And Saul perceived that it was Samuel, and he bowed with
his face to the ground and did obeisance. And Samuel said to
Saul, Why hast thou disquieted me to bring me up? And Saul
answered, I am sore distressed: for the Philistines make war
against me, and Elohim is departed from me and answereth me no
more, neither by prophets nor by dreams; therefore I have called
thee that thou mayest make known unto me what I shall do.
And Samuel said, Wherefore then dost thou ask of me, seeing that
Jahveh is departed from thee and is become thine adversary?
And Jahveh hath wrought for himself, as he spake by me, and
Jahveh hath rent the kingdom out of thine hand and given it to
thy neighbour, even to David. Because thou obeyedst not the
voice of Jahveh and didst not execute his fierce wrath upon
Amalek, therefore hath Jahveh done this thing unto thee this
day. Moreover, Jahveh will deliver Israel also with thee into
the hands of the Philistines; and to-morrow shalt thou and thy
sons be with me: Jahveh shall deliver the host of Israel also
into the hand of the Philistines. Then Saul fell straightway his
full length upon the earth and was sore afraid because of the
words of Samuel... (v. 14-20).
The statement that Saul "perceived" that it was Samuel is not to be
taken to imply that, even now, Saul actually saw the shade of the
prophet, but only that the woman's allusion to the prophetic mantle and
to the aged appearance of the spectre convinced him that it was Samuel.
Reuss [3] in fact translates the passage "Alors Saul reconnut que
c'etait Samuel." Nor does the dialogue between Saul and Samuel
necessarily, or probably, signify that Samuel spoke otherwise than by
the voice of the wise woman. The Septuagint does not hesitate to call
her [Greek], that is to say, a ventriloquist, implying that it was she
who spoke--and this view of the matter is in harmony with the fact that
the exact sense of the Hebrew words which are translated as "a woman
that hath a familiar spirit" is "a woman mistress of _Ob._" _Ob_ means
primitively a leather bottle, such as a wine skin, and is applied alike
to the necromancer and to the spirit evoked. Its use, in these senses,
appears to have been suggested by the likeness of the hollow sound
emitted by a half-empty skin when struck, to the sepulchral tones in
which the oracles of the evoked spirits were uttered by the medium.
It is most probable that, in accordance with the general theory of
spiritual influences which obtained among the old Israelites, the spirit
of Samuel was conceived to pass into the body of the wise woman, and
to use her vocal organs to speak in his own name--for I cannot discover
that they drew any clear distinction between possession and inspiration.
[4]
If the story of Saul's consultation of the occult powers is to be
regarded as an authentic narrative, or, at any rate, as a statement
which is perfectly veracious so far as the intention of the narrator
goes--and, as I have said, I see no reason for refusing it this
character--it will be found, on further consideration, to throw a
flood of light, both directly and indirectly, on the theology of Saul's
countrymen--that is to say, upon their beliefs respecting the nature and
ways of spiritual beings.
Even without the confirmation of other abundant evidences to the same
effect, it leaves no doubt as to the existence, among them, of the
fundamental doctrine that man consists of a body and of a spirit, which
last, after the death of the body, continues to exist as a ghost. At the
time of Saul's visit to Endor, Samuel was dead and buried; but that his
spirit would be believed to continue to exist in Sheol may be concluded
from the well-known passage in the song attributed to Hannah, his
mother:--
Jahveh killeth and maketh alive;
He bringeth down to Sheol and bringeth up.
(1 Sam. ii. 6.)
And it is obvious that this Sheol was thought to be a place underground
in which Samuel's spirit had been disturbed by the necromancer's
summons, and in which, after his return thither, he would be joined by
the spirits of Saul and his sons when they had met with their bodily
death on the hill of Gilboa. It is further to be observed that the
spirit, or ghost, of the dead man presents itself as the image of
the man himself--it is the man, not merely in his ordinary corporeal
presentment (even down to the prophet's mantle) but in his moral and
intellectual characteristics. Samuel, who had begun as Saul's friend and
ended as his bitter enemy, gives it to be understood that he is annoyed
at Saul's presumption in disturbing him; and that, in Sheol, he is as
much the devoted servant of Jahveh and as much empowered to speak in
Jahveh's name as he was during his sojourn in the upper air.
It appears now to be universally admitted that, before the exile, the
Israelites had no belief in rewards and punishments after death, nor in
anything similar to the Christian heaven and hell; but our story proves
that it would be an error to suppose that they did not believe in the
continuance of individual existence after death by a ghostly simulacrum
of life. Nay, I think it would be very hard to produce conclusive
evidence that they disbelieved in immortality; for I am not aware that
there is anything to show that they thought the existence of the souls
of the dead in Sheol ever came to an end. But they do not seem to
have conceived that the condition of the souls in Sheol was in any way
affected by their conduct in life. If there was immortality, there was
no state of retribution in their theology. Samuel expects Saul and his
sons to come to him in Sheol.
The next circumstance to be remarked is that the name of _Elohim_ is
applied to the spirit which the woman sees "coming up out of the earth,"
that is to say, from Sheol. The Authorised Version translates this in
its literal sense "gods." The Revised Version gives "god" with "gods"
in the margin. Reuss renders the word by "spectre," remarking in a
note that it is not quite exact; but that the word Elohim expresses
"something divine, that is to say, superhuman, commanding respect and
terror" ("Histoire des Israelites," p. 321). Tuch, in his commentary on
Genesis, and Thenius, in his commentary on Samuel, express substantially
the same opinion. Dr. Alexander (in Kitto's "Cyclopaedia" s. v. "God")
has the following instructive remarks:--
[_Elohim_ is] sometimes used vaguely to describe unseen
powers or superhuman beings that are not properly thought of as
divine. Thus the witch of Endor saw "Elohim ascending out of the
earth" (1 Sam. xxviii. 13), meaning thereby some beings of an
unearthly, superhuman character. So also in Zechariah xii. 8, it
is said "the house of David shall be as Elohim, as the angel of
the Lord," where, as the transition from Elohim to the angel of
the Lord is a minori ad majus, we must regard the former as a
vague designation of supernatural powers.
Dr. Alexander speaks here of "beings"; but there is no reason to
suppose that the wise woman of Endor referred to anything but a solitary
spectre; and it is quite clear that Saul understood her in this sense,
for he asks "What form is HE of?"
This fact, that the name of Elohim is applied to a ghost, or disembodied
soul, conceived as the image of the body in which it once dwelt, is
of no little importance. For it is well known that the same term was
employed to denote the gods of the heathen, who were thought to have
definite quasi-corporeal forms and to be as much real entities as any
other Elohim. [5] The difference which was supposed to exist between
the different Elohim was one of degree, not one of kind. Elohim was, in
logical terminology, the genus of which ghosts, Chemosh, Dagon,
Baal, and Jahveh were species. The Israelite believed Jahveh to be
immeasurably superior to all other kinds of Elohim. The inscription
on the Moabite stone shows that King Mesa held Chemosh to be, as
unquestionably, the superior of Jahveh. But if Jahveh was thus
supposed to differ only in degree from the undoubtedly zoomorphic or
anthropomorphic "gods of the nations," why is it to be assumed that
he also was not thought of as having a human shape? It is possible for
those who forget that the time of the great prophetic writers is at
least as remote from that of Saul as our day is from that of Queen
Elizabeth, to insist upon interpreting the gross notions current in the
earlier age and among the mass of the people by the refined conceptions
promulgated by a few select spirits centuries later. But if we take the
language constantly used concerning the Deity in the books of Genesis,
Exodus, Joshua, Judges, Samuel, or Kings, in its natural sense (and I am
aware of no valid reason which can be given for taking it in any other
sense), there cannot, to my mind, be a doubt that Jahveh was conceived
by those from whom the substance of these books is mainly derived, to
possess the appearance and the intellectual and moral attributes of a
man; and, indeed, of a man of just that type with which the Israelites
were familiar in their stronger and intellectually abler rulers and
leaders. In a well-known passage in Genesis (i. 27) Elohim is said to
have "created man in his own image, in the image of Elohim created he
him." It is "man" who is here said to be the image of Elohim--not man's
soul alone, still less his "reason," but the whole man. It is obvious
that for those who call a manlike ghost Elohim, there could be no
difficulty in conceiving any other Elohim under the same aspect. And if
there could be any doubt on this subject, surely it cannot stand in the
face of what we find in the fifth chapter, where, immediately after a
repetition of the statement that "Elohim created man, in the likeness
of Elohim made he him," it is said that Adam begat Seth "in his own
likeness, after his image." Does this mean that Seth resembled Adam only
in a spiritual and figurative sense? And if that interpretation of
the third verse of the fifth chapter of Genesis is absurd, why does it
become reasonable in the first verse of the same chapter?
But let us go further. Is not the Jahveh who "walks in the garden in
the cool of the day"; from whom one may hope to "hide oneself among the
trees"; of whom it is expressly said that "Moses and Aaron, Nadab and
Abihu, and seventy of the elders of Israel," saw the Elohim of Israel
(Exod. xxiv. 9-11); and that, although the seeing Jahveh was understood
to be a high crime and misdemeanour, worthy of death, under ordinary
circumstances, yet, for this once, he "laid not his hand on the nobles
of Israel"; "that they beheld Elohim and did eat and drink"; and that
afterwards Moses saw his back (Exod. xxxiii. 23)--is not this Deity
conceived as manlike in form? Again, is not the Jahveh who eats with
Abraham under the oaks at Mamre, who is pleased with the "sweet savour"
of Noah's sacrifice, to whom sacrifices are said to be "food" [6]--is
not this Deity depicted as possessed of human appetites? If this were
not the current Israelitish idea of Jahveh even in the eighth century
B.C., where is the point of Isaiah's scathing admonitions to his
countrymen: "To what purpose is the multitude of your sacrifices unto
me? saith Jahveh: I am full of the burnt-offerings of rams and the fat
of fed beasts; and I delight not in the blood of bullocks, or of lambs,
or of he-goats" (Isa. i. 11). Or of Micah's inquiry, "Will Jahveh be
pleased with thousands of rams or with ten thousands of rivers of oil?"
(vi. 7.) And in the innumerable passages in which Jahveh is said to be
jealous of other gods, to be angry, to be appeased, and to repent; in
which he is represented as casting off Saul because the king does not
quite literally execute a command of the most ruthless severity; or as
smiting Uzzah to death because the unfortunate man thoughtlessly, but
naturally enough, put out his hand to stay the ark from falling--can any
one deny that the old Israelites conceived Jahveh not only in the image
of a man, but in that of a changeable, irritable, and, occasionally,
violent man? There appears to me, then, to be no reason to doubt that
the notion of likeness to man, which was indubitably held of the ghost
Elohim, was carried out consistently throughout the whole series of
Elohim, and that Jahveh-Elohim was thought of as a being of the same
substantially human nature as the rest, only immeasurably more powerful
for good and for evil.
The absence of any real distinction between the Elohim of different
ranks is further clearly illustrated by the corresponding absence of any
sharp delimitation between the various kinds of people who serve as the
media of communication between them and men. The agents through whom
the lower Elohim are consulted are called necromancers, wizards, and
diviners, and are looked down upon by the prophets and priests of the
higher Elohim; but the "seer" [7] connects the two, and they are all
alike in their essential characters of media. The wise woman of Endor
was believed by others, and, I have little doubt, believed herself, to
be able to "bring up" whom she would from Sheol, and to be inspired,
whether in virtue of actual possession by the evoked Elohim, or
otherwise, with a knowledge of hidden things, I am unable to see that
Saul's servant took any really different view of Samuel's powers, though
he may have believed that he obtained them by the grace of the higher
Elohim. For when Saul fails to find his father's asses, his servant says
to him--
Behold, there is in this city a man of Elohim, and he is a man
that is held in honour; all that he saith cometh surely to pass;
now let us go thither; peradventure, he can tell us concerning
our journey whereon we go. Then said Saul to his servant, But
behold if we go, what shall we bring the man? for the bread is
spent in our vessels and there is not a present to bring to the
man of Elohim. What have we? And the servant answered Saul again
and said, Behold I have in my hand the fourth part of a shekel
of silver: that will I give to the man of Elohim to tell us our
way. (Beforetime in Israel when a man went to inquire of Elohim,
then he said, Come and let us go to the Seer: for he that is now
called a Prophet was beforetime called a Seer [8])
(1 Sam. ix. 6-10).
In fact, when, shortly afterwards, Saul accidentally meets Samuel, he
says, "Tell me, I pray thee, where the Seer's house is." Samuel answers,
"I am the Seer." Immediately afterwards Samuel informs Saul that the
asses are found, though how he obtained his knowledge of the fact is not
stated. It will be observed that Samuel is not spoken of here as, in
any special sense, a seer or prophet of Jahveh, but as a "man of
Elohim"--that is to say, a seer having access to the "spiritual powers,"
just as the wise woman of Endor might have been said to be a "woman
of Elohim"--and the narrator's or editor's explanatory note seems to
indicate that "Prophet" is merely a name, introduced later than the time
of Samuel, for a superior kind of "Seer," or "man of Elohim." [9]
Another very instructive passage shows that Samuel was not only
considered to be diviner, seer, and prophet in one, but that he was
also, to all intents and purposes, priest of Jahveh--though, according
to his biographer, he was not a member of the tribe of Levi. At the
outset of their acquaintance, Samuel says to Saul, "Go up before me into
the high place," where, as the young maidens of the city had just before
told Saul, the Seer was going, "for the people will not eat till he
come, because he doth bless the sacrifice" (1 Sam. x. 12). The use of
the word "bless" here--as if Samuel were not going to sacrifice, but
only to offer a blessing or thanksgiving--is curious. But that Samuel
really acted as priest seems plain from what follows. For he not only
asks Saul to share in the customary sacrificial feast, but he disposes
in Saul's favour of that portion of the victim which the Levitical
legislation, doubtless embodying old customs, recognises as the priest's
special property. [10]
Although particular persons adopted the profession of media between men
and Elohim, there was no limitation of the power, in the view of ancient
Israel, to any special class of the population. Saul inquires of Jahveh
and builds him altars on his own account; and in the very remarkable
story told in the fourteenth chapter of the first book of Samuel
(v. 37-46), Saul appears to conduct the whole process of divination,
although he has a priest at his elbow. David seems to do the same.
Moreover, Elohim constantly appear in dreams--which in old Israel did
not mean that, as we should say, the subject of the appearance "dreamed
he saw the spirit"; but that he veritably saw the Elohim which, as a
soul, visited his soul while his body was asleep. And, in the course
of the history of Israel Jahveh himself thus appears to all sorts
of persons, non-Israelites as well as Israelites. Again, the Elohim
possess, or inspire, people against their will, as in the case of Saul
and Saul's messengers, and then these people prophesy--that is to say,
"rave"--and exhibit the ungoverned gestures attributed by a later age to
possession by malignant spirits. Apart from other evidence to be adduced
by and by, the history of ancient demonology and of modern revivalism
does not permit me to doubt that the accounts of these phenomena given
in the history of Saul may be perfectly historical.
In the ritual practices, of which evidence is to be found in the books
of Judges and Samuel, the chief part is played by sacrifices, usually
burnt offerings. Whenever the aid of the Elohim of Israel is sought, or
thanks are considered due to him, an altar is built, and oxen, sheep,
and goats are slaughtered and offered up. Sometimes the entire victim
is burnt as a holocaust; more frequently only certain parts, notably
the fat about the kidneys, are burnt on the altar. The rest is properly
cooked; and, after the reservation of a part for the priest, is made the
foundation of a joyous banquet, in which the sacrificer, his family,
and such guests as he thinks fit to invite, participate. [11] Elohim was
supposed to share in the feast, and it has been already shown that that
which was set apart on the altar, or consumed by fire, was spoken of as
the food of Elohim, who was thought to be influenced by the costliness,
or by the pleasant smell, of the sacrifice in favour of the sacrificer.
All this bears out the view that, in the mind of the old Israelite,
there was no difference, save one of degree, between one Elohim and
another. It is true that there is but little direct evidence to show
that the old Israelites shared the widespread belief of their own, and
indeed of all times, that the spirits of the dead not only continue to
exist, but are capable of a ghostly kind of feeding and are grateful for
such aliment as can be assimilated by their attenuated substance, and
even for clothes, ornaments, and weapons. [12] That they were familiar
with this doctrine in the time of the captivity is suggested by the
well-known reference of Ezekiel (xxxii. 27) to the "mighty that are
fallen of the uncircumcised, which are gone down to [Sheol] hell with
their weapons of war, and have laid their swords under their heads."
Perhaps there is a still earlier allusion in the "giving of food for the
dead" spoken of in Deuteronomy (xxvi. 14). [13]
It must be remembered that the literature of the old Israelites, as
it lies before us, has been subjected to the revisal of strictly
monotheistic editors, violently opposed to all kinds of idolatry, who
are not likely to have selected from the materials at their disposal any
obvious evidence, either of the practice under discussion, or of that
ancestor-worship which is so closely related to it, for preservation in
the permanent records of their people.
The mysterious objects known as _Teraphim,_ which are occasionally
mentioned in Judges, Samuel, and elsewhere, however, can hardly be
interpreted otherwise than as indications of the existence both of
ancestor-worship and of image-worship in old Israel. The teraphim
were certainly images of family gods, and, as such, in all probability
represented deceased ancestors. Laban indignantly demands of his
son-in-law, "Wherefore hast thou stolen my Elohim?" which Rachel, who
must be assumed to have worshipped Jacob's God, Jahveh, had carried off,
obviously because she, like her father, believed in their divinity. It
is not suggested that Jacob was in any way scandalised by the idolatrous
practices of his favourite wife, whatever he may have thought of her
honesty when the truth came to light; for the teraphim seem to have
remained in his camp, at least until he "hid" his strange gods "under
the oak that was by Shechem" (Gen. xxxv. 4). And indeed it is open
to question if he got rid of them then, for the subsequent history of
Israel renders it more than doubtful whether the teraphim were regarded
as "strange gods" even as late as the eighth century B.C.
The writer of the books of Samuel takes it quite as a matter of course
that Michal, daughter of one royal Jahveh worshipper and wife of the
servant of Jahveh _par excellence,_ the pious David, should have her
teraphim handy, in her and David's chamber, when she dresses them up in
their bed into a simulation of her husband, for the purpose of deceiving
her father's messengers. Even one of the early prophets, Hosea, when
he threatens that the children of Israel shall abide many days without
"ephod or teraphim" (iii. 4), appears to regard both as equally proper
appurtenances of the suspended worship of Jahveh, and equally certain
to be restored when that is resumed. When we further take into
consideration that only in the reign of Hezekiah was the brazen serpent,
preserved in the temple and believed to be the work of Moses, destroyed,
and the practice of offering incense to it, that is, worshipping it,
abolished--that Jeroboam could set up "calves of gold" for Israel to
worship, with apparently none but a political object, and certainly with
no notion of creating a schism among the worshippers of Jahveh, or of
repelling the men of Judah from his standard--it seems obvious, either
that the Israelites of the tenth and eleventh centuries B.C. knew not
the second commandment, or that they construed it merely as part of the
prohibition to worship any supreme god other than Jahveh, which precedes
it.
In seeking for information about the teraphim, I lighted upon the
following passage in the valuable article on that subject by Archdeacon
Farrar, in Ritto's "Cyclopaedia of Biblical Literature," which is
so much to the purpose of my argument, that I venture to quote it in
full:--
The main and certain results of this review are that the
teraphim were rude human images; that the use of them was an
antique Aramaic custom; that there is reason to suppose them to
have been images of deceased ancestors; that they were consulted
oracularly; that they were not confined to Jews; that their use
continued down to the latest period of Jewish history;
and lastly, that although the enlightened prophets and strictest
later kings regarded them as idolatrous, the priests were much
less averse to such images, and their cult was not considered in
any way repugnant to the pious worship of Elohim, nay, even to
the worship of him "under the awful title of Jehovah." In fact,
they involved _a monotheistic idolatry very different indeed
from polytheism;_ and the tolerance of them by priests, as
compared with the denunciation of them by the prophets, offers a
close analogy to the views of the Roman Catholics respecting
pictures and images as compared with the views of Protestants.
It was against this use of idolatrous symbols and emblems in a
monotheistic worship that the _second_ commandment was
directed, whereas the first is aimed against the graver sin of
direct polytheism. But the whole history of Israel shows how
utterly and how early the law must have fallen into desuetude.
The worship of the golden calf and of the calves at Dan and
Bethel, against which, so far as we know, neither Elijah nor
Elisha said a single word; the tolerance of high places,
teraphim and betylia; the offering of incense for centuries to
the brazen serpent destroyed by Hezekiah; the occasional
glimpses of the most startling irregularities sanctioned
apparently even in the temple worship itself, prove most
decisively that a pure monotheism and an independence of symbols
was the result of a slow and painful course of God's disciplinal
dealings among the noblest thinkers of a single nation, and not,
as is so constantly and erroneously urged, the instinct of the
whole Semitic race; in other words, one single branch of the
Semites was under God's providence _educated_ into pure
monotheism only by centuries of misfortune and series of
inspired men (vol. iii. p. 986).
It appears to me that the researches of the anthropologist lead him to
conclusions identical in substance, if not in terms, with those here
enunciated as the result of a careful study of the same subject from a
totally different point of view.
There is abundant evidence in the books of Samuel and elsewhere that
an article of dress termed an _ephod_ was supposed to have a peculiar
efficacy in enabling the wearer to exercise divination by means of
Jahveh-Elohim. Great and long continued have been the disputes as to the
exact nature of the ephod--whether it always means something to wear, or
whether it sometimes means an image. But the probabilities are that
it usually signifies a kind of waistcoat or broad zone, with
shoulder-straps, which the person who "inquired of Jahveh" put on. In
1 Samuel xxiii. 2 David appears to have inquired without an ephod, for
Abiathar the priest is said to have "come down with an ephod in his
hand" only subsequently. And then David asks for it before inquiring of
Jahveh whether the men of Keilah would betray him or not. David's action
is obviously divination pure and simple; and it is curious that he seems
to have worn the ephod himself and not to have employed Abiathar as a
medium. How the answer was given is not clear though the probability is
that it was obtained by casting lots. The _Urim_ and _Thummim_ seem to
have been two such lots of a peculiarly sacred character, which were
carried in the pocket of the high priest's "breastplate." This last was
worn along with the ephod.
With the exception of one passage (1 Sam. xiv. 18) the ark is ignored in
the history of Saul. But in this place the Septuagint reads "ephod" for
ark, while in 1 Chronicles xiii. 3 David says that "we sought not unto
it [the ark] in the days of Saul." Nor does Samuel seem to have paid
any regard to the ark after its return from Philistia; though, in his
childhood, he is said to have slept in "the temple of Jahveh, where the
ark of Elohim was" (1 Sam. iii. 3), at Shiloh and there to have been the
seer of the earliest apparitions vouchsafed to him by Jahveh. The
space between the cherubim or winged images on the canopy or cover
(_Kapporeth_) of this holy chest was held to be the special seat of
Jahveh--the place selected for a temporary residence of the Supreme
Elohim who had, after Aaron and Phineas, Eli and his sons for priests
and seers. And, when the ark was carried to the camp at Eben-ezer, there
can be no doubt that the Israelites, no less than the Philistines, held
that "Elohim is come into the camp" (iv. 7), and that the one, as much
as the other, conceived that the Israelites had summoned to their aid
a powerful ally in "these (or this) mighty Elohim"--elsewhere called
Jahve-Sabaoth, the Jahveh of Hosts. If the "temple" at Shiloh was
the pentateuchal tabernacle, as is suggested by the name of "tent of
meeting" given to it in 1 Samuel ii. 22, it was essentially a large
tent, though constituted of very expensive and ornate materials; if, on
the other hand, it was a different edifice, there can be little doubt
that this "house of Jahveh" was built on the model of an ordinary house
of the time. But there is not the slightest evidence that, during the
reign of Saul, any greater importance attached to this seat of the cult
of Jahveh than to others. Sanctuaries, and "high places" for sacrifice,
were scattered all over the country from Dan to Beersheba. And, as
Samuel is said to have gone up to one of these high places to bless the
sacrifice, it may be taken for tolerably certain that he knew nothing of
the Levitical laws which severely condemn the high places and those who
sacrifice away from the sanctuary hallowed by the presence of the ark.
There is no evidence that, during the time of the Judges and of Samuel,
any one occupied the position of the high priest of later days. And
persons who were neither priests nor Levites sacrificed and divined or
"inquired of Jahveh," when they pleased and where they pleased, without
the least indication that they, or any one else in Israel at that
time, knew they were doing wrong. There is no allusion to any special
observance of the Sabbath; and the references to circumcision are
indirect.
Such are the chief articles of the theological creed of the old
Israelites, which are made known to us by the direct evidence of the
ancient record to which we have had recourse, and they are as remarkable
for that which they contain as for that which is absent from them.
They reveal a firm conviction that, when death takes place, a something
termed a soul or spirit leaves the body and continues to exist in Sheol
for a period of indefinite duration, even though there is no proof of
any belief in absolute immortality; that such spirits can return to
earth to possess and inspire the living; that they are, in appearance
and in disposition, likenesses of the men to whom they belonged, but
that, as spirits, they have larger powers and are freer from physical
limitations; that they thus form a group among a number of kinds of
spiritual existences known as Elohim, of whom Jahveh, the national
God of Israel, is one; that, consistently with this view, Jahveh was
conceived as a sort of spirit, human in aspect and in senses, and with
many human passions, but with immensely greater intelligence and power
than any other Elohim, whether human or divine. Further, the evidence
proves that this belief was the basis of the Jahveh-worship to which
Samuel and his followers were devoted; that there is strong reason for
believing, and none for doubting, that idolatry, in the shape of the
worship of the family gods or teraphim, was practised by sincere and
devout Jahveh-worshippers; that the ark, with its protective tent or
tabernacle, was regarded as a specially, but by no means exclusively,
favoured sanctuary of Jahveh; that the ephod appears to have had a
particular value for those who desired to divine by the help of Jahveh;
and that divination by lots was practised before Jahveh. On the other
hand, there is not the slightest evidence of any belief in retribution
after death, but the contrary; ritual obligations have at least as
strong sanction as moral; there are clear indications that some of
the most stringent of the Levitical laws were unknown even to Samuel;
priests often appear to be superseded by laymen, even in the performance
of sacrifices and divination; and no line of demarcation can be drawn
between necromancer, wizard, seer, prophet, and priest, each of whom is
regarded, like all the rest, as a medium of communication between the
world of Elohim and that of living men.
The theological system thus defined offers to the anthropologist no
feature which is devoid of a parallel in the known theologies of other
races of mankind, even of those who inhabit parts of the world most
remote from Palestine. And the foundation of the whole, the ghost
theory, is exactly that theological speculation which is the most widely
spread of all, and the most deeply rooted among uncivilised men. I am
able to base this statement, to some extent, on facts within my own
knowledge. In December 1848, H.M.S. _Rattlesnake,_ the ship to which
I then belonged, was anchored off Mount Ernest, an island in Torres
Straits. The people were few and well disposed; and, when a friend of
mine (whom I will call B.) and I went ashore, we made acquaintance
with an old native, Paouda by name. In course of time we became quite
intimate with the old gentleman, partly by the rendering of mutual good
offices, but chiefly because Paouda believed he had discovered that B.
was his father-in-law. And his grounds for this singular conviction were
very remarkable. We had made a long stay at Cape York hard by; and, in
accordance with a theory which is widely spread among the Australians,
that white men are the reincarnated spirits of black men, B. was held to
be the ghost, or _narki,_ of a certain Mount Ernest native, one Antarki,
who had lately died, on the ground of some real or fancied resemblance
to the latter. Now Paouda had taken to wife a daughter of Antarki's,
named Domani, and as soon as B. informed him that he was the ghost of
Antarki, Paouda at once admitted the relationship and acted upon it.
For, as all the women on the island had hidden away in fear of the ship,
and we were anxious to see what they were like, B. pleaded pathetically
with Paouda that it would be very unkind not to let him see his daughter
and grandchildren. After a good deal of hesitation and the exaction of
pledges of deep secrecy, Paouda consented to take B., and myself as B.'s
friend, to see Domani and the three daughters, by whom B. was received
quite as one of the family, while I was courteously welcomed on his
account.
This scene made an impression upon me which is not yet effaced. It left
no question on my mind of the sincerity of the strange ghost theory
of these savages, and of the influence which their belief has on their
practical life. I had it in my mind, as well as many a like result
of subsequent anthropological studies, when, in 1869, [14] I wrote as
follows:--
There are savages without God in any proper sense of the word,
but none without ghosts. And the Fetishism, Ancestor-worship,
Hero-worship, and Demonology of primitive savages are all, I
believe, different manners of expression of their belief in
ghosts, and of the anthropomorphic interpretation of out-of-the-
way events which is its concomitant. Witchcraft and sorcery are
the practical expressions of these beliefs; and they stand in
the same relation to religious worship as the simple
anthropomorphism of children or savages does to theology.
I do not quote myself with any intention of making a claim to
originality in putting forth this view; for I have since discovered that
the same conception is virtually contained in the great "Discours sur
l'Histoire Universelle" of Bossuet, now more than two centuries old:
[15]--
Le culte des hommes morta faisoit presque tout le fond de
l'idolatrie; presque tous les hommes sacrificient aux manes,
c'est-a-dire aux ames des morts. De si anciennes erreurs nous
font voir a la verite combien etoit ancienne la croyance de
l'immortalite de l'ame, et nous montrent qu'elle doit etre
rangee parmi les premieres traditions du genre humain.
Mais l'homme, qui gatoit tout, en avoit etrangement abuse,
puisqu'elle le portoit a sacrificer aux morts. On alloit meme
jusqu'a cet exces, de leur sacrifier des hommes vivans; ou tuoit
leurs esclaves, et meme leurs femmes, pour les aller servir dans
l'autre monde.
Among more modern writers J. G. Muller, in his excellent "Geschichte
der amerikanischen Urreligionen" (1855), clearly recognises
"gespensterhafter Geisterglaube" as the foundation of all savage
and semi-civilised theology, and I need do no more than mention the
important developments of the same view which are to be found in Mr.
Tylor's "Primitive Culture," and in the writings of Mr. Herbert Spencer,
especially his recently-published "Ecclesiastical Institutions." [16]
It is a matter of fact that, whether we direct our attention to
the older conditions of civilised societies, in Japan, in China, in
Hindostan, in Greece, or in Rome, [17] we find, underlying all
other theological notions, the belief in ghosts, with its inevitable
concomitant sorcery; and a primitive cult, in the shape of a worship of
ancestors, which is essentially an attempt to please, or appease their
ghosts. The same thing is true of old Mexico and Peru, and of all the
semi-civilised or savage peoples who have developed a definite cult; and
in those who, like the natives of Australia, have not even a cult, the
belief in, and fear of, ghosts is as strong as anywhere else. The most
clearly demonstrable article of the theology of the Israelites in the
eleventh and twelfth centuries B.C. is therefore simply the article
which is to be found in all primitive theologies, namely, the belief
that a man has a soul which continues to exist after death for a longer
or shorter time, and may return, as a ghost, with a divine, or at least
demonic, character, to influence for good or evil (and usually for
evil) the affairs of the living. But the correspondence between the old
Israelitic and other archaic forms of theology extends to details. If,
in order to avoid all chance of direct communication, we direct
our attention to the theology of semi-civilised people, such as the
Polynesian Islanders, separated by the greatest possible distance,
and by every conceivable physical barrier, from the inhabitants of
Palestine, we shall find not merely that all the features of old
Israelitic theology, which are revealed in the records cited, are found
among them; but that extant information as to the inner mind of these
people tends to remove many of the difficulties which those who have not
studied anthropology find in the Hebrew narrative.
One of the best sources, if not the best source, of information on these
topics is Mariner's _Tonga Islands,_ which tells us of the condition of
Cook's "Friendly Islanders" eighty years ago, before European influence
was sensibly felt among them. Mariner, a youth of fair education and of
no inconsiderable natural ability (as the work which was drawn up from
the materials he furnished shows), was about fifteen years of age when
his ship was attacked and plundered by the Tongans: he remained four
years in the islands, familiarised himself with the language, lived the
life of the people, became intimate with many of them, and had every
opportunity of acquainting himself with their opinions, as well as with
their habits and customs. He seems to have been devoid of prejudices,
theological or other, and the impression of strict accuracy which his
statements convey has been justified by all the knowledge of Polynesian
life which has been subsequently acquired.
It is desirable, therefore, to pay close attention to that which Mariner
tells us about the theological views of these people: [18]--
The human soul, after its separation from the body, is
termed a _hotooa_ (a god or spirit), and is believed to
exist in the shape of the body; to have the same propensities as
during life, but to be corrected by a more enlightened
understanding, by which it readily distinguishes good from evil,
truth from falsehood, right from wrong; having the same
attributes as the original gods, but in a minor degree, and
having its dwelling for ever in the happy regions of Bolotoo,
holding the same rank in regard to other souls as during this
life; it has, however, the power of returning to Tonga to
inspire priests, relations, or others, or to appear in dreams to
those it wishes to admonish; and sometimes to the external eye
in the form of a ghost or apparition; but this power of
reappearance at Tonga particularly belongs to the souls of
chiefs rather than of matabooles. (vol. ii. p. 130).
The word "hotooa" is the same as that which is usually spelt "atua"
by Polynesian philologues, and it will be convenient to adopt this
spelling. Now under this head of "_Atuas_ or supernatural intelligent
beings" the Tongans include:--
"1. The original gods. 2. The souls of nobles that have all attributes
in common with the first but inferior in degree. 3. The souls of
matabooles [19] that are still inferior, and have not the power as the
two first have of coming back to Tonga to inspire the priest, though
they are supposed to have the power of appearing to their relatives.
4. The original attendants or servants, as it were, of the gods, who,
although they had their origin and have ever since existed in Bolotoo,
are still inferior to the third class. 5. The _Atua pow_ or mischievous
gods. 6. _Mooi,_ or the god that supports the earth and does not belong
to Bolotoo (vol. ii. pp. 103, 104)."
From this it appears that the "Atuas" of the Polynesian are exactly
equivalent to the "Elohim" of the old Israelite. [20] They comprise
everything spiritual, from a ghost to a god, and from "the merely
tutelar gods to particular private families" (vol, ii. p. 104), to
Ta-li-y-Tooboo, who was the national god of Tonga. The Tongans had no
doubt that these Atuas daily and hourly influenced their destinies
and could, conversely, be influenced by them. Hence their "piety," the
incessant acts of sacrificial worship which occupied their lives, and
their belief in omens and charms. Moreover, the Atuas were believed to
visit particular persons,--their own priests in the case of the higher
gods, but apparently anybody in that of the lower,--and to inspire them
by a process which was conceived to involve the actual residence of the
god, for the time being, in the person inspired, who was thus rendered
capable of prophesying (vol. ii. p. 100). For the Tongan, therefore,
inspiration indubitably was possession.
When one of the higher gods was invoked, through his priest, by a chief
who wished to consult the oracle, or, in old Israelitic phraseology,
to "inquire of," the god, a hog was killed and cooked over night, and,
together with plantains, yams, and the materials for making the peculiar
drink _kava_ (of which the Tongans were very fond), was carried next day
to the priest. A circle, as for an ordinary kava-drinking entertainment,
was then formed; but the priest, as the representative of the god,
took the highest place, while the chiefs sat outside the circle, as an
expression of humility calculated to please the god.
As soon as they are all seated the priest is considered as
inspired, the god being supposed to exist within him from that
moment. He remains for a considerable time in silence with his
hands clasped before him, his eyes are cast down and he rests
perfectly still. During the time the victuals are being shared
out and the kava preparing, the matabooles sometimes begin to
consult him; sometimes he answers, and at other times not;
in either case he remains with his eyes cast down. Frequently he
will not utter a word till the repast is finished and the kava
too. When he speaks he generally begins in a low and very
altered tone of voice, which gradually rises to nearly its
natural pitch, though sometimes a little above it. All that he
says is supposed to be the declaration of the god, and he
accordingly speaks in the first person, as if he were the god.
All this is done generally without any apparent inward emotion
or outward agitation; but, on some occasions, his countenance
becomes fierce, and as it were inflamed, and his whole frame
agitated with inward feeling; he is seized with an universal
trembling, the perspiration breaks out on his forehead, and his
lips turning black are convulsed; at length tears start in
floods from his eyes, his breast heaves with great emotion, and
his utterance is choked. These symptoms gradually subside.
Before this paroxysm comes on, and after it is over, he often
eats as much as four hungry men under other circumstances could
devour. The fit being now gone off, he remains for some time
calm and then takes up a club that is placed by him for the
purpose, turns it over and regards it attentively; he then looks
up earnestly, now to the right, now to the left, and now again
at the club; afterwards he looks up again and about him in like
manner, and then again fixes his eyes on the club, and so on for
several times. At length he suddenly raises the club, and, after
a moment's pause, strikes the ground or the adjacent part of the
house with considerable force, immediately the god leaves him,
and he rises up and retires to the back of the ring among the
people (vol. i. pp. 100, 101).
The phenomena thus described, in language which, to any one who is
familiar with the manifestations of abnormal mental states among
ourselves, bears the stamp of fidelity, furnish a most instructive
commentary upon the story of the wise woman of Endor. As in the latter,
we have the possession by the spirit or soul (Atua, Elohim), the strange
voice, the speaking in the first person. Unfortunately nothing (beyond
the loud cry) is mentioned as to the state of the wise woman of Endor.
But what we learn from other sources (_e.g._ 1 Sam. x. 20-24) respecting
the physical concomitants of inspiration among the old Israelites
has its exact equivalent in this and other accounts of Polynesian
prophetism. An excellent authority, Moerenhout, who lived among the
people of the Society Islands many years and knew them well, says that,
in Tahiti, the _role_ of the prophet had very generally passed out of
the hands of the priests into that of private persons who professed
to represent the god, often assumed his name, and in this capacity
prophesied. I will not run the risk of weakening the force of
Moerenhout's description of the prophetic state by translating it:--
"Un individu, dans cet etat, avait le bras gauche enveloppe d'un morceau
d'etoffe, signe de la presence de la Divinite. Il ne parlait que d'un
ton imperieux et vehement. Ses attaques, quand il allait prophetiser,
etaient aussi effroyables qu'imposantes. Il tremblait d'abord de tous
ses membres, la figure enflee, les yeux hagards, rouges et etincelants
d'une expression sauvage. Il gesticulait, articulait des mots vides de
sens, poussait des cris horribles qui faisaient tressaillir tous
les assistants, et s'exaltait parfois au point qu'on n'osait par
l'approcher. Autour de lui, le silence de la terreur et du respect....
C'est alors qu'il repondait aux questions, annoncait l'avenir, le destin
des batailles, la volonte des dieux; et, chose etonnante! au sein de
ce delire, de cet enthousiasme religieux, son langage etait grave,
imposant, son eloquence noble et persuasive." [21]
Just so Saul strips off his clothes, "prophesies" before Samuel, and
lies down "naked all that day and night."
Both Mariner and Moerenhout refuse to have recourse to the hypothesis of
imposture in order to account for the inspired state of the Polynesian
prophets. On the contrary, they fully believe in their sincerity.
Mariner tells the story of a young chief, an acquaintance of his, who
thought himself possessed by the Atua of a dead woman who had fallen in
love with him, and who wished him to die that he might be near her in
Bolotoo. And he died accordingly. But the most valuable evidence on this
head is contained in what the same authority says about King Finow's
son. The previous king, Toogoo Ahoo, had been assassinated by Finow, and
his soul, become an Atua of divine rank in Bolotoo, had been pleased
to visit and inspire Finow's son--with what particular object does not
appear.
When this young chief returned to Hapai, Mr. Mariner, who was
upon a footing of great friendship with him, one day asked him
how he felt himself when the spirit of Toogoo Ahoo visited him;
he replied that he could not well describe his feelings, but the
best he could say of it was, that he felt himself all over in a
glow of heat and quite restless and uncomfortable, and did not
feel his own personal identity, as it were, but seemed to have a
mind different from his own natural mind, his thoughts wandering
upon strange and unusual subjects, though perfectly sensible of
surrounding objects. He next asked him how he knew it was the
spirit of Toogoo Ahoo? His answer was, 'There's a fool! How can
I tell you _how_ I knew it! I felt and knew it was so by a
kind of consciousness; my _mind_ told me that it was Toogoo
Ahoo (vol. i. pp. 104, 105).
Finow's son was evidently made for a theological disputant, and fell
back at once on the inexpugnable stronghold of faith when other evidence
was lacking. "There's a fool! I know it is true, because I know it," is
the exemplar and epitome of the sceptic-crushing process in other places
than the Tonga Islands.
The island of Bolotoo, to which all the souls (of the upper classes at
any rate) repair after the death of the body, and from which they return
at will to interfere, for good or evil, with the lives of those whom
they have left behind, obviously answers to Sheol. In Tongan tradition,
this place of souls is a sort of elysium above ground and pleasant
enough to live in. But, in other parts of Polynesia, the corresponding
locality, which is called Po, has to be reached by descending into the
earth, and is represented dark and gloomy like Sheol. But it was not
looked upon as a place of rewards and punishments in any sense. Whether
in Bolotoo or in Po, the soul took the rank it had in the flesh; and,
a shadow, lived among the shadows of the friends and houses and food of
its previous life.
The Tongan theologians recognised several hundred gods; but there was
one, already mentioned as their national god, whom they regarded as far
greater than any of the others, "as a great chief from the top of the
sky down to the bottom of the earth" (Mariner, vol. ii. p. 106). He
was also god of war, and the tutelar deity of the royal family, whoever
happened to be the incumbent of the royal office for the time being. He
had no priest except the king himself, and his visits, even to
royalty, were few and far between. The name of this supreme deity was
Ta-li-y-Tooboo, the literal meaning of which is said to be "Wait there,
Tooboo," from which it would appear that the peculiar characteristic
of Ta-li-y-Tooboo, in the eyes of his worshippers, was persistence of
duration. And it is curious to notice, in relation to this circumstance,
that many Hebrew philologers have thought the meaning of Jahveh to be
best expressed by the word "Eternal." It would probably be difficult to
express the notion of an eternal being, in a dialect so little fitted
to convey abstract conceptions as Tongan, better than by that of one who
always "waits there."
The characteristics of the gods in Tongan theology are exactly those
of men whose shape they are supposed to possess, only they have more
intelligence and greater power. The Tongan belief that, after death, the
human Atua more readily distinguishes good from evil, runs parallel with
the old Israelitic conception of Elohim expressed in Genesis, "Ye shall
be as Elohim, knowing good from evil." They further agreed with the old
Israelites, that "all rewards for virtue and punishments for vice happen
to men in this world only, and come immediately from the gods" (vol. ii.
p. 100). Moreover, they were of opinion that though the gods approve of
some kinds of virtue, are displeased with some kinds of vice, and, to a
certain extent, protect or forsake their worshippers according to
their moral conduct, yet neglect to pay due respect to the deities, and
forgetfulness to keep them in good humour, might be visited with even
worse consequences than moral delinquency. And those who will carefully
study the so-called "Mosaic code" contained in the books of Exodus,
Leviticus, and Numbers, will see that, though Jahveh's prohibitions of
certain forms of immorality are strict and sweeping, his wrath is quite
as strongly kindled against infractions of ritual ordinances. Accidental
homicide may go unpunished, and reparation may be made for wilful theft.
On the other hand, Nadab and Abihu, who "offered strange fire before
Jahveh, which he had not commanded them," were swiftly devoured by
Jahveh's fire; he who sacrificed anywhere except at the allotted place
was to be "cut off from his people"; so was he who ate blood; and the
details of the upholstery of the Tabernacle, of the millinery of the
priests' vestments, and of the cabinet work of the ark, can plead direct
authority from Jahveh, no less than moral commands.
Amongst the Tongans, the sacrifices were regarded as gifts of food and
drink offered to the divine Atuas, just as the articles deposited by the
graves of the recently dead were meant as food for Atuas of lower rank.
A kava root was a constant form of offering all over Polynesia. In the
excellent work of the Rev. George Turner, entitled _Nineteen Years in
Polynesia_ (p. 241), I find it said of the Samoans (near neighbours of
the Tongans):--
_The offerings_ were principally cooked food. As in ancient
Greece so in Samoa, the first cup was in honour of the god.
It was either poured out on the ground or _waved_ towards
the heavens, reminding us again of the Mosaic ceremonies.
The chiefs all drank a portion out of the same cup, according to
rank; and after that, the food brought as an offering was
divided and eaten '_there before the Lord._'
In Tonga, when they consulted a god who had a priest, the latter, as
representative of the god, had the first cup; but if the god, like
Ta-li-y-Tooboo, had no priest, then the chief place was left vacant, and
was supposed to be occupied by the god himself. When the first cup of
kava was filled, the mataboole who acted as master of the ceremonies
said, "Give it to your god," and it was offered, though only as a matter
of form. In Tonga and Samoa there were many sacred places or _morais,_
with houses of the ordinary construction, but which served as temples in
consequence of being dedicated to various gods; and there were altars
on which the sacrifices were offered; nevertheless there were few or
no images. Mariner mentions none in Tonga, and the Samoans seem to have
been regarded as no better than atheists by other Polynesians because
they had none. It does not appear that either of these peoples had
images even of their family or ancestral gods.
In Tahiti and the adjacent islands, Moerenhout (t. i. p. 471) makes the
very interesting observation, not only that idols were often absent,
but that, where they existed, the images of the gods served merely as
depositories for the proper representatives of the divinity. Each of
these was called a _maro aurou,_ and was a kind of girdle artistically
adorned with red, yellow, blue, and black feathers--the red feathers
being especially important--which were consecrated and kept as sacred
objects within the idols. They were worn by great personages on solemn
occasions, and conferred upon their wearers a sacred and almost divine
character. There is no distinct evidence that the _maro aurou_ was
supposed to have any special efficacy in divination, but one cannot fail
to see a certain parallelism between this holy girdle, which endowed its
wearer with a particular sanctity, and the ephod.
According to the Rev. R. Taylor, the New Zealanders formerly used the
word _karakia_ (now employed for "prayer") to signify a "spell, charm,
or incantation," and the utterance of these karakias constituted the
chief part of their cult. In the south, the officiating priest had a
small image, "about eighteen inches long, resembling a peg with a
carved head," which reminds one of the form commonly attributed to the
teraphim.
"The priest first bandaged a fillet of red parrot feathers under the
god's chin, which was called his pahau or beard; this bandage was made
of a certain kind of sennet, which was tied on in a peculiar way. When
this was done it was taken possession of by the Atua, whose spirit
entered it. The priest then either held it in the hand and vibrated it
in the air whilst the powerful karakia was repeated, or he tied a piece
of string (formed of the centre of a flax leaf) round the neck of the
image and stuck it in the ground. He sat at a little distance from it,
leaning against a tuahu, a short stone pillar stuck in the ground in a
slanting position and, holding the string in his hand, he gave the god a
jerk to arrest his attention, lest he should be otherwise engaged, like
Baal of old, either hunting, fishing, or sleeping, and therefore must
be awaked.... The god is supposed to make use of the priest's tongue in
giving a reply. Image-worship appears to have been confined to one part
of the island. The Atua was supposed only to enter the image for the
occasion. The natives declare they did not worship the image itself, but
only the Atua it represented, and that the image was merely used as a
way of approaching him." [22]
This is the excuse for image-worship which the more intelligent
idolaters make all the world over; but it is more interesting to observe
that, in the present case, we seem to have the equivalents of divination
by teraphim, with the aid of something like an ephod (which, however, is
used to sanctify the image and not the priest) mixed up together. Many
Hebrew archaeologists have supposed that the term "ephod" is sometimes
used for an image (particularly in the case of Gideon's ephod), and the
story of Micah, in the book of Judges, shows that images were, at any
rate, employed in close association with the ephod. If the pulling of
the string to call the attention of the god seems as absurd to us as
it appears to have done to the worthy missionary, who tells us of the
practice, it should be recollected that the high priest of Jahveh was
ordered to wear a garment fringed with golden bells.
And it shall be upon Aaron to minister; and the sound thereof
shall be heard when he goeth in unto the holy place before
Jahveh, and when he cometh out, that he die not (Exod.
xxviii. 35).
An escape from the obvious conclusion suggested by this passage has
been sought in the supposition that these bells rang for the sake of
the worshippers, as at the elevation of the host in the Roman Catholic
ritual; but then why should the priest be threatened with the well-known
penalty for inadvisedly beholding the divinity?
In truth, the intermediate step between the Maori practice and that of
the old Israelites is furnished by the Kami temples in Japan. These are
provided with bells which the worshippers who present themselves ring,
in order to call the attention of the ancestor-god to their presence.
Grant the fundamental assumption of the essentially human character of
the spirit, whether Atua, Kami, or Elohim, and all these practices are
equally rational.
The sacrifices to the gods in Tonga, and elsewhere in Polynesia, were
ordinarily social gatherings, in which the god, either in his own person
or in that of his priestly representative, was supposed to take part.
These sacrifices were offered on every occasion of importance, and even
the daily meals were prefaced by oblations and libations of food and
drink, exactly answering to those offered by the old Romans to their
manes, penates, and lares. The sacrifices had no moral significance,
but were the necessary result of the theory that the god was either a
deified ghost of an ancestor or chief, or, at any rate, a being of like
nature to these. If one wanted to get anything out of him, therefore,
the first step was to put him in good humour by gifts; and if one
desired to escape his wrath, which might be excited by the most trifling
neglect or unintentional disrespect, the great thing was to pacify
him by costly presents. King Finow appears to have been somewhat of a
freethinker (to the great horror of his subjects), and it was only his
untimely death which prevented him from dealing with the priest of a
god, who had not returned a favourable answer to his supplications,
as Saul dealt with the priests of the sanctuary of Jahveh at Nob.
Nevertheless, Finow showed his practical belief in the gods during the
sickness of a daughter, to whom he was fondly attached, in a fashion
which has a close parallel in the history of Israel.
If the gods have any resentment against us, let the whole
weight of vengeance fall on my head. I fear not their vengeance
--but spare my child; and I earnestly entreat you, Toobo Totai
[the god whom he had evoked], to exert all your influence with
the other gods that I alone may suffer all the punishment they
desire to inflict (vol. i. p. 354).
So when the king of Israel has sinned by "numbering the people," and
they are punished for his fault by a pestilence which slays seventy
thousand innocent men, David cries to Jahveh:--
Lo, I have sinned, and I have done perversely; but these sheep,
what have they done? let thine hand, I pray thee, be against me,
and against my father's house. (2 Sam. xxiv. 17).
Human sacrifices were extremely common in Polynesia; and, in Tonga, the
"devotion" of a child by strangling was a favourite method of averting
the wrath of the gods. The well-known instances of Jephthah's sacrifice
of his daughter and of David's giving up the seven sons of Saul to be
sacrificed by the Gibeonites "before Jahveh," appear to me to leave no
doubt that the old Israelites, even when devout worshippers of Jahveh,
considered human sacrifices, under certain circumstances, to be not only
permissible but laudable. Samuel's hewing to pieces of the miserable
captive, sole survivor of his nation, Agag, "before Jahveh," can hardly
be viewed in any other light. The life of Moses is redeemed from Jahveh,
who "sought to slay him," by Zipporah's symbolical sacrifice of her
child, by the bloody operation of circumcision. Jahveh expressly affirms
that the first-born males of men and beasts are devoted to him; in
accordance with that claim, the first-born males of the beasts are duly
sacrificed; and it is only by special permission that the claim to the
first-born of men is waived, and it is enacted that they may be redeemed
(Exod. xiii. 12-15). Is it possible to avoid the conclusion that
immolation of their first-born sons would have been incumbent on the
worshippers of Jahveh, had they not been thus specially excused? Can any
other conclusion be drawn from the history of Abraham and Isaac?
Does Abraham exhibit any indication of surprise when he receives the
astounding order to sacrifice his son? Is there the slightest evidence
that there was anything in his intimate and personal acquaintance with
the character of the Deity, who had eaten the meat and drunk the milk
which Abraham set before him under the oaks of Mamre, to lead him to
hesitate--even to wait twelve or fourteen hours for a repetition of
the command? Not a whit. We are told that "Abraham rose early in the
morning" and led his only child to the slaughter, as if it were the
most ordinary business imaginable. Whether the story has any historical
foundation or not, it is valuable as showing that the writer of it
conceived Jahveh as a deity whose requirement of such a sacrifice need
excite neither astonishment nor suspicion of mistake on the part of his
devotee. Hence, when the incessant human sacrifices in Israel,
during the age of the kings, are put down to the influence of foreign
idolatries, we may fairly inquire whether editorial Bowdlerising has not
prevailed over historical truth.
An attempt to compare the ethical standards of two nations, one of which
has a written code, while the other has not, is beset with difficulties.
With all that is strange and, in many cases, repulsive to us in the
social arrangements and opinions respecting moral obligation among
the Tongans, as they are placed before us, with perfect candour, in
Mariner's account, there is much that indicates a strong ethical
sense. They showed great kindliness to one another, and faithfulness in
standing by their comrades in war. No people could have better observed
either the third or the fifth commandment; for they had a particular
horror of blasphemy, and their respectful tenderness towards their
parents and, indeed, towards old people in general, was remarkable.
It cannot be said that the eighth commandment was generally observed,
especially where Europeans were concerned; nevertheless a well-bred
Tongan looked upon theft as a meanness to which he would not condescend.
As to the seventh commandment, any breach of it was considered
scandalous in women and as something to be avoided in self-respecting
men; but, among unmarried and widowed people, chastity was held very
cheap. Nevertheless the women were extremely well treated, and often
showed themselves capable of great devotion and entire faithfulness. In
the matter of cruelty, treachery, and bloodthirstiness, these islanders
were neither better nor worse than most peoples of antiquity. It is to
the credit of the Tongans that they particularly objected to slander;
nor can covetousness be regarded as their characteristic; for Mariner
says:--
When any one is about to eat, he always shares out what he has
to those about him, without any hesitation, and a contrary
conduct would be considered exceedingly vile and selfish (vol.
ii p. 145).
In fact, they thought very badly of the English when Mariner told them
that his countrymen did not act exactly on that principle. It further
appears that they decidedly belonged to the school of intuitive moral
philosophers, and believed that virtue is its own reward; for
Many of the chiefs, on being asked by Mr. Mariner what motives
they had for conducting themselves with propriety, besides the
fear of misfortunes in this life, replied, the agreeable and
happy feeling which a man experiences within himself when he
does any good action or conducts himself nobly and generously as
a man ought to do; and this question they answered as if they
wondered such a question should be asked. (vol. ii. p. 161).
One may read from the beginning of the book of Judges to the end of the
books of Samuel without discovering that the old Israelites had a moral
standard which differs, in any essential respect (except perhaps in
regard to the chastity of unmarried women), from that of the Tongans.
Gideon, Jephthah, Samson, and David are strong-handed men, some of whom
are not outdone by any Polynesian chieftain in the matter of murder
and treachery; while Deborah's jubilation over Jael's violation of the
primary duty of hospitality, proffered and accepted under circumstances
which give a peculiarly atrocious character to the murder of the guest;
and her witch-like gloating over the picture of the disappointment of
the mother of the victim--
The mother of Sisera cried through the lattice,
Why is his chariot so long in coming? (Jud. v. 28.)
--would not have been out of place in the choral service of the most
sanguinary god in the Polynesian pantheon.
With respect to the cannibalism which the Tongans occasionally
practised, Mariner says:--
Although a few young ferocious warriors chose to imitate what
they considered a mark of courageous fierceness in a
neighbouring nation, it was held in disgust by everybody else
(vol. ii. p. 171).
That the moral standard of Tongan life was less elevated than that
indicated in the "Book of the Covenant" (Exod. xxi.-xxiii.) may be
freely admitted. But then the evidence that this Book of the Covenant,
and even the ten commandments as given in Exodus, were known to the
Israelites of the time of Samuel and Saul, is (to say the least) by no
means conclusive. The Deuteronomic version of the fourth commandment is
hopelessly discrepant from that which stands in Exodus. Would any later
writer have ventured to alter the commandments as given from Sinai, if
he had had before him that which professed to be an accurate statement
of the "ten words" in Exodus? And if the writer of Deuteronomy had not
Exodus before him, what is the value of the claim of the version of the
ten commandments therein contained to authenticity? From one end to
the other of the books of Judges and Samuel, the only "commandments
of Jahveh" which are specially adduced refer to the prohibition of the
worship of other gods, or are orders given _ad hoc,_ and have nothing to
do with questions of morality.
In Polynesia, the belief in witchcraft, in the appearance of spiritual
beings in dreams, in possession as the cause of diseases, and in omens,
prevailed universally. Mariner tells a story of a woman of rank who was
greatly attached to King Finow, and who, for the space of six months
after his death, scarcely ever slept elsewhere than on his grave, which
she kept carefully decorated with flowers:--
"One day she went, with the deepest affliction, to the house of Mo-oonga
Toobo, the widow of the deceased chief, to communicate what had happened
to her at the _fytoca_ [grave] during several nights, and which caused
her the greatest anxiety. She related that she had dreamed that the
late How [King] appeared to her and, with a countenance full of
disappointment, asked why there yet remained at Vavaoo so many
evil-designing persons; for he declared that, since he had been at
Bolotoo, his spirit had been disturbed [22] by the evil machinations of
wicked men conspiring against his son; but he declared that 'the youth'
should not be molested nor his power shaken by the spirit of rebellion;
that he therefore came to her with a warning voice to prevent such
disastrous consequences (vol. i. p. 424)."
On inquiry it turned out that the charm of _tattao_ had been performed
on Finow's grave, with the view of injuring his son, the reigning king,
and it is to be presumed that it was this sorcerer's work which had
"disturbed" Finow's spirit. The Rev. Richard Taylor says in the work
already cited: "The account given of the witch of Endor agrees most
remarkably with the witches of New Zealand" (p. 45).
The Tongans also believed in a mode of divination (essentially similar
to the casting of lots) the twirling of a cocoanut.
The object of inquiry... is chiefly whether a sick person will
recover; for this purpose the nut being placed on the ground, a
relation of the sick person determines that, if the nut, when
again at rest, points to such a quarter, the east for example,
that the sick man will recover; he then prays aloud to the
patron god of the family that he will be pleased to direct the
nut so that it may indicate the truth; the nut being next spun,
the result is attended to with confidence, at least with a full
conviction that it will truly declare the intentions of the gods
at the time (vol. ii. p. 227).
Does not the action of Saul, on a famous occasion, involve exactly the
same theological presuppositions?
Therefore Saul said unto Jahveh, the Elohim of Israel, Shew the
right. And Jonathan and Saul were taken by lot: but the people
escaped. And Saul said, Cast _lots_ between me and Jonathan
my son. And Jonathan was taken. And Saul said to Jonathan, Tell
me what thou hast done.... And the people rescued Jonathan so
that he died not (1 Sam. xiv. 41-45).
As the Israelites had great yearly feasts, so had the Polynesians; as
the Israelites practised circumcision, so did many Polynesian people;
as the Israelites had a complex and often arbitrary-seeming multitude
of distinctions between clean and unclean things, and clean and unclean
states of men, to which they attached great importance, so had the
Polynesians their notions of ceremonial purity and their _tabu,_ an
equally extensive and strange system of prohibitions, violation of which
was visited by death. These doctrines of cleanness and uncleanness no
doubt may have taken their rise in the real or fancied utility of the
prescriptions, but it is probable that the origin of many is indicated
in the curious habit of the Samoans to make fetishes of living animals.
It will be recollected that these people had no "gods made with hands,"
but they substituted animals for them.