_THE THEORY OF LOAN-GODS; OR BORROWED RELIGION_
The study of the origins of religion is impeded by the impossibility
of obtaining historical evidence on the subject. If we examine the
religious beliefs of extant races, the lowest in material culture, the
best representatives of palæolithic man, we are still a long way from
the beginnings of human speculation and belief. Man must have begun to
speculate about the origins of things as soon as he was a reasoning
animal. If we look at the isolated and backward tribe of Central
Australia, the Arunta, we have the advantage of perhaps the best and
most thoroughly scientific study ever made of such a race, the book by
Messrs. Spencer and Gillen.[1]
Here we watch a people so 'primitive' that they are said to be utterly
ignorant of the natural results, in the way of progeny, of the union
of the sexes. Yet, on the same authority, this tribe has evolved an
elaborate, and, granting the premises, a scientific and adequate theory
of the evolution of our species, and the nature of life. An original
stock of spirits is constantly reincarnated; spiritual pedigrees are
preserved by records in the shape of oval decorated stones, and it
seems that a man or woman of to-day may be identified as an incarnation
of a soul, whose adventures, in earlier incarnations, can be traced
back to the Alcheringa, or mythical heroic age of the people. Their
marriage laws are already in advance of those of their neighbours, the
Urabunna, and their only magistracy, of a limited and constitutional
kind, descends in the male line.
Thus the Arunta are socially in advance of the Pictish royal family
in Scotland, whose crown descended in the female line, no king being
succeeded by his son. Manifestly the religious or non-religious ideas
of such a people, unclothed, houseless, ignorant of metals and of
agriculture, and without domesticated animals though they are, must
be ideas with a long history behind them. The Arunta philosophy is a
peculiar philosophy, worked out by thoughtful men, and elaborated so
artfully that there seems neither room for a god, nor for the idea of
a future life, except the life of successive reincarnations. It is
therefore impossible for us to argue that mankind in general began its
speculative career with the singular and apparently godless philosophy
of the Arunta. Their working science is sympathetic magic; to the Great
Spirit, with a trace of belief in whom they are credited, they are not
said to pray; and he seems to be either an invention of the seniors,
for the purpose of keeping the juniors and women in order, or a being
originally of higher character, belief in whom has died out among the
adults. To him we return in another essay.
As historical information about the early or late evolution of the idea
of a superior (not to say supreme) being is thus unattainable, thinkers
both ancient and modern have derived the idea of God from that of
ghost. The conception of a powerful spirit of a dead father, worshipped
by his children, is supposed to have been gradually raised to the power
of a god. Against this theory I have elsewhere urged that superior
beings are found among races who do not worship ancestral spirits;
and again that these superior beings are not envisaged as spirits, but
rather as supernormal magnified men, of unbounded power (an idea often
contradicted in savage as in Greek mythology) and of limitless duration.
The reply to me takes the form of ignoring, or disabling the evidence,
or of asserting that these superior beings are 'loan-gods,' borrowed
by savages from Europeans or Islamites. It is to the second theory,
that these savage superior beings are disguised borrowings from
missionaries, explorers, traders, or squatters, that I now address
myself.[2] These beings certainly cause difficulties to the philosophy
which derives gods, in the last resort, from ghosts.
It is probable that these difficulties have for some time been present
to the mind of Mr. E. B. Tylor (one may drop academic titles in
speaking of so celebrated a scholar). When Mr. Tylor publishes the
Gifford Lectures which he delivered some years ago at Aberdeen, we
shall know his mature mind about this problem. Meanwhile he has shown
that the difficulty, the god where no god should be, is haunting his
reflections. For example, his latest edition of his 'Primitive Culture'
(1891) contains, as we shall show, interesting modifications of what he
wrote in the second edition (1871).
There are three ways in which friends of the current theory that gods
are grown-up ghosts may attempt to escape from their quandary. (1)
The low races with the high gods are _degenerate_, and their deity is
a survival from a loftier stage of lost culture. Mr. Tylor, however,
of course, knows too much to regard the Australians, in the stone
age, as degenerate. (2) The evidence is bad or (Fr. Müller) is that
of prejudiced missionaries. But Mr. Tylor knows that some of the
evidence is excellent, and, at its best, does not repose on missionary
testimony. (3) The high gods of the low races are borrowed from
missionary teaching. This is the line adopted by Mr. Tylor.
I recently pointed out, in 'The Making of Religion' (1898), the many
difficulties which beset the current theory. I was therefore alarmed on
rinding that Mr. Tylor had mined the soil under my own hypothesis. His
theory of borrowing (which would blow mine sky-high if it exploded) is
expounded by Mr. Tylor in an essay, 'The Limits of Savage Religion,'
published in the 'Journal of the Anthropological Institute' (vol. xxi.,
1892). I propose to examine Mr. Tylor's work, and to show that his own
witnesses demonstrate the unborrowed and original character of the gods
in question.
Mr. Tylor first opposes the loose popular notion that all over North
America the Indians believed in a being named _Kitchi Manitou_,
or 'Great Spirit,' a notion which I do not defend. He says: 'The
historical evidence is that the Great Spirit belongs, not to the
untutored, but to the tutored mind of the savage, and is preserved for
us in the records of the tutors themselves, the Jesuit missionaries of
Canada.'[3] Now as to the _word_ 'Manitou' spirit, Mr. Tylor quotes Le
Jeune (1633): 'By this word "Manitou," I think they understand what
we call an angel, or some powerful being.'[4] Again: 'The Montagnets
give the name "Manitou" to everything, whether good or bad, superior
to man. Therefore, when we speak of God, they sometimes call Him "The
Good Manitou," while when we speak of the Devil, they call him "The
Bad Manitou."'[5] When then, ninety years later, in 1724, Père Lafitau
dilates on 'The Great Spirit,' 'The Great Manitou,' we are to see that
in ninety years the term which the Indians used for _our_ God--their
translation of _le bon dieu_--has taken root, become acclimatised,
and flourished. Lafitau, according to Mr. Tylor, has also raised the
Huron word for spirit, _oki_, to Okki, with a capital O, which he calls
_Le Grand Esprit_. The elevation is solely due to Lafitau and other
Christian teachers. If all this were granted, all this is far indeed
from proving that the idea of a beneficent Creator was borrowed by
the Indians from the Jesuits between 1633 and 1724. Mr. Tylor's own
book, 'Primitive Culture,' enables us to correct that opinion. Here
he quotes Captain Smith, from an edition of the 'History of Virginia'
of 1632. Smith began to colonise Virginia in 1607. He says (edition
of 1632): 'Their chief god they worship is the Devil. Him they call
Okee (Okki), and serve him more of fear than love.' Mr. Tylor cites
this as a statement by 'a half-educated and whole-prejudiced European'
about 'savage deities, which, from his point of view, seem of a wholly
diabolic nature.' 'The word oki,' Mr. Tylor goes on, 'apparently means
"that which is above," and was, in fact, a general name for spirit or
deity.'[6]
The chief deity of the Virginians then (in 1607, before missionaries
came), with his temples and images, was a being whose name apparently
meant 'that which is above.' Moreover, Father Brebeuf (1636) describes
an oki in the heavens who rules the seasons, is dreaded, and sanctions
treaties.
Consequently Lafitau did not, in 1724, first make oki, a spirit, into
Okki, a god. That had been done in Virginia before any missionaries
arrived, by the natives themselves, long before 1607. For this we have,
and Mr. Tylor has cited, the evidence of Smith, before Jesuits arrived.
What is yet more to the purpose, William Strachey, a successor of
Smith, writing in 1611-12, tells us that Okeus (as he spells the word)
was only a magisterial deputy of 'the great God (the priests tell them)
who governs all the world, and makes the sun to shine, creatyng the
sun and moone his companions,... [him] they call Ahone. The good and
peaceable God requires no such duties [as are paid to Okeus], nor needs
to be sacrificed to, for he intendeth all good unto them.' He has no
image.[7] Strachey remarks that the native priests vigorously resisted
Christianity. They certainly borrowed neither Okeus nor Ahone, the
beneficent Creator who is without sacrifice, from Jesuits who had not
yet arrived.
Do we need more evidence? If so, here it is. Speaking of New England in
1622, Winslow writes about the god Kiehtan as a being of ancient credit
among the natives. He 'made all the other gods; he dwells far westerly
above the heavens, whither all good men go when they die.' Thus Mr.
Tylor himself (_loc. cit_.) summarises Winslow, and quotes: 'They
never saw Kiehtan, _but they hold it a great charge and dutie that one
age teach another._ And to him they make feasts, and cry and sing for
plentie, and victorie, or anything that is good.'
Thus Kiehtan, in 1622, was not only a relatively supreme god, but also
a god of ancient standing. Borrowing from missionaries was therefore
impossible.
Mr. Tylor then added, in 1871: 'Brinton's etymology is plausible, that
this Kiehtan is simply the Great Spirit (Kittanitowit, Great Living
Spirit, an Algonquin word compounded of Kitta = great, manitou =
spirit, termination, wit, indicating life).'
But all this etymology Mr. Tylor omitted in his edition of 1891,
probably no longer thinking it plausible.
He did, however, say in 1891 (ii. 342): 'Another famous native American
name for the Supreme Deity is Oki.'
Not content with Okeus, capital O and all, before the arrival of
missionaries; not content with Kiehtan, whose etymology (in 1871)
'apparently' means 'Great Spirit,' before the arrival of Jesuits in New
England, Mr. Tylor, in 'Primitive Culture,' adds to these deities 'the
Greenlanders' Torngarsuk, or Great Spirit (his name is an augmentative
of "torngak," "spirit" [in 1891 "demon"]),' before the arrival of
missionaries! For, says Mr. Tylor, 'he seems no figure derived from the
religion of Scandinavian colonists, ancient or modern.... He so clearly
held his place as supreme deity in the native mind that, as Cranz the
missionary alleges, many Greenlanders, hearing of God and His Almighty
power, were apt to fall on the idea that it was their Torngarsuk who
was meant.'[8]
Now, in 1891, Mr. Tylor dropped out 'he seems no figure derived from
the religion of Scandinavian colonists, ancient or modern;' and he
added that Torngarsuk was later identified, not with our God, but
with our Devil: a foible characteristic, I may say--as Mr. Tylor
said concerning Captain Smith and Oki--of 'a half-educated and
whole-prejudiced European.' For the Algonquin Indians Mr. Tylor cited
Father Le Jeune (1633): 'When the missionary talked to them of an
almighty creator of heaven and earth, they began to say to one another
Atahocan, Atahocan.' But his name had fallen into contempt and a verb,
_Nitatahocan_, meant 'I tell an old fanciful story.' In 1558 Thevet
credits the Canadian Indians with belief in 'a creator' Andouagni, not
approached with prayers. None of these beings can have been borrowed
from Europeans. It will presently be seen that between 1871 and 1892
Mr. Tylor became sceptical as to the records of a Great Spirit in
America. But he retained Oki in the sense of Supreme Deity.
Here, then, from Virginia to Greenland, Mr. Tylor presented in 1871
evidence for a being of supreme power, called bynames which, perhaps,
mean 'Great Spirit.' In his essay of 1892 he does not refer to his
earlier work and his evidence there for a Great Spirit, nor tell us
why he has changed his mind. He now attributes the Great Spirit to
missionary influence. We naturally ask in what respect he has found
the early evidence on which he previously relied lacking in value.
Mr. Tylor, in 'Primitive Culture,'[9] gives a yet earlier reference
than the others for a Virginian Creator. He cites Heriot (an author of
1586). Again: 'They believe in one who made all things, but pay him no
honour,' writes Père L'Allemant in 1626, in a region where 'il n'y ait
point eu de religieux.'
In 1871 Mr. Tylor said: 'It has even been thought that the whole
doctrine of the Great Spirit was borrowed by the savages from
missionaries and colonists. But this view will not bear examination.
After due allowance made for mis-rendering of savage answers and
importation of white men's thoughts, it can hardly be judged that
a divine being, whose characteristics are so unlike what European
intercourse would have suggested, and who is heard of by such
early explorers among such distant tribes, could be a deity of
foreign origin.'[10] In 1891 'this view will not bear examination'
is deleted--why?--and the deity, we are told, 'could _hardly_ be
altogether of foreign origin.' He could not be, when found by the
first European discoverers, and, had the creed been borrowed, prayer to
the being would have been borrowed with it.
Now, in his essay of 1892, Mr. Tylor never, I think, alludes to his own
evidence of 1873, or even of 1891, in favour of a Red Indian creator,
evidence earlier than the Jesuits (1558, 1586, 1612-16, 1622, and of
Le Jeune, 1633). In the essay of 1892 that authentic evidence 'of such
early explorers among such distant tribes' to a savage conception
of the Creator is not cited. The coincidence of testimony is the
strongest possible evidence to the nature and unborrowed character of
the being. Such coincidence is, in fact, Mr. Tylor's own touchstone
of trustworthy testimony. Yet in 1892 the Jesuits receive the whole
credit of introducing the idea. It would be interesting to know why the
early evidence has suddenly become untrustworthy. The essay of 1892
ought, of course, to be regarded as only a sketch. Yet we are anxious
to learn the reasons which made Mr. Tylor leave his evidence out of
sight, though republished by him only the year before he put forth his
tractate in favour of borrowing from Jesuits. I turn to another point
on which I cannot accept Mr. Tylor's arguments.
In his essay of 1892 Mr. Tylor dates the Mandan Deluge legend as not
before 1700. Why? Because Catlin (in 1830-1840) found iron instruments
used ritually in the native Mystery Play of the Flood. They were
supposed to represent the tools employed in making the vessel wherein
'the only man' escaped drowning. But the Mandans did not get iron
tools before 1700. The Indians, however, we reply, had canoes before
they had iron tools, and, in modern times, might naturally employ iron
instead of flint instruments (discarded) in the Mystery Play. They
might do this, in spite of the marked preference for stone tools in
ritual. Perhaps they had none. It must here be observed that Catlin
does not use the word 'ark' (as Mr. Tylor does) for the vessel of 'the
only man.' Catlin always says 'the big canoe.' Even if we admit (which
we do not) that the Mandans necessarily borrowed their Deluge legend
from whites, it does not follow, as Mr. Tylor argues, that because
the 'Great Spirit' appears in the Deluge legend, he 'cannot claim
greater antiquity' than 1700. In the first place, as, in Mr. Tylor's
earlier statement, Canadians, Algonquins, Virginians, Massachusetts,
and Greenlanders had a Great Spirit before Christian influences
began, the Mandans may have been equally fortunate. Nor does it seem
safe to argue, like Mr. Tylor, that if the Great Spirit figures in a
(hypothetically) borrowed myth, therefore the conception of a Great
Spirit was necessarily borrowed at the same time. That more recent
myths are constantly being attached to a pre-existing god or hero is
a recognised fact in mythology. Nor can mythologists argue (1) that
Biblical myth is a modified survival of savage myth, and (2) that such
natural and obvious savage myths as the kneading of man out of clay,
the origin of death ('the Fall'), and the tradition of the Deluge
are necessarily borrowed by savages from the Bible. This is, indeed,
to argue in a vicious circle. Again, was the Australian and American
myth of a race of wise birds, earlier than man, borrowed from the
famous chorus in the 'Birds' of Aristophanes? Is the Arunta theory of
evolution borrowed from Darwin, or their theory of reincarnation from
Buddhism? Borrowing of ideas seems only to be in favour when savage
ideas resemble more or less those of Christianity.
Mr. Tylor remarks that Prince Maximilian, who knew Mandanese better
than Catlin, found among them no 'Great Manitou'--so called. But he
did find a Creator whose name means 'Lord of Earth.' Was He borrowed
from the whites? Finally, on this point, would savages who remained so
utterly un-Christian as the Mandans, adopt from missionaries just one
myth--the Deluge--and make that the central feature in their national
ritual? Indeed this seems very improbable conduct! Nothing is more
conservative than ritual: that is notorious.
We do not follow Mr. Tylor into South America. If our case is proved,
by his own not repudiated authorities, for North America, that suffices
us. We turn to Australia.
Let us first take the typical Australian case of Baiame, Pei-a-mei, or
Baiamai, at present alleged by Mr. Howitt and others to be the moral
creative being of many tribes,[11] and served, without sacrifice, in
their mysteries. Mr. Tylor first finds him mentioned as a creator by
Mr. Horace Hale, whose book is of 1840.[12] 'Next, in 1850, Baiame
was spoken of by a native to some German Moravian missionaries as a
being who, according to their 'sorcerers or doctors,' made all things,
but was easy to anger, and was to be appeased by dances. Thus he was
accepted by the most notoriously conservative class, the class most
jealous of missionary influence, the sorcerers. Omitting for the moment
a later description of Baiame as seen by a black devotee in a vision,
we turn to Mr. Tylor's theory of the origin of this god. Mr. Ridley
(who began his missionary career in Victoria in 1854) gives a pleasing
account of Baiame as a creator, with a paradise for the good. According
to Mr. Ridley, 'Baiame' is discovered by Mr. Greenway to be derived
from _baia_, 'to make,' and he concludes that 'for ages unknown' the
blacks have called God 'the Maker.'[13]
Mr. Tylor now asks, 'Was Baiame,' who is, he avers, 'near 1840 so
prominent a divine figure among the Australians, known to them at all a
few years earlier?' He decides that before 1840 Baiame was 'unknown to
well-informed (white) observers.' This, of course, would not prove that
Baiame was unknown to the blacks. As for the observers, who are three
in number, one, Buckley the convict, in spite of his thirty-two years
with the blacks, is of no real value. We cannot trust a man who lied
so freely as to say that in Australia he 'speared salmon'! and often
saw the fabled monster, the Bunyip.[14] Buckley could not read, and his
book was made up by a Mr. Morgan out of 'rough notes and memoranda ...
and by conversation.' If, then, as Buckley says, 'they have no notion
of a Supreme Being' (p. 57), we may discount that; Buckley's idea of
such a being was probably too elevated. Moreover he never mentions the
confessedly ancient native mysteries, in one of which among certain
tribes the being is revealed.[15] Mr. Tylor's next well-informed
observer before 1840, Mr. Backhouse, a Quaker, takes his facts straight
from the third witness, Mr. Threlkeld; he admits it for some of them,
and it is true, in this matter, of all of them.[16] Buckley being
out of court, and Backhouse being a mere copy of Mr. Threlkeld, what
has Mr. Threlkeld to say? What follows is curious. Mr. Threlkeld
(1834-1857) does not name Baiame, but speaks of a big supernatural
black man, called Koin, who carries wizards up to the sky, inspires
sorcerers, walks about with a fire-stick, and so on.[17] To honour him
boys' front teeth are knocked out in the initiatory stages.
As soon as I read this passage I perceived that Mr. Threlkeld was
amalgamating such a goblin as the Kurnai call 'Brewin' with the high
God of the Mysteries. In 1881, when Mr. Howitt, with Mr. Fison, wrote
'Kamilaroi and Kurnai,' he knew no higher being among that tribe than
the goblin Brewin. But, being initiated later, Mr. Howitt discovered
that the God of the Mysteries is Mungan-ngaur = 'Our Father' (this
shows the slight value of negative evidence). Women know about Brewin,
the goblin master of sorcerers, but the knowledge of Mungan-ngaur is
hidden from them under awful penalties.[18] Not only I, but Mr. Horace
Hale (1840), came to this opinion: that Koin is a goblin, Baiame a god,
as we shall see. In the same way, where Baiame is supreme, Daramulun is
sometimes a goblin or fiend.
Mr. Threlkeld very properly did not use the name of the fiend Koin as
equivalent to 'God' in his translation of the Gospel of St. Luke into
the native tongue (1831-1834). He there used for God Eloi, and no doubt
did the same in his teaching; he also tried the word _Jeliovaka-birun._
Neither word has taken with the blacks; neither word occurs in their
traditions. The word, though forced on them, has not been accepted by
them. That looks ill for the theory of borrowing.
Here, then, of Mr. Tylor's three negative witnesses, who, before 1840,
knew not Baiame, Mr. Threlkeld alone is of value. As Mr. Hale says, Mr.
Threlkeld was (1826-1857) the first worker at the dialects of those
Baiame-worshipping tribes, the Kamilaroi of the Wellington Valley,
in Victoria. But whence did Mr. Hale get what Mr. Tylor cites, his
knowledge in 1840 of Baiame? He, an American _savant_ on an exploring
expedition, could not well find out esoteric native secrets. I shall
prove that Mr. Hale got his knowledge of Baiame from Mr. Tylor's
own negative witness, Mr. Threlkeld. Mr. Hale says that 'when the
missionaries first came to Wellington,' Baiame was worshipped with
songs. 'There was a native famous for the composition of these songs
or hymns, which, according to Mr. Threlkeld, were passed on,' &c. Mr.
Hale thus declares (Mr. Tylor probably overlooked the remark) that
when the missionaries first came to Wellington (where Baiame is the
Creator) they found Baiame there before them![19] Then, why did Mr.
Threlkeld not name Baiame? I think because Mr. Hale says that Baiame's
name and sacred dance were brought in by natives from a distance,
and (when he is writing) had fallen into disuse.[20] Had, then, a
missionary before 1840 evolved Baiame from Kamilaroi _baia_, 'to make'
(for that is Mr. Tylor's theory of the origin of the word 'Baiame'),
and taught the name to distant natives as a word for his own God; and
had these proselytising distant dancing natives brought Baiame's name
and dance to Wellington? Are missionaries dancing masters? They would
teach prayer and kneeling, or give rosaries; dances are no part of
our religion. To demonstrate missionary influence here we must find
a missionary, not Mr. Threlkeld, who was studying and working on the
Kamilaroi tongue before 1840. There was no such missionary. Finally,
Mr. Hale runs counter to Mr. Tylor's theory of borrowing from whites,
though Mr. Tylor does not quote his remark. The ideas of Baiame may
'possibly' be derived from Europeans, 'though,' says Mr. Hale, 'the
great unwillingness which the natives always evince to adopt any custom
or opinion from them militates against such a supposition.' So strong
is this reluctance to borrow ideas from the whites, that the blacks of
the centre have not even borrowed the idea that children are a result
of the intercourse of the sexes! Here, then, in part of the district
studied by Mr. Threlkeld in 1826-1857, an American _savant_ (who
certainly received the facts from Mr. Threlkeld) testifies to Baiame
as recently brought from a distance by natives, but as prior to the
arrival of missionaries, and most unlikely to have been borrowed.
Whence, then, came Baiame? Mr. Tylor thinks the evidence 'points rather
to Baiame being the missionary translation of the word "creator,"
used in missionary lesson books for God.' But by 1840, when Baiame
is confessedly 'so prominent a divine figure,' Mr. Threlkeld's were
the only translations and grammatical tracts in the Kamilaroi tongue.
Now Mr. Threlkeld did not translate 'creator' (or anything else) by
'Baiame;' he used 'Eloi' and 'Jehovah-ka,' and the natives would have
neither of these words. Where is Mr. Tylor's reason, then, for holding
that before 1840 (for it must be prior to that date if it is going to
help his argument) any missionary ever rendered creator by 'Baiame'?
He has just argued that no 'observer' then knew the name Baiame, so no
observer could have introduced a name Baiame which he did not know; yet
there was the name; Mr. Hale found it there. Mr. Tylor's argument seems
to be that Mr. Ridley in 1866, and again in 1877, printed extracts,
in which occurs Baiame=God, from the 'Missionary Primers prepared for
the Kamilaroi.' We might have expected Mr. Tylor at least to give the
dates of the 'Missionary Primers' that, _ex hypothesi_, introduced
Baiame before 1840. He gives no dates, and the primers are of 1856
and are written by Mr. Ridley, who cites them.[21] Thus they must be
posterior to the Baiame of 1840, and Baiame was prior to missionaries
at Wellington, at the time when Mr. Tylor first notes his appearance.
Thus, by Mr. Tylor's own evidence, Baiame is not shown to be a
missionary importation; the reverse.
As to Australia, it is not denied by Mr. Tylor that practically all
over the continent the blacks possess religious mysteries of confessed
antiquity. It is not denied that the institution of these mysteries
is now, in many cases, attributed by the blacks to a moral creative
being, whose home is in or above the heavens. It is not denied that his
name now usually means, in different dialects, Maker (Baiame), Master
(Biamban), and Father (Papang, and many other words). It is not denied
that the doctrine of this being is _now_ concealed from children and
women, and revealed to lads at the _Bora_, or initiatory mystery.[22]
But, on the other hand (as I understand Mr. Tylor), while initiatory
rites are old (they certainly existed when Dampier touched at the
Australian coast in 1688-1689), the names of their institutor (Father,
Maker), his moral excellencies (?), and his creative attributes, are
all due to missionary influence. The original founder of the Bora, in
pre-missionary days, would only be a dead 'head-man' or leader, now
religiously regarded.
To this we first demur. It is not shown--it is denied by Waitz, and
it is not even alleged by Mr. Herbert Spencer--that the Australians
'steadily propitiate' or sacrifice at all to any ghosts of dead
men. How can they? The name of the dead is tabooed, and even where
there is in one instance an eponymous human patronymic of a tribe,
that patronymic alters in every generation. Now, among such a
ghost-worshipping people as the Zulus, the most recently dead father
gets most worship. In Australia, where even the recent ghosts are
unadored, is it likely that some remote ghost is remembered as founder
of the ancient mysteries? This is beyond our belief, though the opinion
is, or at least was, that of Mr. Howitt. The mere institution of female
kin among some of these tribes (though paternity is recognised) makes
against an ancient worship of a male ancestor where even now ancestors
are unworshipped.
As to the aspect of this god, Baiame, Mr. Tylor presently cites a
story told to Mr. Howitt by a native, of how with his father he once
penetrated in the spirit to Baiame's home, and found him to be 'a very
great old man with a long beard,' and with crystal pillars growing out
of his shoulders which support a supernal sky. His 'people,' birds and
beasts, were around him. Mr. Tylor says: 'These details are, it will
have been noticed, in some respects of very native character, while in
others recalling conventional Christian ideas of the Almighty.'
The 'Christian' idea is, naturally, that of the old man of Blake and
Michael Angelo--Hartley Coleridge's 'old man with the beard.' Is it
likely that the savages had seen any such representations? Again, is
the idea of Baiame as an old man not natural to a race where respect of
age is regularly inculcated in the mysteries and prevails in practice?
'Among the Kamilaroi about Bundurra, Turramulan [another name for this
or a lower god] is represented [at the mysteries] by an old man learned
in all the laws.'[23]...
As early as 1798 Collins found that the native word for 'father' in
New South Wales was applied by the blacks as a title of reverence to
the Governor of the nascent colony.[24] It is used now in many native
tribes as the name of their Supreme Being, and Mr. Tylor thinks it of
missionary origin. Manifestly, this idea of age and paternity in a
worshipped being is congenial to the natives, is illustrated in their
laws and customs, need not be borrowed, and is rather inevitable. The
vision of Baiame, we may add, was narrated to Mr. Howitt by a native
fellow-initiate. To lie, in such cases, is 'an unheard-of thing,'
says Mr. Howitt. The vision was a result of the world-wide practice
of crystal gazing. The seer's father handed to him a crystal. 'When
I looked at it,' says the narrator, all manner of visions appeared,
including that of Baiame.[25]
It is manifest, we think, that when the natives attach the attributes
of fatherhood and antiquity to Baiame, they need not be borrowing from
Christian art notions so natural, nay, so inevitable, in their own
stage of society. Though in many cases reckoning kinship through women,
they quite undeniably recognise paternity in fact. Thus the paternal
title had no need to be borrowed as a word of reverence. It was so used
before missionaries came.
Mr. Howitt, who is deeply initiated, writes: 'Beyond the vaulted sky
lies the mysterious home of that great and powerful being who is
Bunjil, Baiame, or Taramulan in different tribal languages, but who
in all is known by a name the equivalent of the only one used by the
Kurnai, which is Mangun-ngaur, Our Father.'[26]
Now, not to multiply evidence which is provided by other observers as
to Central Australia (not so central as the Arunta country) and the
North, Mr. Tylor is confronted with this problem: Have all the tribes
who regard a powerful being, Baiame or another, as founder of their
ancient mysteries, borrowed his name and attributes, since 1840 or
so, from whites with whom they were constantly in hostile relations?
Is it probable that, having hypothetically picked up from Christians
the notion of a moral Father in heaven, their 'priests' and initiators
instantly disseminated that idea over most of the continent, and
introduced it into their most secret and most conservative ceremonies?
Would they be likely to restrict so novel a piece of European
information to the men? Mr. Dawson, in his 'Aborigines of Australia'
(p. 51), writes: 'The recent custom of providing food for it (a
corpse) is derided by intelligent old aborigines as "white fellows'
gammon"!' Thus do they estimate novelties! Yet in Mr. Tylor's theory
it is the most conservative class of all, the medicine-men and learned
elders--everywhere rivals and opponents of Christian doctrine--who
pick up the European idea of a good, powerful father or master, borrow
a missionary name for him (we have shown that the name, Baiame, is
not of missionary origin), and introduce him in precisely the secret
heart of the mysteries. This knowledge is hidden, under terrible
penalties, from women and children: to what purpose? Do missionaries
teach only the old rams of the flock, and neglect the ewes and lambs?
Obviously the women and children must know any secret of divine names
and attributes imparted by missionaries. Again, it is not probable
that having recently borrowed a new idea from the whites the blacks
would elaborately hide it from its authors, the Europeans. So well is
it hidden that, till he was formally initiated, Mr. Howitt had no
suspicion of its existence.[27]
Mr. Tylor may rest in his hypothesis of borrowing, but for the reasons
assigned we think it impossible in our, and his, selected North
American cases, and inconceivable as an explanation of the Australian
phenomena.
Finally, Mr. Tylor candidly adduces a case in which Mr. Dawson, taking
great and acknowledged trouble to collect evidence, learned from the
blacks that they had believed in a benevolent being, Pirnmeheal,
'whose voice is the thunder,' 'before they knew of the existence of
Europeans,' who 'have given them a dread of Pirnmeheal.'[28] We add Mr.
Howitt's testimony to a supreme being ruling 'from Omeo to Shoalhaven
River, from the coast to Yass Gundagai,' concerning whom 'old men
strenuously maintained that it was so before the white men came,' they
themselves, now aged, having only learned the secret when they were
initiated 'and made men' at about the age of fourteen.[29] In the
same essay of 1885[30] Mr. Howitt tells of a native whose grandfather
initiated him as to an all-seeing personality, Bunjil, 'up there,' who
would mark his conduct. 'This was said before the white men came to
Melbourne' (1835). Bunjil, said William Beiruk, a black, was called
'our father' 'before white men came to Melbourne.'
I might give other evidence in favour of the unborrowed character of
Australian belief in some such being as Baiame. Thus Mrs. Langloh
Parker, the careful collector of 'Australian Legendary Tales,'[31] was
herself interested in the question. She approached the subject as a
disciple of Mr. Herbert Spencer, who allows hardly a germ of religion
to the Australians. On hearing what she did hear, as to Baiame, from
the tribesmen, she asked one of them whether the idea was not borrowed
from Europeans. The old warrior answered that if it were so the young
men would know most about Baiame. But they know nothing, apparently
because the old rites of initiation have fallen into disuse. Nor are
they much more familiar with Christian doctrine. This black man had
logic in him. Mrs. Langloh Parker came, contrary to her prepossessions,
to the same opinion as our best authority, Mr. Howitt, that the
Australian belief is unborrowed.
This lady, who has taken very great pains in criticising and collecting
her evidence, kindly sent me an essays of Mr. Manning's from 'The
Journal of the Royal Society of New South Wales,' vol. xvi. p. 159,
1883. Mr. Manning was an early settler in the north border of the
southern colony. About 1832 he was in Europe, and met Goethe, whose
undiminished curiosity, he being then about eighty-five, induced him
to bid Mr. Manning examine Australian beliefs. He did, but lost his
notes, made in 1845-1848. In these notes, which he later recovered,
Mr. Manning used Christian terminology, instead of making a verbatim
report. Struck by the certainly singular savage idea of a son (begotten
in some cases, in others a kind of 'emanation') of the superior being,
he employed theological phrases. The son, in his story, sprang from
a liquid like blood, which Boyma (Baiame) placed in a vessel within
a crystal oven. The myth of such a birth, as Mr. Hartland remarks,
is familiar to Zulus and Red Indians.[32] It is therefore not likely
to be of European origin. But Mr. Manning's evidence, despite its
terminology, so far agrees with Mrs. Langloh Parker's account of the
extant Baiame belief as to 'make a case for further inquiry;' so Mr.
Hartland concedes. I ask for no more.[33] Thus Mr. Manning has Ballima,
Mrs. Langloh Parker has Bullimah, for a kind of floral paradise of
souls, very beautifully described in the lady's 'More Australian
Legendary Tales.'
Both authorities mention prayers for the dead; Mrs. Langloh Parker
quotes what Mr. Hartland calls 'very interesting funeral rites and
prayers for the dead.' He adds: 'We want to be assured whether these
are usual, by means of an accurate description of the customary
ceremonies, and that she does not give us.' I shall make inquiry; but
what does it matter whether the rites, in the overthrow of native
manners, are now usual or not? Baiame is unknown to the new generation,
as we have seen. Prayers to him, then, cannot be usual. The point is
that Mr. Manning in 1845, and Mrs. Langloh Parker in 1898, both mention
the prayers for the dead, certainly not borrowed from Protestants.
There is a similar account, only that of an unnamed runaway convict
who lived with the black fellows in North-Western Australia.[34] By a
mythical contradiction, the soul of the hero Eerin, prayed for in Mrs.
Langloh Parker's tale, now inhabits a little bird.
Another curious point needs to be considered by the advocates of the
theory of borrowing. Mr. Hartland offers some deserved censures on Mr.
Manning's terminology in his report of Australian religion (1845-1848).
Mr. Manning says: 'They believe in the existence of a Son of God, equal
with him in omniscience, and but slightly inferior to his Father in
any attribute. Him they call "Grogoragally." His divine office is to
watch over all the actions of mankind, and to bring to life the dead
to appear before the judgment seat of his Father, who alone pronounces
the awful judgment of eternal happiness in heaven (Ballima) or eternal
misery in "Oorooma" (hell), which is the place of everlasting fire
(gumby). The Son ... acts as mediator for their souls to the great God,
to whom the good and bad actions of all are known.' As Mr. Hartland
truly says, 'this is not an accurate scientific account.' Even Mr.
Manning's 'capital letters' are censured.
Probably the native theologian really said something like this: 'Boyma'
(Baiame) big man; very budgery man. Him sit on big glass stone. Him son
Grogoragally can see everything and go everywhere. See budgery man,
like him; see bad man, plenty too much devil devil. Likes budgery man;
no likes bad man: he growl too much. Budgery man die, Grogoragally tell
Boyma; Boyma say, 'Take him Ballima way, plenty budgery place.' Bad
man die; Boyma say, 'Take him Oorooma way, plenty too hot, him growl
there.' Grogoragally plenty strong, him not so strong as Boyma.
This, or something like this, would be the actual statement of the
dusky theologian. It is easily rendered into Mr. Manning's terminology;
but at the same time the native, in his rude _lingua franca_, or pidgin
English, could hardly do justice to his creed. It _was_ his creed;
Mr. Hartland himself recognises the original character of the native
version of the Supernatural Birth.[35]
Here are certainly 'Biblical analogies,' as Mr. Tylor recognises, but
they are as certainly unborrowed.
Now let us fancy that a traveller, not a Greek scholar, is storm-driven
to a hitherto unknown island. He finds a race of heathen white men.
He describes their religion. 'Despite their polytheism, they have
certainly been visited by Christian missionaries, or are descended
from a Christian colony. They believe in a supreme being whom they call
Zeus. He has a son named Apollon or Phœbus Apollon, who is all-knowing
and all-seeing. He acts as a kind of mediator between Zeus and men, to
whom, as one of the native hymns says, he "delivers the counsels of
the Father, and his unerring will." This Apollo is consulted through
an hysterical woman, who lives in a cave. After being convulsed, like
other savage mediums, she speaks in a kind of verse. Her advice is
often obscure and ambiguous, but generally of a moral tendency.
'This son of Zeus is believed to be the only god who really knows the
future and the will of his father. There is another son, Hermes, one of
whose duties is to conduct the souls of the dead into the presence of
their judge, who is not Zeus, but another god.
'There is also a son of Apollo, whom I take to be only a kind of double
of that god; he sometimes appears to his worshippers as a serpent: his
name is Asclepius.
'This reminds us of what Winslow writes about the Red Indians of New
England. They have a supreme being, Kiehtan, whose son, Hobamok,
appears in their assemblies as a serpent. Ridley has the same story
about the blacks of Australia. I infer, then, that the natives of this
island have inherited or been taught some elements of Christianity, as
in the case of Apollo, the mediator between Zeus and men; and Hermes,
the Guide of Souls as they call him, _psychopompos_ in their language.
But they have mixed up all this with degrading superstitions.'
Of course our traveller has arrived among Greeks, and quotes the
Homeric hymn to Apollo. But the Greeks, being prior to Christianity,
did not borrow from it, as our traveller supposes. On the other hand,
the Greek beliefs which he describes resemble Australian and American
beliefs more closely than Australian and American beliefs resemble
the creed taught by missionaries. Yet neither Mr. Tylor nor any
other friend of the borrowing theory asserts that the Australians or
Americans borrowed their tenets from Greece.
The truth seems to be that where a supreme being is regarded as too
remote and impassive, he is naturally supplied with a deputy. Ahone has
Oki, Kiehtan has Hobamok, Boyma has Grogoragally, Baiame has Tundun,
or in places Daramulun; Nyankupon, in West Africa, has Bobowissi.
Sometimes, as in the Australian Noorele's case, these active deputies
are sons of the supreme being. No borrowing is needed to explain ideas
so natural to early men, believing in a supreme being remote and
retired, little concerned with mundane affairs, and acting through a
deputy or deputies. In other cases, as of the Finnish Num, or the Zulu
Unkulunkulu, or the Algonquin Atahocan, the being is quite neglected in
favour of spirits who receive sacrifices of meat or grease. Human minds
work on similar lines, without borrowing, which is only alleged in the
case of Christianity to account for the beliefs which do not fit the
'ghost theory' of modern speculators.
The essential point of Mr. Manning's report, injured as it is by his
impossible terminology, is the extreme secrecy maintained on these
points by his savage informants. They used to believe that the world
would perish if the women heard of their dogmas. Thus a man said to
Mr. Howitt (whose competence as a witness is indisputable): 'If a
woman were to hear these things, or hear what we tell the boys, I
would kill her.'[36] One of Mr. Manning's witnesses slunk 'into a
wooden fireplace,' whence he whispered his beliefs. He had previously
examined doors and windows in search of listeners. A man who reported
these creeds would, if they became divulged among the women, be obliged
to kill his wife.
If the religious ideas were borrowed from missionaries, the women would
know them as well as the men. They would not be reserved for initiates
at the mysteries, through which Mr. Howitt derived his most esoteric
knowledge of creeds, whereof, in 1881, he was absolutely ignorant.[37]
If the beliefs were of missionary origin, the young men, not the old
men, would know most about Baiame. For similar beliefs in North-West
Central Queensland I may cite Mr. Both.[38] The being Mulkari is
described by Mr. Both as I a benevolent, omnipresent, supernatural
being; anything incomprehensible.' 'Mulkari is the supernatural power
who makes everything which the blacks cannot otherwise account for;
he is a good, beneficent person, and never kills any one.' His home
is in the skies. He was also a medicine-man, has the usual low myths
about him, and invented magic. So writes Dr. Both, who knows the local
Pitta Pitta language--and is not a missionary. Dr. Both is pursuing
his researches, and his remarks are only cited provisionally, awaiting
confirmation.
Sometimes European observers do not see the trend of their own reports.
In 1845 Mr. Eyre described 'the origin of creation 'as narrated to him
by Australian blacks on the Murring River. A being, Noorele, with three
unbegotten sons, lives up among the clouds. He is 'all powerful and
of benevolent nature. He made the earth, trees, water, &c. He receives
the souls (_ladko_ = shades, _umbra_) of the natives, who join him in
the skies and will never die again.' Yet Mr. Eyre adds: 'A Deity, a
Great First Cause, can hardly be said to be acknowledged.'[39] What is
Noorele if not a 'Great First Cause'?
Among some tribes Bunjil, merely a title of authority, meaning master,
lord, headman, is a name of the superior being. Abundance of the
mythology of Bunjil, often ludicrous or degrading, the being showing as
a supernormal medicine-man, may be found in Mr. Brough Smyth's great
collections.[40] But no evidence can be better than that of native
poetry, which proves a higher aspect of Bunjil.
A Woiworung bard of old made a song which moved an aged singer to
tears by 'the melancholy which the words conveyed to him.' It was an
'inspired' song, for the natives, like ourselves, would think Tennyson
inspired and Tupper not so. Usually 'the spirits' inspire singers; this
song was inspired by Bunjil himself, who '"rushes down" into the heart
of the singer,' just as Apollo did of old. It is a dirge of the native
race:
We go all!
The bones of all
Are shining white.
In this Dulur land!
The rushing noise
Of Bunjil, our Father,
Sings in my breast,
This breast of mine![41]
The missionaries do not inspire these songs. They put them down. 'The
white man,' says Mr. Howitt, 'knows little or nothing of the black
fellows' songs.' One of Mr. Manning's informants (1845) was angry when
asked for the Hymn to Baiame (Boyma). He said that Mr. Manning knew too
much already.
I have dwelt specially on Australia, because there, as the natives do
not worship ancestral spirits (the names of the dead are tabooed),
their superior being cannot have been evolved out of ghost worship.
I have expressly avoided the evidence of missionaries, except the
early Jesuits, because missionaries are believed by some writers to
be biassed on this point, though, in fact, on other points they are
copiously cited by anthropologists. As Mr. Tylor finds the saintly
and often martyred Jesuits of 1620-1660 worth quoting, I have
therefore admitted Father Le Jeune's testimony to the existence of
Atahocan before their arrival in America, with Father Brebeuf's Oki,
or 'un Oki,' whose anger is feared and who sanctions treaties. It
is impossible to me to understand how the savages could borrow from
Europeans the beliefs which the Europeans found extant when they
arrived. I have not touched the case of Africa. In 'The Making of
Religion' (pp. 222-228), I argued against Sir A. B. Ellis's elaborate
theory of borrowing a god, in the case of the Tshi-speaking races. I
did not know that this exact writer had repudiated his theory, which
was also rejected by Miss Mary Kingsley.
As to Australia, in face of the evidence (which settled Mr. Howitt's
doubts as to the borrowing of these ideas) can any one bring a native
of age and credit who has said that Baiame, under any name, was
borrowed from the whites? Mr. Palmer is 'perfectly satisfied' that
'none of these ideas were derived from the whites.' He is speaking
of the tribes of the Gulf of Carpentaria, far away indeed from
Victoria and New South Wales. There is no greater authority among
anthropologists than Waitz, and Waitz rejects the hypothesis that the
higher Australian religious beliefs were borrowed from Christians.[42]
To sum up, we have proved, by evidence of 1558, 1586, 1612-16, and
1633, that a sort of supreme creative being was known in North America
before any missionary influence reached the regions where he prevailed.
As to the Australian god Baiame, we have shown out of the mouth of Mr.
Tylor's own witness, Mr. Hale, that Baiame preceded the missionaries
in the region where literary evidence of his creed first occurs. We
have given Mr. Hale's opinion as to the improbability of borrowing.
We have left it to Mr. Tylor to find the missionary who, before 1840,
translated 'Creator' by the Kamilaroi word 'Baiame' while showing the
difficulty--I think the impossibility--of discovering any Kamilaroi
philologist before Mr. Threlkeld. And Mr. Threlkeld certainly did not
introduce Baiame! We have proved that, contrary to Mr. Tylor's theory
of what a missionary can do, Mr. Threlkeld could not introduce his
own names for God, Eloi and Jehovah-ka, into Kamilaroi practice. We
note the improbability that highly conservative medicine-men would
unanimously thrust a European idea into their ancient mysteries.
We have observed that by the nature of Mr. Tylor's theory, the
hypothetically borrowed divine names and attributes must (if taken over
from missionaries) have been well known to the women and children from
whom they are concealed under dreadful penalties. We have demonstrated
the worthlessness of negative evidence by proving that the facts were
discovered, on initiation, by a student (Mr. Howitt), confessedly in
the first rank, though he, during many years, had been ignorant of
their existence. We show that the ideas of age and paternity, in an
object of reverence, are natural and habitual to Australian natives,
and stood in no need of being borrowed. We suggest that the absence
of prayer to a powerful being is fatal to the theory of borrowing. We
show that direct native evidence utterly denies the borrowing of divine
names and attributes, and strenuously asserts that before Europeans
came to Melbourne (1835) they were revealed in the secret doctrine of
ancient initiatory rites. This evidence again removed the doubts which
Mr. Howitt had entertained on the point, and Mr. Palmer and Mr. Dawson
agree with Mr. Howitt, Mr. Ridley, Mr. Günther, and Mr. Greenway, all
experts, all studying the blacks on the spot. In the study, Waitz is of
the same opinion. Australian religion is unborrowed.
It is rare, in anthropological speculations, to light on a topic in
which verifiable dates occur. The dates of the arrivals of missionaries
and other Europeans, the dates of Mr. Hale's book, of Mr. Threlkeld's
books, of Mr. Ridley's primer, are definite facts, not conjectures in
the air. While this array of facts remains undemolished, science cannot
logically argue that the superior beings of low savage belief are
borrowed from Christian teachers and travellers. That idea is disproved
also by the esoteric and hidden nature of the beliefs, and by the
usual, though not universal, absence of prayer. The absence of prayer
again, and of sacrifice, proves that gods not bribed or implored were
not invented as powerful givers of good things, because good things
were found not to be procurable by magic.
This condition of belief is not what a European, whatever his bias,
expects to find. He does not import this kind of ideas. If they are all
misreports, due to misunderstandings in America and Australia from 1558
to 1898, what is the value of anthropological evidence? It ought to be
needless to add that when good observers like Miss Kingsley find traces
of Jesuit or other missionary teaching in regions, as Africa or Canada,
where Jesuits actually taught in the past, I accept their decision.[43]
My arguments against the theory of borrowing apply chiefly to cases
where the beliefs reported were found already extant by the first white
observers, to tribes where missionaries like Mr. Threlkeld could not
introduce their names for deity, and to tribes which jealously conceal
their theology from the whites.
[1] _Natives of Central Australia_, London, 1899.
[2] With a case of ignoring the evidence I deal in the following essay,
_Magic and Religion_.
[3] _Op. cit_. p. 284.
[4] Le Jeune, _Relations_, 1633, p. 17.
[5] _Ibid_., 1637, p. 49.
[6] _Prim. Cult_. ii. 310.
[7] _Historic of Travaile into Virginia_. By William Strachey, Gent, (a
companion of Captain Smith). Hakluyt Society. Date _circ_.1612-1616.
See _Myth, Ritual, and Religion_, i. xx-xxxix, 1899.
[8] _Prim. Cult_. ii. p. 308.
[9] _Prim. Cult_. ii. pp. 309, 310 (1873 and 1891).
[10] _Prim. Cult_. ii. p. 308.
[11] Howitt, _Journal of Anthropological Institute_, 1884, 1885.
[12] _United States Exploring Expedition. Ethnology and Philology_ p.
110.
[13] Ridley, _Kamilaroi Vocabularies_, p. 17 (1875). Also in an earlier
Grammar, 1866.
[14] _The Life and Adventures of William Buckley_, 1852, pp. 40-48.
[15] Howitt, _J. A. I_., 1885. The Kurnai tribe.
[16] Backhouse, _Narrative of a Visit to the Australian Colonies_,
1843, p. 555. Compare Threlkeld, _An Australian Language_, 1892, p. 47.
This is a reprint of Mr. Threlkeld's early works of 1831-1857.
[17] _Op. cit_. p. 47.
[18] _Journal Anthrop. Inst_., 1885.
[19] He was supposed to live on an island, on fish which came at his
call, probably a childlike answer to a tedious questioner.
[20] _Exploring Expedition of U. S_., 1846, p. 110.
[21] _Gurre Kamilaroi, or Kamilaroi Sayings_. Sydney, 1856. It is a
scarce little book, with illustrations and Bible stories.
[22] Howitt, _Journal Anthrop. Institute, ut supra._
[23] Greenway, _J. A. I_. vii. p. 243.
[24] Collins, _Account of the Colony of New South Wales_, 1798, vol.
ii. p. 544.
[25] _J. A. I._. xvi. pp. 49, 50.
[26] _Op. cit_., 1885, p. 54.
[27] For concealment from women and children, see Howitt, _J. A. I_.
xiii. p. 192.
[28] Dawson, _Aborigines of Australia_, p. 49.
[29] _J. A. I_. xiii. 1885, p. 142.
[30] _Op. cit_. p. 194.
[31] Two volumes. Nutt.
[32] _Legend of Perseus_, i. 97.
[33] _Folk Lore_, March 1899, p. 55.
[34] Ridley, _J. A. I._, 1872, p. 282.
[35] _Folk Lore_, March 1899, pp. 52, 53.
[36] _J. A. I_. vol. xiv. p. 310.
[37] See his and Mr. Fison's _Kamilaroi and Kurnai_, 1881.
[38] _North-West Central Queensland Aborigines_, pp. 14, 36, 116, 153,
158, 165.
[39] Eyre, vol. ii. pp. 355-357.
[40] _Aborigines of Victoria._
[41] Arranged in lines from the literal translation, preserving the
native idiom. Howitt, _J. A. I_. vol. xvi. pp. 330, 331.
[42] _Anthropologie_, vi. p. 798.