The Golden Bough
A Study in Magic and Religion
By
James George Frazer, D.C.L., LL.D., Litt.D.
Fellow of Trinity College, Cambridge
Professor of Social Anthropology in the University of Liverpool
Third Edition.
Vol. III.
Part II
Taboo and the Perils of the Soul
New York and London
MacMillan and Co.
1911
CONTENTS
Preface.
Chapter I. The Burden Of Royalty.
§ 1. Royal and Priestly Taboos.
§ 2. Divorce of the Spiritual from the Temporal Power.
Chapter II. The Perils Of The Soul.
§ 1. The Soul as a Mannikin.
§ 2. Absence and Recall of the Soul.
§ 3. The Soul as a Shadow and a Reflection.
Chapter III. Tabooed Acts.
§ 1. Taboos on Intercourse with Strangers.
§ 2. Taboos on Eating and Drinking.
§ 3. Taboos on shewing the Face.
§ 4. Taboos on quitting the House.
§ 5. Taboos on leaving Food over.
Chapter IV. Tabooed Persons.
§ 1. Chiefs and Kings tabooed.
§ 2. Mourners tabooed.
§ 3. Women tabooed at Menstruation and Childbirth.
§ 4. Warriors tabooed.
§ 5. Manslayers tabooed.
§ 6. Hunters and Fishers tabooed.
Chapter V. Tabooed Things.
§ 1. The Meaning of Taboo.
§ 2. Iron tabooed.
§ 3. Sharp Weapons tabooed.
§ 4. Blood tabooed.
§ 5. The Head tabooed.
§ 6. Hair tabooed.
§ 7. Ceremonies at Hair-cutting.
§ 8. Disposal of Cut Hair and Nails.
§ 9. Spittle tabooed.
§ 10. Foods tabooed.
§ 11. Knots and Rings tabooed.
Chapter VI. Tabooed Words.
§ 1. Personal Names tabooed.
§ 2. Names of Relations tabooed.
§ 3. Names of the Dead tabooed.
§ 4. Names of Kings and other Sacred Persons tabooed.
§ 5. Names of Gods tabooed.
§ 6. Common Words tabooed.
Chapter VII. Our Debt To The Savage.
Note. Not To Step Over Persons And Things.
Index.
Footnotes
[Cover Art]
[Transcriber’s Note: The above cover image was produced by the submitter
at Distributed Proofreaders, and is being placed into the public domain.]
PREFACE.
The term Taboo is one of the very few words which the English language has
borrowed from the speech of savages. In the Polynesian tongue, from which
we have adopted it, the word designates a remarkable system which has
deeply influenced the religious, social, and political life of the Oceanic
islanders, both Polynesians and Melanesians, particularly by inculcating a
superstitious veneration for the persons of nobles and the rights of
private property. When about the year 1886 my ever-lamented friend William
Robertson Smith asked me to write an article on Taboo for the Ninth
Edition of the _Encyclopaedia Britannica_, I shared what I believe to have
been at the time the current view of anthropologists, that the institution
in question was confined to the brown and black races of the Pacific. But
an attentive study of the accounts given of Taboo by observers who wrote
while it still flourished in Polynesia soon led me to modify that view.
The analogies which the system presents to the superstitions, not only of
savages elsewhere, but of the civilised races of antiquity, were too
numerous and too striking to be overlooked; and I came to the conclusion
that Taboo is only one of a number of similar systems of superstition
which among many, perhaps among all races of men have contributed in large
measure, under many different names and with many variations of detail, to
build up the complex fabric of society in all the various sides or
elements of it which we describe as religious, social, political, moral
and economic. This conclusion I briefly indicated in my article. My
general views on the subject were accepted by my friend Robertson Smith
and applied by him in his celebrated _Lectures_ to the elucidation of some
aspects of Semitic religion. Since then the importance of Taboo and of
systems like it in the evolution of religion and morality, of government
and property, has been generally recognised and has indeed become a
commonplace of anthropology.
The present volume is merely an expansion of the corresponding chapter in
the first edition of _The Golden Bough_. It treats of the principles of
taboo in their special application to sacred personages, such as kings and
priests, who are the proper theme of the book. It does not profess to
handle the subject as a whole, to pursue it into all its ramifications, to
trace the manifold influences which systems of this sort have exerted in
moulding the multitudinous forms of human society. A treatise which should
adequately discuss these topics would far exceed the limits which I have
prescribed for myself in _The Golden Bough_. For example, I have barely
touched in passing on the part which these superstitions have played in
shaping the moral ideas and directing the moral practice of mankind, a
profound subject fraught perhaps with momentous issues for the time when
men shall seriously set themselves to revise their ethical code in the
light of its origin. For that the ethical like the legal code of a people
stands in need of constant revision will hardly be disputed by any
attentive and dispassionate observer. The old view that the principles of
right and wrong are immutable and eternal is no longer tenable. The moral
world is as little exempt as the physical world from the law of ceaseless
change, of perpetual flux. Contemplate the diversities, the
inconsistencies, the contradictions of the ethical ideas and the ethical
practice, not merely of different peoples in different countries, but of
the same people in the same country in different ages, then say whether
the foundations of morality are eternally fixed and unchanging. If they
seem so to us, as they have probably seemed to men in all ages who did not
extend their views beyond the narrow limits of their time and country, it
is in all likelihood merely because the rate of change is commonly so slow
that it is imperceptible at any moment and can only be detected by a
comparison of accurate observations extending over long periods of time.
Such a comparison, could we make it, would probably convince us that if we
speak of the moral law as immutable and eternal, it can only be in the
relative or figurative sense in which we apply the same words to the
outlines of the great mountains, by comparison with the short-lived
generations of men. The mountains, too, are passing away, though we do not
see it; nothing is stable and abiding under or above the sun. We can as
little arrest the process of moral evolution as we can stay the sweep of
the tides or the courses of the stars.
Therefore, whether we like it or not, the moral code by which we regulate
our conduct is being constantly revised and altered: old rules are being
silently expunged and new rules silently inscribed in the palimpsest by
the busy, the unresting hand of an invisible scribe. For unlike the public
and formal revision of a legal code, the revision of the moral code is
always private, tacit, and informal. The legislators who make and the
judges who administer it are not clad in ermine and scarlet, their edicts
are not proclaimed with the blare of trumpets and the pomp of heraldry. We
ourselves are the lawgivers and the judges: it is the whole people who
make and alter the ethical standard and judge every case by reference to
it. We sit in the highest court of appeal, judging offenders daily, and we
cannot if we would rid ourselves of the responsibility. All that we can do
is to take as clear and comprehensive a view as possible of the evidence,
lest from too narrow and partial a view we should do injustice, perhaps
gross and irreparable injustice, to the prisoners at the bar. Few things,
perhaps, can better guard us from narrowness and illiberality in our moral
judgments than a survey of the amazing diversities of ethical theory and
practice which have been recorded among the various races of mankind in
different ages; and accordingly the Comparative Method applied to the
study of ethical phenomena may be expected to do for morality what the
same method applied to religious phenomena is now doing for religion, by
enlarging our mental horizon, extending the boundaries of knowledge,
throwing light on the origin of current beliefs and practices, and thereby
directly assisting us to replace what is effete by what is vigorous, and
what is false by what is true. The facts which I have put together in this
volume as well as in some of my other writings may perhaps serve as
materials for a future science of Comparative Ethics. They are rough
stones which await the master-builder, rude sketches which more cunning
hands than mine may hereafter work up into a finished picture.
J. G. Frazer.
CAMBRIDGE,
_1st February 1911_.
CHAPTER I. THE BURDEN OF ROYALTY.
§ 1. Royal and Priestly Taboos.
(M1) At a certain stage of early society the king or priest is often
thought to be endowed with supernatural powers or to be an incarnation of
a deity, and consistently with this belief the course of nature is
supposed to be more or less under his control, and he is held responsible
for bad weather, failure of the crops, and similar calamities.(1) To some
extent it appears to be assumed that the king’s power over nature, like
that over his subjects and slaves, is exerted through definite acts of
will; and therefore if drought, famine, pestilence, or storms arise, the
people attribute the misfortune to the negligence or guilt of their king,
and punish him accordingly with stripes and bonds, or, if he remains
obdurate, with deposition and death.(2) Sometimes, however, the course of
nature, while regarded as dependent on the king, is supposed to be partly
independent of his will. His person is considered, if we may express it
so, as the dynamical centre of the universe, from which lines of force
radiate to all quarters of the heaven; so that any motion of his—the
turning of his head, the lifting of his hand—instantaneously affects and
may seriously disturb some part of nature. He is the point of support on
which hangs the balance of the world, and the slightest irregularity on
his part may overthrow the delicate equipoise. The greatest care must,
therefore, be taken both by and of him; and his whole life, down to its
minutest details, must be so regulated that no act of his, voluntary or
involuntary, may disarrange or upset the established order of nature. Of
this class of monarchs the Mikado or Dairi, the spiritual emperor of
Japan, is or rather used to be a typical example. He is an incarnation of
the sun goddess, the deity who rules the universe, gods and men included;
once a year all the gods wait upon him and spend a month at his court.
During that month, the name of which means “without gods,” no one
frequents the temples, for they are believed to be deserted.(3) The Mikado
receives from his people and assumes in his official proclamations and
decrees the title of “manifest or incarnate deity” (_Akitsu Kami_) and he
claims a general authority over the gods of Japan.(4) For example, in an
official decree of the year 646 the emperor is described as “the incarnate
god who governs the universe.”(5)
(M2) The following description of the Mikado’s mode of life was written
about two hundred years ago:—(6)
“Even to this day the princes descended of this family more particularly
those who sit on the throne, are looked upon as persons most holy in
themselves, and as Popes by birth. And, in order to preserve these
advantageous notions in the minds of their subjects, they are obliged to
take an uncommon care of their sacred persons, and to do such things,
which, examined according to the customs of other nations, would be
thought ridiculous and impertinent. It will not be improper to give a few
instances of it. He thinks that it would be very prejudicial to his
dignity and holiness to touch the ground with his feet; for this reason
when he intends to go anywhere, he must be carried thither on men’s
shoulders. Much less will they suffer that he should expose his sacred
person to the open air, and the sun is not thought worthy to shine on his
head. There is such a holiness ascribed to all the parts of his body that
he dares to cut off neither his hair, nor his beard, nor his nails.
However, lest he should grow too dirty, they may clean him in the night
when he is asleep; because, they say, that which is taken from his body at
that time, hath been stolen from him, and that such a theft doth not
prejudice his holiness or dignity. In ancient times, he was obliged to sit
on the throne for some hours every morning, with the imperial crown on his
head, but to sit altogether like a statue, without stirring either hands
or feet, head or eyes, nor indeed any part of his body, because, by this
means, it was thought that he could preserve peace and tranquillity in his
empire; for if, unfortunately, he turned himself on one side or the other,
or if he looked a good while towards any part of his dominions, it was
apprehended that war, famine, fire, or some other great misfortune was
near at hand to desolate the country. But it having been afterwards
discovered, that the imperial crown was the palladium, which by its
immobility(7) could preserve peace in the empire, it was thought expedient
to deliver his imperial person, consecrated only to idleness and
pleasures, from this burthensome duty, and therefore the crown is at
present placed on the throne for some hours every morning. His victuals
must be dressed every time in new pots, and served at table in new dishes:
both are very clean and neat, but made only of common clay; that without
any considerable expense they may be laid aside, or broke, after they have
served once. They are generally broke, for fear they should come into the
hands of laymen, for they believe religiously, that if any layman should
presume to eat his food out of these sacred dishes, it would swell and
inflame his mouth and throat. The like ill effect is dreaded from the
Dairi’s sacred habits; for they believe that if a layman should wear them,
without the Emperor’s express leave or command, they would occasion
swellings and pains in all parts of his body.” To the same effect an
earlier account of the Mikado says: “It was considered as a shameful
degradation for him even to touch the ground with his foot. The sun and
moon were not even permitted to shine upon his head. None of the
superfluities of the body were ever taken from him, neither his hair, his
beard, nor his nails were cut. Whatever he eat was dressed in new
vessels.”(8)
(M3) Similar priestly or rather divine kings are found, at a lower level
of barbarism, on the west coast of Africa. At Shark Point near Cape
Padron, in Lower Guinea, lives the priestly king Kukulu, alone in a wood.
He may not touch a woman nor leave his house; indeed he may not even quit
his chair, in which he is obliged to sleep sitting, for if he lay down no
wind would arise and navigation would be stopped. He regulates storms, and
in general maintains a wholesome and equable state of the atmosphere.(9)
On Mount Agu in Togo, a German possession in West Africa, there lives a
fetish or spirit called Bagba, who is of great importance for the whole of
the surrounding country. The power of giving or withholding rain is
ascribed to him, and he is lord of the winds, including the Harmattan, the
dry, hot wind which blows from the interior. His priest dwells in a house
on the highest peak of the mountain, where he keeps the winds bottled up
in huge jars. Applications for rain, too, are made to him, and he does a
good business in amulets, which consist of the teeth and claws of
leopards. Yet though his power is great and he is indeed the real chief of
the land, the rule of the fetish forbids him ever to leave the mountain,
and he must spend the whole of his life on its summit. Only once a year
may he come down to make purchases in the market; but even then he may not
set foot in the hut of any mortal man, and must return to his place of
exile the same day. The business of government in the villages is
conducted by subordinate chiefs, who are appointed by him.(10) In the West
African kingdom of Congo there was a supreme pontiff called Chitomé or
Chitombé, whom the negroes regarded as a god on earth and all-powerful in
heaven. Hence before they would taste the new crops they offered him the
first-fruits, fearing that manifold misfortunes would befall them if they
broke this rule. When he left his residence to visit other places within
his jurisdiction, all married people had to observe strict continence the
whole time he was out; for it was supposed that any act of incontinence
would prove fatal to him. And if he were to die a natural death, they
thought that the world would perish, and the earth, which he alone
sustained by his power and merit, would immediately be annihilated.(11)
Similarly in Humbe, a kingdom of Angola, the incontinence of young people
under the age of puberty used to be a capital crime, because it was
believed to entail the death of the king within the year. Of late the
death penalty has been commuted for a fine of ten oxen inflicted on each
of the culprits. This commutation has attracted thousands of dissolute
youth to Humbe from the neighbouring tribes, among whom the old penalty is
still rigorously exacted.(12) Amongst the semi-barbarous nations of the
New World, at the date of the Spanish conquest, there were found
hierarchies or theocracies like those of Japan;(13) in particular, the
high pontiff of the Zapotecs in Southern Mexico appears to have presented
a close parallel to the Mikado. A powerful rival to the king himself, this
spiritual lord governed Yopaa, one of the chief cities of the kingdom,
with absolute dominion. It is impossible, we are told, to overrate the
reverence in which he was held. He was looked on as a god whom the earth
was not worthy to hold nor the sun to shine upon. He profaned his sanctity
if he even touched the ground with his foot. The officers who bore his
palanquin on their shoulders were members of the highest families; he
hardly deigned to look on anything around him; and all who met him fell
with their faces to the earth, fearing that death would overtake them if
they saw even his shadow. A rule of continence was regularly imposed on
the Zapotec priests, especially upon the high pontiff; but “on certain
days in each year, which were generally celebrated with feasts and dances,
it was customary for the high priest to become drunk. While in this state,
seeming to belong neither to heaven nor to earth, one of the most
beautiful of the virgins consecrated to the service of the gods was
brought to him.” If the child she bore him was a son, he was brought up as
a prince of the blood, and the eldest son succeeded his father on the
pontifical throne.(14) The supernatural powers attributed to this pontiff
are not specified, but probably they resembled those of the Mikado and
Chitomé.
(M4) Wherever, as in Japan and West Africa, it is supposed that the order
of nature, and even the existence of the world, is bound up with the life
of the king or priest, it is clear that he must be regarded by his
subjects as a source both of infinite blessing and of infinite danger. On
the one hand, the people have to thank him for the rain and sunshine which
foster the fruits of the earth, for the wind which brings ships to their
coasts, and even for the solid ground beneath their feet. But what he
gives he can refuse; and so close is the dependence of nature on his
person, so delicate the balance of the system of forces whereof he is the
centre, that the least irregularity on his part may set up a tremor which
shall shake the earth to its foundations. And if nature may be disturbed
by the slightest involuntary act of the king, it is easy to conceive the
convulsion which his death might provoke. The natural death of the
Chitomé, as we have seen, was thought to entail the destruction of all
things. Clearly, therefore, out of a regard for their own safety, which
might be imperilled by any rash act of the king, and still more by his
death, the people will exact of their king or priest a strict conformity
to those rules, the observance of which is deemed necessary for his own
preservation, and consequently for the preservation of his people and the
world. The idea that early kingdoms are despotisms in which the people
exist only for the sovereign, is wholly inapplicable to the monarchies we
are considering. On the contrary, the sovereign in them exists only for
his subjects; his life is only valuable so long as he discharges the
duties of his position by ordering the course of nature for his people’s
benefit. So soon as he fails to do so, the care, the devotion, the
religious homage which they had hitherto lavished on him cease and are
changed into hatred and contempt; he is dismissed ignominiously, and may
be thankful if he escapes with his life. Worshipped as a god one day, he
is killed as a criminal the next. But in this changed behaviour of the
people there is nothing capricious or inconsistent. On the contrary, their
conduct is entirely of a piece. If their king is their god, he is or
should be also their preserver; and if he will not preserve them, he must
make room for another who will. So long, however, as he answers their
expectations, there is no limit to the care which they take of him, and
which they compel him to take of himself. A king of this sort lives hedged
in by a ceremonious etiquette, a network of prohibitions and observances,
of which the intention is not to contribute to his dignity, much less to
his comfort, but to restrain him from conduct which, by disturbing the
harmony of nature, might involve himself, his people, and the universe in
one common catastrophe. Far from adding to his comfort, these observances,
by trammelling his every act, annihilate his freedom and often render the
very life, which it is their object to preserve, a burden and sorrow to
him.
(M5) Of the supernaturally endowed kings of Loango it is said that the
more powerful a king is, the more taboos is he bound to observe; they
regulate all his actions, his walking and his standing, his eating and
drinking, his sleeping and waking.(15) To these restraints the heir to the
throne is subject from infancy; but as he advances in life the number of
abstinences and ceremonies which he must observe increases, “until at the
moment that he ascends the throne he is lost in the ocean of rites and
taboos.”(16) In the crater of an extinct volcano, enclosed on all sides by
grassy slopes, lie the scattered huts and yam-fields of Riabba, the
capital of the native king of Fernando Po. This mysterious being lives in
the lowest depths of the crater, surrounded by a harem of forty women, and
covered, it is said, with old silver coins. Naked savage as he is, he yet
exercises far more influence in the island than the Spanish governor at
Santa Isabel. In him the conservative spirit of the Boobies or aboriginal
inhabitants of the island is, as it were, incorporate. He has never seen a
white man and, according to the firm conviction of all the Boobies, the
sight of a pale face would cause his instant death. He cannot bear to look
upon the sea; indeed it is said that he may never see it even in the
distance, and that therefore he wears away his life with shackles on his
legs in the dim twilight of his hut. Certain it is that he has never set
foot on the beach. With the exception of his musket and knife, he uses
nothing that comes from the whites; European cloth never touches his
person, and he scorns tobacco, rum, and even salt.(17)
(M6) Among the Ewe-speaking peoples of the Slave Coast, in West Africa,
“the king is at the same time high priest. In this quality he was,
particularly in former times, unapproachable by his subjects. Only by
night was he allowed to quit his dwelling in order to bathe and so forth.
None but his representative, the so-called ‘visible king,’ with three
chosen elders might converse with him, and even they had to sit on an
ox-hide with their backs turned to him. He might not see any European nor
any horse, nor might he look upon the sea, for which reason he was not
allowed to quit his capital even for a few moments. These rules have been
disregarded in recent times.”(18) The king of Dahomey himself is subject
to the prohibition of beholding the sea,(19) and so are the kings of
Loango(20) and Great Ardra in Guinea.(21) The sea is the fetish of the
Eyeos, to the north-west of Dahomey, and they and their king are
threatened with death by their priests if ever they dare to look on
it.(22) It is believed that the king of Cayor in Senegal would infallibly
die within the year if he were to cross a river or an arm of the sea.(23)
In Mashonaland down to recent times the chiefs would not cross certain
rivers, particularly the Rurikwi and the Nyadiri; and the custom was still
strictly observed by at least one chief within the last few years. “On no
account will the chief cross the river. If it is absolutely necessary for
him to do so, he is blindfolded and carried across with shouting and
singing. Should he walk across, he will go blind or die and certainly lose
the chieftainship.”(24) So among the Mahafalys and Sakalavas in the south
of Madagascar some kings are forbidden to sail on the sea or to cross
certain rivers.(25) The horror of the sea is not peculiar to kings. The
Basutos are said to share it instinctively, though they have never seen
salt water, and live hundreds of miles from the Indian Ocean.(26) The
Egyptian priests loathed the sea, and called it the foam of Typhon; they
were forbidden to set salt on their table, and they would not speak to
pilots because they got their living by the sea; hence too they would not
eat fish, and the hieroglyphic symbol for hatred was a fish.(27) When the
Indians of the Peruvian Andes were sent by the Spaniards to work in the
hot valleys of the coast, the vast ocean which they saw before them as
they descended the Cordillera was dreaded by them as a cause of disease;
hence they prayed to it that they might not fall ill. This they all did
without exception, even the little children.(28) Similarly the inland
people of Lampong in Sumatra are said to pay a kind of adoration to the
sea, and to make it an offering of cakes and sweetmeats when they behold
it for the first time, deprecating its power of doing them mischief.(29)
(M7) Among the Sakalavas of southern Madagascar the chief is regarded as a
sacred being, but “he is held in leash by a crowd of restrictions, which
regulate his behaviour like that of the emperor of China. He can undertake
nothing whatever unless the sorcerers have declared the omens favourable:
he may not eat warm food: on certain days he may not quit his hut; and so
on.”(30) Among some of the hill tribes of Assam both the headman and his
wife have to observe many taboos in respect of food; thus they may not eat
buffalo, pork, dog, fowl, or tomatoes. The headman must be chaste, the
husband of one wife, and he must separate himself from her on the eve of a
general or public observance of taboo. In one group of tribes the headman
is forbidden to eat in a strange village, and under no provocation
whatever may he utter a word of abuse. Apparently the people imagine that
the violation of any of these taboos by a headman would bring down
misfortune on the whole village.(31)
(M8) The ancient kings of Ireland, as well as the kings of the four
provinces of Leinster, Munster, Connaught, and Ulster, were subject to
certain quaint prohibitions or taboos, on the due observance of which the
prosperity of the people and the country, as well as their own, was
supposed to depend. Thus, for example, the sun might not rise on the king
of Ireland in his bed at Tara, the old capital of Erin; he was forbidden
to alight on Wednesday at Magh Breagh, to traverse Magh Cuillinn after
sunset, to incite his horse at Fan-Chomair, to go in a ship upon the water
the Monday after Bealltaine (May day), and to leave the track of his army
upon Ath Maighne the Tuesday after All-Hallows. The king of Leinster might
not go round Tuath Laighean left-hand-wise on Wednesday, nor sleep between
the Dothair (Dodder) and the Duibhlinn(32) with his head inclining to one
side, nor encamp for nine days on the plains of Cualann, nor travel the
road of Duibhlinn on Monday, nor ride a dirty black-heeled horse across
Magh Maistean. The king of Munster was prohibited from enjoying the feast
of Loch Lein from one Monday to another; from banqueting by night in the
beginning of harvest before Geim at Leitreacha; from encamping for nine
days upon the Siuir; and from holding a border meeting at Gabhran. The
king of Connaught might not conclude a treaty respecting his ancient
palace of Cruachan(33) after making peace on All-Hallows Day, nor go in a
speckled garment on a grey speckled steed to the heath of Dal Chais, nor
repair to an assembly of women at Seaghais, nor sit in autumn on the
sepulchral mounds of the wife of Maine, nor contend in running with the
rider of a grey one-eyed horse at Ath Gallta between two posts. The king
of Ulster was forbidden to attend the horse fair at Rath Line among the
youths of Dal Araidhe, to listen to the fluttering of the flocks of birds
of Linn Saileach after sunset, to celebrate the feast of the bull of
Daire-mic-Daire, to go into Magh Cobha in the month of March, and to drink
of the water of Bo Neimhidh between two darknesses. If the kings of
Ireland strictly observed these and many other customs, which were
enjoined by immemorial usage, it was believed that they would never meet
with mischance or misfortune, and would live for ninety years without
experiencing the decay of old age; that no epidemic or mortality would
occur during their reigns; and that the seasons would be favourable and
the earth yield its fruit in abundance; whereas, if they set the ancient
usages at naught, the country would be visited with plague, famine, and
bad weather.(34)
(M9) The kings of Egypt were worshipped as gods,(35) and the routine of
their daily life was regulated in every detail by precise and unvarying
rules. “The life of the kings of Egypt,” says Diodorus, “was not like that
of other monarchs who are irresponsible and may do just what they choose;
on the contrary, everything was fixed for them by law, not only their
official duties, but even the details of their daily life.... The hours
both of day and night were arranged at which the king had to do, not what
he pleased, but what was prescribed for him.... For not only were the
times appointed at which he should transact public business or sit in
judgment; but the very hours for his walking and bathing and sleeping with
his wife, and, in short, performing every act of life were all settled.
Custom enjoined a simple diet; the only flesh he might eat was veal and
goose, and he might only drink a prescribed quantity of wine.”(36)
However, there is reason to think that these rules were observed, not by
the ancient Pharaohs, but by the priestly kings who reigned at Thebes and
in Ethiopia at the close of the twentieth dynasty.(37) Among the Karen-nis
of Upper Burma a chief attains his position, not by hereditary right, but
on account of his habit of abstaining from rice and liquor. The mother,
too, of a candidate for the chieftainship must have eschewed these things
and lived solely on yams and potatoes so long as she was with child.
During that time she may not eat any meat nor drink water from a common
well. And if her son is to be qualified for the office of chief he must
continue to observe these habits.(38)
(M10) Of the taboos imposed on priests we may see a striking example in
the rules of life prescribed for the Flamen Dialis at Rome, who has been
interpreted as a living image of Jupiter, or a human embodiment of the
sky-spirit.(39) They were such as the following:—The Flamen Dialis might
not ride or even touch a horse, nor see an army under arms,(40) nor wear a
ring which was not broken, nor have a knot on any part of his garments; no
fire except a sacred fire might be taken out of his house; he might not
touch wheaten flour or leavened bread; he might not touch or even name a
goat, a dog,(41) raw meat, beans,(42) and ivy; he might not walk under a
vine; the feet of his bed had to be daubed with mud; his hair could be cut
only by a free man and with a bronze knife, and his hair and nails when
cut had to be buried under a lucky tree; he might not touch a dead body
nor enter a place where one was burned;(43) he might not see work being
done on holy days; he might not be uncovered in the open air; if a man in
bonds were taken into his house, the captive had to be unbound and the
cords had to be drawn up through a hole in the roof and so let down into
the street. His wife, the Flaminica, had to observe nearly the same rules,
and others of her own besides. She might not ascend more than three steps
of the kind of staircase called Greek; at a certain festival she might not
comb her hair; the leather of her shoes might not be made from a beast
that had died a natural death, but only from one that had been slain or
sacrificed; if she heard thunder she was tabooed till she had offered an
expiatory sacrifice.(44)
(M11) Among the Grebo people of Sierra Leone there is a pontiff who bears
the title of Bodia and has been compared, on somewhat slender grounds, to
the high priest of the Jews. He is appointed in accordance with the behest
of an oracle. At an elaborate ceremony of installation he is anointed, a
ring is put on his ankle as a badge of office, and the door-posts of his
house are sprinkled with the blood of a sacrificed goat. He has charge of
the public talismans and idols, which he feeds with rice and oil every new
moon; and he sacrifices on behalf of the town to the dead and to demons.
Nominally his power is very great, but in practice it is very limited; for
he dare not defy public opinion, and he is held responsible, even with his
life, for any adversity that befalls the country. It is expected of him
that he should cause the earth to bring forth abundantly, the people to be
healthy, war to be driven far away, and witchcraft to be kept in abeyance.
His life is trammelled by the observance of certain restrictions or
taboos. Thus he may not sleep in any house but his own official residence,
which is called the “anointed house” with reference to the ceremony of
anointing him at inauguration. He may not drink water on the highway. He
may not eat while a corpse is in the town, and he may not mourn for the
dead. If he dies while in office, he must be buried at dead of night; few
may hear of his burial, and none may mourn for him when his death is made
public. Should he have fallen a victim to the poison ordeal by drinking a
decoction of sassywood, as it is called, he must be buried under a running
stream of water.(45)
(M12) Among the Todas of Southern India the holy milkman (_palol_), who
acts as priest of the sacred dairy, is subject to a variety of irksome and
burdensome restrictions during the whole time of his incumbency, which may
last many years. Thus he must live at the sacred dairy and may never visit
his home or any ordinary village. He must be celibate; if he is married he
must leave his wife. On no account may any ordinary person touch the holy
milkman or the holy dairy; such a touch would so defile his holiness that
he would forfeit his office. It is only on two days a week, namely Mondays
and Thursdays, that a mere layman may even approach the milkman; on other
days if he has any business with him, he must stand at a distance (some
say a quarter of a mile) and shout his message across the intervening
space. Further, the holy milkman never cuts his hair or pares his nails so
long as he holds office; he never crosses a river by a bridge, but wades
through a ford and only certain fords; if a death occurs in his clan, he
may not attend any of the funeral ceremonies, unless he first resigns his
office and descends from the exalted rank of milkman to that of a mere
common mortal. Indeed it appears that in old days he had to resign the
seals, or rather the pails, of office whenever any member of his clan
departed this life. However, these heavy restraints are laid in their
entirety only on milkmen of the very highest class.(46) Among the Todas
there are milkmen and milkmen; and some of them get off more lightly in
consideration of their humbler station in life.(47) Still, apart from the
dignity they enjoy, the lot even of these other milkmen is not altogether
a happy one. Thus, for example, at a place called Kanodrs there is a
dairy-temple of a conical form. The milkman who has charge of it must be
celibate during the tenure of his office: he must sleep in the calves’
house, a very flimsy structure with an open door and a fire-place that
gives little heat: he may wear only one very scanty garment: he must take
his meals sitting on the outer wall which surrounds the dairy: in eating
he may not put his hand to his lips, but must throw the food into his
mouth; and in drinking he may not put to his lips the leaf which serves as
a cup, he must tilt his head back and pour the liquid into his mouth in a
jet from above. With the exception of a single layman, who is allowed to
bear the milkman company, but who is also bound to celibacy and has a bed
rigged up for him in the calves’ house, no other person is allowed to go
near this very sacred dairy under any pretext whatever. No wonder that
some years ago the dairy was unoccupied and the office of milkman stood
vacant. “At the present time,” says Dr. Rivers, “a dairyman is appointed
about once a year and holds office for thirty or forty days only. So far
as I could ascertain, the failure to occupy the dairy constantly is due to
the very considerable hardships and restrictions which have to be endured
by the holder of the office of dairyman, and the time is probably not far
distant when this dairy, one of the most sacred among the Todas, will
cease altogether to be used.”(48)
§ 2. Divorce of the Spiritual from the Temporal Power.
(M13) The burdensome observances attached to the royal or priestly office
produced their natural effect. Either men refused to accept the office,
which hence tended to fall into abeyance; or accepting it, they sank under
its weight into spiritless creatures, cloistered recluses, from whose
nerveless fingers the reins of government slipped into the firmer grasp of
men who were often content to wield the reality of sovereignty without its
name. In some countries this rift in the supreme power deepened into a
total and permanent separation of the spiritual and temporal powers, the
old royal house retaining their purely religious functions, while the
civil government passed into the hands of a younger and more vigorous
race.
(M14) To take examples. In a previous part of this work we saw that in
Cambodia it is often necessary to force the kingships of Fire and Water
upon the reluctant successors,(49) and that in Savage Island the monarchy
actually came to an end because at last no one could be induced to accept
the dangerous distinction.(50) In some parts of West Africa, when the king
dies, a family council is secretly held to determine his successor. He on
whom the choice falls is suddenly seized, bound, and thrown into the
fetish-house, where he is kept in durance till he consents to accept the
crown. Sometimes the heir finds means of evading the honour which it is
sought to thrust upon him; a ferocious chief has been known to go about
constantly armed, resolute to resist by force any attempt to set him on
the throne.(51) The savage Timmes of Sierra Leone, who elect their king,
reserve to themselves the right of beating him on the eve of his
coronation; and they avail themselves of this constitutional privilege
with such hearty goodwill that sometimes the unhappy monarch does not long
survive his elevation to the throne. Hence when the leading chiefs have a
spite at a man and wish to rid themselves of him, they elect him king.(52)
Formerly, before a man was proclaimed king of Sierra Leone, it used to be
the custom to load him with chains and thrash him. Then the fetters were
knocked off, the kingly robe was placed on him, and he received in his
hands the symbol of royal dignity, which was nothing but the axe of the
executioner.(53) It is not therefore surprising to read that in Sierra
Leone, where such customs have prevailed, “except among the Mandingoes and
Suzees, few kings are natives of the countries they govern. So different
are their ideas from ours, that very few are solicitous of the honour, and
competition is very seldom heard of.”(54) Another writer on Sierra Leone
tells us that “the honour of reigning, so much coveted in Europe, is very
frequently rejected in Africa, on account of the expense attached to it,
which sometimes greatly exceeds the revenues of the crown.”(55) A
reluctance to accept the sovereignty in the Ethiopian kingdom of Gingiro
was simulated, if not really felt, as we learn from the old Jesuit
missionaries. “They wrap up the dead king’s body in costly garments, and
killing a cow, put it into the hide; then all those who hope to succeed
him, being his sons or others of the royal blood, flying from the honour
they covet, abscond and hide themselves in the woods. This done, the
electors, who are all great sorcerers, agree among themselves who shall be
king, and go out to seek him, when entering the woods by means of their
enchantments, they say, a large bird called _liber_, as big as an eagle,
comes down with mighty cries over the place where he is hid, and they find
him encompass’d by lyons, tygers, snakes, and other creatures gather’d
about him by witchcraft. The elect, as fierce as those beasts, rushes out
upon those who seek him, wounding and sometimes killing some of them, to
prevent being seiz’d. They take all in good part, defending themselves the
best they can, till they have seiz’d him. Thus they carry him away by
force, he still struggling and seeming to refuse taking upon him the
burthen of government, all which is mere cheat and hypocrisy.”(56)
(M15) The Mikados of Japan seem early to have resorted to the expedient of
transferring the honours and burdens of supreme power to their infant
children; and the rise of the Tycoons, long the temporal sovereigns of the
country, is traced to the abdication of a certain Mikado in favour of his
three-year-old son. The sovereignty having been wrested by a usurper from
the infant prince, the cause of the Mikado was championed by Yoritomo, a
man of spirit and conduct, who overthrew the usurper and restored to the
Mikado the shadow, while he retained for himself the substance, of power.
He bequeathed to his descendants the dignity he had won, and thus became
the founder of the line of Tycoons. Down to the latter half of the
sixteenth century the Tycoons were active and efficient rulers; but the
same fate overtook them which had befallen the Mikados. Immeshed in the
same inextricable web of custom and law, they degenerated into mere
puppets, hardly stirring from their palaces and occupied in a perpetual
round of empty ceremonies, while the real business of government was
managed by the council of state.(57) In Tonquin the monarchy ran a similar
course. Living like his predecessors in effeminacy and sloth, the king was
driven from the throne by an ambitious adventurer named Mack, who from a
fisherman had risen to be Grand Mandarin. But the king’s brother Tring put
down the usurper and restored the king, retaining, however, for himself
and his descendants the dignity of general of all the forces.
Thenceforward the kings or _dovas_, though invested with the title and
pomp of sovereignty, ceased to govern. While they lived secluded in their
palaces, all real political power was wielded by the hereditary generals
or _chovas_.(58) The present king of Sikhim, “like most of his
predecessors in the kingship, is a mere puppet in the hands of his crafty
priests, who have made a sort of priest-king of him. They encourage him by
every means in their power to leave the government to them, whilst he
devotes all his time to the degrading rites of devil-worship, and the
ceaseless muttering of meaningless jargon, of which the Tibetan form of
Buddhism chiefly consists. They declare that he is a saint by birth, that
he is the direct descendant of the greatest king of Tibet, the canonised
Srongtsan Gampo, who was a contemporary of Mahomed in the seventh century
A.D. and who first introduced Buddhism to Tibet.” “This saintly lineage,
which secures for the king’s person popular homage amounting to worship,
is probably, however, a mere invention of the priests to glorify their
puppet-prince for their own sordid ends. Such devices are common in the
East.”(59) The custom regularly observed by the Tahitian kings of
abdicating on the birth of a son, who was immediately proclaimed sovereign
and received his father’s homage, may perhaps have originated, like the
similar custom occasionally practised by the Mikados, in a wish to shift
to other shoulders the irksome burden of royalty; for in Tahiti as
elsewhere the sovereign was subjected to a system of vexatious
restrictions.(60) In Mangaia, another Polynesian island, religious and
civil authority were lodged in separate hands, spiritual functions being
discharged by a line of hereditary kings, while the temporal government
was entrusted from time to time to a victorious war-chief, whose
investiture, however, had to be completed by the king. To the latter were
assigned the best lands, and he received daily offerings of the choicest
food.(61) The Mikado and Tycoon of Japan had their counterparts in the
Roko Tui and Vunivalu of Fiji. The Roko Tui was the Reverend or Sacred
King. The Vunivalu was the Root of War or War King. In one kingdom a
certain Thakambau, who was the War King, kept all power in his own hands,
but in a neighbouring kingdom the real ruler was the Sacred King.(62)
Similarly in Tonga, besides the civil king or _How_, whose right to the
throne was partly hereditary and partly derived from his warlike
reputation and the number of his fighting men, there was a great divine
chief called _Tooitonga_ or “Chief of Tonga,” who ranked above the king
and the other chiefs in virtue of his supposed descent from one of the
chief gods. Once a year the first-fruits of the ground were offered to him
at a solemn ceremony, and it was believed that if these offerings were not
made the vengeance of the gods would fall in a signal manner on the
people. Peculiar forms of speech, such as were applied to no one else,
were used in speaking of him, and everything that he chanced to touch
became sacred or tabooed. When he and the king met, the monarch had to sit
down on the ground in token of respect until his holiness had passed by.
Yet though he enjoyed the highest veneration by reason of his divine
origin, this sacred personage possessed no political authority, and if he
ventured to meddle with affairs of state it was at the risk of receiving a
rebuff from the king, to whom the real power belonged, and who finally
succeeded in ridding himself of his spiritual rival.(63) The king of the
Getae regularly shared his power with a priest, whom his subjects called a
god. This divine man led a solitary life in a cave on a holy mountain,
seeing few people but the king and his attendants. His counsels added much
to the king’s influence with his subjects, who believed that he was
thereby enabled to impart to them the commands and admonitions of the
gods.(64) At Athens the kings degenerated into little more than sacred
functionaries and it is said that the institution of the new office of
Polemarch or War Lord was rendered necessary by their growing
effeminacy.(65) American examples of the partition of authority between a
king and a pope have already been cited from the early history of Mexico
and Colombia.(66)
(M16) In some parts of western Africa two kings reign side by side, a
fetish or religious king and a civil king, but the fetish king is really
supreme. He controls the weather and so forth, and can put a stop to
everything. When he lays his red staff on the ground, no one may pass that
way. This division of power between a sacred and a secular ruler is to be
met with wherever the true negro culture has been left unmolested, but
where the negro form of society has been disturbed, as in Dahomey and
Ashantee, there is a tendency to consolidate the two powers in a single
king.(67) Thus, for example, there used to be a fetish king at New Calabar
who ranked above the ordinary king in all native matters, whether
religious or civil, and always walked in front of him on public occasions,
attended by a slave who held an umbrella over his head. His opinion
carried great weight.(68) The office and the causes which led to its
extinction are thus described by a missionary who spent many years in
Calabar: “The worship of the people is now given especially to their
various _idems_, one of which, called Ndem Efik, is a sort of tutelary
deity of the country. An individual was appointed to take charge of this
object of worship, who bore the name of King Calabar; and likely, in
bypast times, possessed the power indicated by the title, being both king
and priest. He had as a tribute the skins of all leopards killed, and
should a slave take refuge in his shrine he belonged to Ndem Efik. The
office, however, imposed certain restrictions on its occupant. He, for
instance, could not partake of food in the presence of any one, and he was
prohibited from engaging in traffic. On account of these and other
disabilities, when the last holder of the office died, a poor old man of
the Cobham family, no successor was found for him, and the priesthood has
become extinct.”(69) One of the practical inconveniences of such an office
is that the house of the fetish king enjoys the right of sanctuary, and so
tends to become little better than a rookery of bad characters. Thus on
the Grain Coast of West Africa the fetish king or Bodio, as he is called,
“exercises the functions of a high-priest, and is regarded as protector of
the whole nation. He lives in a house provided for him by the people, and
takes care of the national fetiches. He enjoys some immunities in virtue
of his office, but is subject to certain restrictions which more than
counterbalance his privileges. His house is a sanctum to which culprits
may betake themselves without the danger of being removed by any one
except by the Bodio himself.”(70) One of these Bodios resigned office
because of the sort of people who quartered themselves on him, the cost of
feeding them, and the squabbles they had among themselves. He led a
cat-and-dog life with them for three years. Then there came a man with
homicidal mania varied by epileptic fits; and soon afterwards the
spiritual shepherd retired into private life, but not before he had lost
an ear and sustained other bodily injury in a personal conflict with this
very black sheep.(71)
(M17) At Porto Novo there used to be, in addition to the ordinary monarch,
a King of the Night, who reigned during the hours of darkness from sunset
to sunrise. He might not shew himself in the street after the sun was up.
His duty was to patrol the streets with his satellites and to arrest all
whom he found abroad after a certain hour. Each band of his catchpoles was
led by a man who went about concealed from head to foot under a conical
casing of straw and blew blasts on a shell which caused every one that
heard it to shudder. The King of the Night never met the ordinary king
except on the first and last days of their respective reign; for each of
them invested the other with office and paid him the last honours at
death.(72) With this King of the Night at Porto Novo we may compare a
certain king of Hawaii who was so very sacred that no man might see him,
even accidentally, by day under pain of death; he only shewed himself by
night.(73)
(M18) In some parts of the East Indian island of Timor we meet with a
partition of power like that which is represented by the civil king and
the fetish king of western Africa. Some of the Timorese tribes recognise
two rajahs, the ordinary or civil rajah, who governs the people, and the
fetish or taboo rajah (_radja pomali_), who is charged with the control of
everything that concerns the earth and its products. This latter ruler has
the right of declaring anything taboo; his permission must be obtained
before new land may be brought under cultivation, and he must perform
certain necessary ceremonies when the work is being carried out. If
drought or blight threatens the crops, his help is invoked to save them.
Though he ranks below the civil rajah, he exercises a momentous influence
on the course of events, for his secular colleague is bound to consult him
in all important matters. In some of the neighbouring islands, such as
Rotti and eastern Flores, a spiritual ruler of the same sort is recognised
under various native names, which all mean “lord of the ground.”(74)
Similarly in the Mekeo district of British New Guinea there is a double
chieftainship. The people are divided into two groups according to
families, and each of the groups has its chief. One of the two is the war
chief, the other is the taboo (_afu_) chief. The office of the latter is
hereditary; his duty is to impose a taboo on any of the crops, such as the
coco-nuts and areca nuts, whenever he thinks it desirable to prohibit
their use. In his office we may perhaps detect the beginning of a priestly
dynasty, but as yet his functions appear to be more magical than
religious, being concerned with the control of the harvests rather than
with the propitiation of higher powers. The members of another family are
bound to see to it that the taboo imposed by the chief is strictly
observed. For this purpose some fourteen or fifteen men of the family form
a sort of constabulary. Every evening they go round the village armed with
clubs and disguised with masks or leaves. All the time they are in office
they are forbidden to live with their wives and even to look at a woman.
Hence women may not quit their houses while the men are going their
rounds. Further, the constables on duty are prohibited from chewing betel
nut and drinking coco-nut water, lest the areca and coco-nuts should not
grow. When there is a good show of nuts, the taboo chief proclaims that on
a certain day the restriction will come to an end.(75) In Ponape, one of
the Caroline Islands, the kingship is elective within the limits of the
blood royal, which runs in the female line, so that the sovereignty passes
backwards and forwards between families which we, reckoning descent in the
male line, should regard as distinct. The chosen monarch must be in
possession of certain secrets. He must know the places where the sacred
stones are kept, on which he has to seat himself. He must understand the
holy words and prayers of the liturgy, and after his election he must
recite them at the place of the sacred stones. But he enjoys only the
honours of his office; the real powers of government are in the hands of
his prime-minister or vizier.(76)