Modern peasant folklore knows that spirits must have some animal body or

other object to dwell in, a feather, a bag, a bush, for instance. The

Tyrolese object to using grass for toothpicks because of the demons that

may have taken up their abode in the straws. The Bulgarians hold it a

great sin not to fumigate the flour when it is brought from the mill

(particularly if the mill be kept by a Turk) in order to prevent the

devil from entering into it.[338] Amulets are still carried in the most

civilized countries of the world, by the ignorant and superstitious with

real savage faith in their mysterious virtues, by the more enlightened

in quaint survival from the past. The mental and physical phenomena of

what is now called ‘table-turning’ belong to a class of proceedings

which have here been shown to be familiar to the lower races, and

accounted for by them on a theory of extra-human influence which is in

the most extreme sense spiritualistic.

In giving its place in the history of mental development to the doctrine

of the lower races as to embodiment in or penetration of an object by a

spirit or an influence, there is no slight interest in comparing it with

theories familiar to the philosophy of cultured nations. Thus Bishop

Berkeley remarks on the obscure expressions of those who have described

the relation of power to the objects which exert it. He cites Torricelli

as likening matter to an enchanted vase of Circe serving as a receptacle

of force, and declaring that power and impulse are such subtle abstracts

and refined quintessences, that they cannot be enclosed in any other

vessels but the inmost materiality of natural solids; also Leibnitz as

comparing active primitive power to soul or substantial form. Thus, says

Berkeley, must even the greatest men, when they give way to abstraction,

have recourse to words having no certain signification, and indeed mere

scholastic shadows.[339] We may fairly add that such passages show the

civilized metaphysician falling back on such primitive conceptions as

still occupy the minds of the rude natives of Siberia and Guinea. To go

yet farther, I will venture to assert that the scientific conceptions

current in my own schoolboy days, of heat and electricity as invisible

fluids passing in and out of solid bodies, are ideas which reproduce

with extreme closeness the special doctrine of Fetishism.

Under the general heading of Fetishism, but for convenience’ sake

separately, may be considered the worship of ‘stocks and stones.’ Such

objects, if merely used as altars, are not of the nature of fetishes,

and it is first necessary to ascertain that worship is actually

addressed to them. Then arises the difficult question, are the stocks

and stones set up as mere ideal representatives of deities, or are these

deities considered as physically connected with them, embodied in them,

hovering about them, acting through them? In other words, are they only

symbols, or have they passed in the minds of their votaries into real

fetishes? The conceptions of the worshippers are sometimes in this

respect explicitly stated, may sometimes be fairly inferred from the

circumstances, and are often doubtful.

Among the lower races of America, the Dacotas would pick up a round

boulder, paint it, and then, addressing it as grandfather, make

offerings to it and pray to it to deliver them from danger;[340] in the

West India Islands, mention is made of three stones to which the natives

paid great devotion—one was profitable for the crops, another for women

to be delivered without pain, the third for sunshine and rain when they

were wanted;[341] and we hear of Brazilian tribes setting up stakes in

the ground, and making offerings before them to appease their deities or

demons.[342] Stone-worship held an important place in the midst of the

comparatively high culture of Peru, where not only was reverence given

to especial curious pebbles and the like, but stones were placed to

represent the penates of households and the patron-deities of villages.

It is related by Montesinos that when the worship of a certain sacred

stone was given up, a parrot flew from it into another stone, to which

adoration was paid: and though this author is not of good credit, he can

hardly have invented a story which, as we shall see, so curiously

coincides with the Polynesian idea of a bird conveying to and from an

idol the spirit which embodies itself in it.[343]

In Africa, stock-and-stone worship is found among the Damaras of the

South, whose ancestors are represented at the sacrificial feasts by

stakes cut from trees or bushes consecrated to them, to which stakes the

meat is first offered;[344] among the Dinkas of the White Nile, where

the missionaries saw an old woman in her hut offering the first of her

food and drink before a short thick staff planted in the ground, that

the demon might not hurt her;[345] among the Gallas of Abyssinia, a

people with a well-marked doctrine of deities, and who are known to

worship stones and logs, but not idols.[346] In the island of Sambawa,

the Orang Dongo attribute all supernatural or incomprehensible force to

the sun, moon, trees, &c., but especially to stones, and when troubled

by accident or disease, they carry offerings to certain stones to

implore the favour of their genius or dewa.[347] Similar ideas are to be

traced through the Pacific islands, both among the lighter and the

darker races. Thus in the Society Islands, rude logs or fragments of

basalt columns, clothed in native cloth and anointed with oil, received

adoration and sacrifice as divinely powerful by virtue of the atua or

deity which had filled them.[348] So in the New Hebrides worship was

given to water-worn pebbles,[349] while Fijian gods and goddesses had

their abodes or shrines in black stones like smooth round milestones,

and there received their offerings of food.[350] The curiously

anthropomorphic idea of stones being husbands and wives, and even having

children, is familiar to the Fijians as it is to the Peruvians and the

Lapps.

The Turanian tribes of North Asia display stock-and-stone worship in

full sense and vigour. Not only were stones, especially curious ones and

such as were like men or animals, objects of veneration, but we learn

that they were venerated because mighty spirits dwelt in them. The

Samoyed travelling ark-sledge, with its two deities, one with a stone

head, the other a mere black stone, both dressed in green robes with red

lappets, and both smeared with sacrificial blood, may serve as a type of

stone-worship. And as for the Ostyaks, had the famous King Log presented

himself among them, they would without more ado have wrapped his sacred

person in rags, and set him up for worship on a mountain-top or in the

forest.[351] The frequent stock-and-stone worship of modern India

belongs especially to races non-Hindu or part-Hindu in race and culture.

Among such may serve as examples the bamboo which stands for the Bodo

goddess Mainou, and for her receives the annual hog, and the monthly

eggs offered by the women;[352] the stone under the great cotton-tree of

every Khond village, shrine of Nadzu Pennu the village deity;[353] the

clod or stone under a tree, which in Behar will represent the deified

soul of some dead personage who receives worship and inspires oracles

there;[354] the stone kept in every house by the Bakadâra and Betadâra,

which represents their god Bûta, whom they induce by sacrifice to

restrain the demon-souls of the dead from troubling them;[355] the two

rude stones placed under a shed among the Shanars of Tinnevelly, by the

medium of which the great god and goddess receive sacrifice, but which

are thrown away or neglected when done with.[356] The remarkable groups

of standing-stones in India are, in many cases at least, set up for each

stone to represent or embody a deity. Mr. Hislop remarks that in every

part of Southern India, four or five stones may often be seen in the

ryot’s field, placed in a row and daubed with red paint, which they

consider as guardians of the field and call the five Pândus; he

reasonably takes these Hindu names to have superseded more ancient

native appellations. In the Indian groups it is a usual practice to daub

each stone with red paint, forming as it were a great blood-spot where

the face would be if it were a shaped idol.[357] In India, moreover, the

rites of stone-worship are not unexampled among the Hindus proper.

Shashtî, protectress of children, receives worship, vows, and offerings,

especially from women; yet they provide her with no idol or temple, but

her proper representative is a rough stone as big as a man’s head,

smeared with red paint and set at the foot of the sacred vata-tree. Even

Siva is worshipped as a stone, especially that Siva who will afflict a

child with epileptic fits, and then, speaking by its voice, will

announce that he is Panchânana the Five-faced, and is punishing the

child for insulting his image; to this Siva, in the form of a clay idol

or of a stone beneath a sacred tree, there are offered not only flowers

and fruits, but also bloody sacrifices.[358]

This stone-worship among the Hindus seems a survival of a rite belonging

originally to a low civilization, probably a rite of the rude indigenes

of the land, whose religion, largely incorporated into the religion of

the Aryan invaders, has contributed so much to form the Hinduism of

to-day. It is especially interesting to survey the stock-and-stone

worship of the lower culture, for it enables us to explain by the theory

of survival the appearance in the Old World, in the very midst of

classic doctrine and classic art, of the worship of the same rude

objects, whose veneration no doubt dated from remote barbaric antiquity.

As Mr. Grote says, speaking of Greek worship, ‘The primitive memorial

erected to a god did not even pretend to be an image, but was often

nothing more than a pillar, a board, a shapeless stone or a post,

receiving care and decoration from the neighbourhood, as well as

worship.’ Such were the log that stood for Artemis in Eubœa, the stake

that represented Pallas Athene, ‘sine effigie rudis palus, et informe

lignum,’ the unwrought stone (λίθος ἀργός) at Hyettos which ‘after the

ancient manner’ represented Herakles, the thirty such stones which the

Pharæans in like archaic fashion worshipped for the gods, and that one

which received such honour in Bœotian festivals as representing the

Thespian Eros. Theophrastus, in the 4th century B.C., depicts the

superstitious Greek passing the anointed stones in the streets, taking

out his phial and pouring oil on them, falling on his knees to adore,

and going his way. Six centuries later, Arnobius could describe from his

own heathen life the state of mind of the stock-and-stone worshipper,

telling how when he saw one of the stones anointed with oil, he accosted

it in flattering words, and asked benefits from the senseless thing as

though it contained a present power.[359] The ancient and graphic

passage in the book of Isaiah well marks stone-worship within the range

of the Semitic race:

‘Among the smooth stones of the valley is thy portion:

They, they are thy lot:

Even to them hast thou poured a drink-offering,

Hast thou offered a meat-offering.’[360]

Long afterwards, among the local deities which Mohammed found in Arabia,

and which Dr. Sprenger thinks he even acknowledged as divine during a

moment when he well-nigh broke down in his career, were Manah and Lât,

the one a rock, the other a stone or a stone idol; while the veneration

of the black stone of the Kaaba, which Captain Burton thinks an

aërolite, was undoubtedly a local rite which the Prophet transplanted

into his new religion, where it flourishes to this day.[361] The curious

passage in Sanchoniathon which speaks of the Heaven-god forming the

‘bætyls, animated stones’ (θεὸς Οὐρανὸς Βαιτύλια, λίθους ἐμψύχους,

μηχανησάμενος) perhaps refers to meteorites or supposed thunderbolts

fallen from the clouds. To the old Phœnician religion, which made so

deep a contact with the Jewish world on the one side and the Greek and

Roman on the other, there belonged the stone pillars of Baal and the

wooden ashera-posts, but how far these objects were of the character of

altars, symbols, or fetishes, is a riddle.[362] We may still say with

Tacitus, describing the conical pillar which stood instead of an image

to represent the Paphian Venus—‘et ratio in obscuro.’

There are accounts of formal Christian prohibitions of stone-worship in

France and England, reaching on into the early middle ages,[363] which

show this barbaric cultus as then distinctly lingering in popular

religion. Coupling this fact with the accounts of the groups of

standing-stones set up to represent deities in South India, a

corresponding explanation has been suggested in Europe. Are the menhirs,

cromlechs, &c., idols, and circles and lines of idols, worshipped by

remotely ancient dwellers in the land as representatives or embodiments

of their gods? The question at least deserves consideration, although

the ideas with which stone-worship is carried on by different races are

multifarious, and the analogy may be misleading. It is remarkable to

what late times full and genuine stone-worship has survived in Europe.

In certain mountain districts of Norway, up to the end of the last

century, the peasants used to preserve round stones, washed them every

Thursday evening (which seems to show some connection with Thor),

smeared them with butter before the fire, laid them in the seat of

honour on fresh straw, and at certain times of the year steeped them in

ale, that they might bring luck and comfort to the house.[364] In an

account dating from 1851, the islanders of Inniskea, off Mayo, are

declared to have a stone carefully wrapped in flannel, which is brought

out and worshipped at certain periods, and when a storm arises it is

supplicated to send a wreck on the coast.[365] No savage ever showed

more clearly by his treatment of a fetish that he considered it a

personal being, than did these Norwegians and Irishmen. The ethnographic

argument from the existence of stock-and-stone worship among so many

nations of comparatively high culture seems to me of great weight as

bearing on religious development among mankind. To imagine that peoples

skilled in carving wood and stone, and using these arts habitually in

making idols, should have gone out of their way to invent a practice of

worshipping logs and pebbles, is not a likely theory. But on the other

hand, when it is considered how such a rude object serves to uncultured

men as a divine image or receptacle, there is nothing strange in its

being a relic of early barbarism holding its place against more artistic

models through ages of advancing civilization, by virtue of the

traditional sanctity which belongs to survival from remote antiquity.

By a scarcely perceptible transition, we pass to Idolatry. A few chips

or scratches or daubs of paint suffice to convert the rude post or stone

into an idol. Difficulties which complicate the study of stock-and-stone

worship disappear in the worship of even the rudest of unequivocal

images, which can no longer be mere altars, and if symbols must at least

be symbols of a personal being. Idolatry occupies a remarkable district

in the history of religion. It hardly belongs to the lowest savagery,

which simply seems not to have attained to it, and it hardly belongs to

the highest civilization, which has discarded it. Its place is

intermediate, ranging from the higher savagery where it first clearly

appears, to the middle civilization where it reaches its extreme

development, and thenceforward its continuance is in dwindling survival

and sometimes expanding revival. The position thus outlined is, however,

very difficult to map exactly. Idolatry does not seem to come in

uniformly among the higher savages; it belongs, for instance, fully to

the Society Islanders, but not to the Tongans and Fijians. Among higher

nations, its presence or absence does not necessarily agree with

particular national affinities or levels of culture—compare the

idol-worshipping Hindu with his ethnic kinsman the idol-hating Parsi, or

the idolatrous Phœnician with his ethnic kinsman the Israelite, among

whose people the incidental relapse into the proscribed image-worship

was a memory of disgrace. Moreover, its tendency to revive is

ethnographically embarrassing. The ancient Vedic religion seems not to

recognize idolatry, yet the modern Brahmans, professed followers of

Vedic doctrine, are among the greatest idolators of the world. Early

Christianity by no means abrogated the Jewish law against image-worship,

yet image-worship became and still remains widely spread and deeply

rooted in Christendom.

Of Idolatry, so far as its nature is symbolic or representative, I have

given some account elsewhere.[366] The old and greatest difficulty in

investigating the general subject is this, that an image may be, even to

two votaries kneeling side by side before it, two utterly different

things; to the one it may be only a symbol, a portrait, a memento; while

to the other it is an intelligent and active being, by virtue of a life

or spirit dwelling in it or acting through it. In both cases

Image-worship is connected with the belief in spiritual beings, and is

in fact a subordinate development of animism. But it is only so far as

the image approximates to the nature of a material body provided for a

spirit, that Idolatry comes properly into connexion with Fetishism. It

is from this point of view that it is proposed to examine here its

purpose and its place in history. An idol, so far as it belongs to the

theory of spirit-embodiment, must combine the characters of portrait and

fetish. Bearing this in mind, and noticing how far the idol is looked on

as in some way itself an energetic object, or as the very receptacle

enshrining a spiritual god, let us proceed to judge how far, along the

course of civilization, the idea of the image itself exerting power or

being personally animate has prevailed in the mind of the idolater.

As to the actual origin of idolatry, it need not be supposed that the

earliest idols made by man seemed to their maker living or even active

things. It is quite likely that the primary intention of the image was

simply to serve as a sign or representative of some soul or deity, and

certainly this original character is more or less maintained in the

world through the long history of image-worship. At a stage succeeding

this original condition, it may be argued, the tendency to identify the

symbol and the symbolized, a tendency so strong among children and the

ignorant everywhere, led to the idol being treated as a living powerful

being, and thence even to explicit doctrines as to the manner of its

energy or animation. It is, then, in this secondary stage, where the

once merely representative image is passing into the active

image-fetish, that we are particularly concerned to understand it. Here

it is reasonable to judge the idolater by his distinct actions and

beliefs. A line of illustrative examples will carry the personality of

the idol through grade after grade of civilization. Among the lower

races, such thoughts are displayed by the Kurile islander throwing his

idol into the sea to calm the storm; by the negro who feeds ancestral

images and brings them a share of his trade profits, but will beat an

idol or fling it into the fire if it cannot give him luck or preserve

him from sickness; by famous idols of Madagascar, of which one goes

about of himself or guides his bearers, and another answers when spoken

to—at least, they did this till they were ignominiously found out a few

years ago. Among Tatar peoples of North Asia and Europe, conceptions of

this class are illustrated by the Ostyak, who clothes his puppet and

feeds it with broth, but if it brings him no sport will try the effect

of a good thrashing on it, after which he will clothe and feed it again;

by the Lapps, who fancied their uncouth images could go about at will;

or the Esths, who wondered that their idols did not bleed when Dieterich

the Christian priest hewed them down. Among high Asiatic nations, what

could be more anthropomorphic than the rites of modern Hinduism, the

dances of the nautch-girls before the idols, the taking out of Jagannath

in procession to pay visits, the spinning of tops before Krishna to

amuse him? Buddhism is a religion in its principles little favourable to

idolatry. Yet, from setting up portrait-statues of Gautama and other

saints, there developed itself the full worship of images, and even of

images with hidden joints and cavities, which moved and spoke as in our

own middle ages. In China, we read stories of worshippers abusing some

idol that has failed in its duty. ‘How now,’ they say, ‘you dog of a

spirit; we have given you an abode in a splendid temple, we gild you and

feed you and fumigate you with incense, and yet you are so ungrateful

that you won’t listen to our prayers!’ So they drag him in the dirt, and

then, if they get what they want, it is but to clean him and set him up

again, with apologies and promises of a new coat of gilding. There is

what appears a genuine story of a Chinaman who had paid an idol priest

to cure his daughter, but she died; whereupon the swindled worshipper

brought an action at law against the god, who for his fraud was banished

from the province. The classic instances, again, are perfect—the

dressing and anointing of statues, feeding them with delicacies and

diverting them with raree-shows, summoning them as witnesses; the story

of the Arkadian youths coming back from a bad day’s hunting and

revenging themselves by scourging and pricking Pan’s statue, and the

companion tale of the image which fell upon the man who ill-treated it;

the Tyrians chaining the statue of the Sun-god that he might not abandon

their city; Augustus chastising in effigy the ill-behaved Neptune;

Apollo’s statue that moved when it would give an oracle; and the rest of

the images which brandished weapons, or wept, or sweated, to prove their

supernatural powers. Such ideas continued to hold their place in

Christendom, as was natural, considering how directly the holy image or

picture took the place of the household god or the mightier idol of the

temple. The Russian boor covering up the saint’s picture that it may not

see him do wrong; the Mingrelian borrowing a successful neighbour’s

saint when his own crop fails, or when about to perjure himself choosing

for the witness of his deceitful oath a saint of mild countenance and

merciful repute; the peasant of Southern Europe, alternately coaxing and

trampling on his special saint-fetish, and ducking the Virgin or St.

Peter for rain; the winking and weeping images that are worked, even at

this day, to the greater glory of God, or rather to the greater shame of

Man—these are but the extreme instances of the worshipper’s endowment of

the sacred image with a life and personality modelled on his own.[367]

The appearance of idolatry at a grade above the lowest of known human

culture, and its development in extent and elaborateness under higher

conditions of civilization, are well displayed among the native races of

America. ‘Conspicuous by its absence’ among many of the lower tribes,

image-worship comes plainly into view toward the upper levels of

savagery, as where, for instance, Brazilian native tribes set up in

their huts, or in the recesses of the forest, their pygmy

heaven-descended figures of wax or wood;[368] or where the Mandans,

howling and whining, made their prayers before puppets of grass and

skins; or where the spiritual beings of the Algonquins (manitu) or the

Hurons (oki) were represented by, and in language identified with, the

carved wooden heads or more complete images to which worship and

sacrifice were offered. Among the Virginians and other of the more

cultured Southern tribes, these idols even had temples to dwell in.[369]

The discoverers of the New World found idolatry an accepted institution

among the islanders of the West Indies. These strong animists are

recorded to have carved their little images in the shapes in which they

believed the spirits themselves to have appeared to them; and some human

figures bore the names of ancestors in memory of them. The images of

such ‘cemi’ or spirits, some animal, but most of human type, were found

by thousands; and it is even declared that an island near Hayti had a

population of idol-makers, who especially made images of nocturnal

spectres. The spirit could be conveyed with the image, both were called

‘cemi,’ and in the local accounts of sacrifices, oracles, and miracles,

the deity and the idol are mixed together in a way which at least shows

the extreme closeness of their connexion in the native mind.[370] If we

pass to the far higher culture of Peru, we find idols in full reverence,

some of them complete figures, but the great deities of Sun and Moon

figured by discs with human countenances, like those which to this day

represent them in symbol among ourselves. As for the conquered

neighbouring tribes brought under the dominion of the Incas, their idols

were carried, half trophies and half hostages, to Cuzco, to rank among

the inferior deities of the Peruvian Pantheon.[371] In Mexico, idolatry

had attained to its full barbaric development. As in the Aztec mind the

world swarmed with spiritual deities, so their material representatives,

the idols, stood in the houses at the corners of the streets, on every

hill and rock, to receive from passers-by some little offering—a

nosegay, a whiff of incense, a drop or two of blood; while in the

temples more huge and elaborate images enjoyed the dances and

processions in their honour, were fed by the bloody sacrifice of men and

beasts, and received the tribute and reverence paid to the great

national gods.[372] Up to a certain point, such evidence bears upon the

present question. We learn that the native races of the New World had

idols, that those idols in some sort represented ancestral souls and

other deities, and for them received adoration and sacrifice. But

whether the native ideas of the connexion of spirit and image were

obscure, or whether the foreign observers did not get at these ideas, or

partly for both reasons, there is a general want of express statement

how far the idols of America remained mere symbols or portraits, or how

far they had come to be considered the animated bodies of the gods.

It is not always thus, however. In the island regions of the Southern

Hemisphere, while image-worship scarcely appears among the Andaman

islanders, Tasmanians, or Australians, and is absent or rare in various

Papuan and Polynesian districts, it prevails among the majority of the

island tribes who have attained to middle and high savage levels. In

Polynesian islands, where the meaning of the native idolatry has been

carefully examined, it is found to rest on the most absolute theory of

spirit-embodiment. Thus, New-Zealanders set up memorial idols of

deceased persons near the burial-place, talking affectionately to them

as if still alive, and casting garments to them when they passed by,

also they preserve in their houses small carved wooden images, each

dedicated to the spirit of an ancestor. It is distinctly held that such

an atua or ancestral deity enters into the substance of an image in

order to hold converse with the living. A priest can by repeating charms

cause the spirit to enter into the idol, which he will even jerk by a

string round its neck to arrest its attention; it is the same atua or

spirit which will at times enter not the image but the priest himself,

throw him into convulsions, and deliver oracles through him; while it is

quite understood that the images themselves are not objects of worship,

nor do they possess in themselves any virtue, but derive their

sacredness from being the temporary abodes of spirits.[373] In the

Society Islands, it was noticed in Captain Cook’s exploration that the

carved wooden images at burial-places were not considered mere

memorials, but abodes into which the souls of the departed retired. In

Mr. Ellis’s account of the Polynesian idolatry, relating as it seems

especially to this group, the sacred objects might be either mere stocks

and stones, or carved wooden images, from six or eight feet long down to

as many inches. Some of these were to represent ‘tii,’ divine manes or

spirits of the dead, while others were to represent ‘tu,’ or deities of

higher rank and power. At certain seasons, or in answer to the prayers

of the priests, these spiritual beings entered into the idols, which

then became very powerful, but when the spirit departed, the idol

remained only a sacred object. A god often came to and passed from an

image in the body of a bird, and spiritual influence could be

transmitted from an idol by imparting it by contact to certain valued

kinds of feathers, which could be carried away in this ‘inhabited’

state, and thus exert power elsewhere, and transfer it to new idols.

Here then we have the similarity of souls to other spirits shown by the

similar way in which both become embodied in images, just as these same

people consider both to enter into human bodies. And we have the pure

fetish, which here is a feather or a log or stone, brought together with

the more elaborate carved idol, all under one common principle of

spirit-embodiment.[374] In Borneo, notwithstanding the Moslem

prohibition of idolatry, not only do images remain in use, but the

doctrine of spirit-embodiment is distinctly applied to them. Among the

tribes of Western Sarawak the priestesses have made for them rude

figures of birds, which none but they may touch. These are supposed to

become inhabited by spirits, and at the great harvest feasts are hung up

in bunches of ten or twenty in the long common room, carefully veiled

with coloured handkerchiefs. Again, among some Dayak tribes, they will

make rude figures of a naked man and woman, and place these opposite to

one another on the path to the farms. On their heads are head-dresses of

bark, by their sides is the betel-nut basket, and in their hands a short

wooden spear. These figures are said to be inhabited each by a spirit

who prevents inimical influences from passing on to the farms, and

likewise from the farms to the village, and evil betide the profane

wretch who lifts his hand against them—violent fever and sickness would

be sure to follow.[375]

West Africa naturally applies its familiar fetish-doctrine of

spirit-embodiment to images or idols. How an image may be considered a

receptacle for a spirit, is well shown here by the straw and rag figures

of men and beasts made in Calabar at the great triennial purification,

for the expelled spirits to take refuge in, whereupon they are got rid

of over the border.[376] As to positive idols, nothing could be more

explicit than the Gold-Coast account of certain wooden figures called

‘amagai,’ which are specially treated by a ‘wong-man’ or priest, and

have a ‘wong’ or deity in connexion with them; so close is the connexion

conceived between spirit and image, that the idol is itself called

‘wong.’[377] So in the Ewe district, the same ‘edro’ or deity who

inspires the priest is also present in the idol, and ‘edro’ signifies

both god and idol.[378] Waitz sums up the principles of West African

idolatry in a distinct theory of embodiment, as follows: ‘The god

himself is invisible, but the devotional feeling and especially the

lively fancy of the negro demands a visible object to which worship may

be directed. He wishes really and sensibly to behold the god, and seeks

to shape in wood or clay the conception he has formed of him. Now if the

priest, whom the god himself at times inspires and takes possession of,

consecrates this figure to him, the idea has only to follow that the god

may in consequence be pleased to take up his abode in the figure, to

which he may be specially invited by the consecration, and thus

image-worship is seen to be comprehensible enough. Denham found that

even to take a man’s portrait was dangerous and caused mistrust, from

the fear that a part of the living man’s soul might be conveyed by magic

into the artificial figure. The idols are not, as Bosman thinks,

deputies of the gods, but merely objects in which the god loves to place

himself, and which at the same time display him in sensible presence to

his adorers. The god is also by no means bound fast to his dwelling in

the image, he goes out and in, or rather is present in it sometimes with

more and sometimes with less intensity.’[379]

Castrén’s wide and careful researches among the rude Turanian tribes of

North Asia led him to form a similar conception of the origin and nature

of their idolatry. The idols of these people are uncouth objects, often

mere stones or logs with some sort of human countenance, or sometimes

more finished images, even of metal; some are large, some mere dolls;

they belong to individuals, or families, or tribes; they may be kept in

the yurts for private use, or set up in sacred groves or on the steppes

or near the hunting and fishing places they preside over, or they may

even have special temple-houses; some open-air gods are left naked, not

to spoil good clothes, but others under cover are decked out with all an

Ostyak’s or Samoyed’s wealth of scarlet cloths and costly furs,

necklaces and trinkets; and lastly, to the idols are made rich offerings

of food, clothes, furs, kettles, pipes, and the rest of the inventory of

Siberian nomade riches. Now these idols are not to be taken as mere

symbols or portraits of deities, but the worshippers mostly imagine that

the deity dwells in the image or, so to speak, is embodied in it,

whereby the idol becomes a real god capable of giving health and

prosperity to man. On the one hand, the deity becomes serviceable to the

worshipper by being thus contained and kept for his use, and on the

other hand, the god profits by receiving richer offerings, failing which

it would depart from its receptacle. We even hear of numerous spirits

being contained in one image, and flying off at the death of the shaman

who owned it. In Buddhist Tibet, as in West Africa, the practice of

conjuring into puppets the demons which molest men is a recognized rite;

while in Siam the making of clay puppets to be exposed on trees or by

the roadside, or set adrift with food-offerings in baskets, is a

recognized manner of expelling disease-spirits.[380] In the

image-worship of modern India, there crop up traces of the

embodiment-theory. It is possible for the intelligent Hindu to attach as

little real personality to a divine image, as to the man of straw which

he makes in order to celebrate the funeral rites of a relative whose

body cannot be recovered. He can even protest against being treated as

an idolater at all, declaring the images of his gods to be but symbols,

bringing to his mind thoughts of the real deities, as a portrait reminds

one of a friend no longer to be seen in the body. Yet in the popular

religion of his country, what could be more in conformity with the

fetish-theory than the practice of making temporary hollow clay idols by

tens of thousands, which receive no veneration for themselves, and only

become objects of worship when the officiating brahman has invited the

deity to dwell in the image, performing the ceremony of the ‘adhivâsa’

or inhabitation, after which he puts in the eyes and the ‘prâna,’ i.e.,

breath, life, or soul.[381]

Nowhere, perhaps, in the wide history of religion, can we find

definitions more full and absolute of the theory of deities actually

animating their images, than in those passages from early Christian

writers which describe the nature and operation of the heathen idols.

Arnobius introduces the heathen as declaring that it is not the bronze

or gold and silver material they consider to be gods, but they worship

in them those beings which sacred dedication introduces, and causes to

inhabit the artificial images.[382] Augustine cites as follows the

opinions attributed to Hermes Trismegistus. This Egyptian, he tells us,

considers some gods as made by the highest Deity, and some by men; ‘he

asserts the visible and tangible images to be as it were bodies of gods,

for there are within them certain invited spirits, of some avail for

doing harm or for fulfilling certain desires of those who pay them

divine honours and rites of worship. By a certain art to connect these

invisible spirits with visible objects of corporeal matter, that such

may be as it were animated bodies, effigies dedicate and subservient to

the spirits—this is what he calls making gods, and men have received

this great and wondrous power.’ And further, this Trismegistus is made

to speak of ‘statues animated with sense and full of spirit, doing so

great things; statues prescient of the future, and predicting it by

lots, by priests, by dreams, and by many other ways.’[383] This idea, as

accepted by the early Christians themselves, with the qualification that

the spiritual beings inhabiting the idols were not beneficent deities

but devils, is explicitly stated by Minucius Felix, in a passage in the

‘Octavius,’ which gives an instructive account of the animistic

philosophy of Christianity towards the beginning of the third century:

‘Thus these impure spirits or demons, as shown by the magi, by the

philosophers, and by Plato, are concealed by consecration in statues and

images, and by their afflatus obtain the authority as of a present deity

when at times they inspire priests, inhabit temples, occasionally

animate the filaments of the entrails, govern the flight of birds, guide

the falling of lots, give oracles enveloped in many falsehoods ... also

secretly creeping into (men’s) bodies as thin spirits, they feign

diseases, terrify minds, distort limbs, in order to compel men to their

worship; that fattening on the steam of altars or their offered victims

from the flocks, they may seem to have cured the ailments which they had

constrained. And these are the madmen whom ye see rush forth into public

places; and the very priests without the temple thus go mad, thus rave,

thus whirl about.... All these things most of you know, how the very

demons confess of themselves, so often as they are expelled by us from

the patients’ bodies with torments of word and fires of prayer. Saturn

himself, and Serapis, and Jupiter, and whatsoever demons ye worship,

overcome by pain declare what they are; nor surely do they lie

concerning their iniquity, above all when several of you are present.

Believe these witnesses, confessing the truth of themselves, that they

are demons. For adjured by the true and only God, they shudder reluctant

in the wretched bodies; and either they issue forth at once, or vanish

gradually, according as the faith of the patient aids, or the grace of

the curer favours.’[384]

The strangeness with which such words now fall upon our ears is full of

significance. It is one symptom of that vast quiet change which has come

over animistic philosophy in the modern educated world. Whole orders of

spiritual beings, worshipped in polytheistic religion, and degraded in

early Christendom to real but evil demons, have since passed from

objective to subjective existence, have faded from the Spiritual into

the Ideal. By the operation of similar intellectual changes, the general

theory of spirit-embodiment, having fulfilled the great work it had for

ages to do in religion and philosophy, has now dwindled within the

limits of the educated world to near its vanishing-point. The doctrines

of Disease-possession and Oracle-possession, once integral parts of the

higher philosophy, and still maintaining a vigorous existence in the

lower culture, seem to be dying out within the influence of the higher

into dogmatic survival, conscious metaphor, and popular superstition.

The doctrine of spirit-embodiment in objects, Fetishism, now scarcely

appears outside barbaric regions save in the peasant folklore which

keeps it up amongst us with so many other remnants of barbaric thought.

And the like theory of spiritual influence as applied to Idolatry,

though still to be studied among savages and barbarians, and on record

in past ages of the civilized world, has perished so utterly amongst

ourselves, that few but students are aware of its ever having existed.

To bring home to our minds the vastness of the intellectual tract

which separates modern from savage philosophy, and to enable us to

look back along the path where step by step the mind’s journey was

made, it will serve us to glance over the landmarks which language to

this day keeps standing. Our modern languages reach back through the

middle ages to classic and barbaric times, where in this matter the

transition from the crudest primæval animism is quite manifest. We

keep in daily use, and turn to modern meaning, old words and idioms

which carry us home to the philosophy of ancient days. We talk of

‘genius’ still, but with thought how changed. The genius of Augustus

was a tutelary demon, to be sworn by and to receive offerings on an

altar as a deity. In modern English, Shakspere, Newton, or Wellington,

is said to be led and prompted by his genius, but that genius is a

shrivelled philosophic metaphor. So the word ‘spirit’ and its kindred

terms keep up with wondrous pertinacity the traces which connect the

thought of the savage with its hereditary successor, the thought of

the philosopher. Barbaric philosophy retains as real what civilized

language has reduced to simile. The Siamese is made drunk with the

demon of the arrack that possesses the drinker, while we with so

different sense still extract the ‘spirit of wine.’[385] Look at the

saying ascribed to Pythagoras, and mentioned by Porphyry. ‘The sound

indeed which is given by striking brass, is the voice of a certain

demon contained in that brass.’ These might have been the

representative words of some savage animistic philosopher; but with

the changed meaning brought by centuries of philosophizing, Oken hit

upon a definition almost identical in form, that ‘What sounds,

announces its spirit’ (‘Was tönt, gibt seinen Geist kund’).[386] What

the savage would have meant, or Porphyry after him did mean, was that

the brass was actually animated by a spirit of the brass apart from

its matter, but when a modern philosopher takes up the old phrase, all

he means is the qualities of the brass. As in other animistic phrases

of thought and feeling such as ‘animal spirits,’ or being in ‘good and

bad spirits,’ the term only recalls with an effort the long-past

philosophy which it once expressed. The modern theory of the mind

considers it capable of performing even exalted and unusual functions

without the intervention of prompting or exciting demons; yet the old

recognition of such beings crops up here and there in phrases which

adapt animistic ideas to commonplaces of human disposition, as when a

man is still said to be animated by a patriotic spirit, or possessed

by a spirit of disobedience. In old times the ἐγγαστρίμυθος, or

‘ventriloquus’ was really held to have a spirit rumbling or talking

from inside his body, as when Eurykles the soothsayer was inspired by

such a familiar; or when a certain Patriarch mentioning a demon heard

to speak out of a man’s belly, remarks on the worthy place it had

chosen to dwell in. In the time of Hippokrates, the giving of oracular

responses by such ventriloquism was practised by certain women as a

profession. To this day in China one may get an oracular response from

a spirit apparently talking out of a medium’s stomach, for a fee of

about twopence-halfpenny. How changed a philosophy it marks, that

among ourselves the word ‘ventriloquist’ should have sunk to its

present meaning.[387] Nor is that change less significant which,

starting with the conception of a man being really ἔνθεος, possessed

by a deity within him, carries on a metamorphosed relic of this

thorough animistic thought, from ἐνθουσιασμός to ‘enthusiasm.’ With

all this, let it not be supposed that such change of opinion in the

educated world has come about through wanton incredulity or decay of

the religious temperament. Its source is the alteration in natural

science, assigning new causes for the operations of nature and the

events of life. The theory of the immediate action of personal spirits

has here, as so widely elsewhere, given place to ideas of force and

law. No indwelling deity now regulates the life of the burning sun, no

guardian angels drive the stars across the arching firmament, the

divine Ganges is water flowing down into the sea to evaporate into

cloud and descend again in rain. No deity simmers in the boiling pot,

no presiding spirits dwell in the volcano, no howling demon shrieks

from the mouth of the lunatic. There was a period of human thought

when the whole universe seemed actuated by spiritual life. For our

knowledge of our own history, it is deeply interesting that there

should remain rude races yet living under the philosophy which we have

so far passed from, since Physics, Chemistry, Biology, have seized

whole provinces of the ancient Animism, setting force for life and law

for will.

Footnote 229:

See Taylor, ‘New Zealand,’ p. 134; J. G. Müller, ‘Amerikanische

Urreligionen,’ p. 171.

Footnote 230:

Philo Jud. de Gigantibus, iv.

Footnote 231:

Rituale Romanum: De Exorcizandis Obsessis a Dæmonio.

Footnote 232:

Oldfield, ‘Abor. of Australia’ in ‘Tr. Eth. Soc.’ vol. iii. p. 236.

See Bonwick, ‘Tasmanians,’ p. 181.

Footnote 233:

Taylor, ‘New Zealand,’ p. 104.

Footnote 234:

Rochefort, ‘Iles Antilles,’ p. 429.

Footnote 235:

Schoolcraft, ‘Indian Tribes,’ part ii. p. 195; M. Eastman, ‘Dahcotah,’

p. 72.

Footnote 236:

Burton, ‘Central Afr.’ vol. ii. p. 344; Schlegel, ‘Ewe-Sprache,’ p.

xxv.

Footnote 237:

Falkner, ‘Patagonia,’ p. 116; but cf. Musters, p. 180.

Footnote 238:

Castrén, ‘Finn. Myth.’ p. 122.

Footnote 239:

Doolittle, ‘Chinese,’ vol. i. p. 206.

Footnote 240:

Bastian, ‘Oestl. Asien,’ vol. ii. pp. 129, 416; vol. iii. pp. 29, 257,

278; ‘Psychologie,’ pp. 77, 99; Cross, ‘Karens,’ l. c. p. 316; Elliot

in ‘Journ. Eth. Soc.’ vol. i. p. 115; Buchanan, ‘Mysore, &c.,’ in

Pinkerton, vol. viii. p. 677.

Footnote 241:

Shortt, ‘Tribes of India,’ in ‘Tr. Eth. Soc.’ vol. vii. p. 192;

Tinling, ‘Tour round India,’ p. 19.

Footnote 242:

Bastian, ‘Psychologie,’ p. 101.

Footnote 243:

Sir J. Shore in ‘Asiatic Res.’ vol. iv. p. 331.

Footnote 244:

For some collections of details of manes-worship, see Meiners,

‘Geschichte der Religionen,’ vol. i. book 3; Bastian, ‘Mensch,’ vol.

ii. pp. 402-11; ‘Psychologie,’ pp. 72-114.

Footnote 245:

J. G. Müller, ‘Amer. Urrel.’ pp. 73, 173, 209, 261; Schoolcraft,

‘Indian Tribes,’ part i. p. 39, part iii. p. 237; Waitz,

‘Anthropologie,’ vol. iii. pp. 191, 204.

Footnote 246:

Backhouse, ‘Australia,’ p. 105; Bonwick, ‘Tasmanians,’ p. 182.

Footnote 247:

Turner, ‘Polynesia,’ p. 88.

Footnote 248:

Mariner, ‘Tonga Is.’ vol. ii. p. 104; S. S. Farmer, p. 126; Shortland,

‘Trads. of N. Z.’ p. 81; Taylor, ‘New Zealand,’ p. 108.

Footnote 249:

J. R. Forster, ‘Observations,’ p. 604; Marsden, ‘Sumatra,’ p. 258;

‘Journ. Ind. Archip.’ vol. ii. p. 234.

Footnote 250:

Ellis, ‘Madagascar,’ vol. i. pp. 123, 423. As to the connexion of the

Vazimbas with the Mazimba of East Africa, see Waitz, vol. ii. pp. 360,

426.

Footnote 251:

Callaway, ‘Religious System of Amazulu,’ part ii.; see also Arbousset

and Daumas, p. 469; Casalis, ‘Basutos,’ pp. 248-54; Waitz,

‘Anthropologie,’ vol. ii. pp. 411, 419; Magyar, ‘Reisen in

Süd-Afrika,’ pp. 21, 335 (Congo); Cavazzi, ‘Congo,’ lib. i.

Footnote 252:

J. L. Wilson, ‘W. Afr.’ pp. 217, 388-93. See Waitz, vol. ii. pp. 181,

194.

Footnote 253:

Bailey in ‘Tr. Eth. Soc.’ vol. ii. p. 301. Compare Taylor, ‘New

Zealand,’ p. 153.

Footnote 254:

Buchanan, ‘Mysore,’ in Pinkerton, vol. viii. pp. 674-7. See

Macpherson, ‘India,’ p. 95 (Khonds); Hunter, ‘Rural Bengal,’ p. 183

(Santals).

Footnote 255:

Castrén, ‘Finn. Myth.’ p. 122; Bastian, ‘Psychologie,’ p. 90. See

Palgrave, ‘Arabia,’ vol. i. p. 373.

Footnote 256:

Siebold, ‘Nippon,’ vol. i. p. 3, vol. ii. p. 51; Kempfer, ‘Japan,’ in

Pinkerton, vol. vii. pp. 672, 680, 723, 755.

Footnote 257:

Bastian, ‘Oestl. Asien,’ vol. iii. p. 250.

Footnote 258:

Plath, ‘Religion der alten Chinesen,’ part i. p. 65, part ii. p. 89;

Doolittle, ‘Chinese,’ vol. i. pp. vi. viii.; vol. ii. p. 373; ‘Journ.

Ind. Archip.’ New Ser. vol. ii. p. 363; Legge, ‘Confucius,’ p. 92.

Footnote 259:

Manu, book iii.

Footnote 260:

Details in Pauly, ‘Real-Encyclop.’ s.v. ‘inferi’; Smith’s ‘Dic. of Gr.

and Rom. Biog. and Myth.’; Meiners, Hartung, &c.

Footnote 261:

Middleton, ‘Letter from Rome’; Murray’s ‘Handbook of Rome.’

Footnote 262:

L. F. Alfred Maury, ‘Magie, &c.,’ p. 249; ‘Acta Sanctorum,’ 27 Sep.;

Gregor. Turon. De Gloria Martyr, i. 98.

Footnote 263:

J. R. Beste, ‘Nowadays at Home and Abroad,’ London, 1870, vol. ii. p.

44; ‘A New Miracle at Rome; being an Account of a Miraculous Cure,

&c., &c.,’ London (Washbourne), 1870.

Footnote 264:

Oldfield in ‘Tr. Eth. Soc.’ vol. iii. p. 235; see Grey, ‘Australia,’

vol. ii. p. 337. Bonwick, ‘Tasmanians,’ pp. 183, 195.

Footnote 265:

‘Journ. Ind. Archip.’ vol. i. p. 307.

Footnote 266:

Bastian, ‘Psychologie,’ p. 204; ‘Mensch,’ vol. ii. p. 73, see p. 125

(Battas); Macpherson, ‘India,’ p. 370. See also Mason, ‘Karens,’ l. c.

p. 201.

Footnote 267:

‘Journ. Ind. Archip.’ vol. iii. p. 110, vol. iv. p. 194; St. John,

‘Far East,’ vol. i. pp. 71, 87; Beeckman in Pinkerton, vol. ix. p.

133; Meiners, vol. i. p. 278. See also Doolittle, ‘Chinese,’ vol. i.

p. 159.

Footnote 268:

Shortland, ‘Trads. of N. Z.’ pp. 97, 114, 125; Taylor, ‘New Zealand,’

pp. 48, 137.

Footnote 269:

Turner, ‘Polynesia,’ p. 236.

Footnote 270:

Ellis, ‘Polyn. Res.’ vol. i. pp. 363, 395, &c., vol. ii. pp. 193, 274;

Cook, ‘3rd Voy.’ vol. iii. p. 131. Details of the superhuman character

ascribed to weak or deranged persons among other races, in

Schoolcraft, part iv. p. 49; Martius, vol. i. p. 633; Meiners, vol. i.

p. 323; Waitz, vol. ii. p. 181.

Footnote 271:

Schoolcraft, ‘Indian Tribes,’ part i. p. 250, part ii. pp. 179, 199,

part iii. p. 498; M. Eastman, ‘Dahcotah,’ pp. xxiii. 34, 41, 72. See

also Gregg, ‘Commerce of Prairies,’ vol. ii. p. 297 (Comanches);

Morgan, ‘Iroquois,’ p. 163; Sproat, p. 174 (Ahts); Egede, ‘Greenland,’

p. 186; Cranz, p. 269.

Footnote 272:

Roman Pane, xix. in ‘Life of Colon’; in Pinkerton, vol. xii. p. 87.

Footnote 273:

D’Orbigny, ‘L’Homme Américain,’ vol. ii. pp. 73, 168; Musters,

‘Patagonians,’ p. 180. See also J. G. Müller, pp. 207, 231 (Caribs);

Spix and Martius, ‘Brasilien,’ vol. i. p. 70; Martius, ‘Ethnog. Amer.’

vol. i. p. 646 (Marcusis).

Footnote 274:

Casalis, ‘Basutos,’ p. 247; Callaway, ‘Rel. of Amazulu,’ p. 147, &c.;

Magyar, ‘Süd-Afrika,’ p. 21, &c.; Burton, ‘Central Afr.’ vol. ii. pp.

320, 354; Steere in ‘Journ. Anthrop. Inst.’ vol. i. 1871, p. cxlvii.

Footnote 275:

Steinhauser, ‘Religion des Negers,’ in ‘Magaz. der Evang. Missions und

Bibel-Gesellschaften,’ Basel, 1856, No. 2, p. 139.

Footnote 276:

J. L. Wilson, ‘W. Afr.’ pp. 217, 388.

Footnote 277:

Hodgson, ‘Abor. of India,’ pp. 163, 170.

Footnote 278:

Backhouse, ‘Australia,’ p. 103.

Footnote 279:

Mason, ‘Burmah,’ p. 107, &c. Cross, l.c. p. 305.

Footnote 280:

Callaway, ‘Religion of Amazulu,’ pp. 183, &c., 259, &c.

Footnote 281:

Falkner, ‘Patagonia,’ p. 116. See also Rochefort, ‘Iles Antilles,’ p.

418 (Caribs).

Footnote 282:

Georgi, ‘Reise im Russ. Reich,’ vol. i. p. 280; Meiners, vol. ii. p.

488.

Footnote 283:

Falkner, l.c.

Footnote 284:

Caldwell, ‘Dravidian Languages,’ App.; Latham, vol. ii. p. 469.

Footnote 285:

Hodgson, ‘Abor. of India,’ p. 172.

Footnote 286:

Steller, ‘Kamtschatka,’ p. 278.

Footnote 287:

Bastian, ‘Oestl. Asien,’ vol. ii. p. 328, see vol. iii. p. 201,

‘Psychologie,’ p. 139. See also Römer, ‘Guinea,’ p. 59.

Footnote 288:

Ellis, ‘Polyn. Res.’ vol. i. pp. 352, 373; Moerenhout, ‘Voyage,’ vol.

i. p. 479; Mariner, ‘Tonga Islands,’ vol. i. p. 105; Williams, ‘Fiji,’

vol. i. p. 373.

Footnote 289:

Dos Santos, ‘Ethiopia,’ in Pinkerton, vol. xvi. p. 686.

Footnote 290:

Römer, ‘Guinea,’ p. 57. See also Steinhauser, l.c. pp. 132, 139; J. B.

Schlegel, ‘Ewe-Sprache,’ p. xvi.

Footnote 291:

Details from Tatar races in Castrén, ‘Finn. Myth.’ pp. 164, 173, &c.;

Bastian, ‘Psychologie,’ p. 90; from Abyssinia in Parkyns, ‘Life in

A.,’ ch. xxxiii.

Footnote 292:

Doolittle, ‘Chinese,’ vol. i. p. 143, vol. ii. pp. 110, 320.

Footnote 293:

Bastian, ‘Oestl. Asien,’ vol. ii. pp. 103, 152, 381, 418, vol. iii. p.

247, &c. See also Bowring, ‘Siam,’ vol. i. p. 139; ‘Journ. Ind.

Archip.’ vol. iv. p. 507, vol. vi. p. 614; Turpin, in Pinkerton, vol.

ix. p. 761; Kempfer, ‘Japan,’ _ibid._ vol. vii. pp. 701, 730, &c.

Footnote 294:

Ward, ‘Hindoos,’ vol. i. p. 155, vol. ii. p. 183; Roberts, ‘Oriental

Illustrations of the Scriptures,’ p. 529; Bastian, ‘Psychologie,’ pp.

164, 184-7. Sanskrit paiçâcha-graha = demon-seizure, possession.

Ancient evidence in Pictet, ‘Origines Indo-Europ.’ part ii. ch. v.

Footnote 295:

Homer. Odyss. v. 396, x. 64; Plat. Phædr. Tim. &c.; Pausan. iv. 27, 2;

Xen. Mem. I. i. 9; Plutarch. Vit. Alex.; De Orac. Def.; Lucian.

Philopseudes; Petron. Arbiter, Sat.; &c., &c.

Footnote 296:

Joseph. Ant. Jud. viii. 2, 5. Eisenmenger, ‘Entdecktes Judenthum,’

part ii. p. 454. See Maury, p. 290.

Footnote 297:

Matth. ix. 32, xi. 18, xii. 22, xvii. 15; Mark, i. 23, ix. 17; Luke,

iv. 33, 39, vii. 33, viii. 27, ix. 39, xiii. 11; John, x. 20; Acts,

xvi. 16, xix. 13; &c.

Footnote 298:

For general evidence see Bingham, ‘Antiquities of Christian Church,’

book iii. ch. iv.; Calmet, ‘Dissertation sur les Esprits’; Maury,

‘Magie,’ &c.; Lecky, ‘Hist. of Rationalism.’ Among particular passages

are Tertull. Apolog. 23; De Spectaculis, 26; Chrysostom. Homil.

xxviii. in Matth. iv.; Cyril. Hierosol. Catech. xvi. 16; Minuc. Fel.

Octavius. xxi.; Concil. Carthag. iv.; &c., &c.

Footnote 299:

Details in Cockayne, ‘Leechdoms, &c., of Early England,’ vol. i. p.

365, vol. ii. p. 137, 355; Sprenger, ‘Malleus Maleficarum,’ part ii.;

Calmet, ‘Dissertation,’ vol. i. ch. xxiv.; Horst, ‘Zauber-Bibliothek’;

Bastian, ‘Mensch,’ vol. ii. p. 557, &c.; ‘Psychologie,’ p. 115, &c.;

Voltaire, ‘Questions sur l’Encyclopédie,’ art., ‘Superstition’;

‘Encyclopædia Britannica,’ 5th ed. art. ‘Possession.’

Footnote 300:

See Maury, ‘Magie,’ &c., part ii. ch. ii.

Footnote 301:

A. Constans, ‘Rel. sur une Epidémie d’Hystéro-Démonopathie, en 1861.’

2nd ed. Paris, 1863. For descriptions of such outbreaks, among the

North American Indians, see Le Jeune in ‘Rel. des Jés. dans la

Nouvelle France,’ 1639; Brinton, p. 275; and in Guinea, see J. L.

Wilson, ‘Western Africa,’ p. 217.

Footnote 302:

Gaume, ‘L’Eau Bénite au Dix-Neuvième Siècle,’ 3rd ed. Paris, 1866, p.

353.

Footnote 303:

West, in ‘Spiritual Telegraph,’ cited by Bastian.

Footnote 304:

(C. de Brosses.) ‘Du culte des dieux fétiches ou Parallèle de

l’ancienne Religion de l’Egypte avec la religion actuelle de

Nigritie.’ 1760. (De Brosses supposed the word _fétiche_ connected

with _chose fée, fatum_.)

Footnote 305:

Grey, ‘Australia,’ vol. ii. p. 337; Eyre, ‘Australia,’ vol. ii. p.

362; Oldfield in ‘Tr. Eth. Soc.’ vol. iii. p. 235, &c.; G. F. Moore,

‘Vocab. of S. W. Austr.’ pp. 18, 98, 103. See Bonwick, ‘Tasmanians,’

p. 195.

Footnote 306:

Rochefort, ‘Iles Antilles,’ pp. 419, 508; J. G. Müller, pp. 173, 207,

217.

Footnote 307:

Ellis, ‘Madagascar,’ vol. i. pp. 221, 232, 422.

Footnote 308:

St. John, ‘Far East,’ vol. i. p. 211, see 72.

Footnote 309:

Callaway, ‘Religion of Amazulu,’ p. 314.

Footnote 310:

Steinhauser, l.c. p. 141. See also Steere, ‘East Afr. Tribes,’ in

‘Journ. Anthrop. Soc.’ vol. i. p. cxlviii.

Footnote 311:

Burton, ‘Central Africa,’ vol. ii. p. 352. See ‘Sindh,’ p. 177.

Footnote 312:

Bastian, ‘Oestl. Asien,’ vol. iii. p. 275.

Footnote 313:

‘Early Hist. of Mankind,’ ch. x. See Bastian, ‘Mensch,’ vol. ii. p.

116, &c.

Footnote 314:

Plin. xxx. 14, 20. Cardan, ‘De Var. Rerum,’ cap. xliii.

Footnote 315:

Ward, ‘Hindoos,’ vol. i. p. 134, vol. ii. p. 247.

Footnote 316:

Doolittle, ‘Chinese,’ vol. i. p. 122.

Footnote 317:

Grimm, ‘D. M.’ pp. 1118-23; Wuttke, ‘Volksaberglaube,’ pp. 155-70;

Brand, ‘Pop. Ant.’ vol. ii. p. 375, vol. iii. p. 286; Halliwell, ‘Pop.

Rhymes,’ p. 208; R. Hunt, ‘Pop. Romances,’ 2nd Series, p. 211;

Hylten-Cavallius, ‘Wärend och Wirdarne,’ vol. i. p. 173. It is said,

however, that rags fastened on trees by Gypsies, which passers-by

avoid with horror as having diseases thus banned into them, are only

signs left for the information of fellow vagrants; Liebich, ‘Die

Zigeuner,’ p. 96.

Footnote 318:

Catlin, ‘N. A. Indians,’ vol. i. p. 90.

Footnote 319:

J. L. Wilson, ‘W. Africa,’ p. 394.

Footnote 320:

Meiners, ‘Gesch. der Rel.’ vol. i. p. 305; J. G. Müller, p. 209.

Footnote 321:

Mason, Karens, l.c. p. 231.

Footnote 322:

Meiners, vol. ii. pp. 721-3.

Footnote 323:

Rochefort, ‘Iles Antilles,’ p. 418. See Martius, ‘Ethnog. Amer.’ vol.

i. p. 485 (Yumanas swallow ashes of deceased with liquor, that he may

live again in them).

Footnote 324:

Hunter, ‘Rural Bengal,’ p. 210. See Bastian, ‘Psychologie,’ p. 73; J.

G. Müller, ‘Amer. Urrel.’ pp. 209, 262, 289, 401, 419.

Footnote 325:

Darwin, ‘Journal,’ p. 458.

Footnote 326:

Bastian, ‘Mensch,’ vol. ii. p. 320.

Footnote 327:

‘Report of Jubbulpore Ethnological Committee,’ Nagpore, 1868, part i.

p. 5.

Footnote 328:

Doolittle, ‘Chinese,’ vol. i. pp. 151, 207, 214, vol. ii. p. 401; see

Plath, ‘Religion der alten Chinesen,’ part i. p. 59, part ii. p. 101.

Footnote 329:

Castrén, ‘Finn. Myth.’ p. 187; Dasent, ‘Norse Tales,’ p. 69; Lane,

‘Thousand and One Nights,’ vol. iii. p. 316; Grimm, ‘D. M.’ p. 1033.

See also Bastian, ‘Psychologie,’ p. 213. Eisenmenger, ‘Judenthum,’

part ii. p. 39.

Footnote 330:

Brand, ‘Pop. Ant.’ vol. iii. p. 72.

Footnote 331:

Herrera, ‘Hist. de las Indias Occidentales,’ Dec. i. ix. 3.

Footnote 332:

Lery, Brésil, p. 249; J. G. Müller, pp. 210, 262.

Footnote 333:

Schoolcraft, ‘Indian Tribes’; Waitz, vol. iii.; Catlin, ‘N. A. Ind.’

vol. i. p. 36; Keating, ‘Narrative,’ vol. i. p. 421; J. G. Müller, p.

74, &c. See Cranz, ‘Grönland,’ p. 274.

Footnote 334:

Castrén, ‘Finn. Myth.’ pp. 162, 221, 230; Meiners, vol. i. p. 170.

Footnote 335:

Bell, in Pinkerton, vol. vii. p. 357.

Footnote 336:

H. Rowley, ‘Universities’ Mission to Central Africa,’ p. 217.

Footnote 337:

Waitz, ‘Anthropologie,’ vol. ii. p. 174; Römer, ‘Guinea,’ p. 56, &c.;

J. L. Wilson, ‘West Africa,’ pp. 135, 211-6, 275, 338; Burton, ‘Wit

and Wisdom from W. Afr.’ pp. 174, 455; Steinhauser, l.c. p. 134;

Bosman, ‘Guinea,’ in Pinkerton, vol. xvi. p. 397; Meiners, ‘Gesch. der

Relig.’ vol. i. p. 173. See also Ellis, ‘Madagascar,’ vol. i. p. 396;

Flacourt, ‘Madag.’ p. 191.

Footnote 338:

Brand, ‘Popular Antiquities,’ vol. iii. p. 255, &c. Bastian,

‘Psychologie,’ p. 171. Wuttke, ‘Deutsche Volksaberglaube,’ pp. 75-95,

225, &c. St. Clair and Brophy, ‘Bulgaria,’ p. 46.

Footnote 339:

Berkeley, ‘Concerning Motion,’ in ‘Works,’ vol. ii. p. 86.

Footnote 340:

Schoolcraft, ‘Indian Tribes,’ part ii. p. 196, part iii. p. 229.

Footnote 341:

Herrera, ‘Indias Occidentales,’ dec. i. iii. 3.

Footnote 342:

De Laet, Novus Orbis, xv. 2.

Footnote 343:

Garcilaso de la Vega, ‘Commentarios Reales,’ i. 9; J. G. Müller, pp.

263, 311, 371, 387; Waitz, vol. iv. p. 454; see below, p. 175.

Footnote 344:

Hahn, ‘Gramm. des Hereró,’ s.v. ‘omu-makisina.’

Footnote 345:

Kaufmann, ‘Central-Afrika,’ (White Nile), p. 131.

Footnote 346:

Waitz, vol. ii. pp. 518, 523.

Footnote 347:

Zollinger in ‘Journ. Ind. Archip.’ vol. ii. p. 692.

Footnote 348:

Ellis, ‘Polyn. Res.’ vol. i. p. 337. See also Ellis, ‘Madagascar,’

vol. i. p. 399.

Footnote 349:

Turner, ‘Polynesia,’ pp. 347, 526.

Footnote 350:

Williams, ‘Fiji,’ vol. i. p. 220; Seemann, ‘Viti,’ pp. 66, 89.

Footnote 351:

Castrén, ‘Finn. Myth.’ p. 193, &c., 204, &c.; ‘Voyages au Nord,’ vol.

viii. pp. 103, 410; Klemm, ‘C. G.’ vol. iii. p. 120. See also Steller,

‘Kamtschatka,’ pp. 265, 276.

Footnote 352:

Hodgson, ‘Abor. of India,’ p. 174. See also Macrae in ‘As. Res.’ vol.

vii. p. 196; Dalton, ‘Kols,’ in ‘Tr. Eth. Soc.’ vol. vi. p. 33.

Footnote 353:

Macpherson, ‘India,’ pp. 103, 358.

Footnote 354:

Bastian, ‘Psychologie,’ p. 177. See also Shortt, ‘Tribes of

Neilgherries,’ in ‘Tr. Eth. Soc.’ vol. vii. p. 281.

Footnote 355:

Elliot in ‘Journ. Eth. Soc.’ vol. i. 1869, p. 115.

Footnote 356:

Buchanan, ‘Mysore,’ in Pinkerton, vol. vii. p. 739.

Footnote 357:

Elliot in ‘Journ. Eth. Soc.’ vol. i. pp. 96, 115, 125. Lubbock,

‘Origin of Civilization,’ p. 222. Forbes Leslie, ‘Early Races of

Scotland,’ vol. ii. p. 462, &c. Prof. Liebrecht, in ‘Ztschr. für

Ethnologie,’ vol. v. p. 100, compares the field-protecting

Priapos-hermes of ancient Italy, daubed with minium.

Footnote 358:

Ward, ‘Hindoos,’ vol. ii. pp. 142, 182, &c., see 221. See also Latham,

‘Descr. Eth.’ vol. ii. p. 239. (Siah-push, stone offered to the

representative of deity.)

Footnote 359:

Grote, ‘Hist. of Greece,’ vol. iv. p. 132; Welcker, ‘Griechische

Götterlehre,’ vol. i. p. 220. Meiners, vol. i. p. 150, &c. Details

esp. in Pausanias; Theophrast. Charact. xvi.; Tacit. Hist. ii. 3;

Arnobius, Adv. Gent.; Tertullianus; Clemens Alexandr.

Footnote 360:

Is. lvii. 6. The first line, ‘behhalkey-nahhal hhêlkech,’ turns on the

pun on hhlk = smooth (stone), and also lot or portion; a double sense

probably connected with the use of smooth pebbles for casting lots.

Footnote 361:

Sprenger, ‘Mohammad,’ vol. ii. p. 7, &c. Burton, ‘El Medinah,’ &c.,

vol. ii. p. 157.

Footnote 362:

Euseb. Præp. Evang. i. 10. Deut. xii. 3; Micah v. 13, &c. Movers,

‘Phönizier,’ vol. i. pp. 105, 569, and see index, ‘Säule,’ &c. See De

Brosses, ‘Dieux Fétiches,’ p. 135 (considers bætyl = beth-el, &c.).

Footnote 363:

For references see Ducange s.v. ‘petra’; Leslie, ‘Early Races of

Scotland,’ vol. i. p. 256.

Footnote 364:

Nilsson, ‘Primitive Inhabitants of Scandinavia,’ p. 241. See also

Meiners, vol. ii. p. 671 (speaking stones in Norway, &c.).

Footnote 365:

Earl of Roden, ‘Progress of Reformation in Ireland,’ London, 1851, p.

51. Sir J. E. Tennent in ‘Notes and Queries,’ Feb. 7, 1852. See

Borlase, ‘Antiquities of Cornwall,’ Oxford, 1754, book iii. ch. 2.

Footnote 366:

‘Early Hist. of Mankind,’ chap. vi.

Footnote 367:

For general collections of evidence, see especially Meiners,

‘Geschichte der Religionen,’ vol. i. books i. and v.; Bastian,

‘Mensch,’ vol. ii.; Waitz, ‘Anthropologie;’ De Brosses, ‘Dieux

Fétiches,’ &c. Particular details in J. L. Wilson, ‘W. Afr.’ p. 393;

Ellis, ‘Madagascar,’ vol. i. p. 395; Castrén, ‘Finnische Mythologie,’

p. 193, &c.; Ward, ‘Hindoos,’ vol. ii.; Köppen, ‘Rel. des Buddha,’

vol. i. p. 493, &c.; Grote, ‘Hist, of Greece.’

Footnote 368:

J. G. Müller, ‘Amer. Urrelig.’ p. 263; Meiners, vol. i. p. 163.

Footnote 369:

Loskiel, ‘Ind. of N. A.’ vol. i. p. 39; Smith, ‘Virginia,’ in

Pinkerton, vol. xiii. p. 14; Waitz, vol. iii. p. 203; J. G. Müller,

pp. 95-8, 128.

Footnote 370:

Fernando Colombo, ‘Vita del Amm. Cristoforo Colombo,’ Venice, 1571, p.

127, &c.; and ‘Life of Colon,’ in Pinkerton, vol. xii. p. 84. Herrera,

dec. i. iii. 3. Rochefort, ‘Iles Antilles,’ pp. 421-4. Waitz, vol.

iii. p. 384; J. G. Müller, pp. 171-6, 182, 210, 232.

Footnote 371:

Prescott, ‘Peru,’ vol. i. pp. 71, 89; Waitz, vol. iv. p. 458; J. G.

Müller, pp. 322, 371.

Footnote 372:

Brasseur, ‘Mexique,’ vol. iii. p. 486; Waitz, vol. iv. p. 148; J. G.

Müller, p. 642.

Footnote 373:

Shortland, ‘Trads. of N. Z.’ &c., p. 83; Taylor, pp. 171, 183, 212.

Footnote 374:

J. R. Forster, ‘Obs. during Voyage,’ London, 1778, p. 534, &c.; Ellis,

‘Polyn. Res.’ vol. i. p. 281, &c., 323, &c. See also Earl, ‘Papuans,’

p. 84; Bastian, ‘Psychologie,’ p. 78 (Nias).

Footnote 375:

St. John, ‘Far East,’ vol. i. p. 198.

Footnote 376:

Hutchinson in ‘Tr. Eth. Soc.’ vol. i. p. 336; see Bastian,

‘Psychologie,’ p. 172.

Footnote 377:

Steinhauser, in ‘Magaz. der Evang. Missionen,’ Basel, 1856, No. 2, p.

131.

Footnote 378:

Schlegel, ‘Ewe-Sprache,’ p. xvi.

Footnote 379:

Waitz, ‘Anthropologie,’ vol. ii. p. 183; Denham, ‘Travels,’ vol. i. p.

113; Römer, ‘Guinea’; Bosman, ‘Guinea,’ in Pinkerton, vol. xvi. See

also Livingstone, ‘S. Afr.’ p. 282 (Balonda).

Footnote 380:

Castrén, ‘Finn. Myth.’ p. 193, &c.; Bastian, ‘Psych.’ p. 34, 208,

‘Oestl. Asien,’ vol. iii. pp. 293, 486. See ‘Journ. Ind. Archip.’ vol.

ii. p. 350 (Chinese).

Footnote 381:

Max Müller, ‘Chips,’ vol. i. p. xvii.; Ward, ‘Hindoos,’ vol. i. p.

198, vol. ii. pp. xxxv, 164, 234, 292, 485.

Footnote 382:

Arnobius, Adversus Gentes, vi. 17-19.

Footnote 383:

Augustinus ‘De Civ. Dei,’ viii. 23: ‘at ille visibilia et

contrectabilia simulacra, velut corpora deorum esse asserit; inesse

autem his quosdam spiritus invitatos, &c.... Hos ergo spiritus

invisibiles per artem quandam visibilibus rebus corporalis materiæ

copulare, ut sint quasi animata corpora, illis spiritibus dicata et

subdita simulacra, &c.’ See also Tertullianus De Spectaculis, xii.:

‘In mortuorum autem idolis dæmonia consistunt, &c.’

Footnote 384:

Marcus Minucius Felix, Octavius, cap. xxvii.: ‘Isti igitur impuri

spiritus, dæmones, ut ostensum a magis, a philosophis, et a Platone

sub statuis et imaginibus consecrati delitescunt, &c.’

Footnote 385:

Bastian, ‘Oestl. Asien,’ vol. ii. p. 455. See Spiegel, ‘Avesta,’ vol.

ii. p. 54.

Footnote 386:

Porphyr. de Vita Pythagoræ. Oken, ‘Lehrbuch der Naturphilosophie,’

2753.

Footnote 387:

Suidas, s.v. ἐγγαστρίμυθος; Isidor. Gloss. s.v. ‘præcantatores’;

Bastian, ‘Mensch,’ vol. ii. p. 578. Maury, ‘Magie,’ &c. p. 269.

Doolittle, ‘Chinese,’ vol. ii. p. 115.

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