§ 1. The Burning of a God.
(M140) Thus it appears that a custom of burning a god in effigy or in the
person of a human representative was practised by at least two peoples of
Western Asia, the Phoenicians and the Hittites. Whether they both
developed the custom independently, or whether one of them adopted it from
the other, we cannot say. And their reasons for celebrating a rite which
to us seems strange and monstrous are also obscure. In the preceding
inquiry some grounds have been adduced for thinking that the practice was
based on a conception of the purifying virtue of fire, which, by
destroying the corruptible and perishable elements of man, was supposed to
fit him for union with the imperishable and the divine. Now to people who
created their gods in their own likeness, and imagined them subject to the
same law of decadence and death, the idea would naturally occur that fire
might do for the gods what it was believed to do for men, that it could
purge them of the taint of corruption and decay, could sift the mortal
from the immortal in their composition, and so endow them with eternal
youth. Hence a custom might arise of subjecting the deities themselves, or
the more important of them, to an ordeal of fire for the purpose of
refreshing and renovating those creative energies on the maintenance of
which so much depended. To the coarse apprehension of the uninstructed and
unsympathetic observer the solemn rite might easily wear a very different
aspect. According as he was of a pious or of a sceptical turn of mind, he
might denounce it as a sacrilege or deride it as an absurdity. “To burn
the god whom you worship,” he might say, “is the height of impiety and of
folly. If you succeed in the attempt, you kill him and deprive yourselves
of his valuable services. If you fail, you have mortally offended him, and
sooner or later he will visit you with his severe displeasure.” To this
the worshipper, if he was patient and polite, might listen with a smile of
indulgent pity for the ignorance and obtuseness of the critic. “You are
much mistaken,” he might observe, “in imagining that we expect or attempt
to kill the god whom we adore. The idea of such a thing is as repugnant to
us as to you. Our intention is precisely the opposite of that which you
attribute to us. Far from wishing to destroy the deity, we desire to make
him live for ever, to place him beyond the reach of that process of
degeneration and final dissolution to which all things here below appear
by their nature to be subject. He does not die in the fire. Oh no! Only
the corruptible and mortal part of him perishes in the flames: all that is
incorruptible and immortal of him will survive the purer and stronger for
being freed from the contagion of baser elements. That little heap of
ashes which you see there is not our god. It is only the skin which he has
sloughed, the husk which he has cast. He himself is far away, in the
clouds of heaven, in the depths of earth, in the running waters, in the
tree and the flower, in the corn and the vine. We do not see him face to
face, but every year he manifests his divine life afresh in the blossoms
of spring and the fruits of autumn. We eat of his broken body in bread. We
drink of his shed blood in the juice of the grape.”
§ 2. The Volcanic Region of Cappadocia.
(M141) Some such train of reasoning may suffice to explain, though
naturally not to justify, the custom which we bluntly call the burning of
a god. Yet it is worth while to ask whether in the development of the
practice these general considerations may not have been reinforced or
modified by special circumstances; for example, by the natural features of
the country where the custom grew up. For the history of religion, like
that of all other human institutions, has been profoundly affected by
local conditions, and cannot be fully understood apart from them. Now Asia
Minor, the region where the practice in question appears to have been
widely diffused, has from time immemorial been subjected to the action of
volcanic forces on a great scale. It is true that, so far as the memory of
man goes back, the craters of its volcanoes have been extinct, but the
vestiges of their dead or slumbering fires are to be seen in many places,
and the country has been shaken and rent at intervals by tremendous
earthquakes. These phenomena cannot fail to have impressed the imagination
of the inhabitants, and thereby to have left some mark on their religion.
(M142) Among the extinct volcanoes of Anatolia the greatest is Mount
Argaeus, in the centre of Cappadocia, the heart of the old Hittite
country. It is indeed the highest point of Asia Minor, and one of the
loftiest mountains known to the ancients; for in height it falls not very
far short of Mount Blanc. Towering abruptly in a huge pyramid from the
plain, it is a conspicuous object for miles on miles. Its top is white
with eternal snow, and in antiquity its lower slopes were clothed with
dense forests, from which the inhabitants of the treeless Cappadocian
plains drew their supply of timber. In these woods, and in the low grounds
at the foot of the mountain, the languishing fires of the volcano
manifested themselves as late as the beginning of our era. The ground was
treacherous. Under a grassy surface there lurked pits of fire, into which
stray cattle and unwary travellers often fell. Experienced woodmen used
great caution when they went to fell trees in the forest. Elsewhere the
soil was marshy, and flames were seen to play over it at night.(565)
Superstitious fancies no doubt gathered thick around these perilous spots,
but what shape they took we cannot say. Nor do we know whether sacrifices
were offered on the top of the mountain, though a curious discovery may
perhaps be thought to indicate that they were. Sharp and lofty pinnacles
of red porphyry, inaccessible to the climber, rise in imposing grandeur
from the eternal snow of the summit, and here Mr. Tozer found that the
rock had been perforated in various places with human habitations. One
such rock-hewn dwelling winds inward for a considerable distance; rude
niches are hollowed in its sides, and on its roof and walls may be seen
the marks of tools.(566) The ancients certainly did not climb mountains
for pleasure or health, and it is difficult to imagine that any motive but
superstition should have led them to provide dwellings in such a place.
These rock-cut chambers may have been shelters for priests charged with
the performance of religious or magical rites on the summit.
§ 3. Fire-Worship in Cappadocia.
(M143) Under the Persian rule Cappadocia became, and long continued to be,
a great seat of the Zoroastrian fire-worship. In the time of Strabo, about
the beginning of our era, the votaries of that faith and their temples
were still numerous in the country. The perpetual fire burned on an altar,
surrounded by a heap of ashes, in the middle of the temple; and the
priests daily chanted their liturgy before it, holding in their hands a
bundle of myrtle rods and wearing on their heads tall felt caps with
cheek-pieces which covered their lips, lest they should defile the sacred
flame with their breath.(567) It is reasonable to suppose that the natural
fires which burned perpetually on the outskirts of Mount Argaeus attracted
the devotion of the disciples of Zoroaster, for elsewhere similar fires
have been the object of religious reverence down to modern times. Thus at
Jualamukhi, on the lower slopes of the Himalayas, jets of combustible gas
issue from the earth; and a great Hindoo temple, the resort of many
pilgrims, is built over them. The perpetual flame, which is of a reddish
hue and emits an aromatic perfume, rises from a pit in the fore-court of
the sanctuary. The worshippers deliver their gifts, consisting usually of
flowers, to the attendant fakirs, who first hold them over the flame and
then cast them into the body of the temple.(568) Again, Hindoo pilgrims
make their way with great difficulty to Baku on the Caspian, in order to
worship the everlasting fires which there issue from the beds of
petroleum. The sacred spot is about ten miles to the north-east of the
city. An English traveller, who visited Baku in the middle of the
eighteenth century, has thus described the place and the worship. “There
are several ancient temples built with stone, supposed to have been all
dedicated to fire; most of them are arched vaults, not above ten to
fifteen feet high. Amongst others there is a little temple, in which the
Indians now worship; near the altar, about three feet high, is a large
hollow cane, from the end of which issues a blue flame, in colour and
gentleness not unlike a lamp that burns with spirits, but seemingly more
pure. These Indians affirm that this flame has continued ever since the
flood, and they believe it will last to the end of the world; that if it
was resisted or suppressed in that place, it would rise in some other.
Here are generally forty or fifty of these poor devotees, who come on a
pilgrimage from their own country, and subsist upon wild sallary, and a
kind of Jerusalem artichoke, which are very good food, with other herbs
and roots, found a little to the northward. Their business is to make
expiation, not for their own sins only, but for those of others; and they
continue the longer time, in proportion to the number of persons for whom
they have engaged to pray. They mark their foreheads with saffron, and
have a great veneration for a red cow.”(569) Thus it would seem that a
purifying virtue is attributed to the sacred flame, since pilgrims come to
it from far to expiate sin.
§ 4. The Burnt Land of Lydia.
(M144) Another volcanic region of Asia Minor is the district of Lydia, to
which, on account of its remarkable appearance, the Greeks gave the name
of the Burnt Land. It lies to the east of Sardes in the upper valley of
the Hermus, and covers an area of about fifty miles by forty. As described
by Strabo, the country was wholly treeless except for the vines, which
produced a wine inferior to none of the most famous vintages of antiquity.
The surface of the plains was like ashes; the hills were composed of black
stone, as if they had been scorched by fire. Some people laid the scene of
Typhon’s battle with the gods in this Black Country, and supposed that it
had been burnt by the thunderbolts hurled from heaven at the impious
monster. The philosophic Strabo, however, held that the fires which had
wrought this havoc were subterranean, not celestial, and he pointed to
three craters, at intervals of about four miles, each in a hill of scoriae
which he supposed to have been once molten matter ejected by the
volcanoes.(570) His observation and his theory have both been confirmed by
modern science. The three extinct volcanoes to which he referred are still
conspicuous features of the landscape. Each is a black cone of loose
cinders, scoriae, and ashes, with steep sides and a deep crater. From each
a flood of rugged black lava has flowed forth, bursting out at the foot of
the cone, and then rushing down the dale to the bed of the Hermus. The
dark streams follow all the sinuosities of the valleys, their sombre hue
contrasting with the rich verdure of the surrounding landscape. Their
surface, broken into a thousand fantastic forms, resembles a sea lashed
into fury by a gale, and then suddenly hardened into stone. Regarded from
the geological point of view, these black cones of cinders and these black
rivers of lava are of comparatively recent formation. Exposure to the
weather for thousands of years has not yet softened their asperities and
decomposed them into vegetable mould; they are as hard and ungenial as if
the volcanic stream had ceased to flow but yesterday. But in the same
district there are upwards of thirty other volcanic cones, whose greater
age is proved by their softened forms, their smoother sides, and their
mantle of vegetation. Some of them are planted with vineyards to their
summits.(571) Thus the volcanic soil is still as favourable to the
cultivation of the vine as it was in antiquity. The relation between the
two was noted by the ancients. Strabo compares the vines of the Burnt Land
with the vineyards of Catania fertilized by the ashes of Mount Etna; and
he tells us that some ingenious persons explained the fire-born Dionysus
as a myth of the grapes fostered by volcanic agency.(572)
§ 5. The Earthquake God.
(M145) But the inhabitants of these regions were reminded of the
slumbering fires by other and less agreeable tokens than the generous
juice of their grapes. For not the Burnt Land only but the country to the
south, including the whole valley of the Maeander, was subject to frequent
and violent shocks of earthquake. The soil was loose, friable, and full of
salts, the ground hollow, undermined by fire and water. In particular the
city of Philadelphia was a great centre of disturbance. The shocks there,
we are told, were continuous. The houses rocked, the walls cracked and
gaped; the few inhabitants were kept busy repairing the breaches or
buttressing and propping the edifices which threatened to tumble about
their ears. Most of the citizens, indeed, had the prudence to dwell
dispersed on their farms. It was a marvel, says Strabo, that such a city
should have any inhabitants at all, and a still greater marvel that it
should ever have been built.(573) However, by a wise dispensation of
Providence, the earthquakes which shook the foundations of their houses
only strengthened those of their faith. The people of Apameia, whose town
was repeatedly devastated, paid their devotions with great fervour to
Poseidon, the earthquake god.(574) Again, the island of Santorin, in the
Greek Archipelago, has been for thousands of years a great theatre of
volcanic activity. On one occasion the waters of the bay boiled and flamed
for four days, and an island composed of red-hot matter rose gradually, as
if hoisted by machinery, above the waves. It happened that the sovereignty
of the seas was then with the Rhodians, those merchant-princes whose
prudent policy, strict but benevolent oligarchy, and beautiful
island-city, rich with accumulated treasures of native art, rendered them
in a sense the Venetians of the ancient world. So when the ebullition and
heat of the eruption had subsided, their sea-captains landed in the new
island, and founded a sanctuary of Poseidon the Establisher or
Securer,(575) a complimentary epithet often bestowed on him as a hint not
to shake the earth more than he could conveniently help.(576) In many
places people sacrificed to Poseidon the Establisher, in the hope that he
would be as good as his name and not bring down their houses on their
heads.(577)
(M146) Another instance of a Greek attempt to quiet the perturbed spirit
underground is instructive, because similar efforts are still made by
savages in similar circumstances. Once when a Spartan army under King
Agesipolis had taken the field, it chanced that the ground under their
feet was shaken by an earthquake. It was evening, and the king was at mess
with the officers of his staff. No sooner did they feel the shock than,
with great presence of mind, they rose from their dinner and struck up a
popular hymn in honour of Poseidon. The soldiers outside the tent took up
the strain, and soon the whole army joined in the sacred melody.(578) It
is not said whether the flute-band, which always played the Spartan
redcoats into action,(579) accompanied the deep voices of the men with its
shrill music. At all events, the intention of this service of praise,
addressed to the earth-shaking god, can only have been to prevail on him
to stop. I have spoken of the Spartan redcoats because the uniform of
Spartan soldiers was red.(580) As they fought in an extended, not a deep,
formation, a Spartan line of battle must always have been, what the
British used to be, a thin red line. It was in this order, and no doubt
with the music playing and the sun flashing on their arms, that they
advanced to meet the Persians at Thermopylae. Like Cromwell’s Ironsides,
these men could fight as well as sing psalms.(581)
(M147) If the Spartans imagined that they could stop an earthquake by a
soldiers’ chorus, their theory and practice resembled those of many other
barbarians. Thus the people of Timor, in the East Indies, think that the
earth rests on the shoulder of a mighty giant, and that when he is weary
of bearing it on one shoulder he shifts it to the other, and so causes the
ground to quake. At such times, accordingly, they all shout at the top of
their voices to let him know that there are still people on the earth; for
otherwise they fear lest, impatient of his burden, he might tip it into
the sea.(582) The Manichaeans held a precisely similar theory of
earthquakes, except that according to them the weary giant transferred his
burden from one shoulder to the other at the end of every thirty
years,(583) a view which, at all events, points to the observation of a
cycle in the recurrence of earthquake shocks. But we are not told that
these heretics reduced an absurd theory to an absurd practice by raising a
shout in order to remind the earth-shaker of the inconvenience he was
putting them to. However, both the theory and the practice are to be found
in full force in various parts of the East Indies. When the Balinese and
the Sundanese feel an earthquake they cry out, “Still alive,” or “We still
live,” to acquaint the earth-shaking god or giant with their
existence.(584) The natives of Leti, Moa, and Lakor, islands of the Indian
Archipelago, imagine that earthquakes are caused by Grandmother Earth in
order to ascertain whether her descendants are still to the fore. So they
make loud noises for the purpose of satisfying her grandmotherly
solicitude.(585) The Tami of German New Guinea ascribe earthquakes to a
certain old Panku who sits under a great rock; when he stirs, the earth
quakes. If the shock lasts a long time they beat on the ground with
palm-branches, saying, “You down there! easy a little! We men are still
here.”(586) The Shans of Burma are taught by Buddhist monks that under the
world there sleeps a great fish with his tail in his mouth, but sometimes
he wakes, bites his tail, and quivering with pain causes the ground to
quiver and shake likewise. That is the cause of great earthquakes. But the
cause of little earthquakes is different. These are produced by little men
who live underground and sometimes feeling lonely knock on the roof of the
world over their heads; these knockings we perceive as slight shocks of
earthquakes. When Shans feel such a shock, they run out of their houses,
kneel down, and answer the little men saying, “We are here! We are
here!”(587) Earthquakes are common in the Pampa del Sacramento of Eastern
Peru. The Conibos, a tribe of Indians on the left bank of the great
Ucayali River, attribute these disturbances to the creator, who usually
resides in heaven, but comes down from time to time to see whether the
work of his hands still exists. The result of his descent is an
earthquake. So when one happens, these Indians rush out of their huts with
extravagant gestures shouting, as if in answer to a question, “A moment, a
moment, here I am, father, here I am!” Their intention is, no doubt, to
assure their heavenly father that they are still alive, and that he may
return to his mansion on high with an easy mind. They never remember the
creator nor pay him any heed except at an earthquake.(588) In Africa the
Atonga tribe of Lake Nyassa used to believe that an earthquake was the
voice of God calling to inquire whether his people were all there. So when
the rumble was heard underground they all shouted in answer, “_Ye, ye_,”
and some of them went to the mortars used for pounding corn and beat on
them with pestles. They thought that if any one of them did not thus
answer to the divine call he would die.(589) In Ourwira the people think
that an earthquake is caused by a dead sultan marching past underground;
so they stand up to do him honour, and some raise their hands to the
salute. Were they to omit these marks of respect to the deceased, they
would run the risk of being swallowed up alive.(590) The Baganda of
Central Africa used to attribute earthquakes to a certain god named
Musisi, who lived underground and set the earth in a tremor when he moved
about. At such times persons who had fetishes to hand patted them and
begged the god to be still; women who were with child patted their bellies
to keep the god from taking either their own life or that of their unborn
babes; others raised a shrill cry to induce him to remain quiet.(591)
(M148) When the Bataks of Sumatra feel an earthquake they shout “The
handle! The handle!” The meaning of the cry is variously explained. Some
say that it contains a delicate allusion to the sword which is thrust up
to the hilt into the body of the demon or serpent who shakes the earth.
Thus explained the words are a jeer or taunt levelled at that mischievous
being.(592) Others say that when Batara-guru, the creator, was about to
fashion the earth he began by building a raft, which he commanded a
certain Naga-padoha to support. While he was hard at work his chisel
broke, and at the same moment Naga-padoha budged under his burden.
Therefore Batara-guru said, “Hold hard a moment! The handle of the chisel
is broken off.” And that is why the Bataks call out “The handle of the
chisel” during an earthquake. They believe that the deluded Naga-padoha
will take the words for the voice of the creator, and that he will hold
hard accordingly.(593)
(M149) When the earth quakes in some parts of Celebes, it is said that all
the inhabitants of a village will rush out of their houses and grub up
grass by handfuls in order to attract the attention of the earth-spirit,
who, feeling his hair thus torn out by the roots, will be painfully
conscious that there are still people above ground.(594) So in Samoa,
during shocks of earthquake, the natives sometimes ran and threw
themselves on the ground, gnawed the earth, and shouted frantically to the
earthquake god Mafuie to desist lest he should shake the earth to
pieces.(595) They consoled themselves with the thought that Mafuie has
only one arm, saying, “If he had two, what a shake he would give!”(596)
The Bagobos of the Philippine Islands believe that the earth rests on a
great post, which a large serpent is trying to remove. When the serpent
shakes the post, the earth quakes. At such times the Bagobos beat their
dogs to make them howl, for the howling of the animals frightens the
serpent, and he stops shaking the post. Hence so long as an earthquake
lasts the howls of dogs may be heard to proceed from every house in a
Bagobo village.(597) The Tongans think that the earth is supported on the
prostrate form of the god Móooi. When he is tired of lying in one posture,
he tries to turn himself about, and that causes an earthquake. Then the
people shout and beat the ground with sticks to make him lie still.(598)
During an earthquake the Burmese make a great uproar, beating the walls of
their houses and shouting, to frighten away the evil genius who is shaking
the earth.(599) On a like occasion and for a like purpose some natives of
the Gazelle Peninsula in New Britain beat drums and blow on shells.(600)
The Dorasques, an Indian tribe of Panama, believed that the volcano of
Chiriqui was inhabited by a powerful spirit, who, in his anger, caused an
earthquake. At such times the Indians shot volleys of arrows in the
direction of the volcano to terrify him and make him desist.(601) Some of
the Peruvian Indians regarded an earthquake as a sign that the gods were
thirsty, so they poured water on the ground.(602) In Ashantee several
persons used to be put to death after an earthquake; they were slain as a
sacrifice to Sasabonsun, the earthquake god, in the hope of satiating his
cruelty for a time. Houses which had been thrown down or damaged by an
earthquake were sprinkled with human blood before they were rebuilt. When
part of the wall of the king’s house at Coomassie was knocked down by an
earthquake, fifty young girls were slaughtered, and the mud to be used in
the repairs was kneaded with their blood.(603)
(M150) An English resident in Fiji attributed a sudden access of piety in
Kantavu, one of the islands, to a tremendous earthquake which destroyed
many of the natives. The Fijians think that their islands rest on a god,
who causes earthquakes by turning over in his sleep. So they sacrifice to
him things of great value in order that he may turn as gently as
possible.(604) In Nias a violent earthquake has a salutary effect on the
morals of the natives. They suppose that it is brought about by a certain
Batoo Bedano, who intends to destroy the earth because of the iniquity of
mankind. So they assemble and fashion a great image out of the trunk of a
tree. They make offerings, they confess their sins, they correct the
fraudulent weights and measures, they vow to do better in the future, they
implore mercy, and if the earth has gaped, they throw a little gold into
the fissure. But when the danger is over, all their fine vows and promises
are soon forgotten.(605)
(M151) We may surmise that in those Greek lands which have suffered
severely from earthquakes, such as Achaia and the western coasts of Asia
Minor, Poseidon was worshipped not less as an earthquake god than as a
sea-god.(606) It is to be remembered that an earthquake is often
accompanied by a tremendous wave which comes rolling in like a mountain
from the sea, swamping the country far and wide; indeed on the coasts of
Chili and Peru, which have often been devastated by both, the wave is said
to be even more dreaded than the earthquake.(607) The Greeks often
experienced this combination of catastrophes, this conspiracy, as it were,
of earth and sea against the life and works of man.(608) It was thus that
Helice, on the coast of Achaia, perished with all its inhabitants on a
winter night, overwhelmed by the billows; and its destruction was set down
to the wrath of Poseidon.(609) Nothing could be more natural than that to
people familiar with the twofold calamity the dreadful god of the
earthquake and of the sea should appear to be one and the same. The
historian Diodorus Siculus observes that Peloponnese was deemed to have
been in ancient days the abode of Poseidon, that the whole country was in
a manner sacred to him, and that every city in it worshipped him above all
the gods. The devotion to Poseidon he explains partly by the earthquakes
and floods by which the land has been visited, partly by the remarkable
chasms and subterranean rivers which are a conspicuous feature of its
limestone mountains.(610)
§ 6. The Worship of Mephitic Vapours.
(M152) But eruptions and earthquakes, though the most tremendous, are not
the only phenomena of volcanic regions which have affected the religion of
the inhabitants. Poisonous mephitic vapours and hot springs, which abound
especially in volcanic regions,(611) have also had their devotees, and
both are, or were formerly, to be found in those western districts of Asia
Minor with which we are here concerned. To begin with vapours, we may take
as an illustration of their deadly effect the Guevo Upas, or Valley of
Poison, near Batur in Java. It is the crater of an extinct volcano, about
half a mile in circumference, and from thirty to thirty-five feet deep.
Neither man nor beast can descend to the bottom and live. The ground is
covered with the carcases of tigers, deer, birds, and even the bones of
men, all killed by the abundant emanations of carbonic acid gas which
exhale from the soil. Animals let down into it die in a few minutes. The
whole range of hills is volcanic. Two neighbouring craters constantly emit
smoke.(612) In another crater of Java, near the volcano Talaga Bodas, the
sulphureous exhalations have proved fatal to tigers, birds, and countless
insects; and the soft parts of these creatures, such as fibres, muscles,
hair, and skin, are well preserved, while the bones are corroded or
destroyed.(613)
(M153) The ancients were acquainted with such noxious vapours in their own
country, and they regarded the vents from which they were discharged as
entrances to the infernal regions.(614) The Greeks called them places of
Pluto (_Plutonia_) or places of Charon (_Charonia_).(615) In Italy the
vapours were personified as a goddess, who bore the name of Mefitis and
was worshipped in various parts of the peninsula.(616) She had a temple in
the famous valley of Amsanctus in the land of the Hirpini, where the
exhalations, supposed to be the breath of Pluto himself, were of so deadly
a character that all who set foot on the spot died.(617) The place is a
glen, partly wooded with chestnut trees, among limestone hills, distant
about four miles from the town of Frigento. Here, under a steep shelving
bank of decomposed limestone, there is a pool of dark ash-coloured water,
which continually bubbles up with an explosion like distant thunder. A
rapid stream of the same blackish water rushes into the pool from under
the barren rocky hill, but the fall is not more than a few feet. A little
higher up are apertures in the ground, through which warm blasts of
sulphuretted hydrogen are constantly issuing with more or less noise,
according to the size of the holes. These blasts are no doubt what the
ancients deemed the breath of Pluto. The pool is now called _Mefite_ and
the holes _Mefitinelle_. On the other side of the pool is a smaller pond
called the _Coccaio_, or Cauldron, because it appears to be perpetually
boiling. Thick masses of mephitic vapour, visible a hundred yards off,
float in rapid undulations on its surface. The exhalations given off by
these waters are sometimes fatal, especially when they are borne on a high
wind. But as the carbonic acid gas does not naturally rise more than two
or three feet from the ground, it is possible in calm weather to walk
round the pools, though to stoop is difficult and to fall would be
dangerous. The ancient temple of Mefitis has been replaced by a shrine of
the martyred Santa Felicita.(618)
(M154) Similar discharges of poisonous vapours took place at various
points in the volcanic district of Caria, and were the object of
superstitious veneration in antiquity. Thus at the village of Thymbria
there was a sacred cave which gave out deadly emanations, and the place
was deemed a sanctuary of Charon.(619) A similar cave might be seen at the
village of Acharaca near Nysa, in the valley of the Maeander. Here, below
the cave, there was a fine grove with a temple dedicated to Pluto and
Persephone. The place was sacred to Pluto, yet sick people resorted to it
for the restoration of their health. They lived in the neighbouring
village, and the priests prescribed for them according to the revelations
which they received from the two deities in dreams. Often the priests
would take the patients to the cave and leave them there for days without
food. Sometimes the sufferers themselves were favoured with revelations in
dreams, but they always acted under the spiritual direction of the
priests. To all but the sick the place was unapproachable and fatal. Once
a year a festival was held in the village, and then afflicted folk came in
crowds to be rid of their ailments. About the hour of noon on that day a
number of athletic young men, their naked bodies greased with oil, used to
carry a bull up to the cave and there let it go. But the beast had not
taken a few steps into the cavern before it fell to the ground and
expired: so deadly was the vapour.(620)
(M155) Another Plutonian sanctuary of the same sort existed at Hierapolis,
in the upper valley of the Maeander, on the borders of Lydia and
Phrygia.(621) Here under a brow of the hill there was a deep cave with a
narrow mouth just large enough to admit the body of a man. A square space
in front of the cave was railed off, and within the railing there hung so
thick a cloudy vapour that it was hardly possible to see the ground. In
calm weather people could step up to the railing with safety, but to pass
within it was instant death. Bulls driven into the enclosure fell to the
earth and were dragged out lifeless; and sparrows, which spectators by way
of experiment allowed to fly into the mist, dropped dead at once. Yet the
eunuch priests of the Great Mother Goddess could enter the railed-off area
with impunity; nay more, they used to go up to the very mouth of the cave,
stoop, and creep into it for a certain distance, holding their breath; but
there was a look on their faces as if they were being choked. Some people
ascribed the immunity of the priests to the divine protection, others to
the use of antidotes.(622)
§ 7. The Worship of Hot Springs.
(M156) The mysterious chasm of Hierapolis, with its deadly mist, has not
been discovered in modern times; indeed it would seem to have vanished
even in antiquity.(623) It may have been destroyed by an earthquake. But
another marvel of the Sacred City remains to this day. The hot springs
with their calcareous deposit, which, like a wizard’s wand, turns all that
it touches to stone, excited the wonder of the ancients, and the course of
ages has only enhanced the fantastic splendour of the great transformation
scene. The stately ruins of Hierapolis occupy a broad shelf or terrace on
the mountain-side commanding distant views of extraordinary beauty and
grandeur, from the dark precipices and dazzling snows of Mount Cadmus away
to the burnt summits of Phrygia, fading in rosy tints into the blue of the
sky. Hills, broken by wooded ravines, rise behind the city. In front the
terrace falls away in cliffs three hundred feet high into the desolate
treeless valley of the Lycus. Over the face of these cliffs the hot
streams have poured or trickled for thousands of years, encrusting them
with a pearly white substance like salt or driven snow. The appearance of
the whole is as if a mighty river, some two miles broad, had been suddenly
arrested in the act of falling over a great cliff and transformed into
white marble. It is a petrified Niagara. The illusion is strongest in
winter or in cool summer mornings when the mist from the hot springs hangs
in the air, like a veil of spray resting on the foam of the waterfall. A
closer inspection of the white cliff, which attracts the traveller’s
attention at a distance of twenty miles, only adds to its beauty and
changes one illusion for another. For now it seems to be a glacier, its
long pendent stalactites looking like icicles, and the snowy whiteness of
its smooth expanse being tinged here and there with delicate hues of blue,
rose and green, all the colours of the rainbow. These petrified cascades
of Hierapolis are among the wonders of the world. Indeed they have
probably been without a rival in their kind ever since the famous white
and pink terraces or staircases of Rotomahana in New Zealand were
destroyed by a volcanic eruption.
(M157) The hot springs which have wrought these miracles at Hierapolis
rise in a large deep pool among the vast and imposing ruins of the ancient
city. The water is of a greenish-blue tint, but clear and transparent. At
the bottom may be seen the white marble columns of a beautiful Corinthian
colonnade, which must formerly have encircled the sacred pool. Shimmering
through the green-blue water they look like the ruins of a Naiad’s palace.
Clumps of oleanders and pomegranate-trees overhang the little lake and add
to its charm. Yet the enchanted spot has its dangers. Bubbles of carbonic
acid gas rise incessantly from the bottom and mount like flickering
particles of silver to the surface. Birds and beasts which come to drink
of the water are sometimes found dead on the bank, stifled by the noxious
vapour; and the villagers tell of bathers who have been overpowered by it
and drowned, or dragged down, as they say, to death by the water-spirit.
(M158) The streams of hot water, no longer regulated by the care of a
religious population, have for centuries been allowed to overflow their
channels and to spread unchecked over the tableland. By the deposit which
they leave behind they have raised the surface of the ground many feet,
their white ridges concealing the ruins and impeding the footstep, except
where the old channels, filled up solidly to the brim, now form hard level
footpaths, from which the traveller may survey the strange scene without
quitting the saddle. In antiquity the husbandmen used purposely to lead
the water in rills round their lands, and thus in a few years their fields
and vineyards were enclosed with walls of solid stone. The water was also
peculiarly adapted for the dyeing of woollen stuffs. Tinged with dyes
extracted from certain roots, it imparted to cloths dipped in it the
finest shades of purple and scarlet.(624)
(M159) We cannot doubt that Hierapolis owed its reputation as a holy city
in great part to its hot springs and mephitic vapours. The curative virtue
of mineral and thermal springs was well known to the ancients, and it
would be interesting, if it were possible, to trace the causes which have
gradually eliminated the superstitious element from the use of such
waters, and so converted many old seats of volcanic religion into the
medicinal baths of modern times. It was an article of Greek faith that all
hot springs were sacred to Hercules.(625) “Who ever heard of cold baths
that were sacred to Hercules?” asks Injustice in Aristophanes; and Justice
admits that the brawny hero’s patronage of hot baths was the excuse
alleged by young men for sprawling all day in the steaming water when they
ought to have been sweating in the gymnasium.(626) Hot springs were said
to have been first produced for the refreshment of Hercules after his
labours; some ascribed the kindly thought and deed to Athena, others to
Hephaestus, and others to the nymphs.(627) The warm water of these sources
appears to have been used especially to heal diseases of the skin; for a
Greek proverb, “the itch of Hercules,” was applied to persons in need of
hot baths for the scab.(628) On the strength of his connexion with
medicinal springs Hercules set up as a patron of the healing art. In
heaven, if we can trust Lucian, he even refused to give place to
Aesculapius himself, and the difference between the two deities led to a
very unseemly brawl. “Do you mean to say,” demanded Hercules of his father
Zeus, in a burst of indignation, “that this apothecary is to sit down to
table before me?” To this the apothecary replied with much acrimony,
recalling certain painful episodes in the private life of the burly hero.
Finally the dispute was settled by Zeus, who decided in favour of
Aesculapius on the ground that he died before Hercules, and was therefore
entitled to rank as senior god.(629)
(M160) Among the hot springs sacred to Hercules the most famous were those
which rose in the pass of Thermopylae, and gave to the defile its name of
the Hot Gates.(630) The warm baths, called by the natives “the Pots,” were
enlarged and improved for the use of invalids by the wealthy sophist
Herodes Atticus in the second century of our era. An altar of Hercules
stood beside them.(631) According to one story, the hot springs were here
produced for his refreshment by the goddess Athena.(632) They exist to
this day apparently unchanged, although the recession of the sea has
converted what used to be a narrow pass into a wide, swampy flat, through
which the broad but shallow, turbid stream of the Sperchius creeps
sluggishly seaward. On the other side the rugged mountains descend in
crags and precipices to the pass, their grey rocky sides tufted with low
wood or bushes wherever vegetation can find a foothold, and their summits
fringed along the sky-line with pines. They remind a Scotchman of the
“crags, knolls, and mounds confusedly hurled” in which Ben Venue comes
down to the Silver Strand of Loch Katrine. The principal spring bursts
from the rocks just at the foot of the steepest and loftiest part of the
range. After forming a small pool it flows in a rapid stream eastward,
skirting the foot of the mountains. The water is so hot that it is almost
painful to hold the hands in it, at least near the source, and steam rises
thickly from its surface along the course of the brook. Indeed the clouds
of white steam and the strong sulphurous smell acquaint the traveller with
his approach to the famous spot before he comes in sight of the springs.
The water is clear, but has the appearance of being of a deep sea-blue or
sea-green colour. This appearance it takes from the thick, slimy deposits
of blue-green sulphur which line the bed of the stream. From its source
the blue, steaming, sulphur-reeking brook rushes eastward for a few
hundred yards at the foot of the mountain, and is then joined by the water
of another spring, which rises much more tranquilly in a sort of natural
bath among the rocks. The sides of this bath are not so thickly coated
with sulphur as the banks of the stream; hence its water, about two feet
deep, is not so blue. Just beyond it there is a second and larger bath,
which, from its square shape and smooth sides, would seem to be in part
artificial. These two baths are probably the Pots mentioned by ancient
writers. They are still used by bathers, and a few wooden dressing-rooms
are provided for the accommodation of visitors. Some of the water is
conducted in an artificial channel to turn a mill about half a mile off at
the eastern end of the pass. The rest crosses the flat to find its way to
the sea. In its passage it has coated the swampy ground with a white
crust, which sounds hollow under the tread.(633)
(M161) We may conjecture that these remarkable springs furnished the
principal reason for associating Hercules with this district, and for
laying the scene of his fiery death on the top of the neighbouring Mount
Oeta. The district is volcanic, and has often been shaken by
earthquakes.(634) Across the strait the island of Euboea has suffered from
the same cause and at the same time; and on its southern shore sulphureous
springs, like those of Thermopylae, but much hotter and more powerful,
were in like manner dedicated to Hercules.(635) The strong medicinal
qualities of the waters, which are especially adapted for the cure of skin
diseases and gout, have attracted patients in ancient and modern times.
Sulla took the waters here for his gout;(636) and in the days of Plutarch
the neighbouring town of Aedepsus, situated in a green valley about two
miles from the springs, was one of the most fashionable resorts of Greece.
Elegant and commodious buildings, an agreeable country, and abundance of
fish and game united with the health-giving properties of the baths to
draw crowds of idlers to the place, especially in the prime of the
glorious Greek spring, the height of the season at Aedepsus. While some
watched the dancers dancing or listened to the strains of the harp, others
passed the time in discourse, lounging in the shade of cloisters or pacing
the shore of the beautiful strait with its prospect of mountains beyond
mountains immortalized in story across the water.(637) Of all this Greek
elegance and luxury hardly a vestige remains. Yet the healing springs flow
now as freely as of old. In the course of time the white and yellow
calcareous deposit which the water leaves behind it, has formed a hillock
at the foot of the mountains, and the stream now falls in a steaming
cascade from the face of the rock into the sea.(638) Once, after an
earthquake, the springs ceased to flow for three days, and at the same
time the hot springs of Thermopylae dried up.(639) The incident proves the
relation of these Baths of Hercules on both sides of the strait to each
other and to volcanic agency. On another occasion a cold spring suddenly
burst out beside the hot springs of Aedepsus, and as its water was
supposed to be peculiarly beneficial to health, patients hastened from far
and near to drink of it. But the generals of King Antigonus, anxious to
raise a revenue, imposed a tax on the use of the water; and the spring, as
if in disgust at being turned to so base a use, disappeared as suddenly as
it had come.(640)
(M162) The association of Hercules with hot springs was not confined to
Greece itself. Greek influence extended it to Sicily,(641) Italy,(642) and
even to Dacia.(643) Why the hero should have been chosen as the patron of
thermal waters, it is hard to say. Yet it is worth while, perhaps, to
remember that such springs combine in a manner the twofold and seemingly
discordant principles of water and fire,(644) of fertility and
destruction, and that the death of Hercules in the flames seems to connect
him with the fiery element. Further, the apparent conflict of the two
principles is by no means as absolute as at first sight we might be
tempted to suppose; for heat is as necessary as moisture to the support of
animal and vegetable life. Even volcanic fires have their beneficent
aspect, since their products lend a more generous flavour to the juice of
the grape. The ancients themselves, as we have seen, perceived the
connexion between good wine and volcanic soil, and proposed more or less
seriously to interpret the vine-god Dionysus as a child of the fire.(645)
As a patron of hot springs Hercules combined the genial elements of heat
and moisture, and may therefore have stood, in one of his many aspects,
for the principle of fertility.
(M163) In Syria childless women still resort to hot springs in order to
procure offspring from the saint or the jinnee of the waters.(646) This,
for example, they do at the famous hot springs in the land of Moab which
flow through a wild gorge into the Dead Sea. In antiquity the springs went
by the Greek name of Callirrhoe, the Fair-flowing. It was to them that the
dying Herod, weighed down by a complication of disorders which the pious
Jews traced to God’s vengeance, repaired in the vain hope of arresting or
mitigating the fatal progress of disease. The healing waters brought no
alleviation of his sufferings, and he retired to Jericho to die.(647) The
hot springs burst in various places from the sides of a deep romantic
ravine to form a large and rapid stream of lukewarm water, which rushes
down the depths of the lynn, dashing and foaming over boulders, under the
dense shade of tamarisk-trees and cane-brakes, the rocks on either bank
draped with an emerald fringe of maidenhair fern. One of the springs falls
from a high rocky shelf over the face of a cliff which is tinted bright
yellow by the sulphurous water. The lofty crags which shut in the narrow
chasm are bold and imposing in outline and varied in colour, for they
range from red sandstone through white and yellow limestone to black
basalt. The waters issue from the line where the sandstone and limestone
meet. Their temperature is high, and from great clefts in the
mountain-sides you may see clouds of steam rising and hear the rumbling of
the running waters. The bottom of the glen is clothed and half choked with
rank vegetation; for, situated far below the level of the sea, the hot
ravine is almost African in climate and flora. Here grow dense thickets of
canes with their feathery tufts that shake and nod in every passing breath
of wind: here the oleander flourishes with its dark-green glossy foliage
and its beautiful pink blossoms: here tall date-palms rear their stately
heads wherever the hot springs flow. Gorgeous flowers, too, carpet the
ground. Splendid orobanches, some pinkish purple, some bright yellow, grow
in large tufts, each flower-stalk more than three feet high, and covered
with blossoms from the ground upwards. An exquisite rose-coloured geranium
abounds among the stones; and where the soil is a little richer than usual
it is a mass of the night-scented stock, while the crannies of the rocks
are gay with scarlet ranunculus and masses of sorrel and cyclamen. Over
all this luxuriant vegetation flit great butterflies of brilliant hues.
Looking down the far-stretching gorge to its mouth you see in the distance
the purple hills of Judah framed between walls of black basaltic columns
on the one side and of bright red sandstone on the other.(648)
(M164) Every year in the months of April and May the Arabs resort in
crowds to the glen to benefit by the waters. They take up their quarters
in huts made of the reeds which they cut in the thickets. They bathe in
the steaming water, or allow it to splash on their bodies as it gushes in
a powerful jet from a crevice in the rocks. But before they indulge in
these ablutions, the visitors, both Moslem and Christian, propitiate the
spirit or genius of the place by sacrificing a sheep or goat at the spring
and allowing its red blood to tinge the water. Then they bathe in what
they call the Baths of Solomon. Legend runs that Solomon the Wise made his
bathing-place here, and in order to keep the water always warm he
commanded the jinn never to let the fire die down. The jinn obey his
orders to this day, but sometimes they slacken their efforts, and then the
water runs low and cool. When the bathers perceive that, they say, “O
Solomon, bring green wood, dry wood,” and no sooner have they said so than
the water begins to gurgle and steam as before. Sick people tell the saint
or sheikh, who lives invisible in the springs, all about their ailments;
they point out to him the precise spot that is the seat of the malady, it
may be the back, or the head, or the legs; and if the heat of the water
diminishes, they call out, “Thy bath is cold, O sheikh, thy bath is cold!”
whereupon the obliging sheikh stokes up the fire, and out comes the water
boiling. But if in spite of their remonstrances the temperature of the
spring continues low, they say that the sheikh has gone on pilgrimage, and
they shout to him to hasten his return. Barren Moslem women also visit
these hot springs to obtain children, and they do the same at the similar
baths near Kerak. At the latter place a childless woman has been known to
address the spirit of the waters saying, “O sheikh Solomon, I am not yet
an old woman; give me children.”(649) The respect thus paid by Arab men
and women to the sheikh Solomon at his hot springs may help us to
understand the worship which at similar spots Greek men and women used to
render to the hero Hercules. As the ideal of manly strength he may have
been deemed the father of many of his worshippers, and Greek wives may
have gone on pilgrimage to his steaming waters in order to obtain the wish
of their hearts.
§ 8. The Worship of Volcanoes in other Lands.
(M165) How far these considerations may serve to explain the custom of
burning Hercules, or gods identified with him, in effigy or in the person
of a human being, is a question which deserves to be considered. It might
be more easily answered if we were better acquainted with analogous
customs in other parts of the world, but our information with regard to
the worship of volcanic phenomena in general appears to be very scanty.
However, a few facts may be noted.
(M166) The largest active crater in the world is Kirauea in Hawaii. It is
a huge cauldron, several miles in circumference and hundreds of feet deep,
the bottom of which is filled with boiling lava in a state of terrific
ebullition; from the red surge rise many black cones or insulated craters
belching columns of grey smoke or pyramids of brilliant flame from their
roaring mouths, while torrents of blazing lava roll down their sides to
flow into the molten, tossing sea of fire below. The scene is especially
impressive by night, when flames of sulphurous blue or metallic red sweep
across the heaving billows of the infernal lake, casting a broad glare on
the jagged sides of the insulated craters, which shoot up eddying streams
of fire with a continuous roar, varied at frequent intervals by loud
detonations, as spherical masses of fusing lava or bright ignited stones
are hurled into the air.(650) It is no wonder that so appalling a
spectacle should have impressed the imagination of the natives and filled
it with ideas of the dreadful beings who inhabit the fiery abyss. They
considered the great crater, we are told, as the primaeval abode of their
volcanic deities: the black cones that rise like islands from the burning
lake appeared to them the houses where the gods often amused themselves by
playing at draughts: the roaring of the furnaces and the crackling of the
flames were the music of their dance; and the red flaming surge was the
surf wherein they played, sportively swimming on the rolling wave.(651)
(M167) For these fearful divinities they had appropriate names; one was
the King of Steam or Vapour, another the Rain of Night, another the
Husband of Thunder, another the Child of War with a Spear of Fire, another
the Fiery-eyed Canoe-breaker, another the Red-hot Mountain holding or
lifting Clouds, and so on. But above them all was the great goddess Pélé.
All were dreaded: they never journeyed on errands of mercy but only to
receive offerings or to execute vengeance; and their arrival in any place
was announced by the convulsive trembling of the earth, by the lurid light
of volcanic eruption, by the flash of lightning, and the clap of thunder.
The whole island was bound to pay them tribute or support their temples
and devotees; and whenever the chiefs or people failed to send the proper
offerings, or incurred their displeasure by insulting them or their
priests or breaking the taboos which should be observed round about the
craters, they filled the huge cauldron on the top of Kirauea with molten
lava, and spouted the fiery liquid on the surrounding country; or they
would march to some of their other houses, which mortals call craters, in
the neighbourhood of the sinners, and rushing forth in a river or column
of fire overwhelm the guilty. If fishermen did not bring them enough fish
from the sea, they would go down, kill all the fish, fill the shoals with
lava, and so destroy the fishing-grounds. Hence, when the volcano was in
active eruption or threatened to break out, the people used to cast vast
numbers of hogs, alive or dead, into the craters or into the rolling
torrent of lava in order to appease the gods and arrest the progress of
the fiery stream.(652) To pluck certain sacred berries, which grow on the
mountain, to dig sand on its slopes, or to throw stones into the crater
were acts particularly offensive to the deities, who would instantly rise
in volumes of smoke, crush the offender under a shower of stones, or so
involve him in thick darkness and rain that he could never find his way
home. However, it was lawful to pluck and eat of the sacred berries, if
only a portion of them were first offered to the goddess Pélé. The offerer
would take a branch laden with clusters of the beautiful red and yellow
berries, and standing on the edge of the abyss and looking towards the
place where the smoke rose in densest volumes, he would say, “Pélé, here
are your berries: I offer some to you, some I also eat.” With that he
would throw some of the berries into the crater and eat the rest.(653) A
kind of brittle volcanic glass, of a dark-olive colour and
semi-transparent, is found on the mountain in the shape of filaments as
fine as human hair; the natives call it the hair of the goddess Pélé.(654)
Worshippers used to cast locks of their own hair into the crater of
Kirauea as an offering to the dreadful goddess who dwelt in it. She had
also a temple at the bottom of a valley, where stood a number of rude
stone idols wrapt in white and yellow cloth. Once a year the priests and
devotees of Pélé assembled there to perform certain rites and to feast on
hogs, dogs, and fruit, which the pious inhabitants of Hamakua brought to
the holy place in great abundance. This annual festival was intended to
propitiate the volcanic goddess and thereby to secure the country from
earthquakes and floods of molten lava.(655) The goddess of the volcano was
supposed to inspire people, though to the carnal eye the inspiration
resembled intoxication. One of these inspired priestesses solemnly
affirmed to an English missionary that she was the goddess Pélé herself
and as such immortal. Assuming a haughty air, she said, “I am Pélé; I
shall never die; and those who follow me, when they die, if part of their
bones be taken to Kirauea (the name of the volcano), will live with me in
the bright fires there.”(656) For “the worshippers of Pélé threw a part of
bones of their dead into the volcano, under the impression that the
spirits of the deceased would then be admitted to the society of the
volcanic deities, and that their influence would preserve the survivors
from the ravages of volcanic fire.”(657)
(M168) This last belief may help to explain a custom, which some peoples
have observed, of throwing human victims into volcanoes. The intention of
such a practice need not be simply to appease the dreadful volcanic
spirits by ministering to their fiendish lust of cruelty; it may be a
notion that the souls of the men or women who have been burnt to death in
the crater will join the host of demons in the fiery furnace, mitigate
their fury, and induce them to spare the works and the life of man. But,
however we may explain the custom, it has been usual in various parts of
the world to throw human beings as well as less precious offerings into
the craters of active volcanoes. Thus the Indians of Nicaragua used to
sacrifice men, women, and children to the active volcano Massaya, flinging
them into the craters: we are told that the victims went willingly to
their fate.(658) In the island of Siao, to the north of Celebes, a child
was formerly sacrificed every year in order to keep the volcano Goowoong
Awoo quiet. The poor wretch was tortured to death at a festival which
lasted nine days. In later times the place of the child has been taken by
a wooden puppet, which is hacked to pieces in the same way. The
Galelareese of Halmahera say that the Sultan of Ternate used annually to
require some human victims, who were cast into the crater of the volcano
to save the island from its ravages.(659) In Java the volcano Bromo or
Bromok is annually worshipped by people who throw offerings of coco-nuts,
plantains, mangoes, rice, chickens, cakes, cloth, money, and so forth into
the crater.(660) To the Tenggereese, an aboriginal heathen tribe
inhabiting the mountains of which Bromo is the central crater, the
festival of making offerings to the volcano is the greatest of the year.
It is held at full moon in the twelfth month, the day being fixed by the
high priest. Each household prepares its offerings the night before. Very
early in the morning the people set out by moonlight for Mount Bromo, men,
women, and children all arrayed in their best. Before they reach the
mountain they must cross a wide sandy plain, where the spirits of the dead
are supposed to dwell until by means of the Festival of the Dead they
obtain admittance to the volcano. It is a remarkable sight to see
thousands of people streaming across the level sands from three different
directions. They have to descend into it from the neighbouring heights,
and the horses break into a gallop when, after the steep descent, they
reach the level. The gay and varied colours of the dresses, the fantastic
costumes of the priests, the offerings borne along, the whole lit up by
the warm beams of the rising sun, lend to the spectacle a peculiar charm.
All assemble at the foot of the crater, where a market is held for
offerings and refreshments. The scene is a lively one, for hundreds of
people must now pay the vows which they made during the year. The priests
sit in a long row on mats, and when the high priest appears the people
pray, saying, “Bromo, we thank thee for all thy gifts and benefits with
which thou ever blessest us, and for which we offer thee our
thank-offerings to-day. Bless us, our children, and our children’s
children.” The prayers over, the high priest gives a signal, and the whole
multitude arises and climbs the mountain. On reaching the edge of the
crater, the pontiff again blesses the offerings of food, clothes, and
money, which are then thrown into the crater. Yet few of them reach the
spirits for whom they are intended; for a swarm of urchins now scrambles
down into the crater, and at more or less risk to life and limb succeeds
in appropriating the greater part of the offerings. The spirits, defrauded
of their dues, must take the will for the deed.(661) Tradition says that
once in a time of dearth a chief vowed to sacrifice one of his children to
the volcano, if the mountain would bless the people with plenty of food.
His prayer was answered, and he paid his vow by casting his youngest son
as a thank-offering into the crater.(662)
(M169) On the slope of Mount Smeroe, another active volcano in Java, there
are two small idols, which the natives worship and pray to when they
ascend the mountain. They lay food before the images to obtain the favour
of the god of the volcano.(663) In antiquity people cast into the craters
of Etna vessels of gold and silver and all kinds of victims. If the fire
swallowed up the offerings, the omen was good; but if it rejected them,
some evil was sure to befall the offerer.(664)
(M170) These examples suggest that a custom of burning men or images may
possibly be derived from a practice of throwing them into the craters of
active volcanoes in order to appease the dreaded spirits or gods who dwell
there. But unless we reckon the fires of Mount Argaeus in Cappadocia(665)
and of Mount Chimaera in Lycia,(666) there is apparently no record of any
mountain in Western Asia which has been in eruption within historical
times. On the whole, then, we conclude that the Asiatic custom of burning
kings or gods was probably in no way connected with volcanic phenomena.
Yet it was perhaps worth while to raise the question of the connexion,
even though it has received only a negative answer. The whole subject of
the influence which physical environment has exercised on the history of
religion deserves to be studied with more attention than it has yet
received.(667)