CHAPTER II

THE PROGRESS OF MYTHIC SCIENCE

Many are the hypotheses and systems advanced to account for the origin

and existence of myth. It will greatly assist our comprehension of

these and our ability to discern those most worthy of consideration if

we examine them chronologically as well as critically. If we begin our

review with the gropings of the first far-off thinkers who attempted

an analysis of myth, and put to themselves the question "What is myth,

its origin and its meaning?" and advance through the centuries until

we encounter present-day theories, then we should be well equipped to

pursue our course without fear of the pitfalls encountered by early

writers on tradition, or, let us hope, of falling into the grave errors

inevitable when mythological data were less plentiful than at the

present time.

It must be clearly understood that this sketch does not deal with

the _makers_ or restorers of myth, but with the views and notions of

critics who have sought to discover its nature and meaning. Again, we

would remind the reader that we are not dealing with religious science,

but with such mythological notions as have come down to us from early

times to the present.[1]

The first critic of myth was Xenophanes of Colophon (_fl._ 540-500

B.C.), an Ionian exile in Sicily, afterward living at Elea, in

Southern Italy. He supported himself by travelling from place to

place and reciting his own poems. The important part of his writings

for us is that in which he attacks the polytheism prevalent in his

day. Xenophanes did not accept the mythical idea of man-like deities

then current. "There is one God, greatest among gods and men," he

writes, "neither in shape nor in thought like unto mortals ... yet men

imagine gods to be born and to have raiment and voice and body, like

themselves.... Even so oxen, lions, and horses, if they had hands to

grave images, would fashion gods after their own shapes and make them

bodies like to their own." Again he says: "The rainbow, which men call

Iris,[2] is a cloud." Xenophanes appears by his writings to have taken

up the position of a theologian protesting not against polytheism,

but against the idea that the gods possessed human appearance and

attributes. Besides the one great god he seems to have recognized a

plurality of minor divinities who govern portions of the universe. He

stigmatized anthropomorphic myths as "the fables of men of old."

Theagenes of Rhegium was the founder of a very popular system of

mythology. He pleaded for an allegorical rather than a literal reading

of myth. For example, as we have already mentioned, he considered the

battle of the gods 'unbecoming,' and attempted to show that in reality

it was an allegorical rendering of the war of the elements. According

to his view, Hephæstus and Apollo personified fire; Hera, wife of Zeus,

was air; Poseidon, the sea-god, represented water; Artemis was the

moon, and so on. Other gods, he attempted to show by an examination of

their names, were personifications of moral or intellectual qualities.

Pherecydes of Syros (_fl_. sixth century B.C.) wrote a treatise, in

which myth, allegory, and science were blended, on nature and the gods.

He contended that the elements of fire, air, and water sprang from

Cronus, the principle of time, and that from these elements later gods

emerged. Zeus is called the 'principle of life,' so that we have in

Pherecydes' interpretation of myth a pseudo-scientific idea that time

was the originator of the elements, from which in turn the gods had

their being--a very daring hypothesis for the sixth century B.C.!

Hecatæus of Miletus (_c_. 550-476 B.C.) was probably the first critic

to distinguish myth from historic fact Socrates (_c_. 471-399 B.C.)

attempted to show that the nature of divine beings could be discovered

by an analysis of their names. Prodicus (born _c_. 465 B.C.) is

noteworthy for the 'modern' character of his outlook. First of all,

he says, arose such great powers as benefit mankind (for example, the

Nile), then deified men, who rendered services to humanity.

Pherecydes of Leros (_fl. c_. 454 B.C.) modified the myths of Greece

in order to adjust them to popular belief, so that it is scarcely

correct to class him as a critic of myth. Ephorus (_c_. 400-330 B.C.)

treated myths as historical episodes. "By straining after this fancied

history he was prevented from searching into the genuine import of the

legends."[3]

EUHEMERUS

The system of Euhemerus (fourth century B.C.), who lived under King

Cassander of Macedonia, deserves more than passing mention. Like

Ephorus, he considered that myth is history in disguise. The gods

were men, and mists of time and later phantasy had so magnified and

distorted their figures as to make them appear divine. In short, they

were great men deified by later generations. The dead are magnified

into gods in many countries, so Euhemerus' theory possesses a good

deal of truth, but every god was not once a man, nor have all gods

been evolved from the worship of the dead. The truth is that the

myths of many gods have passed through a phase and have been coloured

by an environment in which ancestor-worship has prevailed. Graves

of gods are shown in many lands, and probably portions of legends

relating to real men have been attracted into the myths of certain

gods. Euhemerus' system of interpretation is known as 'euhemerism,'

and was adopted by Vossius, the Abbé Banier, Huet Bishop of Avranches,

Clavier, Sainte-Croix, Rochette, Hoffman, and to some extent by Herbert

Spencer. Ennius popularized his system in ancient Rome. Leclerc, one

of Euhemerus' later disciples, actually proposed the theory that Greek

mythology consisted of the diaries of old merchantmen and seamen!

Some Stoics and Platonists, such as Plutarch, endeavoured to render

myths more intelligible by explaining them 'pragmatically,' and this

system too saw in the gods of Greece kings or merely men. Another

system, the 'Psychic,' believed myth to be explanatory of the various

stages through which the soul must pass. Other Stoics, again, saw

in myths reference to natural phenomena. Thus the first school, the

'Pragmatic,' would see in the figure of Pallas Athene a transfigured

mortal queen; the second, the 'Psychic,' would explain her as the

'understanding,' and the third, the 'Stoic,' as the thicker air between

moon and earth.

Driven to the wall by Christianity, the remaining believers in

Greek myth attempted to justify it by the allegorical system of

interpretation. The early Christian fathers like St Augustine (A.D.

354-430) applauded the system of Euhemerus, in which they beheld the

abhorred mythology abandoned by one himself a pagan. Porphyry (A.D.

233-304), however, considered that there might be a moral meaning

in myth, and others thought it possible that it concealed a germ of

religious truth.

MEDIEVAL MYTHOLOGY

The Middle Ages produced no criticism of myth worthy of attention.

Popular belief in medieval times regarded the gods and goddesses of

antiquity as of diabolic origin, or at least as 'pagans' who had been

relegated to Hell on the advent of Christianity. This view was, of

course, sedulously supported by the priesthood, as may be seen in the

medieval legend of Tannhäuser. Prior to the Renaissance period, with

its revival of classical studies, the gods of Greece and Rome were

frequently confused or identified with other pagan deities and even

with religious leaders like Mohammed, as, for instance, in the phrase

'Mahound and Termagent,' which alludes to the pairing of Mohammed and

Tyr, or Tyr Magus, a Scandinavian divinity. In _The King of Tars_, an

English romance, probably of the fourteenth century, we read how the

Sultan of Damascus destroyed his idols, "with sterne strokes and with

grete, on Jovyn and Plotoun, on Astrot and sire Jovyn." Here Roman and

Semitic deities are mingled in "hideous ruin," like the wicked angels

of Milton, whose poem, by the way, encouraged a later belief that the

Arch-fiend and his associates were no other than the gods of the elder

faiths, Beelzebub, Belial, and, among others,

Osiris, Isis, Orus and their train.

An old Scots piece, entitled _Sir John Rowll's Cursings_ dating perhaps

from the last quarter of the fifteenth century, and in all probability

written by a priest of Corstorphine, near Edinburgh, contains several

interesting allusions which show the condition of mythological

knowledge at that day. It is directed against certain persons who have

rifled the priest's poultry-yard. Sir John is powerful in anathema, and

his thunders must have caused trepidation among the more superstitious

of his parishioners, but the only lines of his rhymed 'Billingsgate'

apposite here are those containing the names of demons, because these

show us how the mythic characters of antiquity were regarded in his

time. He says that the pilferers of his hen-roosts will be hanged and

given to the fiend, and continues:

... and Cerberus thair banis sall knaw

For thair dispyt of the Kirkis law,

Gog and Magog and grym Garog,

The Devill of hell the theif Harog,

Sym Skynar and St Garnega,

Julius appostata,

Prince Pluto and quene Cokatrice,

Devetinus the devill that maid the dyce,

Cokadame and Semiamis,

Fyremouth and Tutivillus,

And Browny als that can play kow[4]

Behind the claith wt mony mow.[5]

All this about the beir salbe[6]

Singand ane dolorous dergie.

Let us try to identify some of these figures. We may pass over

Cerberus, and Gog Magog, who has by this date evidently resolved

himself into two separate individuals. In Harog we probably see that

'Old Harry' who is so frequently apostrophized, perhaps a variant

of the Norse god Odin. In Sym Skynar we may have Skrymir, the Norse

giant in whose glove Thor found shelter from an earthquake, and who

sadly fooled him and his companions. Skrymir was, of course, one of

the Jötunn, or Norse Titans, and probably one of the powers of winter;

and he may have received the popular name of 'Sym' in the same manner

as we speak of 'Jack' Frost. Julius the Apostate, Pluto, and the

Cokatrice are easily identified. Semiamis is, of course, Semiramis,

and it was quite possible that the Babylonian queen bulked in the

popular imagination as an Eastern goddess, fit companion for Mahound or

Mohammed.

EIGHTEENTH-CENTURY MYTHOLOGERS

The study of myth can hardly be considered scientific in our modern

sense until nearly the end of the eighteenth century. During the

seventeenth century and the early portion of the eighteenth works were

published from time to time which professed to give an outline of the

myths of Greece and Rome, but in these the critical spirit was almost

entirely absent. Francis Bacon (1561-1626) leaned to the allegorical

interpretation of myth. Thus, Narcissus was self-love, Dionysus

passion, and the Sphinx science. Natalis Comes (_d_. 1582) saw in myth

allegories of natural and moral philosophy. The first writer to strike

upon the true line of interpretation was De Brosses (1709-1777), who in

1760 published a work, _Du culte des dieux fétiches, ou parallèle de

l'ancienne religion de l'Égypte avec la religion actuelle de Nigritie_.

De Brosses showed that animal-worship in ancient Egypt was a survival

of practices such as existed among modern savages. Lafitau (in 1724)

also pointed out the savage element surviving in Greek myth, for which

he found many parallels in his experience as a Jesuit missionary among

the Indians of North America. But all writers on myth were not so

rational as these. Thus the Abbé Banier in his _La mythologie et les

fables expliquées par l'histoire_ (Paris, 1738) traced (as the title of

the book indicates) all myths to an historical basis.

Bryant (1715-1804) in 1774 published _A New System, or an Analysis of

Ancient Mythology_, in which he traced all mythologies to Biblical

sources. Thomas Taylor (1758-1835) in his translation of Pausanias

regarded all myth as allegory.

Friedrich Schelling (1775-1854) was the first to see a connexion

between the formation of myth and national development. Without

possessing the orderly and logical mind so necessary to the student

of tradition, he was able to seize spasmodically upon truths or facts

which strongly buttressed his theory. Creuzer in his _Symbolik und

Mythologie_ (Leipzig, 1810-1812) laid stress on the religious character

of myth. According to his view, myth is of the nature of religious

teaching, proceeding from an original revelation, and carefully handed

down in symbolic form by priestly schools. This secret wisdom passed

from the Orient to Greece and became the kernel of all myths, which

therefore contain the wisdom of antiquity in an allegorical form. To

unriddle this is the task of the mythologist, who can only succeed in

doing so by intuition. The mythologist is, like the poet, born not

made, according to Creuzer.

Although the symbolic method is nowadays as dead as the dodo, and in

any case could only apply to very late myths which were the work of

poets or philosophers, it still holds good that the elucidation of

myth is not a matter of pure mental induction, but that it frequently

results from intuition; and who can doubt, with the brilliant examples

of Lang, Gomme, Marett, Saussaye, Hubert and Mauss, Reinach, Rendel

Harris, and Elliot Smith before them, the proud assertion that great

students of tradition _are_ "born not made"?

With K.O. Müller's (1797-1840) _Prolegomena zu einer wissenschäftlicher

Mythologie_ (1825; Eng. trans, by Leitch, 1844) the truly scientific

treatment of myth begins. He saw clearly that the true laws underlying

the confusion of mythic science as he found it were not to be

approached by one but by many ways. The explanation of a myth, he said,

must be the explanation of its origin. A knowledge of the popular life

of antiquity he regarded as indispensable, and he drew a distinction

between the actual, original myth and the myth as sophisticated by

poets and philosophers. Mythic materials, he argued, must be resolved

into their original elements. His dicta are landmarks, almost laws--if

the term 'law' may be applied to a science where at present all is

rather nebulous.

THE PHILOLOGICAL SCHOOL

The comparative study of language did much to reawaken both interest

and industry in the study of myth, and the philological method of

explaining mythic phenomena arose. This system has been called

'comparative mythology.' The appellation is scarcely correct from a

scientific standpoint, as, strictly speaking, the term 'comparative

mythology' implies the comparison of the details of one myth with those

of another, in an attempt to prove the universality of the nature of

myth, or by 'the test of recurrence' to show that widely distributed

myths are related, and that fragments found only in one 'fit' the

other. This comparative mythology implied the comparison of mythic

names in various Indo-European languages with a view to showing that

what was dark and seemingly inexplicable in one language might be made

clear by comparison with the known mythic appellations in another

language.[7]

The leader of this school, the history of which is important for the

proper comprehension of the evolution of mythic science, was Professor

Max Müller[8] (1823-1900), who, coming from Germany to Oxford at

the age of twenty-three to undertake the translation of the ancient

religious books of India on behalf of the East India Company, rapidly

made a position for himself in English scientific circles by his sound

scholarship, indefatigable energy, and wide general culture. The deep

study of comparative philology led him to apply its results to myth.

He regarded language as a necessary condition of thought, not its

arbitrary expression, and considered that words, therefore, contain the

key to thoughts. If language is determined by thought, thought is also

determined by language. Mythology, according to Müller, is properly a

form of thought so essentially determined by language that it may be

described as 'a disease of language.' Its origin must be looked for

in a stage of human development in which intuition or instinct almost

predominates, while abstract thought is unknown. Thus mythical terms

precede mythical thought, and the peculiarities of language which lead

to the formation of myth are the gender of words, polyonymy (numerous

meanings attached to one word), synonymy (the possession of similar

meanings by two or more words), poetical metaphor, and so forth. But

the entire Müllerian conception of mythic science must not be taken

as being contained only in the expression that myth is a 'disease of

language.' Myth, according to Müller, is to be comprehended principally

through language, but not through language only. By reference to

language many but not _all_ mythic phenomena may be understood. Just as

certain rash disciples of Darwin did much to stultify their leader's

evolutionary theory by their applications of it, in the same manner

some of Müller's followers so distorted and exaggerated his views on

myth as to hamper him greatly.

Müller was not the first to apply the methods of comparative philology

to myth, but he was by far the most distinguished exponent of the

system. Before him G. Herman and others attempted to explain myths by

etymology, but they restricted their efforts to the Greek language

only. It was not until the researches of Franz Bopp[9] (1791-1867) and

others laid the foundations of the science of comparative philology

that the way was clear for the study of myth on a linguistic basis.

These studies succeeded in establishing the relationship of the

'Indo-Germanic' languages, and, working with these proven facts behind

him, Müller boldly applied them to mythic phenomena. For example, he

brought forward a comparative formula of the name of Zeus or Jupiter

which he stated thus:

Diaush-Pitar = Zeus Pater = Jupiter = Tyr.

Thus, according to him, the name Diaush-Pitar in Sanskrit was

equivalent to Zeus Pater in Greek, Jupiter in Latin, and Tyr in old

Teutonic.[10] This etymological result is sufficiently scientific in

character for acceptance by even a severe critic of the system. But

scarcely had Müller's method acquired vogue--and its recognition was

of the widest--than a small army of critics arose whose determined

opposition had to be reckoned with. Many of their objections, it is now

clear, were due to misunderstandings. Wherever they lit upon a paradox

or were enabled to confuse the issue by any ambiguity or slackness in

Müller's phraseology, they too often took more than a full advantage

of the chance to score. Indeed, so unsparing was the criticism to

which his conclusions were subjected, and so great was his irritation

thereat, that at length he accused certain of his adversaries of an

attempt to traduce his moral character by charging him with mendacity.

MÜLLER'S CONTEMPORARY CRITICS

But if his critics were unfair, they had legitimate grounds for a

certain opposition to his system. Many of his propositions, as well as

those of his followers, were doubtful; the method was often pushed to

extremes which just escaped being ludicrous; and the somewhat ponderous

erudition behind it seemed only to heighten the absurdity of some of

its conclusions, although the charm and usual clarity of Müller's

literary style were not to be denied. The combat waxed fierce, and

both sides brought up all their forces. Linguistic science, it was

said, is an uncertain medium for determining the substance and nature

of thought. The linguistic and etymological methods had been discarded

by philosophy, only to make an unwelcome reappearance in mythology.

The original meaning of a word is often totally at variance with its

later use. Again, similar mythic conceptions are found with totally

different names, and divergent ones with the same names. These were

serious objections, but they do not destroy the strictly verifiable

conclusions of the philological school. At present the school is in

the deepest discredit; indeed, it may be said to possess scarcely a

single follower; but that its methods are applicable to certain classes

of mythic phenomena no mythologist of experience would deny.

MÜLLERIAN INTERPRETATIONS

Examples which illustrate the Müllerian interpretation or

misinterpretation of myth are his treatment of the tale of Cephalus,

Aurora (Eos), and Procris. Cephalus was the sun, the son of Herse,

the dew; therefore he represented the sun rising over dewy fields.

Eos, as the word implies, is the dawn. Procris comes from a Sanskrit

root _park_, meaning to sprinkle, and is also the dew; therefore it

is the equivalent of Herse, the meaning of which may be found in a

Sanskrit root _vrish_, 'to sprinkle.' The myth is then interpreted:

Cephalus loves Procris--that is, the sun kisses the morning dew; Eos

loves Cephalus--that is, the dawn loves the sun. Procris is faithless,

but her new lover turns out to be the sun in another guise--that is,

the dewdrops reflect the sun in manifold colours. Procris is slain

by Cephalus--that is, the dew is absorbed by the sun. Thus natural

phenomena lurk behind the names of gods and heroes.

The philological school had its internal divisions also. Its arbitrary

interpretations made for schism, and there was considerable diversity

of opinion regarding myths and mythic personages. Two sub-schools

arose, the solar and the meteorological. The first, headed by Müller

himself, "saw sun-gods everywhere," in myth, folklore, and legend.

Perhaps its most zealous disciple was the Rev. Sir George William Cox

(1827-1902), author of _The Mythology of the Aryan Nations_ (1870) and

_An Introduction to Mythology and Folklore_ (1881), two works of great

erudition and charm, powerfully advocating the universality of the

sun myth and based upon a truly scientific investigation of a large

number of myths and tales. Cox did not insist upon the philological

interpretation of myths so much as on their solar character, and he is

"fully aware of the dangers involved in attempts to explain Teutonic,

or Greek, or Latin, or Scandinavian myths solely from Aryan sources."

He also admits the existence of nature myths other than solar, but to

his mind most of those which are not solar are stellar or nebular.

The founders of the meteorological school saw in all myths the

phenomena of the thunder and lightning. Dragons and similar monsters

guard treasures and fair maidens in a celestial stronghold till the

arrival of the hero-god, who slays the monsters and rescues the maiden.

Thus, said they, the dark and threatening thunder-clouds imprison the

light of heaven until the coming of the god, who dissipates them. The

chief supporters of this theory were Kuhn (1812-1881) and Darmesteter

(1849-1894). Laestrin too attempted to interpret myths from nebular

phenomena which he had observed on the Alps.[11]

Few perfectly certain results were achieved by the philological

school. Of convincing certainty at the first blush, a more searching

examination reveals difficulties, and shows that the theories do not

fit the myth with any degree of exactitude; but philology has rendered

and will render real service to mythology, and this young mythologists

would do well to bear in mind.[12]

THE ANTHROPOLOGICAL SCHOOL

But the final blow to the pretensions of the philological method as a

'universal solvent' of mythic problems was dealt by the anthropological

school of mythologists. This school accounts for the "wild and

senseless" element in myth by replying that such "wild and senseless"

conceptions can occur only in a savage and primitive state of society,

and that therefore when such elements are found in the myths of

civilized and cultured peoples they must necessarily be a legacy from

a savage past--survivals of savage belief. But ere we proceed further

in our investigation of the work of the anthropological school, let

us see by what arguments it finally divested the philologists of all

authority in the sphere of mythology.

It held, then, that Max Müller's system was a result of the discovery

of the basic unity of the Aryan languages, and was founded on an

analysis of these languages, but it showed that precisely similar myths

exist among Eskimos, Red Indians, South Sea Islanders, Maoris, Bushmen,

and other savage races. "The facts being identical, an identical

explanation should be sought; and as the languages in which the myths

exist are essentially different, an explanation founded upon the Aryan

language is likely to prove too narrow."[13] Again, although we may

discover the original meaning of a god's name, it does not assist us

to understand the myths connected with him, for a striking figure in

myth collects around it many age-old stories and mythic incidents which

have originally no connexion whatsoever with it, just as barnacles are

collected by a vessel in harbour. "Therefore, though we may ascertain

that Zeus means 'sky,' and Agni 'fire,' we cannot assert with Max

Müller that all the myths about Agni and Zeus were originally told of

fire and sky. When these gods became popular they would inevitably

inherit any current exploits of earlier heroes or gods."[14] So that

if these were credited to them it would be erroneously. Names derived

from natural phenomena too, such as sky, clouds, dawn, and sun, are

habitually assigned by savage peoples to living persons. Thus a tale

told of a real man or woman bearing one of these names might easily

become mingled or confused with myths about the real sky, cloud,

sun, dawn, etc. For such reasons the philological analysis of names

is bound to be uncertain in its results. Moreover, when primitive or

savage people think of natural phenomena and celestial bodies, they

have no such ideas in their minds concerning them as have civilized

people. They usually think of them as human beings with like passions

to themselves--in fact, in an 'animistic' way. Müller held that it was

gender-terminations that led later ages to the belief that natural

phenomena possessed personalities, whereas the anthropological school

retorted that _au contraire_ "gender-terminations were survivals from

an early stage of thought in which personal characteristics, including

sex, had been attributed to all phenomena." This stage of thought is

to be observed among savages and young children, who habitually regard

inanimate objects as alive.

MANNHARDT

The defection of Mannhardt, who had long been a pillar of the

philological school, was a further blow to its failing prestige. In a

work published shortly before his death (_Antike Wald- und Feldkulte_,

1877) he explains the growth of his views, and states that "the assured

gains" of the philological school "shrink into very few divine names

such as Dyaus = Zeus = Tuis; Parjany = Perkunas; Bhaga = Bug; Varuna =

Uranus, etc." Many of the other equations of divine names he regards as

mere _jeux d'esprit_. "To the principle of Max Müller," he says, "I can

only assign a very limited value, if any value at all" (_op. cit_., p.

20). And again: "Taken all in all, I consider the greater part of the

results hitherto obtained in the field of Indo-Germanic comparative

mythology to be, as yet, a failure, premature or incomplete, my own

efforts in _German Myths_ (1858) included." In an essay on Demeter

published somewhat later he further insisted upon the weakness of the

philological method. Moreover, he disapproved of finding celestial

phenomena in myths of terrestrial happenings. To this standpoint he was

brought by his own experience of how easy (and fatal) it is to become

the victim of a 'mythological habit'--that is, the interpretation of

myths by one method and by that alone. Writing to his friend Müllenhoff

in 1876, he said that he had become uneasy "at the extent which sun

myths threaten to assume in my comparisons." Mannhardt was a wise man

and an honest one. He saw clearly that there is no universal solvent

for myth, no single philosopher's stone by which it may be made to

yield its secrets, no royal road to its elucidation.

At the same time he adhered to the truth that "a portion of

the older myths arose from nature poetry which is no longer

directly intelligible to us, but has to be interpreted by means of

analogies.... Of these nature myths, some have reference to the life

and circumstances of the sun." As Lang has said of him:[15] "Like

every sensible person, he knew that there are numerous real, obvious,

confessed solar myths _not_ derived from a disease of language. These

arise from (1) the impulse to account for the doings of the sun by

telling a story about him as if he were a person; (2) from the natural

poetry of the human mind. What we think they are _not_ shown to arise

from is forgetfulness of meanings of old words, which, _ex hypothesi,_

have become proper names." And again: "It is a popular delusion that

the anthropological mythologists deny the existence of solar myths, or

of nature myths in general. These are extremely common. What we demur

to is the explanation of divine and heroic myths at large as solar

or elemental, when the original sense has been lost by the ancient

narrators, and when the elemental explanation rests on conjectural

and conflicting etymologies and interpretations of old proper

names--Athene, Hera, Artemis, and the rest."

Mannhardt's method was more that of the folklorist than the

philologist. He closely examined peasant custom and rite in the hope

of discovering survivals of paganism. Indeed, his work may be said to

be the foundation upon which Sir James George Frazer (whose work will

be fully reviewed later) built his imposing edifices of research, _The

Golden Bough_ and other works.

THE ANTHROPOLOGICAL POSITION

The anthropological creed might, broadly, be stated as follows, with,

of course, small divergences caused by internal division:

(1) The savage and irrational element in 'civilized' myth is composed

of primitive survivals in more civilized times.

(2) The comparison of civilized with savage myth--that is, of later

with earlier myth--frequently throws light upon the character of the

latter.

(3) The comparison of similar myths among widely divergent peoples

frequently illuminates their primitive character and meaning.

Broadly speaking, too, the anthropological school accepts such views

as have been laid down in the introductory chapter concerning animism,

fetishism, and totemism; and when we come to deal with authorities who

diverge in any way from these views we shall show how they differ.

SIR E. B. TYLOR

Sir E. B. Tylor, the virtual founder of the anthropological school,

in his _Researches into the Early History of Mankind_ (1865) and

_Primitive Culture_ (1871), first laid down the anthropological

position with clearness and accuracy.

In a statement which appeared in his epoch-making work, _Primitive

Culture_, Tylor briefly reviews the conceptions of the early

commentators regarding myth, and shows how necessary breadth of

knowledge and handling is for mythological work. The scientific

interpretation of myth is strengthened and assisted by the comparison

of examples. There are groups of myths, and the greater the number

which can be grouped together, the more evidence is provided for the

formation of a true science of mythology. Few and simple are the

principles which underlie a solid system of interpretation. "The

treatment of similar myths from different regions, by arranging them

in large compared groups, makes it possible to trace in mythology

the operation of imaginative processes recurring with the evident

regularity of mental law; and thus stories of which a single instance

would have been a mere isolated curiosity take their place among

well-marked and consistent structures of the human mind. Evidence like

this will again and again drive us to admit that even as 'truth is

stranger than fiction,' so myth may be more uniform than history."[16]

The work is limited to the consideration of well-authenticated mythic

ideas of almost universal occurrence. "The general thesis maintained is

that myth arose in the savage condition prevalent in remote ages among

the whole human race, that it remains comparatively unchanged among

the modern rude tribes who have departed least from these primitive

conditions, while even higher and later grades of civilisation, partly

by retaining its actual principles, and partly by carrying on its

inherited results in the form of ancestral tradition, have continued it

not merely in toleration but in honour."[17]

IMPORTANCE OF SAVAGE MYTH

The evolutionary character of myth necessitates that its study should

be commenced among races of low culture. "If savage races, as the

nearest modern representatives of primeval culture, show in the most

distinct and unchanged state the rudimentary mythic conceptions

thence to be traced onward in the course of civilisation, then it is

reasonable for students to begin, so far as may be, at the beginning.

Savage mythology may be taken as a basis, and then the myths of more

civilised races may be displayed as compositions sprung from like

origin, though more advanced in art. This mode of treatment proves

satisfactory through almost all the branches of the enquiry, and

eminently so in investigating those most beautiful of poetic fictions

to which may be given the title of Nature Myths."[18]

The nature of personalism in myth is debated, as is the share of

language in its formation, and here it will be seen that Tylor has not

the extreme hostility of certain of his followers to the Müllerian

doctrine. He says: "Language, no doubt, has had a great share in the

formation of myth. The mere fact of its individualising in words such

notions as winter and summer, cold and heat, war and peace, vice and

virtue, gives the myth-maker the means of imagining these thoughts

as personal beings. Language not only acts in thorough unison with

the imagination whose product it expresses, but it goes on producing

of itself, and thus, by the side of the mythic conceptions in which

language has followed imagination, we have others in which language

has led, and imagination has followed in the track. These two actions

coincide too closely for their effects to be thoroughly separated,

but they should be distinguished as far as possible. For myself, I

am disposed to think (differing here in some measure from Professor

Max Müller's view of the subject) that the mythology of the lower

races rests especially on a basis of real and sensible analogy, and

that the great expansion of verbal metaphor into myth belongs to more

advanced periods of civilisation. In a word, I take material myth to

be the primary, and verbal myth to be the secondary, formation. But

whether this opinion be historically sound or not, the difference

in nature between myth founded on fact and myth founded on word is

sufficiently manifest. The want of reality in verbal metaphor cannot

be effectually hidden by the utmost stretch of imagination. In spite

of this essential weakness, however, the habit of realising everything

that words can describe is one which has grown and flourished in the

world. Descriptive names become personal, the notion of personality

stretches to take in even the most abstract notions to which a name

may be applied, and realised name, epithet, and metaphor pass into

interminable mythic growths by the process which Max Müller has so

aptly characterised as 'a disease of language.' It would be difficult

indeed to define the exact thought lying at the root of every mythic

conception, but in easy cases the course of formation can be quite well

followed."[19]

The student of myth must possess the ability to transport himself into

the imaginative atmosphere of the untutored mind. The inspection of

'nature mythology' helps to show that much myth is related to natural

phenomena. "In interpreting heroic legend as based on nature-myth,"

says Tylor, "circumstantial analogy must be very cautiously appealed

to, and at any rate, there is need of evidence more cogent than

vague likenesses between human and cosmic life. Now such evidence is

forthcoming at its strongest in a crowd of myths, whose open meaning

it would be wanton incredulity to doubt, so little do they disguise,

in name or sense, the familiar aspects of nature which they figure as

scenes of personal life. Even where the tellers of legend may have

altered or forgotten its earlier mythic meaning, there are often

sufficient grounds for an attempt to restore it. In spite of change

and corruption, myths are slow to lose all consciousness of their

first origin."[20] And "the etymology of names, moreover, is at once

the guide and safeguard of the mythologist [p. 321]. There was no

disputing the obvious fact that Helios (Sol) was the sun, and Selene

the moon." He examines groups of myths "produced from that craving to

know causes and reasons which ever besets mankind" (p. 392). Allegory

is then treated of. It "cannot maintain the large place often claimed

for it [p. 408], yet it cannot be passed over by the mythologist. A

number of fanciful myths are of the nature of allegory, as that of

Pandora in Hesiod, or Herakles choosing between the paths of pleasure

and virtue." In concluding his chapters on myth, Tylor remarks in a

passage of profound insight: "The investigation of these intricate and

devious operations has brought ever more and more broadly into view

two principles of mythologie science. The first is that legend, when

classified on a sufficient scale, displays a regularity of development

which the notion of motiveless fancy quite fails to account for, and

which must be attributed to laws of formation whereby every story, old

and new, has arisen from its definite origin and sufficient cause. So

uniform indeed is such development that it becomes possible to treat

myth as an organic product of mankind at large, in which individual,

national, and even racial distinctions stand subordinate to universal

qualities of the human mind. The second principle concerns the relation

of myth to history. It is true that the search for mutilated and

mystified traditions of real events, which formed so main a part of

old mythological researches, seems to grow more hopeless the further

the study of legend extends.... Yet unconsciously, and as it were in

spite of themselves, the shapers and transmitters of poetic legend have

preserved for us masses of sound historical evidence."[21]

TYLOR'S ANIMISTIC THEORY

The widely accepted theory of animism which has already been described

(p. 22) was promulgated by Tylor in this work. Man, he thinks, first

attained to the idea of spirit by reflection on various experiences

such as sleep, dreams, trances, shadows, hallucinations, breath, and

death, and by degrees extended the conception of soul or ghost until

he peopled all nature with spirits. From among these spirits one is

finally supreme, if the process of evolution is continued. This theory

discounts the early connexion between religion and ethics, and Tylor

believed that primitive man had no notion of religion or ethics.

JOHN FERGUSON McLENNAN

John Ferguson McLennan (1827-1881), author of _Primitive Marriage_

(1865) and _Studies in Ancient History_ (1876), threw much light upon

the origin and rise of the family and, incidentally, of totemism.

Although he treats the subject from a sociological point of view, his

work is of great value to students of myth because of its illustrations

of totemism. His principal writings on totemism first appeared in the

_Fortnightly Review_ of 1869-1870.

HERBERT SPENCER

Herbert Spencer (1820-1903) explained his system of mythology in

_Principles of Sociology_. The mental condition of man when he animates

and personifies all phenomena is accounted for by degeneration, as

in Spencer's view it is not primary but the result of misconception.

Language is only one cause of this misconception: statements which had

originally a different significance are, he thinks, misinterpreted, as

are names of human beings, so that primitive races are gradually led

to a belief in personalized phenomena. The defect in early speech, the

"lack of words free from implication of vitality," is one of the causes

which favour personalization. But in making this statement he appears

to overlook the circumstance that such words as "imply vitality" do

so because they reflect the thought of the men who use them before

misconception can arise through their prolonged use. In any case, the

misconstructions of language which he believes to have brought about

the idea of personality are in his system "different in kind" from

those of the philological school, "and the erroneous course of thought

is opposite in direction." He believes the names of human beings in

early society to be derived from incidents of the moment, the period

of the day, or the condition of the weather. In certain tribes we

discover persons named Dawn, Dark Cloud, Sun, etc. Spencer thinks that

if a story exists concerning people so named, in process of time it

will be transferred to the object or event, which will thereby become

personalized. It is clear, however, that few such stories could be

apposite, and that their occurrence would be rare.

Traditions of persons coming from the neighbourhood of some mountain

or river may grow into belief in actual birth from it. For example,

should tradition state that a man's parents came "from the rising

sun," he will believe himself a descendant of the luminary, which thus

becomes personalized. Holding as he does that ancestor-worship is the

first form of religion, and that persons with such names as Sun, Wind,

or Cloud may be thus worshipped, Spencer believed that nature myths

are a kind of worship of ancestors. Implicit belief in the statements

of forefathers is a further cause of personalizing. He explains the

idea of descent from beast ancestors by the ancestor of the stock or

tribe possessing an animal name, such as Wolf, Tiger, and so forth,

and being confounded by his descendants with a real wolf or tiger.

Spencer never saw that ancestral memory in savages is extremely short

and rarely survives more than three generations. Nor is the savage at

a loss to understand the custom of bestowing animal or nature names

upon persons. He calls his own child Dawn or Wolf, and therefore he

is not tempted to believe that his ancestor was really a tiger or the

dawn. The animal descent almost invariably comes through the female

line, and the mother's totem-kin name is adopted, yet savages do not

worship their ancestresses. The theory, as Lang has said, requires "as

a necessary condition a singular amount of memory on the one hand and

of forgetfulness on the other."

WILLIAM ROBERTSON SMITH

One of the first and most remarkable upholders of the anthropological

school was William Robertson Smith (1846-1894) a professor of Hebrew

in the Free Church College, Aberdeen. The heterodox character of an

encyclopædia article on the Bible led to his prosecution for heresy,

of which charge, however, he was acquitted. But a further article upon

"Hebrew Language and Literature" in the _Encyclopædia Britannica_

(1880) led to his removal from the professoriate of the college.

In 1881 he assisted Professor Baynes in editing the _Encyclopædia

Britannica_, and in 1887 succeeded him as editor-in-chief. He was

appointed Lord Almoner's Professor of Arabic at Cambridge in 1883, and

Adams Professor of Arabic in 1889.

Robertson Smith's most remarkable work--that to which every modern

student of comparative religion owes so much--is his celebrated

_Religion of the Semites_, originally delivered as a series of lectures

at Aberdeen in the three years from October 1888 to October 1891.

It is of course only this author's views on mythology that we have here

to take into account.

Robertson Smith points out that in all ancient religious systems

mythology takes the place of dogma. The sacred lore of a race assumes

the form of stories about the gods, and these tales offer the sole

explanation of religious precept and ritual act, but as myth had

no sacred sanction and no binding force on the worshippers, it was

not an essential part of religion. Myths "connected with individual

sanctuaries and ceremonies were merely part of the apparatus of the

worship; they served to excite the fancy and sustain the interest of

the worshipper; but he was often offered a choice of several accounts

of the same thing, and, provided that he fulfilled the ritual with

accuracy, no one cared what he believed about its origin. Belief in

a certain series of myths was neither obligatory as a part of true

religion, nor was it supposed that, by believing, a man acquired

religious merit and conciliated the favour of the gods. What was

obligatory or meritorious was the exact performance of certain sacred

acts prescribed by religious tradition. This being so, it follows that

mythology ought not to take the prominent place that is too often

assigned to it in the scientific study of ancient faiths."

Robertson Smith thought that in almost every case the myth was derived

from the ritual, not the ritual from the myth. Ritual was fixed, and

myth was variable. The one was obligatory, the other at the discretion

of the worshipper. "Now by far the largest part of the myths of antique

religions is connected with the ritual of particular shrines, or with

the religious observances of particular tribes and districts. In all

such cases it is probable, in most cases it is certain, that the myth

is merely the explanation of a religious usage; and ordinarily it is

such an explanation as could not have arisen till the original sense

of the usage had more or less fallen into oblivion. As a rule the myth

is no explanation of the origin of the ritual to any one who does not

believe it to be a narrative of real occurrences, and the boldest

mythologist will not believe that. But if it be not true, the myth

itself requires to be explained, and every principle of philosophy and

common sense demands that the explanation be sought, not in arbitrary

allegorical theories, but in the actual facts of ritual or religious

custom to which the myth attaches. The conclusion is that in the study

of ancient religions we must begin, not with myth, but with ritual and

traditional usage."

Myths which do not merely explain traditional practices, but "exhibit

the beginnings of larger religious speculation," Robertson Smith also

regards as secondary in character. They may be primitive philosophy

or political attempts to unite religious groups, originally distinct,

or perhaps due to the play of epic imagination. In the later stages

of ancient religions mythology became increasingly important. "Myth

interpreted by the aid of allegory became the favourite means of

infusing a new significance into ancient forms. But the theories thus

developed are the falsest of false guides as to the original meaning

of the old religions. On the other hand, the ancient myths, taken in

their natural sense, without allegorical gloss, are plainly of great

importance as testimonies to the views of the nature of the gods that

were prevalent when they were formed."

In the third lecture or chapter the author propounds the theory of

animism in much the same terms as Tylor, and, speaking generally, the

remainder of the work is occupied with considerations regarding the

religious life of the Semitic peoples, their holy places, their ritual

and sacrifice.

THEOBIOGRAPHY

Robertson Smith is undoubtedly correct in his statement that myth takes

the place of dogma in primitive religion--that "the sacred lore of

priests and people ... assumes the form of stories about the gods." But

having thus connected theobiography[22] with religion and the religious

spirit, it is difficult to discover why he denies a religious character

to myth. "These stories," he says (p. 17), "afford the only explanation

that is offered of the precepts of religion and the prescribed rules of

ritual." If that be the case, surely the group of myths which detail

the deeds of the chief deities is of prime importance to religion.

The 'story' of a religion is its most precious asset. It is from the

'story' of their faith that the majority of people receive their ideas

concerning it. What would Mohammedanism be without the story of the

Prophet? What Buddhism without the tale of Gautama? What Christianity

without the life of Christ? And if the argument applies to the higher

forms of religion, it may surely be applied, and more so, to primitive

faiths. Among savage or barbarous peoples the myth, the body of tales

which circles round the gods, is universal tribal property. It takes

the place of written scripture, it infuses all poetry and epic, it is

represented in sacred drama, it is recited by the neophytes for the

priesthood, it underlies the most sacred mysteries. The contention

that myth was "no essential part of ancient religion" is based upon a

fundamental misconception of the spoken or written story of the gods.

In the present writer's view myth is a most important element of

primitive religion; for whereas ritual often impresses an alien people

as magical and therefore inimical, and is not so readily borrowed,

the wide transmission of myth proves that it not only impresses the

imagination of the races among whom it has origin, but that it is able

to take hold of neighbouring and even distant peoples as well.

Akin to the first error is Robertson Smith's further fallacy that

ritual is prior in origin to myth in primitive religion. "It may be

affirmed with confidence," he says, "that the myth was derived from the

ritual, not the ritual from the myth." Therefore the savage sacrifices

with much involved ceremonial to something concerning which he knows

and has invented nothing!

THE CONSERVATISM OF CHILDHOOD

That myth is sacred may be seen, if our conclusions are correct, in a

fact already employed to explain the fixed and unchangeable character

of the folk-tale. Children, it is observed, listening to a traditional

story do not approve of any alteration in its plot or circumstances. Is

this dislike--one might almost say horror--of alteration in folk-tale

a legacy of the religious dread of any attempt to tamper with the

tales of the gods? If so, such a sentiment would only be likely to

arise in an environment where the idea of the sacred had already made

considerable headway.

This argument does not claim an ethical character for myth, nor for

ritual or the other elements of religion, which did not originally know

of or possess any ethical spirit, but had to acquire it painfully. The

argument that belief in myth was not "obligatory as a part of true

religion" is futile. It was not obligatory because it was natural and

general. That one could not acquire religious merit by knowing it is

also untrue. Intimate acquaintance with the religious story is in many

civilized modern communities (Mohammedans, Hindus, British rural folk)

the measure of piety, and among savages and the peoples of antiquity

(Egyptians, Greeks, Australians, etc.) the religious story is the

nucleus of the most sacred mysteries of the faith.

CORNELIUS PETRUS TIELE

Cornelius Petrus Tiele (1830-1902), a professor of the history of

religions at Leyden, although claimed as an ally by Max Müller, was

much more inclined toward fellowship with the anthropological school.

In his _Revue de l'Histoire des Religions_ (1876, trans. 1878, xii,

250) he says: "I am an ally, much more than an adversary, of the new

school, whether styled ethnological or anthropological. It is true that

all the ideas advanced by its partisans are not so new as they seem.

Some of us--I mean among those who, without being vassals of the old

school, were formed by it--had not only remarked already the defects

of the reigning method, but had perceived the direction in which

researches should be made; they had even begun to say so. This does

not prevent the young school from enjoying the great merit of having

first formulated with precision, and with the energy of conviction,

that which had hitherto been but imperfectly pointed out. If henceforth

mythological science marches with a firmer foot, and loses much of its

hypothetical character, it will in part owe this to the stimulus of the

new school."

Again he says (_op. cit_., p. 253): "If I were reduced to choose

between this method and that of comparative philology, I would prefer

the former without the slightest hesitation. This method alone

enables us to explain the fact, such a frequent cause of surprise,

that the Greeks, like the Germans, ... could attribute to their gods

all manner of cruel, cowardly, and dissolute actions. This method

alone reveals the cause of all the strange metamorphoses of gods into

animals, plants, and even stones.... In fact, this method teaches

us to recognize in all these oddities the survivals of an age of

barbarism long over-past, but lingering into later times, under the

form of religious legends, the most persistent of all traditions.

... This method, then, can alone help us to account for the genesis

of myths, because it devotes itself to studying them in their rudest

and most primitive shape." At the same time, Tiele thought that the

anthropological method "cannot answer all the questions which the

science of mythology must solve, or at least must study." He also

states that the anthropological school is "not entirely wrong" in

claiming him as an ally, and goes on to say: "But I must protest in the

name of mythological science, and of the exactness as necessary to her

as to any of the other sciences, against a method which only glides

over questions of the first importance and which to most questions can

only reply, with a smile, _C'est chercher raison où il n'y en a pas_."

Tiele also considered the anthropological school "too exclusive," and

thought that it might have ignorant camp-followers. In the latter fear

he was justified, as writers who saw totems and fetishes everywhere

were at that time rife; and there are not wanting popular writers of

the present day just as extravagant, who, while highly enthusiastic

over the achievements of the school, only dimly appreciate the

anthropological standpoint.

ANDREW LANG

Perhaps the greatest binding force, and certainly the greatest

popularity, was given to the anthropological school by Andrew Lang

(1844-1913), whose works _Myth, Ritual, and Religion_ (1887), _Modern

Mythology_ (1897), and _The Making of Religion_ (1898), contain

originality, great dialectic ability, and keen insight. Waxing

autobiographical in the second work, Lang wrote concerning his own

position: "Like other inquiring under-graduates in the sixties, I read

such works on mythology as Mr Max Müller had then given to the world;

I read them with interest, but without conviction. The argument, the

logic, seemed to evade one; it was purely, with me, a question of

logic, for I was of course prepared to accept all of Mr Max Müller's

dicta on questions of etymologies. Even now I never venture to impugn

them, only, as I observe that other scholars very frequently differ,

_toto cœlo_, from him and from each other in essential questions,

I preserve a just balance of doubt; I wait till these gentlemen shall

be at one among themselves. After taking my degree in 1868, I had

leisure to read a good deal of mythology in the legends of all races,

and found my distrust of Mr Max Müller's reasoning increase upon me.

The main cause was that whereas Mr Max Müller explained Greek myths

by etymologies of words in the Aryan languages, chiefly Greek, Latin,

Slavonic, and Sanskrit, I kept finding myths very closely resembling

those of Greece among Red Indians, Kaffirs, Eskimo, Samoyeds,

Kamilaroi, Maoris, and Cahrocs. Now if Aryan myths arose from a

'disease' of Aryan languages, it certainly did seem an odd thing that

myths so similar to these abounded where non-Aryan languages alone

prevailed. Did a kind of linguistic measles affect all tongues alike,

from Sanskrit to Choctaw, and everywhere produce the same ugly scars

in religion and myth? The ugly scars were the problem! A civilised

fancy is not puzzled for a moment by a beautiful beneficent Sun-god, or

even by his beholding the daughters of men that they are fair. But a

civilised fancy _is_ puzzled when the beautiful Sun-god makes love in

the shape of a dog. To me, and indeed to Mr Max Müller, the ugly scars

were the problem."

Lang's first work on myth, _Myth, Ritual, and Religion_, after briefly

reviewing the various systems of mythic interpretation prior to and

current in his time, lays stress upon the difference between religion

and myth, in which he sees two distinct human moods, the one sacred,

the other wholly frivolous in origin. This conflict is present in all

religions. The two moods, we are told (p. 5), are conspicuous even

in Christianity, in prayers, hymns, and "the dim religious light" of

cathedrals on the one hand, and on the other in the buffoonery of

miracle plays and the uncouth blasphemies of folk-tales. Backward

peoples too make a distinction between their religion and their

mythology. The 'wild' element of mythic story is then explained as a

survival from the savage state, the mental condition of savages is

described in its bearing upon primitive fiction, and its outstanding

types are outlined, as are some of the world's chief mythic

systems--all to illustrate the anthropological standpoint of the

author. Incidentally is developed the 'All-Father' theory, which will

be dealt with later.

'ERRATIC FANCY' IN MYTH

In this work we have, perhaps, the most valuable statement of the

anthropological case extant, but in it Lang insists too much upon

a fundamental difference between myth and religion. He says (_loc.

cit_.): "For the present we can only say that the religious conception

uprises from the human intellect in one mood, that of earnest

contemplation and submission: while the mythical ideas uprise from

another mood, that of playful and erratic fancy." Absurd and unholy

stories of the gods are common, but all myths are not of this kind,

and many were and are employed as ritual by various peoples, who

recite them frequently as the histories of the gods they worship.

Again, Lang's contention that myth is not 'religious' would seem to

be defeated by his own just argument that myth containing 'wild'

elements dates from primitive times. He accounts for its 'wildness'

by its primitiveness; it was blasphemous because savage. But although

blasphemous to the civilized man, it may not be so to the uncultured

barbarian, and to him may be even religious. Elsewhere Lang cites

Australian myth to prove that one tale is told to "unimportant

persons," such as women and boys, another to the initiated.[23] The

first is of the nature of myth, the second religious in character.

We can discern a measure of truth in what he advocates, but a hard

and fast line cannot be drawn between myth and religion, as no one

can say where myth ends and religion begins. They overlap; and when

we read of the pranks of the Greek Zeus or the Chinook Blue Jay we

may say to ourselves: "Thus the gods figure in the imagination of the

savage, in whom the religious sense is faint. Once myth emerges from

the animistic, totemistic, and barbarous state it rises in character."

But--and this is important--there still cling to it the age-long tales

of the gods as savages, barbaric, bloodthirsty, absurd, in no way to be

cleansed or 'edited' or rendered 'decent,' They are regarded by men as

sacred because they are old.

The arguments against Lang's conception of myth as the ribald brother

of religion are as follows: (1) The majority of ancient myths are

not absurd, obscene, or blasphemous in essence, as is proved by

the circumstances of their invention. (2) Other myths which appear

blasphemous to the civilized mind do not necessarily seem so to the

savage mind. The strange sense of humour peculiar to savages is not

taken into consideration by Lang, nor that most of the absurdities and

obscenities arise from totemic sources _and are therefore necessarily

animal in their characteristics_, (3) The preservation and recital of

myths by priests proves their sacred character.[24]

Therefore, although a difference exists between myth and dogma, it

is one of degree only, not of kind. In all ages the ribald mind has

concocted scandalous stories concerning the gods, but most primitive

myth is not to be classed as 'ribald,' as a careful perusal of it will

show.

LANG'S GENERAL THESIS

Lang states his general thesis clearly on p. 8. He says: "Before going

further, it is desirable to set forth what our aim is, and to what

extent we are seeking an interpretation of mythology. It is not our

purpose to explain every detail of every ancient legend, either as a

distorted historical fact or as the result of this or that confusion of

thought caused by forgetfulness of the meanings of language, or in any

other way; nay, we must constantly protest against the excursions of

too venturesome ingenuity. Myth is so ancient, so complex, so full of

elements, that it is vain labour to seek a cause for every phenomenon.

We are chiefly occupied with the quest for an historical condition of

the human intellect to which the element in myths, regarded by us as

irrational, shall seem rational enough. If we can prove that such a

state of mind widely exists among men, and has existed, that state of

mind may be provisionally considered as the fount and _origin_ of the

myths which have always perplexed men in a reasonable modern mental

condition."

The irrational element in myth, to which we have already given some

consideration, is then discussed by Lang, and as our manner of dealing

with it is founded upon his, it is unnecessary to recapitulate his

arguments. It must be remarked, however, that he lays down (vol. i,

p. 22) the conclusion that "All interpretations of myth have been

formed in accordance with the ideas prevalent in the time of the

interpreters." He states that his theory naturally attaches itself

to the general system of evolution, and through it we are enabled

to examine myth as "a thing of gradual development and of slow and

manifold modifications." Thus we find that much of ancient myth is

a thing of great complexity, composed of the savage 'explanation,'

the civilized and poetic modification thereof, and the later popular

idea of the original tale. "A critical study of these three stages

in myth is in accordance with the recognised practice of science.

Indeed, the whole system is only an application to this particular

province, mythology, of the method by which the development either of

organisms or of human institutions is traced. As the anomalies and

apparently useless and accidental features in the human or in other

animal organisms may be explained as stunted or rudimentary survivals

of organs useful in a previous stage of life, so the anomalous and

irrational myths of civilised races may be explained as survivals of

stories which, in an earlier state of thought and knowledge, seemed

natural enough. The persistence of the myths is accounted for by the

well-known conservatism of the religious sentiment--a conservatism

noticed even by Eusebius."

DIFFUSION OF IDENTICAL MYTHS

The diffusion of identical myths, Lang argues, is due to the universal

prevalence of similar mental habits and ideas at one time or another,

but he admits that this argument may be pressed too far, and that it

will "scarcely account for the world-wide distribution of long and

intricate mythical _plots_." The diffusion of mythic fiction would, in

the judgment of the present writer, justify the opinion that in many

instances borrowing and transmission take place; but all cases should

be examined on their individual merits.

Lang proceeds to examine the mental condition of savages, in accordance

with the views in our introductory chapter, and with special reference

to totemism and magic. The animistic hypothesis is examined. His

chapters relating to cosmogony may be passed over as containing no very

original criticism. The author's 'All-Father' theory, as outlined in

our notice of his book _The Making of Religion_, is set forth, and the

remainder of that work is occupied with a description of the greater

mythological systems of the world, regarding some of which he was not

sufficiently well informed to speak with authority.[25]

"MODERN MYTHOLOGY"

In _Modern Mythology_(1897) Lang shows why the anthropological school

in England was obliged to challenge Professor Max Müller. After

pointing out the inconveniences of Müller's method in controversy,

the author proves that Tiele leans more in the direction of his

school than to that of Müller. He then reviews Mannhardt's position,

which he shows to be also anti-Müllerian. He touches upon Müller's

misunderstandings regarding totemism and reviews "the value of

anthropological evidence." He points out that the past of savages must

have been "a very long past," and insists upon the value of Tylor's

"test of undesigned coincidence in testimony" (the famous 'test of

recurrence') as a criterion of the value of myth. "The philological

method in anthropology" is discussed. Says Lang: "Given Dr Hahn's book

on Hottentot manners and religion: the anthropologist compares the

Hottentot rites, beliefs, social habits, and general ideas with those

of other races known to him, savage or civilised. A Hottentot custom,

which has a meaning among Hottentots, may exist where its meaning is

lost, among Greeks or other 'Aryans.' A story of a Hottentot god, quite

a natural sort of tale for a Hottentot to tell, may be told about a

god in Greece, where it is contrary to the Greek spirit. We infer that

the Greeks perhaps inherited it from savage ancestors, or borrowed it

from savages. This is the method, and if we can also get a scholar to

analyse the _names_ of Hottentot gods, we are all the luckier--that

is, if his processes and inferences are _logical._ May we not decide

on the _logic_ of scholars? But, just as Mr Max Müller points out

to us the dangers attending our evidence, we point out to him the

dangers attending his method. In Dr Hahn's book, the doctor analyses

the meaning of the names Tsuni-Goam and other names, discovers their

original sense, and from that sense explains the myths about Hottentot

divine beings. Here we anthropologists first ask Mr Max Müller, before

accepting Dr Hahn's etymologies, to listen to other scholars about the

perils and difficulties of the philological analysis of divine names

even in Aryan languages. I have already quoted his 'defender' Dr Tiele.

'The philological method is inadequate and misleading, when it is a

question of (1) discovering the origin of a myth, or (2) the physical

explanation of the oldest myths, or (3) of accounting for the rude and

obscene element in the divine legends of civilised races.' To the two

former purposes Dr Hahn applies the philological method in the case of

Tsuni-Goam. Other scholars agree with Dr Tiele. Mannhardt, as we said,

held that Mr Max Müller's favourite etymological 'equations' (Sarameya

= Hermeias; Saranyu = Demeter Erinnys; Kentauros = Gandharvas, and

others) would not stand criticism. 'The method in its practical working

shows a lack of the historical sense,' said Mannhardt. Curtius--a

scholar, as Mr Max Müller declares--says, 'It is especially difficult

to conjecture the meaning of proper names, and above all of local and

mythical names,' I do not see that it is easier when these names are

not Greek, but Hottentot, or Algonquin!"

Then follows a review of the contending methods of the philological

and anthropological schools in the explanation of various myths and

ritualistic customs, and the method of the latter school is clearly

vindicated.

LANG'S ANTI-ANIMISTIC HYPOTHESIS

The thesis of the first portion of Lang's _The Making of Religion_

(London, 1898) is that the abnormal phenomena believed in by savages

and later civilized peoples assisted them to evolve the idea of

godhead. Lang holds that "the savage beliefs, however erroneous,

however darkened by fraud and fancy, repose on a basis of real

observation of actual phenomena." With such a contention, however

ingenious, anthropology can scarcely concern itself, as our knowledge

of the supernatural is by no means sufficient to permit us to apply it

to anthropology.

An Introduction to Mythology · 第 2 / 13 章