CHAPTER II. NEW SYSTEM PROPOSED.

Chap. I. recapitulated--Proposal of a new method: Science of

comparative or historical study of man--Anticipated in part by

Eusebius, Fontenelle, De Brosses, Spencer (of C. C. C., Cambridge), and

Mannhardt--Science of Tylor--Object of inquiry: to find condition of

human intellect in which marvels of myth are parts of practical everyday

belief--This is the savage state--Savages described--The wild element of

myth a survival from the savage state--Advantages of this method--Partly

accounts for wide DIFFUSION as well as ORIGIN of myths--Connected

with general theory of evolution--Puzzling example of myth of the

water-swallower--Professor Tiele's criticism of the method--Objections

to method, and answer to these--See Appendix B.

The past systems of mythological interpretation have been briefly

sketched. It has been shown that the practical need for a reconciliation

between RELIGION and MORALITY on one side, and the MYTHS about the gods

on the other, produced the hypotheses of Theagenes and Metrodorus, of

Socrates and Euemerus, of Aristotle and Plutarch. It has been shown that

in each case the reconcilers argued on the basis of their own ideas and

of the philosophies of their time. The early physicist thought that

myth concealed a physical philosophy; the early etymologist saw in it a

confusion of language; the early political speculator supposed that myth

was an invention of legislators; the literary Euhemerus found the secret

of myths in the course of an imaginary voyage to a fabled island.

Then came the moment of the Christian attacks, and Pagan philosophers,

touched with Oriental pantheism, recognised in myths certain pantheistic

symbols and a cryptic revelation of their own Neo-platonism. When the

gods were dead and their altars fallen, then antiquaries brought their

curiosity to the problem of explaining myth. Christians recognised in it

a depraved version of the Jewish sacred writings, and found the ark on

every mountain-top of Greece. The critical nineteenth century brought

in, with Otfried Muller and Lobeck, a closer analysis; and finally, in

the sudden rise of comparative philology, it chanced that philologists

annexed the domain of myths. Each of these systems had its own amount of

truth, but each certainly failed to unravel the whole web of tradition

and of foolish faith.

Meantime a new science has come into existence, the science which

studies man in the sum of all his works and thoughts, as evolved

through the whole process of his development. This science, Comparative

Anthropology, examines the development of law out of custom; the

development of weapons from the stick or stone to the latest repeating

rifle; the development of society from the horde to the nation. It is a

study which does not despise the most backward nor degraded tribe, nor

neglect the most civilised, and it frequently finds in Australians

or Nootkas the germ of ideas and institutions which Greeks or Romans

brought to perfection, or retained, little altered from their early

rudeness, in the midst of civilisation.

It is inevitable that this science should also try its hand on

mythology. Our purpose is to employ the anthropological method--the

study of the evolution of ideas, from the savage to the barbarous, and

thence to the civilised stage--in the province of myth, ritual, and

religion. It has been shown that the light of this method had dawned on

Eusebius in his polemic with the heathen apologists. Spencer, the head

of Corpus, Cambridge (1630-93), had really no other scheme in his mind

in his erudite work on Hebrew Ritual.(1) Spencer was a student of man's

religions generally, and he came to the conclusion that Hebrew ritual

was but an expurgated, and, so to speak, divinely "licensed" adaptation

of heathen customs at large. We do but follow his guidance on less

perilous ground when we seek for the original forms of classical rite

and myth in the parallel usages and legends of the most backward races.

(1) De Legibus Hebraeorum Ritualibus, Tubingae, 1782.

Fontenelle in the last century, stated, with all the clearness of the

French intellect, the system which is partially worked out in this

essay--the system which explains the irrational element in myth as

inherited from savagery. Fontenelle's paper (Sur l'Origine des Fables)

is brief, sensible, and witty, and requires little but copious evidence

to make it adequate. But he merely threw out the idea, and left it to be

neglected.(1)

(1) See Appendix A., Fontenelle's Origine des Fables.

Among other founders of the anthropological or historical school of

mythology, De Brosses should not be forgotten. In his Dieux Fetiches

(1760) he follows the path which Eusebius indicated--the path of Spencer

and Fontenelle--now the beaten road of Tylor and M'Lennan and Mannhardt.

In anthropology, in the science of Waitz, Tylor, and M'Lennan, in

the examination of man's faith in the light of his social, legal, and

historical conditions generally, we find, with Mannhardt, some of the

keys of myth. This science "makes it manifest that the different stages

through which humanity has passed in its intellectual evolution have

still their living representatives among various existing races.

The study of these lower races is an invaluable instrument for the

interpretation of the survivals from earlier stages, which we meet in

the full civilisation of cultivated peoples, but whose origins were in

the remotest fetichism and savagery."(1)

(1) Mannhardt op. cit. p. xxiii.

It is by following this road, and by the aid of anthropology and

of human history, that we propose to seek for a demonstrably actual

condition of the human intellect, whereof the puzzling qualities of myth

would be the natural and inevitable fruit. In all the earlier theories

which we have sketched, inquirers took it for granted that the

myth-makers were men with philosophic and moral ideas like their

own--ideas which, from some reason of religion or state, they expressed

in bizarre terms of allegory. We shall attempt, on the other hand, to

prove that the human mind has passed through a condition quite unlike

that of civilised men--a condition in which things seemed natural and

rational that now appear unnatural and devoid of reason, and in which,

therefore, if myths were evolved, they would, if they survived into

civilisation, be such as civilised men find strange and perplexing.

Our first question will be, Is there a stage of human society and of

the human intellect in which facts that appear to us to be monstrous

and irrational--facts corresponding to the wilder incidents of myth--are

accepted as ordinary occurrences of everyday life? In the region of

romantic rather than of mythical invention we know that there is such

a state. Mr. Lane, in his preface to the Arabian Nights, says that the

Arabs have an advantage over us as story-tellers. They can introduce

such incidents as the change of a man into a horse, or of a woman into a

dog, or the intervention of an Afreet without any more scruple than our

own novelists feel in describing a duel or the concealment of a will.

Among the Arabs the agencies of magic and of spirits are regarded as at

least as probable and common as duels and concealments of wills seem

to be thought by European novelists. It is obvious that we need look no

farther for the explanation of the supernatural events in Arab romances.

Now, let us apply this system to mythology. It is admitted that Greeks,

Romans, Aryans of India in the age of the Sanskrit commentators, and

Egyptians of the Ptolemaic and earlier ages, were as much puzzled as

we are by the mythical adventures of their gods. But is there any

known stage of the human intellect in which similar adventures, and

the metamorphoses of men into animals, trees, stars, and all else

that puzzles us in the civilised mythologies, are regarded as possible

incidents of daily human life? Our answer is, that everything in the

civilised mythologies which we regard as irrational seems only part of

the accepted and natural order of things to contemporary savages, and in

the past seemed equally rational and natural to savages concerning whom

we have historical information.(1) Our theory is, therefore, that the

savage and senseless element in mythology is, for the most part, a

legacy from the fancy of ancestors of the civilised races who were once

in an intellectual state not higher, but probably lower, than that of

Australians, Bush-men, Red Indians, the lower races of South America,

and other worse than barbaric peoples. As the ancestors of the Greeks,

Aryans of India, Egyptians and others advanced in civilisation, their

religious thought was shocked and surprised by myths (originally dating

from the period of savagery, and natural in that period, though even

then often in contradiction to morals and religion) which were preserved

down to the time of Pausanias by local priesthoods, or which were

stereotyped in the ancient poems of Hesiod and Homer, or in the

Brahmanas and Vedas of India, or were retained in the popular religion

of Egypt. This theory recommended itself to Lobeck. "We may believe that

ancient and early tribes framed gods like unto themselves in action and

in experience, and that the allegorical softening down of myths is the

explanation added later by descendants who had attained to purer ideas

of divinity, yet dared not reject the religion of their ancestors."(2)

The senseless element in the myths would, by this theory, be for the

most part a "survival"; and the age and condition of human thought

whence it survived would be one in which our most ordinary ideas about

the nature of things and the limits of possibility did not yet exist,

when all things were conceived of in quite other fashion; the age, that

is, of savagery.

(1) We have been asked to DEFINE a savage. He cannot be defined in an

epigram, but by way of choice of a type:--

1. In material equipment the perfect savage is he who employs tools of

stone and wood, not of metal; who is nomadic rather than settled; who

is acquainted (if at all) only with the rudest forms of the arts of

potting, weaving, fire-making, etc.; and who derives more of his food

from the chase and from wild roots and plants than from any kind of

agriculture or from the flesh of domesticated animals.

2. In psychology the savage is he who (extending unconsciously to the

universe his own implicit consciousness of personality) regards all

natural objects as animated and intelligent beings, and, drawing no hard

and fast line between himself and the things in the world, is readily

persuaded that men may be metamorphosed into plants, beasts and stars;

that winds and clouds, sun and dawn, are persons with human passions

and parts; and that the lower animals especially may be creatures more

powerful than himself, and, in a sense, divine and creative.

3. In religion the savage is he who (while often, in certain moods,

conscious of a far higher moral faith) believes also in ancestral

ghosts or spirits of woods and wells that were never ancestral; prays

frequently by dint of magic; and sometimes adores inanimate objects, or

even appeals to the beasts as supernatural protectors.

4. In society the savage is he who (as a rule) bases his laws on the

well-defined lines of totemism--that is, claims descent from or other

close relation to natural objects, and derives from the sacredness of

those objects the sanction of his marriage prohibitions and blood-feuds,

while he makes skill in magic a claim to distinguished rank.

Such, for our purpose, is the savage, and we propose to explain the more

"senseless" factors in civilised mythology as "survivals" of these ideas

and customs preserved by conservatism and local tradition, or, less

probably, borrowed from races which were, or had been, savage.

(2) Aglaoph., i. 153. Had Lobeck gone a step farther and examined the

mental condition of veteres et priscae gentes, this book would have

been, superfluous. Nor did he know that the purer ideas were also

existing among certain low savages.

It is universally admitted that "survivals" of this kind do account for

many anomalies in our institutions, in law, politics, society, even in

dress and manners. If isolated fragments of earlier ages abide in these,

it is still more probable that other fragments will survive in anything

so closely connected as is mythology with the conservative religious

sentiment and tradition. Our object, then, is to prove that the "silly,

savage, and irrational" element in the myths of civilised peoples is,

as a rule, either a survival from the period of savagery, or has been

borrowed from savage neighbours by a cultivated people, or, lastly,

is an imitation by later poets of old savage data.(1) For example,

to explain the constellations as metamorphosed men, animals, or other

objects of terrestrial life is the habit of savages,(2)--a natural habit

among people who regard all things as on one level of personal life and

intelligence. When the stars, among civilised Greeks or Aryans of India,

are also popularly regarded as transformed and transfigured men, animals

and the like, this belief may be either a survival from the age when the

ancestors of Greeks and Indians were in the intellectual condition

of the Australian Murri; or the star-name and star-myth may have been

borrowed from savages, or from cultivated peoples once savage or apt to

copy savages; or, as in the case of the Coma Berenices, a poet of a late

age may have invented a new artificial myth on the old lines of savage

fancy.

(1) We may be asked why do savages entertain the irrational ideas which

survive in myth? One might as well ask why they eat each other, or

use stones instead of metal. Their intellectual powers are not fully

developed, and hasty analogy from their own unreasoned consciousness

is their chief guide. Myth, in Mr. Darwin's phrase, is one of the

"miserable and indirect consequences of our highest faculties". Descent

of Man, p. 69.

(2) See Custom and Myth, "Star-Myths".

This method of interpreting a certain element in mythology is, we must

repeat, no new thing, though, to judge from the protests of several

mythologists, it is new to many inquirers. We have seen that Eusebius

threw out proposals in this direction; that Spencer, De Brosses, and

Fontenelle unconsciously followed him; and we have quoted from Lobeck

a statement of a similar opinion. The whole matter has been stated as

clearly as possible by Mr. B. B. Tylor:--

"Savages have been for untold ages, and still are, living in the

myth-making stage of the human mind. It was through sheer ignorance and

neglect of this direct knowledge how and by what manner of men myths

are really made that their simple philosophy has come to be buried under

masses of commentator's rubbish..."(1) Mr. Tylor goes on thus (and his

words contain the gist of our argument): "The general thesis maintained

is that myth arose in the savage condition prevalent in remote ages

among the whole human race; that it remains comparatively unchanged

among the rude modern tribes who have departed least from these

primitive conditions, while higher and later civilisations, partly by

retaining its actual principles, and partly by carrying on its inherited

results in the form of ancestral tradition, continued it not merely in

toleration, but in honour".(2) Elsewhere Mr. Tylor points out that by

this method of interpretation we may study myths in various stages

of evolution, from the rude guess of the savage at an explanation of

natural phenomena, through the systems of the higher barbarisms, or

lower civilisations (as in ancient Mexico), and the sacerdotage of

India, till myth reaches its most human form in Greece. Yet even in

Greek myth the beast is not wholly cast out, and Hellas by no means "let

the ape and tiger die". That Mr. Tylor does not exclude the Aryan

race from his general theory is plain enough.(3) "What is the Aryan

conception of the Thunder-god but a poetic elaboration of thoughts

inherited from the savage stage through which the primitive Aryans had

passed?"(4)

(1) Primitive Culture, 2nd edit., i. p. 283.

(2) Op. cit., p. 275.

(3) Primitive Culture, 2nd edit., ii. 265.

(4) Pretty much the same view seems to be taken by Mr. Max Muller

(Nineteenth Century, January, 1882) when he calls Tsui Goab (whom the

Hottentots believe to be a defunct conjuror) "a Hottentot Indra or

Zeus".

The advantages of our hypothesis (if its legitimacy be admitted) are

obvious. In the first place, we have to deal with an actual demonstrable

condition of the human intellect. The existence of the savage state

in all its various degrees, and of the common intellectual habits and

conditions which are shared by the backward peoples, and again the

survival of many of these in civilisation, are indubitable facts. We are

not obliged to fall back upon some fanciful and unsupported theory of

what "primitive man" did, and said, and thought. Nay, more; we escape

all the fallacies connected with the terms "primitive man". We are not

compelled (as will be shown later)(1) to prove that the first men of all

were like modern savages, nor that savages represent primitive man.

It may be that the lowest extant savages are the nearest of existing

peoples to the type of the first human beings. But on this point it is

unnecessary for us to dogmatise. If we can show that, whether men began

their career as savages or not, they have at least passed through the

savage status or have borrowed the ideas of races in the savage

status, that is all we need. We escape from all the snares of theories

(incapable of historical proof) about the really primeval and original

condition of the human family.

(1) Appendix B.

Once more, our theory naturally attaches itself to the general system

of Evolution. We are enabled to examine mythology as a thing of gradual

development and of slow and manifold modifications, corresponding in

some degree to the various changes in the general progress of society.

Thus we shall watch the barbaric conditions of thought which produce

barbaric myths, while these in their turn are retained, or perhaps

purified, or perhaps explained away, by more advanced civilisations.

Further, we shall be able to detect the survival of the savage ideas

with least modification, and the persistence of the savage myths with

least change, among the classes of a civilised population which have

shared least in the general advance. These classes are, first, the

rustic peoples, dwelling far from cities and schools, on heaths or by

the sea; second, the conservative local priesthoods, who retain the more

crude and ancient myths of the local gods and heroes after these

have been modified or rejected by the purer sense of philosophers and

national poets. Thus much of ancient myth is a woven warp and woof of

three threads: the savage donnee, the civilised and poetic modification

of the savage donnee, the version of the original fable which survives

in popular tales and in the "sacred chapters" of local priesthoods. A

critical study of these three stages in myth is in accordance with the

recognised practice of science. Indeed, the whole system is only an

application to this particular province, mythology, of the method by

which the development either of organisms or of human institutions is

traced. As the anomalies and apparently useless and accidental features

in the human or in other animal organisms may be explained as stunted or

rudimentary survivals of organs useful in a previous stage of life, so

the anomalous and irrational myths of civilised races may be explained

as survivals of stories which, in an earlier state of thought and

knowledge, seemed natural enough. The persistence of the myths

is accounted for by the well-known conservatism of the religious

sentiment--a conservatism noticed even by Eusebius. "In later days, when

they became ashamed of the religious beliefs of their ancestors, they

invented private and respectful interpretations, each to suit himself.

For no one dared to shake the ancestral beliefs, as they honoured at a

very high rate the sacredness and antiquity of old associations, and of

the teaching they had received in childhood."(1)

(1) Praep. E., ii. 6, 19.

Thus the method which we propose to employ is in harmony both with

modern scientific procedure and with the views of a clear-sighted Father

of the Church. Consequently no system could well be less "heretical" and

"unorthodox".

The last advantage of our hypothesis which need here be mentioned is

that it helps to explain the DIFFUSION no less than the ORIGIN of the

wild and crazy element in myth. We seek for the origin of the savage

factor of myth in one aspect of the intellectual condition of savages.

We say "in one aspect" expressly; to guard against the suggestion that

the savage intellect has no aspect but this, and no saner ideas than

those of myth. The DIFFUSION of stories practically identical in every

quarter of the globe may be (provisionally) regarded as the result of

the prevalence in every quarter, at one time or another, of similar

mental habits and ideas. This explanation must not be pressed too hard

nor too far. If we find all over the world a belief that men can change

themselves and their neighbours into beasts, that belief will account

for the appearance of metamorphosis in myth. If we find a belief that

inanimate objects are really much on a level with man, the opinion

will account for incidents of myth such as that in which the wooden

figure-head of the Argo speaks with a human voice. Again, a widespread

belief in the separability of the soul or the life from the body will

account for the incident in nursery tales and myths of the "giant who

had no heart in his body," but kept his heart and life elsewhere. An

ancient identity of mental status and the working of similar mental

forces at the attempt to explain the same phenomena will account,

without any theory of borrowing, or transmission of myth, or of

original unity of race, for the world-wide diffusion of many mythical

conceptions.

But this theory of the original similarity of the savage mind everywhere

and in all races will scarcely account for the world-wide distribution

of long and intricate mythical PLOTS, of consecutive series of adroitly

interwoven situations. In presence of these long romances, found among

so many widely severed peoples, conjecture is, at present, almost

idle. We do not know, in many instances, whether such stories were

independently developed, or carried from a common centre, or borrowed by

one race from another, and so handed on round the world.

This chapter may conclude with an example of a tale whose DIFFUSION may

be explained in divers ways, though its ORIGIN seems undoubtedly savage.

If we turn to the Algonkins, a stock of Red Indians, we come on a

popular tradition which really does give pause to the mythologist. Could

this story, he asks himself, have been separately invented in widely

different places, or could the Iroquois have borrowed from the

Australian blacks or the Andaman Islanders? It is a common thing in most

mythologies to find everything of value to man--fire, sun, water--in

the keeping of some hostile power. The fire, or the sun, or the water

is then stolen, or in other ways rescued from the enemy and restored

to humanity. The Huron story (as far as water is concerned) is told by

Father Paul Le Jeune, a Jesuit missionary, who lived among the Hurons

about 1636. The myth begins with the usual opposition between two

brothers, the Cain and Abel of savage legend. One of the brothers, named

Ioskeha, slew the other, and became the father of mankind (as known

to the Red Indians) and the guardian of the Iroquois. The earth was at

first arid and sterile, but Ioskeha destroyed the gigantic frog which

had swallowed all the waters, and guided the torrents into smooth

streams and lakes.(1)

(1) Relations de la Nouvelle France, 1636, p. 103 (Paris, Cramoisy,

1637).

Now where, outside of North America, do we find this frog who swallowed

all the water? We find him in Australia.

"The aborigines of Lake Tyers," remarks Mr. Brough Smyth, "say that at

one time there was no water anywhere on the face of the earth. All the

waters were contained in the body of a huge frog, and men and women

could get none of them. A council was held, and... it was agreed that

the frog should be made to laugh, when the waters would run out of his

mouth, and there would be plenty in all parts."

To make a long story short, all the animals played the jester before

the gigantic solemn frog, who sat as grave as Louis XV. "I do not like

buffoons who don't make me laugh," said that majestical monarch. At last

the eel danced on the tip of his tail, and the gravity of the prodigious

Batrachian gave way. He laughed till he literally split his sides,

and the imprisoned waters came with a rush. Indeed, many persons were

drowned, though this is not the only Australian version of the Deluge.

The Andaman Islanders dwell at a very considerable distance from

Australia and from the Iroquois, and, in the present condition of the

natives of Australia and Andaman, neither could possibly visit the

other. The frog in the Andaman version is called a toad, and he came to

swallow the waters in the following way: One day a woodpecker was eating

honey high up in the boughs of a tree. Far below, the toad was a witness

of the feast, and asked for some honey. "Well, come up here, and you

shall have some," said the woodpecker. "But how am I to climb?" "Take

hold of that creeper, and I will draw you up," said the woodpecker; but

all the while he was bent on a practical joke. So the toad got into a

bucket he happened to possess, and fastened the bucket to the creeper.

"Now, pull!" Then the woodpecker raised the toad slowly to the level of

the bough where the honey was, and presently let him down with a run,

not only disappointing the poor toad, but shaking him severely. The toad

went away in a rage and looked about him for revenge. A happy thought

occurred to him, and he drank up all the water of the rivers and lakes.

Birds and beasts were perishing, woodpeckers among them, of thirst. The

toad, overjoyed at his success, wished to add insult to the injury, and,

very thoughtlessly, began to dance in an irritating manner at his foes.

But then the stolen waters gushed out of his mouth in full volume, and

the drought soon ended. One of the most curious points in this myth is

the origin of the quarrel between the woodpecker and the toad. The same

beginning--the tale of an insult put on an animal by hauling up and

letting him down with a run--occurs in an African Marchen.(1)

(1) Brough Smyth, Aborigines of Victoria, i. 429, 430; Brinton, American

Hero Myths, i. 55. Cf. also Relations de la Nouvelle France, 1636, 1640,

1671; (Sagard, Hist. du Canada, 1636, p. 451;) Journal Anthrop. Inst.,

1881.

Now this strangely diffused story of the slaying of the frog which had

swallowed all the water seems to be a savage myth of which the more

heroic conflict of Indra with Vrittra (the dragon which had swallowed

all the waters) is an epic and sublimer version.(1) "The heavenly water,

which Vrittra withholds from the world, is usually the prize of the

contest."

(1) Ludwig, Der Rig-Veda, iii. p. 337. See postea, "Divine Myths of

India".

The serpent of Vedic myth is, perhaps, rather the robber-guardian than

the swallower of the waters, but Indra is still, like the Iroquois

Ioskeha, "he who wounds the full one".(1) This example of the wide

distribution of a myth shows how the question of diffusion, though

connected with, is yet distinct from that of origin. The advantage

of our method will prove to be, that it discovers an historical and

demonstrable state of mind as the origin of the wild element in

myth. Again, the wide prevalence in the earliest times of this mental

condition will, to a certain extent, explain the DISTRIBUTION of

myth. Room must be left, of course, for processes of borrowing and

transmission, but how Andamanese, Australians and Hurons could borrow

from each other is an unsolved problem.

(1) Gubernatis, Zoological Myth. ii. 395, note 2. "When Indra kills the

serpent he opens the torrent of the waters" (p. 393). See also Aitareya

Brahmana, translated by Haug, ii. 483.

Finally, our hypothesis is not involved in dubious theories of race. To

us, myths appear to be affected (in their origins) much less by the race

than by the stage of culture attained by the people who cherish them.

A fight for the waters between a monstrous dragon like Vrittra and a

heroic god like Indra is a nobler affair than a quarrel for the

waters between a woodpecker and a toad. But the improvement and

transfiguration, so to speak, of a myth at bottom the same is due to the

superior culture, not to the peculiar race, of the Vedic poets, except

so far as culture itself depends on race. How far the purer culture was

attained to by the original superiority of the Aryan over the Andaman

breed, it is not necessary for our purpose to inquire. Thus, on the

whole, we may claim for our system a certain demonstrable character,

which helps to simplify the problems of mythology, and to remove

them from the realm of fanciful guesses and conflicting etymological

conjectures into that of sober science. That these pretensions are not

unacknowledged even by mythologists trained in other schools is proved

by the remarks of Dr. Tiele.(1)

(1) Rev. de l'Hist. des Rel., "Le Mythe de Cronos," January, 1886. Dr.

Tiele is not, it must be noted, a thorough adherent of our theory. See

Modern Mythology: "The Question of Allies".

Dr. Tiele writes: "If I were obliged to choose between this method" (the

system here advocated) "and that of comparative philology, it is the

former that I would adopt without the slightest hesitation. This method

alone enables us to explain the fact, which has so often provoked

amazement, that people so refined as the Greeks,... or so rude, but

morally pure, as the Germans,... managed to attribute to their gods

all manner of cowardly, cruel and disorderly conduct. This method alone

explains the why and wherefore of all those strange metamorphoses

of gods into beasts and plants, and even stones, which scandalised

philosophers, and which the witty Ovid played on for the diversion of

his contemporaries. In short, this method teaches us to recognise in all

those strange stories the survivals of a barbaric age, long passed away,

but enduring to later times in the form of religious traditions, of all

traditions the most persistent.... Finally, this method alone enables us

to explain the origin of myths, because it endeavours to study them

in their rudest and most primitive shape, thus allowing their true

significance to be much more clearly apparent than it can be in the

myths (so often touched, retouched, augmented and humanised) which are

current among races arrived at a certain degree of culture."

The method is to this extent applauded by a most competent authority,

and it has been warmly accepted by a distinguished French school of

students, represented by M. Gaidoz. But it is obvious that the method

rests on a double hypothesis: first, that satisfactory evidence as to

the mental conditions of the lower and backward races is obtainable;

second, that the civilised races (however they began) either passed

through the savage state of thought and practice, or borrowed very

freely from people in that condition. These hypotheses have been

attacked by opponents; the trustworthiness of our evidence, especially,

has been assailed. By way of facilitating the course of the exposition

and of lessening the disturbing element of controversy, a reply to

the objections and a defence of the evidence has been relegated to an

Appendix.(1) Meanwhile we go on to examine the peculiar characteristics

of the mental condition of savages and of peoples in the lower and upper

barbarisms.

(1) Appendix B.

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