SACRIFICE

In my last lecture I called attention to the fact that the subject of

prayer has been strangely neglected by the science of religion.

Religion, in whatever form it manifests itself, is essentially

practical; man desires to enter into communication or into communion

with his god, and in so doing he has a practical purpose in view. That

purpose may be to secure a material blessing of a particular kind, such

as victory in war or the enjoyment of the fruits of the earth in their

due season, or the purpose may be to offer thanks for a harvest and to

pray for a continuance of prosperity generally. Or the purpose of

prayer may be to ask for deliverance from material evils, such as

famine or plague. Or it may be to ask for deliverance from moral evils

and for power to do God's will. In a word, if man had no prayer to

make, the most powerful, if not the only, motive inciting him to seek

communion would be wanting. Now, to some of us it may seem _a priori_

that there is no reason why the communion thus sought in {176} prayer

should require any external rite to sanction or condition it. If that

is our _a priori_ view, we shall be the more surprised to find that in

actual fact an external rite has always been felt to be essential; and

that rite has always been and still is sacrifice, in one or other of

its forms. Or, to put the same fact in another way, public worship has

been from the beginning the condition without which private worship

could not begin and without which private worship cannot continue. To

any form of religion, whatever it be, it is essential, if it is to be

religion, that there shall be a community of worshippers and a god

worshipped. The bond which unites the worshippers with one another and

with their god is religion. From the beginning the public worship in

which the worshippers have united has expressed itself in rites--rites

of sacrifice--and in the prayers of the community. To the end, the

prayers offered are prayers to "Our Father"; and if the worshipper is

spatially separated from, he is spiritually united to, his

fellow-worshippers even in private prayer.

We may then recognise that prayer logically and ultimately implies

sacrifice in one or other of its senses; and that sacrifice as a rite

is meaningless and impossible without prayer. But if we recognise

{177} that sacrifice wherever it occurs implies prayer, then the fact

that the observers of savage or barbarous rites have described the

ritual acts of sacrifice, but have not observed or have neglected to

report the prayers implied, will not lead us into the error of

imagining that sacrifice is a rite which can exist--that it can have a

religious existence--without prayer. We may attend to either, the

sacrifice or to the prayer, as we may attend either to the concavity or

the convexity of a curve, but we may not deny the existence and

presence of the one because our attention happens to be concentrated on

the other. The relation in primitive religion of the one to the other

we may express by saying that prayer states the motive with which the

sacrifice is made, and that sacrifice is essential to the prayer, which

would not be efficacious without the sacrifice. The reason why a

community can address the god which it worships is that the god is felt

to be identified in some way with the community and to have its

interests in his charge and care. And the rite of sacrifice is felt to

make the identification more real. Prayer, again, is possible only to

the god to whom the community is known; with whom it is identified,

more or less; and with whom, when his help is required, the {178}

community seeks to identify itself more effectually. The means of that

identification without which the prayers of the community would be

ineffectual is sacrifice. The earliest form of sacrifice may probably

be taken to be the sacrifice of an animal, followed by a sacrificial

meal. Later, when the god has a stated place in which he is believed

to manifest himself,--tree or temple,--then the identification may be

effected by attaching offerings to the tree or temple. But in either

case what is sought by the offering dedicated or the meal of sacrifice

is in a word "incorporation." The worshippers desire to feel that they

are at one with the spirit whom they worship. And the desire to

experience this sense of union is particularly strong when plague or

famine makes it evident that some estrangement has taken place between

the god and the community which is normally in his care and under his

protection. The sacrifices and prayers that are offered in such a case

obviously do not open up communication for the first time between the

god and his tribe: they revive and reenforce a communion which is felt

to exist already, even though temporal misfortunes, such as drought or

famine, testify that it has been allowed by the tribe to become less

close than it ought to be, or that {179} it has been strained by

transgressions on the part of individual members of the community. But

it is not only in times of public distress that the community

approaches its god with sacrifice and prayer. It so happens that the

prayers offered for victory in war or for rain or for deliverance from

famine are instances of prayer of so marked a character that they have

forced themselves on the notice of travellers in all parts of the

world, from the Eskimo to the Australian black fellows or the negroes

of Africa. And it was to this class of prayers that I called your

attention principally in the last lecture. But they are, when we come

to think of it, essentially occasional prayers, prayers that are

offered at the great crises of tribal life, when the very existence of

the tribe is at stake. Such crises, however, by their very nature are

not regular or normal; and it would be an error to suppose that it is

only on these occasions that prayers are made by savage or barbarous

peoples. If we wish to discover the earliest form of regularly

recurring public worship, we must look for some regularly recurring

occasion for it. One such regularly recurring occasion is harvest

time, another is seed time, another is the annual ceremonial at which

the boys who {180} attain in the course of the year to the age of

manhood are initiated into the secrets or "mysteries" of the tribe.

These are the chief and perhaps the only regularly recurring occasions

of public worship as distinguished from the irregular crises of war,

pestilence, drought, and famine which affect the community as a whole,

and from the irregular occasions when the individual member of the

community prays for offspring or for delivery from sickness or for

success in the private undertaking in which he happens to be engaged.

Of the regularly recurring occasions of public worship I will select,

to begin with, the rites which are associated with harvest time. And I

will do so partly because the science of religion provides us with very

definite particulars both as to the sacrifices and as to the prayers

which are usually made on these occasions; and partly because the

prayers that are made are of a special kind and throw a fresh light on

the nature of the communion that the tribe seeks to effect by means of

the sacrificial offering.

At Saa, in the Solomon Islands, yams are offered, and the person

offering them cries in a loud voice, "This is yours to eat" (Frazer,

_G. B._^2, II, 465). In {181} the Society Islands the formula is,

"Here, Tari, I have brought you something to eat" (_ib._, 469). In

Indo-China, the invitation is the same: "Taste, O goddess, these

first-fruits which have just been reaped" (_ib._, 325). There are no

actually expressed words of thanks in these instances; but we may

safely conjecture that the offerings are thank-offerings and that the

feeling with which the offerings are made is one of gratitude and

thankfulness. Thus in Ceram we are told that first-fruits are offered

"as a token of gratitude" (_ib._, 463). On the Niger the Onitsha

formula is explicit: "I thank God for being permitted to eat the new

yam" (_ib._, 325). At Tjumba in the East Indies, "vessels filled with

rice are presented as a thank-offering to the gods" (_ib._, 462). The

people of Nias on these occasions offer thanks for the blessings

bestowed on them (_ib._, 463). By a very natural transition of thought

and feeling, thankfulness for past favours leads to prayer for the

continuance of favour in the future. Thus in Tana, in the New

Hebrides, the formula is: "Compassionate father! here is some food for

you; eat it; be kind to us on account of it" (_ib._, 464); while the

Basutos say: "Thank you, gods; give us bread to-morrow also" (_ib._,

459); and in Tonga the prayers {182} made at the offering of

first-fruits implore the protection of the gods, and beseech them for

welfare generally, though in especial for the fruits of the earth

(_ib._, 466).

The prayers of primitive man which I quoted in my last lecture were in

the nature of petitions or requests, as was natural and indeed

inevitable in view of the fact that they were preferred on occasions

when the tribe was in exceptional distress and required the aid of the

gods on whose protection the community relied. But the prayers which I

have just quoted are not in their essence petitions or requests, even

though in some cases they tend to become so. They are essentially

prayers of thanksgiving and the offerings made are thank-offerings.

Thus our conception of primitive prayer must be extended to include

both mental attitudes--that of thankfulness for past or present

blessings as well as the hope of blessings yet to come. And inasmuch

as sacrifice is the concomitant of prayer, we must recognise that

sacrificial offerings also serve as the expression of both mental

attitudes. And we must note that in the regularly recurring form of

public or tribal worship with which we are now dealing the dominant

feeling to which expression is given is {183} that of thankfulness.

The tribe seeks for communion with its god for the purpose of

expressing its thanks. Even the savage who simply says, "Here, Tari, I

have brought you something to eat," or, still more curtly, "This is

yours to eat," is expressing thanks, albeit in savage fashion. And the

means which the savage adopts for securing that communion which he

seeks to renew regularly with the tribal god is a sacrificial meal, of

which the god and his worshippers partake. Throughout the whole

ceremony, whether we regard the spoken words or the acts performed,

there is no suggestion of magic and no possibility of twisting the

ceremony into a piece of magic intended to produce some desired result

or to exercise any constraint over the powers to which the ceremony is

addressed. The mental attitude is that of thankfulness.

Now, it is, I venture to suggest, impossible to dissociate from the

first-fruits ceremonials which I have described the ceremonies observed

by Australian black fellows on similar occasions. And it is also

impossible to overlook the differences between the ceremony in

Australia and the ceremony elsewhere. In Australia, as elsewhere, when

the time of year arrives at which the food becomes fit for eating,

{184} a ceremony has to be performed before custom permits the food to

be eaten freely. In Australia, as elsewhere, a ceremonial eating, a

sacramental meal, has to take place. But whereas elsewhere the god of

the community is expressly invited to partake of the sacramental meal,

even though he be not mentioned by name and though the invitation take

the curt form of "This is yours to eat," in Australia no words whatever

are spoken; the person who performs the ceremony performs it indeed

with every indication of reverential feeling, he eats solemnly and

sparingly, that is to say formally and because the eating is a matter

of ritual, but no reference is made by him so far as we know, to any

god. How then are we to explain the absence of any such reference?

There seems to me to be only one explanation which is reasonably

possible. It is that in the Australian ceremony, which would be

perfectly intelligible and perfectly in line with the ceremony as it

occurs everywhere else, the reference to the god who is or was invited

to partake of the first-fruits has in the process of time and, we must

add, in the course of religious decay, gradually dropped out. The

invitation may never have been more ample than the curt form, "This is

yours to eat." Even in the {185} absence of any verbal invitation

whatever, a gesture may long have sufficed to indicate what was in the

mind and was implied by the act of the savage performing the ceremony.

Words may not have been felt necessary to explain what every person

present at the ceremony knew to be the purpose of the rite. But in the

absence of any verbal formula whatever the purpose and meaning of the

rite would be apt to pass out of mind, to evaporate, even though custom

maintained, as it does in Australia to this day maintain, the punctual

and punctilious performance of the outward ceremony. I suggest,

therefore, that in Australia, as elsewhere, the solemn eating of the

first-fruits has been a sacramental meal of which both the god and his

worshippers were partakers. The alternative is to my mind much less

probable: it is to use the Australian ceremony as it now exists to

explain the origin of the ceremony as we find it elsewhere. In

Australia it is not now apparently associated with the worship of any

god; therefore it may be argued in other countries also it was not

originally part of the worship of any god either. If, then, it was not

an act of public worship originally, how are we to understand it? The

suggestion is that the fruits of the earth or the animals which become

the food of {186} man are, until they become fit for eating, regarded

as sacred or taboo, and therefore may not be eaten. That suggestion

derives some support from the fact that in Australia anything that is

eaten may be a totem and being a totem is taboo. But if it is thus

sacred, then in order to be eaten it must be "desacralised," the taboo

must be taken off. And it is suggested that that precisely is what is

effected by the ceremonial eating of the totem by the headman of the

totem clan: the totem is desacralised by the mere fact that it is

formally and ceremonially eaten by the headman, after which it may be

consumed by others as an ordinary article of food. But this

explanation of the first-fruits ceremony is based upon an assumption

which is contrary to the facts of the case as it occurs in Australia.

It assumes that the plant or the animal until desacralised is taboo to

all members of the tribe, and that none of them can eat it until it has

been desacralised by the ceremonial eating. But the assumption is

false; the plant or animal is sacred and taboo only to members of the

clan whose totem it is. It is not sacred to the vast majority of the

tribe, for they have totems of their own; to them it is not sacred or

taboo, they may kill it--and they do--without breaking any taboo. The

ceremonial {187} eating of the first-fruits raises no taboo as far as

the tribe generally is concerned, for the plant or animal is not taboo

to them. As far as the tribe generally is concerned, no process of

desacralisation takes place and none is effected by the ceremonial

eating. It is the particular totem group alone which is affected by

the ceremony; and the inference which it seems to me preferable to draw

is that the ceremonial eating of the first-fruits is, or rather has

been, in Australia what it is elsewhere, viz. an instance of prayer and

sacrifice in which the worshippers of a god are brought into

periodic--in this case annual--communion with their god. The

difference between the Australian case and others seems to be that in

the other cases the god who partakes of the first-fruits is the god of

the whole community, while in Australia he is the god of the particular

totem group and is analogous to the family gods who are worshipped

elsewhere, even where there is a tribal or national god to be

worshipped as well.

We are then inclined, for these and other reasons, to explain the

ceremonial eating of the totem plant or animal in Australia by the

analogy of the ceremonial eating of first-fruits elsewhere, and to

regard the ceremony as being in all cases an act of worship, {188} in

which at harvest time the worshippers of a god seek communion with him

by means of sacrifice and prayers of thanksgiving. But if we take this

view of the sacrifice and prayers offered at harvest time, we shall be

inclined to regard the rites which are performed at seed time, or the

period analogous to it, as being also possibly, in part, of a religious

character. In the case of agricultural peoples it is beyond doubt that

some of the ceremonies are religious in character: where the food plant

is itself regarded as a deity or the mode in which a deity is

manifested, not only may there be at harvest time a sacramental meal in

which, as amongst the Aztecs, the deity is formally "communicated" to

his worshippers, but at seed time sacrifice and prayer may be made to

the deity. Such a religious ceremony, whatever be the degree of

civilisation or semicivilisation which has been reached by those who

observe the ceremony, does not of course take the place of the

agricultural operations which are necessary if the fruits are to be

produced in due season. And the combination of the religious rites and

the agricultural operations does not convert the agricultural

operations into magical operations, or prove that the religious rites

are merely pieces of magic {189} intended to constrain the superior

power of the deity concerned. Indeed, if among the operations

performed at seed time we find some that from the point of view of

modern science are perfectly ineffectual, as vain as eating tiger to

make you bold, we shall be justified in regarding them as pieces of

primitive science, eventually discarded indeed in the progress of

advancing knowledge, but originally practised (on the principle that

like produces like) as the natural means of producing the effect

desired. If we so regard them, we shall escape the error of

considering them to be magical; and we shall have no difficulty in

distinguishing them from the religious rites which may be combined with

them. Further, where harvest time is marked by the offering of

sacrifice and prayers of thanksgiving, we may not unreasonably take it

that the religious rites observed at seed time or the period analogous

to it are in the nature of sacrifice and prayers addressed to the

appropriate deity to beseech him to favour the growth of the plant or

animal in question. In a word, the practice of giving thanks to a god

at harvest time for the harvest creates a reasonable presumption that

prayer is offered to him at seed time; and if thanks are given at a

period analogous to {190} harvest time by a people like the Australian

black fellows, who have no domesticated plants or animals, prayers of

the nature of petitions may be offered by them at the period analogous

to seed time.

The deity to whom prayers are offered at the one period and

thanksgiving is made at the other may be, as in the case of the Aztec

Xilonen, or the Hindoo Maize-mother, the spirit of the plant envisaged

as a deity; or may be, not a "departmental" deity of this kind, but a

supreme deity having power over all things. But when we turn from the

regularly recurring acts of public worship connected with seed time and

harvest to the regularly recurring ceremonies at which the boys of a

tribe are initiated into the duties and rights of manhood, it is

obvious that the deity concerned in them, even if we assume (as is by

no means necessary) that he was originally "departmental" and at first

connected merely with the growth of a plant or animal, must be regarded

at the initiation ceremonies as a god having in his care all the

interests of that tribe of which the boys to be initiated are about to

become full members. Unmistakable traces of such a deity are found

amongst the Australian black fellows in the "father of all," "the

all-father" described by Mr. Howitt. The {191} worship of the

"all-father" is indeed now of a fragmentary kind; but it fortunately

happens that in the case of one tribe, the Euahlayi, we have evidence,

rescued by Mrs. Langloh Parker, to show that prayer is offered to

Byamee; the Euahlayi pray to him for long life, because they have kept

his law. The nature of Byamee's law may safely be inferred from the

fact that at this festival, both amongst the Euahlayi and other

Australians, the boys who are being initiated are taught the moral laws

or the customary morality of the tribe. But though prayers are still

offered by the Euahlayi and may have at one time been offered by all

the Australian tribes, there is no evidence at present to show that the

prayer is accompanied by a sacrifice, as is customary amongst tribes

whose worship has not disintegrated so much as is the case amongst the

Australians.

The ceremonies by which boys are admitted to the status of manhood are,

probably amongst all the peoples of the earth who observe them, of a

religious character, for the simple reason that the community to which

the boy is admitted when he attains the age of manhood is a community,

united together by religious bonds as a community worshipping the same

god or gods; and it is to the {192} worship and the service of these

gods that he is admitted. But the ceremonies themselves vary too much

to allow of our drawing from them any valuable or important conclusion

as to the nature and import of sacrifice as a religious institution.

On the other hand, the ceremonies observed at harvest time, or the

analogous period, have, wherever they occur, such marked similarity

among themselves, and the institution of prayer and sacrifice is such a

prominent feature in them, that the evidence they afford must be

decisive for us in attempting to form a theory of sacrifice. Nor can

we dissociate the ceremonies observed in spring from the harvest

ceremonies; as Dr. Frazer remarks (_G. B._, II, 190), "Plainly these

spring and harvest customs are based on the same ancient modes of

thought and form parts of the same primitive heathendom." What, then,

are these "ancient modes of thought" and what the primitive customs

based upon them? We may, I think, classify them in four groups. If we

are to take first those instances in which the "ancient mode of

thought" is most clearly expressed--whether because they are the most

fully developed or because they retain the ancient mode most faithfully

and with the least disintegration--we must {193} turn to ancient Mexico

and Peru. In Mexico a paste idol or dough image of the god was made;

the priest hurled a dart into its breast; and this was called the

killing of the god, "so that his body might be eaten." The dough image

was broken and the pieces were given in the manner of a communion to

the people, "who received it with such tears, fear, and reverence, as

it was an admirable thing," says Father Acosta, "saying that they did

eat the flesh and bones of God." Or, again, an image of the goddess

Chicomecoatl was made of dough and exhibited by the priest, saying,

"This is your god." All kinds of maize, beans, etc., were offered to

it and then were eaten in the temple "in a general scramble, take who

could." In Peru ears of maize were dressed in rich garments and

worshipped as the Mother of the Maize; or little loaves of maize

mingled with the blood of sheep were made; the priest gave to each of

the people a morsel of these loaves, "and all did receive and eat these

pieces," and prayed that the god "would show them favour, granting them

children and happy years and abundance and all that they required." In

this, the first group of instances, it is plain beyond all possibility

of gainsaying that the spring and harvest customs consist {194} of the

worship of a god, of sacrifice and prayers to him, and of a communion

which bound the worshippers to one another and to him.

Our second group of instances consists of cases in which the corn or

dough or paste is not indeed made into the form or image of a god, but,

as Dr. Frazer says (_G. B._ II, 318), "the new corn is itself eaten

sacramentally, that is, as the body of the corn spirit." The spirit

thus worshipped may not yet have acquired a proper name; the only

designation used may have been such a one as the Hindoo Bhogaldai,

meaning simply Cotton-mother. Indeed, even amongst the Peruvians, the

goddess had not yet acquired a proper name, but was known only as the

Mother of the Maize. But precisely because the stage illustrated in

our second group of instances is not so highly developed as in Mexico

or Peru it is much more widely spread. It is found in the East Indian

island of Euro, amongst the Alfoors of Minahassa, in the Celebes, in

the Neilgherry Hills of South India, in the Hindoo Koosh, in

Indo-China, on the Niger, amongst the Zulus and the Pondos, and amongst

the Creek, Seminole, and Natchez Indians (_ib._ 321-342). In this, the

second group of instances, then, though the god {195} may have no

special, proper, name, and though no image of him is made out of the

dough or paste, still "the new corn is itself eaten sacramentally, that

is as the body of the corn spirit"; by means of the sacramental eating,

of sacrifice and prayer, communion between the god and his worshippers

is renewed and maintained.

The third group of instances consists of the harvest customs of

northern Europe--the harvest supper and the rites of the Corn-mother or

the Corn-maiden or the Kern Baby. It can scarcely be contended that

these rites and customs, so far as they survive at the present day,

retain, if they ever had, any religious value; they are performed as a

matter of tradition and custom and not because any one knows why they

are performed. But that they originally had a meaning--even though now

it has evaporated--cannot be doubted. Nor can it be doubted that the

meaning, if it is to be recovered, must be recovered by means of the

comparative method. And, if the comparative method is to be applied,

the Corn-mother of northern Europe cannot be dissociated from the

Maize-mother of ancient Peru. But if we go thus far, then we must,

with Dr. Frazer (_ib._ 288), recognise "clearly the {196} sacramental

character of the harvest-supper," in which, "as a substitute for the

real flesh of the divine being, bread and dumplings are made and eaten

sacramentally." Thus, once more, harvest customs testify in northern

Europe, as elsewhere, to the fact that there was once a stated, annual,

period at which communion between the god and his worshipper was sought

by prayer and sacrifice.

The North-European harvest customs are further interesting and

important because, if they are clearly connected on the one hand with

the groups of instances already given, they are also connected on the

other with the group to which we have yet to call attention. Thus far

the wheat or maize, if not eaten in the form of little loaves or cakes,

has been made into a dough image, or else the ears of maize have been

dressed in rich garments to indicate that they represent the Mother of

the Maize; and in Europe also both forms of symbolism are found. But

in northern Europe, the corn spirit is also believed to be manifested,

Dr. Frazer says, in "the animal which is present in the corn and is

caught or killed in the last sheaf." The animal may be a wolf, dog,

cock, hare, cat, goat, bull, cow, horse, or pig. "The animal is slain

and its flesh and blood are partaken {197} of by the harvesters," and,

Dr. Frazer says, "these customs bring out clearly the sacramental

character of the harvest supper." Now, this manifestation of the corn

spirit in animal form is not confined to Europe; it occurs for instance

in Guinea and in all the provinces and districts of China. And it is

important as forming a link between the agricultural and the

pre-agricultural periods; in Dr. Frazer's words, "hunting and pastoral

tribes, as well as agricultural peoples, have been in the habit of

killing their gods" (_ib._ 366). In the pastoral period, as well as in

agricultural times, the god who is worshipped by the tribe and with

whom the tribe seeks communion by means of prayer and sacrifice, may

manifest himself in animal form, and "the animal is slain and its flesh

and blood are partaken of."

We now come to the fourth and the last of our groups of instances. It

consists of the rites observed by Australian tribes. Amongst these

tribes too there is what Dr. Frazer terms "a sacramental eating" of the

totem plant or animal. Thus Central Australian black men of the

kangaroo totem eat a little kangaroo flesh, as a sacrament (Spencer and

Gillen, p. 204 ff.). Now, it is impossible, I think, to {198}

dissociate the Australian rite, to separate this fourth group, from the

three groups already described. In Australia, as in the other cases,

the customs are observed in spring and harvest time, and in harvest

time, in Australia as well as elsewhere, there is a solemn and sparing

eating of the plant or animal; and, in Dr. Frazer's words, "plainly

these spring and harvest customs are based on the same ancient modes of

thought, and form part of the same primitive heathendom." What, then,

is this ancient and primitive mode of thought? In all the cases except

the Australian, the thought manifestly implied and expressed is that by

the solemn eating of the plant or the animal, or the dough image or

paste idol, or the little loaves, the community enters into communion

with its god, or renews communion with him. On this occasion the

Peruvians prayed for children, happy years and abundance. On this

occasion, even among the Australians, the Euahlayi tribe pray for long

life, because they have kept Byamee's law. It would not, therefore, be

unreasonable to interpret the Australian custom by the same ancient

mode of thought which explains the custom wherever else--and that is

all over the world--it is found. But perhaps, if we can find some

other interpretation {199} of the Australian custom, we should do

better to reverse the process and explain the spring and harvest

customs which are found elsewhere by means of, and in accordance with,

the Australian custom. Now another interpretation of the Australian

custom has been put forward by Dr. Frazer. He treats the Australian

ceremony as being a piece of pure magic, the purpose of which is to

promote the growth and increase of the plants and animals which provide

the black fellows with food. But if we start from this point of view,

we must go further and say that amongst other peoples than the

Australian the killing of the representative animal of the spirit of

vegetation is, in Dr. Frazer's words, "a magical rite intended to

assure the revival of nature in spring." And if that is the nature of

the rite which appears in northern Europe as the harvest supper, it

will also be the nature of the rite as it appears both in our second

group of instances, where the corn is eaten "as the body of the

corn-spirit," and in the first group, where the dough image or paste

idol was eaten in Mexico as the flesh and bones of the god. That this

line of thought runs through Dr. Frazer's _Golden Bough_, in its second

edition, is indicated by the fact that the rite is spoken of throughout

as a {200} sacrament. That the Mexican rite as described in our first

group is sacramental, is clear. Of the rites which form our second

group of instances, Dr. Frazer says that the corn-spirit, or god, "is

killed in the person of his representative and eaten sacramentally,"

and that "the new corn is itself eaten sacramentally; that is, as the

body of the corn-spirit" (p. 318). Of the North European rites, again,

he says, "the animal is slain and its flesh and blood are partaken of

by the harvesters"--"these customs bring out clearly the sacramental

character of the harvest supper"--"as a substitute for the real flesh

of the divine being, bread or dumplings are made in his image and eaten

sacramentally." Finally, even when speaking of the Australians as men

who have no gods to worship, and with whom the rite is pure and

unadulterated magic, he yet describes the rite as a sacrament.

Now if, on the one hand, from its beginning amongst the Australians to

the form which it finally took amongst the Mexicans the rite is, as Dr.

Frazer systematically calls it, a sacrament; and if, on the other, it

is, in Dr. Frazer's words, "a magical rite intended to assure the

revival of nature in spring," then the conclusion which the reader

cannot help {201} drawing is that a sacrament, or this sacrament at

least, is in its origin, and in its nature throughout, a piece of

magic. Religion is but magic written in different characters; and for

those who can interpret them it spells the same thing. But though this

is the conclusion to which Dr. Frazer's argument leads, and to which in

the first edition of his _Golden Bough_ it clearly seemed to point; in

the preface to the second edition he formally disavows it. He

recognises that religion does not spring from magic, but is

fundamentally opposed to it. A sacrament, therefore, we may infer,

cannot be a piece of magic. The Australian sacrament, therefore, as

Dr. Frazer calls it, cannot, we should be inclined to say, be a piece

of magic. But Dr. Frazer still holds that the Australian rite or

sacrament is pure magic--religious it cannot be, for in Dr. Frazer's

view the Australians know no religion and have no gods.

Now if the rite as it occurs in Australia is pure magic, and if

religion is not a variety of magic but fundamentally different from it,

then the rite which, as it occurs everywhere else, is religious, cannot

be derived from, or a variety of, the Australian piece of magic; and

the spring and harvest customs which are found in Australia cannot be

"based on the {202} same ancient modes of thought or form part of the

same primitive heathendom" as the sacramental rites which are found

everywhere else in the world. The solemn annual eating of the totem

plant or animal in Australia must have a totally different basis from

that on which the sacrament and communion stands in every other part of

the globe: in Australia it is based on magic, elsewhere on that which

is, according to Dr. Frazer, fundamentally different and opposed to

magic, viz. religion. Before, however, we commit ourselves to this

conclusion, we may be allowed to ask, What is it that compels us thus

to sever the Australian from the other forms of the rite? The reply

would seem to be that, whereas the other forms are admittedly

religious, the Australian is "a magical rite intended to assure the

revival of nature in spring." Now, if that were really the nature of

the Australian rite, we might have to accept the conclusion to which we

hesitate to commit ourselves. But, as a matter of fact, the Australian

rite is not intended to assure the revival of nature in spring, and has

nothing magical about it. It is perfectly true that in spring in

Australia certain proceedings are performed which are based upon the

principle that like produces like; and {203} that these proceedings

are, by students of the science of religion, termed--perhaps

incorrectly--magical. But these spring customs are quite different

from the harvest customs; and it is the harvest customs which

constitute the link between the rite in Australia and the rite in the

rest of the world. The crucial question, therefore, is whether the

Australian harvest rite is magical, or is even based on the principle

that like produces like. And the answer is that it is plainly not.

The harvest rite in Australia consists, as we know it now, simply in

the fact that at the appointed time a little of the totem plant or

animal is solemnly and sparingly eaten by the headman of the totem.

The solemnity with which the rite is performed is unmistakable, and may

well be termed religious. And no attempt even, so far as I am aware,

has been made to show that this solemn eating is regarded as magic by

the performers of the rite, or how it can be so regarded by students of

the science of religion. Until the attempt is made and made

successfully, we are more than justified in refusing to regard the rite

as magical; we are bound to refuse to regard it as such. But if the

rite is not magical--and _a fortiori_ if it is, as Dr. Frazer terms it,

sacramental--then it is {204} religious; and the ancient mode of

thought, forming part of primitive heathendom, which is at the base of

the rite, is the conviction that manifests itself wherever the rite

continues to live, viz. that by prayer and sacrifice the worshippers in

any community are brought into communion with the god they worship.

The rite is, in truth, what Dr. Frazer terms it as it occurs in

Australia--a sacrament. But not even in Australia is a sacrament a

piece of magic.

In the animistic stage of the evolution of humanity, the only causes

man can conceive of are animated things; and, in the presence of any

occurrence sufficiently striking to arrest his attention, the questions

which present themselves to his mind are, Who did this thing, and why?

Occurrences which arrest the attention of the community are occurrences

which affect the community; and in a low stage of evolution, when the

most pressing of all practical questions is how to live, the

occurrences which most effectually arrest attention are those which

affect the food supply of the community. If, then, the food supply

fails, the occurrence is due to some of the personal, or

quasi-personal, powers by whom the community is surrounded; and the

reason why such power so acted is found in the wrath which {205} must

have actuated him. The situation is abnormal, for famine is abnormal;

and it indicates anger and wrath on the part of the power who brought

it about. But it also implies that when things go on in the normal

way,--when the relations between the spirit and the community are

normal,--the attitude of the spirit to the community is peaceable and

friendly. Not only, however, does the community desire to renew

peaceable and friendly relations, where pestilence or famine show that

they have been disturbed: the community also desires to benefit by them

when they are in their normal condition. The spirits that can disturb

the normal conditions by sending pestilence or famine can also assist

the community in undertakings, the success of which is indispensable if

the community is to maintain its existence; for instance, those

undertakings on which the food supply of the community depends. Hence

the petitions which are put up at seed time, or, in the

pre-agricultural period, at seasons analogous to seed time. Hence,

also, the rites at harvest time or the analogous season, rites which

are instituted and developed for the purpose of maintaining friendly

relation and communion between the community, and the spirit whose

favour {206} is sought and whose anger is dreaded by the community.

Such sacrificial rites may indeed be interpreted as the making of gifts

to the gods; and they do, as a matter of fact, often come so to be

regarded by those who perform them. From this undeniable fact the

inference may then be drawn, and by many students of the science of

religion it is inferred, that from the beginning there was in such

sacrificial rites no other intention than to bribe the god or to

purchase his favour and the good things he had to give. But the

inference, which, when properly limited, has some truth in it, becomes

misleading when put forward as being the whole truth. Unless there

were some truth in it, the rite of sacrifice could never have developed

into the form which was denounced by the Hebrew prophets and

mercilessly exposed by Plato. But had that been the whole truth, the

rite would have been incapable of discharging the really religious

function which it has in its history fulfilled. That function has been

to place and maintain the society which practises it in communion with

its god. Doubtless in the earliest stages of the history of the rite,

the communion thus felt to be established was prized and was mainly

sought for the external blessings which were believed {207} to follow

from it, or, as a means to avert the public disasters which a breach of

communion entailed. Doubtless it was only by degrees, and by slow

degrees, that the communion thus established came to be regarded as

being in itself the end which the rite of sacrifice was truly intended

to attain. But the communion of the worshippers with their god was not

a purpose originally foreign to the rite, and which, when introduced,

transformed the rite from what it at first was into something radically

different. On the contrary, it was present, even though not prominent

or predominant, from the beginning; and the rite, as a religious

institution, followed different lines of evolution, according as the

one aspect or the other was developed. Where the aspect under which

the sacrificial rite was regarded was that the offering was a gift made

to the deity in order to secure some specified temporal advantage, the

religious value of the rite diminished to the vanishing point in the

eyes both of those who, like Plato, could see the intrinsic absurdity

of pretending to make gifts to Him from whom alone all good things

come, and of those who felt that the sacrificial rite so conceived did

not afford the spiritual communion for which they yearned. Where even

the {208} sacrificial rite was regarded as a means whereby communion

between the worshipper and his god was attained or maintained, the

emphasis might be thrown on the rite and its due performance rather

than on the spiritual communion of which it was the condition. That is

to say, with the growth of formalism attention was concentrated on the

ritual and correspondingly withdrawn from the prayer which, from the

beginning, had been of the essence of the rite. By the rite of

sacrifice the community had always been brought into the presence of

the god it worshipped; and, in the prayers then offered on behalf of

the society, the society had been brought into communion with its god.

From that communion it was possible to fall away, even though the

performance of the rite was maintained. The very object of that

communion might be misinterpreted and mistaken to be a means merely to

temporal blessings for the community, or even to personal advantages

for the individual. Or the punctilious performance of each and every

detail of the rite might tend to become an end in itself and displace

the spiritual communion, the attainment of which had been from the

beginning the highest, even if not the only or the most prominent,

{209} end which the rite might subserve. The difference between the

possibilities which the rite might have realised and the actual

purposes for which it had come to be used before the birth of Christ is

a difference patent to the most casual observer of the facts. The

dissatisfaction felt alike by Plato and the Hebrew prophets with the

rite as it had come to be practised may be regarded, if we choose so to

regard it, as the necessary consequence of pre-existing facts, and as

necessarily entailing the rejection or the reconstitution of the rite.

As a matter of history, the rite was reconstituted and not rejected;

and as reconstituted it became the central fact of the Christian

religion. It became the means whereby, through Christ, all men might

be brought to God. We may say, if we will, that a new meaning was put

into the rite, or that its true meaning was now made manifest. The

facts themselves clearly indicate that from the beginning the rite was

the means whereby a society sought or might seek communion with its

god. They also indicate that the rite of animal sacrifice came to be

found insufficient as a means. It was through our Lord that mankind

learned what sacrifice was needed--learned to "offer and present unto

thee, O Lord, ourselves, our {210} souls and bodies, to be a

reasonable, holy and lively sacrifice unto thee." That is the

sacrifice Christ showed us the example of; that is the example which

the missionary devotes himself to follow and to teach.

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