CHAPTER XI. THE ORIGIN OF OSIRIS.

(M130) Thus far we have discussed the character of Osiris as he is

presented to us in the art and literature of Egypt and in the testimonies

of Greek writers; and we have found that judged by these indications he

was in the main a god of vegetation and of the dead. But we have still to

ask, how did the conception of such a composite deity originate? Did it

arise simply through observation of the great annual fluctuations of the

seasons and a desire to explain them? Was it a result of brooding over the

mystery of external nature? Was it the attempt of a rude philosophy to

lift the veil and explore the hidden springs that set the vast machine in

motion? That man at a very early stage of his long history meditated on

these things and evolved certain crude theories which partially satisfied

his craving after knowledge is certain; from such meditations of

Babylonian and Phrygian sages appear to have sprung the pathetic figures

of Adonis and Attis; and from such meditations of Egyptian sages may have

sprung the tragic figure of Osiris.

(M131) Yet a broad distinction seems to sever the myth and worship of

Osiris from the kindred myths and worships of Adonis and Attis. For while

Adonis and Attis were minor divinities in the religion of Western Asia,

completely overshadowed by the greater deities of their respective

pantheons, the solemn figure of Osiris towered in solitary grandeur over

all the welter of Egyptian gods, like a pyramid of his native land lit up

by the last rays of the setting sun when all below it is in shadow. And

whereas legend generally represented Adonis and Attis as simple swains,

mere herdsmen or hunters whom the fatal love of a goddess had elevated

above their homely sphere into a brief and melancholy pre-eminence, Osiris

uniformly appears in tradition as a great and beneficent king. In life, he

ruled over his people, beloved and revered for the benefits he conferred

on them and on the world; in death he reigned in their hearts and memories

as lord of the dead, the awful judge at whose bar every man must one day

stand to give an account of the deeds done in the body and to receive the

final award. In the faith of the Egyptians the cruel death and blessed

resurrection of Osiris occupied the same place as the death and

resurrection of Christ hold in the faith of Christians. As Osiris died and

rose again from the dead, so they hoped through him and in his dear name

to wake triumphant from the sleep of death to a blissful eternity. That

was their sheet-anchor in life’s stormy sea; that was the hope which

supported and consoled millions of Egyptian men and women for a period of

time far longer than that during which Christianity has now existed on

earth. In the long history of religion no two divine figures resemble each

other more closely in the fervour of personal devotion which they have

kindled and in the high hopes which they have inspired than Osiris and

Christ. The sad figure of Buddha indeed has been as deeply loved and

revered by countless millions; but he had no glad tidings of immortality

for men, nothing but the promise of a final release from the burden of

mortality.

(M132) And if Osiris and Christ have been the centres of the like

enthusiastic devotion, may not the secret of their influence have been

similar? If Christ lived the life and died the death of a man on earth,

may not Osiris have done so likewise? The immense and enduring popularity

of his worship speaks in favour of the supposition; for all the other

great religious or semi-religious systems which have won for themselves a

permanent place in the affections of mankind, have been founded by

individual great men, who by their personal life and example exerted a

power of attraction such as no cold abstractions, no pale products of the

collective wisdom or folly could ever exert on the minds and hearts of

humanity. Thus it was with Buddhism, with Confucianism, with Christianity,

and with Mohammedanism; and thus it may well have been with the religion

of Osiris. Certainly we shall do less violence to the evidence if we

accept the unanimous tradition of ancient Egypt on this point than if we

resolve the figure of Osiris into a myth pure and simple. And when we

consider that from the earliest to the latest times Egyptian kings were

worshipped as gods both in life and in death, there appears to be nothing

extravagant or improbable in the view that one of them by his personal

qualities excited a larger measure of devotion than usual during his life

and was remembered with fonder affection and deeper reverence after his

death; till in time his beloved memory, dimmed, transfigured, and

encircled with a halo of glory by the mists of time, grew into the

dominant religion of his people. At least this theory is reasonable enough

to deserve a serious consideration. If we accept it, we may suppose that

the mythical elements, which legend undoubtedly ascribed to Osiris, were

later accretions which gathered about his memory like ivy about a ruin.

There is no improbability in such a supposition; on the contrary, all

analogy is in its favour, for nothing is more certain than that myths grow

like weeds round the great historical figures of the past.

(M133) In recent years the historical reality of Osiris as a king who once

lived and reigned in Egypt has been maintained by more than one learned

scholar;(425) and without venturing to pronounce a decided opinion on so

obscure and difficult a question, I think it worth while, following the

example of Dr. Wallis Budge, to indicate certain modern African analogies

which tend to confirm the view that beneath the mythical wrappings of

Osiris there lay the mummy of a dead man. At all events the analogies

which I shall cite suffice to prove that the custom of worshipping dead

kings has not been confined to Egypt, but has been apparently widespread

throughout Africa, though the evidence now at our disposal only enables us

to detect the observance of the custom at a few points of the great

continent. But even if the resemblance in this respect between ancient

Egypt and modern Africa should be regarded as established, it would not

justify us in inferring an ethnical affinity between the fair or ruddy

Egyptians and the black aboriginal races who occupy almost the whole of

Africa except a comparatively narrow fringe on the northern sea-board.

Scholars are still divided on the question of the original home and racial

relationship of the ancient Egyptians. It has been held on the one hand

that they belong to an indigenous white race which has been always in

possession of the Mediterranean coasts of Africa; and on the other hand it

has been supposed that they are akin to the Semites in blood as well as in

language, and that they entered Africa from the East, whether by gradual

infiltration or on a sudden wave of conquest like the Arabs in the decline

of the Roman empire.(426) On either view a great gulf divided them from

the swarthy natives of the Sudan, with whom they were always in contact on

their southern border; and though a certain admixture may have taken place

through marriage between the two races, it seems unsafe to assume that the

religious and political resemblances which can be traced between them are

based on any closer relationship than the general similarity in structure

and functions of the human mind.

(M134) In a former part of this work we saw that the Shilluks, a pastoral

and partially agricultural people of the White Nile, worship the spirits

of their dead kings.(427) The graves of the deceased monarchs form indeed

the national or tribal temples; and as each king is interred at the

village where he was born and where his afterbirth is buried, these

grave-shrines are scattered over the country. Each of them usually

comprises a small group of round huts, resembling the common houses of the

people, the whole being enclosed by a fence; one of the huts is built over

the grave, the others are occupied by the guardians of the shrine, who at

first are generally the widows or old men-servants of the deceased king.

When these women or retainers die, they are succeeded in office by their

descendants, for the tombs are maintained in perpetuity, so that the

number of temples and of gods is always on the increase. Cattle are

dedicated to these royal shrines and animals sacrificed at them. For

example, when the millet crop threatens to fail or a murrain breaks out

among the beasts, one of the dead kings will appear to somebody in a dream

and demand a sacrifice. The dream is reported to the king, and he

immediately orders a bullock and a cow to be sent to the grave of the dead

king who appeared in a vision of the night to the sleeper. This is done;

the bullock is killed and the cow added to the sacred herd of the shrine.

It is customary, also, though not necessary, at harvest to offer some of

the new millet at the temple-tombs of the kings; and sick people send

animals to be sacrificed there on their behalf. Special regard is paid to

trees that grow near the graves of the kings; and the spirits of the

departed monarchs are believed to appear from time to time in the form of

certain animals. One of them, for example, always takes the shape of a

certain insect, which seems to be the larva of the _Mantidae_. When a

Shilluk finds one of these insects, he will take it up in his hands and

deposit it reverentially at the shrine. Other kings manifest themselves as

a certain species of white birds; others assume the form of giraffes. When

one of these long-legged and long-necked creatures comes stalking up

fearlessly to a village where there is a king’s grave, the people know

that the king’s soul is in the animal, and the attendants at the royal

tomb testify their joy at the appearance of their master by sacrificing a

sheep or even a bullock.

(M135) But of all the dead kings none is revered so deeply or occupies so

large a place in the minds of the people as Nyakang, the traditional

founder of the dynasty and the ancestor of all the kings who have reigned

after him to the present day. Of these kings the Shilluks have preserved

the memory and the genealogy; twenty-six seem to have sat on the throne

since Nyakang, but the period of time covered by their reigns is much

shorter than it would have been under conditions such as now prevail in

Europe; for down to the time when their country came under British rule it

was the regular custom of the Shilluks to put their kings to death as soon

as they showed serious symptoms of bodily or mental decay. The custom was

based on “the conviction that the king must not be allowed to become ill

or senile, lest with his diminishing vigour the cattle should sicken and

fail to bear their increase, the crops should rot in the fields, and man,

stricken with disease, should die in ever-increasing numbers.”(428) It is

said that Nyakang, like Romulus, disappeared in a great storm, which

scattered all the people about him; in their absence the king took a

cloth, tied it tightly round his neck, and strangled himself. According to

one account, that is the death which all his successors on the throne have

died;(429) but while tradition appears to be unanimous as to the custom of

regicide, it varies as to the precise mode in which the kings were

relieved of their office and of life. But still the people are convinced

that Nyakang did not really die but only vanished mysteriously away like

the wind. When a missionary asked the Shilluks as to the manner of

Nyakang’s death, they were filled with amazement at his ignorance and

stoutly maintained that he never died, for were he to die all the Shilluks

would die also.(430) The graves of this deified king are shown in various

parts of the country.

(M136) From time to time the spirit of Nyakang manifests itself to his

people in the form of an animal. Any creature of regal port or surpassing

beauty may serve as his temporary incarnation. Such among wild animals are

lions, crocodiles, little yellow snakes that crawl about men’s houses, the

finest sorts of antelopes, flamingoes with their rose-pink and scarlet

plumage, and butterflies of all sorts with their brilliant and varied

hues. An unusually fine head of cattle is also recognized as the abode of

the great king’s soul; for example he once appeared in the shape of a

white bull, whereupon the living king commanded special sacrifices to be

offered in honour of his deified predecessor. When a bird in which the

royal spirit is known to be lodged lights on a tree, that tree becomes

sacred to Nyakang; beads and cloths are hung on its boughs, sacrifices and

prayers are offered below it. Once when the Turks unknowingly felled such

a tree, fear and horror fell on the Shilluks who beheld the sacrilege.

They filled the air with lamentations and killed an ox to appease their

insulted ancestor.(431) Particular regard is also paid to trees that grow

near the graves of Nyakang, though they are not regularly worshipped.(432)

In one place two gigantic baobab trees are pointed out as marking the spot

where Nyakang once stood, and sacrifices are now offered under their

spreading shade.(433)

(M137) There seems to be no doubt that in spite of the mythical elements

which have gathered round his memory, Nyakang was a real man, who led the

Shilluks to their present home on the Nile either from the west or from

the south; for on this point tradition varies. “The first and most

important ancestor, who is everywhere revered, is Nyakang, the first

Shilluk king. He always receives the honourable titles of Father (_uò_),

Ancestor (_qua_), King (_red_) or Kings (_ror_), Ancestors, and Great Man

Above (_čal duong mal_) to distinguish him from the other great men on

earth. Nyakang, as we know, was an historical personage; he led the

Shilluks to the land which they now occupy; he helped them to victory,

made them great and warlike, regulated marriage and law, distributed the

country among them, divided it into districts, and in order to increase

the dependence of the people on him and to show them his power, became

their greatest benefactor by giving himself out as the bestower of

rain.”(434) Yet Nyakang is now universally revered by the people as a

demi-god; indeed for all practical purposes his worship quite eclipses

that of the supreme god Juok, the creator, who, having ordered the world,

committed it to the care of ancestral spirits and demons, and now,

dwelling aloft, concerns himself no further with human affairs. Hence men

pay little heed to their creator and seldom take his name into their lips

except in a few conventional forms of salutation at meeting and parting

like our “Good-bye.” Far otherwise is it with Nyakang. He “is the ancestor

of the Shilluk nation and the founder of the Shilluk dynasty. He is

worshipped, sacrifices and prayers are offered to him; he may be said to

be lifted to the rank of a demi-god, though they never forget that he has

been a real man. He is expressly designated as ‘little’ in comparison with

God.” Yet “in the political, religious and personal life Nyakang takes a

far more important place than Juok. Nyakang is the national hero, of whom

each Shilluk feels proud, who is praised in innumerable popular songs and

sayings; he is not only a superior being, but also a man. He is the

sublime model for every true Shilluk; everything they value most in their

national and private life has its origin in him: their kingdom and their

fighting as well as cattle-breeding and farming. While Nyakang is their

good father, who only does them good, Juok is the great, uncontrollable

power, which is to be propitiated, in order to avoid his inflictions of

evil.”(435) Indeed “the whole working religion of the Shilluk is a cult of

Nyakang, the semi-divine ancestor of their kings, in each of whom his

spirit is immanent.”(436) The transmission of the divine or semi-divine

spirit of Nyakang to the reigning monarch appears to take place at the

king’s installation and to be effected by means of a rude wooden effigy of

Nyakang, in which the spirit of that deified man is perhaps supposed to be

immanent. But however the spiritual transmission may be carried out, “the

fundamental idea of the cult of the Shilluk divine kings is the immanence

in each of the spirit of Nyakang.”(437) Thus the Shilluk kings are

encircled with a certain halo of divinity because they are thought to be

animated by the divine spirit of their ancestor, the founder of the

dynasty.

(M138) The universal belief of the Shilluks in the former humanity of

Nyakang is strongly confirmed by the exact parallelism which prevails

between his worship and that of the dead kings his successors. Like them

he is worshipped at his tomb; but unlike them he has not one tomb only,

but ten scattered over the country. Each of these tombs is called “the

grave of Nyakang,” though the people well know that nobody is buried

there. Like the grave-shrines of the other kings, those of Nyakang consist

of a small group of circular huts of the ordinary pattern enclosed by a

fence. Only children under puberty and the few old people whose duty it is

to take care of the shrines may enter these sacred enclosures. The rites

performed at them resemble those observed at the shrines of the kings. Two

great ceremonies are annually performed at the shrines of Nyakang: one is

observed before the beginning of the rainy season in order to ensure a due

supply of rain; the other is a thanksgiving at harvest, when porridge made

from the new grain is poured out on the threshold of Nyakang’s hut and

smeared on the outer walls of the building. Even before the millet is

reaped the people cut some of the ripening ears and thrust them into the

thatch of the sacred hut. Thus it would seem that the Shilluks believe

themselves to be dependent on the favour of Nyakang for the rain and the

crops. “As the giver of rain, Nyakang is the first and greatest benefactor

of the people. In that country rain is everything, without rain there is

nothing. The Shilluk does not trouble his head about artificial

irrigation, he waits for the rain. If the rain falls, then the millet

grows, the cows thrive, man has food and can dance and marry; for that is

the ideal of the Shilluks.”(438) Sick people also bring or send sheep as

an offering to the nearest shrine of Nyakang in order that they may be

healed of their sickness. The attendants of the sanctuary slaughter the

animal, consume its flesh, and give the sufferer the benefit of their

prayers.(439)

(M139) The example of Nyakang seems to show that under favourable

circumstances the worship of a dead king may develop into the dominant

religion of a people. There is, therefore, no intrinsic improbability in

the view that in ancient Egypt the religion of Osiris originated in that

way. Certainly some curious resemblances can be traced between the dead

Nyakang and the dead Osiris. Both died violent and mysterious deaths: the

graves of both were pointed out in many parts of the country: both were

deemed the great sources of fertility for the whole land: and both were

associated with certain sacred trees and animals, particularly with bulls.

And just as Egyptian kings identified themselves both in life and in death

with their deified predecessor Osiris, so Shilluk kings are still believed

to be animated by the spirit of their deified predecessor Nyakang and to

share his divinity.

(M140) Another African people who regularly worship, or rather used to

worship, the spirits of their dead kings are the Baganda. Their country

Uganda lies at the very source of the Nile, where the great river issues

from Lake Victoria Nyanza. Among them the ghosts of dead kings were placed

on an equality with the gods and received the same honour and worship;

they foretold events which concerned the State, and they advised the

living king, warning him when war was likely to break out. The king

consulted them periodically, visiting first one and then another of the

temples in which the mortal remains of his predecessors were preserved

with religious care. But the temple (_malolo_) of a king contained only

his lower jawbone and his navel-string (_mulongo_); his body was buried

elsewhere.(440) For curiously enough the Baganda believed that the part of

the body to which the ghost of a dead man adheres above all others is the

lower jawbone; wherever that portion of his person may be carried, the

ghost, in the opinion of these people, will follow it, even to the ends of

the earth, and will be perfectly content to remain with it so long as the

jawbone is honoured.(441) Hence the jawbones of all the kings of Uganda

from the earliest times to the present day have been preserved with the

utmost care, each of them being deposited, along with the stump of the

monarch’s navel-string, in a temple specially dedicated to the worship of

the king’s ghost; for it is believed that the ghosts of the deceased

monarchs would quarrel if they shared the same temple, the question of

precedence being one which it would be very difficult for them to adjust

to their mutual satisfaction.(442) All the temples of the dead kings stand

in the district called Busiro, which means the place of the graves,

because the tombs as well as the temples of the departed potentates are

situated within its boundaries. The supervision of the temples and of the

estates attached to them was a duty incumbent on the _Mugema_ or earl of

Busiro, one of the few hereditary chiefs in the country. His principal

office was that of Prime Minister (_Katikiro_) to the dead kings.(443)

(M141) When a king dies, his body is sent to Busiro and there embalmed.

Then it is laid to rest in a large round house, which has been built for

its reception on the top of a hill. This is the king’s tomb. It is a

conical structure supported by a central post, with a thatched roof

reaching down to the ground. Round the hut a high strong fence of reeds is

erected, and an outer fence encircles the whole at some distance lower

down the hill. Here the body is placed on a bedstead; the sepulchral

chamber is filled with bark cloths till it can hold no more, the mainpost

is cut down, and the door of the tomb closed, so that no one can enter it

again. When that was done, the wives of the late king used to be brought,

with their arms pinioned, and placed at intervals round the outer wall of

the tomb, where they were clubbed to death. Hundreds of men were also

killed in the space between the two fences, that their ghosts might wait

on the ghost of the dead king in the other world. None of their bodies

were buried; they were left to rot where they fell. Then the gates in the

fences were closed; and three chiefs with their men guarded the dead

bodies from the wild beasts and the vultures. But the hut in which the

king’s body reposed was never repaired; it was allowed to moulder and fall

into decay.(444)

(M142) Five months later the jawbone of the royal corpse was removed in

order to be fashioned into an effigy or representative of the dead king.

For this purpose three chiefs entered the tomb, not through the door, but

by cutting a hole through the wall, and having severed the head from the

body they brought it out, carefully filling up the hole in the wall behind

them, replacing the thatch, and securing the gates in the fence. When the

jawbone had been removed by a chief of the Civet clan, the skull was sent

back to Busiro and buried with honour near the mouldering tomb. In

contrast to the neglect of the tomb where the royal body lay, the place

where the skull was buried was kept in good repair and guarded by some of

the old princesses and widows. As for the jawbone, it was put in an

ant-hill and left there till the ants had eaten away all the flesh. Then,

after it had been washed in beer and milk, it was decorated with

cowry-shells and placed in a wooden vessel; this vessel was next wrapt in

bark cloths till it assumed a conical shape, about two and a half feet

high by a foot and a half broad at the base. This conical packet,

decorated on the outside with beads, was treated as an image of the

deceased king or rather as if it were the king himself in life, for it was

called simply “The King.” Beside it was placed the stump of the king’s

navel-string, similarly wrapt in bark cloths and decorated, though not

made up into a conical shape.(445) The reason for preserving both the

jawbone and the navel-string was that the ghost of the king was supposed

to attach itself to his jawbone, and the ghost of his double to his

navel-string. For in the belief of the Baganda every person has a double,

namely, the afterbirth or placenta, which is born immediately after him

and is regarded by the people as a second child. Now that double has a

ghost of its own, which adheres to the navel-string; and if the person is

to remain healthy, it is essential that the ghost of his double should be

carefully preserved. Hence every Baganda man and woman keeps his or her

navel-string wrapt up in bark cloth as a treasure of great price on which

his health and prosperity are dependent; the precious little bundle is

called his Twin (_mulongo_), because it contains the ghost of his double,

the afterbirth. If that is deemed necessary for everybody, much more is it

deemed essential for the welfare of the king; hence during his life the

stump of his navel-string is kept, as we saw,(446) by one of the principal

ministers of state and is inspected by the king himself every month. And

when his majesty has departed this life, the unity of his spirit

imperatively demands that his own ghost and the ghost of his double should

be kept together in the same place; that is why the jawbone and the

navel-string of every dead king are carefully preserved in the same

temple, because the two ghosts adhere respectively to these two parts of

his person, and it would be unreasonable and indeed cruel to divide

them.(447)

(M143) The two ghosts having been thus safely lodged in the two precious

parcels, the next thing was to install them in the temple, where they were

to enter on their career of beneficent activity. A site having been

chosen, the whole country supplied the labour necessary for building the

temple; and ministers were appointed to wait upon the dead king. The

officers of state who had held important posts during his life retained

their titles and continued to discharge their duties towards their old

master in death. Accordingly houses were built for them near the temple.

The dowager queen also took up her residence at the entrance to the temple

enclosure, and became its principal guardian. Many also of the king’s

widows of lower rank were drafted off to live inside the enclosure and

keep watch over it. When the queen or any of these widows died, her place

was supplied by another princess or a woman of the same clan; for the

temple was maintained in perpetuity. However, when the reigning king died,

the temple of his predecessor lost much of its importance, though it was

still kept up in a less magnificent style; indeed no temple of a dead king

was allowed to disappear altogether.(448) Of all the attendants at the

temple the most important probably was the prophet or medium (_mandwa_),

whose business it was from time to time to be inspired by the ghost of the

deceased monarch and to give oracles in his name. To this holy office he

dedicated himself by drinking a draught of beer and a draught of milk out

of the dead king’s skull.(449)

(M144) The temple consecrated to the worship of a king regularly stood on

a hill. The site was generally chosen by the king in his life, but

sometimes his choice was set aside by his successor, who gave orders to

build the temple in another place.(450) The structure was a large conical

or bee-hive-shaped hut of the ordinary pattern, divided internally into

two chambers, an outer and an inner. Any person might enter the outer

chamber, but the inner was sacred and no profane person might set foot in

it; for there the holy relics of the dead king, his jawbone and his

navel-string, were kept for safety in a cell dug in the floor, and there,

in close attendance on them, the king’s ghost was believed to dwell. In

front of the partition which screened this Holy of Holies from the gaze of

the multitude there stood a throne, covered with lion and leopard skins

and fenced off from the rest of the sacred edifice by a glittering rail of

brass spears, shields, and knives. A forest of poles, supporting the roof,

formed a series of aisles in perfect line, and at the end of the central

nave appeared, like the altar of a Christian church, the throne in all its

glory. When the king’s ghost held a reception, the holy relics, the

jawbone and the navel-string, each in its decorated wrappings, were

brought forth and set on the throne; and every person who entered the

temple bowed to the ground and greeted the jawbone in an awestruck voice,

for he regarded it as the king in person. Solemn music played during the

reception, the drums rolling and the women chanting, while they clapped

their hands to the rhythm of the songs. Sometimes the dead king spoke to

the congregation by the voice of his prophet. That was a great event. When

the oracle was about to be given to the expectant throng, the prophet

stepped up to the throne, and addressing the spirit informed him of the

business in hand. Then he smoked one or two pipes, and the fumes bringing

on the prophetic fit, he began to rave and to speak in the very voice and

with the characteristic turns of speech of the departed monarch, for the

king’s spirit was now in him. This message from the world beyond the grave

was naturally received with rapt attention. Gradually the fit of

inspiration passed: the voice of the prophet resumed its natural tones:

the spirit had departed from him and returned to its abode in the inner

room. Such a solemn audience used to be announced beforehand by the

beating of the drums in the early morning, and the worshippers brought

with them to the temple offerings of food for the dead king, as if he were

still alive.(451)

(M145) But the greatest day of all was when the reigning king visited the

temple of his father. This he did as a rule only once during his reign.

Nor did the people approve of the visits being repeated, for each visit

was the signal for the death of many. Yet, attracted by a painful

curiosity, crowds assembled, followed the monarch to the temple, and

thronged to see the great ceremony of the meeting between the king and the

ghost of his royal father. The sacred relics were displayed: an old man

explained them to the monarch and placed them in his hands: the prophet,

inspired by the dead king’s spirit, revealed to the living king his

destiny. The interview over, the king was carried back to his house. It

was on the return journey that he always gave, suddenly and without

warning, the signal of death. Obedient to his orders the guards rushed

upon the crowd, captured hundreds of spectators, pinioned them, marched

them back to the temple, and slaughtered them within the precincts, that

their ghosts might wait on the ghost of the dead king.(452) But though the

king rarely visited his father’s ghost at the temple, he had a private

chapel for the ghost within the vast enclosure of the royal residence; and

here he often paid his devotions to the august spirit, of whom he stood

greatly in awe. He took his wives with him to sing the departed monarch’s

praise, and he constantly made offerings at the shrine. Thither, too,

would come the prophet to suck words of wisdom from the venerable ghost

and to impart them to the king, who thus walked in the counsel of his

glorified father.(453)

(M146) In Kiziba, a district of Central Africa on the western side of Lake

Victoria Nyanza, the souls of dead kings become ruling spirits; temples

are built in their honour and priests appointed to serve them. The people

are composed of two different races, the Bairu, who are aboriginals, and

the Bahima, who are immigrants from the north. The royal family belongs to

the Bahima stock. In his lifetime the king’s person is sacred; and all his

actions, property, and so forth are described by special terms

appropriated to that purpose. The people are divided into totemic clans:

the totems (_muziro_) are mostly animals or parts of animals: no man may

kill or eat his totem animal, nor marry a woman who has the same totem as

himself. The royal family seems to have serpents for their totem; after

death the king’s soul lives in a serpent, while his body is buried in the

hut where he died. The people revere a supreme god named Rugaba, who is

believed to have created man and cattle; but they know little about him,

and though they occasionally pray to him, particularly in the case of a

difficult birth, he has no priests and receives no sacrifices. The

business of the priests is to act as intermediaries, not between God and

man, but between men and the spirits. The spirits are believed to have

been formerly kings of the world. The highest of them is a certain Wamara,

who rules over the souls of the dead, and who would seem to have been a

great king in his life. Temples are built for him; they are like the

houses of men, but only half as large. A perpetual holy fire is kept up in

each temple, and the priest passes the night in it. He receives white

sheep or goats as victims, and generally acts also as a diviner or

physician. When a man is very ill, he thinks that Wamara, the lord of the

spirits of the dead, is summoning him to the far country; so he sends a

sacrifice to Wamara’s priest, who prays to the spirit to let the sick man

live yet a while.(454) This great spirit of an ancient king, who now rules

over the dead, resembles the Egyptian Osiris.

(M147) The Bantu tribes who inhabit the great tableland of Northern

Rhodesia revere a supreme being whom they call Leza, but their ideas about

him are hazy. Thunder, lightning, earthquakes, rain, and other natural

phenomena are grouped together under his name as manifestations of his

power. Among the more progressive tribes, such as the Awemba and the

Wabisa, the great god is thought to take some interest in human affairs;

and though they do not pray to him, they nevertheless invoke him by his

names of praise, which set forth his attributes as the protector and judge

of mankind. It is he, too, who receives the souls of the departed. “Yet,

as far as the dominant Wemba tribe is concerned, the cult of Leza is

outside their ordinary religion. There is no direct access to him by

prayer or by sacrifices, which are made to Mulenga and the other great

tribal and ancestral spirits instead. For upon such animism is founded the

whole fabric of Wemba religion.”(455) The ancestral spirits whom the

Awemba and all other tribes of this region worship may be divided into two

main classes. First come the spirits of departed chiefs, who are publicly

worshipped by the whole tribe; and second come the spirits of near

relations who are worshipped privately by each head of a family.(456)

“Among the Awemba there is no special shrine for these purely family

spirits, who are worshipped inside the hut, and to whom family sacrifice

of a sheep, a goat, or a fowl is made, the spirit receiving the blood

spilt on the ground, while all the members of the family partake of the

flesh together. For a religious Wemba man the cult of the spirit of his

nearest relations (of his grandparents, or of his deceased father, mother,

elder brother, or maternal uncle) is considered quite sufficient. Out of

these spirit relatives a man will worship one whom he considers as his

special familiar, for various reasons. For instance, the diviner may have

told him that his last illness was caused because he had not respected the

spirit of his uncle; accordingly he will be careful in future to adopt his

uncle as his tutelary spirit. As a mark of such respect he may devote a

cow or a goat to one of the spirits of his ancestors. Holding the fowl,

for instance, in his hands, he will dedicate it, asking the spirit to come

and abide in it, upon which the fowl is let go, and is afterwards called

by the name of the spirit. If the necessities, however, of the larder

demand that it should be killed, another animal is taken, and the spirit

is asked to accept it as a substitute! Before beginning any special task,

such as hoeing a new garden, or going on a journey, Wemba men invoke their

tutelary spirits to be with them and to assist their efforts, in short

ejaculatory prayers usually couched in a set formula. Among many of the

tribes in the North Luangwa district longer formal prayers are still made

to all the deceased ancestors of the clan at the time of harvest, asking

them to protect the crops and to drive away illnesses and evil spirits

from the family, which honours them with libations of beer and offerings

of the first-fruits.”(457)

(M148) Thus among these tribes, who all belong to the great Bantu family,

the public worship which a whole tribe pays to the souls of its dead

chiefs is probably nothing but an extension of the private worship which

every family pays privately to the souls of its dead members. And just as

the members of his family whom a man worships privately are not mythical

beings conjured up by imagination out of a distant past, but were once

real men like himself whom he knew in life, it may be his father, or

uncle, or elder brother, so we may be sure that in like manner the dead

chiefs revered by the whole tribe are not creations of the mythical fancy,

but were once real men of flesh and blood, who ruled over the tribe, and

whose memory has been more or less faithfully preserved by tradition. In

this respect the tribes of Northern Rhodesia are typical of all the tribes

of that great Bantu family which occupies nearly the whole southern half

of Africa, from the great equatorial lakes to the Cape of Good Hope. The

main practical religion of all these numerous and widespread peoples

appears to be the worship of their ancestors.

(M149) To adduce in full the evidence which points to this conclusion

would lead us too far from our present subject; it must suffice to cite a

few typical statements of competent authorities which refer to different

tribes of the Bantu stock. Speaking with special reference to the tribes

of South-Eastern Africa, the Rev. James Macdonald tells us that “the

religion of the Bantu, which they not only profess but really regulate

their conduct by, is based on the belief that the spirits of their

ancestors interfere constantly in their affairs. Every man worships his

own ancestors and offers sacrifices to avert their wrath. The clan

worships the spirits of the ancestors of its chiefs, and the tribe

worships the spirits of the ancestors of the paramount chief.”(458) “The

religion of the Bantu was based upon the supposition of the existence of

spirits that could interfere with the affairs of this world. These spirits

were those of their ancestors and their deceased chiefs, the greatest of

whom had control over lightning. When the spirits became offended or

hungry they sent a plague or disaster until sacrifices were offered and

their wrath or hunger was appeased. The head of a family of commoners on

such an occasion killed an animal, and all ate of the meat, as the hungry

ghost was supposed to be satisfied with the smell.”(459) For example, in

the year 1891 the son of a chief of the Pondomisi tribe was arrested for

an assault and sent for trial before a colonial court. It chanced to be a

season of intense heat and severe drought, and the Pondomisi tribe

attributed these calamities to the wrath of a dead chief named Gwanya,

very famous in his lifetime, whose body, fastened to a log, had been

buried under a heap of stones in a deep pool of the Lina river. This

redoubtable chieftain was the seventh ancestor in the direct line of the

man who had committed the assault; and he warmly resented the indignity

which the whites had done to a noble scion of his house by consigning him

to durance vile. To appease the natural indignation of the ghost, the

tribesmen killed cattle on the banks of the pool which contained his

grave, and threw the flesh into the water along with new dishes full of

beer. The prisoner, however, was convicted of the assault and sentenced by

the ruthless magistrate, who was no respecter of ghosts, to pay a fine.

But the tribe clubbed together and paid the fine for him; and a few days

later rain fell in plenty. The mollified ghost had opened the celestial

sluices.(460)

(M150) Another writer, describing the religion of the South African

Bantus, tells us that “the ancestral spirits love the very things they

loved before they passed through the flesh; they cherish the same desires

and have the same antipathies. The living cannot add to the number of the

wives of ancestral spirits; but they can kill cattle in their honour and

keep their praise and memory alive on earth. Above all things, they can

give them beef and beer. And if the living do not give them sufficient of

these things the spirits are supposed to give the people a bad time: they

send drought, and sickness, and famine, until people kill cattle in their

honour. When men are alive they love to be praised and flattered, fed and

attended to; after death they want the very same things, for death does

not change personality.... In time of drought, or sickness, or great

trouble, there would be great searchings of heart as to which ancestor had

been neglected, for the trouble would be supposed to be caused by the

neglected ancestor. Most of the people would get the subject on their

nerves (at least, as far as a Kafir could get anything on the leather

strings which do duty for nerves), and some one would be sure to have a

vivid dream in which an ancestor would complain that the people had not

praised him half enough of late. So an ox would be killed, either by the

head-man of the kraal or by a diviner. Then the man would say over the ox

as it was being killed, ‘Cry out, ox of So-and-So; listen to us,

So-and-So; this is your ox; we praise you by all your laud-giving names,

and tell of all your deeds; do not be angry with us any more; do you not

see that this is your ox? Do not accuse us of neglecting you; when,

forsooth, have we ceased to praise you and offer you meat and beer? Take

note, then, that here is another ox we are offering to you.’ When the ox

is dead some of the meat is mixed with herbs and medicines and placed in a

hut with a bowlful of blood. This meat is placed in the part of the hut

where the man loved to sit while he was alive, and some one is told off to

guard the sacrifice. The meat is left for a night, or longer, and the

spirits are supposed to come and enjoy the smell, or drink the serum which

oozes from the meat, and to inhale the smell of the beer. The priest or

diviner will then sprinkle the people and the huts with medicine made from

the contents of the stomach of the ox. He places a little on a sherd; when

this is dry he burns it and calls on the spirits to smell the incense.

After the meat has been left for a certain time it is taken out and

cooked, and eaten by the men near the cattle kraal in public.... If the

trouble does not vanish after this ceremony the people get angry and say

to the spirits, ‘When have we ceased to kill cattle for you, and when have

we ever refused to praise you by your praise-names? Why, then, do you

treat us so shabbily? If you do not behave better we shall utterly forget

your names, and then what will you do when there is no one to praise you?

You will have to go and live on grasshoppers. If you do not mend your ways

we shall forget you. What use is it that we kill oxen for you and praise

you? You do not give us rain or crops, or cause our cattle to bear well;

you show no gratitude in return for all we do for you. We shall utterly

disown you. We shall tell the people that, as for us, we have no ancestral

spirits, and this will be to your shame. We are disgusted with

you.’ ”(461) Thus the sweet savour of beef and beer does not suffice to

content Caffre ghosts; they share the love of praise and flattery with

many gods of higher rank.

(M151) Among the Basutos, an important Bantu people of South Africa, “each

family is supposed to be under the direct influence and protection of its

ancestors; but the tribe, taken as a whole, acknowledges for its national

gods the ancestors of the reigning sovereign. Thus, the Basutos address

their prayers to Monaheng and Motlumi, from whom their chiefs are

descended. The Baharutsis and the Barolongs invoke Tobege and his wife

Mampa. Mampa makes known the will of her husband, announcing each of her

revelations by these words, ‘_O re! O re!_’ ‘He has said! he has said!’

They make a distinction between the ancient and modern divinities. The

latter are considered inferior in power, but more accessible; hence this

formula, which is often used: ‘New gods! entreat the ancient gods for us!’

In all countries spirits are more the objects of fear than of love. A deep

feeling of terror generally accompanies the idea that the dead dispose of

the lot of the living. The ancients spoke much of incensed shades. If they

sacrificed to the manes, it was generally in order to appease them. These

ideas perfectly correspond to those of the Basutos. They conjure rather

than pray; although they seek to gain favours, they think more of averting

chastisement. Their predominating idea as to their ancestors is, that they

are continually endeavouring to draw them to themselves. Every disease is

attributed to them; thus medicine among these people is almost entirely a

religious affair. The first thing is to discover, by means of the

_litaola_ (divining bones), under the influence of what _molimo_ the

patient is supposed to be. Is it an ancestor on the father’s side or the

mother’s? According as fate decides, the paternal or maternal uncle will

offer the purifying sacrifice, but rarely the father or brother. This

sacrifice alone can render efficacious the medicines prescribed by the

_ngaka_ (doctor).... As soon as a person is dead he takes his place among

the family gods. His remains are deposited in the cattle-pen. An ox is

immolated over his grave: this is the first oblation made to the new

divinity, and at the same time an act of intercession in his favour,

serving to ensure his happy reception in the subterranean regions. All

those present aid in sprinkling the grave, and repeat the following

prayer: ‘Repose in peace with the gods; give us tranquil nights.’ ”(462)

(M152) Similarly among the Thonga, another Bantu tribe of South Africa,

“any man, who has departed this earthly life, becomes a _shikwembu_, a

god”;(463) “when an old decrepit man or woman dies, he at once becomes a

god: he has entered the domain of infinity.”(464) In this tribe “the

spirits of the ancestors are the main objects of religious worship. They

form the principal category of spirits.”(465) “On the one hand, the

ancestor-gods are truly gods, endowed with the attributes of divinity;

whilst, on the other, they seem to be nothing but mere human beings,

exactly on the same level as their worshippers.”(466) There are two great

classes of these ancestor-gods, to wit, “those of the family, and those of

the country, the latter being those of the reigning family. They do not

differ as regards their nature. In national calamities those of the

country are invoked, whilst, for purely family matters, those of the

family are called upon. Moreover, each family has two sets of gods, those

on the father’s side and those on the mother’s, those of _kweru_ and those

of _bakokwana_. They are equal in dignity. Both can be invoked, and the

divinatory bones are always asked to which the offering must be made. It

seems, however, as if the gods on the mother’s side were more

tender-hearted and more popular than those on the father’s. The reason for

this is, perhaps, that relations are easier with the family of the mother

than with that of the father. It is also just possible that it is a relic

of the matriarchal period, when the ancestors of the mother only were

known, and consequently invoked. At any rate, the part played by

_batukulu_ [uterine] nephews in the offerings shows that they are the true

representatives of the gods, not of those of their father, but of their

mother.”(467) Among the Thonga “the belief in the continuation of life

after death is universal, being at the base of the ancestrolatry, which is

the religion of the tribe.”(468) “How real is the ancestrolatry, the

religion of the Thonga, of, in fact, all the South African Bantus! How

frequent and manifold are its manifestations! This is the first, and the

most perceptible set of their religious intuitions, and any European, who

has stayed in their villages, learnt their language, and tried to

understand their customs, has had the opportunity of familiarizing himself

with this religion.”(469)

(M153) Among the Basutos and Bechuanas, who also belong to the great Bantu

family, the sacrificial ritual is not highly developed. “Only in great

misfortunes which affect the whole people or the royal family, a black ox

is slaughtered; for in such cases they always think that the angry spirits

of the departed are the cause of all the suffering. ‘_Re amogioa ki

badimo_,’ say the people, ‘the spirits are robbing us.’ The ox is led to

the chiefs grave; there they pray, ‘Lord, we are come to call upon thee,

we who are thy children; make not our hearts troubled; take not, Lord,

that which is ours.’ The old chief is honoured and praised in songs, he is

invoked by all his praise-names, the ox is killed and its flesh eaten, but

the blood and the contents of the stomach are poured on the grave, and

there the bones of the sacrificed animal are also deposited.”(470)

(M154) The Zulus, another great Bantu tribe of South Africa, believe in

the existence of a being whom they call Unkulunkulu, which means “the

Old-Old-one, the most ancient man.” They say that “it is he who was the

first man; he broke off in the beginning. We do not know his wife; and the

ancients do not tell us that he had a wife.”(471) This Old-Old-one or

Great-Great-one “is represented as having made all things—men, cattle,

water, fire, the mountains, and whatever else is seen. He is also said to

have appointed their names. Creation was effected by splitting a reed,

when the first man and other things issued from the cleft.”(472) Further,

the Zulus and other Caffre tribes of Natal “believe that, when a person

dies, his _i-hloze_ or _isi-tute_ survives. These words are translated

‘spirit,’ and there seems no objection to the rendering. They refer to

something manifestly distinguished from the body, and the nature of which

the prophets endeavour to explain by saying that it is identical with the

shadow. The residence of the _ama-hloze_, or spirits, seems to be beneath;

the practice of breaking a man’s assagais, before they are buried with

him, shows that he is believed to return to earth through the grave; while

it appears to be generally thought that, if the earth were removed from

the grave, the ghost would return and frighten his descendants. When

spirits have entered the future state, they are believed to possess great

power; prosperity is ascribed to their favour, and misfortune to their

anger; they are elevated in fact to the rank of deities, and (except where

the Great-Great is worshipped concurrently with them) they are the only

objects of a Kafir’s adoration. Their attention (or providence) is limited

to their own relatives—a father caring for the family, and a chief for the

tribe, which they respectively left behind them. They are believed to

occupy the same relative position as they did in the body, the departed

spirit of a chief being sometimes invoked to compel a man’s ancestors to

bless him.”(473)

(M155) “To these shades of the dead, especially to the ghosts of their

great men, as Jama, Senzangakona, and Chaka, their former kings, they look

for help, and offer sacrifices; that is, slaughter cattle to them, and

offer a sort of prayer, in time of danger and distress.... When they are

sick, they slaughter cattle to the shades, and say, ‘Father, look on me,

that this disease may cease from me. Let me have health on the earth, and

live a long time.’ They carry the meat into the house, and shut it up

there, saying, ‘Let the paternal shades eat, so shall they know that the

offering was made for them, and grant us great wealth, so that both we and

our children may prosper.’ In the cattle-fold they talk a long time,

praising the ghosts; they take the contents of the stomach, and strew it

upon all the fold. Again they take it, and strew it within the houses,

saying, ‘Hail, friend! Thou of such a place, grant us a blessing,

beholding what we have done. You see this distress; may you remove it,

since we have given you our animal. We know not what more you want,

whether you still require anything more or not.’ They say, ‘May you grant

us grain, that it may be abundant, that we may eat, of course, and not be

in need of anything, since now we have given you what you want.’ They say,

‘Yes, for a long time have you preserved me in all my going. Behold, you

see, I have just come to have a kraal. This kraal was built by yourself,

father; and now why do you consent to diminish your own kraal? Build on us

as you have begun, let it be large, that your offspring, still here above,

may increase, increasing in knowledge of you, whence cometh great power.’

Sometimes they make beer for the ghosts, and leave a little in the pot,

saying, ‘It will be eaten by the ghosts that they may grant an abundant

harvest again, that we may not have a famine.’ If one is on the point of

being injured by anything, he says, ‘I was preserved by our divinity,

which was still watching over me.’ Perhaps he slaughters a goat in honour

of the same, and puts the gall on his head; and when the goat cries out

for pain of being killed, he says, ‘Yes, then, there is your animal, let

it cry, that ye may hear, ye our gods who have preserved me; I myself am

desirous of living on thus a long time here on the earth; why then do you

call me to account, since I think I am all right in respect to you? And

while I live, I put my trust in you, our paternal and maternal

gods.’ ”(474)

(M156) “Black people,” say the Zulus, “do not worship all Amatongo

indifferently, that is, all the dead of their tribe. Speaking generally,

the head of each house is worshipped by the children of that house; for

they do not know the ancients who are dead, nor their laud-giving names,

nor their names. But their father whom they knew is the head by whom they

begin and end in their prayer, for they know him best, and his love for

his children; they remember his kindness to them whilst he was living;

they compare his treatment of them whilst he was living, support

themselves by it, and say, ‘He will still treat us in the same way now he

is dead. We do not know why he should regard others besides us; he will

regard us only.’ So it is then although they worship the many Amatongo of

their tribe, making a great fence around them for their protection; yet

their father is far before all others when they worship the Amatongo.

Their father is a great treasure to them even when he is dead. And those

of his children who are already grown up know him thoroughly, his

gentleness, and his bravery. And if there is illness in the village, the

eldest son lauds him with the laud-giving names which he gained when

fighting with the enemy, and at the same time lauds all the other

Amatongo; the son reproves the father, saying, ‘We for our parts may just

die. Who are you looking after? Let us die all of us, that we may see into

whose house you will enter.(475) You will eat grasshoppers; you will no

longer be invited to go anywhere, if you destroy your own village.’ After

that, because they have worshipped him, they take courage saying, ‘He has

heard; he will come and treat our diseases, and they will cease.’ Such

then is the faith which children have in the Itongo [ancestral spirit]

which is their father. And if there is a chief wife of a village, who has

given birth to children, and if her husband is not dead, her Itongo is

much reverenced by her husband and all the children. And that chief wife

becomes an Itongo which takes great care of the village. But it is the

father especially that is the head of the village.”(476) Thus among the

Zulus it is the spirits of those who have just died, especially the

spirits of fathers and mothers, who are most revered and worshipped. The

spirits of the more remote dead are forgotten.

(M157) When the missionaries inquired into the religious ideas of the

Herero, a Bantu tribe of German South-West Africa, they heard much of a

certain Mukuru, whom at first they took to be the great god of heaven and

earth. Accordingly they adopted Mukuru as the native name for the

Christian God, and set out on their mission to preach the glad tidings of

Mukuru and his divine Son to the poor benighted heathen. But their first

experiences were disconcerting. Again and again when they arrived in a

village and announced their intention to the chief, they were brought up

very short by that great man, who told them with an air of astonishment

that he himself was Mukuru. For example, Messrs. Büttner and Irle paid a

visit to an old chief named Tjenda and remonstrated with him on the

impropriety of which he had been guilty in giving a baptized girl in

marriage to a native gentleman whose domestic arrangements were framed on

the polygamous patriarchal pattern. “Mukuru will punish you for that,”

said Mr. Büttner. “What?” roared the chief. “Who’s Mukuru? Why, I am

Mukuru in my own tribe,” and he bundled the two missionaries out of the

village. A repetition of these painful incidents at last impressed on the

minds of the missionaries the conviction that Mukuru was not God at all

but merely the head of a family, an ancestor, whether alive or dead.(477)

They ascertained at the same time that the Herero recognize a good god who

dwells in heaven and bears the name of Ndjambi Karunga. But they do not

worship him nor bring him offerings, because he is so kind that he hurts

nobody, and therefore they need not fear him. “Rather they share the

opinion of the other Bantu tribes that Ndjambi, the good Creator, has

withdrawn to heaven and left the government on earth to the demons.”(478)

“It is true that the Herero are acquainted with punishment for what is

bad. But that punishment they ascribe to Mukuru or their ancestors. It is

their ancestors (_Ovakuru_(479)) whom they must fear; it is they who are

angry and can bring danger and misfortune on a man. So it is intelligible

that the whole of their worship turns, not on Ndjambi Karunga, but on

their ancestors. It is in order to win and keep their favour, to avert

their displeasure and wrath, in short to propitiate them, that the Herero

bring their many offerings; they do so not out of gratitude, but out of

fear, not out of love, but out of terror. Their religion is a worship of

ancestors with here and there touches of fetishism.”(480) “Thus among the

Herero, as among all Bantu tribes, there exists a religious dualism: they

know the highest, the true God, but they worship their ancestors.”(481)

And among the worshipful ancestors “the old dead chiefs of every tribe

take the first place. The son of a great dead chief and the whole tribe

worship that old father as their god. But the remote ancestors of that

chief they do not worship, indeed they hardly know them by name and can no

longer point to their graves.”(482) Thus with the Herero, as with the

Zulus, it is the recent and well-remembered dead who are chiefly or

exclusively worshipped; as the souls of the departed recede further and

further into the past their memory perishes, and the nimbus of

supernatural glory which encircled it for a time fades gradually away.

(M158) The religion of the Ovambo, another Bantu tribe of German

South-West Africa, is similar. They also recognize a great being named

Kalunga, who created the world and man, but they neither fear nor worship

him. A far greater part is played in the religion of the Ovambo by their

belief in spirits, and amongst the worshipful spirits a conspicuous place

is assigned to the souls of the dead. Every man leaves behind him at death

a spirit, which continues to exist on earth and can influence the living;

for example, it may enter into their bodies and thereby cause all sorts of

sickness. However, the souls of ordinary dead men can exert their

influence only on members of their own families; the souls of dead chiefs,

on the other hand, have power over the rain, which they can either give or

withhold. To these powerful spirits a portion of the new corn is offered

at harvest as a thank-offering for their forbearance in not visiting the

people with sickness, and above all for their bounty in sending down the

fertilizing showers on the crops. The souls of dead magicians are

particularly dreaded; and to prevent the multiplication of these dangerous

spirits it is customary to dismember their bodies, severing the arms and

legs from the trunk and cutting the tongue out of the mouth. If these

precautions are taken immediately after death, the soul of the dead man

cannot become a dangerous ghost; the mutilation of his body has

practically disarmed his spirit.(483)

(M159) The Wahehe, a Bantu tribe of German East Africa, believe in a great

invisible spirit named Nguruhi, who created the world and rules both human

destiny and the elements. He it is who makes the rain to fall, the sun to

shine, the wind to blow, the thunder to roll, and the crops to grow. “This

god is accordingly conceived as all-powerful, yet with the limitation that

he only exercises a general power of direction over the world, especially

human fate, while the _masoka_, the spirits of the dead, wield a permanent

and very considerable influence on the course of particular events.

Nguruhi is lord also of all the spirits of the dead (_masoka_), but his

relation to them has not been further thought out. With this Supreme Being

the people hold no intercourse by means of prayer, sacrifice, or in any

other way. He stands remote from the religious life of the Wahehe and

really serves only as an explanation of all those things and events which

are otherwise inexplicable. All religious intercourse, all worship centres

alone on the spirits of the dead. Hence if we speak of a religion of the

Wahehe, it must be described as a pure worship of ancestors.”(484) The

human soul quits the body at death and at once becomes an ancestral spirit

(_m’soka_), invisible and endowed with complete liberty of motion. Even

the youngest children have souls which rank among the ancestral spirits at

death. Hence the great multitude of the dead comprises spirits of all

ages, from the infant one day old to the grey-haired patriarch. They are

good or bad according as they were good or bad in life, and their social

position also is unchanged. He who was powerful in life is powerful also

in death; he who was a nobody among men is a nobody also among the

spirits. Hence the ghost of a great man can do more for the living than

the ghost of a common man; and the ghost of a man can do more than the

ghost of a woman. Yet even the meanest ghost has power over the greatest

living man, who can only defend himself by appealing for help to stronger

ancestral spirits. Thus while the Supreme Being exercises a general

superintendence over affairs, the real administration is in the hands of

the ancestral spirits. While he, for example, regulates the weather as a

whole, it is the ghosts who cause each particular shower to fall or the

sun to break out in glory from the clouds. If he sends plagues on the

whole people or stays the ravages of disease, it is the ghosts who make

each individual sick or sound. These powerful spirits exert themselves

especially to help their descendants, though they do not hesitate to

plague their own kith and kin if they think themselves neglected. They

flit freely through the air and perch on trees, mountains, and so forth,

but they lodge by preference at their graves, and you are always sure of

finding them there, if you wish to consult them.(485) That is why in the

country of the Wahehe the only places of sacrifice are the graves; temples

and altars are unknown.(486) However, it is only the bodies of

considerable persons that are buried; the corpses of common folk are

simply thrown away in the bush;(487) so that the number of graves and

consequently of sacrificial places is strictly limited. The spirits of the

dead appear to the living most commonly in dreams to give them information

or warning, but oftener to chide and torment them. So the sleeper wakes in

a fright and consults a diviner, who directs him what he must do in order

to appease the angry ghost. Following the directions of his spiritual

adviser the man sacrifices an ox, or it may be only a sheep or a fowl, at

the tomb of one of his ancestors, prays to the ghost, and having scattered

a few morsels of the victim’s flesh on the grave, and spat a mouthful of

beer upon it, retires with his family to feast on the remainder of the

carcase. Such sacrifices to the dead are offered on occasion of sickness,

the lack of male heirs, a threatened war, an intended journey, in short,

before any important undertaking of which the issue is doubtful; and, they

are accompanied by prayers for health, victory, good harvests, and so

forth.(488)

(M160) Once more, the Bahima, a Bantu people of Ankole, in Central Africa,

believe in a supreme god Lugaba, who dwells in the sky and created man and

beast; but “this supreme being is not worshipped nor are offerings made to

him; he has no sacred place. Although they talk freely about him, and

acknowledge him to be their great benefactor, they accept all his gifts as

a matter of course, and make him no offering in return.... One must not,

therefore, conclude that the Bahima are an irreligious people; like most

of the Bantu tribes their religion consists chiefly in dealing with ghosts

of departed relatives, and in standing well with them; from the king to

the humblest peasant the ghosts call for daily consideration and constant

offerings, whilst the deities are only sought in case of great trials or

national calamities.”(489)

(M161) To return, now, to the worship of dead chiefs or kings among the

Bantu tribes of Northern Rhodesia. The spirits of dead chiefs had

priestesses to wait upon them, who were called the “wives of the

departed.” These were elderly women who led a celibate life and swept the

huts dedicated to the ghosts of the chiefs. The aid of these dead

potentates was invoked in time of war and in seasons of drought, and

special offerings were brought to their shrines at harvest.(490) Among the

Awemba, who form the aristocracy of the country,(491) when a diviner

announced that a drought was caused by the spirits of dead chiefs or kings

buried at Mwaruli, a bull would be sent to be sacrificed to the souls of

the deceased rulers; or if the drought was severe, a human victim would be

despatched, and the high priest would keep him caged in a stoutly woven

fish-basket, until the preparations for the sacrifice were complete.(492)

Among the Yombe no one might eat of the first-fruits of the crops until

the living chief had sacrificed a bull before the tomb of his grandfather,

and had deposited pots of fresh beer and porridge, made from the

first-fruits, in front of the shrine. The ground about the tomb was then

carefully weeded, and the blood of the sacrificial victim sprinkled on the

freshly turned up soil and on the rafters of the little hut. After

thanking the ghost of his grandfather for the harvest, and begging him to

partake of the first-fruits, the chief and his train withdrew to feast on

the carcase and the fresh porridge and beer at the village.(493) When the

head chief or king of the Awemba had resolved to make war on a distant

enemy, he and the older men of the tribe would pray daily for victory to

the spirits of the dead kings, his predecessors. The day before the army

was to set forth, the great war-drum boomed out and the warriors flocked

together from the outlying districts under their respective captains. In

the dusk of the evening the king and the elderly women, who passed for the

wives of the dead kings and tended their shrines at the capital, went and

prayed at these shrines that the souls of the departed monarchs would keep

the war-path free from foes and lead the king in a straight course to the

enemy’s stockade. These solemn prayers the king led in person, and the

women beat their bare breasts as they joined in the earnest appeal. Next

morning the whole army was marshalled in front of the ghost-huts of the

dead kings: the living king danced a war-dance before his ancestors, while

his chief wife sprinkled him with holy flour; and all prostrated

themselves in supplication before the shrines.(494)

(M162) Among these tribes of Northern Rhodesia the spirits of dead chiefs

or kings sometimes take possession of the bodies of live men or women and

prophesy through their mouths. When the spirit of a dead chief comes over

a man, he begins to roar like a lion, whereupon the women gather together

and beat the drums, shouting that the chief has come to visit the village.

The man thus temporarily inspired will prophesy of future wars or

impending attacks by lions. While the inspiration lasts, he may eat

nothing cooked by fire, but only unfermented dough. However, the spirit of

a departed chief takes possession of women oftener than of men. “These

women assert that they are possessed by the soul of some dead chief, and

when they feel the divine afflatus, whiten their faces to attract

attention, and anoint themselves with flour, which has a religious and

sanctifying potency. One of their number beats a drum, and the others

dance, singing at the same time a weird song, with curious intervals.

Finally, when they have arrived at the requisite pitch of religious

exaltation, the possessed woman falls to the ground, and bursts forth into

a low and almost inarticulate chant, which has a most uncanny effect. All

are silent at once, and the _bashing’anga_ (medicine-men) gather round to

interpret the voice of the spirit.”(495) Sometimes the spirits of departed

chiefs are reincarnated in animals, which are then revered as the abodes

of the dead rulers. Thus the paramount chief of the Amambwe is incarnated

after death in the form of a young lion, while Bisa and Wiwa chiefs come

back in the shape of pythons. In one of the rest-houses near Fife a tame

python waxed fat on the offerings of fowls and sour beer which the

Winamwanga presented to it in the fond belief that it housed the spirit of

one of their dead chiefs. One day unfortunately for himself the reptile

deity ventured to dispute the possession of the rest-house with a German

cattle-dealer who was passing by; a discharge of shot settled the dispute

in favour of the cattle-dealer, and the worshippers of the deity beheld

him no more.(496)

(M163) Another Bantu people who worship the spirits of their dead kings

are the Barotse or Marotse of the Upper Zambesi. The Barotse believe in a

supreme god, the creator of all things, whom they call Niambe. He lives in

the sun, and by his marriage with the moon begat the world, the animals,

and last of all men. But the cunning and ferocity of his creature man

terrified the beneficent creator, so that he fled from earth and escaped

up the thread of a spider’s web to heaven. There he still retains a

certain power to interfere in human affairs, and that is why men sometimes

pray and sacrifice to him. For example, the worshipper salutes the rising

sun and offers him a vessel of water, no doubt to quench the thirst of the

deity on his hot journey across the sky. Again, when a long drought has

prevailed, a black ox is sacrificed to Niambe “as a symbol of the clouds

big with the longed-for rain.” And before they sow the fields, the women

pile the seeds and their digging hoes in a heap, and pray to the god that

he would render their labour fruitful.(497)

(M164) Yet while they acknowledge the divine supremacy of Niambe, the

Barotse address their prayers most frequently to the inferior deities, the

_ditino_, who are the deified kings of the country. The tombs of the

departed monarchs may be seen near the villages which they inhabited in

life. Each tomb stands in a grove of beautiful trees and is encircled by a

tall palisade of pointed stakes, covered with fine mats, like the palisade

which surrounds the royal residence of a living king. Such an enclosure is

sacred; the people are forbidden to enter it lest they should disturb the

ghost of him who sleeps below. But the inhabitants of the nearest village

are charged with the duty of keeping the tomb and the enclosure in good

order, repairing the palisade, and replacing the mats when they are worn

out. Once a month, at the new moon, the women sweep not only the grave and

the enclosure but the whole village. The guardian of the tomb is at the

same time a priest; he acts as intermediary between the god and the people

who come to pray to the deity. He bears the title of Ngomboti; he alone

has the right to enter the sacred enclosure; the profane multitude must

stand at a respectful distance. Even the king himself, when he comes to

consult one of his ancestors, is forbidden to set foot on the holy ground.

In presence of the god, or, as they call him, the Master of the Tomb, the

monarch must bear himself like a slave in the presence of his lord. He

kneels down near the entrance, claps his hands, and gives the royal

salute; and from within the enclosure the priest solemnly returns the

salute, just as the king himself, when he holds his court, returns the

salute of his subjects. Then the suppliant, whether king or commoner,

makes his petition to the deity and deposits his offering; for no man may

pray to the god with empty hands. Inside the enclosure, close to the

entrance, is a hole which is supposed to serve as a channel of

communication with the spirit of the deified king. In it the offerings are

placed. Often they consist of milk which is poured into the hole; and the

faster it drains away, the more favourably inclined is the god thought to

be to the petitioner. More solid offerings, such as flesh, clothes, and

glass beads, become the property of the priest after they have been

allowed to lie for a decent time beside the sacred aperture of the tomb.

The spirits of dead kings are thus consulted on matters of public concern

as well as by private individuals touching their own affairs. If a war is

to be waged, if a plague is raging among the people or a murrain among the

cattle, if the land is parched with drought, in short, if any danger

threatens or any calamity has afflicted the country, recourse is had to

these local gods, dwelling each in his shady grove, not far from the

abodes of the living. They are near, but the great god in heaven is far

away. What wonder, therefore, that their help is often sought while he is

neglected? They are national heroes as well as gods; their history is

remembered; men tell of the doughty deeds they did in their lifetime; why

should they not be able to succour their votaries now that they have put

on immortality? All over the country these temple-tombs may be seen. They

serve as historical monuments to recall to the people the names of their

former kings and the annals of their country. One of the most popular of

the royal shrines is near Senanga at the southern end of the great plain

of the Barotse. Voyagers who go down the Zambesi do not fail to pay their

devotions at the shrine, that the god of the place may make their voyage

to prosper and may guard the frail canoe from shipwreck in the rush and

roar of the rapids; and when they return in safety they repair again to

the sacred spot to deposit a thank-offering for the protection of the

deity.(498)

(M165) The foregoing examples suffice to prove that the worship of dead

chiefs and kings has been an important, perhaps we may even say, the most

important element in the religion of many African tribes. Regarded from

the native point of view nothing could be more natural. The king rules

over his people in life; and since all these tribes entertain a firm and

unquestioning belief not only in the existence but in the power of the

spirits of the dead, they necessarily conclude that of all the departed

spirits none can be so potent for good or evil, none therefore need to be

propitiated so earnestly by prayer and sacrifice, as the souls of dead

kings. Thus while every family worships privately the spirits of its own

ancestors, the whole tribe worships publicly the spirits of its departed

monarchs, paying to each of these invisible potentates, whose reality they

never dream of doubting, a homage of precisely the same sort as that which

they render to his living successor on the throne. Such a religion of the

dead is by no means incompatible with the recognition of higher spiritual

powers who may have an origin quite independent of the worship of

ancestors. We have seen in point of fact that many tribes, whose practical

religion is concentrated chiefly on their dead, nevertheless acknowledge

the existence of a supreme god, the creator of man and of all things, whom

they do not regard as a glorified ghost. The Baganda, the most progressive

and advanced of all the Bantu tribes, had a whole pantheon of gods whom

they sharply distinguished from the worshipful spirits of their

forefathers.

(M166) Yet in spite of this distinction we may suspect that in many cases

the seeming line of division between gods and worshipful ghosts is

deceptive; and that the magic touch of time, which distorts and magnifies

the past, especially among peoples who see it only through the haze of

oral tradition, has glorified and transfigured many a dead man into a

deity. This at all events seems to have been the history of some of the

Baganda gods. On this subject our best authority says that “the principal

gods appear to have been at one time human beings, noted for their skill

and bravery, who were afterwards deified by the people and invested with

supernatural powers.”(499) “Mukasa held the highest rank among the gods of

Uganda. He was a benign god; he never asked for the life of any human

being, but animals were sacrificed to him at the yearly festivals, and

also at other times when the king, or a leading chief, wished to consult

him. He had nothing to do with war, but sought to heal the bodies and

minds of men. He was the god of plenty; he gave the people an increase of

food, cattle, and children. From the legends still current it seems to be

almost certain that he was a human being who, because of his benevolence,

came to be regarded as a god.... The legends about Mukasa are of great

interest; they show how the human element has been lost in the divine, how

the natural has been effaced by the supernatural, until, in the minds of

the common people, only the supernatural remains.”(500)

(M167) If we cannot prove that the great god Mukasa himself was once a

man, we have very tangible evidence that his brother the war-god Kibuka

was so. For like the dead kings of Uganda, Kibuka was worshipped in a

great conical hut resembling the huts which living people inhabit: like

them, his spirit was supposed to enter from time to time into the body of

his priest and to give oracles through him; and like them he was

represented in his temple by his personal relics, his jawbone and his

navel-string, which were rescued from the ruins of his temple and now rest

in the Ethnological Museum at Cambridge. In face of this complete

parallelism between the god and the kings whose personal existence is not

open to question, it seems difficult to doubt that Kibuka was once like

them a real man, and that he spoke with the jawbone and made bodily use of

the other corporeal organs which were preserved in his temple.(501)

(M168) These analogies lend some support to the theory that in ancient

Egypt, where the kings were worshipped by their people both in life and

death, Osiris may have been originally nothing but one of these deified

monarchs whose worship gradually eclipsed that of all the rest and ended

by rivalling or even surpassing that of the great sun-god himself. We have

seen that at Abydos, one of the principal centres of his worship, the tomb

of Osiris was identified with the tomb of King Khent, one of the earliest

monarchs of the first Egyptian dynasty, and that in this tomb were found a

woman’s richly jewelled arm and a human skull lacking the lower jawbone,

which may well be the head of the king himself and the arm of his queen.

The carved monument of Osiris which was found in the sepulchral chamber

appears indeed to be a work of late Egyptian art, but it may have replaced

an earlier sarcophagus. Certainly we may reasonably suppose that the

identification of the tomb of Osiris with the tomb of King Khent was very

ancient; for though the priests may have renewed the sculptured effigy of

the dead god, they would hardly dare to shift the site of the Holy

Sepulchre.(502) Now the sepulchre is distant about a mile and a half from

the temple in which Osiris was worshipped as a god. There is thus a

curious coincidence, if there is nothing more, between the worship of

Osiris and the worship of the dead kings of Uganda. As a dead king of

Uganda was worshipped in a temple, while his headless body reposed at some

distance in a royal tomb, and his head, without the lower jawbone, was

buried by itself near the grave, so Osiris was worshipped in a temple not

far from the royal tomb which tradition identified with his grave. Perhaps

after all tradition was right. It is possible, though it would be very

rash to affirm, that Osiris was no other than the historical King Khent of

the first dynasty;(503) that the skull found in the tomb is the skull of

Osiris himself; and that while it reposed in the grave the missing jawbone

was preserved, like the jawbone of a dead king of Uganda, as a holy and

perhaps oracular relic in the neighbouring temple. If that were so, we

should be almost driven to conclude that the bejewelled woman’s arm found

in the tomb of Osiris is the arm of Isis.

(M169) In support of the conclusion that the myth and religion of Osiris

grew up round the revered memory of a dead man we may quote the words in

which the historian of European morals describes the necessity under which

the popular imagination labours of embodying its cherished ideals in

living persons. He is referring to the dawn of the age of chivalry, when

in the morning twilight the heroic figure of Charlemagne rose like a

bright star above the political horizon, to be thenceforth encircled by a

halo of romance like the nimbus that shone round the head of Osiris. “In

order that the tendencies I have described should acquire their full

force, it was necessary that they should be represented or illustrated in

some great personage, who, by the splendour and the beauty of his career,

could fascinate the imaginations of men. It is much easier to govern great

masses of men through their imagination than through their reason. Moral

principles rarely act powerfully upon the world, except by way of example

or ideals. When the course of events has been to glorify the ascetic or

monarchical or military spirit, a great saint, or sovereign, or soldier

will arise, who will concentrate in one dazzling focus the blind

tendencies of his time, kindle the enthusiasm and fascinate the

imagination of the people. But for the prevailing tendency, the great man

would not have arisen, or would not have exercised his great influence.

But for the great man, whose career appealed vividly to the imagination,

the prevailing tendency would never have acquired its full

intensity.”(504)

(M170) Whether the parallel thus suggested between Charlemagne, the

mediaeval ideal of a Christian knight, and Osiris, the ancient Egyptian

ideal of a just and beneficent monarch, holds good or not, it is now

impossible to determine. For while Charlemagne stands near enough to allow

us clearly to discern his historical reality, Osiris is so remote that we

can no longer discriminate with any certitude between the elements of

history and fable which appear to have blended in his traditional

character. I am content to indicate bare possibilities: dogmatism on such

points would be in the highest degree rash and unbecoming. Whether Osiris

and Isis were from first to last purely imaginary beings, the ideal

creations of a primitive philosophy, or whether they were originally a

real man and woman about whom after death the myth-making fancy wove its

gossamer rainbow-tinted web, is a question to which I am not bold enough

to give a decided answer.