RITES AND CEREMONIES.
Religious Rites: their purpose practical or symbolic—Prayer: its
continuity from low to high levels of Culture; its lower phases
Unethical; its higher phases Ethical—Sacrifice: its
original Gift-theory passes into the Homage-theory and the
Abnegation-theory—Manner of reception of Sacrifice by Deity—Material
Transfer to elements, fetish-animals, priests; consumption of
substance by deity or idol; offering of blood; transmission by fire;
incense—Essential Transfer: consumption of essence, savour,
&c.—Spiritual Transfer: consumption or transmission of soul of
offering—Motive of Sacrificer—Transition from Gift-theory to
Homage-theory: insignificant and formal offerings; sacrificial
banquets—Abnegation-theory; sacrifice of children, &c.—Sacrifice of
Substitutes: part given for whole; inferior life for superior;
effigies—Modern survival of Sacrifice in folklore and
religion—Fasting, as a means of producing ecstatic vision; its
course from lower to higher Culture—Drugs used to produce
ecstasy—Swoons and fits induced for religious purposes—Orientation:
its relation to Sun-myth and Sun-worship; rules of East and West as
to burial of dead, position of worship, and structure of
temple—Lustration by Water and Fire: its transition from material to
symbolic purification; its connexion with special events of life;
its appearance among the lower races—Lustration of new-born
children; of women; of those polluted by bloodshed or the
dead—Lustration continued at higher levels of Culture—Conclusion.
Religious rites fall theoretically into two divisions, though these
blend in practice. In part, they are expressive and symbolic
performances, the dramatic utterance of religious thought, the
gesture-language of theology. In part, they are means of intercourse
with and influence on spiritual beings, and as such, their intention is
as directly practical as any chemical or mechanical process, for
doctrine and worship correlate as theory and practice. In the science of
religion, the study of ceremony has its strong and weak sides. On the
one hand, it is generally easier to obtain accurate accounts of
ceremonies by eye-witnesses, than anything like trustworthy and
intelligible statements of doctrine; so that very much of our knowledge
of religion in the savage and barbaric world consists in acquaintance
with its ceremonies. It is also true that some religious ceremonies are
marvels of permanence, holding substantially the same form and meaning
through age after age, and far beyond the range of historic record. On
the other hand, the signification of ceremonies is not to be rashly
decided on by mere inspection. In the long and varied course in which
religion has adapted itself to new intellectual and moral conditions,
one of the most marked processes has affected time-honoured religious
customs, whose form has been faithfully and even servilely kept up,
while their nature has often undergone transformation. In the religions
of the great nations, the natural difficulty of following these changes
has been added to by the sacerdotal tendency to ignore and obliterate
traces of the inevitable change of religion from age to age, and to
convert into mysteries ancient rites whose real barbaric meaning is too
far out of harmony with the spirit of a later time. The embarrassments,
however, which beset the enquirer into the ceremonies of a single
religion, diminish in a larger comparative study. The ethnographer who
brings together examples of a ceremony from different stages of culture
can often give a more rational account of it, than the priest, to whom a
special signification, sometimes very unlike the original one, has
become matter of orthodoxy. As a contribution to the theory of religion,
with especial view to its lower phases as explanatory of the higher, I
have here selected for ethnographic discussion a group of sacred rites,
each in its way full of instruction, different as these ways are. All
have early place and rudimentary meaning in savage culture, all belong
to barbaric ages, all have their representatives within the limits of
modern Christendom. They are the rites of Prayer, Sacrifice, Fasting and
other methods of Artificial Ecstasy, Orientation, Lustration.
Prayer, ‘the soul’s sincere desire, uttered or unexpressed,’ is the
address of personal spirit to personal spirit. So far as it is actually
addressed to disembodied or deified human souls, it is simply an
extension of the daily intercourse between man and man; while the
worshipper who looks up to other divine beings, spiritual after the
nature of his own spirit, though of place and power in the universe far
beyond his own, still has his mind in a state where prayer is a
reasonable and practical act. So simple and familiar indeed is the
nature of prayer, that its study does not demand that detail of fact and
argument which must be given to rites in comparison practically
insignificant. It has not indeed been placed everywhere on record as the
necessary outcome of animistic belief, for especially at low levels of
civilization there are many races who distinctly admit the existence of
spirits, but are not positively known to pray to them. Beyond this lower
level, however, animism and ceremonial prayer become nearly
conterminous; and a view of their relation in their earlier stages may
be best gained from a selection of actual prayers taken down word for
word, within the limits of savage and barbaric life. These agree with an
opinion that prayer appeared in the religion of the lower culture, but
that in this its earlier stage it was unethical. The accomplishment of
desire is asked for, but desire is as yet limited to personal advantage.
It is at later and higher moral levels, that the worshipper begins to
add to his entreaty for prosperity the claim for help toward virtue and
against vice, and prayer becomes an instrument of morality.
In the Papuan Island of Tanna, where the gods are the spirits of
departed ancestors, and preside over the growth of fruits, a prayer
after the offering of first-fruits is spoken aloud by the chief who acts
as high priest to the silent assembly: ‘Compassionate father! Here is
some food for you; eat it; be kind to us on account of it!’ Then all
shout together.[844] In the Samoan Islands, when the libation of ava was
poured out at the evening meal, the head of the family prayed thus:—
‘Here is ava for you, O gods! Look kindly towards this family: let
it prosper and increase; and let us all be kept in health. Let our
plantations be productive; let food grow; and may there be abundance
of food for us, your creatures. Here is ava for you, our war gods!
Let there be a strong and numerous people for you in this land.
‘Here is ava for you, O sailing gods (gods who come in Tongan canoes
and foreign vessels). Do not come on shore at this place; but be
pleased to depart along the ocean to some other land.’[845]
Among the Indians of North America, more or less under European
influence, the Sioux will say, ‘Spirits of the dead, have mercy on me!’
then they will add what they want, if good weather they say so, if good
luck in hunting, they say so.[846] Among the Osages, prayers used not
long since to be offered at daybreak to Wohkonda, the Master of Life.
The devotee retired a little from the camp or company, and with affected
or real weeping, in loud uncouth voice of plaintive piteous tone, howled
such prayers as these:— ‘Wohkonda, pity me, I am very poor; give me what
I need; give me success against mine enemies, that I may avenge the
death of my friends. May I be able to take scalps, to take horses! &c.’
Such prayers might or might not have allusion to some deceased relative
or friend.[847] How an Algonquin Indian undertakes a dangerous voyage,
we may judge from John Tanner’s account of a fleet of frail Indian bark
canoes setting out at dawn one calm morning on Lake Superior. We had
proceeded, he writes, about two hundred yards into the lake, when the
canoes all stopped together, and the chief, in a very loud voice,
addressed a prayer to the Great Spirit, entreating him to give us a good
look to cross the lake. ‘You,’ said he, ‘have made this lake, and you
have made us, your children; you can now cause that the water shall
remain smooth while we pass over in safety.’ In this manner he continued
praying for five or ten minutes; he then threw into the lake a small
quantity of tobacco, in which each of the canoes followed his
example.[848] A Nootka Indian, preparing for war, prayed thus: ‘Great
Quahootze, let me live, not be sick, find the enemy, not fear him, find
him asleep, and kill a great many of him.’[849] There is more pathos in
these lines from the war-song of a Delaware:—
‘O Great Spirit there above
Have pity on my children
And my wife!
Prevent that they shall mourn for me!
Let me succeed in this undertaking,
That I may slay my enemy
And bring home the tokens of victory
To my dear family and my friends
That we may rejoice together....
Have pity on me and protect my life,
And I will bring thee an offering.’[850]
The following two prayers are among those recorded by Molina, from the
memory of aged men who described to him the religion of Peru under the
Incas, in whose rites they had themselves borne part. The first is
addressed to the Sun, the second to the World-creator:—
‘O Sun! Thou who hast said, let there be Cuzcos and Tampus, grant
that these thy children may conquer all other people. We beseech
thee that thy children the Yncas may be the conquerors always, for
this hast thou created them.’
‘O conquering Uiracocha! Ever present Uiracocha! Thou who art in the
ends of the earth without equal! Thou who gavest life and valour to
men, saying “Let this be a man!” and to women, saying, “Let this be
a woman!” Thou who madest them and gavest them being! Watch over
them that they may live in health and peace. Thou who art in the
high heavens, and among the clouds of the tempest, grant this with
long life, and accept this sacrifice, O Uiracocha!’[851]
In Africa, the Zulus, addressing the spirits of their ancestors, think
it even enough to call upon them without saying what they want, taking
it for granted that the spirits know, so that the mere utterance ‘People
of our house!’ is a prayer. When a Zulu sneezes, and is thus for the
moment in close relation to the divine spirits, it is enough for him to
mention what he wants (‘to wish a wish,’ as our own folklore has it),
and thus the words ‘A cow!’ ‘Children!’ are prayers. Fuller forms are
such as these: ‘People of our house! Cattle!’—‘People of our house! Good
luck and health!’—‘People of our house! Children!’ On occasions of
ancestral cattle-sacrifice the prayers extend to actual harangues, as
when, after the feast is over, the headman speaks thus amid dead
silence: ‘Yes, yes, our people, who did such and such noble acts, I pray
to you—I pray for prosperity after having sacrificed this bullock of
yours. I say, I cannot refuse to give you food, for these cattle which
are here you gave me. And if you ask food of me which you have given me,
is it not proper that I should give it to you? I pray for cattle, that
they may fill this pen. I pray for corn, that many people may come to
this village of yours, and make a noise, and glorify you. I ask also for
children, that this village may have a large population, and that your
name may never come to an end.’ So he finishes.[852] From among the
negro races near the equator, the following prayers may be cited,
addressed to that Supreme Deity whose nature is, as we have seen, more
or less that of the Heaven-god. The Gold Coast negro would raise his
eyes to Heaven and thus address him: ‘God, give me to-day rice and yams,
gold and agries, give me slaves, riches, and health, and that I may be
brisk and swift!’ The fetish-man will often in the morning take water in
his mouth and say, ‘Heaven! grant that I may have something to eat
to-day;’ and when giving medicine shown him by the fetish, he will hold
it up to heaven first, and say, ‘Ata Nyongmo! (Father Heaven!) bless
this medicine that I now give.’ The Yebu would say, ‘God in heaven,
protect me from sickness and death. God give me happiness and
wisdom!’[853] When the Manganja of Lake Nyassa were offering to the
Supreme Deity a basketful of meal and a pot of native beer, that he
might give them rain, the priestess dropped the meal handful by handful
on the ground, each time calling, in a high-pitched voice, ‘Hear thou, O
God, and send rain!’ and the assembled people responded, clapping their
hands softly and intoning (they always intone their prayers) ‘Hear thou,
O God!’[854]
Typical forms of prayer may be selected in Asia near the junction-line
of savage and barbaric culture. Among the Karens of Burma, the
Harvest-goddess has offerings made to her in a little house in the
paddy-field, in which two strings are put for her to bind the spirits of
any persons who may enter her field. Then they entreat her on this wise:
‘Grandmother, thou guardest my field, thou watchest over my plantation.
Look out for men entering; look sharp for people coming in. If they
come, bind them with this string, tie them with this rope, do not let
them go!’ And at the threshing of the rice they say: ‘Shake thyself,
Grandmother, shake thyself! Let the paddy ascend till it equals a hill,
equals a mountain. Shake thyself, Grandmother, shake thyself!’[855] The
following are extracts from the long-drawn prayers of the Khonds of
Orissa: ‘O Boora Pennu! and O Tari Pennu, and all other gods! (naming
them). You, O Boora Pennu! created us, giving us the attribute of
hunger; thence corn food was necessary to us, and thence were necessary
producing fields. You gave us every seed, and ordered us to use
bullocks, and to make ploughs, and to plough. Had we not received this
art, we might still indeed have existed upon the natural fruits of the
jungle and the plain, but, in our destitution, we could not have
performed your worship. Do you, remembering this—the connexion betwixt
our wealth and your honour—grant the prayers which we now offer. In the
morning, we rise before the light to our labour, carrying the seed. Save
us from the tiger, and the snake, and from stumblingblocks. Let the seed
appear earth to the eating birds, and stones to the eating animals of
the earth. Let the grain spring up suddenly like a dry stream that is
swelled in a night. Let the earth yield to our ploughshares as wax melts
before hot iron. Let the baked clods melt like hailstones. Let our
ploughs spring through the furrows with a force like the recoil of a
bent tree. Let there be such a return from our seed, that so much shall
fall and be neglected in the fields, and so much on the roads in
carrying it home, that, when we shall go out next year to sow, the paths
and the fields shall look like a young corn-field. From the first times
we have lived by your favour. Let us continue to receive it. Remember
that the increase of our produce is the increase of your worship, and
that its diminution must be the diminution of your rites.’ The following
is the conclusion of a prayer to the Earth-goddess: ‘Let our herds be so
numerous that they cannot be housed; let children so abound that the
care of them shall overcome their parents—as shall be seen by their
burned hands; let our heads ever strike against brass pots innumerable
hanging from our roofs; let the rats form their nests of shreds of
scarlet cloth and silk; let all the kites in the country be seen in the
trees of our village, from beasts being killed there every day. We are
ignorant of what it is good to ask for. You know what is good for us.
Give it to us!’[856]
Such are types of prayer in the lower levels of culture, and in no small
degree they remain characteristic of the higher nations. If, in
long-past ages, the Chinese raised themselves from the condition of rude
Siberian tribes to their peculiar culture, at any rate their consecutive
religion has scarce changed the matter-of-fact prayers for rain and good
harvest, wealth and long life, addressed to manes and nature-spirits and
merciful Heaven.[857] In other great national religions of the world,
not the whole of prayer, but a smaller or larger part of it, holds
closely to the savage definition. This is a Vedic prayer: ‘What, Indra,
has not yet been given me by thee, Lightning-hurler, all good things
bring us hither with both hands ... with mighty riches fill me, with
wealth of cattle, for thou art great!’[858] This is Moslem: ‘O Allah!
unloose the captivity of the captives, and annul the debts of the
debtors: and make this town to be safe and secure, and blessed with
wealth and plenty, and all the towns of the Moslems, O Lord of all
creatures! and decree safety and health to us and to all travellers, and
pilgrims, and warriors, and wanderers, upon thy earth, and upon thy sea,
such as are Moslems, O Lord of all creatures!’[859] Thus also,
throughout the rituals of Christendom, stand an endless array of
supplications unaltered in principle from savage times—that the weather
may be adjusted to our local needs, that we may have the victory over
all our enemies, that life and health and wealth and happiness may be
ours.
So far, then, is permanence in culture: but now let us glance at the
not less marked lines of modification and new formation. The vast
political effect of a common faith in developing the idea of exclusive
nationality, a process scarcely expanding beyond the germ among savage
tribes, but reaching its full growth in the barbaric world, is apt to
have its outward manifestation in hostility to those of another creed,
a sentiment which finds vent in characteristic prayers. Such are these
from the Rig-Veda: ‘Take away our calamities. By sacred verses may we
overcome those who employ no holy hymns! Distinguish between the Aryas
and those who are Dasyus: chastising those who observe no sacred
rites, subject them to the sacrificer.... Indra subjects the impious
to the pious, and destroys the irreligious by the religious.’[860] The
following is from the closing prayer which the boys in many schools in
Cairo used to repeat some years ago, and very likely do still: ‘I seek
refuge with Allah from Satan the accursed. In the name of Allah, the
Compassionate, the Merciful ... O Lord of all creatures! O Allah!
destroy the infidels and polytheists, thine enemies, the enemies of
the religion! O Allah! make their children orphans, and defile their
abodes, and cause their feet to slip, and give them and their families
and their households and their women and their children and their
relations by marriage and their brothers and their friends and their
possessions and their race and their wealth and their lands as booty
to the Moslems! O Lord of all creatures!’[861] Another powerful
tendency of civilization, that of regulating human affairs by fixed
ordinance, has since early ages been at work to arrange worship into
mechanical routine. Here, so to speak, religion deposits itself in
sharply defined shape from a supersaturated solution, and crystallizes
into formalism. Thus prayers, from being at first utterances as free
and flexible as requests to a living patriarch or chief, stiffened
into traditional formulas, whose repetition required verbal accuracy,
and whose nature practically assimilated more or less to that of
charms. Liturgies, especially in those three quarters of the world
where the ancient liturgical language has become at once
unintelligible and sacred, are crowded with examples of this
historical process. Its extremest development in Europe is connected
with the use of the rosary. This devotional calculating-machine is of
Asiatic invention; it had if not its origin at least its special
development among the ancient Buddhists, and its 108 balls still slide
through the modern Buddhist’s hands as of old, measuring out the
sacred formulas whose reiteration occupies so large a fraction of a
pious life. It was not till toward the middle ages that the rosary
passed into Mohammedan and Christian lands, and finding there
conceptions of prayer which it was suited to accompany, has flourished
ever since. How far the Buddhist devotional formulas themselves
partake of the nature of prayer, is a question opening into
instructive considerations, which need only be suggested here. By its
derivation from Brahmanism and its fusion with the beliefs of rude
spirit-worshipping populations, Buddhism practically retains in no
small measure a prayerful temper and even practice. Yet, according to
strict and special Buddhist philosophy, where personal divinity has
faded into metaphysical idea, even devotional utterances of desire are
not prayers; as Köppen says, there is no ‘Thou!’ in them. It must be
only with reservation that we class the rosary in Buddhist hands as an
instrument of actual prayer. The same is true of the still more
extreme development of mechanical religion, the prayer-mill of the
Tibetan Buddhists. This was perhaps originally a symbolic ‘chakra’ or
wheel of the law, but has become a cylinder mounted on an axis, which
by each rotation is considered to repeat the sentences written on the
papers it is filled with, usually the ‘Om mani padme hûm!’
Prayer-mills vary in size, from the little wooden toys held in the
hand, to the great drums turned by wind or water-power, which repeat
their sentences by the million.[862] The Buddhist idea, that ‘merit’
is produced by the recitation of these sentences, may perhaps lead us
to form an opinion of large application in the study of religion and
superstition, namely, that the theory of prayers may explain the
origin of charms. Charm-formulas are in very many cases actual
prayers, and as such are intelligible. Where they are mere verbal
forms, producing their effect on nature and man by some unexplained
process, may not they or the types they were modelled on have been
originally prayers, since dwindled into mystic sentences?
The worshipper cannot always ask wisely what is for his good, therefore
it may be well for him to pray that the greater power of the deity may
be guided by his greater wisdom—this is a thought which expands and
strengthens in the theology of the higher nations. The simple prayer of
Sokrates, that the gods would give such things as are good, for they
know best what are good,[863] raises a strain of supplication which has
echoed through Christendom from its earliest ages. Greatest of all
changes which difference the prayers of lower from those of higher
nations, is the working out of the general principle that the ethical
element, so scanty and rudimentary in the lower forms of religion,
becomes in the higher its most vital point; while it scarcely appears as
though any savage prayer, authentically native in its origin, were ever
directed to obtain moral goodness or to ask pardon for moral sin. Among
the semi-civilized Aztecs, in the elaborate ritual which from its early
record and its original characteristics may be thought to have a partial
authenticity, we mark the appearance of ethical prayer. Such is the
supplication concerning the newly-elect ruler: ‘Make him, Lord, as your
true image, and permit him not to be proud and haughty in your throne
and court; but vouchsafe, Lord, that he may calmly and carefully rule
and govern them whom he has in charge, the people, and permit not, Lord,
that he may injure or vex his subjects, nor without reason and justice
cause loss to any; and permit not, Lord, that he may spot or soil your
throne or court with any injustice or wrong, &c.’[864] Moral prayer,
sometimes appearing in rudiment, sometimes shrunk into insignificance,
sometimes overlaid by formalism, sometimes maintained firm and vigorous
in the inmost life, has its place without as well as within the
Jewish-Christian scheme. The ancient Aryan prayed: ‘Through want of
strength, thou strong and bright god, have I gone wrong; have mercy,
almighty, have mercy!... Whenever we men, O Varuna, commit an offence
before the heavenly host, whenever we break the law through
thoughtlessness, have mercy, almighty, have mercy!’[865] The modern
Parsi prays: ‘Of my sins which I have committed against the ruler
Ormazd, against men, and the different kinds of men.... Deceit,
contempt, idol-worship, lies, I repent of.... All and every kind of sin
which men have committed because of me, or which I have committed
because of men; pardon, I repent with confession!’[866] As a general
rule it would be misleading to judge utterances of this kind in the
religions of classic Greece and Rome as betokening the intense habitual
prayerfulness which pervades the records of Judaism, Mohammedanism,
Christianity. Moralists admit that prayer can be made an instrument of
evil, that it may give comfort and hope to the superstitious robber,
that it may strengthen the heart of the soldier to slay his foes in an
unrighteous war, that it may uphold the tyrant and the bigot in their
persecution of freedom in life and thought. Philosophers dwell on the
subjective operation of prayer, as acting not directly on outward
events, but on the mind and will of the worshipper himself, which it
influences and confirms. The one argument tends to guide prayer, the
other to suppress it. Looking on prayer in its effect on man himself
through the course of history, both must recognize it as even in savage
religion a means of strengthening emotion, of sustaining courage and
exciting hope, while in higher faiths it becomes a great motive power of
the ethical system, controlling and enforcing, under an ever-present
sense of supernatural intercourse and aid, the emotions and energies of
moral life.
Sacrifice has its apparent origin in the same early period of culture
and its place in the same animistic scheme as prayer, with which through
so long a range of history it has been carried on in the closest
connexion. As prayer is a request made to a deity as if he were a man,
so sacrifice is a gift made to a deity as if he were a man. The human
types of both may be studied unchanged in social life to this day. The
suppliant who bows before his chief, laying a gift at his feet and
making his humble petition, displays the anthropomorphic model and
origin at once of sacrifice and prayer. But sacrifice, though in its
early stages as intelligible as prayer is in early and late stages
alike, has passed in the course of religious history into transformed
conditions, not only of the rite itself but of the intention with which
the worshipper performs it. And theologians, having particularly turned
their attention to sacrifice as it appears in the higher religions, have
been apt to gloss over with mysticism ceremonies which, when traced
ethnographically up from their savage forms, seem open to simply
rational interpretation. Many details of offerings have already been
given incidentally here, as a means of elucidating the nature of the
deities they are offered to. Moreover, a main part of the doctrine of
sacrifice has been anticipated in examining the offerings to spirits of
the dead, and indeed the ideal distinction between soul and deity breaks
down among the lower races, when it appears how often the deities
receiving sacrifice are themselves divine human souls. In now attempting
to classify sacrifice in its course through the religions of the world,
it seems a satisfactory plan to group the evidence as far as may be
according to the manner in which the offering is given by the
worshipper, and received by the deity. At the same time, the examples
may be so arranged as to bring into view the principal lines along which
the rite has undergone alteration. The ruder conception that the deity
takes and values the offering for itself, gives place on the one hand to
the idea of mere homage expressed by a gift, and on the other to the
negative view that the virtue lies in the worshipper depriving himself
of something prized. These ideas may be broadly distinguished as the
gift-theory, the homage-theory, and the abnegation-theory. Along all
three the usual ritualistic change may be traced, from practical reality
to formal ceremony. The originally valuable offering is compromised for
a smaller tribute or a cheaper substitute, dwindling at last to a mere
trifling token or symbol.
The gift-theory, as standing on its own independent basis, properly
takes the first place. That most childlike kind of offering, the giving
of a gift with as yet no definite thought how the receiver can take and
use it, may be the most primitive as it is the most rudimentary
sacrifice. Moreover, in tracing the history of the ceremony from level
to level of culture, the same simple unshaped intention may still
largely prevail, and much of the reason why it is often found difficult
to ascertain what savages and barbarians suppose to become of the food
and valuables they offer to the gods, may be simply due to ancient
sacrificers knowing as little about it as modern ethnologists do, and
caring less. Yet rude races begin and civilized races continue to
furnish with the details of their sacrificial ceremonies the key also to
their meaning, the explanation of the manner in which the offering is
supposed to pass into the possession of the deity.
Beginning with cases in which this transmission is performed bodily, it
appears that when the deity is the personal Water, Earth, Fire, Air, or
a fetish-spirit animating or inhabiting such element, he can receive and
sometimes actually consume the offerings given over to this material
medium. How such notions may take shape is not ill shown in the quaintly
rational thought noticed in old Peru, that the Sun drinks the libations
poured out before him; and in modern Madagascar, that the Angatra drinks
the arrack left for him in the leaf-cup. Do not they see the liquids
diminish from day to day?[867] The sacrifice to Water is exemplified by
Indians caught in a storm on the North American lakes, who would appease
the angry tempest-raising deity by tying the feet of a dog and throwing
it overboard.[868] The following case from Guinea well shows the
principle of such offerings. Once in 1693, the sea being unusually
rough, the headmen complained to the king, who desired them to be easy,
and he would make the sea quiet next day. Accordingly he sent his
fetishman with a jar of palm oil, a bag of rice and corn, a jar of
pitto, a bottle of brandy, a piece of painted calico, and several other
things to present to the sea. Being come to the sea-side, he made a
speech to it, assuring it that his king was its friend, and loved the
white men; that they were honest fellows and came to trade with him for
what he wanted; and that he requested the sea not to be angry, nor
hinder them to land their goods; he told it, that if it wanted palm oil,
his king had sent it some; and so threw the jar with the oil into the
sea, as he did, with the same compliment, the rice, corn, pitto, brandy,
calico, &c.[869] Among the North American Indians the Earth also
receives offerings buried in it. The distinctness of idea with which
such objects may be given is well shown in a Sioux legend. The Spirit of
the earth, it seems, requires an offering from those who perform
extraordinary achievements, and accordingly the prairie gapes open with
an earthquake before the victorious hero of the tale; he casts a
partridge into the crevice, and springs over.[870] One of the most
explicit recorded instances of the offering to the Earth is the hideous
sacrifice to the Earth-goddess among the Khonds of Orissa, the tearing
of the flesh of the human victim from the bones, the priest burying half
of it in a hole in the earth behind his back without looking round, and
each householder carrying off a particle to bury in like manner in his
favourite field.[871] For offerings to the Fire, we may take for an
example the Yakuts, who not only give him the first spoonful of food,
but instead of washing their earthen pots allow him to clean out the
remains.[872] Here is a New Zealand charm called Wangaihau, i.e.,
feeding the Wind:—
‘Lift up his offering,
To Uenga a te Rangi his offering,
Eat, O invisible one, listen to me,
Let that food bring you down from the sky.’[873]
Beside this may be set the quaint description of the Fanti negroes
assisting at the sacrifice of men and cattle to the local fetish; the
victims were considered to be carried up in a whirlwind out of the midst
of the small inner ring of priests and priestesses; this whirlwind was,
however, not perceptible to the senses of the surrounding
worshippers.[874] These series of details collected from the lower
civilization throw light on curious problems as to sacrificial ideas in
the religions of the classic world; such questions as what Xerxes meant
when he threw the golden goblet and the sword into the Hellespont, which
he had before chained and scourged; why Hannibal cast animals into the
sea as victims to Poseidon; what religious significance underlay the
patriotic Roman legend of the leap of Marcus Curtius.[875]
Sacred animals, in their various characters of divine beings,
incarnations, representatives, agents, symbols, naturally receive meat
and drink offerings, and sometimes other gifts. For examples, may be
mentioned the sun-birds (tonatzuli), for which the Apalaches of
Florida set out crushed maize and seed;[876] the Polynesian deities
coming incarnate in the bodies of birds to feed on the meat-offerings
and carcases of human victims set out upon the altar-scaffolds;[877]
the well-fed sacred snakes of West Africa, and local fetish animals
like the alligator at Dix Cove which will come up at a whistle, and
follow a man half a mile if he carries a white fowl in his hands, or
the shark at Bonny that comes to the river bank every day to see if a
human victim has been provided for his repast;[878] in modern India
the cows reverently fed with fresh grass, Durga’s meat-offerings laid
out on stones for the jackals, the famous alligators in their
temple-tanks.[879] The definition of sacred animal from this point of
view distinctly includes man. Such in Mexico was the captive youth
adored as living representative of Tezcatlipoca, and to whom banquets
were made during the luxurious twelvemonth which preceded his
sacrifice at the festival of the deity whom he personated: such still
more definitely was Cortes himself, when Montezuma supposed him to be
the incarnate Quetzalcoatl come back into the land, and sent human
victims accordingly to be slaughtered before him, should he seem to
lust for blood.[880] Such in modern India is the woman who as
representative of Radha eats and drinks the offerings at the shameless
orgies of the Saktas.[881] More usually it is the priest who as
minister of the deities has the lion’s share of the offerings or the
sole privilege of consuming them, from the Fijian priest who watches
for the turtle and puddings apportioned to his god,[882] and the West
African priest who carries the allowances of food sent to the local
spirits of mountain, or river, or grove, which food he eats himself as
the spirit’s proxy,[883] to the Brahmans who receive for the divine
ancestors the oblation of a worshipper who has no sacred fire to
consume it, ‘for there is no difference between the Fire and a
Brahman, such is the judgment declared by them who know the
Veda.’[884] It is needless to collect details of a practice so usual
in the great systematic religions of the world, where priests have
become professional ministers and agents of deity, as for them to
partake of the sacrificial meats. It by no means follows from this
usage that the priest is necessarily supposed to consume the food as
representative of his divinity; in the absence of express statement to
such effect, the matter can only be treated as one of ceremonial
ordinance. Indeed, the case shows the caution needed in interpreting
religious rites, which in particular districts may have meanings
attached to them quite foreign to their general intent.
The feeding of an idol, as when Ostyaks would pour daily broth into the
dish at the image’s mouth,[885] or when the Aztecs would pour the blood
and put the heart of the slaughtered human victim into the monstrous
idol’s mouth,[886] seems ceremonial make-believe, but shows that in each
case the deity was somehow considered to devour the meal. The conception
among the lower races of deity, as in disembodied spiritual form, is
even less compatible with the notion that such a being should consume
solid matter. It is true that the notion does occur. In old times it
appears in the legend of Bel and the Dragon, where the footprints in the
strewn ashes betray the knavish priests who come by secret doors to eat
up the banquet set before Bel’s image.[887] In modern centuries, it may
be exemplified by the negroes of Labode, who could hear the noise of
their god Jimawong emptying one after another the bottles of brandy
handed in at the door of his straw-roofed temple;[888] or among the
Ostyaks, who, as Pallas relates, used to leave a horn of snuff for their
god, with a shaving of willow bark to stop his nostrils with after the
country fashion; the traveller describes their astonishment when
sometimes an unbelieving Russian has emptied it in the night, leaving
the simple folk to conclude that the deity must have gone out hunting to
have snuffed so much.[889] But these cases turn on fraud, whereas
absurdities in which low races largely agree are apt to have their
origin rather in genuine error. Indeed, their dominant theories of the
manner in which deities receive sacrifice are in accordance not with
fraud but with facts, and must be treated as strictly rational and
honest developments of the lower animism. The clearest and most general
of these theories are as follows.
When the deity is considered to take actual possession of the food or
other objects offered, this may be conceived to happen by abstraction of
their life, savour, essence, quality, and in yet more definite
conception their spirit or soul. The solid part may die, decay, be taken
away or consumed or destroyed, or may simply remain untouched. Among
this group of conceptions, the most materialized is that which carries
out the obvious primitive world-wide doctrine that the life is the
blood. Accordingly, the blood is offered to the deity, and even
disembodied spirits are thought capable of consuming it, like the ghosts
for whom Odysseus entering Hades poured into the trench the blood of the
sacrificed ram and black ewe, and the pale shades drank and spoke;[890]
or the evil spirits which the Mintira of the Malay Peninsula keep away
from the wife in childbirth by placing her near the fire, for the demons
are believed to drink human blood when they can find it.[891] Thus in
Virginia the Indians (in pretence or reality) sacrificed children, whose
blood the oki or spirit was said to suck from their left breast.[892]
The Kayans of Borneo used to offer human sacrifice when a great chief
took possession of a newly built house; in one late case, about 1847, a
Malay slave girl was bought for the purpose and bled to death, the
blood, which alone is efficacious, being sprinkled on the pillars and
under the house, and the body being thrown into the river.[893] The same
ideas appear among the indigenes of India, alike in North Bengal and in
the Deccan, where the blood alone of the sacrificed animal is for the
deities, and the votary retains the meat.[894] Thus, in West Africa, the
negroes of Benin are described as offering a cock to the idol, but it
receives only the blood, for they like the flesh very well
themselves;[895] while in the Yoruba country, when a beast is sacrificed
for a sick man, the blood is sprinkled on the wall and smeared on the
patient’s forehead, with the idea, it is said, of thus transferring to
him the victim’s life.[896] The Jewish law of sacrifice marks clearly
the distinction between shedding the blood as life, and offering it as
food. As the Israelites themselves might not eat with the flesh the
blood which is the life, but must pour it on the earth as water, so the
rule applies to sacrifice. The blood must be sprinkled before the
sanctuary, put upon the horns of the altar, and there sprinkled or
poured out, but not presented as a drink offering—‘their drink-offerings
of blood will I not offer.’[897]
Spirit being considered in the lower animism as somewhat of the
ethereal nature of smoke or mist, there is an obvious reasonableness
in the idea that offerings reduced to this condition are fit to be
consumed by, or transmitted to, spiritual beings towards whom the
vapour rises in the air. This idea is well shown in the case of
incense, and especially a peculiar kind of incense offered among the
native tribes of America. The habit of smoking tobacco is not
suggestive of religious rites among ourselves, but in its native
country, where it is so widely diffused as to be perhaps the best
point assignable in favour of a connexion in the culture of the
northern and southern continent, its place in worship is very
important. The Osages would begin an undertaking by smoking a pipe,
with such a prayer as this: ‘Great Spirit, come down to smoke with me
as a friend! Fire and Earth, smoke with me and help me to overthrow my
foes!’ The Sioux in Hennepin’s time would look toward the Sun when
they smoked, and when the calumet was lighted, they presented it to
him, saying: ‘Smoke, Sun!’ The Natchez chief at sunrise smoked first
to the east and then to the other quarters; and so on. It is not
merely, however, that puffs from the tobacco-pipe are thus offered to
deities as drops of drink or morsels of food might be. The calumet is
a special gift of the Sun or the Great Spirit, tobacco is a sacred
herb, and smoking is an agreeable sacrifice ascending into the air to
the abode of gods and spirits.[898] Among the Caribs, the native
sorcerer evoking a demon would puff tobacco-smoke into the air as an
agreeable perfume to attract the spirit; while among Brazilian tribes
the sorcerers smoked round upon the bystanders and on the patient to
be cured.[899] How thoroughly incense and burnt-offering are of the
same nature, the Zulus well show, burning incense together with the
fat of the caul of the slaughtered beast, to give the spirits of the
people a sweet savour.[900] As to incense more precisely of the sort
we are familiar with, it was in daily use in the temples of Mexico,
where among the commonest antiquarian relics are the earthen
incense-pots in which ‘copalli’ (whence our word copal) and bitumen
were burnt.[901] Though incense was hardly usual in the ancient
religion of China, yet in modern Chinese houses and temples the
‘joss-stick’ and censer do honour to all divine beings, from the
ancestral manes to the great gods and Heaven and Earth.[902] The
history of incense in the religion of Greece and Rome points the
contrast between old thrift and new extravagance, where the early
fumigations with herbs and chips of fragrant wood are contrasted with
the later oriental perfumes, myrrh and cassia and frankincense.[903]
In the temples of ancient Egypt, numberless representations of
sacrificial ceremony show the burning of the incense-pellets in
censers before the images of the gods; and Plutarch speaks of the
incense burnt thrice daily to the Sun, resin at his rising, myrrh at
his meridian, kuphi at his setting.[904] The ordinance held as
prominent a place among the Semitic nations. At the yearly festival of
Bel in Babylon, the Chaldæans are declared by Herodotus to have burned
a thousand talents of incense on the large altar in the temple where
sat his golden image.[905] In the records of ancient Israel, there has
come down to us the very recipe for compounding incense after the art
of the apothecary. The priests carried every man his censer, and on
the altar of incense, overlaid with gold, standing before the vail in
the tabernacle, sweet spices were burned morn and even, a perpetual
incense before the Lord.[906]
The sacrifice by fire is familiar to the religion of North American
tribes. Thus the Algonquins knew the practice of casting into the fire
the first morsel of the feast; and throwing fat into the flames for the
spirits, they would pray to them ‘make us find food.’ Catlin has
described and sketched the Mandans dancing round the fire where the
first kettleful of the green-corn is being burned, an offering to the
Great Spirit before the feast begins.[907] The Peruvians burnt llamas as
offerings to the Creator, Sun, Moon, and Thunder, and other lesser
deities. As to the operation of sacrifice, an idea of theirs comes well
into view in the legend of Manco Ccapac ordering the sacrifice of the
most beautiful of his sons, ‘cutting off his head, and sprinkling the
blood over the fire, that the smoke might reach the Maker of heaven and
earth.’[908] In Siberia the sacrifices of the Tunguz and Buraets, in the
course of which bits of meat and liver and fat are cast into the fire,
carry on the same idea.[909] Chinese sacrifices to sun and moon, stars
and constellations, show their purpose in most definite fashion; beasts
and even silks and precious stones are burned, that their vapour may
ascend to these heavenly spirits.[910] No less significant, though in a
different sense, is the Siamese offering to the household deity, incense
and arrack and rice steaming hot; he does not eat it all, not always any
part of it, it is the fragrant steam which he loves to inhale.[911]
Looking now to the records of Aryan sacrifice, views similar to these
are not obscurely expressed. When the Brahman burns the offerings on the
altar-fire, they are received by Agni the divine Fire, mouth of the
gods, messenger of the All-knowing, to whom is chanted the Vedic
strophe, ‘Agni! the sacrifice which thou encompassest whole, it goes
unto the gods!’[912] The Homeric poems show the plain meaning of the
hecatombs of old barbaric Greece, where the savour of the burnt offering
went up in wreathing smoke to heaven, ‘Κνίσση δ’ οὐρανὸν ἶκεν ἐλισσομένη
περὶ καπνῷ.’[913] Passed into a far other stage of history, men’s minds
had not lost sight of the archaic thought even in Porphyry’s time, for
he knows how the demons who desire to be gods rejoice in the libations
and fumes of sacrifice, whereby their spiritual and bodily substance
fattens, for this lives on the steam and vapours and is strengthened by
the fumes of the blood and flesh.[914]
The view of commentators that sacrifice, as a religious act of remote
antiquity and world-wide prevalence, was adopted, regulated, and
sanctioned in the Jewish law, is in agreement with the general
ethnography of the subject. Here sacrifice appears not with the lower
conception of a gift acceptable and even beneficial to deity, but with
the higher significance of devout homage or expiation for sin. As is so
usual in the history of religion, the offering consisted in general of
food, and the consummation of the sacrifice was by fire. To the
ceremonial details of the sacrificial rites of Israel, whether
prescribing the burning of the carcases of oxen and sheep or of the
bloodless gifts of flour mingled with oil, there is appended again and
again the explanation of the intent of the rite; it is ‘an offering made
by fire, of a sweet savour unto the Lord.’ The copious records of
sacrifice in the Old Testament enable us to follow its expansion from
the simple patriarchal forms of a pastoral tribe, to the huge and
complex system organized to carry on the ancient service in a now
populous and settled kingdom. Among writers on the Jewish religion, Dean
Stanley has vividly portrayed the aspect of the Temple, with the flocks
of sheep and droves of cattle crowding its courts, the vast apparatus of
slaughter, the great altar of burnt-offering towering above the people,
where the carcases were laid, the drain beneath to carry off the streams
of blood. To this historian, in sympathy rather with the spirit of the
prophet than the ceremony of the priest, it is a congenial task to dwell
upon the great movement in later Judaism to maintain the place of
ethical above ceremonial religion.[915] In those times of Hebrew
history, the prophets turned with stern rebuke on those who ranked
ceremonial ordinance above weightier matters of the law. ‘I desired
mercy and not sacrifice, and the knowledge of God more than burnt
offerings.’ ‘I delight not in the blood of bullocks, or of lambs, or of
he goats.... Wash you, make you clean; put away the evil of your doings
from before mine eyes. Cease to do evil, learn to do well.’
Continuing the enquiry into the physical operation ascribed to
sacrifice, we turn to a different conception. It is an idea well vouched
for in the lower culture, that the deity, while leaving apparently
untouched the offering set out before him, may nevertheless partake of
or abstract what in a loose way may be described as its essence. The
Zulus leave the flesh of the sacrificed bullock all night, and the
divine ancestral spirits come and eat, yet next morning everything
remains just as it was. Describing this practice, a native Zulu thus
naïvely comments on it: ‘But when we ask, “What do the Amadhlozi eat?
for in the morning we still see all the meat,” the old men say, “The
Amatongo lick it.” And we are unable to contradict them, but are silent,
for they are older than we, and tell us all things and we listen; for we
are told all things, and assent without seeing clearly whether they are
true or not.’[916] Such imagination was familiar to the native religion
of the West Indian islands. In Columbus’ time, and with particular
reference to Hispaniola, Roman Pane describes the native mode of
sacrifice. Upon any solemn day, when they provide much to eat, whether
fish, flesh, or any other thing, they put it all into the house of the
cemis, that the idol may feed on it. The next day they carry all home,
after the cemi has eaten. And God so help them (says the friar), as the
cemi eats of that or anything else, they being inanimate stocks or
stones. A century and a half later, a similar notion still prevailed in
these islands. Nothing could show it more neatly than the fancy of the
Caribs that they could hear the spirits in the night moving the vessels
and champing the food set out for them, yet next morning there was
nothing touched; it was held that the viands thus partaken of by the
spirits had become holy, so that only the old men and considerable
people might taste them, and even these required a certain bodily
purity.[917] Islanders of Pulo Aur, though admitting that their banished
disease-spirits did not actually consume the grains of rice set out for
them, nevertheless believed them to appropriate its essence.[918] In
India, among the indigenes of the Garo hills, we hear of the head and
blood of the sacrificed animal being placed with some rice under a
bamboo arch covered with a white cloth; the god comes and takes what he
wants, and after a time this special offering is dressed for the company
with the rest of the animal.[919] The Khond deities live on the flavours
and essences drawn from the offerings of their votaries, or from animals
or grain which they cause to die or disappear.[920] When the Buraets of
Siberia have sacrificed a sheep and boiled the mutton, they set it up on
a scaffold for the gods while the shaman is chanting his song, and then
themselves fall to.[921] And thus, in the folklore of mediæval Europe,
Domina Abundia would come with her dames into the houses at night, and
eat and drink from the vessels left uncovered for their increase-giving
visit, yet nothing was consumed.[922]
The extreme animistic view of sacrifice is that the soul of the offered
animal or thing is abstracted by or transmitted to the deity. This
notion of spirits taking souls is in a somewhat different way
exemplified among the Binua of Johore, who hold that the evil
River-spirits inflict diseases on man by feeding on the ‘semangat,’ or
unsubstantial body (in ordinary parlance the spirit) in which his life
resides,[923] while the Karen demon devours not the body but the ‘la,’
spirit or vital principle; thus when it eats a man’s eyes, their
material part remains, but they are blind.[924] Now an idea similar to
this furnished the Polynesians with a theory of sacrifice. The priest
might send commissions by the sacrificed human victim; spirits of the
dead are eaten by the gods or demons; the spiritual part of the
sacrifices is eaten by the spirit of the idol (i.e. the deity dwelling
or embodied in the idol) before whom it is presented.[925] Of the
Fijians it is observed that of the great offerings of food native belief
apportions merely the soul to the gods, who are described as being
enormous eaters; the substance is consumed by the worshippers. As in
various other districts of the world, human sacrifice is here in fact a
meat-offering; cannibalism is a part of the Fijian religion, and the
gods are described as delighting in human flesh.[926] Such ideas are
explicit among Indian tribes of the American lakes, who consider that
offerings, whether abandoned or consumed by the worshippers, go in a
spiritual form to the spirit they are devoted to. Native legends afford
the clearest illustrations. The following is a passage from an Ottawa
tale which recounts the adventures of Wassamo, he who was conveyed by
the spirit-maiden to the lodge of her father, the Spirit of the Sand
Downs, down below the waters of Lake Superior. ‘Son-in-law,’ said the
Old Spirit, ‘I am in want of tobacco. You shall return to visit your
parents, and can make known my wishes. For it is very seldom that those
few who pass these Sand Hills, offer a piece of tobacco. When they do
it, it immediately comes to me. Just so,’ he added, putting his hand out
of the side of the lodge, and drawing in several pieces of tobacco,
which some one at that moment happened to offer to the Spirit, for a
smooth lake and prosperous voyage. ‘You see,’ he said, ‘every thing
offered me on earth, comes immediately to the side of my lodge.’ Wassamo
saw the women also putting their hands to the side of the lodge, and
then handing round something, of which all partook. This he found to be
offerings of food made by mortals on earth. The distinctly spiritual
nature of this transmission is shown immediately after, for Wassamo
cannot eat such mere spirit-food, wherefore his spirit-wife puts out her
hand from the lodge and takes in a material fish out of the lake to cook
for him.[927] Another Ottawa legend, the already cited nature-myth of
the Sun and Moon, is of much interest not only for its display of this
special thought, but as showing clearly the motives with which savage
animists offer sacrifices to their deities, and consider these deities
to accept them. Onowuttokwutto, the Ojibwa youth who has followed the
Moon up to the lovely heaven-prairies to be her husband, is taken one
day by her brother the Sun to see how he gets his dinner. The two look
down together through the hole in the sky upon the earth below, the Sun
points out a group of children playing beside a lodge, at the same time
throwing a tiny stone to hit a beautiful boy. The child falls, they see
him carried into the lodge, they hear the sound of the sheesheegwun (the
rattle), and the song and prayer of the medicine-man that the child’s
life may be spared. To this entreaty of the medicine-man, the Sun makes
answer, ‘Send me up the white dog.’ Then the two spectators above could
distinguish on the earth the hurry and bustle of preparation for a
feast, a white dog killed and singed, and the people who were called
assembling at the lodge. While these things were passing, the Sun
addressed himself to Onowuttokwutto, saying, ‘There are among you in the
lower world some whom you call great medicine-men; but it is because
their ears are open, and they hear my voice, when I have struck any one,
that they are able to give relief to the sick. They direct the people to
send me whatever I call for and when they have sent it, I remove my hand
from those I had made sick.’ When he had said this, the white dog was
parcelled out in dishes for those that were at the feast; then the
medicine-man when they were about to begin to eat, said, ‘We send thee
this, Great Manito.’ Immediately the Sun and his Ojibwa companion saw
the dog, cooked and ready to be eaten, rising to them through the
air—and then and there they dined upon it.[928] How such ideas bear on
the meaning of human sacrifice, we may perhaps judge from this prayer of
the Iroquois, offering a human victim to the War-god: ‘To thee, O Spirit
Arieskoi, we slay this sacrifice, that thou mayst feed upon the flesh,
and be moved to give us henceforth luck and victory over our
enemies!’[929] So among the Aztec prayers, there occurs this one
addressed to Tezcatlipoca-Yautl in time of war: ‘Lord of battles; it is
a very certain and sure thing, that a great war is beginning to make,
ordain, form, and concert itself; the War-god opens his mouth, hungry to
swallow the blood of many who shall die in this war; it seems that the
Sun and the Earth-God Tlatecutli desire to rejoice; they desire to give
meat and drink to the gods of Heaven and Hades, making them a banquet of
the flesh and blood of the men who are to die in this war,’ &c.[930]
There is remarkable definiteness in the Peruvian idea that the souls of
human victims are transmitted to another life in divine as in funeral
sacrifice; at one great ceremony, where children of each tribe were
sacrificed to propitiate the gods, ‘they strangled the children, first
giving them to eat and drink, that they might not enter the presence of
the Creator discontented and hungry.’[931] Similar ideas of spiritual
sacrifice appear in other regions of the world. Thus in West Africa we
read of the tree-fetish enjoying the spirit of the food-offering, but
leaving its substance, and an account of the religion of the Gold Coast
mentions how each great wong or deity has his house, and his priest and
priestess to clean the room and give him daily bread kneaded with
palm-oil, ‘of which, as of all gifts of this kind, the wong eats the
invisible soul.’[932] So, in India, the Limbus of Darjeeling make small
offerings of grain, vegetables, and sugar-cane, and sacrifice cows,
pigs, fowls, &c., on the declared principle ‘the life breath to the
gods, the flesh to ourselves.’[933] It seems likely that such meaning
may largely explain the sacrificial practices of other religions. In
conjunction with these accounts, the unequivocal meaning of funeral
sacrifices, whereby offerings are conveyed spiritually into the
possession of spirits of the dead, may perhaps justify us in inferring
that similar ideas of spiritual transmission prevail extensively among
the many nations whose sacrificial rites we know in fact, but cannot
trace with certainty to their original significance.
Having thus examined the manner in which the operation of sacrifice is
considered to take physical effect, whether indefinitely or definitely,
and having distinguished its actual transmission as either substantial,
essential, or spiritual, let us now follow the question of the
sacrificer’s motive in presenting the sacrifice. Important and complex
as this problem is, its key is so obvious that it may be almost
throughout treated by mere statement of general principle. If the main
proposition of animistic natural religion be granted, that the idea of
the human soul is the model of the idea of deity, then the analogy of
man’s dealings with man ought, _inter alia_, to explain his motives in
sacrifice. It does so, and very fully. The proposition may be maintained
in wide generality, that the common man’s present to the great man, to
gain good or avert evil, to ask aid or to condone offence, needs only
substitution of deity for chief, and proper adaptation of the means of
conveying the gift to him, to produce a logical doctrine of sacrificial
rites, in great measure explaining their purpose directly as they stand,
and elsewhere suggesting what was the original meaning which has passed
into changed shape in the course of ages. Instead of offering a special
collection of evidence here on this proposition, it may be enough to ask
attentive reference to any extensive general collection of accounts of
sacrifice, such for instance as those cited for various purposes in
these volumes. It will be noticed that offerings to divinities may be
classed in the same way as earthly gifts. The occasional gift made to
meet some present emergency, the periodical tribute brought by subject
to lord, the royalty paid to secure possession or protection of acquired
wealth, all these have their evident and well-marked analogues in the
sacrificial systems of the world. It may impress some minds with a
stronger sense of the sufficiency of this theory of sacrifice, to
consider how the transition is made in the same imperceptible way from
the idea of substantial value received, to that of ceremonial homage
rendered, whether the recipient be man or god. We do not find it easy to
analyse the impression which a gift makes on our own feelings, and to
separate the actual value of the object from the sense of gratification
in the giver’s good-will or respect, and thus we may well scruple to
define closely how uncultured men work out this very same distinction in
their dealings with their deities. In a general way it may be held that
the idea of practical acceptableness of the food or valuables presented
to the deity, begins early to shade into the sentiment of divine
gratification or propitiation by a reverent offering, though in itself
of not much account to so mighty a divine personage. These two stages of
the sacrificial idea may be fairly contrasted, the one among the Karens
who offer to a demon arrack or grain or a portion of the game they kill,
considering invocation of no avail without a gift,[934] the other among
the negroes of Sierra Leone, who sacrifice an ox ‘to make God glad very
much, and do Kroomen good.’[935]
Hopeless as it may be in hundreds of accounts of sacrifice to guess
whether the worshipper means to benefit or merely to gratify the deity,
there are also numbers of cases in which the thought in the sacrificer’s
mind can scarcely be more than an idea of ceremonial homage. One of the
best-marked sacrificial rites of the world is that of offering by fire
or otherwise morsels or libations at meals. This ranges from the
religion of the North American Indian to that of the classic Greek and
the ancient Chinese, and still holds its place in peasant custom in
Europe.[936] Other groups of cases pass into yet more absolute formality
of reverence. See the Guinea negro passing in silence by the sacred tree
or cavern, and dropping a leaf or a sea-shell as an offering to the
local spirit;[937] the Talein of Burma holding up the dish at his meal
to offer it to the nat, before the company fall to;[938] the Hindu
holding up a little of his rice in his fingers to the height of his
forehead, and offering it in thought to Siva or Vishnu before he eats
it.[939] The same argument applies to the cases ranging far and wide
through religion, where, whatever may have been the original intent of
the sacrifice, it has practically passed into a feast. A banquet where
the deity has but the pretence and the worshippers the reality, may seem
to us a mere mockery of sacrifice. Yet how sincerely men regard it as a
religious ceremony, the following anecdote of a North American Indian
tribe will show. A travelling party of Potawatomis, for three days
finding no game, were in great distress for want of food. On the third
night, a chief, named Saugana, had a dream, wherein a person appearing
to him showed him that they were suffering because they had set out
without a sacrificial feast. He had started, on this important journey,
the dreamer said, ‘as a white man would,’ without making any religious
preparation. Therefore the Great Spirit had punished them with scarcity.
Now, however, twelve men were to go and kill four deer before the sun
was thus high (about nine o’clock). The chief in his dream had seen
these four deer lying dead, the hunters duly killed them, and the
sacrificial feast was held.[940] Further illustrative examples of such
sacred banquets may be chosen through the long range of culture. The
Zulus propitiate the Heaven-god above with a sacrifice of black cattle,
that they may have rain; the village chiefs select the oxen, one is
killed, the rest are merely mentioned; the flesh of the slaughtered ox
is eaten in the house in perfect silence, a token of humble submission;
the bones are burnt outside the village; and after the feast they chant
in musical sounds, a song without words.[941] The Serwatty Islanders
sacrifice buffaloes, pigs, goats, and fowls to the idols when an
individual or the community undertakes an affair or expedition of
importance, and as the carcases are devoured by the devotees, this
ensures a respectable attendance when the offerings are numerous.[942]
Thus among rude tribes of Northern India, sacrifices of beasts are
accompanied by libations of fermented liquor, and in fact sacrifice and
feast are convertible words.[943] Among the Aztecs, prisoners of war
furnished first an acceptable sacrifice to the deity, and then the
staple of a feast for the captors and their friends;[944] while in
ancient Peru whole flocks of sacrificed llamas were eaten by the
people.[945] The history of Greek religion plainly records the
transition from the early holocausts devoted by fire to the gods, to the
great festivals where the sacrifices provided meat for the public
banquets held to honour them in ceremonial homage.[946]
Beside this development from gift to homage, there arises also a
doctrine that the gist of sacrifice is rather in the worshipper giving
something precious to himself, than in the deity receiving benefit. This
may be called the abnegation-theory, and its origin may be fairly
explained by considering it as derived from the original gift-theory.
Taking our own feelings again for a guide, we know how it satisfies us
to have done our part in giving, even if the gift be ineffectual, and
how we scruple to take it back if not received, but rather get rid of it
in some other way—it is corban. Thus we may enter into the feelings of
the Assinaboin Indians, who considered that the blankets and pieces of
cloth and brass kettles and such valuables abandoned in the woods as a
medicine-sacrifice, might be carried off by any friendly party who
chanced to discover them;[947] or of the Ava Buddhists bringing to the
temples offerings of boiled rice and sweetmeats and coco-nut fried in
oil, and never attempting to disturb the crows and wild dogs who
devoured it before their eyes;[948] of the modern Moslems sacrificing
sheep, oxen, and camels in the valley of Muna on their return from
Mekka, it being a meritorious act to give away a victim without eating
any of it, while parties of Takruri watch around like vultures, ready to
pounce upon the carcases.[949] If the offering to the deity be continued
in ceremonial survival, in spite of a growing conviction that after all
the deity does not need and cannot profit by it, sacrifice will be thus
kept up in spite of having become practically unreasonable, and the
worshipper may still continue to measure its efficacy by what it costs
him. But to take this abnegation theory as representing the primitive
intention of sacrifice would be, I think, to turn history upside down.
The mere fact of sacrifices to deities, from the lowest to the highest
levels of culture, consisting to the extent of nine-tenths or more of
gifts of food and sacred banquets, tells forcibly against the
originality of the abnegation-theory. If the primary motive had been to
give up valuable property, we should find the sacrifice of weapons,
garments, ornaments, as prevalent in the lower culture as in fact it is
unusual. Looking at the subject in a general view, to suppose men to
have started by devoting to their deities what they considered
practically useless to them, in order that they themselves might suffer
a loss which none is to gain, is to undervalue the practical sense of
savages, who are indeed apt to keep up old rites after their meaning has
fallen away, but seldom introduce new ones without a rational motive. In
studying the religion of the lower races, men are found dealing with
their gods in as practical and straightforward a way as with their
neighbours, and where plain original purpose is found, it may well be
accepted as sufficient explanation. Of the way in which gift can pass
into abnegation, an instructive example is forthcoming in Buddhism. It
is held that sinful men are liable to be re-born in course of
transmigration as wandering, burning, miserable demons (preta). Now
these demons may receive offerings of food and drink from their
relatives, who can further benefit them by acts of merit done in their
name, as giving food to priests, unless the wretched spirits be so low
in merit that this cannot profit them. Yet even in this case it is held
that though the act does not benefit the spirit whom it is directed to,
it does benefit the person who performs it.[950] Unequivocal examples of
abnegation in sacrifice may be best found among those offerings of which
the value to the offerer utterly exceeds the value they can be supposed
to have to the deity. The most striking of these found among nations
somewhat advanced in general culture, appear in the history of human
sacrifice among Semitic nations. The king of Moab, when the battle was
too sore for him, offered up his eldest son for a burnt-offering on the
wall. The Phœnicians sacrificed the dearest children to propitiate the
angry gods, they enhanced their value by choosing them of noble
families, and there was not wanting among them even the utmost proof
that the efficacy of the sacrifice lay in the sacrificer’s grievous
loss, for they must have for yearly sacrifice only-begotten sons of
their parents (Κρόνῳ γαρ Φοίνικες καθ’ ἕκαστον ἔτος ἔθυον τὰ ἀγαπητὰ καὶ
μονογενῆ τῶν τέκνων). Heliogabalus brought the hideous Oriental rite
into Italy, choosing for victims to his solar divinity high-born lads
throughout the land. Of all such cases, the breaking of the sacred law
of hospitality by sacrificing the guest to Jupiter hospitalis, Ζεὺς
ξένιος, shows in the strongest light in Semitic regions how the value to
the offerer might become the measure of acceptableness to the god.[951]
In such ways, slightly within the range of the lower culture, but
strongly in the religion of the higher nations, the transition from the
gift-theory to the abnegation theory seems to have come about. Our
language displays it in a word, if we do but compare the sense of
presentation and acceptance which ‘sacrificium’ had in a Roman temple,
with the sense of mere giving up and loss which ‘sacrifice’ conveys in
an English market.
Through the history of sacrifice, it has occurred to many nations that
cost may be economized without impairing efficiency. The result is seen
in ingenious devices to lighten the burden on the worshipper by
substituting something less valuable than what he ought to offer, or
pretends to. Even in such a matter as this, the innate correspondence in
the minds of men is enough to produce in distant and independent races
so much uniformity of development, that three or four headings will
serve to class the chief divisions of sacrificial substitution among
mankind.
To give part for the whole is a proceeding so closely conformed to
ordinary tribute by subject to lord, that in great measure it comes
directly under the gift-theory, and as such has already had its examples
here. It is only when the part given to the gods is of contemptible
value in proportion to the whole, that full sacrifice passes gradually
into substitution. This is the case when in Madagascar the head of the
sacrificed beast is set up on a pole, and the blood and fat are rubbed
on the stones of the altar, but the sacrificers and their friends and
the officiating priest devour the whole carcase;[952] when rich Guinea
negroes sacrifice a sheep or goat to the fetish, and feast on it with
their friends, only leaving for the deity himself part of the
entrails;[953] when Tunguz, sacrificing cattle, would give a bit of
liver and fat and perhaps hang up the hide in the woods as the god’s
share, or Mongols would set the heart of the beast before the idol till
next day.[954] Thus the most ancient whole burnt-offering of the Greeks
dwindled to burning for the gods only the bones and fat of the
slaughtered ox, while the worshippers feasted themselves on the meat, an
economic rite which takes mythic shape in the legend of the sly
Prometheus giving Zeus the choice of the two parts of the sacrificed ox
he had divided for gods and mortals, on the one side bones covered
seemly with white fat, on the other the joints hidden under repulsive
hide and entrails.[955] With a different motive, not that of parsimony,
but of keeping up in survival an ancient custom, the Zarathustrian
religion performed by substitution the old Aryan sacrifice by fire. The
Vedic sacrifice Agnishtoma required that animals should be slain, and
their flesh partly committed to the gods by fire, partly eaten by
sacrificers and priests. The Parsi ceremony Izeshne, formal successor of
this bloody rite, requires no animal to be killed, but it suffices to
place the hair of an ox in a vessel, and show it to the fire.[956]
The offering of a part of the worshipper’s own body is a most usual act,
whether its intention is simply that of gift or tribute, or whether it
is considered as a _pars pro toto_ representing the whole man, either in
danger and requiring to be ransomed, or destined to actual sacrifice for
another and requiring to be redeemed. How a finger-joint may thus
represent a whole body, is perfectly shown in the funeral sacrifices of
the Nicobar islanders; they bury the dead man’s property with him, and
his wife has a finger-joint cut off (obviously a substitute for
herself), and if she refuses even this, a deep notch is cut in a pillar
of the house.[957] We are now concerned, however, with the
finger-offering, not as a sacrifice to the dead, but as addressed to
other deities. This idea is apparently worked out in the Tongan custom
of tutu-nima, the chopping off a portion of the little finger with a
hatchet or sharp stone as a sacrifice to the gods, for the recovery of a
sick relation of higher rank; Mariner saw children of five years old
quarrelling for the honour of having it done to them.[958] In the Mandan
ceremonies of initiation into manhood, when the youth at last hung
senseless and (as they called it) lifeless by the cords made fast to
splints through his flesh, he was let down, and coming to himself
crawled on hands and feet round the medicine-lodge to where an old
Indian sat with hatchet in his hand and a buffalo skull before him; then
the youth, holding up the little finger of his left hand to the Great
Spirit, offered it as a sacrifice, and it was chopped off, and sometimes
the fore-finger afterwards, upon the skull.[959] In India, probably as a
Dravidian rather than Aryan rite, the practice with full meaning comes
into view; as Siva cut off his finger to appease the wrath of Kali, so
in the southern provinces mothers will cut off their own fingers as
sacrifices lest they lose their children, and one hears of a golden
finger being allowed instead, the substitute of a substitute.[960] The
New Zealanders hang locks of hair on branches of trees in the
burying-ground, a recognised place for offerings.[961] That hair may be
a substitute for its owner is well shown in Malabar, where we read of
the demon being expelled from the possessed patient and flogged by the
exorcist to a tree; there the sick man’s hair is nailed fast, cut away,
and left for a propitiation to the demon.[962] Thus there is some ground
for interpreting the consecration of the boy’s cut hair in Europe as a
representative sacrifice.[963] As for the formal shedding of blood, it
may represent fatal bloodshed, as when the Jagas or priests in Quilombo
only marked with spears the children brought in, instead of running them
through;[964] or when in Greece a few drops of human blood had come to
stand instead of the earlier and more barbaric human sacrifice;[965] or
when in our own time and under our own rule a Vishnuite who has
inadvertently killed a monkey, a garuda, or a cobra, may expiate his
offence by a mock sacrifice, in which a human victim is wounded in the
thigh, pretends to die, and goes through the farce of resuscitation, his
drawn blood serving as substitute for his life.[966] One of the most
noteworthy cases of the survival of such formal bloodshed within modern
memory in Europe must be classed as not Aryan but Turanian, belonging as
it does to the folklore of Esthonia. The sacrificer had to draw drops of
blood from his forefinger, and therewith to pray this prayer, which was
taken down verbatim from one who remembered it:—‘I name thee with my
blood and betroth thee with my blood, and point thee out my buildings to
be blessed, stables and cattle-pens and hen-roosts; let them be blessed
through my blood and thy might!’ ‘Be my joy, thou Almighty, upholder of
my forefathers, my protector and guardian of my life! I beseech thee by
strength of flesh and blood; receive the food that I bring thee to thy
sustenance and the joy of my body; keep me as thy good child, and I will
thank and praise thee. By the help of the Almighty, my own God, hearken
to me! What through negligence I have done imperfectly toward thee, do
thou forget! But keep it truly in remembrance, that I have honestly paid
my gifts to my parents’ honour and joy and requital. Moreover falling
down I thrice kiss the earth. Be with me quick in doing, and peace be
with thee hitherto!’[967] These various rites of finger-cutting,
hair-cutting, and blood-letting, have required mention here from the
special point of view of their connexion with sacrifice. They belong to
an extensive series of practices, due to various and often obscure
motives, which come under the general heading of ceremonial mutilations.
When a life is given for a life, it is still possible to offer a life
less valued than the life in danger. When in Peru the Inca or some great
lord fell sick, he would offer to the deity one of his sons, imploring
him to take this victim in his stead.[968] The Greeks found it
sufficient to offer to the gods criminals or captives;[969] and the like
was the practice of the heathen tribes of northern Europe, to whom
indeed Christian dealers were accused of selling slaves for sacrificial
purposes.[970] Among such accounts, the typical story belongs to Punic
history. The Carthaginians, overcome and hard pressed in the war with
Agathokles, set down the defeat to divine wrath. Now Kronos had in
former times received his sacrifice of the chosen of their sons, but of
late they had put him off with children bought and nourished for the
purpose. In fact they had obeyed the sacrificer’s natural tendency to
substitution, but now in time of misfortune the reaction set in. To
balance the account and condone the parsimonious fraud, a monstrous
sacrifice was celebrated. Two hundred children, of the noblest of the
land, were brought to the idol. ‘For there was among them a brazen
statue of Kronos, holding out his hands sloping downward, so that the
child placed on them rolled off and fell into a certain chasm full of
fire.’[971] The Phœnician god here called Kronos is commonly though not
certainly identified with Moloch. Next, it will help us to realize how
the sacrifice of an animal may atone for a human life, if we notice in
South Africa how a Zulu will redeem a lost child from the finder by a
bullock, or a Kimbunda will expiate the blood of a slave by the offering
of an ox, whose blood will wash away the other.[972] For instances of
the animal substituted for man in sacrifice the following may serve.
Among the Khonds of Orissa, when Colonel Macpherson was engaged in
putting down the sacrifice of human victims by the sect of the
Earth-goddess, they at once began to discuss the plan of sacrificing
cattle by way of substitutes. Now there is some reason to think that
this same course of ceremonial change may account for the following
sacrificial practice in the other Khond sect. It appears that those who
worship the Light-god hold a festival in his honour, when they slaughter
a buffalo in commemoration of the time when, as they say, the
Earth-goddess was prevailing on men to offer human sacrifices to her,
but the Light-god sent a tribe-deity who crushed the bloody-minded
Earth-goddess under a mountain, and dragged a buffalo out of the jungle,
saying, ‘Liberate the man, and sacrifice the buffalo!’[973] This legend,
divested of its mythic garb, may really record a historical substitution
of animal for human sacrifice. In Ceylon, the exorcist will demand the
name of the demon possessing a demoniac, and the patient in frenzy
answers, giving the demon’s name, ‘I am So-and-so, I demand a human
sacrifice and will not go out without!’ The victim is promised, the
patient comes to from the fit, and a few weeks later the sacrifice is
made, but instead of a man they offer a fowl.[974] Classic examples of
substitution of this sort may be found in the sacrifice of a doe for a
virgin to Artemis in Laodicæa, a goat for a boy to Dionysos at Potniæ.
There appears to be Semitic connexion here, as there clearly is in the
story of the Æolians of Tenedos sacrificing to Melikertes (Melkarth)
instead of a new-born child a new-born calf, shoeing it with buskins and
tending the mother-cow as if a human mother.[975]
One step more in the course of substitution leads the worshipper to make
his sacrifice by effigy. An instructive example of the way in which this
kind of substitution arises may be found in the rites of ancient Mexico.
At the yearly festival of the water-gods and mountain-gods, certain
actual sacrifices of human victims took place in the temples. At the
same time, in the houses of the people, there was celebrated an
unequivocal but harmless imitation of this bloody rite. They made paste
images, adored them, and in due pretence of sacrifice cut them open at
the breast, took out their hearts, cut off their heads, divided and
devoured their limbs.[976] In the classic religions of Greece and Rome,
the desire to keep up the consecrated rites of ages more barbaric, more
bloodthirsty, or more profuse, worked itself out in many a compromise of
this class, such as the brazen statues offered for human victims, the
cakes of dough or wax in the figure of the beasts for which they were
presented as symbolic substitutes.[977] Not for economy, but to avoid
taking life, Brahmanic sacrifice has been known to be brought down to
offering models of the victim-animals in meal and butter.[978] The
modern Chinese, whose satisfaction in this kind of make-believe is so
well shown by their despatching paper figures to serve as attendants for
the dead, work out in the same fanciful way the idea of the sacrificial
effigy, in propitiating the presiding deity of the year for the cure of
a sick man. The rude figure of a man is drawn on or cut out of a piece
of paper, pasted on a slip of bamboo, and stuck upright in a packet of
mock-money. With proper exorcism, this representative is carried out
into the street with the disease, the priest squirts water from his
mouth over patient, image, and mock-money, the two latter are burnt, and
the company eat up the little feast laid out for the year-deity.[979]
There is curious historical significance in the custom at the inundation
of the Nile at Cairo, of setting up a conical pillar of earth which the
flood washes away as it rises. This is called the arûseh or bride, and
appears to be a substitute introduced under humaner Moslem influence,
for the young virgin in gay apparel who in older time was thrown into
the river, a sacrifice to obtain a plentiful inundation.[980] Again, the
patient’s offering the model of his diseased limb is distinctly of the
nature of a sacrifice, whether it be propitiatory offering before cure,
or thank-offering after. On the one hand, the ex-voto models of arms and
ears dedicated in ancient Egyptian temples are thought to be grateful
memorials,[981] as seems to have been the case with metal models of
faces, breasts, hands, &c., in Bœotian temples.[982] On the other hand,
there are cases where the model and, as it were, substitute of the
diseased part is given to obtain a cure; thus in early Christian times
in Germany protest was made against the heathen custom of hanging up
carved wooden limbs to a helpful idol for relief,[983] and in modern
India the pilgrim coming for cure will deposit in the temple the image
of his diseased limb, in gold or silver or copper according to his
means.[984]
If now we look for the sacrificial idea within the range of modern
Christendom, we shall find it in two ways not obscurely manifest. It
survives in traditional folklore, and it holds a place in established
religion. One of its most remarkable survivals may be seen in Bulgaria,
where sacrifice of live victims is to this day one of the accepted rites
of the land. They sacrifice a lamb on St. George’s day, telling to
account for the custom a legend which combines the episodes of the
offering of Isaac and the miracle of the Three Children. On the feast of
the Panagia (Virgin Mary) sacrifices of lambs, kids, honey, wine, &c.,
are offered in order that the children of the house may enjoy good
health throughout the year. A little child divines by touching one of
three saints’ candles to which the offering is to be dedicated; when the
choice is thus made, the bystanders each drink a cup of wine, saying
‘Saint So-and-So, to thee is the offering.’ Then they cut the throat of
the lamb, or smother the bees, and in the evening the whole village
assembles to eat the various sacrifices, and the men end the ceremony
with the usual drunken bout.[985] Within the borders of Russia, many and
various sacrifices are still offered; such is the horse with head
smeared with honey and mane decked with ribbons, cast into the river
with two millstones to its neck to appease the water-spirit, the
Vodyany, at his spiteful flood-time in early spring; and such is the
portion of supper left out for the house-demon, the domovoy, who if not
thus fed is apt to turn spirit-rapper, and knock the tables and benches
about at night.[986] In many another district of Europe, the tenacious
memory of the tiller of the soil has kept up in wondrous perfection
heirlooms from præ-Christian faiths. In Franconia, people will pour on
the ground a libation before drinking; entering a forest they will put
offerings of bread and fruit on a stone, to avert the attacks of the
demon of the woods, the ‘bilberry-man;’ the bakers will throw white
rolls into the oven flue for luck, and say, ‘Here, devil, they are
thine!’ The Carinthian peasant will fodder the wind by setting up a dish
of food in a tree before his house, and the fire by casting in lard and
dripping, in order that gale and conflagration may not hurt him. At
least up to the end of the 18th century this most direct elemental
sacrifice might be seen in Germany at the midsummer festival in the most
perfect form; some of the porridge from the table was thrown into the
fire, and some into running water, some was buried in the earth, and
some smeared on leaves and put on the chimney-top for the winds.[987]
Relics of such ancient sacrifice may be found in Scandinavia to this
day; to give but one example, the old country altars, rough earth-fast
stones with cup-like hollows, are still visited by mothers whose
children have been smitten with sickness by the trolls, and who smear
lard into the hollows and leave rag-dolls as offerings.[988] France may
be represented by the country-women’s custom of beginning a meal by
throwing down a spoonful of milk or bouillon; and by the record of the
custom of Andrieux in Dauphiny, where at the solstice the villagers went
out upon the bridge when the sun rose, and offered him an omelet.[989]
The custom of burning alive the finest calf, to save a murrain-struck
herd, had its last examples in Cornwall in the 19th century; the records
of bealtuinn sacrifices in Scotland continue in the Highlands within a
century ago; and Scotchmen still living remember the corner of a field
being left untilled for the Goodman’s Croft (i.e., the Devil’s), but the
principle of ‘cheating the devil’ was already in vogue, and the piece of
land allotted was but a worthless scrap.[990] It is a remnant of old
sacrificial rite, when the Swedes still bake at yule-tide a cake in the
shape of a boar, representing the boar sacrificed of old to Freyr, and
Oxford to this day commemorates the same ancestral ceremony, when the
boar’s head is carried in to the Christmas feast at Queen’s College,
with its appointed carol, ‘Caput apri defero, Reddens laudes
Domino.’[991] With a lingering recollection of the old libations, the
German toper’s saying still runs that heeltaps are a devil’s
offering.[992]
As for sacrificial rites most fully and officially existing in modern
Christendom, the presentation of ex-votos is one. The ecclesiastical
opposition to the continuance of these classic thank-offerings was but
temporary and partial. In the 5th century it seems to have been usual to
offer silver and gold eyes, feet, &c., to saints in acknowledgment of
cures they had effected. At the beginning of the 16th century, Polydore
Vergil, describing the classic custom, goes on to say: ‘In the same
manner do we now offer up in our churches sigillaria, that is, little
images of wax, and oscilla. As oft as any part of the body is hurt, as
the hand, foot, breast, we presently make a vow to God, and his saints,
to whom upon our recovery we make an offering of that hand or foot or
breast shaped in wax, which custom has so far obtained that this kind of
images have passed to the other animals. Wherefore so for an ox, so for
a horse, so for a sheep, we place puppets in the temples. In which thing
any modestly scrupulous person may perhaps say he knows not whether we
are rivalling the religion or the superstition of the ancients.’[993] In
modern Europe the custom prevails largely, but has perhaps somewhat
subsided into low levels of society, to judge by the general use of mock
silver and such-like worthless materials for the dedicated effigies. In
Christian as in præ-Christian temples, clouds of incense rise as of old.
Above all, though the ceremony of sacrifice did not form an original
part of Christian worship, its prominent place in the ritual was
obtained in early centuries. In that Christianity was recruited among
nations to whom the conception of sacrifice was among the deepest of
religious ideas, and the ceremony of sacrifice among the sincerest
efforts of worship, there arose an observance suited to supply the
vacant place. This result was obtained not by new introduction, but by
transmutation. The solemn eucharistic meal of the primitive Christians
in time assumed the name of the sacrifice of the mass, and was adapted
to a ceremonial in which an offering of food and drink is set out by a
priest on an altar in a temple, and consumed by priest and worshippers.
The natural conclusion of an ethnographic survey of sacrifice, is to
point to the controversy between Protestants and Catholics, for
centuries past one of the keenest which have divided the Christian
world, on this express question whether sacrifice is or is not a
Christian rite.
The next group of rites to be considered comprises Fasting and certain
other means of producing ecstasy and other morbid exaltation for
religious ends. In the foregoing researches on animism, it is frequently
observed or implied that the religious beliefs of the lower races are in
no small measure based on the evidence of visions and dreams, regarded
as actual intercourse with spiritual beings. From the earliest phases of
culture upward, we find religion in close alliance with ecstatic
physical conditions. These are brought on by various means of
interference with the healthy action of body and mind, and it is
scarcely needful to remind the reader that, according to philosophic
theories antecedent to those of modern medicine, such morbid
disturbances are explained as symptoms of divine visitation, or at least
of superhuman spirituality. Among the strongest means of disturbing the
functions of the mind so as to produce ecstatic vision, is fasting,
accompanied as it so usually is with other privations, and with
prolonged solitary contemplation in the desert or the forest. Among the
ordinary vicissitudes of savage life, the wild hunter has many a time to
try involuntarily the effects of such a life for days and weeks
together, and under these circumstances he soon comes to see and talk
with phantoms which are to him visible personal spirits. The secret of
spiritual intercourse thus learnt, he has thenceforth but to reproduce
the cause in order to renew the effects.
The rite of fasting, and the utter objective reality ascribed to what we
call its morbid symptoms, are shown in striking details among the savage
tribes of North America. Among the Indians (the accounts mostly refer to
the Algonquin tribes), long and rigorous fasting is enjoined among boys
and girls from a very early age; to be able to fast long is an enviable
distinction, and they will abstain from food three to seven days, or
even more, taking only a little water. During these fasts, especial
attention is paid to dreams. Thus Tanner tells the story of a certain
Net-no-kwa, who at twelve years old fasted ten successive days, till in
a dream a man came and stood before her, and after speaking of many
things gave her two sticks, saying, ‘I give you these to walk upon, and
your hair I give it to be like snow;’ this assurance of extreme old age
was through life a support to her in times of danger and distress. At
manhood the Indian lad, retiring to a solitary place to fast and
meditate and pray, receives visionary impressions which stamp his
character for life, and especially he waits till there appears to him in
a dream some animal or thing which will be henceforth his ‘medicine,’
the fetish-representative of his manitu or protecting genius. For
instance, an aged warrior who had thus in his youth dreamed of a bat
coming to him, wore the skin of a bat on the crown of his head
henceforth, and was all his life invulnerable to his enemies as a bat on
the wing. In after life, an Indian who wants anything will fast till he
has a dream that his manitu will grant it him. While the men are away
hunting, the children are sometimes made to fast, that in their dreams
they may obtain omens of the chase. Hunters fasting before an expedition
are informed in dreams of the haunts of the game, and the means of
appeasing the wrath of the bad spirits; if the dreamer fancies he sees
an Indian who has been long dead, and hears him say, ‘If thou wilt
sacrifice to me thou shalt shoot deer at pleasure,’ he will prepare a
sacrifice, and burn the whole or part of a deer, in honour of the
apparition. Especially the ‘meda’ or ‘medicine-man’ receives in fasts
much of his qualification for his sacred office. The Ojibwa prophetess,
known in after life as Catherine Wabose, in telling the story of her
early years, relates how at the age of womanhood she fasted in her
secluded lodge till she went up into the heavens and saw the spirit at
the entrance, the Bright Blue Sky; this was the first supernatural
communication of her prophetic career. The account given to Schoolcraft
by Chingwauk, an Algonquin chief deeply versed in the mystic lore and
picture-writing of his people, is as follows: ‘Chingwauk began by saying
that the ancient Indians made a great merit of fasting. They fasted
sometimes six or seven days, till both their bodies and minds became
free and light, which prepared them to dream. The object of the ancient
seers was to dream of the sun, as it was believed that such a dream
would enable them to see everything on the earth. And by fasting long
and thinking much on the subject, they generally succeeded. Fasts and
dreams were at first attempted at an early age. What a young man sees
and experiences during these dreams and fasts, is adopted by him as
truth, and it becomes a principle to regulate his future life. He relies
for success on these revelations. If he has been much favoured in his
fasts, and the people believe that he has the art of looking into
futurity, the path is open to the highest honours. The prophet, he
continued, begins to try his power in secret, with only one assistant,
whose testimony is necessary should he succeed. As he goes on, he puts
down the figures of his dreams and revelations, by symbols, on bark or
other material, till a whole winter is sometimes passed in pursuing the
subject, and he thus has a record of his principal revelations. If what
he predicts is verified, the assistant mentions it, and the record is
then appealed to as proof of his prophetic power and skill. Time
increases his fame. His _kee-keé-wins_, or records, are finally shown to
the old people, who meet together and consult upon them, for the whole
nation believe in these revelations. They in the end give their
approval, and declare that he is gifted as a prophet—is inspired with
wisdom, and is fit to lead the opinions of the nation. Such, he
concluded, was the ancient custom, and the celebrated old war-captains
rose to their power in this manner.’ It remains to say that among these
American tribes, the ‘jossakeed’ or soothsayer prepares himself by
fasting and the use of the sweating-bath for the state of convulsive
ecstasy in which he utters the dictates of his familiar spirits.[994]
The practice of fasting is described in other districts of the
uncultured world as carried on to produce similar ecstasy and
supernatural converse. The account by Roman Pane in the Life of Colon
describes the practice in Hayti of fasting to obtain knowledge of future
events from the spirits (cemi); and a century or two later, rigorous
fasting formed part of the apprentice’s preparation for the craft of
‘boyé’ or sorcerer, evoker, consulter, propitiator, and exorciser of
spirits.[995] The ‘keebèt’ or conjurers of the Abipones were believed by
the natives to be able to inflict disease and death, cure all disorders,
make known distant and future events, cause rain, hail, and tempests,
call up the shades of the dead, put on the form of tigers, handle
serpents unharmed, &c. These powers were imparted by diabolical
assistance, and Father Dobrizhoffer thus describes the manner of
obtaining them:—‘Those who aspire to the office of juggler are said to
sit upon an aged willow, overhanging some lake, and to abstain from food
for several days, till they begin to see into futurity. It always
appeared probable to me that these rogues, from long fasting, contract a
weakness of brain, a giddiness, and kind of delirium, which makes them
imagine that they are gifted with superior wisdom, and give themselves
out for magicians. They impose upon themselves first, and afterwards
upon others.’[996] The Malay, to make himself invulnerable, retires for
three days to solitude and scanty food in the jungle, and if on the
third day he dreams of a beautiful spirit descending to speak to him,
the charm is worked.[997] The Zulu doctor qualifies himself for
intercourse with the ‘amadhlozi,’ or ghosts, from whom he is to obtain
direction in his craft, by spare abstemious diet, want, suffering,
castigation, and solitary wandering, till fainting fits or coma bring
him into direct intercourse with the spirits. These native diviners fast
often, and are worn out by fastings, sometimes of several days’
duration, when they become partially or wholly ecstatic, and see
visions. So thoroughly is the connexion between fasting and spiritual
intercourse acknowledged by the Zulus, that it has become a saying among
them, ‘The continually stuffed body cannot see secret things.’ They have
no faith in a fat prophet.[998]
The effects thus looked for and attained by fasting among uncultured
tribes continue into the midst of advanced civilization. No wonder that,
in the Hindu tale, king Vasavadatta and his queen after a solemn penance
and a three days’ fast should see Siva in a dream and receive his
gracious tidings; no wonder that, in the actual experience of to-day,
the Hindu yogi should bring on by fasting a state in which he can with
bodily eyes behold the gods.[999] The Greek oracle-priests recognized
fasting as a means of bringing on prophetic dreams and visions; the
Pythia of Delphi herself fasted for inspiration; Galen remarks that
fasting dreams are the clearer.[1000] Through after ages, both cause and
consequence have held their places in Christendom. Thus Michael the
Archangel, with sword in right hand and scales in left, appears to a
certain priest of Siponte, who during a twelvemonth’s course of prayer
and fasting had been asking if he would have a temple built in his
honour:—
‘precibus jejunia longis
Addiderat, totoque orans se afflixerat anno.’[1001]
Reading the narratives of the wondrous sights seen by St. Theresa and
her companions, how the saint went in spirit into hell and saw the
darkness and fire and unutterable despair, how she had often by her side
her good patrons Peter and Paul, how when she was raised in rapture
above the grate at the nunnery where she was to take the sacrament,
Sister Mary Baptist and others being present, they saw an angel by her
with a golden fiery dart at the end whereof was a little fire, and he
thrust it through her heart and bowels and pulled them out with it,
leaving her wholly inflamed with a great love of God—the modern reader
naturally looks for details of physical condition and habit of life
among the sisterhood, and as naturally finds that St. Theresa was of
morbid constitution and subject to trances from her childhood, in after
life subduing her flesh by long watchings and religious discipline, and
keeping severe fast during eight months of the year.[1002] It is
needless to multiply such mediæval records of fasts which have produced
their natural effects in beatific vision—are they not written page after
page in the huge folios of the Bollandists? So long as fasting is
continued as a religious rite, so long its consequences in morbid mental
exaltation will continue the old and savage doctrine that morbid
phantasy is supernatural experience. Bread and meat would have robbed
the ascetic of many an angel’s visit; the opening of the refectory door
must many a time have closed the gates of heaven to his gaze.
It is indeed not the complete theory of fasting as a religious rite, but
only an important and perhaps original part of it, that here comes into
view. Abstinence from food has a principal place among acts of
self-mortification or penance, a province of religious ordinance into
which the present argument scarcely enters. Looking at the practice of
fasting here from an animistic point of view, as a process of bringing
on dreams and visions, it will be well to mention with it certain other
means by which ecstatic phenomena are habitually induced.
One of these means is the use of drugs. In the West India Islands at the
time of the discovery, Columbus describes the religious ceremony of
placing a platter containing ‘cohoba’ powder on the head of the idol,
the worshippers then snuffing up this powder through a cane with two
branches put to the nose. Pane further describes how the native priest,
when brought to a sick man, would put himself in communication with the
spirits by thus snuffing cohoba, ‘which makes him drunk, that he knows
not what he does, and so says many extraordinary things, wherein they
affirm that they are talking with the cemis, and that from them it is
told them that the infirmity came.’ On the Amazons, the Omaguas have
continued to modern times the use of narcotic plants, producing an
intoxication lasting twenty-four hours, during which they are subject to
extraordinary visions; from one of these plants they obtain the ‘curupa’
powder which they snuff into their nostrils with a Y-shaped reed.[1003]
Here the similar names and uses of the drug plainly show historical
connexion between the Omaguas and the Antilles islanders. The
Californian Indians would give children narcotic potions, in order to
gain from the ensuing visions information about their enemies; and thus
the Mundrucus of North Brazil, desiring to discover murderers, would
administer such drinks to seers, in whose dreams the criminals
appeared.[1004] The Darien Indians used the seeds of the Datura
sanguinea to bring on in children prophetic delirium, in which they
revealed hidden treasure. In Peru the priests who talked with the
‘huaca’ or fetishes used to throw themselves into an ecstatic condition
by a narcotic drink called ‘tonca,’ made from the same plant, whence its
name of ‘huacacacha’ or fetish-herb.[1005] The Mexican priests also
appear to have used an ointment or drink made with seeds of
‘ololiuhqui,’ which produced delirium and visions.[1006] In both
Americas tobacco served for such purposes. It must be noticed that
smoking is more or less practised among native races to produce full
intoxication, the smoke being swallowed for the purpose. By smoking
tobacco, the sorcerers of Brazilian tribes raised themselves to ecstasy
in their convulsive orgies, and saw spirits; no wonder tobacco came to
be called the ‘holy herb.’[1007] So North American Indians held
intoxication by tobacco to be supernatural ecstasy, and the dreams of
men in this state to be inspired.[1008] This idea may explain a
remarkable proceeding of the Delaware Indians. At their festival in
honour of the Fire-god with his twelve attendant manitus, inside the
house of sacrifice a small oven-hut was set up, consisting of twelve
poles tied together at the top and covered with blankets, high enough
for a man to stand nearly upright within it. After the feast this oven
was heated with twelve red-hot stones, and twelve men crept inside. An
old man threw twelve pipefulls of tobacco on these stones, and when the
patients had borne to the utmost the heat and suffocating smoke, they
were taken out, generally falling in a swoon.[1009] This practice, which
was carried on in the last century, is remarkable for its coincidence
with the Scythian mode of purification after a funeral, as described by
Herodotus. He relates that they make their hut with three stakes sloping
together at the top and covered in with wooden felts; then they cast
red-hot stones into a trough placed within and throw hemp-seed on them,
which sends forth fumes such as no Greek vapour-bath could exceed, and
the Scyths in their sweating-hut roar with delight.[1010]
Not to dwell on the ancient Aryan deification of an intoxicating drink,
the original of the divine Soma of the Hindus and the divine Haoma of
the Parsis, nor on the drunken orgies of the worship of Dionysos in
ancient Greece, we find more exact Old World analogues of the ecstatic
medicaments used in the lower culture. Such are the decoctions of
thalassægle which Pliny speaks of as drunk to produce delirium and
visions; the drugs mentioned by Hesychius, whereby Hekate was evoked;
the mediæval witch-ointments which brought visionary beings into the
presence of the patient, transported him to the witches’ sabbath,
enabled him to turn into a beast.[1011] The survival of such practices
is most thorough among the Persian dervishes of our own day. These
mystics are not only opium-eaters, like so large a proportion of their
countrymen; they are hashish-smokers, and the effect of this drug is to
bring them into a state of exaltation passing into utter hallucination.
To a patient in this condition, says Dr. Polak, a little stone in the
road will seem a great block that he must stride over; a gutter becomes
a wide stream to his eyes, and he calls for a boat to ferry him across;
men’s voices sound like thunder in his ears; he fancies he has wings and
can rise from the ground. These ecstatic effects, in which miracle is
matter of hourly experience, are considered in Persia as high religious
developments; the visionaries and their rites are looked on as holy, and
they make converts.[1012]