BELIEFS ABOUT GOD.
ARTICLES 1-107.
The following statements on the Ethology or the customs of these races
are taken from the very words of the natives themselves. Natives are
generally quite agreed as to what their customs are. Where they gave
different views I have noted both, after finding that both had real
authority. I do not think I have admitted any point of importance without
having heard at least four natives on the subject. The statements are
translations, as far as possible, from the _ipsissima verba_ of the
negroes.
1.—THE NATURE OF MAN.
An ancient philosopher was asked by his friends when he was dying what
they should do with him after his death. “All very well,” was the reply,
“if you can catch me.” The Materialist tells us that there is nothing to
catch, that there is nothing that runs away from the body at death, but
the Spiritualist says, “You have only the remains of the man there—only
the instrument that he used to work with”.
What is the position of these African tribes with regard to this
question? They are unanimous in saying that there is something beyond the
body which they call spirit (lisoka) or pure spirit (lisokape). Every
human body at death is forsaken by this spirit; but the spirit of a child
that dies about four or five days’ of age gets nothing of the usual
attention (45).
2.—IMMORTALITY.
“Do these spirits ever die?” Some I have heard affirm that it is possible
for a troublesome spirit to be killed (5, 4). Others give this a direct
denial. Many like Kumpama of Cherasulo say, “You ask me whether a man’s
spirit ever dies. I cannot tell. I have never been in the spirit world,
but this I am certain of, that spirits live for a very long time.” This
is a good specimen of cautious answers that the natives often give, and
it expresses the belief that they act on with reference to departed
spirits.
3.—WHO THE GODS ARE.
In all our translations of Scripture where we found the word GOD we used
_Mulungu_, but this word is chiefly used by the natives as a general name
for spirit. The spirit of a deceased man is called his Mulungu, and all
the prayers and offerings of the living are presented to such spirits
of the dead. It is here that we find the great centre of the native
religion. The spirits of the dead are the gods of the living.
Besides lisoka (1) and mulungu there is another word for spirit, viz.,
_msimu_, which is much used in reference to offerings.
4.—WHERE THEY ARE FOUND.
Where are these gods found? At the grave? No. The villagers shrink from
yonder gloomy place that lies far beyond their fields on the bleak
mountain side. It is only when they have to lay another sleeper beside
his forefathers that they will go there. Their god is not the body in
the grave, but the spirit, and they seek this spirit at the place where
their departed kinsman last lived among them. It is the great tree at the
verandah (_kwipenu_) of the dead man’s house that is their temple, and
if no tree grow here they erect a little shade, and there perform their
simple rites. If this spot become too public the offerings may be denied
(40), and the sanctuary will be removed to a carefully-selected spot
under some beautiful tree. Very frequently a man presents an offering at
the top of his own bed beside his head. He wishes his god to come to him
and whisper in his ear as he sleeps.
These gods are not confined to one place. In answer to prayer they can
protect a man during a long journey, and return with him in peace. When
all the villagers are driven from their homes by war these spirits have
power to go with them to a new village. The spirit of an old chief may
have a whole mountain for his residence, but he dwells chiefly on the
cloudy summit. There he sits to receive the worship of his votaries, and
to send down the refreshing showers in answer to their prayers.
5.—HOW THE GODS GIVE EVIDENCE OF THEIR EXISTENCE.
How do the natives know that these gods attend to them? How do they judge
that their deceased ancestors can see them through the darkness of the
grave?
(1) They judge from the way in which prayers have been answered. If they
pray for a successful hunting expedition and return laden with venison or
ivory, they know that it is their old relative that has done it, and they
give him a thank offering. If the hunting party get nothing, they may say
“the spirit has been sulky with us” (_akwete lupuso_), and refuse the
thank-offering.
(2) Besides this, their god appears to them in dreams. They may see him
as they knew him in days gone by. When they dream of the living there
is nothing wonderful in that; but when they dream of the dead it is the
departed spirit come to visit them. Such a dream impresses them very
much. That being is altogether different since he entered the spirit
world. Now he is a god with power to watch over them, and help them, and
control their destiny.
(3) The appearance of the gods in dreams is still too hazy. Their
craving for clearer manifestations of the deity is satisfied through the
prophetess (_juakuweweta_). She may be the principal wife of the chief;
in some cases a woman without a husband will be set apart for the god.
The god comes to her with his commands at night. She delivers the
message in a kind of ecstacy. She speaks (as her name implies) with the
utterance of a person raving with excitement. During the night of the
communication her ravings are heard sounding all over the village in a
high key.
The whole hamlet is wrapt in slumber, when all at once the midnight
stillness is broken by those mad shrieks. The startled inhabitants think
it is war—slavers have come—their first impulse is to run away. Their
fear soon subsides. It is the prophetess. They are anxious to hear what
she has to say, and return to bed again. Or there may be a great meeting
in the morning, when the prophetess appears—her head encircled with bhang
or Indian hemp, and her arms cut as if for new tatoos.
Various gods reveal themselves thus in various places, either local
deities (11), like Mbona of Cholo, or more ordinary gods (25-28).
(4) The gods may appear in animal forms. Some spirits may appear for
mischief. If a dead man wants to frighten his wife he may persist in
coming as a serpent. The only remedy for this is to kill the serpent,
when some go so far as to say that this troublesome spirit is dead, but
others say that though the trouble is ended the god is only reduced to a
pure spirit (lisokape).
6.—DISTINCTIONS AFFECTING THE GODS.
It is usual to distinguish between the spirit and the form it takes.
A spirit often appears as a serpent. When a man kills a serpent thus
belonging to a spirit, he goes and makes an apology to the offended god,
saying, “Please, please, I did not know that it was your serpent”. The
departed may assume the form of other animals. A great hunter generally
takes the form of a lion or a leopard; and all witches (_asawi_) seem to
like the form of a hyena.
There is also a distinction between the spirit and the spirit’s
messenger. The spirit, it is said, will not take the form of a bird,
but will send a bird with its message. We have this well illustrated in
the legend about Che Mlóngolo, which became so popular amongst us at
Blantyre. A little boy was allowed by his father to accompany a caravan
to the coast; he picked up some curiosities, for which an Arab gave him
exceedingly beautiful cloth. His uncle coveted the cloth, abused the boy
very much, and ultimately killed him. A little bird flew to his home at
the village, and sang on the trees to the women as they pounded their
corn, “Ti, ti, ti, diridya; Ti, ti, ti, diridya, they have slain Che
Mlóngolo because of his cloth”.
7.—THE PRIESTS.
A certain amount of etiquette is observed in approaching the gods. In no
case can a little boy or girl approach these deities, neither can any
one that has not been at the mysteries (52). The common qualification is
that a person has attained a certain age, about 12 or 14 years, and has a
house of his own. Slaves seldom pray, except when they have had a dream.
Children that have had a dream tell their mother, who approaches the
deity on their behalf. (A present for the god is necessary, and the slave
or child may not have it.)
Apart from the case of dreams and a few such private matters, it is not
usual for anyone to approach the gods except the chief of the village.
He is the recognised high priest who presents prayers and offerings on
behalf of all that live in his village. If the chief is from home his
wife will act, and if both are absent, his younger brother (mpwao). The
natives worship not so much individually as in villages or communities.
Their religion is more a public than a private matter.
When we went to Blantyre we were accompanied by two small boys that had
lived in Quilimane. One night after we were in bed we were startled by
a terrible screaming. This was heard by a friend who lived in another
house at a short distance from ours, and he came to us judging that we
had among us at least a leopard. But the screams were found to have
a different cause. The younger boy wished to carry into practice our
exhortations about prayer, and for this purpose knelt down on his little
mat or bed. The older was more cumbered with much serving, like Martha.
He wanted to make his bed tidy, and without ceremony threw the little
worshipper off the mat, telling him that it was not proper for him to
pray, as he was not a white man (msungu). The rudeness gave rise to
fighting and screaming. We mention the incident to show that the bigger
boy would hold that he belonged to the village of the white man, and that
the white man ought to approach the gods on his behalf.
The chief of a village has another title to the priesthood. It is his
relatives that are the village gods. Everyone that lives in the village
recognises these gods; but if anyone remove to another village he changes
his gods. He recognises now the gods of his new chief. One wishing to
pray to the god (or gods) of any village naturally desires to have his
prayers presented through the village chief, because the latter is nearly
related to the village god, and may be expected to be better listened to
than a stranger.
8.—VILLAGE GODS.
On the subject of the village gods opinions differ. Some say that every
one in the village, whether a relative of the chief or not, must worship
the forefathers of the chief. Others say that a person not related to
the chief must worship his own forefathers, otherwise their spirits will
bring trouble upon him. To reconcile these authorities we may mention
that nearly every one in the village is related to its chief, or if
not related is, in courtesy, considered so. Any person not related to
the village chief would be polite enough on all public occasions to
recognise the village god: on occasions of private prayer (which are not
so numerous as in Christendom) he would approach the spirits of his own
forefathers.
Besides, there might be a god of the land. The chief Kapeni prays to his
own relatives, and also to the old gods of the place. His own relatives
he approaches himself, the other deities he may also approach himself,
but he often finds people more closely related, and consequently more
acceptable (7) to the old gods of the land.
9.—MONOTHEISM, POLYTHEISM, OR PANTHEISM?
After we have settled that there is an object of worship, there are
still a great many different positions to hold. We might be Pantheists,
Polytheists, or Monotheists.
The position of Pantheism is seldom indicated by natives when describing
their religion. We once thought that the class of nouns (in the native
language) that _Mulungu_ belongs to was an argument in favour of their
Pantheism. One class of native nouns is nearly co-extensive with human
beings, and Mulungu is not in this class. But the argument at best is
weak.
While Mulungu means a spirit, it may also be used as a proper name.
There are two classes of expressions where it is used as a proper name.
The first class points to a kind of Pantheism. Mulungu is said to be
“the great spirit (msimu) of all men, a spirit formed by adding all the
departed spirits together”. These and various other expressions of the
same kind indicate a grasping after a being who is the totality of all
individual existence, and are not unworthy of notice. If they fell from
the lips of civilised men instead of savages they would be regarded
as philosophy. Expressions of this kind among the natives are partly
traditional, and partly dictated by the big thoughts of the moment. The
second class of expressions where we have Mulungu used as a proper
name certainly points to a personal being. By the Wayao he is sometimes
said to be the same as Mtanga (12). At other times he is a Being that
possesses many powerful servants; but is himself kept a good deal beyond
the scene of earthly affairs, like the gods of Epicurus. In the native
hypotheses about creation “the people of Mulungu” (wa ku Mulungu) play a
very important part. This Mulungu in the spiritual world—the world beyond
the grave—is represented as assigning to spirits their various places. He
arranges them in rows or tiers.
After making an induction of all that we have heard about Mulungu
(carefully excluding, of course, every statement that seemed to be in the
least modified by Christian teaching), we should say that their religion
in its worship was practically Polytheism. At the same time the spirits
are often asked to act as mediators with some higher being. Beyond their
Polytheism their language contains a few expressions that remind us of
Pantheism, and a great many that speak to us of Monotheism.
The derivation of the word Mulungu throws some light on the subject.
Henry Salt (1814) says that among the Makuas it means “the sky”.
We have heard Yao expressions that would prepare us to accept this
interpretation; and the Yao word may be sometimes used for rainbow (which
is either Mulungu or ukunje wa Mulungu): it is singular too that Chilungu
means earthquake. We think a more correct view lies in the derivation
stated by Bleek, which makes it originally mean “great ancestor”.
10.—NUMBER OF THE NATIVES’ GODS.
We saw that every human being has a Mulungu or spirit (2). This position
every native will uphold, except perhaps in the case of a young child who
has not reached six days of age, and has not been formally introduced
into the world or “taken out of the house” (kopoka m’ nyumba) (44). If a
child of six days has been introduced into the world though only a day
before its death, its spirit is entitled to offerings, and receives these
offerings at least from its parents. When the little child meets the
parents beyond the grave it will say, “You remembered me; I saw what you
were doing”.
The spirit of every deceased man and woman, with the solitary exception
of wizards and witches becomes an object of religious homage.
The gods of the natives then are nearly as numerous as their dead. It
is impossible to worship all; a selection must be made, and, as we
have indicated, each worshipper turns most naturally to the spirits
of his own departed relatives; but his gods are too many still, and
in farther selecting he turns to those that have lived nearest his
own time. Thus the chief of a village will not trouble himself about
his great-great-grandfather; he will present his offering to his
own immediate predecessor, and say, “Oh, father, I do not know all
your relatives, you know them all, invite them to feast with you”.
The offering is not simply for himself, but for himself and all his
relatives. We ask him, “What if they quarrel with the other relatives
about their share of the feast?” “Let them quarrel,” he replies, “I have
given them enough.”
_Key to their view of the Spirit World._
We may think that the native chief in selecting his predecessor alone,
has left all the rest of the people that once lived in his village
without any homage. Here we encounter an important native view that a
chief represents and is responsible for all his people. If any one wish
to treat with a native village it is with the village chief that he
must deal. If we give a present to a village it is to the village chief
that we must give it. This does not prevent us from giving presents to
any other individual. So it is in the world beyond, which the natives
conceive to be peopled in the same way as this world. There the old chief
has his wives and slaves and companions about him as of yore. To the
natives death is the time when they, in like manner, shall be literally
“gathered to their fathers”.
_Nature of Offerings._
The man that makes an offering regards himself as giving a present
(mtuka) to a little village of the departed which is headed by its chief.
Those that are best known to the offerer may get a present themselves,
but they will be expected to call the attention of the chief when a
public present arrives.
11.—LOCAL DEITIES.
We have seen that people residing in a village worship their deceased
chief, but when their present chief dies he will become the principal
god; more distant relatives give place to successors. But a great chief
that has been successful in his wars does not pass out of memory so soon.
He may become the god of a mountain or a lake, and may receive homage
as a local deity long after his own descendants have been driven from
the spot. When there is a supplication for rain the inhabitants of the
country pray not so much to their own forefathers as to the god of yonder
mountain on whose shoulders the great rain clouds repose. (Smaller hills
are seldom honoured with a deity.)
The god of Mount Sochi is Kangomba. One tradition regarding him is
this—When the Wayao were driving the Wanyasa out of the country,
Kangomba, a Wanyasa chief, saw that defence was hopeless, and entered a
great cave on the mountain side. Out of this cave he never returned; “he
died unconquered in his own land”. The Wayao made the old tribe retire
before them, but the chief Kangomba kept his place, and the new comers
are glad to invoke his aid to this day. Their supplication for rain takes
the form (Ku Sochi, kwa Kangomba ula jijise) “Oh, Kangomba of Sochi, send
us rain”. The Wayao chief Kapeni often asks some of the Wanyasa tribe
that can trace connection with Kangomba to help him in these offerings
and supplications (7).
12.—SUPERIOR DEITIES.
Beyond and above the spirits of their fathers, and chiefs localised on
hills, the Wayao speak of others that they consider superior. Only their
home is more associated with the country which the Yao left; so that they
too at one time may have been looked upon really as local deities. Among
these other beings are Mtanga and Chitowe.
_Mtanga_ some distinctly localise as the god of Mangochi, the great hill
that the Yao people left. I regret much that I did not see this hill
before leaving Africa, as I have heard so much of it. To these people
it is all that the many-ridged Olympus was to the Greeks. The voice of
Mtanga, some hold, is still audible on Mangochi. Others say that Mtanga
was never a man, and that Mtanga is another word for Mulungu. He was
concerned in the first introduction of men into the world (13). He gets
credit also for supplying people with seeds, and making mountains and
rivers. He is intimately associated with a year of plenty. He is called
_Mchimwene juene_ (very chief).
_Chitowe_ (Siluwi) has not such a good character. He is associated with
famine. He is often represented as having one leg, one arm, one side of
his nose, and so on—the other half of his body being supplied by beeswax.
He is invoked by the women on the day of initiating (kuumbala) their
fields. The women of a village form a great procession when the new crop
has begun to grow. They chant a hymn to Chitowe, imploring him on behalf
of their crops. Chitowe may become a child or a young woman. In this
disguise he visits villages, and tells whether the coming year will bring
food or famine. He receives their hospitality, but throws the food over
his shoulder without eating it. Chitowe is a child or subject of Mtanga,
and some speak of several Chitowe who are messengers of Mtanga.
_Mpambe_ is often invoked by the Anyasa at great supplications for rain.
This Mpambe in the Yao language is “Njasi,” in English “Lightning”. The
Yao say that Mpambe is sent by Mtanga with rain. This is a mythological
expression of the fact that the lightning in this quarter is always
associated with rain.
This last example shows how natural it is for man to deify the powers he
sees around him. At first he is greatly touched with all the emotions of
“wonder, love, and awe,” as he considers how much he is indebted to the
shower that makes his food grow. He is ready to fall down and worship.
What shall he worship? The mountain whose lofty summit is clothed with
the rain cloud, or the lightning that springs from the cloud? He goes
over everything he can fairly associate with the rain, and still he is
not satisfied—he craves for something that can understand him.
He looks back to the days of his youth. He remembers a grandfather who
told how he had fled from the face of an oppressor, how he had built his
home far up near the mountain top, and there brought up his family in
safety. By and by as dangers passed away, this ancestor moved farther
down the mountain; gradually he increased in power, and in his old age
found himself the chief of a clan. Yet he never forgot the days of his
adventure, and ever pointed proudly to the spot where he had first found
a shelter; and his children’s children, as they listened to the old man’s
tale, counted the ground holy. The days come when they can see the old
man no more. “But does he not still exist? Yea—did we not hear his words
as we listened to sounds that played about the mountain side? Did we not
see him, though it was but for a moment, sitting beside his own home as
he used to sit long ago? He wore the very same dress. Did he not appear
to us in our dreams? There, too, we saw him moving beside his old home.
Yes, he is living on our mountain still.[6] He is taking care of us. He
knows when we need rain, and he sends it. We must give him something;
when he had corn he always gave us. Now, the poor man has no crop; but
perhaps his needs are many. We will give him food, we will give him
slaves, and he will not forget us.”
There is something full of pathos in the sight of a man invoking his
deceased relatives. He has got into great difficulty. None of his friends
can assist him, they hardly sympathise with him. His thoughts turn to
days when he had no difficulty, to the bright period of which, heathen
that he is, he can say, “Heaven is about us in our infancy”. He is so
sure that if he only had the grey-headed man that smiled on him then, all
his difficulties would vanish. That man could understand him, and believe
good of him as he did long ago. Could he but reach him across the portals
of the grave all would be well. Thus, with great earnestness, the native
turns to the spirits of his fathers.
13.—THE CREATION—COSMOLOGY.
The existence of the world itself is accepted as a fact not to be
explained. But there are legends that explain the introduction of the
sun, moon, and stars, clouds and rain; as also how mountains and rivers
appeared on the scene. Man, or at least the father of these central
tribes, sprang from a hole in a rock, from which the lower animals came
also. Around this hole there were abundant footprints of all kinds of
animals. It was closed by the people of Mulungu, and is now in a desert
place ‘towards the north’ (kumpoto). Subsequent to the appearance of man,
many changes occurred specially calculated for his benefit. Thus the
mist was sent to keep the sun from burning up the crops—an arrangement
that would readily commend itself to these philosophical children of the
tropics.
Their legends go on to state that the Wayao, Anyasa, Angulu, Awisa
and others sprang from a common stock, and to explain how the tribes
separated through one going to one side of the country and another to
another. The chief cause of such separations is said to be war. The Zulus
and the English belong, they say, to a different stock; where they came
from the natives cannot tell. They have a legend about Zulus (Mangoni)
coming out in great swarms near a large river; and another legend about a
black man crossing a bridge, as he looked round he was greatly astonished
to find that a white man (msungu) was following him. The white men are
represented as having staid longer with the people of God (Mulungu),
and learned more than the black men. With all due deference to the
toothless old man who told me that the Zulus are different from the Yao,
I am strongly of opinion that although their languages are not mutually
intelligible now, there was a time when their forefathers played together
by the same streams and hills; but this time is more remote than his
legend, which only explained when the Wanyasa separated from his tribe.