence of pagan on Christian, 58.\n\nFetichism, 44-47: in Hellas, 44-45: in Christianity, 45-47.\n\n\nHellenism, influence on Christianity, 23.\n\nHero-worship, 75-76.\n\nHilaria, 62.\n\nHomicide, cathartic origin of law concerning, 140-152.\n\nHuman incarnation of divinity, 59-60.\n\n{233}\n\nHuman sacrifice, legends concerning, 27-28.\n\n\nIdolatry, 40-44.\n\nIndo-Germanic spell, 193.\n\nIschtar, legend of, 29.\n\n\nKalevala, 184, 191.\n\nKore, 33: gnostic-pagan worship of, 34-35, 65.\n\n\nMariolatry, 65, 69, 72.\n\nMexican religion, 3.\n\nMontanism, 67.\n\nMother of God, 38, 66.\n\n\nNames, religious influence of, 32, 184-192.\n\n\nParthenos, 37-38: _cf._ 65, 69, 70.\n\nPeruvian religion, 3.\n\nPhrygian religion, 24, 62, 66-68.\n\nPrayer (_vide_ Spell) definition of, 165: distinction between prayer\nand spell, 167-169: antagonism between them, 193-194: objects of\nprayer, progress from material to spiritual, 173-174: prayer a form of\ncommunion with the deity, 174: Christian theory of prayer, 227-228:\nsurvival of spell in Christian liturgy, 228-230: Egyptian prayer, 188;\ndominated by spell, 224-227: English, earliest example of\nspell-prayer, 194: Eleusinian spell-prayer, 194: Hellenic prayer, 187,\n200-205, 207; Hellenic spells, 196; spell prayer, 199-200; theory of\nprayer in Hellenic philosophy, 206: Iranian liturgical magic, 199;\nprayers and spells in Zarathustrian ritual, 213-218: Latin prayer,\n185: Roman spell-prayer, 195: Peruvian prayer, 183 n. 3: savage\nexamples of real prayer, 182-183: Umbrian prayer, 186: Vedic\nspell-formul\u00e6 combined with prayer, 208-213.\n\nPurification: primitive ideas concerning pure and impure substances,\n89-91: analysis of primitive sensation of impurity, 92-98:\npurification after battle, 94; after funerals, 96: logical development\nof idea of purity, 98-101: psychological effect of impure contact,\n102-103: purity connected with belief in spirits, 103-104; dualism of\ngood and evil spirits, 105: with belief in gods, 106: earliest concept\nnon-moral, 110-111: evolution of idea of \u201cpure heart,\u201d 111-115:\ncathartic sacrifice, 120-122: opposition between spiritual and\nritualistic {234} purity, 123: Iranian ideas, 97, 101, 107, 115,\n127-132: Jewish, 124, 126: Hellenic, 132-139; influence on Hellenic\nlaw, 140-152: influence of idea of purity on religious institutions,\n152-160.\n\n\nRebirth, mystic sense of, 57.\n\nResurrection, belief in, 60-62: resurrection of divinity, 68.\n\n\nSacrifice, 64, 120-122.\n\nSaint-worship, 77.\n\nSavagery, survival of, in higher religion, 10, 11, 15, 17.\n\nScapegoat, cathartic use of, 119, 120.\n\nSpell, examples of spell-prayer, 169, 170, 175, 180: spell-value of\nthe name in lower and higher religions, 184-192: use of narrative as a\nspell-form of suggestion (Navajo prayer), 181-182: knowledge of origin\nof person or substance useful for spell-purposes, 190-193: progress\nfrom spell to prayer, 171-173.\n\n\nTeutonic religion, 41, 51, 53, 55, 57, 78-80: ideas of purity,\n107-109.\n\nThiasoi, 48-49.\n\nTotemism, 13.\n\nTransference of sin, 116-119.\n\nTrinitarian ideas, 73-74.\n\n\nVirginity, exaltation of, 70-71.\n\n\n\n\n ENDNOTES\n\n LECTURES I AND II NOTES\n\n[3.1] Garcilasso de la Vega, _Royal Commentary of the Incas_ (Hakluyt\nSociety): Sahagun--transl. Jourdanet et Sim\u00e9on.\n\n[3.2] Jacob Laskowski, _vide_ Usener, _G\u00f6tternamen_, p. 82, etc.\n\n[6.1] _Golden Bough_, 2nd ed., vol. iii. p. 186.\n\n[13.1] For instance, an ancestor may for certain reasons be worshipped\nin the form of a snake, and yet this need not imply a snake-tribe or\nany tribal worship of snakes in general.\n\n[26.1] _Vide infra_, pp. 192, 193.\n\n[26.2] _E.g._ _De Civ. Dei._, bk. 2, ch. 6: deos paganorum nunquam\nbene vivendi sanxisse doctrinam.\n\n[27.1] Plutarch, _Parallela_, 35. _Vide_ my _Cults of Greek States_,\nvol. i. p. 93.\n\n[28.1] Servius, _\u00c6n._ iii. 121.\n\n[28.2] _Ibid._, ii. 801.\n\n[29.1] _Sacred Books of the East_, vol. iv. (ed. Mills), p. 211.\n\n[29.2] _Vide_ account of these in _Revue des \u00c9tudes grecques_, xiii.\n(1900), p. 233, and _Annuaire de l\u2019Association pour l\u2019encouragement\ndes \u00c9tudes grecques_, 1871, p. 92.\n\n[31.1] _Protrept._, 12, \u00a7 120 (p. 92 P).\n\n[33.1] I have noticed the evidence of this in my forthcoming third\nvolume of the _Cults of the Greek States_.\n\n[34.1] _C.I.G._, 4697.\n\n[34.2] _Haeres._ 51, 22; Dindorf, vol. ii. p. 483, 12-29: _vide_\nPhilologus, 16, p. 354. I find that the view I have taken of this\nimportant text agrees on the whole with that of Usener in his\n_Untersuchungen_, p. 27.\n\n[37.1] That Aion was a real figure of Mithraic religion has been\nfinally proved by the _Mithras-Liturgie_, published by Dieterich, p.\n4, l. 21.\n\n[37.2] Usener quotes a few examples from the liturgy of the Greek\nChurch and one or two from patristic literature, _Religionsgesch_.\n_Untersuchungen_, 1, p. 28, n. 5: some of these are poetical.\n\n[38.1] _Vide_ Artemis R. 37, in my _Cults of the Greek States_, vol.\nii. p. 567.\n\n[38.2] Paus. 4, 33, 4: inscription in Dittenberger, _Sylloge_(2), 653.\n\n[38.3] Vide _Report of American School at Athens_, vol. i., inscr. No.\nxxvi.\n\n[39.1] _Vide_ chapter on Cybele in the forthcoming third volume of my\n_Cults of the Greek States_.\n\n[42.1] _Anth. Pal._ xi. 269, \u201cI am Heracles, the triumphant son of\nZeus; I am not Luke, but they compel me.\u201d\n\n[42.2] _Ephemeris Archaiologik\u00e9_, 1900, \u03c0\u03af\u03bd. 5.\n\n[43.1] Theocritus, _Id._ 7, 106.\n\n[43.2] _Cults of Greek States_, vol. ii. p. 735: R. 25b.\n\n[44.1] _Cf._ the method of Greco-Egyptian magic of strangling birds\nbefore the idol of Eros, in order that their breath may animate it,\nmentioned in an Abraxas papyrus, _Class. Rev._ 1896, p. 409.\n\n[45.1] _Vide_ Schrader, _Real-Lexikon_, _s.v._ Eid.\n\n[45.2] _Ad Nat._ i. 12.\n\n[47.1] The _Tatu_, _Tat_, or _Ded_ pillar erected in the ritual of\nOsiris, perhaps as a symbol of the resurrection of the god, had the\nform of a cross: _vide_ Frazer, _Golden Bough_(2), ii. p. 141.\n\n[48.1] Vide _Palace of Knossos_: Provisional Report for year 1903, p.\n92: the writer quotes Babylonian and Assyrian examples.\n\n[49.1] Epist. 395: the doctrines of the Orphic sects from the fourth\ncentury B.C. onwards also emphasised the kinship of man with God, as\nthe well-known Orphic tablets, found in South Italy and Crete, reveal\n(_Hell. Journ._ 3, p. 112: Miss J. Harrison, _Prolegomena to the Study\nof Greek Religion_: Appendix by Prof. Murray, p. 660). In the\npseudo-Platonic _Axiochus_, p. 371 D, the sick man is assured of\nsalvation as being \u201cof the family of God\u201d \u03b3\u03b5\u03bd\u03bd\u03ae\u03c4\u03b7\u03c2 \u03c4\u1ff6\u03bd \u03b8\u03b5\u1ff6\u03bd.\n\n[50.1]\n_E.g._ a priest of Megalopolis, a hierophantes of the Great Goddesses,\nis spoken of as descended from \u201cthose who first established the mystic\nworship of the Great Goddesses among the Arcadians,\u201d _Eph. Archaiol._\n1896, p. 122: the priests of Poseidon at Halikarnassos traced their\ndescent from those who brought his cult from Troezen at the foundation\nof the city, _C.I.G._ 2655.\n\n[50.2] At Cos, _vide_ Paton and Hicks, _Inscriptions of Cos_, No. 103\n(Roman Imperial period).\n\n[51.1] _E.g._ the priest of Cybele at Pessinus, and the priest of Ma\nin the two Comanas.\n\n[52.1] _Vide_ Golther, _Handbuch der germanischen Mythologie_, p. 612,\n617.\n\n[53.1] _Vide_ my paper in the _Archiv f\u00fcr Religionswissenschaft_,\n1904, on \u201cThe Position of Women in Ancient Religion.\u201d\n\n[54.1] _Vide infra_, p. 72.\n\n[54.2] See King, _Babylonian Religion_, p. 211.\n\n[55.1] _Vide_ chapter on \u201cApollo Cult\u201d in my forthcoming fourth volume\nof _Cults_.\n\n[55.2] Plutarch, _Apophtheg. Lacon._ p. 229 D: Lysander is told by the\npriest that before initiation he must confess his worst sin: he asks\nif this was the gods\u2019 command or the priests\u2019, and on hearing that it\nwas the gods who enjoined it, he replied, \u201cThen do you stand aside and\nI will tell the gods if they ask me.\u201d\n\n[55.3] _Opp. Ep._ 96.\n\n[55.4] _Vide_ Herzog, _Real-Encyclop\u00e4die_, _s.v._ _Beichte_.\n\n[56.1] Jourdanet et Sim\u00e9on, p. 24.\n\n[57.1] Heszch, _s.v._ \u1f08\u03bc\u03c6\u03b9\u03b4\u03c1\u03cc\u03bc\u03b9\u03b1.\n\n[57.2] _Vide_ Golther, _op. cit._ p. 555.\n\n[57.3] _Polit._ p. 1336 B.\n\n[57.4] In the Attis Mysteries the reborn and initiated were fed on\nmilk--Sallustius, _De Diis et Mundo_, 4: for a careful treatment of\nthe whole question, _vide_ Dieterich, _Eine Mithras-Liturgie_, pp.\n157-178: for various savage parallels showing the prevalence in\nprimitive societies of the idea of death and rebirth at initiation,\n_vide_ Frazer, _Golden Bough_, vol. iii. pp. 424-446.\n\n[58.1] _Vide_ Herzog, _Real-Encycl._, xii. p. 319.\n\n[58.2] _Vide_ Trede, _Das Heidenthum in der r\u00f6mischen Kirche_, vol. i.\np. 280, \u201cNeue und alte Fest-Lust.\u201d\n\n[60.1] _Vide_ Frazer\u2019s _Golden Bough, passim_, especially vol. ii. pp.\n115-168 (death and resurrection in rites of Adonis, Attis, Osiris,\nDionysos), and vol. iii. pp. 138-200: _cf._ articles by Bernard Cook\nin _Classical Review_, 1903, 1904, on \u201cZeus Jupiter and the Oak\u201d: we\nmust distinguish between the simulated death of the divine effigy, and\nthe simulated or real death of the human representative of divinity.\nIn Hellenic religion we can trace the idea in the worship of Pan, in\nthe legends and ritual of Artemis-Iphigenia and Aphrodite, vide _Cults\nof the Greek States_, vol. ii. pp. 440-442, 650-652, and in the Cretan\nworship of Zeus, vol. i. pp. 36-38: but it had lost its vitality in\nthe purely Hellenic cults of the classical period, and was only real\nand energetic in the legends and ritual of Adonis and Dionysos.\n\n[61.1] _Vide_ Dio Chrys., vol. ii. p. 16 (Dindorf), and K. O. M\u00fcller\u2019s\n_Sardon und Sardanapal_ (_Kleine Schriften_, vol. ii. p. 100): on a\ncoin published in British Museum Catalogue, \u201cLycaonia,\u201d etc., pl.\nxxxiii. 2, p. 180, we see the god on his lion standing on what may be\nhis pyre.\n\n[62.1] _Vide_ especially Hippol., _Ref. Haeres._ 5, p. 118 (Miller):\nMacrob., _Saturn._ 1, 21, 7: Arnobius, _Adv. Gent._ 5, 7, 16; 7, 49:\nJulian, _Or._ 5, 168 C.\n\n[62.2] _De error._ c. 22.\n\n[63.1] For the Greek origin of the Christian apocalyptical literature,\n_vide_ Dieterich, _Beitrage zur Erkl\u00e4rung der neu-entdeckten Petrus\nApokalypse_, Leipzig, 1893. The clearest trace of Orphic influence on\nhistoric Christianity is the doctrine of purgatory, which was\npopularised for the later ages by Vergil\u2019s VIth _\u00c6neid_: _vide_\nespecially the purgatorial theory in Servius\u2019 Commentary, _\u00c6n._ vi.\n741.\n\n[65.1] _Hibbert Journal_, January 1904.\n\n[66.1] Alexis in Stob\u00e6us, _Florileg._ (Meineke), vol. iii. p. 83.\n\n[67.1] _Vide_ Herzog, _Real-Encycl._, _s.v._ \u201cMontanismus\u201d: _cf._ the\narticle there on \u201cMaria\u201d and the chapter in Trede, _op. cit._ vol.\nii., \u201cDie grosse Mutter.\u201d\n\n[68.1] Euseb. _v. Const._, iii. 43, 2.\n\n[69.1] Vide _Cults of the Greek States_, pp. 650-652.\n\n[69.2] One of the Babylonian goddesses is addressed in the same hymn\nas \u201cMother, wife, and maid,\u201d Jastrow, _Relig. Babyl. Assyr._, p. 459.\n\n[70.1] Vide _Cults of the Greek States_, vol. ii., Artemis, R 133:\n_cf._ Paus. 8, 13, 1.\n\n[70.2] I am treating this question in an appendix to the Cybele\nchapter in vol. iii. of my _Cults_, etc.\n\n[71.1] _E.g._ fragment of Naumachius in Stob\u00e6us, _op. cit._, vol.\niii. pp. 16-17.\n\n[72.1] _Vide_ specially Trede, _Das Heidenthum in der r\u00f6mischen\nKirche_: Renan, _Les origines du christianisme_, vol. vii. 572-573.\nThe resemblances are particularly striking between the Catholic and\nthe Isiac sacerdotalism.\n\n[72.2] H\u00e6res., 79.\n\n[72.3] Herod., 4, 33.\n\n[73.1] _Cf._ the prayer to Ninlil or Belit (a parallel form to\nIschtar) of Asarhaddon, \u201cmay the lips of Nin-lil, the Mother of the\nGreat God, utter daily a gracious word before Aschur for the King of\nAssyria\u201d (Jastrow, _op. cit._ p. 525). Mary was chiefly worshipped in\nthe same way as an intercessor.\n\n[73.2] For the identity of Father and Son in the later Mithraic\ncult-dogma, _vide_ Dieterich, _Eine Mithras-Liturgie_, p. 68: for the\nTrinitarian idea in Mithraism, _vide_ Cumont, _Die Mysterien von\nMithra_ (_deutsche Ausgabe_), pp. 96, 145: Mr Cook endeavours to trace\nit in the old Pelasgian cult of Zeus, _Class. Rev._ 1903, 1904: vide\n_Hell. Journ._, 1901, p. 139, for Trinitarian symbolism in\nCarthaginian worship. (Note a certain mystic sanctity attached to the\ntriad in later Greek philosophy, _e.g._ in Porphyry, Serv., Verg.,\n_Ecl._, 5, 66: Io. Lydus, _de Mens._, 2, 19.)\n\n[74.1] _Sacred Books of the East_, vol. xxxi. pt. iii. p. 278.\n\n[75.1] Vide _Cults of the Greek States_, vol. i. p. 306.\n\n\n\n\n LECTURE III NOTES\n\n[91.1] _De Mysteriis_, 5, 23.\n\n[97.1] _Sacred Books of the East_, vol. iv., Zend-Avesta, pt. i. pp.\n58-59.\n\n[99.1] _E.g._ onions, pease-soup, cheese: I-Tsing, _Records of the\nBuddhist Religion_, p. 138, \u201conions have a foul smell and are impure\u201d:\n_cf._ list of impure substances in ritual inscription of Rhodes,\n_C.I.G. Ins. Mar. \u00c6g._ i. No. 789.\n\n[99.2] _Sacred Books of the East_, Zend-Avesta, pt. i. p. 105.\n\n[101.1] _C.I.A._, 3, 73.\n\n[101.2] The purifying power that ashes possess in certain ritual may\nbe derivative from fire.\n\n[103.1] _Op. cit._, pt. i. p. 120.\n\n[104.1] _E.g. op. cit._, pp. 201, 204.\n\n[105.1] _E.g._ Porphyry in Euseb., _Pr\u00e6p. Evang._, 4, 22.\n\n[106.1] Steinmetz, _Die Entwickelung der Strafe_, vol. ii. p. 355.\n\n[106.2] _Cf._ \u201cYe shall be holy, for I am holy,\u201d Lev. xi. 44;\nDeuteron. xxiii. 12.\n\n[107.1] Jastrow, _op. cit._, p. 500.\n\n[108.1] _Germania_, c. 40.\n\n[108.2] Golther, _op. cit._ p. 570.\n\n[108.3] Golther, _op. cit._ p. 607.\n\n[112.1] Casalis, _Les Bassoutos_, p. 269: among the Zulus, sin and\ndirt are spoken of as the same,--\u201cYou have dirt, you are dirty\u201d = \u201cYou\nhave done wrong,\u201d Leslie, _Among the Zulus_, p. 170. (These and other\nreferences to the evidence from savage society I owe to the kindness\nof my friend Mr R. Marett.)\n\n[113.1] P. 301.\n\n[114.1] Andoc., _De Myst._, 110.\n\n[115.1] _Op. cit._, p. 102.\n\n[116.1] The same kind of ceremonious logic inspires the practice of\nthe Damaras, who, when making peace with an alien tribe, go into a\nriver with their foes and throw water into their faces to wash away\nenmity.--Sir J. E. Alexander, _Expedition and Discoveries_, vol. ii.\np. 171.\n\n[117.1] Veniaminoff ap. Petroff, _Alaska_, p. 158.\n\n[117.2] Molina, _Fables and Rites of the Yncas_ (Hakluyt Society), p.\n22.\n\n[118.1] Lev. xvii.\n\n[118.2] 2, 39.\n\n[119.1] The cathartic process of transference applied to plague as\nwell as actual sin, _e.g._ Aristotle, _Frag._, 454, transference of\ndisease into a raven.\n\n[119.2] Serv., _\u00c6n._ 3, 57.\n\n[120.1] In modern India a criminal and his wife sometimes undertake to\ntransfer into their own persons the sins of the Rajah and the Rani:\n_Anthrop. Journ._, 1901, p. 302.\n\n[120.2] _Vide_ chapter on Apollo Ritual, _Cults_, vol. iv.\n\n[121.1] _Cf._ Blood-purification in Vedic ritual, Hillebrandt,\n_Vedische Opfer und Zauber_, p. 179 (evil spirits driven away by a\nreed dipped in blood of the sacrifice, p. 176): in the Lupercalia at\nRome the foreheads of youths were smeared with the blood of the\nsacrificed goat and dog and then wiped with wool dipped in milk,\nprobably a piacular ceremony; _vide_ W. Fowler, _The Roman Festivals_,\np. 311.\n\n[121.2] _Cf._ Apollon. Rhod., 4, 478, for pig\u2019s blood in purification\nfrom murder.\n\n[122.1] Numbers c. 19.\n\n[124.1] Levit. xvi. 2.\n\n[125.1] Numbers xxxi. 19.\n\n[125.2] Numbers xxxv.\n\n[125.3] Numbers xxxv. 25.\n\n[126.1] Deuteron. xxi.\n\n[127.1] _Sacred Books of the East_, vol. iv. part i. p. 81.\n\n[128.1] _Sacred Books of the East_, vol. iv. part i. p. 204.\n\n[128.2] _Ib._ p. 88.\n\n[128.3] _Ib._ p. 136.\n\n[129.1] _Sacred Books of the East_, vol. iv. p. 28.\n\n[130.1] _Sacred Books of the East_, vol. iv. p. 56; _cf._ p. 141.\n\n[130.2] The virtue of chastity is religious rather than ethical; the\ncourtesan is reprobated because she mingles the seed of believers and\nunbelievers alike, _ib._ p. 205. Yet the Zarathustrian system escaped\nthe extravagant exaltation of mere virginity that is found in early\nChristian literature: \u201cthe man who has a wife is far above him who\nlives in continence\u201d (Fargard, iv.-iii. _b_, p. 46).\n\n[131.1] _Sacred Books_, vol. iv. p. 216.\n\n[131.2] _Ib._ p. 216.\n\n[132.1] _Sacred Books_, vol. iv. p. 87.\n\n[135.1] Livy, 40, 6, 1-3: the whole host was led between the severed\nlimbs of a dog.\n\n[135.2] Herod., 8, 27.\n\n[136.1] Plutarch, _Qu\u00e6st. Gr\u00e6c._, 24.\n\n[136.2] Stob\u00e6us, _Florileg._ Meineke, vol. ii. p. 184.\n\n[137.1] Mullach, _Frag. Philos._, Adespota.\n\n[137.2] _Anth. Pal._, 14, 71.\n\n[137.3] _Ib._ No. 74.\n\n[138.1] Wilamowitz, _Isyllos_, 6; _Anth. Pal._, Adespota, ccxxxiii.\n_b_: _cf._ inscription from Astypalaia in Collitz,\n_Dialect-Inschriften_, No. 3472.\n\n[138.2] _C.I.G. Ins. Mar. \u00c6g._ 1, 789.\n\n[139.1] In Ne\u00e6ram, \u00a7 85.\n\n[139.2] Clem. Alex., _Strom._, 619, Pott.\n\n[140.1] I believe that the trial scene on the shield of Achilles,\nrightly interpreted, implies that the community are beginning to\ndecide whether the avenger shall accept the were-gilt or not.\n\n[142.1] _Die Entwickelung der Strafe_, vol. ii. p. 347.\n\n[143.1] An example is given by Steinmetz, _op. cit._ ii. p. 336, of\nthe punishment of incest among the _Pasemaher_: the guilty pair were\nburied alive with a hollow pipe reaching from their mouths to the top\nof the earth: if they survived seven days of this agony their lives\nwere spared: no explanation is offered, but it is not improbable that\nthe law is inspired by the idea that the earth could absorb their\nimpurity.\n\n[144.1] _Sacred Books_, vol. iv. p. 169 (pt. i.).\n\n[145.1] Vide _Cults of the Greek States_, vol. i. pp. 66-69:\nSteinmetz, _op. cit._, vol. ii. p. 345, discusses a record concerning\nthe Ossetes, who live habitually in the system of the blood-feud, to\nthe effect that a person guilty of parricide was surrounded and burnt\nin his house by the whole people, and he suggests that this may be the\nfirst example among them of a State cognisance of murder.\n\n[147.1] Antiphon, _Or._ 6, p. 764: _cf._ Eurip., _Hecuba_, pp.\n291-292.\n\n[148.1] Demosthenes, _c. Aristocrat._, pp. 643-644.\n\n[148.2] Antiphon, p. 686.\n\n[149.1] Plato, _Laws_, 873 A-B: Demosth., _c. Euerg._, p. 1160.\n\n[149.2] P. 749; _cf._ 764.\n\n[149.3] _Laws_, pp. 854, 865.\n\n[149.4] Demosthenes, _c. Aristocrat._, p. 643.\n\n[149.5] Antiphon, p. 709.\n\n[150.1] Demosthenes, _op. cit._, p. 645: _cf._ the account in\nPausanias, 5, 27, 10, of the purification by the Eleans at Olympia of\nthe bronze ox which had caused the death of a boy.\n\n[151.1] Drako appears to have systematised it, but it may have existed\nas custom-law before his period.\n\n[151.2] Paus., 1, 19, 1; 1, 28, 10: Plut., _vit. Thes._, 12, 18:\nDemosth., _c. Aristocrat._, 74.\n\n[152.1] We note the legend that purification was refused to Ixion, and\nthe express statement that no one would purify King Pausanias from his\nbrutal crime against the Olynthian maiden.\n\n[152.2] The procedure by ordeal, prevalent in the ancient world and\ncommon among contemporary savages, is probably derived from an\nanimistic conception of purity: the primitive theory appears to be\nthat, if the person is innocent, the pure spirit within him makes his\nbody able to resist the trial, and is not dependent upon any idea of a\nhigher god of righteousness. The ordeal procedure is very common in\nAfrican society: Post, _Afrikanisch. Jurisprud._, 2, p. 110.\n\n[154.1] _E.g._ the Eleusinian, Mithraic, and Phrygian Mysteries: for\nexamples of it in savage initiation rites, see _Annual Report\nSmithsonian Institute_, 1899-1900, p. 435.\n\n[157.1] Sahagun, Jourdanet, pp. xxxix. and 455.\n\n[157.2] _Vide supra_, p. 57.\n\n[157.3] Vide _Archiv f\u00fcr Religionswissenschaft_, 1904, pp. 401-409.\n\n[158.1] Duchesne, _Origines du culte Chr\u00e9tien_, transl. by M\u2019Clure, p.\n296.\n\n[159.1] Sahagun, _op. cit._, pp. 340-341.\n\n[159.2] _Vide_ Herzog, _Real-Encyclop._, _s.v._ _Beichte._\n\n[160.1] King, _Babylonian Religion_, p. 212.\n\n[160.2] _Vide_ Von der Goltz, _Das Gebet_, p. 297: Cabrol, _Pri\u00e8re\nAntique_, p. 316: the aspersion with holy water in the present Roman\nritual does not seem to have been obligatory in the early period:\n_vide_ Duchesne, _Origines_, p. 404, Engl. transl.\n\n\n\n\n LECTURE IV NOTES\n\n[164.1] An interesting and original contribution to the solution of\nthe question will be found in a recent paper by Mr R. Marett in\n_Folk-Lore_, 1904, \u201cFrom Spell to Prayer.\u201d\n\n[166.1] _Vide_ A. Lang, _The Making of Religion_.\n\n[167.1] Vide _Anthropolog. Journ._, 1904, p. 165.\n\n[169.1] R. Marett, _op. cit._, p. 145.\n\n[170.1] _Man_, 1902, p. 104.\n\n[170.2] Frazer, _Golden Bough_(2) iii. 83.\n\n[170.3] Plutarch, 693 F.\n\n[170.4] At the Anthesteria, Photius, _s.v._ \u03b8\u03cd\u03c1\u03b1\u03b6\u03b5 \u03ba\u1fc6\u03c1\u03b5\u03c2: Hesych.,\n_s.v._\n\n[171.1] Frazer, _op. cit._, iii. 98: _vide_ Marett, _op. cit._, p.\n163.\n\n[171.2] _Primitive Culture_, vol. ii. (concluding chapter).\n\n[175.1] Marett, _op. cit._, p. 152.\n\n[176.1] Tylor, _op. cit._, ii. p. 334.\n\n[176.2] Frazer, _Golden Bough_,(2) vol. ii. p. 212.\n\n[177.1] _Annual Report of Smithsonian Institute_, \u201cStudy of Sioux\nCults, by Dorsey,\u201d 1899-1900, p. 381, etc.\n\n[178.1] _Peabody Museum Reports_, vol. iii. p. 276, etc.\n\n[178.2] _Annual Report Smithsonian Institute_, 1899-1900, pp. 420-421.\n\n[178.3] Tylor, _op. cit._, ii. p. 331.\n\n[178.4] _Folk-Lore_, 1904, p. 168: _Toda Prayer_, W. H. R. Rivers.\n\n[179.1] Published by Carl Sapper in _N\u00f6rdliches Mittel-Amerika_, vide\n_Archiv f\u00fcr vergl. Relig. Wiss._, 1904, p. 468.\n\n[180.1] Budge, _Egyptian Magic_, p. 49.\n\n[180.2] Jastrow, _Religion Babyloniens Assyriens_, p. 490: _cf._ the\nformula in the prayer of one of the early kings to the goddess\nGa-t\u00fam-dug: \u201cI have no mother--Thou art my mother: I have no\nfather--Thou art my father,\u201d Jastrow, p. 395.\n\n[180.3] _Sacred Books_, vol. xlvi. p. 23.\n\n[181.1] Vol. I.\n\n[183.1] Tylor, _Prim. Cult._, ii. p. 333.\n\n[183.2] Tylor, _op. cit._, ii. p. 335.\n\n[183.3] I have only space to make a summary reference here to the very\nnoteworthy collection of Peruvian prayers preserved by De Molina,\n_Fables and Rites of the Yncas_, p. 28, etc., 38, 56: they have all\nthe character of pure prayer, and occasionally reach a high spiritual\nlevel: the only appearance of magic is in the sacrifice that\naccompanies the singular petition \u201cthat the Creator and the sun may\nremain ever young.\u201d\n\n[184.1] _Vide_ also Andrian in _Deutsch. Gesellsch. Anthropol._,\nxxvii., 1896, p. 109.\n\n[185.1] Serv., _\u00c6n._, 2, 351.\n\n[185.2] _Fr._ 781, _Phaethon._\n\n[185.3] _Vedic Hymns_ (_Sacred Books_, etc.), pt. ii. p. 378.\n\n[187.1] l. 160: cf. _Plat. Crat._, 400 E., \u201cIt is our custom in our\nprayers to call the gods by whatsoever name they most rejoice to be\ncalled by.\u201d\n\n[187.2] _Vedic Hymns_, pt. ii., pp. 281, 372.\n\n[188.1] Budge, _op. cit._, p. 161.\n\n[188.2] Budge, _op. cit._, pp. 137-141.\n\n[188.3] _Vide_ examples quoted by Ausfeld, _De Gr\u00e6corum\nPrecationibus_, p. 519.\n\n[189.1] Ps. 54, 31.\n\n[189.2] c. 23, v. 21.\n\n[189.3] Joseph, _De bell. Jud._, 2, 8.\n\n[189.4] Acts 8, 16; 19, 5.\n\n[190.1] Von der Goltz, _Das Gebet_, p. 353.\n\n[191.1] _Hymns of the Atharva-Veda_ (_Sacred Books_, etc., xlii. p.\n167).\n\n[191.2] _Vedic Hymns_, pt. ii. p. 391.\n\n[192.1] _Cf._ a formula in an Egyptian papyrus published by Kenyon\n(122, v. 13), \u201cI know thee, Hermes, who thou art and whence thou art\nand what city is the city of Hermes\u201d: quoted by Ausfeld, _op. cit._ p.\n524, _n._ 1.\n\n[193.1] The \u201cMerseburg charm,\u201d old High German tenth-century MS.:\n_cf._ R. Chambers, _Fireside Stories_, Edinburgh, 1842. My attention\nwas called to the great antiquity of this Norse charm by Prof. Napier,\nto whose kindness I owe these references.\n\n[193.2] _Sacred Books_, xlii. p. 20.\n\n[194.1] Golther, _op. cit._, pp. 647-648.\n\n[194.2] In a pre-Conquest Cotton MS. in the British Museum, _vide_\nGrein\u2019s _Bibliothek der \u00e4ngels\u00e4chsischen Poesie_: ed. M\u00fclcker, vol. i.\np. 316.\n\n[195.1] Livy, 22, 10.\n\n[196.1] De Re Rustica, 139, 141: Wordsworth, _Fragments and Specimens\nof Early Latin_, p. 335.\n\n[196.2] Clemens, _Strom._, p. 754, Pott.\n\n[197.1] _Eumen._, 332.\n\n[198.1] Dittenberger, _Sylloge_(2), vol. iii. 816.\n\n[198.2] Post, _Afrikanisch. Jurisprud._, 2, p. 128.\n\n[199.1] Paus., 10, 12, 10.\n\n[200.1] \u03c0\u03bb\u03b5\u1fd6\u03c3\u03c4\u03bf\u03bd \u03bf\u1f56\u03bb\u03bf\u03bd \u1f35\u03b5\u03b9, \u1f34\u03bf\u03c5\u03bb\u03bf\u03bd \u1f35\u03b5\u03b9, Athen\u00e6., 618 E.\n\n[200.2] The song sung by the children, probably an old weather-spell,\ncalled \u03c6\u03b9\u03bb\u03b7\u03bb\u03af\u03b1\u03c2, with the refrain, \u1f14\u03be\u03b5\u03c7\u1fbd \u1f66 \u03c6\u03af\u03bb\u1fbd \u1f25\u03bb\u03b9\u03b5, Pollux, 9, 123,\nAthen\u00e6., 619 B.\n\n[201.1] _Ephem. Archaiol._, 1891, p. 82.\n\n[201.2] Plato, _Alcibiad._, 2, p. 148 C.\n\n[202.1] Collitz, _Dialect-Inschrift._, 1562, 1563, early fourth\ncentury B.C.\n\n[202.2] Collitz, 3648.\n\n[203.1] Roberts, _Greek Epigraphy_, vol. i. p. 304.\n\n[203.2] Nem., 8, 35.\n\n[203.3] Ol., 13, 115.\n\n[203.4] Med., 635.\n\n[203.5] Bergk, _Frag. Lyr. Gr\u00e6c._, vol. iii., Scolia 2.\n\n[204.1] _\u0152con._, 11, 8.\n\n[204.2] _De Superst._, p. 116 D.\n\n[204.3] Plat., _Ph\u00e6dr._, 279 B.\n\n[204.4] Philostr., _Vit. Apoll._, 4, 41.\n\n[205.1] Plat., _Alcib._, 2, p. 143 A.\n\n[205.2] Epictet. (Schenkle), p. 479.\n\n[205.3] _Id._, p. 158.\n\n[205.4] Von der Goltz, _Das Gebet_, p. 292.\n\n[206.1] Diog. Laert. 8, 16, 7: yet, according to Clemens, \u201cThe\nPythagoreans enjoin that prayer should be uttered aloud, so that one\nmight never pray for what one would be ashamed that others should\nhear,\u201d _Strom._, p. 641, Pott.\n\n[206.2] Porphyry ap. Proclus _in Tim._, 2, 64 B: Procl. _in Tim._, 2,\n65: Sallustius, _De Diis et Mundo_, c. 16: _cf._ Max. Tyr., _Dissert._\nxi.\n\n[207.1] Vide _Archiv f\u00fcr vergl. Religionswissensch._, 1904, p. 395.\n\n[207.2] The remarkable ethical fragment of an unknown philosopher,\nEusebios, in Ionic dialect, quoted by Stob\u00e6us, \u03c0\u03b5\u03c1\u1f76 \u1f00\u03c1\u03b5\u03c4\u1fc6\u03c2, \u00a7 85 (vol.\ni. p. 39, Meineke), contains moral aspirations that strikingly\nresemble New Testament doctrine, and may possibly have been intended\nas a prayer, but it contains no appeal to a divinity: he may belong to\nthe Neo-Platonic sect, _vide_ Orelli, _Opusc. Gr\u00e6c. Sentent._, vol.\nii. p. 728.\n\n[208.1] _Vedic Hymns_, pt. ii. p. 61.\n\n[209.1] _E.g._, \u201cProtect our people all around with those undeceived\nguardians of thine, oh Agni,\u201d _ib._, p. 158.\n\n[210.1] Atharva-Veda (_Sacred Books_, vol. xlii. p. 138).\n\n[210.2] _Vedic Hymns_, pt. ii. p. 376.\n\n[210.3] _Ib._, p. 273.\n\n[210.4] _Ib._, p. 383.\n\n[210.5] _Ib._, p. 352.\n\n[211.1] Quoted by Prof. Tylor, _Primitive Culture_, vol. ii. p. 339,\nfrom Rig Veda, vii. 89, 3.\n\n[211.2] _Vedic Hymns_, pt. ii. p. 181.\n\n[211.3] _Ib._, p. 249.\n\n[211.4] _Ib._, p. 354.\n\n[211.5] Atharva-Veda, p. 164.\n\n[212.1] Atharva-Veda, p. 163.\n\n[212.2] _Ib._, p. 165.\n\n[212.3] \u201cBring ye forward an ancient mighty speech to Agni.\u2026 May our\nprayers increase Agni,\u201d _Vedic Hymns_, pt. ii. p. 259: _cf._ p. 391,\n\u201cThe prayers fill thee (oh Agni) with power and strengthen thee, like\ngreat rivers the Sindhu.\u201d\n\n[214.1] _Sacred Books_, etc., vol. iv. (_Zend-Avesta_, pt. i. p. 228).\n\n[214.2] _Ib._, pp. 145-147.\n\n[214.3] _Sacred Books_, etc., vol. xxxi. (_Zend-Avesta_, pt. iii. p.\n262.)\n\n[215.1] _Zend-Avesta_, pt. i. p. 246.\n\n[215.2] _Cf._ the Greek sentiment, \u03b8\u03c5\u03c3\u03af\u03b1 \u1f00\u03c1\u03af\u03c3\u03c4\u03b7 \u03b3\u03bd\u03ce\u03bc\u03b7 \u1f00\u03b3\u03b1\u03b8\u03ae, Joann.\nDamascen., _Sacr. Par._, tit. ix. p. 640.\n\n[215.3] _Zend-Avesta_, pt. iii. p. 247.\n\n[216.1] _Zend-Avesta_, pt. i. p. 138.\n\n[217.1] Pt. i. p. 147.\n\n[217.2] Pt. iii. pp. 33-34.\n\n[217.3] _Ib._, p. 179.\n\n[217.4] _Ib._, p. 106.\n\n[217.5] _Ib._, p. 49.\n\n[218.1] Pt. iii., p. 170.\n\n[218.2] _Archiv f. Religionswiss._, 1904, p. 395.\n\n[218.3] Von der Goltz, _Das Gebet_, p. 288.\n\n[219.1] Jastrow, _Religion Babyloniens w. Assyriens_, vol. i. pp.\n391-393, 423, 427.\n\n[219.2] _Ib._, p. 497.\n\n[219.3] S. Aug., _De Civ. Dei._, 10, 9.\n\n[220.1] King, _Babylonian Religion_, p. 83.\n\n[220.2] Jastrow, _op. cit._, p. 401.\n\n[220.3] _Ib._, p. 402.\n\n[221.1] Jastrow, _op. cit._, p. 408.\n\n[221.2] _Ib._, p. 411.\n\n[221.3] _Ib._, p. 501: the elevated tone of the old Babylonian royal\nliturgy was still preserved under the later Seleukid rule, _vide_ p.\n414.\n\n[222.1] Jastrow, _op. cit._, p. 501.\n\n[222.2] _Ib._, p. 533.\n\n[222.3] _Ib._, p. 536.\n\n[223.1] Jastrow, _op. cit._, p. 509.\n\n[224.1] Jastrow, _op. cit._, pp. 439-440.\n\n[225.1] Budge, _Egyptian Magic_, pp. 108, 110, 120.\n\n[225.2] _Ib._, p. 127.\n\n[226.1] Budge, _Egyptian Magic_, p. 63.\n\n[226.2] _Ib._, p. 119.\n\n[226.3] _Ib._, p. 119.\n\n[227.1] Budge, _Egyptian Magic_, p. 184.\n\n[228.1] Origen, \u03c0\u03b5\u03c1\u1f76 \u03b5\u1f50\u03c7\u1fc6\u03c2, c. 10, 2.\n\n[228.2] Clemens, _Strom._, vii., ch. 7, \u00a7 39, p. 854, Pott.\n\n[228.3] _Ib._, \u00a7 38, p. 853, Pott.\n\n[229.1] _Vide_ Von der Goltz, _op. cit._, p. 310.\n\n[229.2] _Vide_ Usener, _Archiv f\u00fcr Religionswiss._, 1904, p. 293.\n\n[230.1] _Vide supra_, pp. 181-182.\n\n\n\n\n Transcriber\u2019s Notes\n\nThis book is twelfth in the _Crown Theological Library_ series.\n\nPage numbers are given in {curly} brackets.\n\nPlain text version only: endnote markers are given in [square]\nbrackets.\n\nMinor spelling inconsistencies (_e.g._ childbirth/child-birth,\nAhura-Mazda/Ahura Mazda, etc.) have been preserved.\n\nAdd title and author\u2019s name to cover image.\n\nAlterations to the text:\n\nConvert footnotes to endnotes, relabel note markers (append the\noriginal note number to the page number), and add a corresponding\nentry to the TOC.\n\n[Lecture IV]\n\nChange \u201cemploys the same method as the Navajo _Sharman_ employed\u201d to\n_Shaman_.\n\n\u201call evil thoughts, all _evils_ words, all evil deeds I do\nunwillingly\u201d to _evil_.\n\n [End of text]","title":"The evolution of religion : $b An anthropological study","tradition":"scripture-revelation","translated_text":null,"word_count":41434}