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 {158} 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. {159} 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,[38] 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:--

Le culte des hommes morts faisoit presque tout le fond de l'idolatrie:

presque tous les hommes sacrifioient aux manes, {160} 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 sacrifier aux morts. On alloit meme

jusqu'a cet exces, de leur sacrifier des hommes vivans: on tuoit leurs

esclaves, et meme leurs femmes, pour les aller servir dans l'autre

monde.[39]

Among more modern writers J. G. Mueller, 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_.[40]

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,[41] 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 {161} same thing is

true of old Mexico and Peru, and of every semi-civilised or savage people

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 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 {162} 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:--

The human soul,[42] 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; {163} 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[43] that are still inferior, and have not the power as the

two first have of coming back to Tonga to inspire the priests, 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.[44] 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. {164} 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 {165} 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 {166} 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

assistans, et s'exaltait parfois au point qu'on n'osait pas

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.[45]

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 {167} 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, although

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 {168} 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 {169} 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 and

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 {170} 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 eat 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 {171} 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 {172} _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.[46]

{173}

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