'-.••rhi,:.;-:''- ;:• ,.;_,■y,v^■•^'{^^v -'M>vj\'^ ^;5i!' i^ti^ ^ PRINCETON, N. J. BL 48 .M8 1892 M uller, F. Max 1823-1900 Anthropological religion Shelf ANTHROPOLOGICAL RELIGION 21 AX MULLER (3) Oxford HORACE HART, PRINTER TO THE UNIVERSITY ANTHROPOLOGICAL RELIGION €^e (B^iffotrb Becfutree DELIVERED BEFOJRE THE UNIVERSITY OF GLASGOW IN 1891 BY / .. F. MAX MULLER, K.M. FOREIGN MEMBER OF THE FRENCH INSTITUTE LONDON LONGMANS, GREEN, AND CO. AND NEW YORK : 15 EAST 16th STREET 1892 [J.W rights reserved} Digitized by the Internet Archive in 2008 with funding from IVIicrosoft Corporation http://www.archive.org/details/anthropologicalrOOml PREFACE, In lecturing before the Members of the University of Glasgow, on the origin and the growth of religion my chief object has been to show that a belief in God, in the immortality of the soul, and in a future retri- bution can be gained, and not only can be, but has been gained by the right exercise of human reason alone, without the assistance of what has been called a special revelation. I have tried to prove this, not, as others have done, by reasoning a priori only, but by historical investigation ; I have tried to gather in some of the harvest which is plenteous, but which requires far more labourers than are working in this field at present. In doing this, I thought I was simply following in the footsteps of the greatest theologians of our time, and that I was serving the cause of true religion by showing by ample historical evidence, gathered from the Sacred Books of the East, how what St. Paul, what the Fathers of the Church, what mediaeval theologians, and what some of the most learned of modern Divines had asserted again and again was most strikingly confirmed by the records of all non-Christian religions which have lately become accessible to us by the patient researches of Oriental VI PREFACE. scholars, more particularly by the students of the ancient literature of India. I could not have believed it possible that in under- taking this work, I should have exposed myself to attacks from theologians who profess and call them- selves Christians, and who yet maintain that worst of all heresies that during all the centuries that have elapsed and in all the countries of the world, God has left Himself without a witness, and has revealed Him- self to one race only, the most stiff-necked of all the Semitic races, the Jews of Palestine. I was glad to hear that these attacks emanated chiefly from Roman Catholic priests, carrying on at present an active pro- paganda at Glasgow, from men who consider not only the heathen, but all who are not Roman-Catholics, more particularly all honest searchers after truth, as outside the love of God. Yet, they are the same men who represent John H. Newman as the highest pattern of Christian orthodoxy. But I must be permitted to doubt whether they have ever had time to read his writings. For who has spoken more frankly and more powerfully of what has been achieved by Natural, as distinguished from Supernatural religion than New- man? Who knew better than Newman how near the wisest and best among Greeks and Romans had come to the truths of Christianity ? ' I know,' he writes in his Apologia (p. 243), ' that even the unaided reason, when correctly exercised, leads to a belief in God, in the immortality of the soul, and in a future retribution.' Is this so very different from what I have said, and what I have tried to prove by historical evidence ? Whatever Newman may have been, he PREFACE. Vll knew at all events Greek and Latin, and to know these languages and the thoughts contained in their literature is an excellent preservative against that narrow-mindedness and un-Christian intolerance which one hoped would by this time have become extinct, at least among the more highly educated members of the Roman-Catholic priesthood. But it seems that I have given still greater offence by what I have said about the naturalness of mii^acles than by my defence of Natural Religion. I do not see, however, after reading all that my adversaries have written, that I can retract a single word or modify in the least what I have said about certain miracles. To believe in miracles seems to be in the eyes of my opponents the one great test of orthodoxy. But they ought surely to know, if they are acquainted with the recent theological literature on miracles, that the whole controversy about miracles turns on the definition which is given of that term. Let me refer my opponents again to Dr. Newman, who says in so many words : ' Most miracles are a con- tinuation or augmentation of natural processes. For instance, there is said^ to be something like manna in the desert ordinarily, and the sacred narrative mentions a wind as blowing up the waters of the Red Sea, and so in numerous other miracles'; that is to say, the manna from heaven was not a physical miracle, but an ordinary event, ignorantly mistaken for a miracle, and the passing of the Red Sea was simply the effect of the wind blowing up the waters. Surely to admit so much is to admit everything : or ^ Contemporary Kevieiv, July, 1891, p. 48. Vlll PREFACE. at all events, to admit the fundamental principle of what is contemptuously called the German or critical school. It is true that Dr. Newman excepts some miracles, but who is to judge which miracles are to be excepted, and which are to be interpreted as natural events, misapprehended by those who witnessed and those who recorded them, whether in the Old or in the New Testament ? It should be remembered also that the miracle of the Manna in the Desert is a miracle to which Christ referred (St. John vi. 31), but which as usual He interpreted in a higher sense, when He said : ' Verily, verily, I say unto you, Moses gave you not that bread from heaven, but my Father giveth you the true bread from heaven. For the bread of God is he which cometh down from heaven, and giveth life unto the world.' But let us now turn to Protestant theolos^ians. The present Bishop of London can hardly be considered a very dangerous heretic. But what does he say about miracles in his Bampton Lectures, preached before the University of Oxford in 1884 ? First of all, with re- gard to the old question of historical evidence, he waves aside the whole of the miracles of the Old Testament. He shows what historical evidence there is for the miracles of the New Testament, and then proceeds : ' No such evidence can now be produced on behalf of the mu-acles of the Old Testament. The times are remote, the date and authorship of the Books not established with certainty ; the mixture of poetry with history no longer capable of any sure separation, and, if the New Testament did not exist, it would be impossible to show such a distinct preponderance of probability PREFACE. IX as would justify us in calling on any to accept the miraculous parts of the narrative as historically true.' From a purely historical point of view he rightly considers the evidence for the miracles in the New Testament far stronger than the evidence for the miracles in the Old Testament, but even of these he admits (p. 150) 'that without the satisfaction which the Bible gives to the conscience, no miracles, how- ever overwhelmingly attested, no external evidence whatever, would have compelled intellects of the highest rank side by side with the most uncultivated and the most barren, to accept the Christian teaching as divine.' And again (p. 157) he lays it down as a general principle that ' the supernatural in the form of miracles can never be the highest kind of evidence.' When the Bishop proceeds to discuss certain classes of miracles, he goes nearly as far as Cardinal Newman. 'The miraculous healing,' he writes (p. 195), 'may be no miracle in the strictest sense at all. It may be but an instance of the power of mind over body, a power which is undeniably not yet brought within the range of Science, and which nevertheless may be really within its domain. In other ways what seems to be miraculous, may be simply unusual.' Here we see how everything depends on the defini- tion of a miracle or of what is usual and not usual. Miracle, like all words, has had a long history. There is a time in the history of human thought when such a distinction is altogether unknown. Then follows a time when all is supernatural, when the blue sky and the daily rising of the sun are marvels. After that, with the increase of human knowledge, certain X PREFACE. segments of our experience are separated and labelled natural. And why ? Because they return with great regularity, and thus lead us to suppose that we under- stand them and can account for them. As these seg- ments become larger and larger, the residue of what we cannot understand and account for grows smaller and smaller, and if once the human mind has arrived at the conviction that everytiiing must be accounted for, or, as it is sometimes expressed, that there is uniformity, that there is law and order in everything, and that an unbroken chain of cause and effect holds the whole universe together, then the idea of the miraculous arises, and we, weak human creatures, call what is not intelligible to us, what is not in accordance with law, what seems to break through the chain of cause and effect, a mii-acle. Every miracle, therefore, is of our own making, and of our own unmaking. In one sense every suni'ise is a miracle. Mohammed speaks of it as the greatest of all miracles. But very soon it became a matter of course and ceased to be a miracle. Then, when the daily rising and setting of the sun had ceased to be a miracle, the sudden darkening of the sun or of the moon struck the human mind as irregular, till solar and lunar eclipses too could be accounted for. But as their regular recurrence could be understood and predicted by the few only, it is not surprising that these few, call them sages, or prophets, or priests, should occasionally have appealed to these startling events as manifestations of a divine will, or as a contii-mation of the authority which they wished to exercise over the less enlightened masses. PREFACE. XI Even in our days, suppose a miracle had been worked, would it not be the greatest presumption for science to say that it was a miracle ? ' To prove it to be a miracle,' to quote Dr. Temple's words once more (p. 30), ' would require not a vast range of knowledge, but absolutely universal knowledge.' A comparative study of religions shows that there is hardly any religion which in its later, if not in its original stages, has not been infected by miracles. Dr. Stokes has lately called attention to the fact that in the history of the Christian religion also we see that one of the earliest, if not the earliest known apologist of Christianity, the philosopher Aristides, at the beginning of the second century, does not lay any stress on ordinary miracles or prophecy in support of the truth of Christianity. In his lately discovered Apology before Hadrian, or Antoninus Pius, Aris- tides speaks of Jesus Christ as the Son of God Most High, and he adds, 'it is said that God came down from heaven, and from a Hebrew virgin took and clad Himself with flesh, and in a daughter of man there dwelt the Son of God.' And again : ' He was pierced by the Jews, and He died and was buried, and they say that after three days. He rose and ascended to heaven.' His own faith in God still breathes a purely Platonic spirit. He begins his Apology by saying : ' I, O king, by the grace of God came into this world : and having contemplated the heavens and the earth and the seas, and beheld the sun and the rest of the orderly creation, I was amazed at the arrangement of the world ; and I comprehended that the world and all that is therein are moved by the impulse of another, and I understood that He that moveth them is God, who is hidden in XU PREFxiCE. them and concealed from them ; and this is well known that that which moveth is more powerful than that which is moved. And that I should investigate concerning this mover of all, as to how He exists — for this is evident to me, for He is incomprehensible in His nature — and that I should dispute concerning the steadfastness of His government, so as to comprehend it fully, is not profitable for me ; for no one is able perfectly to comprehend it. But I say concerning the mover of the world, that He is God of all, who made all for the sake of man ; and it is evident to me that this is expedient, that one should fear God and not grieve Him. Now, I say that God is not begotten, not made ; a constant nature, without beginning and without end ; immortal, complete, and incompre- hensible ; and in saying that He is complete, I mean this — that there is no defining in Him, and He stands in need of nought, but everything stands in need of Him : and in saying that He is with- out beginning, I mean this— that everything which has a beginning has also an end, and that which has an end is dissoluble. He has no name, for everything which has a name is associated with the created. He has no likeness, nor composition of members, for he who possesses this, is associated with things fashioned. He is not made, nor is He male or female. The heavens do not contain Him, but the heavens and all things visible and invisible are contained in Him. Adversary He has none, for there is none that is more powerful than He. Anger and wrath He possesses not, for there is nothing that can stand against Him. Error and forgetfulness are not in His nature, for He is altogether wisdom and understanding, and in Him consists all that consists. He asks no sacrifice and no li])ation, nor any of the things that are visible : He asks not any- thing from any one, but all ask from Him.' We can easily distinguish three classes of miracles. Some miracles are ideas materialised, others facts idealised, while a third class owes its origin to a simple misunderstanding of metaphorical phraseology. When we are told that Lao-tse was born as an old man with grey hair, can we doubt for a moment that this was only meant to express an idea, namely a belief in his extraordinary wisdom ? The miracle here is simply an idea materialised. Yet a follower of Lao-tse would PKEFACE. Xlll cling to this miracle, nay, his belief in Lao-tse's teach- ing might possibly suffer shipwreck, if his faith in the miraculous birth of his teacher were destroyed. The idea from which the miracle sprang may be quite true and intelligible ; turned into a material miracle, it becomes absurd. Miracles due to the idealisation of material facts are very frequent in all religions. Nearly all the miracles of healing belong to it. We have no reason to doubt that a powerful mind can influence a weaker and sufferinof mind. We all know what faith-cures mean. When a doctor tells us that there is nothing the matter, or that after taking some often quite harmless medicine we shall be all right again, how many have felt encouraged and reinvigorated. Can we doubt that many of the cures wrought at the shrines or on sight or touch of relics of Roman Catholic saints belong to this class ? There are men and women even now whose very face seems to drive out evil thoughts — what wonder if their friends and grateful patients speak of them as having the power of healing and driving out devils ! These miracles occur in all religions, both ancient and modern, and there are few persons who have not wit- nessed them. To call them all intentional frauds is an insult to humanity. As to the third class of miracles, those which owe their origin to a misunderstanding of language, they are particularly frequent when the sober thought of the West tries to interpret the more vivid language of the East. But they are by no means restricted to that one cause. Every language becomes more and more XIV PREFACE. forgetful of its antecedents, and is apt to interpret old language by new thought, though not always correctly. I have no doubt that many Christians, both young and old, believe, that when Jesus had been baptized, a real dove in a bodily shape was let loose and sent down from heaven. They have read it, they have seen it represented in ever so many pictures. And yet, who can doubt that the Gospels themselves speak of it as a vision only, and not as a material fact. St. Matthew says (iii. 16) that ' the heavens were opened unto Him, and that He saw the Spirit of God descending like a dove, and lighting upon Him.' St. Mark says (i. 10), 'And straightway coming up out of the water, He saw the heavens opened, and the Spirit lihe a dove descending upon Him.' It is only when we come to St. Luke that we meet with the narrative of a material fact, that the Holy Ghost descended in a bodily shape like a dove from heaven upon Him. In the Gospel of St. John the vision is no longer represented as a vision of Christ Himself; but it still remains a vision of John, who says, ' I saw the Spirit descending from heaven, like a dove, and it abode upon Him.' Who can doubt that the expression of the Spirit descending like a dove, or even as a dove, is but an Eastern simile, and that the whole meaning and the real truth of the event would be destroyed, if we changed the simile into a material fact, and the Spirit into a feathered biped ! I know there are Christians who would not even surrender their belief in a miraculous cock, crowing after Peter had denied his Lord thrice. And yet what serious student of the New Testament can PKEFACE. XV doubt, that when Christ said, ' Verily, I say unto thee, that this night before the cock crow, thou shalt deny me thrice,' He meant no more than what we should mean if we said, ' Before cock-crow,' that is, before the morning. It could easily be shown that by materialising an idea we generally lose an important lesson, while by idealising a fact we destroy its reality or misinterpret it altogether. In either case we lose far more than we gain. There is one miracle, however, in the New Testa- ment which stands by itself, and on which the belief in miracles, nay, the whole belief in Christ's teaching has often been made to hinge. Has not St. Paul declared, ' If Christ is not risen, our faith is in vain ' ? Yes, but what did ' risen ' mean to St. Paul ? Was it the mere resuscitation of a material body, or was it the eternal life of the spirit ? It required courage, no doubt, for a Bishop to apply the same reasoning to this as to all other mii-acles. ' It is quite possible,' Dr. Temple writes (p. 196), ' that our Lord's resurrec- tion may be found hereafter to be no miracle at all in the scientific sense.' ' But this new discovery,' he adds (p. 199), ' if once made, would not affect the place which our Lord's Ptesurrection holds in the records of revelation. It is not the purpose of revelation to interfere with the course of nature ; if such interference be needless, and the work of revealing God to man can be done without it, there is no reason whatever to believe that any such interference would take place.' How different is this from the language of Dr. Liddon, when speaking of the resurrection. Many will remember the almost gruesome eloquence with XVI PREFACE. which he described the idea of our Lord's sacred body rotting in the soil. Why have recourse to such appeals to our imagination'? Why not use the more simple and more scriptural language of dust returning to dust, or the body being changed into the elements out of which it had been framed 1 Taking the evidence such as it is, I can honestly follow Dr. Temple and others in accepting the bodil}^ resurrection of our Lord as a real historical fact, as a fact which from very early days was miraculised and misinterpreted, while on the other hand, our Lord's ascension will have to be understood, as I tried to show, as a sublime idea, materialised in the lanoruag^e of children. Is not a real fact that happened in a world in which nothing can happen against the will of God, better than any miracle ? Why should we try to know more than we can know, if only we firmly believe that Christ's immortal spirit ascended to the Father? That alone is true immortality, divine immortality ; not the resuscitation of the frail mortal body, but the immortality of the immortal divine soul. It was this rising of the Spirit, and not of the body, without which, as St. Paul said, our faith would be vain. It is the Spirit that quickeneth, the flesh profiteth nothing (St. John vi. 63). I have little doubt that sooner or later these very simple truths will be accepted by all honest Christians, though at present they are still violently attacked, and stigmatised by very offensive names. Was it not said by Archdeacon Wilson at the Church Con- gress this year that 'modern criticism is practically unanimous in saying that a non-historical element, no PREFACE. XVll longer separable, has mixed with the narrative, and that in this respect the sacred books of Christianity are like those of Mosaism, of Buddhism, or Islam, or other religions, and that modern criticism is practically unanimous in saying that an atmosphere of the miraculous in a certain stao^e of the human mind is an inseparable accompaniment of the profound reverence with which a great Teacher and Prophet and Saint is regarded by his followers, and the necessary literary form in which such reverence would express itself. It is impossible, therefore, that such an atmosphere should not have gathered round the memory of Christ.' This was spoken in the presence of Bishops and Archbishops, and not one of them cried Ana- thema. Was it then so grave an outrage when I de- clared that miracles^ so far from being impossible, are inevitable in the early stages of almost all religions ? I have long professed these convictions, and I know they are shared by thousands, aye, by hundreds of thousands. But I have no wish to shield myself behind the Bishop of London or any other eccle- siastic dignitary. I am by no means certain that Dr. Temple would approve of all that I have said, nay, I am quite willing to admit that in selecting certain passages of his Bampton Lectures, I have taken those only which scientific honesty extorted from the Bishop. It can easily be said that my ex- tracts are garbled, but I can only admit that they were carefully selected. Those who listened to his Bamp- ton Lectures, know the strong qualifications which the Bishop added, and the considerate way in which he tried not to give oflfence to any of his hearers, (3) b XVlll PREFACE. But qualifications may modify the aspect of certain statements, they can never contradict or annihilate them. On one point only I must confess my complete divergence from the Bishop. ' It is not God's pur- pose,' he says (p. 214), 'to win the intellectually gifted, the wise, the cultivated, the clever, but to win the spiritually gifted, the humble, the tender-hearted, the souls that are discontented with their own short- comings, the souls that find happiness in self-sacrifice.' If I ventured to speak of God's purpose at all, I should say the very contrary, that it is not God's purpose to win only the spiritually gifted, the humble, the tender-hearted, the souls that are discontented with their own shortcomings, the souls that find happiness in self-sacrifice — those are His already — but to win the intellectually gifted, the wise, the cultivated, the clever, or better still, to win both. It would be an evil day for Christianity if it could no longer win the intellectually gifted, the wise, the cultivated, the clever, and it seems to me the duty of all who really believe in Christ to show that Christianity, if truly understood, can win the highest as well as the humblest intellects. Dr. Temple himself has done much in showing that this is possible. He has likewise shown how much of the mere outworks of Christianity cannot hold the ground on which they have been planted, that they have to be given up by force at last, when they ought to have been given up long before, and that, when given up at last, they often tear away with them part of the strength of that faith of which they had previously been not only PREFACE. XIX the buttress outside, but a part of the living frame- work. He makes no secret that he includes in these outworks the verbal and even literal inspira- tion of the whole Bible and, as we have seen, much of the miraculous element of the Old, and even in the New Testament. Dr. Temple has thus removed many a stone of stumbling in the way of the most honest disciples of Christ. But it will be to many of them a real day of Damascus, when the very name of miracle shall be struck out of the Dictionary of Christian theology. The facts will remain exactly as they are, but the Spirit of truth will give them a higher meaning. What is wanted for this is not less, but more faith, for it requires more faith to believe in Christ without than with the help of miracles. The signs and wonders which He wrought will remain just the same, but they will no longer obscure the greatest of all His signs and wonders — Himself. Let a per- verse and adulterous generation seek for other signs. It is those only who cannot believe unless they see signs and wonders who are told to believe for the very works' sake (St. John xiv. 11). Nothing, I feel sure, has produced so much distress of mind, so much intellectual dishonesty, so much scepticism, so much unbelief as the miraculous element forced into Chris- tianity from the earliest days. Nothing has so much impeded missionary work as the attempt to persuade people first of all not to believe in their own miracles, and then to make a belief in other miracles a condition of their becoming Christians. It is easy to say, ' You are not a Christian if you do not believe in the Christian miracles.' I hope the time will come when ba XX PREFACE. we shall be told, ' You are not a Christian if you cannot believe in Christ without the help of miracles.' If I have in the slightest way helped towards that end, I shall feel that I have been loyal to the spirit of the founder of this lectureship, loyal to those who have twice entrusted me with the delivery of these lectures, loyal to the Spirit of truth, and, what is the same, loyal to the spirit of the Founder of our religion, whatever obloquy many who profess and call them- selves Christians, many who ought to know better, nay, some who do know better, have poured on my head. Painful as these charges have been to me, I must not conclude this preface without expressing my sincere gratitude to the Glasgow Presbytery for having thrown them out by a majority of 17 to 5, and to the General Assembly for having declined even to entertain them. F. MAX MtJLLER. Oxford, Oct. 21, 1891. TABLE OF CONTENTS. Preface PAGE V LECTURE I. On Freedom of Religious Discussion. Difficulty of lecturing on Religion without giving offence. — Private Judgment. — Comparative Study of Religions. — Lord Grifford's Foundation. — Timid Counsels. — Lord Gifford's Condi- tions.— Toleration in other Religions. — Toleration in Ancient India. — Esoteric and Exoteric Religion. — Religious Education of Children.— Growth of the Mind 1-28 LECTURE 11. On Toleration. Bright Side of all Religions. — Danger of keeping Truth secret. — Antecedents of Buddhism. — Dialogue between Father and Son. — Buddhism originally a Brahmanic Sect. — Religious Discussions. — Toleration preached by Buddhism. — The Edicts of Asoka. — The Tolerant Spirit of Asoka. — Disappearance of Buddhism in India. — Toleration in the Jewish Religion. — XXU TABLE OF CONTENTS. PACK Jewish Interpretation of the Bible. — The Ascent of Elijah. — The Ascension of Christ. — Spiritual only. — The Solstice of Joshua. — Fasti Temporis Catholici. — Diversity of Opinion inevitable. — A Comparative Study of Religions teaches Toler- ance 29-6U LECTUKE III. Summary of the Results of Physical Religion. Outcome of Physical Religion,— Origin of the Concept of Cause. — Plato on the Gods. — First Consciousness of our Acts. — Postulate of Psychology fulfilled by Language. — Naming of Objects. — The Agents in Nature. — Transition to Human Agents. — Difference between Human and Super-human Agents. — The True Meaning of Animism. — General Names of the Agents in Nature. — Highest Generalisation or Monothe- ism.— The Biography of Agni representative only. — The God of the Sky, — Principles of Comparative Mythology. — Bnsaya and Briseis, — Dyaus and Zeus. — The Lesson of Jupiter. — Dr. Lippert. — Protest against Levity 61-88 LECTURE IV. The Historical Proof of the Existence of God. Securus Judicat Orbis Terrarum, — Universality of a Belief in God does not prove its Truth. — Belief in God inevitable. — History of the Belief in gods and God. — Are all Religions True? — ^The Gradual Elimination of what is imperfect. — Negative Definition in Greek Philosophy. — Negative Definition in Christian Theology. — True Agnosticism. — All Names well meant. — Names of the Infinite. — I Am that I Am. — The Three Vedanta Predicates. — Masculine or Neuter. — Return to the Old Names. — The Minimum. — The Names and what is named 89-114 TABLE OF CONTENTS. XXlll LECTUKE V. About the True Character of Ancestor-Worship. PAGE The Name of Anthropological Religion. — Former Opinions on the Sources of Religion. — Fetishism. — Totemism. — Hallu- cination.— Ancestor-worship. — Ancestor- worship presupposes a Belief in Gods. — China and Egypt. — The Euhemeristic Explana- tion of Zeus. — ^The Euhemeristic Explanation of other Gods. — Did Ancestor-worship exist among the Aryan Nations? . 115-144 LECTURE VI. The Untrustworthiness of the Materials for THE Study of Religion. Literary Documents of Aryan and Semitic Religions. — Literary Documents of other Religions. — The Religions of Illiterate Races. — Comparative Study of Languages. — Com- parative Study of non-Aiyan and non-Semitic Religions. — New Epoch in the Study of Uncivilised Races. — The Two New Principles. — A Third Principle for the Future. — Testing of Evidence, (I) with regard to Civilised Races. — Different Ac- counts of the Religious Beliefs of the Hindus. — The Goddess Durga or Kali. — The Higher Conception of Durga. — The Origin of Durga. — Authoritative Books. — Testing of Evidence, (II) with regard to Illiterate Races. — The Andaman Islanders. — Negative and Positive Evidence 145-180 LECTURE VII. The Discovery of the Soul. Physical Religion Incomplete. — The Soul of Man. — Anim- ism.— Primitive Man. — Materials for our Studies. — Names XXIV TABLE OF CONTENTS. PAGE for Soul. — What was meant by Soul ? — The Problem of Man. — The Lessons of Death, — Blood as Life. — The Heart. — Breath. — Soul after Death. — Words for Soul. — Words for Soul in Hebrew. — ^Words for Soul in Sanskrit. — Words for Soul in Tamil. — Polynesian Words for Soul, &c. — Material Begin- nings 181-207 LECTUKE VIII. Discovery of the Soul in Man and in Nature. The Three Stages of Early Psychology. — The Original Mean- ing of Psyche. — The Psychological Terminology of Homer. — The Meaning of avros. — Psyche and Menos. — Thymos. — Phrenes. — Soul and Ghost. — Differentiation of Meaning. — The Agent. — Different Origin of other Names for Soul. — Shadow. — Dreams. — Superstitious Sayings about Shadows. — The Ci-pres in Language. — The Infinite in Man. — Why a Belief in a Soul is necessary. — The Soul in Man and the Soul in Nature . 208-234 LECTUKE IX. Funeral Ceremonies. The Import of Customs. — Motives of Customs. — Funeral Ceremonies in India. — Funeral Ceremonies in Greece. — The Theory of Survivals. — Gifts produced a Belief that they would be used by the Dead. — Funeral Ceremonies in Rome. — Funeral Ceremonies among Savages. — Polynesian Funerals 235-280 LECTURE X. What was thought about the Departed. The Soul minus the Body. — Continuance of Feelings towards the Dead. — The Germs of Ancestral Religion. — The First TABLE OF CONTENTS. XXV PAGE Ancestor. — Were there Races without Physical Religion '? — Are there Races whose Religion is exclusively Ancestor- worship ? — Religion of Zulus. — Religion of the Niassans. — Worship of Gods and Worship of Ancestors kept distinct. — Where do the Departed exist ? — How do the Departed exist ? — Belief in Punishments and Rewards. — Plato. — The Law of Cause and Effect. — Karma na kshiyate. — Are the Departed conscious of what passes on Earth ? — Influence of Priests . . . 281-308 LECTUEE XI. Soul after Death. Greek Epic Poetry. — Finnish Epic Poetry. — The Nekyia does not represent the popular Belief. — Homer does not reflect popular Opinion on Death. — Punishments. — Post-Homeric Poets. — Plato. — The Mysteries. — Plato's Influence. — Xeno- phon's Cyropaedia. — Influence of Philosophers. — Funeral In- criptions. — The Divinity of the Soul. — Somnium Scipionis 309-332 LECTURE XII. What does it lead to ? The Historical Proof. — The Two Lessons of History. — Reca- pitulation of Anthropological Religion. — Ka^/ia-upanishad 333-350 LECTURE XIIL The Divine and the Human. Worship of the Departed leads to the Recognition of the Divine in Man. — Apotheosis. — Heroes as Aioyeveis. — Heroes. — Daimones. — Hesiod's Four Races. — The Daimonion of Sokrates. — The Three Roads leading to the Discovery of something Divine in Man. — Plato on Gods, Daimones, Heroes, and An- XXVI TABLE OF CONTENTS. PAGE cestral Spirits. — Our own Problems. — Belief in Immortality in the Old Testament. — Meaning of Immortality. — Sheol. — Con- troversy as to the Jewish Belief in Immortality. — Eeaction. — Christianity, the Eevelation of the Divine Sonship of Christ and Man. — The Words Father and Son. — Parable of the King's Son. — The Position of Christianity in the History of the World. — The Second Birth. — Christ's Teaching and its Later Interpretation. — Objections considered .... 351-393 APPENDICES. Appendix I. Indra or Andra 395 Appendix II. Hey Diddle Diddle 399 Appendix III. On Totems and their various origin 403 Appendix IV. I>urga 410 Appendix V. On the Untrustworthiness of Anthropological Evidence . 413 On the Untrustworthiness of the Accounts of the Religious Ideas of Savages 428 TABLE OF CONTENTS. XXVli Appendix VI. PAGE Rajendralal Mitra's Notes on Vedic Funerals . . . 436 Appendix VII. Funeral Ceremonies ........ 488 Appendix VIII. The ' Kalevala ' 440 Index .447 LECTURE I. ON FREEDOM OF RELIGIOUS DISCUSSION. Difficulty of lecturing on Religion without giving" offence. DO you think it is possible to lecture on religion, even on natural religion, without giving offence either on the right or on the left ? And do you think that a man would be worth his salt who, in lecturing on religion, even on natural religion, were to look either right or left, instead of looking all facts, as they meet him, straight in the face, to see whether they are facts or not ; and, if they are facts, to find out, if possible, what they mean, and, what they are meant to teach us ? Religion, I know full well, differs from all other subjects. It appeals not only to our head, but to our heart. And as we do not like to hear those who are very near to our heart, those whom we love and revere, criticised, or even compared, it is but natural that many people should object to a criticism of that religion which they love and revere, nay, even to a comparison of it with other religions. But let us ask ourselves. Does this attitude with regard to those whom we love and revere, really prove that we have an undoubting faith in them ? If we (3) B ^0 Z LECTURE I. had, should we not rather wish to hear our friends compared and criticised, if only in order to have an opportunity of defending them, and of showing how infinitely superior they are to all others ? Why then should we not have the same feeling with regard to our religion as with regard to our friends, always supposing that we can give a good account of the faith that is in us, and of the reasons for which we love and revere our own religion ? For if our own religion comes out victorious from the trial, and superior to all the rest, surely we shall have gained, not lost. And if other religions should after all appear not so infinitely inferior to our own, not altogether of a different stuff*, should we be really poorer, because others are richer than we supposed? Would our religion be less true, because some of its truths are found in other religions also ? We may, I think, go a step further. Our own self- interest surely would seem, to suggest as severe a trial of our own religion as of other religions, nay, even a more severe trial. Our religion has sometimes been compared to a' good ship that is to carry us through the waves and tempests of this life to a safe haven. Would it not be wise, therefore, to have it tested, and submitted to the severest trials, before we entrust our- selves and those most dear to us to such a vessel? And remember, all men, except those who take part in the foundation of a new religion, or have been converted from an old to a new faith, have to accept their religious belief on trust, long before they are able to judge for themselves. Hence a child of Mohammedan parents invariably believes in Moham- med and the Koran. An Italian child never doubts ON FREEDOM OF llELIGIOUS DISCUSSION. 3 the miraculous achievements of the Saints, and follows his mother in kneeling in adoration before the image of the Virgin Mary. And while in all other matters an independent judgment in riper years is encouraged, every kind of influence is used to dis- courage a free examination of religious dogmas, once engrafted on our intellect in its tenderest stage. A Mohammedan who should renounce the prophet, knows that he risks his life. And a Roman Catholic who should doubt the truth of the legends of the Saints, or look upon the adoration of any image as idolatry, would soon be called a sceptic and an infidel, or, what is even worse, a Protestant. We condemn an examina- tion of our own religion, even thouo-h it arises from an honest desire to see w^ith our own eyes the truth which we mean to hold fast ; and yet we do not hesitate to send missionaries into all the world, asking the faithful to re-examine their own time-honoured religions. We attack their most sacred convictions, we wound their tenderest feelings, we undermine the belief in which they have been brought up, and we break up the peace and happiness of their homes. And yet, if some learned Jew, like Mendelssohn, if some subtle Brahman, like Rammohun Roy, aye, even if some outspoken Zulu, like Colenso's friend, turns round on us, asks us to re-examine the date and author- ship of the books of the Old or the New Testament, presses us to explain some portions of the Athanasian Creed, or challenges us to produce the evidence on which we also are quite ready to accept certain miracles, we are surprised and offended^ forgetting that with regard to these questions we can claim no privilege, no immunity. B 2 4 LECTURE I. Private Judg'ment. When I say ive, I only mean those who have rejected once for all every infallible human authority, whether the infallibility of the Pope, or the infallibility of the Church, or the infallibility of the Bible, or, lastly, even the infallibility of the immediate disciples and apostles of Christ, who, as you know, are the very last to claim such infallibility. If we have once claimed the freedom of the spirit which St. Paul claimed, ' to prove all things and to hold fast that which is good,' we cannot turn back, we cannot say that no one shall prove our own religion, no one shall prove other religions and compare them with our own. We have to choose once for all between freedom and slavery of judgment, and though I do not wish to argue with those who prefer slavery, yet one may remind them that even they, in deliberately choosing slavery, follow their own private judgment, quite as much as others do in choosing freedom. In claiming infallibility for Bible, Popes, or Councils, they claim in reality far greater infallibility for themselves in declaring by their own authority Bible, Popes, or Councils to be infallible. How easily people deceive themselves with regard to what is private judgment and Avhat is not, may be seen in the case of Cardinal Newman. When he was still a member of the Church of his own country, he wrote. May 5, 1841 {Apologia, p. 188): ' We have too great a horror of the principle of private j udgment to trust it in so immense a matter as that of changing from one communion to another. We may be cast out of our communion, or it may ON FREEDOM OF RELIGIOUS DISCUSSION. 5 decree heresy to be truth, — you shall say whether such contingencies are likely ; but I do not see other conceivable causes of our leaving the Church in which we were baptised.' Now between the year 1841 and 1845 the English Church, as far as I know, did neither the one nor the other, it did not invent any new heresy, nor cast out Newman and his friends ; and yet — Cardinal Newman followed his private judgment, and submitted to an infallible Pope. Comparative Study of Relig'ions. In choosing between Romanism and Protestantism, or in choosing between Christianity and Judaism, or any other religion, we must necessarily compare these religions with our own. I do not mean to say, there- fore, that a comparative study of all religions forms part of the duty of every Christian man and woman, but it seems to me that to condemn such studies, and to throw discredit on those who honestly devote them- selves to this examination and comparison of all religions, is contrary to the spirit of St. Paul, and contrary to the highest command of Christianity to do unto others as we wish they should do unto us. Iiord GiflEbrd's Foundation. And yet, do not suppose that those who have entered on this branch of historical research, and in particular those who have accepted the responsibility imposed upon them by Lord Gifford's bequest, are insenbible to the dangers and difficulties with which their work is beset. It may be quite true that they are relieved of some part of their responsibility by the very fact that Lord Gifford's bequest has been 6 LECTURE I. accepted by the great Universities of Scotland. It was quite possible that, under the conditions which he had attached to it, some of the Universities might have declined to accept Lord GifFord^s bequest. Their acceptance of the bequest, therefore, implied their general approval of its objects, and thus became really more important even than the bequest itself They admitted thereby that a treatment of religion in the spirit prescribed by the founder of these lectureships, would prove advantageous to the young- students committed to their care, and that nothing should be kept back from them that had received the approval of competent scholars. But it seems right nevertheless to listen to the objections that have been made against granting a place among academic studies to the Science of Religion, and to weigh at all events what has been said and written against it by men whose judgment and sincerity cannot be doubted. Timid Counsels. There are persons of very sound judgment who, though they fully approve of a comparative treatment of religions, and of the freest criticism of our own religion, still insist that it is wise to keep such studies for the few. They expressed this opinion years ago in the case of Essays and Revleus, and more recently in the case of Lux Alundi. Such books, they hold, ought to be written in Latin. Religion, they say, is common property. It belongs by its very nature to the young and to the old, to the wise and to the unwise, to men, women, and children. Unless it ful- fils that condition, unless it is open to little children, ON FREEDOM OF RELIGIOUS DISCUSSION. 7 as well as to the wisest of the wise, it may be philo- sophy, it may be absolute truth, but it ceases to be religion. Now in lectures on any other subjects, we are told that the technical character of the language which is employed, restricts their influence to those who can judge for themselves. No one would think of putting restrictions on lectures on botany, because people might learn from what plants they could extract poisons. No one would prevent Professors of chemistry from lecturing to large classes, because some of their pupils might wish to learn how to prepare dynamite. But while every other subject is thus by its very nature restricted to a professional class, we are reminded that a study of religion, or, at all events, an interest in religion, appeals to every human heart, and that a treatment of religion that may be quite harmless, nay, quite legitimate with advanced students and hard-headed thinkers, may prove very hurtful to younger minds, not prepared as yet for such strong diet. I know quite well that there is some truth in all this. I do not even deny that the use of the Latin language in theological discussions, which are likely to prove a stumbling-block to the uninitiated, had its advantages. But it seems to me perfectly useless to discuss such proposals now. We must learn to accept the times in which we live, and make the best of them. Whatever is now treated of in academic pre- cincts, is preached the next day in the streets, and there is neither palace nor cottage that is not reached by the million arms of the public press. Latin is no longer any protection ; I doubt whether it was so altogether even in the middle ages. 8 LECTURE I. The discovery of Copernicus (1473-1543) that the earth moves round the sun and does not form the centre of the universe, may indeed have been kept back for nearly a century, remaining known to those only who could read Latin. But it burst forth all the same in the Italian writings of Gahleo (1567-1642), and people soon recovered from the shock, even though deprived of that much cherished conviction that they formed the centre of the universe. Artificial protection of any kind is out of date in the century in which we live, and in which we must learn to act and to do as much good as we can. To expect that religion could ever be placed again beyond the reach of scientific treatment or honest criticism, shows an utter misapprehension of the signs of the times, and would, after all, be no more than to set up private j udgment against private j udgment. I believe, on the contrary, that if the inalienable rights of private judgment, that is, of honesty and truth, were more generally recognised, the character of religious controversy would at once be changed. It is restric- tion that provokes resentment, and thus embitters all discussions on religious topics. I have had to discuss this question many times with some of the leading theologians of our time. I do not mean with men who simply acted their part on the stage of the world, but with men who were honestly convinced that freedom of thought and freedom of discussion were wrong and mischievous within the sphere of religion, and ought to be restrained by authority. One of them declared to me that it had been his lot during a long life to read more heresy than any other ON FREEDOM OF RELIGIOUS DISCUSSION. 9 living man, and he dwelt in the most forcible language on the abyss, both intellectual and moral, into which he had gazed again and again, but from which he had at last turned resolutely away. He considered it his duty for the rest of his life to keep others from the mental agonies through which he himself had passed, and he would have welcomed any measures by which that abyss could have been enclosed, and public discussion of religious problems could have been pre- vented once for all. All I could say to him in reply was, if such a terrible abyss really existed, it must have its purpose in the world in which we have been placed, like many other things which entail suffering and agony, and are nevertheless meant to serve a good purpose. To shut our eyes will not remove that abyss, while courage and faith may possibly help to throw a bridge across the dark chasm that seems to separate man from those bright regions for which his heart is always yearning. When I read a few days ago a letter from Cardinal Newman, which Canon MaccoU has published in the Conteiiiporary Revieiu (January, 1891, p. 144), I seemed once more to hear almost the same voice to which I had often listened at Oxford. Speaking of the authors of Essays and Reviews^ Newman writes : ' Some of them, I trust, were urged by a sincere feeling that it is not right to keep up shams. Yet did they really see the termination, or rather the abyss, to which these speculations lead, surely they would see that, before attempting to sift facts, they ought to make sure that they have a firm hold of true and eternal principles. To unsettle the minds of a generation, when you give 10 LECTURE I. them no landmarks and no causeway across the morass, is to undertake a great responsibility. ' The religion of England depends, humanly speak- ing, on belief in the Bible, the whole Bible, etc., and on the observance of the Calvinistic Sabbath. Let the population begin to doubt in its inspii'ation and infallibility — where are we ? Alas ! whole classes do already ; but I would not be the man knowingly to introduce scepticism into those portions of the com- munity which are as yet sound. Consider the misery of wives and mothers losing their faith in Scripture ; yet I am told this sad process is commencing.' But the most curious part is, that while Cardinal Newman — he was already a member of the Roman Catholic Church when he wi'ote this — considers a belief in the plenary inspiration of the whole Bible, the Old as well as the New Testament, and the obser- vance of the Calvinistic Sabbath^ essential to the faith of Protestants, he does not think that the Roman Catholic faith requires the same elaborate support. ' The volume in question,' he continues, namely Essays and Reviews, ' is levelled at Revelation as a whole, but is especially a blow at the Old Testament. Now the plenary inspiration of Scripture is peculiarly a Protestant question, not a Catholic. We, indeed, devoutly receive the whole Bible as the Word of God ; but we receive it on the authority of the Church, and the Church has defined very little as to the aspects under which it comes from God, and the limits of its inspiration. Supposing, for argument sake, that it could be proved that some passage in the Pentateuch about Egyptian history was eiToneous ; nay, let the universality of the deluge over the globe, or the ON FKEEDOM OF RELIGIOUS DISCUSSION. 11 literal interpretation of Genesis be, for argument sake, disproved, it would not affect a Catholic, for two reasons — (1) Because the Church has not made them points de fide, and (2) because not the Bible, but the Church, is to him the oracle of Revelation ; so that, though the whole Scripture were miraculously re- moved from the world as if it had never been, evil and miserable as would be the absence of such a privilege, he would still have enough motives and objects of his faith, whereas to the Protestant the question of Scripture is one of life and death.' Thus, according to Cardinal Newman, the Roman Catholic may be trusted to criticise the Bible, particu- larly the Old Testament. He would not be affected if, for argument sake, the universal deluge or the crossing of the Red Sea, could be disproved. And why ? Because the Church is to him the oracle of Revelation. And who speaks in the name of the Church 1 Popes and Cardinals. And who are Popes and Cardinals ? Men such as Mr. John Newman himself, who followed his own private judgment in leaving the Church in which he was born, the Church of England, for the Church of Italy. There is no escape, you see, from private judgment, as little as there is from our own shadow. Another great theologian whom I knew at Oxford, and whose recent death is still in all our memories, would draw in eloquent and touching words the picture of a child sleeping in his cradle, and dreaming happy dreams of God and His angels. Who would wake such a child, he said. I knew full well what he meant. There is certainly no happier life than a life of simple faith, of literal acceptance, of rosy dreams. We must all 12 LECTURE I. grant that, if it were possible, nothing would be more perfect. Nay I go further still, and I gladly acknow- ledge that some of the happiest, and not only some of the happiest, but also some of the best men and women I have known in this life, were those who would have shrunk with horror from questioning a single letter in the Bible, or doubting that a serpent actually spoke to Eve, and an ass to Balaam. But can we prevent the light of the sun and the noises of the street from waking the happy child from his heavenly dreams'? Nay, is it not our duty to wake the child, when the time has come that he should be up and doing, and take his share in the toils of the day ? And is it not well for those who for the first time open their eyes and look around, that they should see by their side some who have woke before them, who understand their inquiring looks, and can answer their timid questions, and tell them in the simple- hearted language of our old poet : ' There lives more faith in honest doubt, Believe me, than in half the creeds.' No, however excellent the motives of these faint- hearted theologians may be, not only are the remedies which they propose impossible, but it is easy to see that they would prove much more dangerous than the diseases which they are meant to heal. To en- courage people, and particularly theologians, not to speak the truth openly, though they know it, must be fatal to every religion. Who could draw the line between the truth that may, and the truth that may not be communicated? I have known theologians, occupying now the highest positions in the Church, ON FREEDOM OF RELIGIOUS DISCUSSION. 13 who frankly admitted among their own intimate friends, that physical miracles, in the ordinary sense of the word, were once for all impossible, but who would not have considered it right to say so from the pulpit. I do not question their motives nor do I doubt their moral courage, I only question the soundness of their judgment. I feel convinced that to many of their hearers, an open statement of the conviction at which they had them- selves arrived would have been far more helpful than many an apologetic sermon. If their own faith in Christianity is not shaken, because they have ceased to believe in miracles as mere miracles, nay, if their belief in Christ's teaching has grown all the stronger since they discarded these crutches, why should it be different with others whom they profess to guide ? There exists at present a very wide-spread impression that preachers do not preach all they know, that they will not help others to face the abyss, which all have to face, and that they w^ill not open the shutters to let in the light of the sun and the fresh air of the morning, which we are all meant to breathe ; but that they are keeping the truth to themselves, I will not say from any unworthy motives, but from fear that it might do more harm than good to others. To all this I know but one reply. Can there be anything higher and better than truth ? Is any kind of religion possible without an unquestioning trust in truth ? No one knows what it is to believe who has not learnt to believe in truth, for the sake of truth, and for the sake of truth only. The question of miracles is no longer, as it w^as in the days of Hume, a mere ques- tion of historical evidence. A comparative study of 14 LECTURE I. religions has taught us that miracles, instead of being impossible^ are really inevitable, that they exist in almost every religion, that they are the natural outcome of what Mr. Gladstone has well called ' imperfect com- prehension and imperfect expression.' Why should such well-established results of scientific enquiry be withheld from those whom they most concern, and, what is still worse, why should they reach the people at large, as it were, through unauthorised channels, and not from the mouths of their recognised teachers ? It ought, I think, to be clearly understood that re- strictions on religious discussions have in our days, and in this country, at all events, become perfectly impossible, and that such palliatives as the use of Latin would be simply futile. But for that very reason the question becomes all the more important, what we have a right to expect and to demand from those whose duty it is to treat religious questions. It has always been considered as one of the essen- tial conditions of civilised life that the religious convictions of every citizen should be respected and protected against insult and injury. Whether a state should recognise and support an established Church, is a question that admits of debate. But what admits of no debate is that the law should prevent or punish any insults offered to individuals or societies on account of their religious convictions. A state in which religious convictions entail civil disabilities, or in which religious professions lead to social advan- tages, cannot be called a civilised state in the highest sense of the word. Every creed is sacred to those who hold it. Whether a fetish-worshipper calls on his fetish for food and drink, or chastises it if his ON FREEDOM OF RELIGIOUS DISCUSSION. 15 prayer is not fulfilled, or whether an atheist exclaims in despair, ' O God, if there he a God, save my soul, if I have a soul,' they both hold their belief and their unbelief sacred, and they have a right to see their religious convictions, if not respected, at all events protected against insult. These are no doubt ex- treme cases, but even in such extreme cases toleration and charity are far more likely to prove efiicient remedies than scorn and insult. If we can respect a childlike and even a childish faith, we ought likewise to learn to respect even a philosophical atheism which often contains the hidden seeds of the best and truest faith. We ought never to call a man an atheist, and say that he does not believe in God, till we know what kind of God it is that he has been brought up to believe in, and what kind of God it is that he rejects, it may be, from the best and highest motives. We ought never to forget that Socrates was called an atheist, that the early Christians were all called atheists ^, that some of the best and greatest men this world has ever known, have been branded by that name. Men may deny God for the very sake of God. You remember what old Plutarch said, that it was better not to believe in Gods at all, than to believe in Gods, such as the superstitious believe them to be. ' I, for my own part,' he continues, ' would ^ Athenagoras (Legatio, 10) gives an elaborate defence of the Christians against the charge of atheism. ' I have sufficiently- demonstrated,' he says, ' that they are not atheists who believe in One who is unbegotten, eternal, unseen, impassible, incomprehen- sible and uncontained ; comprehended by mind and reason only, invested with ineffable light and beauty and spirit and power, by whom the universe is brought into being and set in order and held firm, through the agency of his own Logos.' — (Hatch, Hibhert Lectures, p. 253.) 16 LECTURE I. much rather have men say of me that there never was a Plutarch at all, nor is now, than to say that Plutarch is a man inconstant, fickle, easily moved to anger, revengeful for trifling provocations, vexed at small things ^.' This is as true to-day as it was in Plutarch's time, and it is right that it should be said, however much it may offend certain ears. One of our greatest theolo- gians has not hesitated to say : ' God is a great word. He who feels this and knows it, will judge more mildly and justly of those who confess that they dare not say, " I believe in God^." ' When people speak in a truly honest and kind spirit, they will understand one another, however widely they may stand apart in their rehgious opinions. But for that object it is absolutely necessary that discussion and controversy should be completely unfettered. You cannot have a good fight or a fair fight, if you tie the hands of the two combatants ; least of all, if you tie the hands of one combatant only. Iiord Gifford's Conditions. It was the object of Lord Gifford's bequest to untie the hands of combatants, but at the same time to fix the conditions on which the combat should be conducted. What was wanted for that purpose, as he declared in his will, were ' reverent men, true thinkers, sincere lovers, and earnest enquirers after truth.' These words are not used at random. Each sentence seems to have been carefully chosen and attentively weighed ^ Sir John Lubbock, Pleasures of Life, ii. p. 217. ^ Rotlie, in his Stille Siunden. ox FREEDOM OF RELIGIOUS DISCUSSION. 17 by him. He felt that religion was not a subject like other subjects, but that, whether on account of its age or owing to its momentous bearing on human welfare, it ought to be treated with due care and respect. Reverence alone, however, would not be sufficient, but should be joined with true thinking. True thinking means free thinking, thinking following its own laws, and unswayed by anything else. Think what thinking would be, if it were not free ! But even this would not suffice. There ought to be not only loyal submission to the laws of thought, there ought to be a sincere love, a deep-felt yearning for truth. And lastly, that love should not manifest itself in impa- tient and fanatical outbursts, but in earnest enquiry, in patient study, in long-continued research. Men who have passed through these four stages are not likely to give offence to others or to be easily offended themselves. I am sorry to have to confess it, but among the many lessons which a comparative study of religions teaches us, there is one that seems very humiliating, namely, that religious intolerance has been much more common in modern than in ancient times. I know the excuse which is made for this. It is said, that as our convictions become deeper and stronger, our intolerance of falsehood also must assume a more intense character, and that it would show an utter want of earnestness if it were otherwise. There may be some truth in this, but it is a dangerous truth. It is the same truth which led the Inquisition to order the burning of heretics, because it would be better for their souls, and which inflicted in our own times a less violent, though perhaps a not less painful martyr- dom on such ' reverent men, true thinkers, sincere (3) C 18 LECTURE I. lovers, and earnest inquirers after truth ' as Dean Stanley, Bishop Colenso, and Charles Kingsley. Toleration in other Religions. Let us see how the problem of toleration has been solved in other religions. Perhaps on this point also a comparative study of religions may have some use- ful lessons for us. For the difficulty is one that besets them all. The religion of the young can never be quite the same as that of the old, nor the religion of the educated the same as that of the ignorant. We all know it. Eishop Berkeley was a Christian ; so is Mr. Spurgeon. But think of the gulf that separates the two. And yet it is the object of religion that it should serve as a bond between all classes, and should supply a language in which all should be able to join without dishonesty. Toleration in Ancient India. I tried to explain on a former occasion how this problem has been solved in ancient India. The Indian Law recognised four stages in the life of every man. The first stage was that of the pupil, which lasted till a man had reached the age of manhood. A pupil had to show implicit obedience to his superiors, and to learn without questioning the religion of his fore- fathers. The second stage was that of the householder, which lasted till a man had grown-up children. A householder had to marry, to earn his living, to bring up a family, to perform daily sacrifices, and all this again without questioning the teaching of his reUgioua guides. ON FREEDOM OF RELIGIOUS DISCUSSION. 19 Then followed the third stage, that of the dweller in the forest, the Vanaprastha, the ascetic. In that stage a man was not only released from his household duties, but his sacrificial observances also were much reduced, and he was allowed to indulge in the freest philosophical speculations, speculations which often ran counter to the theological system of the Brahmans, and ended by replacing religion altogether by philo- sophy. The last stage was that of the hermit, who withdrew himself from all human society, and willingly went to meet his death, wherever it would meet him ^. To us it seems difficult to understand how a religion, not only so full of different shades of thought, but con- taining elements of the most decidedly antagonistic cha- racter, could have lasted ; how neither the father should have contemptuously looked down on his son who performed sacrifices which he himself had surrendered as useless, nay as mischievous, nor the son should have abhorred his father who had thrown off his belief in the gods or devas, and adopted a philosophy that taught the existence of something higher and better than all these gods. And yet this system seems to have answered for a lono- time. Recoofnisinoj the fact that the mind of man chancres from childhood to old ao^e, it allowed the greatest freedom to old age, provided always that old age had been preceded by the fulfilment of all the duties of a pater familias, and by an unquestioning submission to the discipline of youth. I do not say that we see here the best solution of our problem. I only call your attention to it as one ^ Hibhert Lectures, p. 348. C a 20 LECTUKE I. out of many solutions, based on the principle of toleration for diversities of religious faith, which are inevitable so long as human nature remains what it is, and what it always has been. No society can exist without different classes. Our own society at all events, as it has grown up during thousands of years, cannot exist without them. I do not think so much of classes differing from each other by wealth or titles. I mean classes differing by education, and consequently by culture and intelligence. It is impossible to expect that these different classes, differing from each other so much in all other respects, in their education, their occupations, their manners, their tastes, their thoughts and language, should not" differ in their religion also. It is the ignoring of this simple fact which has wrought so much mischief. It has led to hypocrisy on one side, and to an unreasoning dogmatism on the other. I know there are some who hold that, however much people may differ in other respects, they are all alike in religion. We are told that the faith of the child is as good as that of the sage ; and that an old ignorant woman, who cannot even read her Bible, may be a far better Christian than a young curate who has just taken a first class at Oxford. It is the old story of using words in different senses, or ignoring what Mr. Gladstone calls ' the changes which the lapse of time works in the sense of words.' So far as prac- tical religion goes, so far as doing good is concerned, no doubt many a poor widow who throws in her two mites is better than the scribes and rich men who cast their gifts into the treasury. And who that ever saw an innocent child dying — stretching her arms towards angel-faces above, and giving her last parting ON FREEDOM OF RELIGIOUS DISCUSSION. 21 look to all whom she loved on earth — can doubt that of such is the kingdom of heaven ? But we are speaking of something quite different, though it is called by the same name of religion. We are speaking of what educated and highly educated men beheve, what conceptions they form of the Deity, of the relation of the human to the divine, of the true meaning of revelation, of the true nature of miracles, nay of the date of MSS., and the value of the various readings in the Hebrew or Greek text of the Bible. All these are questions which hardly exist for millions of human beings, of which they need not take any cognisance at all, but which nevertheless to those for whom they once exist, are questions of the deepest import. It is on these questions that we must claim the same freedom which even the most orthodox of Brahmans allowed to their fellow-creatures. Only, we must claim it, not only for the aged who retire into the forest, but for all whose mind has been awakened, and who mean to do their duty in this life. Esoteric and Exoteric Religion. I know how strong a feeling there is against any- thing like a religion for the few^ different from the religion for the many. An esoteric religion seems to be a religion that cannot show itself, that is afraid of the light, that is, in fact, dishonest. But so far from being dishonest, the distinction between a higher and a lower form of religion is in reality the only honest recognition of the realities of life. If to a philosophic mind religion is a spiritual love of God and the joy of his full consciousness of the spirit of God within him, 22 LECTURE I. what meaning can such words convey to the millions of human beings who nevertheless want a religion, a positive, authoritative, or revealed religion, to teach them that there is a God, and that His commands must be obeyed without questioning. And do not think that this appeal for freedom of conscience comes from the educated laity only. The educated clergy are sighing for it even more. Let me quote the words of one whose right to speak on this subject can hardly be questioned, considering that thousands of families in England have confided to him the care of their sons, just at that critical period of life when childish faith has to grow into manly conviction ; considering also that one of our most orthodox Eishops has entrusted him with the examination of candidates for Holy Orders, I mean the Ven. James M. Wilson, Arch- deacon of Manchester, the late Headmaster of Clifton, Examining Chaplain to Bishop Moorhouse, and Private Chaplain to Bishop Temple. 'I say at once,' he writes ^ 'that we, educated Christian men, have a distinct duty to perform in this direction, always remembering the great law of charity. I think that the Church ought to provide meat for her strong men, as well as secure that her l)abes shall get milk. One of our failures is in this duty. I do not think that it can be denied that the popular Christianity of the day, whether among priests or people, in church or chapel, is for the most part far less tolerant than is the Spirit of Christ, or of St. Paul, or of the great minds among Christians of all ages. That it should be so panong the people is for ^ Essays and Addresses, p. 1C2, ON FEEEDOM OF RELIGIOUS DISCUSSION. 23 the present unavoidable. It ought not to be so, and it need not be so among the educated laity and clergy, and they ought not to permit the intolerance of ignorance to pass unchecked, as it often does. We clergy ought to stem the tide more bravely than we do, and we ought to have done so in time past. We, as a rule, regard differences of opinion on speculative questions, and even on the terms in which we choose to present them, as very serious matters ; and expect old and young, philosophers and simple men and women, to accept unquestioningly the same terms. I think this is wrong. I do not at all think that this is the mind of Christ. Much may be done to claim for more abstract and philosophic views, and especially for all views that profess to rise directly from the study of facts and promote rightness of conduct, a place within the recognised boundaries of the Christian Church.' Then, after dwelling on the value of the discipline of established forms, he continues : — ' Why should we fail to recognise the fact that man ought to grow, and does grow, not only in stature and favour with God and man, but in wisdom also ? No Church is honest which does not recognise that fact, and which is not anxious to secure a place of safety, nay, of honour, to those who have grown in goodness and wisdom and understanding, in the gifts of the Spirit, and have thus attained to a truer insight into the nature of religion than can, for the present at least, be reached by the majority of educated people. A Church which declines to recognise the right of the Few who are '* fond of wisdom." not only to be tolerated, but to be respected, must become stagnant ; and if it actually encourages the ignorant intolerance 24 LECTURE I. of the multitude, if it identifies itself with the nar- rowness and exclusiveness of the uneducated or half- educated masses, it will drive its best champions into silence, and many who under proper guidance might have fought a good fight and done noble work for the Church, into atheism, or what is still worse, into hypocrisy. . . . When the Few cease to differ from the Many, we may have uniformity and peace, but we may also have dishonesty and death. When the Few are rcvspected by the Many, we may hope to have again in the Church . a true spiritual, that is, intellec- tual aristocracy — a small heart throbbing within, but giving life and strength to the large body of Christian people without.' I have quoted this important passage, not only on account of the authority which justly belongs to Mr. James M. Wilson as a clergyman, but because of his unrivalled experience as a schoolmaster. There is, I believe, no argument that appeals so strongly to every heart as the dangers that may arise, if the faith of the young is undermined. Who does not remem- ber the words of Christ : ' And whosoever shall offend one of these little ones that believe in me, it is better for him that a millstone were hanged about his neck and he were cast into the sea.' I quote once more from the Headmaster of Clifton (1. c, p. 1 64) : — ' I have spoken of the childhood of the individual being like the childhood of the race, and said that, therefore, the education of the one will follow the lines of education of the other. And this is true, but with some important qualifications. The child of the present century is not in all respects like the man of a bygone century. And the child may pass very ON FREEDOM OF EELTGIOUS DISCUSSION. 25 rapidly through the elementary stages ; and we do him positive injury, we dispose him to reject religion, if we prolong these stages artificially, for in that case we make him identify religion with that which he will grow out of. Further : As education advances, this transition will inevitably become more rapid. It is more rapid now than most people think. ... I feel quite sure that, as a rule, religious teachers postpone the higher teaching too long.' Religious Education of Children. Nothing, I beheve, is so dangerous to the healthy growth of a child's mind as the impression that his parents and teachers withhold something, or are not quite honest when they speak of the Bible. The fact that childi'en ask such perplexing questions about miracles in the Bible, shows that their minds are awake, and that everything is not exactly like what it ought to be. A child that had been stung by a wasp, asked the very natural question whether Noah in the ark was not stung by wasps. And what do you think the answer was ? ' No, my child, the wasps were kept in glass bottles.' In these days, when boys see every day on the walls of their school collections of geological specimens, and maps representing the successive strata of the earth, we need not wonder at what Mr. James M. Wilson tells us of his own boy, when nine years old. He was reading the first chapter of Genesis to his mother, and she explained to him that the days were long periods of time. ' Why, mamma, I should think I knew that,' was his remark. The human mind, and more particularly the child's mind, is so constituted, I believe^ that it cannot take 26 LECTURE T. in more than what it is prepared for. If any one were to say to a little child, who had just repeated the Lord's Praj^er, that Heaven was not the blue sky, the child would listen, but would turn up his hands and his eyes just the same to the clouds above. I have often wondered Avhat passes in the mind of a 3^ouDg man when he looks for the first time at his ' Articles of Religion,' and reads in the very first article that ' God is a being without body, without parts, and without passions.' Such a formula was intelligible when it was uttered for the first time by a philosopher in whose mind the Aryan thought of Greece and the Semitic thought of Judaea were closely blended. This is what Philo, the contemporary of Christ, says on the concept of God: — He is 'without body, parts, or passions ; without feet, for whither should He walk who fills all things ; without hands, for from whom should He receive anything who possesses all things ; without eyes, for how should He need eyes who made the light.' But what meaning can all this convey to the unformed mind of a young boy ? In its negative character, and as a warning against too human a conception of the deity this formula may be useful to him ; but when he tries to realise it with all its positive consequences, he would shudder at the crippled image of the Godhead, thus brought before his mind. What would remain if he deducted from his early conceptions or rather imaginations of God everything that we call body or shape, every- thing that we call parts or distinguishable elements, everything that we call passions, not only wrath and indignation, which are so often ascribed to God, but likewise pity and love, which are passions in the true ON FREEDOM OF RELIGIOUS DISCUSSION. 27 sense of the word, but which we can never separate from our human ideal of the Godhead. Growth of tlie Mind. My impression is that a boy's faith is not affected by any of these difficulties, till his understanding has grown strong enough to grapple with them. Though he would repeat the words that God was without body, parts, and passions, he would never think of Him as without those loving and pitying eyes without which God would be to him an e^^eless and blind idol, not a living and loving God. The mind of a child, of a boy, and of grown-up men and women too, is protected against many dangers till the time comes when they are strong enough to face them, strong enough to reason and to say, that the words of the Article must be taken in a negative [tlieologia negativa), not in a positive sense (tkeologia afftrmativa) ; and that, though we ma}^ deny that God has body, parts, and passions like human beings, we should never attempt to form any positive conception of Him according to this dangerous formula. It may be quite right to guard against dangers, whether real or imaginary, so long as it is JDossible, But when it is no longer possible, I feel certain the right thing is to face an enemy bravely. Very often the enemy will turn out a friend in disguise. The use of Latin in all theological discussions would be a mere sham defence, and any restriction on free discussion would provoke a resistance ten times worse. We cannot be far wrong, if we are only quite honest, but if we are once not quite honest over a few things, we shall soon become dishonest over many things. As I 28 LECTURE I. said at the beginning of my lecture, I say once more at the end : In lecturing on religion, even on Natural Keligion, we must look neither right nor left, but look all facts straight in the face, to see whether they are facts or not, and, if they are facts, to find out what they mean. LECTURE 11. ON TOLERATION. Brig-lit Side of all Relig-ions. I HAVE often been told that in treating of the ancient religions of the world, I dwell too much on their bright side, and thus draw too favourable, that is, not quite correct a picture of them. I believe to a certain extent I must plead guilty to this indict- ment. One naturally feels more attracted by one bright jewel than by the heap of rubbish in which it is hidden ; and, more than that, one is inclined to consider what is false and bad in any religion, whether our own or that of others, as a mere corrup- tion, as something that ought not to be, and that will pass away ; while what is good and true in all of them seems to constitute their true and permanent nature. You know the argument of the ancient Greek philoso- phers, when they were reminded of the often repulsive character of their gods. Nothing, they said, can be true of the gods that is not worthy of them. However, I admit my weakness, and the only excuse I can plead is, that these same religions have so often been drawn from their dark and hideous side that there is less danger perhaps of people at large forming 30 LECTURE II. too favourable an opinion of them, if now and then I should have spoken too well of them. Perhaps I have given the Brahmans too much credit for their tolerant spirit, and for allowing great latitude of philosophical speculation to the older and more enlightened members of their villages. They were able to solve a problem which to us seems insoluble, because they lived in a state of society totally different from our own. The Ara7iyakas or Forest-books, which contained the oldest Upanishads, the philosophical treatises of the Veda, were to be known by those only who had retired from active life into the forest, and the teaching contained in them was often called rahasya or secret. In ancient India there were no printed books, not even manuscripts, but all teachincT was oral. Nothin(y was easier, therefore, for those who were the guardians or depositaries of the higher truth of religion than to keep it from all except those who were considered fit to receive it, men who had left the world, men living in the forest. So long as this was possible, it may have been right. What I doubt is whether in our time the few who, even while living in the world, have retired into their own forest, freed from many fetters which they had to wear in their youth and manhood, would be treated with the same forbearance, aye, reverence, with which the forest-sages, the Vanaprasthas, were treated by the students, the householders, and the very priests of ancient India. Dangrer of keeping Truth secret. But we shall see that even in India this device of keeping the highest truths carefully hidden, not only ON TOLERATION. 31 from youDger students, but also from grown-up men, householders and fathers of families, broke down in the end, nay, proved one of the main causes of the downfall of Brahmanism. In a former course of lectures I explained to you how after a time Brahmanism was supplanted by Buddhism, and how this Indian Buddhism was really the inevitable consequence of the old system of the four A^ramas or the successive stages in which the life of an orthodox Brahman was supposed to be passed. Buddha, and those who followed him, seem simply to have asked the question why, if the real truth is reached in the third Asrama only, should people spend their youth and their manhood in learning and practising a religion which was pre- liminary only to a higher and truer knowledge, and in performing sacrifices which were a snare and delusion rather than a means of grace ^. Those who joined the Buddhist brotherhood looked upon the long apprenticeship spent in the study of the Veda, on the fulfilment of the duties of a householder, and on the performance of sacrifices, as mere waste. They left the world at once and listened to the highest truth, such as Buddha had discovered and taught it. Antecedents of Buddliisni. The first signs of this rebellious spirit against the old system are already visible in the Brahmanic literature. I shall read you an extract from the Mahabharata which has been well translated by my old friend, Dr. John Muir. It is a dialogue between ^ Hibbert Lectures, p. 359. 32 LECTURE II. a father and a son. The father exhorts his son to keep to the old paths, to serve his apprenticeship, then to marry and to perform the regular sacrifices, and at the end of his life only to seek for the hidden wisdom. The son, however, does not see why he should reach the highest goal on so circuitous a road, and decides to leave the world at once, in order to find rest where alone it can be found. The exact date of the dialogue may be doubtful, but its spirit is certainly pre-buddhistic. Dialog'ue betweeu Father and Sou. Sox. Since soon the days of mortals end, How ought the wise their lives to spend ? What course should I, to duty true, My sire, from youth to age j)u.rsue 1 Father. Begin thy course with study; store The mind with holy Yedic lore. That stage completed, seek a wife, And gain the fruit of wedded life, A race of sons, by rites to seal, When thou art gone, thy spirit's weal. Then light the sacred fires, and bring The gods a fitting offering. When age draws nigh, the world forsake, Thy chosen home the forest make ; And there, a calm, ascetic sage, A war against thy j^assions wage, That, cleansed from every earthly stain, Thou may'st supreme perfection gain. ON TOLERATION. 33 Son. And art thou then, my father, wise, When thou dost such a life advise 1 What wise or thoughtful man delights In formal studies, emj^ty rites 1 Should such pursuits and thoughts engage A mortal more than half his age 1 The world is ever vexed, distressed ; The noiseless robbers never rest. Father. Tell how the world is vexed, distressed ; What noiseless robbers never rest 1 What means thy dark, alarming speech ? In plainer words thy meaning teach. Son. The world is vexed by death; decay The frames of mortals wears away. Dost thou not note the circling flight Of those still robbers, day and night, With stealthy tread which hurrying past, Steal all our lives away at last ? When well I know how death infests This world of woe, and never rests. How can I still, in thoughtless mood, Confide in future earthly good 1 Since life with every night that goes, Still shorter, and yet shorter grows. Must not the wise perceive how vain Are all their days that yet remain 1 We, whom life's narrow bounds confine, Like fish in shallow water, pine. No moment lose ; in serious mood Begin at once to practise good ; (3) D 34 LECTUEE II. To-morrow's task to-day conclude ; The evening's work complete at noon : — No duty can be done too soon. Who knows whom death may seize to-night, And who shall see the morning light 1 And death will never stop to ask, If thou hast done, or not, thy task. While yet a youth, from folly cease ; Through virtue seek for calm and peace. So shalt thou here attain renown, And future bliss thy lot shall crown. As soon as men are born, decay And death begin to haunt their way. How can'st thou, thoughtless, careless, rest, When endless woes thy life infest ; When pains and pangs thy strength consume, Thy frame to dissolution doom ? Forsake the busy haunts of men, For there has death his favourite den. In lonely forests seek thy home, 'For there the gods delight to roam. Fast bound by old attachment's spell, Men love amid their kin to dwell. This bond the sage asunder tears ; The fool to rend it never cares. Thou dost advise that I should please With sacrifice the deities. Such rites I disregard as vain ; Through these can none perfection gain. Why sate the gods, at cruel feasts. With flesh and blood of slaughtered beasts ? Far other sacrifices I Will offer unremittingly ; The sacrifice of calm, of truth, The sacrifice of peace, of ruth. ON TOLERATION. 35 Of life serenely, purely, spent, Of thought profound on Brahma bent. Who offers these, may death defy, And hope for immortality. And then thou say'st that I should wed, And sons should gain to tend me, dead. By offering pious gifts, to seal, When I am gone, my spirit's weal. But I shall ask no pious zeal Of sons to guard my future weal. No child of mine shall ever boast His rites have saved his father's ghost. Of mine own bliss I'll pay the price. And be myself my sacrifice. Buddhism orig'inally a Brahiuanic Sect. Between this view of life and that of the Buddhists the difference is very small. At first the followers of Buddha seem to have been but one out of many religious brotherhoods with which India has abounded at all times. We only know a few of them, because we know so little of ancient India, and all we know is taken from two or three literatures, that of the Brahmans, that of the Buddhists, and that of the Gainas. We must not imagine, however, that these three literatures, or what remains of them, represented at any time the whole intellectual and religious life of India. India is as large as Europe, without Russia, and its population is over 200 millions, most of them scattered in villages. Many of these villages probably never heard the name of the Veda, or the Tripi^aka, or the Ano'as. We are told that even now there are people in India who have never seen a white man. D 2 36 LECTUBE II. India is swarming with innumerable sects, and has always been a very hotbed of religious ideas. It was Cousin, the great French philosopher, whose knowledge of the history of European philosophy was probably uni'ivalled, who declared that India contained the whole history of philosophy in a nut-shell. And yet philosophers will continue to write on philosophical questions, as if Kapila and Ka7iada had never existed. And if India contains the history of philosophy in a nut-shell, it certainly is richer in material for the history of religion than any other country. No phase of religion, from the coarsest superstition to the most sublime enlightenment, is unrepresented in that country. And yet theologians will write on religious questions, as if the Vedas, the Pii^akas, the Aiigas, the Pura^iaSj and Tantras had never existed. Religious Discussions. It stands to reason that in a country swarming with religious sects like India, there must have been discussion and controversy on religious topics. And so there was from the earliest times. We read in the Upanishads of disputants who were ready to stake their heads, if thej^ should be worsted by argument. Nor need we wonder that there should have been differences of opinion, represented by different schools. We saw how in the Veda there stand side by side the most transparent natural polytheism in the hymns, the most minute and unmeaning ritualism in the Brahmarias, and the most subtle theosophy in the Upanishads. I do not doubt that these three strata represent originally three successive stages of historical growth ; but so long as we know anything of India, ON TOLERATION. 37 we find hymns, BrahmaTias, and Upanishads co- existing, and united under the common name of Veda, the Veda being recognised, not only as the highest authority on all religious questions, but as divine revelation in the fullest sense of that word. Remember then that the Vedic hymns are addressed to a number of gods of whom sometimes one, sometimes another is represented as supreme ; remember that in the Brahmar^as an enormous number of daily, monthly, quarterly, semestrial, and annual sacrifices are enjoined as the only means of salvation, whether they be offered to single gods or to Pra^apati, the lord of creation ; remember that the Upanishads, generally integral portions of these very Brahma^ias, teach in the clearest way that all the gods of the Veda are but names of one Supreme Being, whether we call it Brahman, or Atman ; that sacrificial acts, so far from helping man, are a snare and delusion, so long as he expects any reward for them, and that true salvation can be gained by knowledge only, by knowledge of the human self and its true relation to the Highest Self. All these opinions were upheld by certain teachers, and in their schools the minutest differences of opinion on religious ceremonial, and philosophical questions were discussed by the Brahmans. Yet all this was done peacefully and quietly, and we hear of no persecutions on account of differences of opinion. When Buddhism and 6rainism arose, about 500 B.C. the Brahmans had to defend their views against those of the new sects, the new sects criticised the old teaching of the Brahmans, and very soon various teachers among Buddhists and (jainas began to differ one from another. 38 LECTUKE II. We read, for instance, in the Buddhist scriptures, of several teachers, the contemporaries and rivals of Buddha, the best known being the 'NigSintha. Nata- putta, who has been recognised as the founder of the (raina sect, Pura^ia Kassapa, Makkhali of the cattle- pen (gosala), A(/ita with the garment of hair, Ka/c/vayan of the Pakudha tree, and Sa;7^aya, the son of the 'BelsiUhsi, the slave-girP. We hear of controversies between them ; and that even the imperturbable Bud- dha could use cutting words in these discussions, we may gather from what on one occasion he said of Makkhali of the cattle-pen : ' O ye disciples, as of all woven garments a garment of hair is deemed the worst, a garment of hair being cold in cold weather, hot in heat, of a dirty colour, of a bad smell, and rough to the touch, so, my disciples, of all doctrines of other ascetics and Brahmans the doctrine of Makkhali is deemed the worst ^.' In the canonical books of the (rainas also we read of Gosala, the son of Makkhali^, being defeated in disputation by Mahavira Nataputta. But though during Buddha's life we hear of such discussions, sometimes bitter discussions, between him and his disciples and other teachers, we never hear of persecutions on the side of the Brahmans, nor of any strong hostility on the side of the Buddhists. People disputed, but they tolerated each other ; they agreed to differ. * See Maha-parinibbana-sutta, V.60, as translated by Ehys Davids, in Sacred Books of the East, vol. xi. p. 10(5. Others take Gosala as a proper name, the Sk. Gosala. "^ Oldenberg, Buddha, p. 69. "' Gaina-sutras, translated by Jacobi, Sacred Books of the East, vol. xxii. Introd. p. xvi. ON TOLERATION. 39 After a time, however, Buddhism seems to have spread very rapidly, and to have led to great social and political changes. The dynasty founded by /fandragupta, at the time of Alexander the Great, was that of a pretender, a kind of Napoleon, not belonging by birth to the royal caste, and therefore bidding for popular support, wherever he could find it. It is possible that the Buddhists were more ready to recognise and support him than the orthodox Brahman s. Anyhow, under the reign of his grand- son, king Asoka (259-222 b. c), we see the followers of Buddha not only recognised, but patronised by the king, and we hear of a great Council held under his auspices to settle the sacred canon of the Buddhists. Toleration preached by Buddhism. In some respects Buddhism may be called a kind of Protestantism directed against Brahmanism, and we know that neither those who protest nor those who are protested against, are generally distinguished by mutual love and charity. The first authentic evi- dence of the political and social changes produced by the spreading of Buddhism in India, we have in those wonderful inscriptions of king Asoka, which are scattered over the whole of his dominions. They have suffered, no doubt, during the more than two thousand years that they have been exposed to the climate of India ; but, as they exist in many copies, their text has been restored, they have been published and interpreted, and we can now read them exactly as they were read by the subjects of king Asoka, whether Buddhists or Brahmans. Their decipher- ment is due to the combined labours of Prinsep, 40 LECTURE ir. Burnouf, Wilson, Norris, Biihler, and Senart. If then we remember that A.soka was a kind of Constantine, who owed much of his power to the support which he received from the new religion, or, if you like^ a kind of Henry VIII, hated by all who suffered under the new reform, you will be surprised to see how much more of true Christian charity was shown by this Buddhist king in the third century b. c. than by Constantine in the fourth, or by Henry VIII in the sixteenth century. The Edicts of Asoka. It may be true that the idea of putting up public inscriptions struck the Indian mind for the first time when Greek ideas had reached India after Alexander's conquests. But when Asoka had his inscriptions engraved on rocks and pillars, it was not in order to perpetuate his name or the names of his ancestors, it was not to glorify his own origin ; it was chiefly to preach toleration for all creeds. Thus he says in his Seventh Edict ^ : ' The king Piyadasi, dear to the gods, desires that all sects should dwell (in peace) everywhere ; for they all desire the control of the senses and purity of mind. Men, however, have different wishes and different passions ; they will perform the whole or a part only (of what they ought to do). But even he whose charity is not abundant, may surely always possess control of the senses, purity of mind, grati- tude, and loyalty I' ' Senart, Les inscriptions de Piyadasi, Pai'is, 1881, vol. i. p. 174. Buhler, Zeitschrift der D. M. G., xxxvii. p. 279. '■^ Buhler takes nifee, not for nityam, but for nlka, low, and ON TOLERATION. 41 And again, in his Twelfth Edict (1. c, p. 251), he says: 'The king Piyadasi, dear to the gods, honours all sects, those of hermits and those of householders, he honours them by alms and by different kinds of worship. But the king, dear to the gods, does not value alms and worship as much as the increase of essentials. And^ the increase of essentials does not differ much in different sects ; on the contrary, the true foundation of every one consists in the bridling of the tongue, so that neither should there be praising of one's own sect, nor disparagement of other sects, without a cause ; and whenever there is cause, it should be moderate ^. The religions of others may even be praised for any given reason^. In this manner a man may much advantage his own sect, and at the same time benefit that of others ; while if he acts otherwise, he damages his own sect and injures that of others. For whosoever exalts his own sect and disparages all others from a strong devotion to his own sect, but, in truth, from a wish that it should be rendered pre-eminent, he will, in this wise, injure his own sect much more. There- fore a mutual understanding is best, that all should listen to the teaching of others, and wish to listen. This is indeed the wish of the king, dear to the gods, that all sects should listen much, and be possessed of pure doctrines. And all who belong to this or to that translates : ' Even in a low person, to whom great liberality is not (possible), control of the senses, purification of the heart, gratitude, and loyalty are (something) beautiful.' ^ Biihler translates : ' The increase of the kernel of all sects (happiness) in different ways ; but its root is prudence in speech.' ^ Here I follow Biihler's translation. ^ According to Biihler's conjecture, tena tena pakalanena. 42 LECTURE ir. sect, should have it said to them that the king, dear to the gods, does not value alms and worship as much as the increase of essentials, and that respect should be shown to all sects ^.' The Tolerant Spirit of A.«oka. The exact meaning of these edicts, which king Asoka had engraved on rocks and pillars in different parts of his kingdom, is not always easy to discover, nor easy to express in our modern terminology. Still, we cannot be mistaken in giving him credit for a most tolerant spirit which finds but few parallels in ancient or modern history. He had recognised what many find so difficult to recognise even now, that we must distinguish between what is essential in all religions, what Asoka calls the sara or sap. and what is not. The number of religious and philosophical sects prevalent in India during the third century before our era must have been very considerable, and on some points their differences were no doubt very great. But Asoka gives them all credit for incul- cating the same lesson, namely, control of the passions, purity of mind, gratitude, and loyalty. And think what would be gained, if these four points were really gained by any religion ! And when he comes to what he calls the root or life-spring of religion, he finds it in mutual forbearance, and more particularly in the bridling of the tongue, as if anticipating the well- ^ Biihler translates the last line by : ' as that there should be an increase of the kernel with all sects, and a considerable one,* taking bahuka as an adjective referring to sfiravadhi. Professor Biihler has lately given a new translation of this twelfth edict from the Shahbhazgari version, which differs in some passages from the version given in the text. ON TOLEEATION. 43 known words : ' If any man among you seem to be religious, and bridleth not bis tongue, but deceiveth bis own beart, tbis man's religion is vain ^.' I doubt wbetber any otber religion could produce sucb royal edicts in favour of mutual toleration. Tbey are one of tbe brigbtest pages in tbe bistory of India, and I tbougbt it rigbt to make you acquainted witb tbem, because tbey sbow tbat a comparative study of religions bas some important lessons to teacb, even to us. If tberefore I may sometimes seem to speak too favourably of some of tbese religions^ may I not appeal to tbe words of king Asoka : ' For wbo- soever exalts bis own faitb and disparages all otbers from a strong devotion to bis own, be will injure bis own faitb.' And again : ' Tbe true foundation of every faitb consists in bridling the tongue, so tbat tbere sbould be neitber a praising of one's own reli- gion, nor disparagement of otbers.' Disappearance of Buddhism in India. Wbetber tbese edicts of Asoka were always obeyed, is anotber question ; but even as an aspiration, tbey deserve our respect. History, so far as we can speak of bistory in India, certainly seems to teacb tbat tbe sentiments of forbearance and brotberly love, incul- cated in tbese edicts, bave not always been obeyed by tbe rulers and by tbe people of tbat country. Tbe ruins of Buddbist monasteries, tombs, monuments, and pillars, scattered over tbe wbole of India, tell a terrible tale. For some centuries tbe Buddbist reli- gion must bave ruled supreme in India. During tbe period covered by tbe travels of tbe Cbinese pilgrims, 1 Ep. St. James, i. 26. 44 LECTURE 11. from 400 to 700, though the kings still preached toleration, and encouraged peaceful congresses for the discussion of religious questions, we hear already of many Viharas or monasteries being deserted, of many Stiipas, or pillars, lying prostrate. How Buddhism was exterminated in India, we shall never know. But the fact remains that Buddhism exists no longer as an Indian religion. It lives in Ceylon, from whence it has spread in its southern branch to Burma and Siam, and it lives in Nepal, from whence in its northern branch it spread to Tibet, Mongolia, China, and Japan. But in India proper Buddhism has ceased to exist, and the religious census returns no Buddhists except as strangers and pilgrims in their Holy Land, the birth-place of Buddha. So much for kino- Asoka, the great ruler of India in the third century B. c. We have to remember so many kings for their intolerance. Let us give to king Asoka a niche in our memory for his tolerant spirit, for his benevolence, his large-heartedness, — for that broad and wide view of religion which in our days is so often stigmatised as latitudinarianism. It seems often to be supposed that if we praise one religion, we tacitly blame others. That is not so. If I call Buddhism tolerant, I do not mean to imply that Christianity is intolerant. Some who call themselves Christians may be intolerant, but the spirit of Chris- tianity itself is not so. Those who so often quote the words (Matth. xii. 30), ' He that is not with me, is against me,' forget the words (Mark ix. 40), 'For he that is not against us, is on our part.' ON TOLEKATION. 45 Toleration in the Jewish Religfion. The greatest inincls, whatever their religion, have always been the most tolerant and charitable. We often see how the founders of new religions en- deavoured to retain all that was good and true in the religions from which they seceded. They came to fulfil, not to destroy. Even the Jewish religion, which is often represented as ver}^ intolerant, was not so from the first. The Mosaic Law commanded that the stranger should not be oppressed — ' for you know the heart of a stranger, seeing you were strangers in the land of Egypt.' The Jews were told : ' Ye shall have one law as well for the stranger as for one of your own country.' Now in the eyes of a Jew a stranger was a man who worshipped false gods, and yet Moses claimed tolera- tion and protection for him. It was owing to political circumstances that the Jewish religion became in time so strongly national and exclusive, and it was the influence of the Rabbis that imparted to it in later times so narrow-minded and dogmatic a character. Still, there were Eabbis and Rabbis, and some of them would, I believe, put the most enlightened of our Biblical critics to shame by the tolerant spirit in which they treat the most widely-diifering interpretations of the Old Testament. Thus it is laid down in the Talmud ^ as a general principle of interpretation, ' that the Sacred Scriptures speak in a language that should be intelligible to men.' A living Rabbi, Dr. Flirst, ^ Maccoth, 12 a ; Kiddushin, 17 b. 46 LECTUKE II. remarks on this that ' if the Bible speaks of the four ends of the earth, which rests on its pillars, or of the sky stretched out like a tent, or of the sun as running his course like a hero round the earth,' the Jews in ancient times were far from seeinc^ in such expressions matters of fact which science was not allowed to question or to reject. People said that the Scripture used expressions which should be intelli- gible to men such as they were at the time ^. No one was called a heretic because he did not believe in the pillars on which the earth was said to rest. With us also, when children are taught to pray to their Father in heaven, the only idea which they, as children, can connect with heaven, is the blue sky. This is so during childhood, and it has been so during the childhood of the human race. The Romans called the gods superi, those above. They spoke of them naturally as descending from the clouds to the earth, and they spoke of the favourites of their gods as having been lifted up to heaven. Our own word heaven is derived from heaving, and meant originally what had been heaved on high. We know all this — we know it is inevitable, and w^e do not blame chil- dren when they retain for a time these childish ideas, inherited from the childhood of our race. But, to judge from some recent theological contro- versies, the question seems no longer to be whether we can tolerate this language of children, but whether the children — children whether in age or in know- ledge— will tolerate us. ^ Das peinliche Rechtsverfahrm im jiklischm Alterthum, Heidelberg, 1870, p. 38. ON TOLERATION. 47 Jewisli Interpretation of the Bible. Let me explain more fully what I mean. I shall quote again a Jewish Kabbi, and you will see how much more enlightened some of these despised Rabbis were than some of our leading theoloofians. Eabbi Jose says that ' the descent of God on Mount Sinai must not be taken in a literal sense,' and he continues, ' as little as the ascent of Moses and Elijah^.' Now, I ask, Do we always bear this in mind ? Do we remember that the descent of Jehovah on Mount Sinai, as described in Exodus, and his carrying down the heavy tables of stone to hand them to Moses, must not, nay, cannot be taken, without irreverence, in a literal sense. Every educated, every serious-minded person knows it. The very Fathers of the Church, who have so often been appealed to in support of antiquated errors, protest against the literal inter- pretation of such passages in the Bible, — passages to which so many of our most troublesome miracles are due. May we no longer claim the same freedom of the spirit against the slavery of the letter, which even in the first half of the second century was boldly claimed by, and freely granted to, such a man as Justin Martyr ! ' You are not to think,' he writes, ' that the unbegotten God came down from anywhere, or went up.' Thus by one stroke, this great Father of the Church, whom no orthodox theologian would venture to contradict, removes, or rather explains, a number of so-called miracles which we, in the nine- teenth century, are told we must not touch, we must not venture to explain, we must not venture to try to 1 Sukka, 5 a. 48 LECTURE II. understand. Those who do so nevertheless, who study ancient language and ancient thought, are called Rationalists — a name meant, I believe, as a reproach, but in reality the proudest title in the eyes of every rational man, for it means a man who tries to use, to the best of his power, the best gift which God has given us, namely, our reason. It is useless to fio-ht aojainst the truth— truth will conquer us all, even the most orthodox. I have often been told that I ought to have followed the example of my colleague at Edinburgh, Mr. Hutchinson Stirling, the only orthodox among the Gifford Lecturers. I grant that Mr. Hutchinson Stirling is most orthodox, but he is also a scholar and thoroughly honest. I doubt whether those who represent him as the cham- pion of what they call orthodoxy have really read his lectures. When we read in the Bible that the walls of Jericho fell at the blast of the trumpet, or when the author of the Epistle to the Hebrews tells us that the walls of Jericho fell by faith, after they were com- passed about some days, what does Mr. Hutchinson Stirling say? Does he accept this as a miracle? Far from it. He sees in it nothing but what he calls Oriental phantasy, expressing in a trope the signal speed of the event, as if we were to say, that the walls fell at the first blast of the trumpet. He goes still further and says, without any misgiving: 'He who would boggle at the wife of Cain (whose daughter she was) or stumble over the walls of Jericho, is not an adult : he is but a boy still.' This is quite true ; the only question is whether the boys, because they are many, should rule the masters, or the masters the boys. Should we then allow ourselves to be frightened ON TOLEKATION. 49 by another argument, namely that all this may be true, but that such facts and such interpretations are for the few, not for the many, and that more particu- larly the young would suffer shipwreck of their faith, if they were told that Jehovah did not reside in the blue sky, that He did not descend on Mount Sinai in j&re, carrying in His arms the tables of the law to hand them to Moses 1 Archdeacon Farrar has been a schoolmaster for many years, yet he did not hesitate to say, ' We do not sup- pose that heaven is a cubic city.' Is there really any danger in this, and, if there is, should it not be faced ? I believe that so long as a child's mind is still unable to take in more than the idea of God dwelling in the clouds and descending on Mount Sinai in a bodily form, as working Himself with His own tools the tables of stone, as writing Himself with His own finger the ten commandments in Hebrew on the stone, nothing will disturb his childish thoughts. But if he has once learnt to conceive God as a spirit, whom no man can see and live, no authority will be strong enough to convince him that the account given in Exodus should be accepted in a literal and material sense. The Ascent of Elijah. And what applies to the descent of Jehovah applies equally, as Justin Martyr said, to all descents from heaven, and all ascents to heaven. If we understand the language of the time, we can well understand the true meaning of the ascent of Elijah, as told in the Old Testament. But I doubt whether any serious student of the Bible would bring himself to say that the passage, as we read it there (2 Kings ii. 11), (3) E 50 LECTURE IT. was meant to vouch for an historical event, namely that there appeared a real chariot of fire, and real horses of fire, and parted them both (Elijah and Elisha) asunder ; and that Elijah went up by a whirlwind into heaven. The Ascension of Christ. If then their own learned Rabbis, who knew the languaofe of the Bible as their own, exhorted the Jews to take Elijah's ascent to heaven in a spiritual, and not simply in a material sense, why has so much in- tolerance been shown of late to clergymen of the Church of England who claimed the same freedom with regard to Christ's ascension, and tried to see in it a spiritual truth, and not a merely material event? The pictorial language is much stronger in the case of the assumption of Elijah, and yet it was rightly in- terpreted. In the case of Christ the fact of His body being lifted from the mountain and passing through the clouds, as we see it in many well-known pictures, and as it is impressed on the minds of many children, is really never mentioned ; and if it were, it ought to be understood in its deep spiritual meaning, and not as a merely miraculous event. The first Gospel is altogether silent. In the Gospel of St. Mark the most simple language is used, that ' He was received up into heaven, and sat on the right hand of God.' Can we doubt of the true meaning of these words ? Does any one really believe that the approach to God is through the clouds ? The third Gospel says, ' He was parted from them, and carried up into heaven.' St. John is reverently silent as to any bodily assumption, though the expressions that Christ descended from ON TOLEEATION. 51 heaven and ascended up to heaven are most familiar to him in their true spiritual meaning. (St. John iii. 13; vi. 62; xx. 17.) It is in the Acts of the Apostles that the ascension seems to assume a more material character, though even here the expressions of His being seen going up to heaven, or taken up, and received by a cloud out of their sight, must be taken in a spiritual sense. The material fact was, that He was withdrawn from their vision. The spiritual meaning was, that He was raised up and exalted to the right hand of God (Acts ii. 33), that He 'ascended on high and led captivity captive ' (Psalm Ixviii. 18). We can well understand that to some minds, and more particularly to the minds of children, the material miracle of a passage through our terrestrial atmosphere is a necessity. It requires less effort, less thought, it requires less of real faith. So long as the blue sky is believed to be heaven, so long as the lessons of astronomy do not open wider views of God's universe, a mere passage through the clouds has nothing to disturb a childlike imagination. Nor is there any reason why this view should not be tolerated for a time, during the days of childhood, as it is sure to disclose its spiritual meaning in the end. It is the discovery of that spiritual meaning which requires real faith ; while if we looked upon the ascension as simply a material fact or an historical event, we should simply have to submit the evidence, like the evidence of any other historical event, to a critical examination, and reject or accept it as we reject or accept the disap- pearance of Romulus on the authority of Livy, i. 16. E2 52 LECTURE II. Spiritual only. Some people say that they can derive no help, no comfort, from what they call spiritual only. Spiritual only — think what that only would mean, if it could have any meaning at all ! We might as well say of light that it is light only, and that what we want is the shadow which we can grasp. So long as we know the shadow only, and not the light that throws it, the shadow only is real, and not the light. But when we have once turned our head and seen the light, the light only is real and substantial, and not the shadow. All this is a matter of growth, of spiritual growth, and that growth, though it need not be hurried, ought never to be checked. There is a period in the history of the world, and there is a period in the life of every individual, during which the material shadows only seem to be real, while the light behind us seems a mere illusion, the result of a deduction. Nay, even when that deduction has been made, and has proved ir- resistible to human reason, the human heart often hesitates. There are many to whom the spirit seems something too shadowy, not half so real as the body, and the utmost they can grasp is what they call a spiritual body. If they can connect any definite meaning with such an expression, let them do so. But why should others who have learnt to believe in the stem reality of the spirit, have to plead for tolera- tion? Why should those to whom the material miracle would be no help at all, while the spiritual fact, the true ascension of Christ, is a necessity, why should they be deprived of that freedom which even ON TOLERATION. 53 Jewish Rabbis and the Fathers of the Church enjoyed, of interpreting the Bible according to the language of the time? Why should not the two hve peaceably together, remembering the edict of Asoka, ' that respect should be shown to all sects ; ' and if to all sects, why not to all ages of men^ to all stages of thought ? We want more faith, not less. If there had been more of these Jewish Rabbis, think how many controversies might have been pre- vented. The Solstice of Joshua. Think of the long controversies carried on at the time of Galileo ! At first so-called logical arguments were used to show that the earth could not possibly move. I shall give you a specimen or two : ' All animals which are able to move have mem- bers and muscles, The Earth has no members and no muscles, Therefore it does not move — quod erat demon- stranduioi.' Or better still, to quote Chiaramonti : 'Angels cause Saturn, Jupiter, and the Sun to move, and The Earth also, if it does move, must be moved by angels in its centre. But in that centre of the Earth dwell devils. Therefore devils would have to move the Earth — which is impossible.' But when these neatly-contrived syllogisms produced no longer any effect, an irresistible appeal was made to 54 LECTUKE II. the Bible. Ever so many passages were then quoted from the Bible to show that Copernicus and Galileo could not be right, because their view of the world was contradicted by the express language of the Bible. In the Bible the sun is spoken of as moving, and Joshua said to the sun, ' Sun, stand thou still.' Must we then surrender our faith in the Bible or shut our eyes to the facts of science ? The Jewish Rabbis would have given a better answer than was given at the time by Popes or Councils : ' The Bible must be interpreted according to the language of the time.' Joshua spoke as many a hero or poet would speak even now, however convinced he might be that the sun never moved. We read in the Odyssey (xxiii. 243) that on the day when Odysseus and Penelope were reunited, Athene lengthened the night, and kept Eos, the dawn, back in the ocean, not allow- ing her to harness the quick-footed horses, Lampos and Phaeton, who bring light to men. But do we imagine that Athene really upset the course of nature? Does anybody with any sense of poetry doubt that all that Homer wished to say was that those who, like Odysseus and Penelope, believed in the protecting care of Athene, felt as if she had lengthened for them the happiness of their reunion ? Again, when we read in the Iliad (xviii. 239) that, after the death of Patroklos, Hera sent Helios against his will to dive into the waves of the ocean, can we doubt that what the poet really meant was no more than that the Trojans felt grateful to Hera, when the sun set sooner than they expected, and the revenge of Achilles was stayed for that day ? We lose nothing by accepting these true and ON TOLERATION. 55 natural explanations. Even in the case of Joshua we lose nothing, we only gain. Joshua is represented to us as eager to destroy the Amorites, who had been defeated and were fleeing before him. Whatever we may think of his warfare, he believed that in destroy- ing the Amorites, he was doing the work of God. When darkness seemed to come upon him and to prevent him from finishing his work, what was more natural than that he should exclaim : ' Sun, stand thou still upon Gibeon, and thou. Moon, in the valley of Ajalon.' He is not the only general who has uttered such a prayer^. And if the Israelites finished their slaughter before nightfall, their poets would have been very diflTerent from all other poets, if they had not sung that the Lord had delivered their enemies into their hands, and that ' the sun stood still in the midst of heaven, and hasted not to go down about a whole day.' All this is natural and intelligible, and, what is most important, it does no violence to our sense of truth. For, however anxious people may be to accept every event recorded in the Old Testament as his- torical, it must require an eflfort to believe that such an event as stopping the sun and moon took place in the year 1520 B.C., without being observed anywhere except in the valley of Ajalon, and, let me add, with- out upsetting the whole order of the planetary system. These are what I mean by the so-called physical miracles which science has proved to be once for all impossible, not the true miracles of which Mohammed spoke, when he said, 'You want to see miracles — look at the sun.' And there is no necessity here for doing violence to our sense of truth, if only we ^ See 'India, what can it teach us?' p. 182. 56 LECTURE II. remember the ruling of the old Rabbis, that the Scripture speaks in language intelligible to men. But now let me tell you what may happen, if we forget that ruling, and take this poetical language in its literal sense. Fasti Temporis Catholici. Many years ago, when I fii-st came to Oxford, the University Press published a work in four large volumes, called Fasti Temporis Catholici and Origines Kalendariae, by the Rev. Edward Greswell, 1852. It is a work full of learning, full of ingenuity. But its principal object is to show that there is a perfect agreement between astronomical and historical chrono- logy. The beginning of astronomical chronology is fixed most minutely in the year 4004, in the week between April 25 and May 2. Then by following the solar and lunar years, and by taking into considera- tion all eclipses of the sun and the moon, the dates of ancient and modern history are brought into perfect agreement with the recorded and calculated move- ments of the heavenly bodies. But when all is done, there remains a small discrepancy. There are twenty- four hours less of astronomical than of historical time. And how do you think this discrepancy is accounted fori By the time that the sun stood still at the command of Joshua, and by the time that the sun returned backward ten degrees on the dial of Ahaz in the time of Hezekiah, on the 31st of March, 710 B.C. (2 Kings xx. 11). You would be surprised at the learning that is expended in these four volumes in order to establish the fact that this addition of twenty-four hours was really made to Avhat we call ON TOLERATION. 57 time, and how it agrees with the whole system of astronomical chronology, and forms in reality a most valuable confirmation of the historical truth of the Old Testament. It may be so in the eyes of some people, and if it is a plank which has saved them from drown- ing, who would interfere with them? Who would use against these learned arguments any weapons except those of unimpassioned verification ? So long as the world remains what it is and always has been, so long as there are children and grandmothers, edu- cated and uneducated, wise and foolish people, people who dare not speak the truth, even when they know it, and people who dare not not speak the truth, if once they know it, there will be difference in religious opinions as in everything else. Diversity of Opinion inevitable. However strong the desire for unity and uniformity in religion may be, it requires but a small knowledge of the history of religion, it requires no more than that we should look around, in order to feel convinced that this ideal will never be realised. One feels surprised when one reads how Mohammed, who is considered the most intolerant of prophets, exclaims in the Koran (X. 99) : ' Had thy Lord pleased, all who are in the earth would have believed altogether : as for thee, wilt thou force men to become believers ^ ? ' And again: 'Follow what is revealed to you, and be patient until God judges, for He is the best of judges.' This was the language of Mohammed, though hardly his practice. Look how Christianity is divided into three hostile ^ Krehl, Glauben, p. 25. 58 LECTURE II. camps, Roman Catholics, Greeks, and Protestants. Yet they are all Christians. Look at the divisions among Protestants, in Germany, Holland, England, and America. Yet they are all Christians. Look again in each division at the variety of opinions preached every Sunday from the same pulpits and listened to by the same congregations. Yet they are all Christians. Why should we always dwell on the differences which divide the Roman Catholic, the Greek, and the Protestant Churches 1 M^hy should we be disheartened at the multiplicity of Protestant sects, and at the numberless shades of doctrine and ritual which we see in cathedrals, churches, chapels, and meeting- houses ? Are not the beliefs which they all share in common infinitely more numerous and infinitely more essential than those on which they difier ? And yet these difierences, in some cases so small as almost to defy definition, are allowed to separate so-called Christian denominations, while the magnificent in- heritance of truth which belongs to all of them is wilfully ignored. Christianity, which in the be- ginning was the most tolerant of all religions, seems to have become the most intolerant. We say, no longer, ' He who is not against us, is for us ; ' we always seem to say, ' He who is not with us, is against us.' It is an easy excuse to say that this or that point is essential, and that whosoever will be saved must hold it. Many things seem essential to the young which are looked upon in a very different light by the old. To quote the words of one of the highest ecclesiastical dignitaries in this very city, ' Man judges ON TOLERATION. 59 more wisely of what is essential and what is indifferent in the quiet sunset of life, than during the heat and burden of the day i.' A Comparative Study of Religions teaches Tolerance. And here I say once more, that a serious study of the great religions of the world may prove a great help and a most efficient remedy against intolerance. A story was told of Macaulay when, after his return from India, he stood as Member of Parliament for Edinburgh. He had been heckled by some ministers who wanted to find out whether he was quite sound on certain minute points of doctrine, which were too minute even for so acute an intellect as Macaulay's. ' Gentlemen,'' he exclaimed at last^ ' if you had lived for some years, as I have, in a country where people worship the cow, you would not waste your thoughts on such trifles.' Macaulay was right. The essentials of religion may be found in almost every religion, even among those who have a superstitious feeling about a cow. When one sees the struggles through which mankind has to pass in order to establish the few fundamental principles of religion, and to gain a recognition for the simplest rules of morality, one learns to be very grateful to the founders of every religion for what they have achieved. Man can be a very wild beast, and to have induced him, not only to believe in a supreme government of the world, but to restrain his selfish passions in submission to a higher will, that is a real miracle. You remember what A«oka called ^ Speech of the Bishop of Glasgow at the Church Congress ; see H 60 LECTURE II. the essentials, or the sap of religion — control of the senses, purity of mind, gratitude, and loyalty. These he finds inculcated by all the sects in India, however different in other respects. We occupy a much higher point of view than Asoka, and looking at the work done by religion in all parts of the world, we may learn that in these essentials all religions are really one. There are differences, there are great differences, between the great religions of the world, between their sects, between their individual members. But there is a unity which ought to comprehend them all — the unity of toleration, the unity of love. LECTURE III. SUMMARY OF THE RESULTS OF PHYSICAL RELIGION. Outcome of Physical Relig-ion. BEFORE we proceed to an analysis of what is meant by Anthropological Religion, it will be useful to look back to see what has been the outcome of our last course of lectures. To put it as briefly as possible, it was this, that man, as soon as he began to observe, to name, and to know the movements and changes in the world around him, suspected that there was something behind what he saw, that there must be an agent for every action, a mover for every movement. Instead of saying and thinking, as we do at present, the rain, the thunder^ the "nioon, he said, the rainer, the thunderer, the measurer. Instead of saying and thinking, as we do at present, It rains, It thunders, he said, He rains, He thunders, without caring as yet who that He might be. Man could not help this. He was driven, as we saw, to speak in this way by a necessity inherent in language, that is, in thought. This necessity arose from the fact that his earliest concepts consisted in 62 LECTURE TIT. the consciousness of bis own repeated acts, and that the only elements of conceptual speech which were at his disposal, the so-called roots, were all, or nearly all, expressive of his own actions. If this is true, and I do not know of any one who has seriously controverted it, it is clear that man in speaking of a rainer, a thunderer, a measurer, was unconsciously, or at least unintentionally, speaking and thinking in what Kant w^ould call the category of causality. The rainer was not only a name for the rain, but a name for a rainer, the agent of the rain, whoever or whatever that agent might be. This category of causality which most philosophers consider as the sine qua non of all rational thought^, and as an indefeasible necessity of our understanding, thus manifests itself in the historical growth of the human mind as the sine qua non of all rational speech, as an indefeasible necessity of our very language. This is an unexpected coincidence, and therefore, if properly understood, all the more valuable and significant. Orig-in of the Concept of Cause. What is meant by philosophers when they speak of the category of causality as a form, and as a necessary form of pure reason, is simply this — that, whether we like it or not, we cannot help conceiving whatever we conceive, except as cause and effect. Our reason knows of nothing, and tolerates nothing that is not either cause or eftect. We may not always dwell on this side of our experience, when we speak of rain or thunder, of sunshine or storm. But we always imply that every link in our experience is determined by a EESULTS OF PHYSICAL RELIGION. 63 preceding link, and will in turn determine a succeding link. ' There is nothing in the world without a cause,' this is the fundamental article of all philosophical faith. Whether that faith is, as some philosophers maintain, the result of experience, is quite another question. I hold, of course, with Kant, that no experience could ever give to this article of philosophic faith the character of universality and necessity which it possesses, and without which it would cease to be what it is. Nay, I go further, and maintain that, if ever we were to find ourselves in a world not held together by causality, a mere chaos, we should still retain our belief in causality. The very name of chaos would prove our ingrained faith in causality, for it is a negation of causality, and we could not deny causality without first having conceived it. But that is not the question at present. Our question is, how the human mind became possessed for the first time of that ineradicable faith in universal causality. No one would venture to say that the human mind, though always under the sway of causality, was from the first conscious of it in its abstract form, as a law of thought. Historically and linguistically, what we now call cause, was first considered and named as an agent, nay as something like a human agent. When I have used the argument that we are so made that whenever we see a movement, we require a mover, whenever we observe an action, we require an agent, I have been asked what I meant by ' we are so made.' Other philosophers, from Plato to Kant, have answered that question, each in his own, and yet all in the same way, so that I thought I need not repeat 64 LECTURE III. their arguments. I preferred to give my own argu- ment, namely, that our language is so made that from the very first we cannot even speak of anything except as a mover, an agent, a doer. This may to some seem an illustration only. To those, however, who know the true meaning of Logos, and who have perceived once for all the inseparableness of language and thought, it is a great deal more than an illustration, and perhaps the strongest and most palpable argument in support of the inevitable character of the concept of causality that could be adduced. But let us throw a glance at one of the earliest arguments in support of our belief in movers in every movement, and agents in every act. Plato on the Gods. Plato, in the Laws (p. 893), begins his induction in proof of the existence of gods, by observing that all things either move or are at rest. He then distinguishes between what is able to move other things, but not to move itself, and what is able to move itself as well as other things ; and he shows how self-motion is the oldest and mightiest principle of change. When that motion is seen in any earthy, watery, or fiery substance, we should call it life, and likewise when we observe in it what he calls psyche, and what we translate by soul. He then proceeds to show that what we mean by psyche is really the same as what is able to move itself — what I call the agent — and that soul is the first origin and moving power of all that is, or has been, or will be, while body, or what is moved, comes second and is born to obey the soul. KESULTS OF PHYSICAL RELIGIOX. 65 The soul, according to Plato, receives the divine mind and then controls heaven and earth and the whole world. After these preliminary remarks, Plato proceeds to apply this reasoning to the heavens, the sun, moon, and stars. Every one, he says, sees the sun, but no one sees his soul. Yet there must be a soul, whether it is within the sun or without, and this soul of the sun should be deemed a god by every man who has the least particle of sense. And the same, he says, applies to all the other heavenly bodies, and to the months, and seasons, and years, so that we perceive that all things are full of gods ^. You see that we have only to substitute for Plato's psyche, or soul, or what is able to move itself, what we call agents, and his argument for the existence of gods becomes the same as our own for the existence of agents, and, at last, of one agent behind all the phenomena of nature. And that we may do so, that Plato really means by psyche, soul, that which is able to move itself without being moved, he has told us himself in so many words. What Plato called souls, what I call agents, others who speak a more poetical and legendary language have sometimes called angels. But we all mean the same thing. Thus Newman writes {A2Jologia, p. 28) : ' I considered the angels as the real causes of motion, light, and life, and of those elementary principles of the physical universe, which, when offered in their developments to our senses, suggest to us the notion of cause and effect, and of what are called the laws of nature.' This may sound very childish to our ears, ' A saying ascribed to Thales. (3) F 66 LECTURE III. but it was a very common mode of expression in the early ages of Christianity. Let us now return to our own argument. First Consciousness of our Acts. Psychologists tell us that the fii'st manifestation of self-consciousness in man consists, not only as a fact, but by necessity, in the consciousness of our own acts. Even of our suffering, we are told, we become conscious only when we act, or react, against it, when we resist or try to escape from it. Mere sensuous impressions may come and go, unobserved, unnamed, um'ecorded,but our own acts must always be accompanied by a conscious- ness that they are the acts of ourselves, the acts of a self different from other selves. I do not speak of purely mechanical or involuntary acts ; they would ipso facto cease to be what can properly be called acts. If then we can well understand how our true consciousness begins with the consciousness of our own acts, whatever the impulse of these acts may have been, it would seem to follow that our true language also, as distinct from mere cries of joy or pain, should begin with signs of our own acts. And this, as we shall see, which at first was a mere postu- late of the psychologist, has now received the most complete confirmation from the Science of Language. Some philosophers try to go back even further. They observe that breathing of a certain sort is crying, and that children have no language but a cry. As the muscles of a child increase in strength, he begins to gesticulate, and his cries diminish in propor- tion to the increase of his vestures. His cries become RESULTS OF PHYSICAL RELIGION. 67 also more difFerentiated, and they accompany certain of his acts and wishes with such regularity that a nurse can often understand the different meanings o£ these cries ^. All this is true, and may throw some light on certain phases in the growth of the human mind and of human language. It may show the close connection between certain acts and certain sounds, but it does not touch the real problem, the historical origin and growth of language and thought, which must be studied first of all a i^osteviori, that is, by an analysis of language, such as we actually find it, not by a mere synthesis of possibilities. Postulate of Psychology fulfilled by Iianguag-e. Now an analysis of language, and more particularly of the Aryan and Semitic languages, carried on without any preconceived psychological theories, has clearly shown that what w^e call roots, that is, the real elements of speech which defy further analysis, are all, with a few insignificant exceptions, expressive of the acts of man. They signify to go, to run, to strike, to push, to find, to bend, to join, to rub, to smoothe, and a number of similar acts of a more or less special character, such as would be most familiar to the members of an incipient society. Much may lie even beyond this stage when the acts of men received their simple expression. But these earlier stages concern the biologist, possibly the geologist. They do not concern the student of language and thought. With a small number of radicals, such as we find at the end of our analysis of speech, more particularly of ^ See an able article by Dr. J. M. Buckley, The Philosophy of Gesture, in Werner's Voice Magazine, Nov. 1890. F 2 68 LECTURE IIT. Aryan and Semitic speech, it was found possible to express all that was wanted in an early state of society; while looks, gestures, cries, accents would, no doubt, have helped to supply what in more developed languages is supplied by grammar. How these radicals arose, why they had one sound and not another, we cannot tell. Not even the most careful observations of children in their cradles can help us here. What Bopp said in 1833 is quite as true to-day. We shall never know why the act of going was signified by the sound ga, the act of stand- ing by the sound stha. We can only accept the fact that they were felt to be natural expressions for the acts which they signified^ or that they remained out of a number of cognate sounds which might have answered the same purpose. If I call, for instance, such a root as MAR, the clamor concomitans of the act of pounding or rubbing, I do not mean to say that this was the only possible sound that could have accompanied this special act, but simply that it was one out of many that did accompany that act, and that it survived in the struggle for existence in the Aryan family of speech. I tried to explain how with such a root as MAR man might convey a command, asking his friends to pound or strike. He might also inform them that he was himself in the act of pounding and striking. Nay, he might point to a stone with which he pounded as a pounder, and to the pounded stones as the result of his pounding, as pounded or powder. In this way the whole world of his experience would be divided into two spheres, what we call an active and a passive sphere. The result of an act, RESULTS OF PHYSICAL RELIGION. 69 the pounded stones, for instance, would be passive, while whatever produces such results would be active. First of all, the man himself who pounded, then also his fellow-workers, would all be active. Even the instruments they used, whether of stone, or wood, or metal, would have to be named as active, as pounders, as borers, or cutters. Naming of Objects. It has been urged with an air of triumph that it might be quite possible with a given number of active roots to express all that is active, but that this theory would break down, when we try to account for the names of objects, such as a stone, or a tree^ or a knife ^. This, no doubt, is a difficulty, but when that difficulty has been fully discussed both by Professor Noire and by myself, it is rather hard that we should be supposed never to have thought of it. It is true that we do not quite take the same view of the psychological process that led to the naming of objects. But we do not diffe as to the facts, and these facts are there to speak for themselves. First of all, with regard to the naming of instru- ments, we find that even in our modern languages we still speak of scrapers, pincers, squeezers, borers, holders, etc., all conceived originally as active, though we are hardly conscious of it now. It was the same in Latin, Greek, and Sanskrit. Thus vomer, a plough- share, was really he who threw up ; securis, an axe, was really she who cut ; ((^arrip was a girder, before it ^ Athencmtyn, Dec. 6, 1890. 70 LECTUKE III. became a mere girdle. Even such words as ivhvTijp, a cloak, was at first he who helped to clothe, just as in German, ein tlberzieher, an overcoat, was originally he who drew over or covered. All this may seem strange to us, but it is still perfectly intelligible to popular poets. There is a famous German Volkslied, in which a soldier addresses his old cloak, and says : 'Thou art thirty years old And hast weathered many a storm — Thou hast guarded me, like a brother, And when the cannons thundered, We two have never trembled.' In all these words, the masculine came first, then the feminine, and lastly the neuter. But how were mere objects named, it is asked. Noire has laboured very hard to show that, at first, they too could only have been named and conceived as our acts ; that a cave, for instance, could only have become objective to us as our subjective act, viz. as our excavating. This may sound very unlikely, but here also language has still preserved a few faint vestiges of its former ways. Even now, how do people in a primitive state of society call a newly-opened mine 1 Our diggings, they say. The French "inaison, house, meant origi- nally a remaining, Lat. "inansio, a mansion. The venison which we eat was called venatlo, our chase, our sport, and all such words as oration, invention^ pension, ^^icto-e, were names of acts, before they became the names of objects. After a time, no doubt, the human mind accustomed itself to look upon the actions as independent of the agents, the cutter became a ship, the cutting a slice, the lurlting a book. But the chain from the active root to the passive RESULTS OF PHYSICAL RELIGION. 71 nouns was never broken, and every link is there to attest the continuous progress of human language and human thought. The Ag-ents in Nature. If then we ask ourselves how, with such materials at their disposal as have been discovered by students in the lowest stratum of human speech, the ancient dwellers on earth could think and speak of the great phenomena of nature, say the storm- wind, the fire, the sun, the sky, we shall see that, at first, they could name and conceive them in no other way but as active or as agents, and not yet as mere causes. What we now call the category of causality is no doubt at the bottom of all this, but historically it manifested itself, first of all, not in a search for something like a cause, but in the assertion of some- thing like an agent. The storm-wind, if it was to be singled out at all, if it was to be named with the materials supplied by the radical dictionary of that early period of thought, could be called in one way only, as the pounder, the striker, the smasher. And so it was as a matter of fact. From the root MAR, to smash, we found that the Aryas had formed the name Mar-ut, the smashers, the name of what we now call the gods of the storm-wind, while to them it was no more at first than a name of the agents of the storm-wind. We saw that the same process of naming the most prominent phenomena of nature led in the end to the creation of a complete physical pantheon. Not only trees, mountains, and rivers were named as agents, but the sea and the earth, the fii^e and the wind, the sky, 72 LECTUKE III. the stars, the sun, the dawn, the moon, day and night, all were represented under different names as agents. Transition to Human Ag'ents. It might be said that with all this we had only- explained why every object of experience had to be named and conceived at first as an agent, and that we have not explained why it should ever have been conceived as a human agent. This is quite true. But if we consider that all roots were originally the expressions of human actions, and that they were predicated at first of human agents, it becomes per- fectly intelligible how, when nothing but human agents were known as yet, other agents, having the same names as human agents, should have been conceived as something like human agents. Suppose that a strong man had been called a striker, and that he had spoken of himself as / strike, of others as thou strikest, and he strikes, was it not almost inevit- able that, if the lightning was called a striker, he should likewise be spoken of as something like a man who strikes, and that people should say of that lightning striker, he strikes, and not as yet, it strikes. Difference between Human and Super-human Ag'ents. No doubt a difierence was soon perceived between the ordinary human strikers, and that terrible and irresistible striker, the lightning. And what would be the inevitable result of this ? The striker in the lightning would by necessity be called a non-human striker, and from a non-human striker to a super- human striker the steps are small and few. RESULTS OF PHYSICAL RELIGION. 73 So far, I hope, all is clear, for the process is really extremely simple. Whatever in nature had to be named, could at first be named as an agent only. Why "? Because the roots of language were at first expressive of agency. Having been named as agents, and no other agents being known but human agents, the agents in nature were, if not necessarily, yet very naturally, spoken of as like human agents, then as more than human agents— and, at last, as superhuman agents. The True Meaning of Animism. Consider now how different this is from what is generally understood by Animism and Anthropo- morphism. The facts are no doubt the same, but the explanation is totally different, theoretical in the one case, historical in the other ; nay, irrational in the one case, rational in the other. I cannot help calling it irrational when we are asked to believe that at any time in the history of the world a human being could have been so dull as not to be able to distinguish between inanimate and animate beings, a distinction in which even the higher animals hardly ever go wrong; or again that man was pleased to ascribe life or a soul to the sun and the moon, to trees and rivers, though he was perfectly aware that they possessed neither one nor the other. Even Mr. Herbert Spencer protests against this insult to the human intellect. A knowledge of the nature of language explains everything, not only as possible, but as necessary. Human language, being what we found it to be, could not help itself. If it wished to name sun or moon, tree or river, it could only name them as 74 LECTURE III. agents, simply as agents, without ascribing as jet life or soul to them. Here, it seems to me, we often do great injustice to the ancients, when we translate their language literally, but after all not truly, into our own. Thus Epichar- mos, no mean philosopher, who lived in the fifth century B. c, is often quoted as having declared that the gods of the Greeks were the winds, water, the earth, the sun, fire, and the stars ^. The question is, were the winds and the water and the earth, the sun, firCj and the stars, to his mind mere things, dead material objects, or were they conceived, if not as mas- culine or feminine, at all events as active powers, pos- sibly as something like what the so-called positivist philosophers would accept even now, when they speak of act and agent being one. The transition from animate to man-like beings is much less violent, if we account for it not so much by the poetry, as by the poverty of language, which knew at first of no agents except human agents, and there- fore had often to use the same word for natural agents and human agents, without thereby committing the speaker to the startling assertion that the sun and moon, the tree and river were, in the true sense of the word, anthropomorphous, or man-like. Later religious and mythological fancy, particularly when assisted by sculpture and painting, achieved this also, but that stage of thought was reached slowly and gradually, and not by the sudden impulses of what is vaguely called Animism and Anthropomorphism. ^ Stobaeus, Florilegium, xci. 29 : 'O jAv 'Entxapfxos touj Oeovs dvai \eyei 'Ave'/xous, vScup, yjjv, rjXiov, irvp, darepa. RESULTS OF PHYSICAL RELIGION. 75 General Names of the Ag'ents in Nature. There was one more step that had to be explained, namely, how these different agents, in or behind nature, came to be classed together and called by names which we, very glibly, translate by gods. We saw how they came to be distinguished from merely human agents, as non-human, and super- human. And we also saw how from certain important features which all these superhuman agents shared in common, they were emphatically called deva, bright, vasu, brilliant, asura, breathing or living, and many other names. We saw how this word deva, meaning originally bright, was gradually divested of its purely physical meaning, and, instead of meaning brilliant agents, came to mean in the end great and good, or what we now mean by divine agents. The history of that one word deva in Sanskrit, and dens in Latin, disclosed, in fact, better than anything else, one of the most important channels of the historical evolution of the concept of deity, at least among our own Aryan ancestors. Hig'liest Generalisation or Monotheism. When that concept of deva had been realised, it was at first a generic concept. It applied, not to one power, but to many. Even when the human mind tried to combine the idea of supremacy and therefore of oneness with that of deity, this was done at first by predicating supremacy of single devas or gods only, each supreme in his own domain. After this stage in which we find a number of single gods, neither co- ordinate nor subordinate, there follows the next in 76 LECTURE III. whicli all the single gods were combined into a kind of organic whole, one god being supreme, the others subject to him, but to him only, and standing among themselves on a certain level of equality. After these two stages, which I called Henotheisni and Polytheism, follows in the end that of real Monotlieisin, a belief in one god, as excluding the very possibility of any other gods. We saw that this highest stage was not only reached by the most thoughtful and religious poets in Greece and Rome, but even by some of the Vedic poets in India. These stages in the development of the idea of the godhead are not therefore merely theoretical postu- lates. They are historical realities which we may watch in many religions, if only we are enabled to follow their history in literary documents. Nowhere, however, can this be done more effectually than in India, where some fortunate accident has preserved to us in the Vedic hymns relics of the henotheistic stage in wonderful completeness. Only we must not imagine, as some scholars seem to do, that the whole of the Veda belongs to the worship of single gods. On the contrary, and this is what renders the Veda so valuable, we see in it all the three stages together, the henotheistic, the polytheistic, and the monotheistic, representing the different levels of religious thought that had been reached at that early time by different classes of the same society. Tlie Biography of Agni representative only. But though the regular development of religious names and concepts can best be studied in ancient RESULTS OF PHYSICAL RELIGION. 1^7 India, every country and every sacred literature pre- sents us with more or less complete portions of the same intellectual evolution. Not only among Aryan and Semitic races, but among Negroes, Polynesians, and Ked Indians we find a belief in and a worship of the divine representatives of the principal phenomena of nature. If the Maruts or Storm-winds rose to the rank of supreme deities in India, the same process, as we saw, raised Hurakan, our hurricane, to the supreme rank among the gods among the Quiches in America, and left Odin or Wodan as supreme in the pantheon of the Teutonic nations. I placed before you a very complete analysis of the theogonic or god-pro- ducing process by which the Fire rose from the humblest beginnings to the rank of a supreme deity in India. I meant this one analysis to be repre- sentative only, and nothing could have been more remote from my mind than to imply that all religion took its beginning from fire-worship. Over and over again I pointed out that by the side of this one, and, no doubt, very important stream of religious develop- ment, there were many other streams and rivulets, all starting from the observation of natural phenomena, and all ending with the recognition of powers beyond nature, named by the names of these phenomena, and in the end by a recognition of one Power, of one God, the creator of Heaven and Earth. The God of the Sky. This may seem a long road, leading to a belief in gods and in God — but it was an inevitable road, and a road that it is even for us well to remember. The ancient philosophers never forgot it, and it would be 78 LECTURE III. difficult to sum up the results of Ph^^sical Religion, as treated in my last course of lectures, better than in the words of Maximus of Tyre : ' Let men know all that is divine, let them know it only ! But whether the Greeks be roused to a remembrance of God by the art of Phidias, or the Egyptians by the worship of animals, and others by a river, and others by fire, I do not care for all these differences. Let men only know, let them only love, let them only remember the Divine ^.' Principles of Comparative Mythology. Having traced this process through the fire and other elements, through storm -wind and thunder, through rivers and mountain-peaks, I thought I could have dispensed with going once more over what are, no doubt, the two most important theogonic processes of the Aryan nations, one leading to the worship of the god of the sky, the other to the worship of the god of the sun, though the two are not always kept distinct. I thought that after all that has been written on that subject, no one would call in question the fact that by the same theogonic process which we examined in full detail in the case of fire or Agni, the sun and the sky have been raised to the rank of Devas or deities in India, Greece, and Italy, and in many other countries. I could not imagine that it was possible to doubt any longer the identity of the names of Dyaus, Zeus, Jupiter, and Tyr''^. But it seems that ^ M.iximus Tyrius, Dissert, viii. 10. Et Sk "EWrjvas fxlv kneydpd TTpbs TTjv /xvrjfXTjv Tov 6eov -q ^eiSicv tcx''^, AiyviTTiovs 5e ^ irpus rd ^a;a TifiT), Kol TTOTapLus dWuvs, Kul TTvp dWovs, ov vf/xeau) TTJs diacpojvias' larojaav puvov, hpdrojaav jjluvov, pi'rjpoveveTccaav [xuvov. ^ See Science of Language, vol. ii. p. 537 seq. KESULTS OF PHYSICAL RELIGION". 70 there is nothing that cannot be doubted, if only there is a sufficient amount of ignorance. Because etymolo- gists have sometimes, or, if you like, have often been wrong, as astronomers have often been wrong, as chemists, geologists, and even anthropologists have often been wrong, therefore people seem to imagine that no etymology can ever be trustworthy, or, on the other hand, that any etymology is acceptable. They do not even know why one etymology is wrong, another right. They do not know where the seat of authority lies. They have no idea that there are phonetic rules which cannot be broken with impunity. So long as we recognise these phonetic rules, we may discuss certain etymologies and try to discover whether they are right or wrong. But if these rules are ignored or their authority questioned, all dis- cussion becomes simply useless. Brtsaya and Briseis. Let me give you an instance. When, many years ago, I found in the Veda the expression Br^sayasya sesha/i, the offspring of B?'isaya, and when that off- spring was said to have been conquered by the gods before they brought light to many (Rv. I. 93, 4 ; VI. 61, 3), I thought that we might possibly have here the same name which we know in Homer as Briseis, the offspring of Brises, who has likewise to be con- quered before victory could be brought to the Achaeans. But unfortunately I had neglected a very simple phonetic rule, that in Greek an original s between two vowels always disappears. I did not at all like to surrender my identification of Briseis Sind Br^sayasya sesha/i, but there was no help for it. All I could 80 LECTUKE TIT. say in defence was that Briseis might possibly stand for Barseis, but even this was only an excuse ; pho- netically the equation was simply wrong, and had therefore to be surrendered. Here is a weapon for all scoffers. Dyaus and Zeus. On the other hand, ask any student of Comparative Philology what is the right form which such a word as Dyaus in Sanskrit must assume, if it occurs at all in Greek, and the unanimous answer will be Zeus. No one doubts this, as little as we can doubt that the sun, if it rises at all, will rise in the east. No scholar ought to complain if men who are eloquent in the pulpit or amusing in the press, attack his conclusions or ridicule his facts. Only he should not be accused of want of coui-tesy if he does not reply when he is asked^ why Jove should not be taken as a corruption of Jehovah or Jahve, or why God should not be derived from good, or from Wodan and Odin, or from the Persian khoda, or from Sk. dyut, to shine. There are statements which it is simply im- possible to discuss, such as that Baga, the Persian name for god, is derived from the Zend root vakhs, our own ' to wax ; ' that the Persian Peri is found in our fairy; and lastly that Jupiter is really a contraction of i 0 Piter, i. e. 0 Father. Would any classical scholar take notice of an antagonist who Avrites, ' We now use the vocative Jove for the nominative, because it was the form used when Jupiter was invoked, e. g. Jove — 0 Jupiter ! ' But while such outbursts may safely be ignored, what shall we say, if an author like Dr. Lippert, RESULTS OF PHYSICAL RELIGIOX. 81 a man of considerable learning in his own subject, dares to write (p. 358) : ' Whatever may be the mean- ing of the uncertain name of Zeus, I believe that it will more probably have to be looked for somewhere near Spirit or Lord than near the fetish-name of the sky. We must remember that the prevalent explana- tion of Zeus rests entirely on the by no means safe conjecture that a primitive word div means something bright, and must therefore signify the sky.' That dyaus (fem.) means the sky in Sanskrit, every dictionary will prove. That Dyaus (masc.) was an ancient god of the sky, any dictionary of the Veda will prove. That Zeus in Greek corresponds regularly to Dyaus in Sanskrit, that dyaus must be traced back to a root ^dyu, and that dyu and div are interchangeable forms, any manual of Comparative Philology will prove. In spite of that, we are told that Zeus may after all be derived from fryr, to live, and may have been originally a name for spirit. I know that to many people a mere etymology may seem of little importance. But what is of immense importance in all scientific discussions is the spirit of truth. To make light of a fact that has been esta- blished, to ignore intentionally an argument which we cannot refute, to throw out guesses which we know we cannot prove, nay, which we do not even attempt to prove, is simply wi'ong, and poisons the air in which alone true science can breathe and live. No amount of downrio-ht blunderinpf does half the mischief which is caused by an assumption of supreme indifierence as to the truth of any statement, even of an etymology. And there are etymologies on the truth of which depend the most momentous issues. (3) G 82 LECTURE III. The Iiesson of Jupiter. If I were asked what I consider the most important discovery which has been made during the nineteenth century with respect to the ancient history of man- kind, I should say it was this simple etymological equation: Sanskrit DYAtrSH-PITARi = Greek ZET2 n ATEP 2 = Latin JUPITER ^ = Old Norse TtR. Think what this equation implies ! It implies not only that our own ancestors and the ancestors of Homer and Cicero spoke the same language as the people of India — this is a discovery which, however incredible it sounded at first, has long ceased to cause any sur- prise— but it implies and proves that they all had once the same faith, and worshipped for a time the same supreme deity under exactly the same name — a name which meant Heaven — Father. This lesson cannot be taught too often, for no one who has not fully learnt, marked, and inwardly digested it, can form a true idea of the light which it sheds on the ancient history of the Aryan race. Ancient history has become as completely changed by that one discovery as astronomy was by the Copernican heresy. And if we wish to realise to its fullest extent the unbroken continuity in the language, in the thoughts and words of the principal Aryan nations, let us look at the accents in the following list : ^ Rv. IV. 1, 10. - Zeu TTarep (Od. V. 7, etc.). ^ Diespiter, Dispiter. As to the corresponding German names, see Grimm, Teutonic Mythology, 1. p. 192. The Eddie name Tijr, gen. T^.s, corresponding to Sanskrit Dyaus, would be Tius in Gothic, Tiw in A. S., Zio in Old Hish-German. RESULTS OF PHYSICAL RELIGION. 83 Sanskrit. Greek. Latin. Norn. Dyaus Zeu? Ju-piter, or Jovis. Gm. Divas A(o; Jovis. Loc. Divi Ait Jovi. Ace. Divam Aia Jovem. Voc. Dyaus ZeC Jupiter. Here we see that at the time when the Greeks had become such thorough Greeks that they hardly knew of the existence of India, the people at Athens laid the accent in the oblique cases of Zeus on exactly the same syllable on which the Brahmans laid it at Benares, with this difference only, that the Brahmans knew the reason why, while the Athenians did not ^. A scholar who ventures on the sea of ancient history, and more particularly of ancient religion and mythology, without having this short equation con- stantly before his eyes, is as helpless as an ancient mariner without a compass : he may weather many a storm, but he must be wrecked in the end. But it is one thing to discover a truth, and quite another to make other people see that truth. Naturally, though perhaps unfortunately, the man who has dis- covered a truth, who sees it, knows it, and can no longer doubt it, is generally very indifferent as to whether other people can be made to see and to accept it. He knows it will conquer in the end, and he feels that he has more important work to do than to convert philological painim. Truth, he knows, is in no hurry. The Copernican theory was laughed at, it was anathematized^ it was refuted by the high- est authorities, but it lived on for all that ; and, what is more wonderful still, it is at present accepted as ^ Selected Essays, i. p. 220 ; Lectures on the Science of Language, ii. p. 468 seq. G 2 84 LECTUKE III. gospel b}^ millions, whereas the number of those who really understand it, and, if called upon, could defend it, might probably be counted by hundreds only. But for all that, one cannot help feeling sorry, nay, even angry, when one sees scholars who in their own particular sphere deserve our respect and may claim considerable authority, speak of an etymology like that of Zeus and Dyaus as something that may or may not be. Dr. Iiippert. It seems indeed as if his own conscience had smitten Dr. Lippert. After rejecting the only possible etymology of Zeus, and denying its connection with what he calls the sky-fetish — just imagine, if you can, what possible meaning can be conveyed by such a monstrosity as the compound sky-fetish — he seems to have remembered that, after all, sub cUvo in Latin means beneath the sky, and that if divum meant the sky, there might possibly have been some connection between divwni and dins, and Dyaus and Zeus, and Ju-jyiter. Let us see now how he quiets his qualms of conscience. ' Divus,' he writes (p. 422), ' is a con- cept of the widest extension, and so is diva. Whether this has any connection with the Greek 8tos-stem, does not concern us here. But no translation is so well adapted to all cases where it is used, as spirit^ in the sense of soul, separated from the body. The German word Geist becomes inapplicable only because it has not, like the Latin word, both substantival and adjectival meaning. Whether the word goes back to the same root dus, from which the Slaves have derived their words for spirit, may be left to etymolo- KESULTS OF PHYSICAL KELIGION. 85 gists to settle. (No etymologist would for one moment even listen to this.) Certain it is from its use that of all synonyms it expresses more especially the concept of spirit, so that it can be prefixed to others as an attributive general name. Thus Divus pater means the father who continues to live as a spirit, diva mater the mother-spirit ; and we also find divi famuli, and divi mianes. . . .' 'Latin does not distinguish in its usage between divus and dins, as if both were dialectic forms of the same meaning. Particularly, and this is impor- tant, the manes are as often called dii manes as divi manes. . . .' And again, p. 441 : ' The forms divi, dii, and dei do not enable us to establish an essential difference between them. Divus IDater and Biespitei' (Jupiter) are so clearly synony- mous that I cannot believe in any derivation of the former which would bring in the absolutely uncon- cerned sky. It would be extremely strange that beings dwelling on the earth or under the earth could directly or indirectly have been called divi, and in the words of Livy (i. 32), diique . . . teTrestres vosque inferni, there would be an unaccountable contradiction.' But after Dr. Lippert has thus far tried to persuade others, if not himself, that the root div, which means something bright, could never have yielded names for the bright sky, or for the bright god of the sky, his conscience awakes once more. There is that trouble- some expression sub divo, which means beneath the sky. And that expression, as he himself remarks, must have been in use before Cato's time. There is 86 LECTURE III. evidently a momentary struggle in Dr. Lippert's mind; but at last, with a supreme effort, he waves his own objection aside. ' There are too many wit- nesses against it,' he says ; ' and it probably arose at a time when Greek influence might have told on it.' If this is not mere forensic pleading, I do not know what is. If Dr. Lippert knows that sub divo means beneath the sky, he surely knows likewise that sub dio, sub diu, and sub Jove frigldo are used in the same sense. He knows that in Greek diij^etes means swollen by rain, lit. fallen from the sky, and that diosmiia are portents in the sky. As dyaus in Sanskrit means not only sky and the god of the sky, but is used in the sense of day also, he knows that the Cretans used hia for rjfxepa, and that dlum fulgur was lightning by day which came from Jupiter. In fact, if by this time there still could be any reason- able doubt on the correctness of the common orio^in of Dyaus, Zeus, and Jupiter, the comparative study of languages might as well be banished from our Universities, the comparative study of mythology should be ostracised, and the comparative study of religions should take its place behind astrology and palmistry. Instead of forming the glory of the nine- teenth century, these three sciences should be quoted in future, together with table-turning and spirit- rapping, as a disgrace to our generation. Protest ag-ainst Iievity. I am sorry that I should have had to use such strong language. I should gladly have remained silent, if it were a purely personal matter. I have KESULTS OF PHYSICAL EELIGION. 87 always held that it matters very little ivho is right, but that it matters very much what is right. There are many things in every branch of scientific research which are doubtful. There are many questions in the study of ancient language, mythology, and reli- gion which at present, and possibly for ever, must be left open questions. The exact spot, for instance, from whence the Aryan languages — I do not speak of Aryan people — started, cannot be determined with any ap- proach to certainty, unless we can gain posse^'IMi of new facts. To speak on such a point, as if ndj/diffi- culties existed, is unscholarly, and only shojv^ that those who rush in are ignorant of the dan^i§^ which they ought to dread. But there are other questions that have been solved once for all, and to re-open them again and again, without a single scrap of new evidence, is simply to impede the progress of know- ledge. Nothing has been produced to weaken a single link in the chain that unites the Dyaus of the Veda with the Zeus of Homer. To say that Zeus may be derived from (fjv, to live, is simply to say that which is not. And thus to trifle with an ety- mology is to trifle not only with what is true — that is bad enough — but with what is sacred^. For the history of the past is a sacred thing. The knowledge that God has not left Himself without a witness in India as well as anywhere else, is a sacred thing. The evidence that the Aryas, before they separated, had fixed on a name for god, and that a name, mean- ing the bright sky, is a sacred thing. In matters of such import true science has a right to say, Odi ^ See Appendix I. 88 LECTURE III. profanum vulgus et arceo. A scholar who cannot grow indignant when he sees serious questions turned into ridicule^ by mere trifling, does not deserve the name of a scholar, and to my mind the identity of these two divine names, Dyaus and Zeus, is with all its consequences as serious, as solemn, as sacred a matter as any article of our creed. * Appendix II. LECTURE IV. THE HISTORICAL PROOF OF THE EXISTENCE OF GOD. Securus Judicat Orbis Terrarum. WE have lately been told that what finally determined Newman to leave the English Church and to join the communion of Rome, was a short sentence of St. Augustine, Securus Judicat orhis terrarum. ' Cardinal Wiseman,' we are told ^ , ' had written an article on the Donatist Schism, with an application to the Church of England. Newman read it, and did not see much in it. But one of his friends called his attention to St. Augustine's phrase, Securus jucUcat orhis terrarum, quoted in the article. The friend repeated these words again and again, says Newman ; and when he was gone they kept running in my ears ..." For a mere sentence," he says, " the words of St. Augustine struck me with a power which I never had felt from any words before. To take a familiar instance, they were like the ' Turn again, Whittington,' of the chime ; or, to take a more serious one, they were like the ' Tolle, lege ; tolle, lege ' of the child, which converted St. Augustine himself." Securus judicat orhis terrarum, by those great ^ Contemporary Review, Jan. 1891, j). 141, Dean Church, by Canon Maccoll. 90 LECTURE IV. words of the ancient Father, interpreting and summing up the long and varied course of ecclesiastical history , the theory of the Via Media was absolutely pulverised.' If we think how small and insignificant was the orhis terramrti to which St. Augustine could appeal, and yet how powerful the effect which that appeal produced at the time, and produced even in our own time on such a mind as Newman's, we are surely justified in appealing to the orbls terraruvi in its widest sense, in support of the universal belief in God, whatever the images by which He was represented, whatever the names by which He was called ^. And yet people ask what can be gained by a comprehensive study of religions, by showing that, as yet. no race has been discovered without some word for what is not- visible, not-finite, not-human, for something super- human, and divine. It is curious that some theologians go even so far as to resent the discovery of the universality of such a belief. They are anxious to prove that human reason alone could never have arrived at a conception of God. They would much rather believe that God had left Himself without witness, than that a belief in something higher than the Finite could spring up in the human heart from gratitude to Him who gave us rain from heaven, and fruitful seasons, filling our hearts with food and gladness. At a recent Missionary Conference, held in London, it was gravely asserted by Dr. David Brown that the apostle Paul made a mistake at Athens, that he, when he appealed to the god whom the heathens ignorantly worship, meddled ^ To 5^ ^ap^apiKov, u/xoiojs {.lev anavres ^vuerol tov Oeov, KaTearTrjaavru be avTGis ar]fx€ia dWoi aAAa. Maxim. Tyr., Dissert., viii. 4. HISTORICAL PEOOF OF THE EXISTENCE OF GOD. 91 with philosophy, and therefore had few converts ^. And such irreverence is called Bible Christianity. Universality of a Belief in God does not prove its Truth, But there is another class of critics, far more difficult to deal with. Granted, they say, that a belief in gods, or even a belief in one Supreme God, can be discovered in every corner of the orhis terraruiin as known to us — how does that prove that such a belief is true, and that either these different gods or a supreme deity really exist ? In reply to the argument seciiTus judicat orhis terraruni, ' the judgment of the whole world is safe,' it has been pointed out that the same orhis terraruDi has been deceived again and again. We live in times of serious, nay, if you like, of honest atheism. People have not parted with their belief in the existence of a god^ without a hard, a heart-breaking struggle. They declare that the old proofs for the existence of a divine Being, the teleolo- gical, the ontological, and the cosmologiccd, have all failed them, and that a belief in revelation, without a previous belief in the existence of a divine Being, is impossible. Let me remark that even if we admitted the truth of these objections, we might still claim for the history of religions the same right to a place among our academic studies which is conceded to other historical studies. If at our schools and universities we teach the history of literature, of art, and of the various branches of physical science, surely the history of religion ought to form a recognised department in the teaching of every university. Knowledge has a value of its ^ Madras Christian College Magazine, Sept. 1889, p. 209. 92 LECTURE IV. own, even if it should not be of practical or marketable utility. Even if religion were nothing but hallucina- tion, as we have lately been told, an accurate know- ledge of the causes and the different phases of this universal disease might prove useful for its final cure. But I claim a great deal more for an historical study of the religions of the world. To my mind the historical proof of the existence of God, which is supplied to us by the history of the religions of the world, has never been refuted, and cannot be refuted. It forms the foundation of all the other proofs, call them cosmological, ontological, or teleological ; or rather, it absorbs them all, and makes them super- fluous. There are those who declare that they require no proof at all for the existence of a Supreme Being, or, if they did, that they would find it in revelation and nowhere else. Suppose they wanted no proof them- selves, would they really not care at all to know how the human race, and how they themselves, came in possession of what, I suppose, they value as their most precious inheritance 1 Do they really think that in this case an examination of the ancient title- deeds might safely be dispensed with, while with regard to much less precious holdings it is considered a plain duty to guard these documents with the greatest care ? An appeal to revelation is of no avail in deciding- questions of this kind, unless it is first explained what is really meant by revelation. The history of religions teaches us that the same appeal to a special revelation is made, not only by Christianity, but by the defenders of Brahmanism. of Zoroastrianism, and HISTORICAL PEOOF OF THE EXISTENCE OF GOD. 93 of Moliammedanism, and where is the tribunal to adjudicate on the conflicting appeals of these and other claimants? The believer in the Vedas is as thoroughly convinced of the superhuman origin of his ancient hymns, as the Zoroastrian of that of the Gathas, and the Mohammedan of that of the Surahs ; and the subtle arguments by which each, but more particularly the Brahman, supports his claims, would put some of our ablest casuists to shame. The followers of every one of these religions declare their belief in the revealed character of their own religion, never in that of any other religion. Many persons believe, and believe honestly, in visions they have had themselves, never in the visions claimed by other people. There is, no doubt, a revelation to which we may appeal in the court of our own conscience, but, before the court of universal appeal, we require different proofs for the faith that is in us. Let our antagonists bear in mind that in what I call Physical Religion, the subject of my lectures of last year, we have proved not only the universality of a belief in something beyond the finite, in something infinite, in something divine. Even that would be something, considering the repeated attempts that have been made by students of great learning and research to prove the contrary. We have proved more than that. We have proved that, given man, such as he is, and given the world, such as it is, a belief in divine beings, and, at last, in one Divine Being, is not only a universal, but an inevitable fact. Those who doubt the universality of the fact, have to take up the challenge, and produce their instances, or, at least one undoubted instance, of a really atheistic 94 LECTURE IV. race, I mean a race tliat not yet believes in superhuman beings. The case of people who no longer believe in gods is quite different, and has to be considered hy itself. What we have to consider at present is, how it follows that the universal belief in the Infinite, under all its various disguises, is true. Belief in God inevitable. True is a strong word for any human being to use. But suppose we could prove that universal dogma to be inevitable, would not that suffice ? Does it not suffice us, for all geometrical calculations, to know that, in this world at least, there are only three dimensions, that the straight line is always the shortest, and that two parallel lines can never meet ? Why then should it not suffice us to know that, in this world at least, the belief in a Supreme Being is inevitable for human beings, such as we are ? In former times it was the fashion to say that the gods and all that was to be believed about them had been invented by the priests, in order that they might be better able to control the passions of men, and to establish law and order on a firm basis. We saw, on the contrary, that the gods were believed in long before any priests were heard of, and that there was no extraneous motive whatever for that belief. Unless aU historical evidence deceived us, that belief arose everywhere naturally, irresistibly, and at fii'st, we might almost say, unconsciously. We may safely say therefore that, as far as historical evidence goes, man cannot escape from a belief in gods, whether many or one. Philosophy may go so far as to teach HISTORICAL PROOF OF THE EXISTENCE OF GOD. 95 that the senses, the understanding, the Avhole intellect of man are all a fraud ; but even philosophy will never teach us how to be anything but what we are, namely, human beings, and, in that sense, liable to human error. There may be truth beyond the reach of the human intellect, but that truth is not for us. Philosophy has taught us to distinguish between what is phenomenal and what is real, but it stands to reason that we can know the real as phenomenal only. Everything we know, by the very fact that ^ve know it, becomes phenomenal. To attempt to know what a thing is by itself, the JS^oiimenon, das Ding an sick, is to attempt to know a thing as we do not know it, and this is a contradiction in itself. Nothing can be real to us, unless it submits to be phenomenal ; nothing can be objective to us, except in the forms of our own subjective consciousness. It is strange that even philosophers should not see this, — at least some of them ; and that they should attempt what even the ancient metaphysicians called a most troublesome athletic performance, namely, to stand on their own shoulders, to see beyond their own horizon. Even physical science ought to have opened peo- ple's eyes. In music, for instance, we speak of tones, yet we know that by itself, that is, if not taken in by our ear, what we call A', the A' of our tuning-forks, consists really of 875 single vibrations in one second. If we speak of colours, we know that by itself, that is, if not taken in by our eye, what we call red is simply so many millions of vibrations of ether in one second. I use these, of course, as illustrations only, for even the number of these vibrations is phenomenal, or based on phenomenal experience. 96 LECTURE IV. But as illustrations they might teach us that what- ever we perceive we must perceive by our senses, whatever we know we must know by our oiun mind, and call by our oimi language, that all our knowledge in fact must be phenomenal or relative, must be hu- man knowledge. All therefore that the historical student of religion maintains that he has proved is that man, being what he is, and simply using the instruments of knowledge which he possesses, cannot escape from a belief in an infinite Being, whatever forms it may assume in the historical development of the human race. If then, from the standpoint of human reason, no flaw can be pointed out in that intellectual process which led to the admission of something within, behind, or beyond nature, call it the Infinite or any other name you like, it follows that the history of that process is really at the same time the best proof of the legitimacy and truth of the conclusions to which it has led. History of the Belief in gfods and God. And here it is where our historical studies, which to some appear so far removed from the burning interests of the hour, touch the springs of our deep- est religious convictions. Our own belief in God as the author of all that exists, whether we call Him father or creator or supporter of the world, has its deepest, its only living roots in that ancient, univer- sal stratum of thought which postulated an agent in the sky, the sun, the fire, and the storm-wind ; which was not satisfied with the mere play of appearances in nature, but yearned to know what it was that appeared ; which felt the limits of the finite in all its HISTORICAL PROOF OF THE EXISTENCE OF GOD. 97 sensuous perceptions, and in feeling the limits, felt at the same time the presence of something that was beyond those limits. This dissatisfaction with the finite, this struggle after the non-finite, this search for an agent for every act, of a mover for every move- ment, whatever shape it took, whatever name it claimed, forms the primitive and indestructible foun- dation of man's faith in God. If it is taken away, people may indeed have dogma and creeds, but they cannot have their own ineradicable conviction that there is and that there must be a God. Dogma can supply no argument against atheism. Dogma is what my excellent colleague at Edinburgh, Mr. Hutchinson Stirling (p. 12), has very truly called mere Vorstellung, which requires for its philosophical foundation the Begriff. But that Begviff has a history, and it is this history of the Begriff v^hiah. to my mind is the true, because unanswerable, answer to all atheism. I should go so far as to say that the history of religion is the best proof of religion, just as the growth of the oak-tree is the best proof of the oak-tree. There may be excrescences, there may be dead leaves, there may be broken branches, but the oak-tree is there, once for all, whether in the sacred groves of Germany, or at Dodona, or in the Himalayan forests. It is there, not by our own will, but by itself, or by a Higher Will. There may be corruptions, there may be antiquated formulas, there may be sacred writings flung to the wind, but religion is there, once for all, in all its various representations. You can as little sweep away the oak-tree with its millions of seeds from the face of the earth, as you can eradicate religion, true religion, from the human heart. (3) H 98 LECTURE IV. Are all Relig-ions True? But it may be objected that, if everything at which man by his unassisted intellect arrives were true, then all religions would be true, and, as many of them con- tradict either themselves or one another, this cannot be. This is the very objection which nothing, I believe, can meet and repel except an appeal to history. History teaches us how all the predicates which were bestowed by man on the Transcendent, or what was beyond the finite, or what I call the Infinite, proved insufficient. One after another they were chosen as the best that the human mind possessed, but one after another they were rejected as inadequate for their highest purpose. You remember how the Peruvian Inca, who had all his life looked upon the Sun as the true manifestation of the Divine, as the maker and ruler of the world, nay, as his father, and the father of his own royal race, was suddenly disturbed in his mind because the sun seemed to rise and set, to come and go, not of his own free will, but at the command of some one else. Hence he decided that the Sun could not be the true God, and that that name, however sacred, must be surrendered and replaced by another, a better, a higher name. But though he rejected the predicate, he did not reject the subject ; on the contrary, the rejec- tion of that predicate served only to raise the subject for which it had been intended, to a higher level. Let us suppose that the same thoughtful Inca, after renouncing the name of Sun, had only retained the name of Father for that which he was searchino^ for. That name might have satisfied him for a time. But HISTORICAL PROOF OF THE EXISTENCE OF GOD. 99 in moments of more serious reflection the same difli- culties would have returned. Father could not have remained for a long time a satisfactory predicate of the godhead; for is not every father the son of another father? Is not a father dependent on a mother ? Is not the son of the same substance as the father ? and if the son is mortal, is not the father mortal also? All these and many more objections might have troubled our conscientious Inca, and might have led him after a time to discard the predi- cate father, as he had discarded before the predicate sun. And if he had carried his speculations further, he would probably in the end have arrived at the conclusion at which the worshipper of the Vedic deities arrived, that there is no predicate in human language worthy of God, and that all we can say of Him is Avhat, as you may remember, the Upanishads said of Him, No, no ! The G-radual Elimination of what is imperfect. What does that mean? It meant that if God is called all-powerful, we have to say No, because what- ever we comprehend by powerful is nothing compared with the power of God. If God is called all-wise, we have again to say No, because what we call wisdom cannot approach the wisdom of God. If God is called holy, again we have to say No, for what can our con- ception of holiness be, compared with the holiness of God ! This is what the thinkers of the Upanishads meant when they said that all we can say of God is No, no. Negative Definition in Greek Philosophy. Nor were the philosophers of Greece behind the philosophers of India in denying the possibility of H2 100 LECTURE IV. naming or predicating anything rightly of the Deity. We know the protests of Xenophon, of Plato, and of Aristotle against all attempts of applying human names and concepts to the Supreme Being. But even in later times, in the second century a.d., we find philosophers, such as Maximus Tyrius, for instance, still repeating the same protest. ' God,' he writes (Dissert, viii. 10), ' the father and maker of all things, who is older than the sun, older than the sky, who is beyond time and age and all changing nature, is with- out a name given Him by legislators, inexpressible by language, invisible to the eyes. And as we cannot grasp His essence, we try to approach Him through words, names, pictures, images of gold, ivory, and silver, through plants, rivers, mountains, and lakes, yearning to know Him, but from our weakness pre- dicating all that we know as most beautiful of His nature ^.' In all this we can still clearly perceive the spirit of Plato. In fact, Maximus Tyrius quotes Plato in his seventeenth Dissertation, when he says : ' Thus this messenger from the Academy places before us the father and creator of the universe. He does not tell his name, for he knew it not ; he does not tell his colour, for he saw it not ; he does not tell his size, for he touched it not. These natural qualities are the perceptions of the flesh and the eyes, but the Divine itself is not seen by the eyes, nor spoken by the voice, nor touched by the flesh, nor heard by the ear. Only by what is most beautiful, most pure, most clear- sighted, most swift, and most ancient in the soul is it seen through likeness, and heard through kinship, ^ See Hatch, Hibbert Lectures, p. 242. HTSTOKICAL PROOF OF TPIE EXISTENCE OF GOD. 101 taken in whole and complete by complete per- ception.' Negative Definition in Christian Theology. The early Christians also, many of whom, as the late Dr. Hatch has clearly shown in his Hibbert Lectm-es, were Greek rather than Jewish, who had been brought up in the schools of Plato and Aristotle, and were perfectly familiar with the metaphysical terminology of these powerful thinkers, spoke of the Deity in the same abstract language, in the same negative terms. To them God was no longer simply Jehovah, the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, the God who walked in the garden of Eden in the cool of the day, not even the God who maketh the clouds His chariot, who walketh upon the wings of the wind. 'Listen, my friend,' writes Theophilus, when asked by a heathen opponent to describe the form of the Christian God : ' the form of God is unutterable and indescribable^ nor can it be seen with fleshly eyes: for His glory is uncontained. His size is incompre- hensible, His loftiness is inconceivable. His strength is incomparable, His wisdom is unrivalled. His good- ness beyond imitation, His beneficence beyond de- scription. If I speak of Him as light, I mention His handiwork : if I speak of Him as reason, I mention His government : if I speak of Him as spirit, I mention His breath : if I speak of Him as wisdom, I mention His offspring: if I speak of Him as strength, I mention His might : if I speak of Him as providence, I mention His goodness : if I speak of His Kingdom, I mention His glory ' (Hatch, 1. c, p. 253). Clement of Alexandria (Strom, v. 12) asserts 102 LECTURE IV. still more strongly that there is no name that can properly be named of Him, — 'neither the One, nor the Good, nor Mind, nor Absolute Being, nor Father, nor Creator, nor Lord' (Hatch, I.e., p. 255). True Agnosticism. Would not many of these early Christians be con- demned for such utterances as Agnostics by our modern theologians — at least by some of them ? And yet. it was not pride of intellect, it was, on the con- trary, intellectual humility that made them silent before the majesty of an infinite Being. True Agnosticism, so far from being a negation of all true religion, seems to me the only safe foundation of it. How can we be said to know what we cannot name, and who is there that would maintain that God can be named ? Let us hear what Philo says on this point : ' God is invisible,' he writes, ' for how can eyes that are too weak to gaze upon the sun be strong enough to gaze upon its Maker "? He is incomprehensible ; not even the whole universe, much less the human mind, can contain the conception of Him. We know that He is, we cannot know what He is. We may see the manifestation of Him in His works, but it were monstrous folly to go behind His works and inquire into His essence. Hence He is unnamed, for names are the symbols of created things, whereas His only attribute is to be ^.' And if Philo is not considered as an authority, perhaps Cardinal Newman may be with some at least ^ Hatch, Hibbert Lectures, p. 245. HISTOEICAL PROOF OF THE EXISTENCE OF GOD. 103 of my hearers. Yet he expresses exactly the same conviction when he says : ' God is incommunicable in all His attributes.' If people would only define what they mean by knowing, they would shrink from the very idea that God could ever be known by us in the same sense in which everything else is known, or that with regard to Him we could ever be anything but Agnostics. All human knowledge begins with the senses, and goes on from sensations to percepts, from percepts to concepts and names. And yet the same people who insist that they know God, will declare in the same breath that no one can see God and live, and that no flesh that hath heard the voice of the living God speaking out of the midst of fire, can live (Deuter. v. 26). Let us only define the meaning of knowing, and keep the different senses in which this word has been used carefully apart, and I doubt whether any one would venture to say that, in the true sense of the word, he is not an Agnostic as regards the true nature of God. If any one doubts, let him read the almost-forgotten works of Cusanus, particularly his JDocta Ignorantia, and let him remember that before the Reformation such true Agnosticism was not only tolerated, but that Cusanus who held it and taught it died as a Cardinal and as a friend of Pope Nicolaus V. This silence before a nameless Being does not ex- clude a true belief in God, nor devotion, nor love of a Being beyond our senses, beyond our understanding, beyond our reason, and therefore beyond all names. All Names well meant. On the contrary, every one of the names given to 104 LECTUKE IV. this infinite Being by finite beings marks a stage in the evolution of religious truth. If only we try to understand these names, we shall find that they were all well meant, that, for the time being, they were probably the only possible names. Dyaus, Zeus, whether it was meant for light or for sky, was originally a well-meant name. It did not mean at first the material sky only, as an object, but it meant, as we saw, the agent postulated behind or within the sky, what Plato meant by the soul of the sky. If the agent or the sky was often mistaken for the sky itself, and many things that could be truly predicated of the material sky only were predicated of Dyaus or Zeus or Jupiter, history teaches us how this confusion arose, and thus warns us against similar errors. In China also the name of the supreme deity is Tien or sky. And not only Chinese scholars in Europe, but scholars in China also have been disputing for centuries whether what is meant by Tien is the real sky or the Supreme Being, supposed to be residing in the sky, or invoked by the name of the sky. We ourselves should never be in doubt, if we heard any one say, ' Heaven knows.' We should know at once that he did not mean the visible heaven, but much the same as if he were to sa}^ ' God knows.' When the prodigal son says, ' I have sinned against Heaven and in Thy sight,' we know that against Heaven means against God. But most missionaries will assure us that, when the Chinese address their prayers to Tien, when they say, 'Tien knows,' when they say, 'I have sinned before Tien,' they mean the blue sky and nothing else. It is quite possible that thousands of uneducated HISTORICAL PROOF OF THE EXISTENCE OP GOD. 105 Chinese would give the same answer. But when the once famous Commissioner Yeh was asked to give an account of what an educated Chinese meant by Tien, he said that Tien meant, no doubt, the material heaven, but that it also meant Shang-te, the supreme ruler or God. It is not lawful, he added, to use the name of Shang-te lightly, and therefore we name him by his residence, which is tien^. Let it be clearly understood, therefore, that the Historical School does not look upon all the names that were given to divine powers as simply true or simply false. We look upon all of them as well meant and true for the time being, as steps on the ladder on which the angels of God ascend and de- scend. There was no harm in the ancient people, when they were thirsting for rain, invoking the sky and saying, ' O dear sky, send us rain.' There was no harm when they saw their stable struck by lightning, in their imploring the thunderer to spare their home and their children. There was no harm when they were dying of cold, in their greeting the rising sun as a dear friend and protector. And when after a time they used more and more general words, when they addressed these powers as bright, or rich, or mighty, as kings and lords, as friends and fathers, all these were meant for something else, for something they were seeking for, if haply they might feel after Him and find Him. This is St. Paul's view of the growth of religion, this is the view defended and supported by new evidence by the Historical School, — and this is the view condemned as heretical and blasphemous by men who call themselves Christian Divines. ^ See Hilderic Friend, in Folk Lore Record, vol. iv. p. 6. 106 LECTURE IV. Names of the Infinite. When I said that all these names had been from the beginning names of the Infinite, I hardly expected that I could have been so far misunderstood as if I supposed that the name and concept of the Infinite had been fully elaborated, before it was called Sky and Earth, Sun and Moon, Day and Night, Lord, Maker, Ruler, Friend, and Father. I have actually been told, as something I ought to have known, that when the prehistoric Semite built altars to and called on the name of Shaddai, Jehovah, or Baal, the object of his worship was not at first conceived as Infinite, but as very local and limited and finite indeed. The Himalayan mountain range has different names in different dialects and in different parts of its long extent. We who know its unbroken continuity from east to west, speak of the whole as the Hima- layan range; but the inhabitants of every small valley, by whatever name they call their own hills, mean likewise the Himalayan range, though they have as yet no name for it. It is in that sense that the people who spoke of their own gods as Zeus, or Apollo, or Athene, meant the Infinite that was behind or in these names, though as yet the}^ had no name for it. When I speak of the Infinite, I simply use the widest generalisation within my reach, wider even than what is comprehended by the name of the Un- knowable. To suppose that such generalisations had been realised in the minds of the earliest observers of thunder and lightning, would be to invert the whole historical growth of the human mind. But as soon as an altar was built to Shaddai, as the giver of HISTORICAL PROOF OF THE EXISTENCE OF GOD. 107 rain, as soon as such a name was formed, something more was meant than the visible cloud or the finite sky, something which by the most general term I shall continue to call the Non-Finite and the Infinite. There are indeed misapprehensions against which it is almost degrading to defend oneself. I Am tliat I Am. When we find in the old Testament such names as Elohim, Adonai, Jehovah or Jah, we never doubt that they were all meant for the same Being. But when, as we are told in the book of Exodus, iii. 14, Moses asked the God of his fathers what was His true name, is it not wonderful that that name contains no pre- dicate whatever, ' no manner of similitude,' but is simply, ' I Am that I Am ' ? To a student of the history of religion such unex- pected rsiys of light are quite dazzling. I call them unexpected, because the language in which Jehovah is spoken of in the Old Testament is often, as you know, not very different from the language applied to the deity in other ancient religions. It is human language, full of metaphor ; it is, what is called, anthropomorphic ; and what else could it be ? It is true that in India also we meet with the same or a very similar name. We read in one of the Upanishads ^, ' He, looking round, saw nothing but himself. He first said : " This is I ; " and therefore he became " I " by name.' But in India we can see how the way was slowly ^ B?-ihad-ara?iyaka Upanishad, I. 4, 1, Sacred Books of the East, vol. XV. p. 85. 108 LECTURE IV. prepared for so abstract, so unmetaphorical, and in no sense 'anthropomorphic a name as ' I am I.' We can see there a class of philosophic theologians, working hard to free their thoughts from the inevitable leading-strings of language. But among the Jews at the time of Moses (placing ourselves on the ordinary- standpoint of readers of the Old Testament), so sudden a burst of the purest light, so transcendent a name of the deity, as ' I am,^ comes upon us indeed like a revelation, in the truest sense of the word. And what is more marvellous still, we find joined with this, the most abstract conception of the deity, that truly human feeling for God which is expressed in such words as : ' Hear, O Israel : the Lord our God is one Lord: And thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thine heart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy might' (Deuter. vi. 4). I doubt whether we can find anything like this anywhere else. When God has once been conceived without 'any manner of similitude,' He may be meditated on, revered, and adored, but that fervent passion of the human breast, that love with all our heart, and all our soul, and all our might, seems to become hushed before that solemn presence. We may love our father and mother with all our heart, we may cling to our children with all our soul, we may be devoted to our wives and hus- bands and friends with all our might, but to throw all these feelings in their concentrated force and truth on the deity, has been given to very few elect souls only, the true Saints of the world. Others must rest con- tent with the hope that true love shown to any human being, to father and mother, to husband and wife, to sons and daughters, aye to the stranger also, if there HISTORICAL PEOOF OF THE EXISTENCE OF GOD. 109 is a stranger, may take the place of that love of God which Moses demanded, and that ' what ye have done unto one of the least of these My brethren, ye have done it unto Me ' (Matth. xxv. 40). The Three Vedanta Predicates. But while in some places the ancient philosophers of India would go so far as to protest against all predicates of the deity, even against that of existence, lest it might be mistaken as identical with the tran- sient existence of human or any other beings, we find that even in the Vedanta philosophy, these Indian metaphysicians condescended to recognise a some- what more human view of the Supreme Being, and allowed at least three predicates. They were to he, to knoiu, and to rejoice, or, possibly, to love, and I doubt whether the most rigid metaphysician could rightly object to any one of them. When in the historical process of name-giving and name-removing, the Infinite has been freed again of all names that proved inadequate, no philosophy, and no religion need give up these three predicates. What is meant by the Infinite, or the Unknown, or the Divine^ for all these names have the same intention, must be allowed to be, must be allowed to knoiu, and must be allowed to rejoice, or, as others will have it, to love, to be blessed in itself, to be satisfied. The opposite of these three propositions is unthinkable, and this must suffice for us, as long as we are what we are. We cannot conceive the Infinite, or the Unknown, or the Divine, and conceive it as not being. This is the purely human side of the ontological argument. Nor 110 LECTURE lY. can we conceive it as not-knowing, however different its knowledge may be from human knowledge. Esse with the Infinite, is in reality ^jerci/^^, and who should be the percipient, if not the Infinite itself? We may be more doubtful about the third predicate, that of bliss or love, because it seems to have too much of a human character, too much of a iraOos^ about it. But again the absence of bliss, satisfaction, and love would be a defect, I mean from a human point of view. It is well known that even the Epicureans who predicated so little of their gods, predicated of them perfect blessedness. ' Eternal existence and perfect happiness are, according to Epicurus, the two funda- mental elements which, in all ages and nations, con- stitute the true idea of godhead — an idea which is as widespread as the human race \' We may therefore grant the Hindu triad of divine predicates, and say, if there is an Infinite, an undefin- able and unnameable Being, if there is an Agent behind all acts, we cannot deny its perfect bliss, its perfect knowledge, and its everlasting existence. Masculine or Neuter. You may have observed how difficult it is when speaking of that infinite Being, to know whether we ought to speak of it as He or It. With us that distinction always implies something human. He implies masculine gender and excludes feminine gender, and from either point of view it is inap- plicable to God, while It, implying neither, seems preferable. But on the other hand He implies agency, ' W. Wallace, Epicureanism, p. 207. HISTOKICAL PEOOF OF THE EXISTENCE OF GOD. Ill activity, not to say life, while It implies mere objec- tivity, passivity, not to say lifelessness. In languages which distinguish no gender this difficulty does not exist. In languages again which distinguish two classes only, one of animate, the other of inanimate beings, the choice is much easier. But being what we are, speaking an Aryan language and thinking Aryan thoughts, there can be no doubt that we must speak of the Infinite as He, though with cer- tain reservations, and not as either She or It. Here then is the last point at which we arrive by a continuous progress from the lowest perception of the unknown Infinite, to the highest expression that poor human nature can find for it. The predicates become wider and wider, purer and purer, truer, we hope, and truer, and yet their subject is always beyond their reach. The last result of Physical Religion will always remain, that there is something within or behind the finite world which, by a most compre- hensive, but from one point of view, no doubt, by a very empty name, we may call the Infinite. But the history of religion, and a knowledge of our own human nature, teaches us likewise that so vague and so cold a name ceases to be religious, and cannot satisfy the deepest yearnings of the human heart. neturn to the Old Names. In times of trouble and despair, and in moments of intensest happiness too, the heart falls back on the old names, and utters once more the language of the childhood of the world and of its own childhood. It does not call for help on the Infinite, but though 112 LECTURE IV. feeling the overwhelming presence of the Infinite, it says Lord, it says my God, it says Our Father. And what harm is there ? If we have understood the lessons of the history of religion, we know that all these names, and even much less perfect names, w^ere well meant, were all meant for the same, and that He who is beyond all names, understands them all. I have often quoted the words placed in the mouth of K^'ishTia, ' Even those who worship idols, worship me.' Whatever we do, however pure and abstract our language may be, in one sense we are all idolators, we idolise the deity in the imperfect ideas which we have formed of it, and under the ever-varying names which we have given to it. The Minimiim. What, however, we may say with a good conscience, both as philosophers and as historians, is this, that how high so ever above all our ideas, and all our names and concepts, the Infinite may be, that Infinite is at least the source of light that beams from heaven, it is at least the giver of the fire that warms and cheers us, it is at least in the storm-wind, it is at least the Lord, it is at least the Father, whatever else He may be. We still use the name of Jehovah, though we know how many things have been predicated of Jehovah which are incompatible with our reverence for the Deity. We shrink from using the names of Zeus and Jupiter, but the early Christians had no such fears. Thus Tertullian (ad Scap. 4) speaks of 'the people shouting to the God of gods who alone is powerful, as bearing witness to our God by the name of Jupiter,' while in another passage he actually HISTORICAL PROOF OF THE EXISTENCE OF GOD. 113 appeals to 'Jovem Christianum.' Dante also still uses Giove in the sense of God, when he says (Purg. vi. 118): ' O sommo Giove, che foste in terra per noi cruci- fisso.' And Petrarca does not hesitate to say (Son. 133) : ' Se I'eterno Giove della sua grazia sovra me non piovi.' Nor are we ourselves afraid to speak of God as the Deus Ojytimus Maximus, though the word deiis also is of heathen workmanship, and was meant originally for the bright powers of the sky, the sun, the moon, the dawn, and the spring ; though miaximus meant probably no more, at first, than the greatest among such gods as Mars, Janus, Quirinus, and Bellona (Liv. viii. 6, 9; 10 ; x. 28 ; 29), while optimus conveyed at first the idea of the richest rather than of the best. I could hardly have believed it, if I had not seen it black on white, that there are some classical scholars left who seem to look upon Jupiter as a real person, and who have asked me whether I really mean that Jupiter is the same individual as the God of the Jews and the Christians. What meaning can they connect with such words ? Do they really imagine that Jupiter was some kind of potentate who lived on Mount Olympus, and, then, after changing his name and clothing, emigrated to Mount Zion ? If they do not mean that, what do they mean *? The Names and what is named. Surely, if the study of the history of religion has taught us anything, it has taught us to distinguish between the names and what is named. The names (3) t . I 114 LECTURE TV. may change, they may become more and more perfect, and as they become more perfect, our concepts of the deity may become more perfect also, but the deity itself is not affected by our names. However much the names may differ and change, there remains as the last result of the study of religion, the everlasting conviction that behind all the names there is a some- thing named, that there is an agent behind all acts, that there is an Infinite behind the Finite, that there is a God in Nature. That God is the abiding goal of many names, all well meant and well aimed, and yet all, far, far away from the goal which no man can see — and live. Convince the human understanding that there can be acts without agents, that there can be a limit without something beyond, that there can be a Finite without a Non-Finite, and you have proved that there is no God. But let it be shown that the universality of that belief rests on that without which sense would not be sense, reason would not be reason, man would not be man, and we may say that for man as he is, for reason as it is, nay, even for the perceptions of the senses as they are, belief in something infinite, in an agent, in a God, is irresistible. All names that human language has in- vented may be imperfect. But the name, ' I Am that I Am,' will remain for those who think Semitic thought, while to those who speak Aryan languages it will be difficult to invent a better name than that of the Vedanta, SaA;-^id-ananda, He who is, who knows, and who is blessed. LECTURE V. ABOUT THE TEUE CHARACTER OF ANCESTOR-WORSHIP. The Name of Authropologrical Relig-ion. IT was not easy to find a satisfactory name for that branch of Natural Religion of which I mean to treat in this course of Lectures. The discovery of the Infinite in nature, traced from its first poor begin- nings to its culminating point, the belief in One God, as manifested in the whole of nature, could be called by one name only, namely Physical Religion. By a proper definition, this Physical Religion might easily be kept distinct from Natural Religion, of which it forms one branch. But what name is there for the second branch of Natural Religion, which is to comprehend the history of the various attempts at discovering some- thing infinite and divine in man or mankind, begin- ning with the first surmises of the existence of some- thing different from the body, and culminating in a belief in the divine sonship of man, the true key-note of the religion of Christ '? Perhaps the proper title would have been Antkropic Religion. But I shrink from forming new words, if it can be avoided. And, as for the third branch of Natural Religion, which deals I 2 116 LECTURE V. with the true nature of the soul or the self, the niost intelligible name seemed to be Psychological Religion, I determined to use Anthropological for the second branch, only guarding against the supposition that Anthropological Religion is in any way more closely connected with what is now called Anthropology, the Science of Man and Civilisation, as Dr. Tylor defines it, than the other branches of Natural Religion. It may be true that the languages of uncivilised races throw more light on the problems of Anthropological Religion than on those of Physical and Psychological Religion ; and it is for that reason that we shall have to examine the true value of this kind of testimony more care- fully now than we were called upon to do when tracing the development of the universal belief in the gods of nature. But otherwise Anthropological Religion has nothing to do with Anthropology. It is called anthropological, simply and solely in order to comprehend under that name all the attempts which have been made to discover something not merely human, then superhuman, then divine and immortal in man. The most interesting parts of this process are the beginning and the end, the first discovery of something different from the body, and the final identification of that somethinor with the Divine. To these two parts we shall have to devote most of our attention, leaving the intermediate steps, which are better known, to the historian of religion and of philosophy. Former Opinions on the Sources of Religion. It is unfortunate that in tracing this second deve- lopment of religious thought, the antlivopological, we TKUE CHARACTER OF ANCESTOR-WORSHIP. 117 shall have to defend almost every step we take, against certain philosophers who have traversed the same ground, but who have done so without an accurate knowledge of the facts that have to be interpreted, and, what is still worse, with certain preconceived ideas of their own, which they have applied to the interpretation of these facts^ — I mean, more parti- cularly, Comte in France, Mr. Herbert Spencer in England, and Lippert, Gruppe, and several other scholars in Germany. The fatal mistake which, according to my opinion, vitiates all their researches is their not seeing, or not being willing to see, that religion has had many sources, and that any attempt to trace all phases of religion back to one source must lead to the most forced and unnatural theories. If anything is all-embracing, it is what we call religion. We might as well derive the ocean from one river as religion from one source. Fetishism. The theory first broached by De Brosses, and after- wards adopted by Comte, that all religion arose from Fetishism^ need not be slain again. It broke down, because it tried to make one small and very late tributary the main source of all religion. De Brosses himself, however, still kept within certain bounds ^. He claimed for fetishism a share in the early growth of religious ideas ; he did not make it the only source of all religion. It was Bastholm who, in his famous work on Anthropology, published ^ Bastholm, Historische Nachrichten sur Kenntniss der Menschen, aus dem Danischen iibersetzt von H. E. Wolf, Altona, xi. 1818, vol. iv. p. 168. 118 LECTUBE V. in 1805, claimed 'everything produced by nature or art, which receives divine honour, including sun, moon, earth, air, fire, water, mountains, rivers, trees, stones, images, and animals, if considered as objects of divine worship, as fetish.' Of late another step has been made, and Lippert^ now defines fetishism ' as a belief in the souls of the departed coming to dwell in anything that is tangible or visible in heaven or earth.' But while anthropologists mostly contented them- selves with collecting facts, more or less carefully observed and comprehended under the ill-defined name of fetishism, Comte went further still, and claimed fetishism as a necessary plan in the universal growth of religion. This of course was a mere theory, un- supported by facts, and called by a misleading name. But it took a long time before that theory was com- pletely annihilated. The ease with which it explained everything, recommended it to many who dislike the trouble of vigorous thought. If it was asked why people worshipped the sun, the answer was always ready, because they took the sun for a fetish. The same answer was supposed to account for tree-worship, serpent-worship, idol-worship, stone- and shell-wor- ship, in fact for everything. I do not mean to say that the ghost of fetishism has been entirely laid, but it only haunts deserted places now. Mr. Herbert Spencer himself has formally surrendered that theory, and has set an excellent example in doing this. How much rubbish that now stops the way of further advance might be removed, if all who have dis- ^ Die Religionen der Europaischen Culiurvdlker, 1881, p. 10. TRUE CHARACTER OF ANCESTOR-WORSHIP. 119 covered a theory which they once held, to be untenable, would follow his excellent example, and say so openly. This is what Mr. Spencer writes in his Principles of Sociology (IH77), ^.343: ' How untenable is the idea that fetishism comes first among superstitions will now be manifest. Suppose the facts reversed. Suppose that by Juangs, Andamanese, Fuegians, Australians, Tasmanians, and Bushmen, wor- ship of inanimate objects was carried to the greatest extent ; that among tribes a little advanced in intelli- gence and social state it was somewhat restricted ; that it went on decreasing as knowledge and civilisation increased ; and that in highly-developed societies, such as those of ancient Peru and modern India, it became inconspicuous. Should we not say that the statement was conclusively proved? Clearly, then, as the facts happen to be exactly the opposite, the statement is conclusively disproved.' Mr. Herbert Spencer explains very truly how this extraordinary superstition — I do not mean fetishism, but a belief in fetishism as a primordial religion — arose (p. 344) : ' Made/ he writes, ' on the strength of evidence furnished by early travellers, whose contact was chiefly with races partially advanced and even semi- civilised, the assertion that fetishism is primordial gained possession of men^s minds ; and prepossession being nine points of belief, it has held its ground with scarcely a question. I had myself accepted it ; though, as I remember, with some vague dissatisfac- tion, probably arising from inability to see how so strange an interpretation arose. This vague dissatis- faction passed into scepticism on becoming better ]20 LECTURE V. acquainted with the ideas of savages. Tabulated evidence presented by the lowest races, changed scep- ticism into disbelief ; and thought has made it mani- fest that the statement, disproved a posteriori, is contrary to a priori probability.' It was indeed high time that this spurious fetishism should have been exterminated, for it had almost been introduced into the very country from which it had at first been carried away by those Portuguese sailors whom De Brosses followed as his authorities. Lander, as quoted by Mr. Spencer (Sociology, p. 134), when narrating his voyage down the Niger, says : ' From time to time, as we came to a turn in the creek, the captain of the canoe — a Negro, I suppose — halloed to the fetish, and where an echo was returned, half a glass of rum and a piece of yam and fish were thrown into the water. When asked why, he said — " Did you not hear the fetish ? " ' It must be clear that^ whatever the facts of the case may have been, the form in which it is told is simply impossible. First of all, the fetishes of De Brosses were never supposed to speak through the echo. Secondly, the name fetish, assigned by Portuguese priests to the Negro amulets and talismans, is of course utterly unknown to the natives themselves. To ask a Negro, as has often been done, whether he believes in a fetish, is much the same as to ask him whether he believes in Satan or the Devil. How is he to know what we mean by Satan or the Devil ?^ ' It is curious, however, that in conversation with Europeans, some African tribes actually use now the word fetish. W. J, Miiller, in his Die Africanische Landschaft Fetu, Nuremberg, 1675, says : ' When they talk to whites, they call their idolatry Fitiseken, I believe because the Portuguese call Zauberelfitiso.' TRUE CHARACTER OF ANCESTOR-WORSHIP. 121 We mio^ht as well ask him whether he believes in Con- stitutional Government or in the Law of Gravitation. Fetishism, however, need not be banished altogether from the history of religious thought. On the con- trary, it has its place, as I tried to show in my Hibbert Lectures, as a very late phase of superstition, during which, with or without reason, some peculiar charm is ascribed to the most casual objects. Our peasants still believe in the efficacy of a horse-shoe, and many of us, I suspect, carry a halfpenny with a hole for luck. I am not ashamed to say I have myself done so for years. This is what is called a survival. The world is still full of such survivals, but it does not always follow that they are the rudiments of a primor- dial faith. There is old rubbish, but there is new rub- bish also — a point which we may have to discuss more fully hereafter. Totemism. And what applies to Fetishism, applies to Totemism also. Totemism is, no doubt, a most curious phase in the evolution of religious thought. But we want an accurate definition of it. Everything almost that is considered sacred in any religion, has by some writer or other been called a totem. But why should the original and true meaning of totem be so diluted and destroyed ? Totem became known to us first of all through missionaries among the Indian tribes of Canada. They tell us that in the language of the Indians it meant ' clan mark,' or, rather, ' my clan mark.' Father Cuoq (see Academy, Sept. 20, 1884) states that the word is properly ote, meaning ' clan mark.' The possessive form is otem, and with the personal pronoun nind otem, ' my clan mark,' kit otem, 122 LECTURE V. ' thy clan mark, &e.' These clan marks still exist, and an Ottawa Indian has told us that the people to whom he belonged were divided into tribes, sections, and families, according to their clan marks or ododams. All people belonging to the same ododam or sign-post were required to dwell in their own section of the village. At the principal entrance of their enclosure there was often a sign set up. Those who had a bear for their sign were called the Bears ; others, the Gulls, the Hawks, the Finches, the Hares, and so on. After a time every family had to adopt some kind of totem, which became more and more important as signs of recognition in war, and in migrations from one place to another. What would be more natural under these circumstances than that those wdio called themselves Bears should be supposed to be descended from a bear, that they should feel a certain reverence for their ursine ancestor, should look upon real bears as some distant relations, and abstain from kilhng and eating the animal 1 All this is perfectly intelligible, and it is equally intelligible that similar, though not identical, customs and ideas should have sprung up in many parts of the world. Nor was there any harm if, at first, all such customs should have been comprehended under the name of Totemism. But Anthropology has left that early stage, and its best representatives are now en- gaged, not so much in comparing as in discriminating. Comparative Philology also began with comparing ; it is now almost entirely occupied with discovering what is peculiar to each family of languages, to each lan- guage, to each dialect. To treat all animal worship as due to totemism is a mistake. Animal worship TEUE CHAEACTER OF ANCESTOR-WORSHIP. 123 has many different sources. Nor is totemism the only reason \A^hy people abstain from eating certain animals. Surely the Jews did not abstain from eating pork because they were totemists, and believed them- selves descended from a pig. It does not follow that because savage tribes in different parts of the Avorld do the same thing, they do it for the same reason. For the purposes of clear thought we must, as much as possible, keep one name for one thing, and en- deavour to prevent its definition from becoming blurred by promiscuous usage. Comparison and generalisation are interesting and useful, as a first step ; but real knowledge is based on discrimination. If we once knew what is meant by fetishism, what by totemism, and what by worship of ancestors, we can follow the course of these three independent streams of religious thought in different parts of the world, and derive many useful lessons from what they share in common and what is peculiar to each. But when we are told by Long (Academy, Sept. 20, 1884) that totem designates the protecting animals or other worshipful objects of each sept, or by School- craft that totems are the mother-class of the Algon- quins, or by Lippert (1. c, p. 12) that 'a totem is the same as a fetish in which the soul of some departed ancestor has taken up its abode,' we have a right to protest, and to say, ' Define what you mean by fetish, by totem, and by ancestral spirits, and do not mix up three things which, as has been shown again and again, have had three distinct and totally independent beginnings.' In many cases what are called totems are nothing of the kind. For instance, the same Indians who have 124 LECTUKE V. their totems, which may well be translated by family crests, have also charms in the shape of animals. But these charms have a totally different origin. For instance ^, when a young man intends to become a medicine-man, he fasts and prays, until in a vision there is revealed to him his god, in the shape of a bird or animal, ' which he seeks, and carries with him as his protector and guide. Every young man must seek such a god to protect him. The representation of this god he carries at all times as a charm. . . . The skins of animals and birds seen in visions are stuffed and worn on the person. Sometimes deer- skins and cow-hide are cut into strips and made into snakes, toads, and various reptiles, ornamented with beads, and carried about on the person or in the medicine bag.' Now these charms are quite different from the totems. Men belonging to the same totem may each have his own charm, some one of these animals or birds seen in a vision. And while there is no secret about totems, these charms were often kept secret, or displayed on sacred festivals only. If a man among the Santec Indians should dream of a buffalo, he takes the head of the buffalo which he has killed, removes the skin, restores it to its natural shape, and aUows it to cure. He then removes the rods from a few square feet of earth behind a lodge, works the exposed earth very fine, takes a new blanket or robe, which must not have belonged to a woman, and places it over this prepared soil, which was called the Umiane. The skin of the buffalo head, ^ McLean. The Indians, p. 70. TRUE CHARACTER OF ANCESTOR-WORSHIP. 125 having retained its natural shape, was painted blue on one side and red on the other, and then placed in the centre of the blanket. Upon the blue side tufts of white swan's down or small eagle feathers were tied to the hair, and upon the red side tufts of down painted red were tied. When this part of the cere- mony was completed, a pipe was filled, the feast- kettle hung over the fire, and after presenting the pipe to the head, the dreamer addressed the head as follows : ' Grandfather, Venerable Man ! Your children have made this feast for you, may the food thus taken cause them to live, and bring them good fortune ^.' What has this to do with the idea embodied in the totems or sign-posts of Indian tribes ? Again, 'there are war-charms borne upon poles and standards, and these were held to be sacred in war. Such was the faith of the Red Indians in the potency of these charms that, when the standard-bearer was slain, their courage departed, and they were easily defeated by the enemy.' These standards were by no means identical with totems. Sir George Grey, in his Journals of two expeditions of discovery in Western Australia (vol. ii. p. 2.28), was the first to point out among Australians something very like, and yet, as we shall see from his own description, something very different from, the totem of the Red Indians, namely the kohong. This is what he writes : ' But as each family adopts some animal or vegetable as their crest or sign, or kobong, as they call it, I ^ Loc. cit., p. 121. 126 LECTUEE Y. imagine it more likely that these have been named after their families than that the families have been named after them. A certain mysterious connection exists between a family and its kobong, so that a member of the family will never kill an animal of the species to which his kobong belongs, should he find it asleep ; indeed, he always kills it reluctantly, and never without affording it a chance of escape^.' Here, then, if Sii- George Grey's description is right, we have the very opposite of totemism, the kobong or crest derived from the name of the family, not the name of the family derived from the kobong. I do not say that the explanation of Sir George Grey is right, but it is surely right to distinguish kobongs and totems, and not to mix them up all together under a vague name. The custom of totems, of dream-signs, of standards, of kobongs, may each and all become sources of relio'ious ideas. But in order to understand these o various ideas, we must carefully distinguish their sources, and not mix them all together and then label them Totemism ^. Hallucination. If then we can recognise neither Fetishism nor Totemism as the exclusive source of religion, we are not likely to allow ourselves to be persuaded by Dr. Gruppe that the only source of religion all over the world was — hallucination. No one who has studied the annals of religion w^ould deny that hallucination has played a very prominent part in religion, and does so still. But to say that all religion is hallucination ' See also Joitrnal of American Folk Lore, April- June, 1890. ^ Appendix III. TRUE CHARACTER OF ANCESTOR- WORSHIP. 127 is — I say so with all respect for Professor Gruppe^s great learning — not very far from hallucination itself. Ancestor-worship. We now come to Mr. Herbert Spencer's own favour- ite theory of the origin of religion. According to him the root of every religion is ancestor-tuorship. Here again, who would deny that ancestor-worship is an important ingredient of ancient and modern religion ? But to say that it is the root of every religion, is a thoroughly one-sided view. Why should religion, one of the most comprehensive terms in our language, be supposed to have had one beginning only '? Lest I should be suspected of misrepresenting Mr. Herbert Spencer's theory, I must quote his own words (p. 440): 'Anything,' he writes, 'which transcends the ordinary, a savage thinks of as supernatural or divine : the remarkable man among the rest.' We may admit that the savage considers what is outside the ordinary as extra-ordinary, and, if he has the concept of order in nature, as extra-natural or supernatural. But let us reflect for a moment. How could he call it divine, unless he had already elaborated the concept of divinity or divinities ? We saw what labour it took before the crude metal supplied by the senses, such as the fire, the sky, the sun, could be hammered into a coin equivalent to deity. Are we to suppose that the same coin was handed to the savage out of mere charity ? But let us go on with Mr. Herbert Spencer's de- finition. ' The remarkable man,' he continues, ' may be simply the remotest ancestor remembered as the founder of the tribe ; he may be a chief famed for 128 LECTURE V. strength and bravery ; he may be a medicine-man of great repute ; he may be an inventor of something new ; and then, instead of being a member of the tribe, he may be a superior stranger bringing arts and knowledge ; or he may be one of a superior race gaining predominance by conquest. Being at first one or other of those, regarded with awe during his life, he is regarded with increased awe after his death ; and the propitiation of his ghost, becoming greater than the propitiation of ghosts which are less feared, develops into an established worship. There is no exception then. Using the phi-ase ancestor-worship in its broadest sense as comprehending all worship of the dead, be they of the same blood or not, we conclude that ancedor-ivorship is the root of every religion' Ancestor-worship presupposes a Belief in Gods. That ancestor-worship is more fertile in religious thought than fetishism or totemism, will be denied by no one who is acquainted with any of the ancient religions of the world, with those of Rome and Greece, and, more especially, of India. But any scholar ac- quainted with the literature of these countries, knows at the same time how in every one of these religions ancestor-worship presupposes nature- worship, or, more correctly, a worship of the gods of nature. We constantly hear that the Departed, the Fathers, the Ancestors, the Heroes are admitted to the society of the gods, they are often called half-gods, they may at times claim even a certain equality with the gods. But the gods are always there before them, and even when theu' individual names are forgotten, there is TRUE CHARACTER OF ANCESTOR-WORSHIP. 129 the general concept of deity to which the ancestral spirits aspire. Thus we read in the golden words ascribed to Pytha- goras, whoever their author may have been : 'First to the immortal gods pay reverence due, Honour thy oath, and give the Heroes praise, And those beneath the earth by actions just ; Reverence thy parents, and thy nearest kin : And count him friend whose virtue briglitest shines. To gentle w^ords incline and useful deeds.' 'AOavdrovs fxkv vpcura d^ovs, vo/xo) cL? Sm/fCij/rat, Tifxa Kal cre^ov opKov, eneiO' ijpajas dyavovs, Tovs T6 fcaraxOoviovs aeySe 5ai.iJ.ovas, evvofxa pi^av T01JS re yovHS Tijxa, tovs t dyx'-'^T' eKyeyauras ; TWV 5' dWcOV dpfTT} TTOIH (p'lXoV OCTTIS dpiGTOS ^. Again, when Plato speaks of the divine powers that ought to be reverenced by obeying their laws and wishes, he says (Laws, xi. 927) : 'But if these things are really so, in the fii'st place men should have a fear of the gods above, who regard the loneliness of orphans ; and in the second place of the souk of the departed, who by nature incline to take an especial care of their own childi-en; and they are friendly to those who honour them, and unfriendly to those who do not.' There are exceptions where the spirits of the de- parted are mentioned before the Olympian gods, but they are intelligible. When Epaminondas exhorted his Greeks to fight and die for ' their country, for the graves of their fathers, and for the altars of the gods,' he placed the graves of the fathers even before the altars of the gods. But why ? Because he knew ^ Fragmenta Philosophorum Graecorum, Mullaeh, vol. i. p. 193 ; trans- lated by W. Marsham Adams, in The Drama of Empire, p. 76. (3) K 130 LECTUEE Y. the human heart, and what would most powerfully stir it for noble deeds at such a moment. But we may appeal to the very passages quoted by Mr. Herbert Spencer himself in illustration of the worship of ancestors among civilised and uncivilised peoples, in order to show that these ancestral spirits are again and again represented as achiiitted to the society of the gods, or seated hy the side of the gods. On p. 418 he tells us of a Maori chief who scornfully repudiated an earthly origin, and looked forward to rejoining his ancestors, the gods. Williams says of the Fijians, that they admit very little difference between a chief of high rank and one of the second order of deities. Eastian tells us that the king of the Benin in Africa is not only the representative of God upon earth, but God himself. Battel states that the king of Loango is respected like a deity. In America. F. de Xeres relates that Huayana Ceapac was so feared and obeyed that they almost looked upon him as their god. In Peru, according to Acosta, a dead king was imme- diately regarded as a god. According to Thomson, the New Zealanders believed that several high chiefs after death became deified. I could go on quoting such passages from page after page, all showing not that the gods became ancestors, but that the ancestors became gods, or, at all events, approached to the status of a second order of deities. How this deification or apotheosis could have taken place, unless people had formed beforehand a name and concept of gods, Mr. Herbert Spencer seems never TRUE CHARACTER OF ANCESTOR-WORSHIP. 131 to have asked himself. Anyhow, it has never been explained by him, and I am afraid^ it never will be. China and Eg-ypt. China is the country in which ancestor-worship is most widely spread, and where it may be studied in the largest number of ancient literary documents. But no ancestor in China has ever become a god. Dr. Victor von Strauss, to whom we owe so many learned works on Chinese religion, says ^ : ' It can be proved that in China ancestor- worship has enjoyed the highest respect for four thousand years, probably even for longer. It is practised most conscientiously by the emperor and by the common people. But it has been, and has always remained, a concern of the house or the clan only, and even for them the spirit of an ancestor has never become a god.' The same scholar, when treating of Egyptian religion, writes : ' In Egypt divine honours were paid to kings even during their life-time, divine qualities were ascribed to them, and for many of them there existed during thousands of years sanctuaries, priests, and sacrificial services. But even the best and mightiest among them have never become popular deities. If in the oldest times the spirits of the departed had been changed into gods, the same process would have been repeated afterwards, and it would at all events remain inexplicable, why these deities, if their origin had been what it is pretended, should ever have been metamorphosed into natural phenomena.' Among uncivilised races of whose religion we possess only a fragmentary, and often a very doubtful ^ Entstehung und Gesdiichte des altdgyptischen Gbttenjlauhens, p. 9. K 2 132 LECTURE V. knowledge, the worship of nature-gods may sometimes seem to be entirely absent. How easily might it happen, if a traveller were to question a Neapolitan lazzaroni about his religion, that he might take him for a mere worshipper of saints, if not for a fetish- worshipper. It may happen also, as in the case of Buddhism, that the old nature-gods have been completely used up, and, if not entirely discarded, are tolerated only in a subordinate capacity, chiefly for the satisfaction of the populace. Buddhism has outgrown the old Devas. It may be called adevistlc, though not atheistic, for the place, formerly occupied by the Devas of nature, was not left entirely vacant. Buddha himself, the man who had obtained enlightenment, took that place, and though he could not be called divine in the old sense, he was at all events conceived as eternal, at least in some of the sects of the Mahayana division of Buddhism, or of what I call Bodhism. However, granting even that there are races whose religion consists of ancestor-worship only, though, as at present informed^ I know of none, would that prove that the worship of nature-gods must everywhere be traced back to ancestor- worship ? No one, so far as I know, has ever maintained that, because there are countries where religion consists of the worship of nature-gods only, therefore all ancestor- worship must be traced back to nature-worship. Why then should the worship of nature-gods, nay, according to Mr. H. Spencer, of all religion, be traced back to the worship of ancestors ? The one conclusion would be as absurd as the other. What is the result of this one-sidedness in the TEUE CHAKACTER OF ANCESTOR-WORSHIP. 133 study of religion, may best be seen in Mr. Herbert Spencer's Sociology. I always wish to speak with respect and courtesy of a man who in his own sphere is justly regarded as a very high authority. I have no doubt that Mr. Herbert Spencer's knowledge in physical science is very great. In expressing my strong difference of opinion with regard to the facts and the theories in his Principles of Sociology, I can clearly see that the responsibility lies less with him than with the ' tabulated evidence ' on which he founded his theories. Some years ago, for instance, when I doubted the evidence which was to prove that ' reverence for stones is in some cases accompanied by the belief that they were once men and will eventually revive as men ' (1. c. p. 335), I did not question the good faith of the upholders of that theory. I simply doubted the facts on which they relied. And my doubts proved to be well-founded. If a pleader may tell a judge that he has been misinformed as to facts, surely we may claim the same privilege, without being guilty of any want of respect towards a man who, in his own sphere, has done such excellent work. I make no secret that I consider the results of Mr. H. Spencer's onesided explanation of the origin of religion as worthy of the strongest condemnation which a love of truth can dictate ; but to show that a scholar has been led and almost driven to certain false conclusions, by trusting to evidence which is untrustworthy, or by attending to one kind of evidence only, is no more than what every student of history is constantly doing, and what every real lover of truth is bound to do. Mr. H. Spencer has always been so courteous in the criti- cisms which he has addressed to me, that in stating 134 LECTURE V. that I mistrust his evidence, and that I differ from his conclusions toto coelo, I hope I may not say anything that could be considered as personally offensive. I wish I could have followed the example of other scholars who pass his theory by in silence. But would that have been more respectful ? Thus Erwin Rohde, who has just published a learned work, Psyche, Seelen- cult unci Unsterhlichkeitsglcmhe, 1890, and whose very object is to prove the existence of this cult of souls in Greece, writes : ' I have taken no notice of the attempts to derive the whole of Greek religion from ancestor-worship, which at first existed alone, — attempts made not only by De Coulanges, but by several savants in England and Germany' (p. 157). And yet this writer is on many points a follower of Mr. Herbert Spencer, and cannot be suspected of any prejudice against him. But in England these theories cannot be simply ignored, and I only hope that I may succeed in criticising them without seeming discourteous to theii' author. The Euhemeristic Explanation of Zeus. As I am addressing those who are familiar with Greek and Latin literature, I shall confine my remarks to some of the explanations which Mr. Herbert Spencer has given us of classical deities ; and first of all of Jupiter or Zeus. We are told (I.e., p. J230) that Rajah Brooke, in describing a prolonged contest with a mountain-chief in Borneo, shows us what would be likely to happen when a stronghold was in possession of a superior race. His antagonist had fortified an almost inacces- sible crag on the top of Sadok — a mountain about TRUE CHARACTER OF ANCESTOR-WORSHIP. 135 5000 feet high, surrounded by lower mountains. Described by Rajah Brooke as 'grim and grand,' it figures in Dayak legends and songs as 'the grand Mount, towards which no enemy dare venture.' The first attempt to take this fastness failed utterly ; the second, in which a small mortar was used, also failed ; and only by the help of a howitzer dragged up by the joint strength of a hundred yelling Dayak s, did the thii^d attempt succeed. Their chieftain, driven out only by the appliance of a civilised race, was naturally held in dread by surrounding tribes. ' Grandfather Rentap,' as he was commonly called, was dangerously violent ; occasionally killed his own men ; was regardless of established customs ; and, among other feats, took a second wife from a people averse to the match, carried her off to his eyrie, and, discarding the old one, made the young one Ranee of Sadok. With his followers and subordinate chiefs, Layang, Nanang, and Loyish, holding secondary forts serving as outposts, he was unconquerable by any of the native powers. Already there were superstitions about him. Snakes were supposed to possess some mysterious connection with Rentap's forefathers, or the souls of the latter resided in these loathsome creatures.' ' Now if, instead of a native ruler thus living up in the clouds (which hindered the last attack), occa- sionally coming down to fulfil a threat of vengeance, keeping the country around in fear, and giving origin to stories already growing into superstitions, we suppose a ruler belonging to an invading race, which bringing knowledge, skill, arts, and implements un- known to the nations, were regarded as beings of 136 LECTURE V. superior kind, just as civilised men now are by savages ; we shall see that there would inevitably arise legends concerning this superior race seated in the sky. Considering that among the very Dyaks, divine beiugs are conceived as differing so little from men, that the supreme god and creator, Tapa, is supposed to dwell " in a house like that of a Malay . . . himself being clothed like a Dyak," we shall see that the ascription of a divine character to a conqueror thus placed would be certain. And if the country was one in which droughts had fostered the faith in rain-makers and " heaven-herds ' ' — if, as among the Zulus, there was a belief in weather-doctors, able to " contend with the lightning and hail," and to '' send the lightning to another doctor to try him ; " this ruler, living on a peak round which the clouds formed and whence the storms came, would, without hesitation, be reo-arded as the causer of these chano-es — as a thunderer holding the lightnings in his hand. Joined with which ascribed powers, there would nevertheless be stories of his descents from this place up in the heavens, appearances among men, and amours with their daughters. Grant but a little time for such legends and interpretations to be exaggerated and idealised— let the facts be magnified as was the feat of Samson with the ass's jawbone, or the prowess of Achilles making " the earth flow with blood," or the triumphant achievement of Ramses II in slaying 100,000 foes single-handed ; — and we reach the idea that heaven is the abode of superhuman beings com- manding the powers of nature and punishing men.' I had to give you the whole of this long passage in order to enable you to form an independent judgment of TRUE CHARACTEK OF ANCESTOR-WORSHIP. 137 Mr. H. Spencer's theory of the origin of religion. The story which you have just heard is meant to account for the genesis of Zeus, the gatherer of the clouds {ve(p€kr]y€peTa), the wielder of the thunderbolt (Tep\\nKi- pavvos), the ruler of gods and men (ava^ Travroov re Oecov TTCLVToiv T avOpcaiTcov), and at the same time, no doubt, the lover of Leto and other heroines. This Zeus, and let it not be forgotten, this Dyaus also in India, was, according to Mr. Herbert Spencer, originally no more than a ' Grandfather Rentap.' How a divine cha- racter could have been ascribed to this Grandfather Rentap by people who had as yet no knowledge of divine beings, has never been explained. Who was Tapa, whom the Dayaks considered the supreme god and creator ? Whence did he come ? Mr. H. Spencer seems to think that he also was originally a robber, and why? — because he was supposed to dwell in a house like that of a Malay, and to be clothed like a Dayak. How else, I ask, could he have been housed or clothed? How was Zeus himself housed or clothed by the imagination of the early Greek poets ? But granting all this, granting that Tapa, the supreme god and creator, was originally a mere Dayak — where is this retrogression to end, and whence came the first god to whom these deified men could be assimilated ? All I can say at present is that, if Mr. H. Spencer can find a single classical scholar to accept this view of the origin of Zeus in Greece, and of Dyaus in Sanskrit, I shall not write another word on mythology or religion. The Euhemeristic Explanation of other Gods. Other gods share the same fate as Jupiter, when 138 LECTUKE V. arraigned before Mr. Herbert Spencer. He thinks he has proved that savage tribes often ascribe ordinary and extraordinary events to ghosts, and these ghosts, he maintains, were always originally the ghosts of dead people. I doubt whether he has proved the latter point. For instance, when Major Harris tells (1. c, p. 237) us that no whirlwind ever sweeps across the path without being pursued by a dozen savages with drawn creeses, who stab into the centre of the dusty column in order to drive away the evil spirit that is believed to be riding in the blast, how does this prove that the Danakils believed they were stabbing the ghosts of their own ancestors, or of any ancestors at all? When certain tribes shoot their arrows into the sky to bring down rain, we have no reason to suppose that they were trying to kill their deceased ancestors once more. Again (p. 238), it may be quite true that, ' if an eddy in the river, where floating sticks are whirled round and engulfed, is not far from the place where one of the tribe was drowned and never seen again,' there should be stories told that ' the double of this drowned man, malicious as the unburied ever are, dwells thereabouts, and pulls these things under the surface, nay, in revenge, seizes and drags down per- sons who venture near.' But are we to suppose that all over the worlds whenever we hear of watersprites, or Naiads, or Nickers, some person must have been drowned before people could speak of streams and torrents as doing mischief, or of springs and rivulets as conferring blessings ? Expressions such as ' possessed by a spirit,' par- ticularly by an unclean spirit, or again, filled by a TRUE CHARACTER OF ANCESTOR-WORSHIP. 139 good spirit or by the spirit of prophecy, occur in many parts of the worlds and in languages quite unrelated to each other. But where is the evidence that in all these cases the spirits meant were, as Mr. Herbert Spencer asserts, originally the ancestral spirits ? It is well known that the spirits of the departed were dreaded, because they had power to return, and to cause disease and death in other members of the family. Many of the funeral ceremonies were intended to pre- vent the return of the dead and to pacify their anger. In special cases the spirits of the departed, particularly of a father or a mother, may seem to call for ven- geance, and may be beheved to drive a criminal into madness. It is quite true also, as Mr. H. Spencer says, that sneezing, yawning, and even hiccup are often ascribed to a devil who has entered the body of the afflicted. But nowhere do I remember that sneezing, yawning, and hiccup were ascribed to the spirits of a father, grandfather, or great-grandfather. Even the idea of Death, as an agent or as a power that cannot be resisted, or what Mr. Herbert Spencer called ' personalised Death,' is supposed by him to have begun everywhere in the tradition of some un- usually ferocious foe, whose directly seen acts of vengeance were multitudinous, and to whom, after- wards, unseen acts of vengeance were more and more ascribed. It is the disregard of the simplest facts of language which makes Mr. H. Spencer look here as elsewhere for what must seem to all students of language an almost incredible solution of self-made difficulty. If death was to be named at all, it could only be named like hunger, thirst, illness, sleep, and all the rest, as 140 LECTURE V. an agent. The Sanskrit mrityu, death, comes from the root m.ri or mar, to grind down, to destroy, and means originally no more than the agent of destruc- tion. Who that agent was, the early speakers and thinkers knew as little as they knew the agents of rain and sunshine, of cold and heat, when they formed these names. But having once framed a name for death, and having called him the destroyer or killer, there was nothing to prevent them from imagining him as something like a human agent, and picturing him according to the flights of their poetical fancy, whether as a skeleton, or as a reaper, or even as a kind friend. The process was in fact the very op- posite of what Mr. H. Spencer would wish it to have been. When they saw an unusually ferocious foe approaching, they might say that it was Death him- self. But they would not wait till they saw an un- usually ferocious foe, before they conceived and named the extinction of life, which they witnessed every day, and ascribed, not to a known, but to an unknown agent. If therefore Mr. Herbert Spencer (p. 239) sees in the gods who ward off death from Hector, in Minerva who assists Menelaos, in Venus who saves Paris, in Vulcan who snatches away Idaeus, as well as in the Jew's ministering angel and in the Catholic's patron saint, the ghosts of the dead changed into super- natural agents, I can only say, once more, let him get a single classical scholar to second his bill, and I shall vote for it myself. But though I difler from Mr. Herbert Spencer when he thinks that ancestor-worship is the only source of all religion, I readily acknowledge the useful service he TKUE CHAEACTER OF ANCESTOR-WORSHIP. 141 has rendered in showing how important an influence a belief in worship of ancestors has exercised on the development of religious thought. And here I must call attention once more to a strange misapprehension under which Mr. Herbert Spencer seems still to labour. Did Ancestor-worship exist among- the Aryan Nations? Mr. H. Spencer, who has been so diligent a collector of every kind of information from the most distant parts of the world on the worship of the departed and of ancestors, seems to think that some serious doubt has been entertained as to the existence of that wor- ship in Greece and in Italy. On p. 31 3 of his Principles of Sociology he writes : ' It is said that ancestor- worship is peculiar to inferior races. I have seen it implied, I have heard it in conversation, and I have now before me in print the statement that " no Indo- European or Semitic nation, so far as we know, seems to have made a religion of worship of the dead." And the intended conclusion appears to be that these superior races, who in their earliest recorded times had higher forms of worship, were not, even in their earlier times, ancestor-worshippers.' Mr. H. Spencer returns once more to the same subject. In his Appendix, p. 1, he writes : ' The more I have looked into the evidence, the more I have marvelled at those who, in the interests of the mythological theory, assert that the Aryans have been distinguished from inferior races by not being ancestor- worshippers, and who ascribe such ancestor-worship as cannot be overlooked, to imitation of inferior races.' 142 LECTUKE V. Nay, he appeals to Mr. A. C. Lyall as one who had unusual opportunities of studying Aiyan super- stitions as even now being generated, and who says in a letter : ' I do not know who may be the author of the statement w^hich you quote at p. 313, that " No Indo-European nation seems to have made a religion of the worship of the dead ; " but it is a generalisation entirely untenable. Here in Rajpu- tana, among the purest Aryan tribes, the worship of famous ancestors is most prevalent ; and all their heroes are more or less deified.' Considering the importance ascribed to this state- ment, that 'No Indo-European or Semitic nation seems to have made a religion of the worship of the dead,' what reason could there have been for withholdinsf the name of its author ? I do not doubt that Mr. H. Spencer saw it implied, heard it in conversation, and at last had it before him in print — for what is more patient than paper ? But why withhold the name ? Nay, I should say, why quote it at all ? For either the author of that statement w^as simply not ac- quainted Avith Latin, Greek, and Sanskrit, or he may possibly have laid down so narrow a definition of religion that the worship of the dead would have fallen with him under the head of superstition rather than of religion. Would any one quote a statement, by whomsoever it might have been made, that no Indo- European nation ever made a religion of the worship of the powers of nature ? We might as well say that we had seen it implied, heard it in conversation, and seen it in print, that there was no such place as Rome in Italy, or Benares in India, and then invoke high authority to say that these two tow^ns did really exist. TRUE CHAKACTER OF ANCESTOR-WORSHIP. 143 Whoever has only read the Antigone knows how deep roots reverence for the departed had struck in the Greek heart. In Rome we can see the three stages of that worship in full detail, while in India it may be studied more fully even than in Rome and Greece. The facts which Mr., now Sir Charles, Lyall mentions from Rajputana belong to quite a different phase, to the very last period, I should say, of re- ligious development. First of all, the unmixed Aryan blood in the Rajputana of the nineteenth century is more or less problematical. Secondly, the unmixed Aryan thought of that country, centuries after Greek, Mongolian, and Mohammedan and English conquests, is very problematical. But granting all this, it is not the worship of some famous ancestors or of some more or less deified heroes that forms our problem, but the worship of ancestors, and afterwards of All Souls, and All Saints, and this worship not as a curious psychological phenomenon by itself, but as the supposed source of all religion. Does Sir Charles Lyall really think that his experience in Rajputana will support such a theory ? So far from admitting that ancestor-worship is peculiar to inferior races, it will be the chief object of this course of Lectures to show you from authentic sources how a belief in the existence of departed spirits and a worship of ancestors arose among the Aryan nations, how it was combined with the ancient belief in gods, and how it pervaded not only their religious cult, but the whole of their social, civil, and political life. What I protest against is the attempt to make ancestor-worship the only source of all religion. It is one source of religious sentiment — 144 LECTURE V. nay, it is a very important source, but it is second in importance, and second in origin, as compared with the worship of the powers of nature. It is only as following after Physical Religion that what I call Anthropological Religion, or the discovery of some- thing divine in man, and more particularly in the departed or in our ancestors, can be properly treated and rightly understood. LECTURE VI. THE UNTRUSTWORTHINESS OF THE MATERIALS FOR THE STUDY OF RELIGION. Iiiterary Documents of Aryan and Semitic Relig'ions. BEFORE I began to give you an outline of Physical Religion, I felt it incumbent on me to describe the materials which are accessible to us for studying the origin and growth of the gods of nature. The most important among them was the Veda, and so it is again for our present purpose. For information, therefore, of what the Veda is, I must refer you to the description of Vedic literature which I gave in the second volume of my GifFord Lectures. Besides the Veda, our chief authorities were then the Avesta, the sacred book of the followers of Zoroaster, the Homeric poems, and the religious and mythological traditions preserved to us in the later literatures of Rome and Germany. I touched but rarely on Celtic and Slavonic traditions, partly, because they have not yet been so carefully collected and sifted ; partly, or I should say, chiefly, because I felt unable to control as strictly as they ought to be controlled, the statements on which I should have had to rely. (3) L 146 LECTURE VI. Considering how ample the materials are with which the literature of the Aryan nations supplies the students of the Science of Religion, it is but natural, nay, it seems most desirable, that they should devote their principal attention to this wide field of research, and not attempt to glance at other fields, till they have gained a firm footing on their own. Still, the time must come when they have to look beyond the limits of the Aryan world, in order to compare their results with the results obtained by other explorers, and thus either to modify or to confirm the convic- tions at which they have arrived by their more special studies. The same applies to the study of the Semitic reli- gions, and we can see in a recent work by Professor Robertson Smith, how wide and accurate a survey of extraneous religions may be commanded by a scholar, if he has once gained a firm footing on his own special vantage-ground. Iiiterary Documents of other Beligfions. But even from this higher point of view the instinct^ or, it may be, the prejudice, of the scholar would naturally lead him to approach, first of all, the study of those non-Aryan religions which are represented by a real literature. Wherever I allowed myself to survey the wider fields of religious thought, I dwelt chiefly on what may be called the historical religions of the world, the Semitic in Babylon, Nineveh, and Juda?a, the Hamitic in Egypt, and the national religion of China, as restored by Con- fucius. All these may be called the religions of civilised or MATERIALS FOR THE STUDY OF RELIGION. 147 historical races, and, what is more important stilly, they can all be studied in literary documents. The Reli^ons of Illiterate Races. But it has been said very truly that religion is not confined to civilised races, nor is civilisation essential to religion. On the contrary, the lowest savage has his religion, and that religion, for all we know, may be far more primitive, far more simple, nay even far more true, than the religions of many civilised races. Now I have not one word to say against all this. On the contrary, there was a time when I thought myself that a study of the religions of uncivilised races would help us to reach a lower, that is_, a more ancient and more primitive stratum of reli- gious thought than we could reach in the sacred books of the most highly civilised races of the world. Comparative Study of Iiangfuag'es. I was led to this opinion chiefly through the study of Comparative Philology. After exploring the most important languages of the Aryan and the Semitic families of speech, I devoted, as a young man, several years to a study of other languages, in order to see how far they agreed and how far they differed from the Aryan and the Semitic types. I examined for that purpose, not only literary languages, such as the Dravidian languages of India, Chinese and Mandshu, Turkish and Finnish, but likewise some of the Malay and Polynesian dialects, some representatives of American speech, of one of which, the Mohawk, I L2 148 LECTUKE VI. wrote a grammatical analysis, and some of the more important linguistic specimens from Africa, and even from Australia. You must not imagine that I studied these languages as we study Greek and Latin. The age of Methuselah would not suffice for that. I studied chiefly the grammars, I made myself ac- quainted with the general structure of each language, and I was thus enabled to compare, not only the materials of these languages, but their grammatical expedients also with those of the Aryan and Semi- tic languages. I consider this more comprehensive study of languages extremely useful as a preparation for more special studies. It frees us from many pre- judices, it enables us in many cases to go behind the grammars of Sanskrit and Hebrew, not genealogically, but psychologically, and it helps us to recognise beneath a great variety of grammatical formations one and the same fundamental purpose. I am quite aware that the results of these re- searches, which I collected in a letter to Baron Bunsen, Oil the Turanian Languages, published in 1854, have been to a great extent corrected and superseded by subsequent labours. Some of the classifications which I then proposed have had to be surrendered, and the very comprehensive name of Turanian, under which I included a large number of languages neither Aryan nor Semitic, has very properly been banished for a time from linguistic science. But with all that, I do not regret the time devoted to these studies, and I still hold that for gaining a firm grasp on the general principles of human speech, nay for fully appreciating the distinctive character of the Aryan and Semitic languages, nothing is so useful as to be able to con- MATERIALS FOR THE STUDY OF RELIGION. 149 trast them even with such imperfect attempts at embodying human thought as we find in the jargons of the Australian Blacks. Comparative Study of non- Aryan and non-Semitic Religions. When in later years I was led from a study of languages to a study of mythologies and religions, it was but natural that I should have felt strongly drawn towards the same sources from which I had already derived so much useful information. Unde- terred by the dark looks of classical scholars, I en- deavoured to show how some of the best-known mythological and religious traditions of Greece and Rome found their analogy and explanation in the Veda. I went even further, and did not shrink from pointing out striking parallels between the gods and heroes of Homer and the gods and heroes of Polyne- sian, African, and American savages. Here again, I do not deny that later information has shown in several cases that some of these parallelisms were no parallel- isms at all, that what seemed like was essentially unlike, and that the chapter of accidental coincidences was larger than we expected. But the principle that there was, quite apart from any historical borrowing, a common fund of thought in all the mythologies and religions of the world, has remained untouched, and must continue to inspire all serious students of the ancient history of man. New Epocli in the Study of Uncivilised Baces. But there has been of late a strong reaction. First of all, it has been shown that it was certainly a mistake 150 LECTURE VI. to look upon the manners and customs, the legends and religious ideas of uncivilised tribes as represent- ing an image of what the primitive state of mankind must have been thousands of years ago, or what it actually was long before the beginning of the earliest civilisation, as known to us from historical documents. The more savage a tribe, the more accu- rately was it supposed to reflect the primitive state of mankind. This was, no doubt, a very natural mistake, before more careful researches had shown that the customs of savage races were often far more artificial and complicated than they appeared at first, and that there had been as much progression and retrogression in their historical development as in that of more civilised races. We know now that savage and primitive are very far indeed from mean- ing the same thing. But another and even more important change has come over the study of anthropology, so far as it deals with illiterate tribes. Formerly the chief object of students of anthropology was to collect as much information as was available. Whatever a sailor or a trader or a missionary had noted down about out-of- the-way people, was copied out, classified and tabu- lated, without any attempt at testing the credibility of these witnesses. This was particularly the case whenever the evidence seemed to tally with the expectations of the philosopher, or furnished amusing material to the essayist. At last, however, the contra- dictions became so glaring, the confusion so complete, that serious students declined altogether to listen to this kind of evidence. MATERIALS FOR THE STUDY OF EELIGION. 151 The Two New Principles. This, no doubt, was going too far. It was what the Germans call pouring out the child with the bath- water. But it has left at least two principles firmly established and recognised by all conscientious stu- dents of anthropology : 1. That no one is in future to be quoted as an authority on savage races who has not been an eye- witness, and has proved himself free from the preju- dices of race and religion. But even to have been an eye-witness does not suffice. Let us suppose that a traveller had passed through a desert, and seen there a race of savages, perfectly naked, and dancing round a graven image which they called their god. Suppose that after a time these savages had quarrelled among themselves, and the traveller had witnessed at the end of their orgies a massacre of about three thousand men^ the corpses weltering in their blood. What account would he have given of that race ? Would he not have described them as worse than the negroes of Dahomey ? Yet these savages were the people of God, the image was the golden calf, the priest was Aaron, and the chief who ordered the massacre was Moses. We, no doubt, read the 32nd chapter of Exodus in a very different sense. But the casual traveller^ unless he could have conversed with Moses and Aaron, could only have described what he saw, and the ethnologist, knowing his authority to be trustworthy, would naturally have ranged the Israelites among the lowest of savage races. 2. It was necessary therefore to lay down a second principle, namely that no one is in future to 152 LECTURE VI. be quoted as an authorit}^ on the customs^ traditions, and, more particularly, on the religious ideas of un- civilised races, who has not acquired an acquaintance with their language, sufficient to enable him to con- verse with them freely on these difficult subjects. No true scholar requires any proof in support of these two demands. He knows how difficult it often is for the best informed Greek, Latin, or Sanskrit scholars to gain a correct view of the religious opinions of ancient writers. He knows how much depends very often on a single various reading in the text of Homer or Pindar. He knows how often he has himself changed his opinion as to the actual import of a verse in Homer or in the Veda. If, therefore, he has simply to rely on authority, he knows that he must first examine the claims to authority possessed by special students, and he would never dream of relying on the statements of casual travellers in Italy, Greece, or India, ignorant of the languages spoken in these countries, for information either on the modern or the ancient religions of their inhabitants. Anthropologists can no longer ignore the fact that the languages of Africa, America, Polynesia, and even Australia are now being studied as formerly Greek, Latin, and Hebrew only were studied. You have only to compare, for instance, the promiscuous descriptions of the traditions of the Hottentots, in the works of the best ethnologists, with the researches of a real Hot- tentot scholar, like Dr. Hahn, to see the advance that has been made. When we read the books of Dr. Callaway on the Zulus, of the Revs. William Wyatt Gill and Edward Tregear on the Polynesians, MATEKIALS FOR THE STUDY OF RELIGION. 153 of Dr. Codrington on the Melanesians, of Horatio Hale on some of the North American races, we feel at once that we are in safe hands, in the hands of real scholars. Even then we must, of course, remember that their knowledge of the languages cannot compare with that of Bentley, or Hermann, or Burnouf, or Ewald. Yet we feel that we cannot go altogether wrong in trust- ing to their guidance. A TMrd Principle for the Future. I go even a step further, and I believe the time will come when no student will venture to write on any religion, unless he has acquired some knowledge of the language of its sacred writings, or of the people who believe in it. I think, of course, of serious students only, of men who wish to assist in the discovery of truth and in the real advancement of knowledge, not of that class of anthropologists, so well described by Professor Tiele as, ' Ces braves gens qui, pour peu qu'ils aient lu un ou deux r^cits de voyages, ne manqueront pas de se mettre a comparer a tort et a travers, et pour tout resultat produiront la confusion' [Le Mythe de Kronos, p. 17). This may seem to be exacting too much, but you have only to look, for instance, at the description given of the religion, the mythology^ the manners, customs, and laws of the Brahmans about a hundred years ago, and before Sanskrit began to be studied, and you will be amazed at the utter caricature that is often given of the intellectual state of the in- habitants of India, compared with the true picture reflected in their literature. Yet there was plenty of evidence, from Greek and Boman, from Arabic and 154 LECTUKE VI. Persian writers, and from many intelligent travellers and missionaries, which seemed perfectly trustworthy and was accepted as such without any misgivings. This question of the trustworthiness of writers on religion who are ignorant of the language in which religion lives and moves and has its being, has of late become the object of so keen a controversy that it seems best to argue it out, once for all. I do not wonder that those who depend for their information on the tabulated extracts published by Mr. Herbert Spencer, should be unwilling to surrender these con- venient ' Aids to Faith ' without a struggle. The best I can do, therefore, is to give some of the results of my own experience, and to show, in some critical cases, on how broken a reed I myself and others with me have been resting, when we thought that mere outside observers, ignorant of the language of the people, could ever be qualified to give us trustworthy information as to the real religion of uncivilised or even of civihsed races. Testing- of Evidence, (I) with regard to Civilised Baces. I suppose we may reckon the Hindus of the present day among civilised races, and we might suppose that, as many of them speak English, they were quite capable of giving an accurate and intelligible account of their religion. I have tried the experiment again and again with educated Indians staying at Oxford, and I have been startled at their ignorance of their own religion. Many of them have never heard the names of their own sacred books. I do not mean of the Vedas only, but even of the more modern Purajias. They have learned a few prayers from their mothers, they have MATERIALS FOR THE STUDY OF RELIGION. 155 watched the priest coming to their houses to receive gifts, and they remember some festivals, though often for their secular rather than for their religious char- acter. If you ask them what their religious convictions are, they will say that they are followers of VishTiu or /S^iva or some other popular deity, but what they have to believe and not to believe about these gods or any gods, they are unable to say. In fact, they hardly understand what we mean by religion. Reli- gion, as a mere belief, apart from ceremonies and customs, is to them but one, and by no means the most important, concern of life, and they often wonder why we should take so deep an interest in mere dogma, or, as they express it, make such a fuss about religion. However, we must not be too hard on these young gentlemen who come from India to study in England. Consider what answer an English boy would give, if he were suddenly asked to give an account of the Christian religion. No doubt he would have seen and read the Old Testament and the New Testament, and acquit himself well to a certain extent. Still, I know what answers are sometimes given in the examinations in the Rudiments of Religion by under- graduates at Oxford, and knowing it, I can make allowance for the answers which I sometimes receive from my young Indian friends. I shall give you two specimens only. In the questions on the Old Testa- ment there was one, ' State what you know about Jezebel.' The answer was short and pithy: 'Jehu ate him.' In the viva voce examination on the New Testament, a candidate was asked : ' Who was Salome V The answer came quick, 'The father of the sons of 156 LECTURE VI. Zebedee.' The examiner paused and said: 'Do you really mean that, Sir "? ' He thought for a moment, and then said, ' Oh no, Sir, a pool.' After this we must not be too much scandalised, if we do not always get the most trustworthy informa- tion about the Indian religion even from highly educated young Hindus, preparing for the Indian Civil Service examinations. Different Accounts of the Religious Beliefs of tlie Hindus. But while these natives themselves are generally very reticent on their religion, and unable or unwilling to give an account of the faith that is in them, England possesses a large class of persons who have spent their life in India in various pursuits, and who might safely be supposed to know everything about what is called the religion of the natives. These men were formerly quoted as the highest authorities, and it would have seemed an unwarrantable scepticism to question their statements. There are, no doubt, very able, learned, and thoughtful men among these Anglo- Indians. These generally speak with great caution. But there are others who are most positive in their statements, whether favourable or unfavourable, about the manners, the customs, and the religious opinions of the natives, and who think it the height of pre- sumption for a student who has never been in India to differ from their opinions. Fortunately the number of Anglo-Indians is large, and as they often contradict each other flatly, it is open to us to appeal from one to the other, and in the end to form our own opinion from recognised authorities in the ancient and modern literature of the country. MATERIALS FOR THE STUDY OF RELIGION. 157 I shall mention a few only of the dangers which beset the inquiries into the religious opinions of the natives of India, as carried on by gentlemen resid- ing for a number of years at Calcutta, Bombay, or Madras. First of all, there is no such thing as a general religion of the natives. There are probably a hundred different forms of religious belief and worship in that enormous country, but there is no general standard of belief, no pope, no councils, no confession of faith, to guide the masses of the people. The sacred books are read and understood by the few only. There are many educated Hindus who have never seen a copy of a Pura?ia, still less of the Veda. No wonder, therefore, that observations made in one part of India should not always agree with observations made in another locality and among a totally different popu- lation. Secondl}^, in the great towns the whole atmosphere is now pervaded by European ideas. Schools, news- papers, and books have introduced words and ideas into the native languages of India which are quite foreign to the native mind. Thirdly, some natives, particularly those who have been brought in contact with Europeans, are very apt to give the answers which they are expected to give, even if they do not go quite so far as Wilford's and Jacolliot's friends. Like Roman Catholic theologians who, when they are charged with tolerating idolatry, have recourse to a distinction between objects of adoration and objects of veneration, the educated Hindu repels indignantly the charge of idol- worship, and shows that sacred 158 LECTURE VI. images are only meant as memorials or as temporary abodes of the deity. This may be quite true for the educated classes, but it is not so for the mass of the people. To illustrate what I mean I shall give here a description by a missionary who has had long and intimate relations with the Hindus, both the educated and the peasantry, as to the way in which an idol is made and unmade in India, and an account of what the Hindus themselves think of the indwelling spirit of the deity. The Goddess Durga or Kali. Durga or Kali is the most popular goddess in Calcutta, and in the whole of Bengal. Her temple at Kalighat is the most sacred in the country. The image-maker, preparing for the great Durga-P%a festival, buys bamboos, straw, clay, paint, &c. He then fastens the bamboos together so as to form, as it were, the bones or framework of the future image. Having twisted the straw into ropes, he gives the bamboos their required thickness by twisting these ropes round them, and lastly, he gives the outward form of limb and feature by plastering the whole with clay, which, when dry, is painted, and set up in his shop for sale. But it is as yet no more a goddess than an earthern pot is. A day or two before the Puf/a, the worshipper visits the shop of the image- maker, and selects an image, larger or smaller, accord- ing to his means. Having paid for it, he hands it to a coolie, or to three or four coolies — if large — to carry home. Meanwhile he himself goes to another shop, MATEKIALS FOR THE STUDY OF RELIGION. 159 and buys Durga's hair, in a third her sari, in a fourth gorgeous jewellery made of mica or talc, in a fifth the tin weapons, &c., with which her hands are armed. Laden with these purchases he arrives at home, and commences to tie on the hair, and to array the image in gorgeous apparel. Still, when all this is done, and the image is enshrined in the Pu(/a house, she is yet no goddess. Durga must be entreated to leave her beloved husband, and to descend and dwell in the image ; and it is only when she has done this, that the image is to be bowed before, and offerings of money, &c., presented at the shrine. She condescends to dwell on earth for three days. On the afternoon of the third day, the image is borne aloft on men's shoulders, to the deafening sound of gongs and tom- toms. Baboos, often men who never put a foot to the ground on any other day of the year, follow through the dusty and not very odorous streets of Calcutta. When the banks of the Hooghly are reached, the image is put on board a boat, which is rowed to the middle of the stream ; and, just as the sun is setting, it is allowed to sink below the water, while a Nilkanth (the beautiful Indian jay, also a name of Siva,) is released from a cage in which he has been carried, to fly away to /S'iva, to tell him that his beloved Durga is coming back to him. The image was not sacred till animated — so to speak — by Durga, nor are the frameworks of the images, which in a day or two plentifully strew the shore, sacred. Durga has gone away, and they are again but bamboo and straw. This is one account of the goddess Durga, the most popular deity of Bengal. 160 LECTURE VI. If we asked an educated native, he would probably say that all these festivals with their processions and shoutings and images were meant for the people who could not understand anything else. Educated people in England say the same of the corybantic processions of the Salvation Army. They say that they appeal "to minds to whom nothing else would appeal. But to the Kuli and his wife and children the very question, what the image of Durga was, would be hardly intel- ligible. To him it is Durga, the wife of >Siva, who has to be propitiated, and whose festival is to them one of the happiest days in the whole year. We should find but few, if any, among the learned natives who could tell us the real character, the origin and history of this goddess. They see, no doubt, more in her than a mere idol, and look upon the hideous accessories of her worship as things that must be tolerated, though they cannot be approved. But her real antecedents and her historical origin would be as great a puzzle to them as it is to us. The Higher Conception of Durg-a. I had a correspondence not long ago with a learned and thoughtful native of India, a real believer in Durga, in order to find out how he reconciled his own exalted ideas of the godhead with the popular concep- tion of this deity. ' Behind the popular conception,' he writes, ' there is, as many of us believe, a beautiful and grand idea of godhead. Durga represents to us universal /S'akti or power, i. e. every force, spiritual and physical, of Nature in every form. This may be seen from the famous hymn addressed to her as Ka,ndi (in the Devimahatmya of the Marka?icZeya MATERIALS FOR THE STUDY OF RELIGION. 161 PuraTia), beginning with the words, ya devi sarva- bhuteshu, "she who is the goddess in all things," occurring in every verse. The Vedic deities represent separate forces or manifestations of Nature. Agni is fire, Varu iia, is water, Indra is the firmament or clouds or rain. But Durga includes in herself every deity, being universal power. She is all the Vedic deities and all the Paura^iic ones combined in a grand unity. The teachers of the Adi Samar/ (Devendranath Tagore, (fee.) have already familiarised the people with the idea of God being either Father or Mother. Durga is Mother-God. Divested of personality and sex, Durga is universal power, almighty, irresistible power. What K7'zsh?2a says of himself to Ar^una in the Bhagavad- gita, about his being everything, would apply to this conception of Durga equally. For K7^ish?ia in the Bhagavadgita read Durga, and you will readily under- stand who and what Durga is in the estimation of all genuine and educated >S'aktas. ' How a deity of Paura^iic origin could come to supplant all the earlier Vedic deities, and to be iden- fied with the idea of supreme Godhead, is, perhaps, not very difficult to understand. The manner in which the Marka^ic^eya Pura7ia has described her (notwithstanding the late origin ascribed to her) has naturally led to this development. No Christian can compose a hymn to the Godhead (without reference to Christ, of course, and to the Holy Ghost) that would not apply to Durga. Indeed, if a personal God, almighty and all-perfect, is to be believed in, it makes very little difference whether that God is called Father or Mother. * I have only to add what the meaning of the word (3) M 162 LECTURE VI. Durga is. Etymologically the word means, She who is approached with difficulty. Of course, in this sense, she is the unapproachable supreme godhead ; one, that is, who cannot be approached without years upon years of the austerest of penances and meditations. It may also mean, one who can cross every difficulty, and hence ward off all difficulties from her devotees. You know that Rama worshipped Durga, and it was on the fourth day (i. e. the first day after the worship had been over) that Rava^za was slain. No Hindu rises from his bed in the morning without repeating the following : — Prabhate jsJi smaren nitya77i D urga- Durga kshara- dvayam, Apadas tasya nasyanti tamas suryodaye yatha. " He who recollects every morning the two syllables Durga, Durga, his calamities vanish like darkness at the rising of the sun." ' Who would deny that there are true religious elements in this view of Durga, so different from the image made of bamboos, straw, clay, and paint ? Who would deny that motherhood has as much right as fatherhood as one of the many forms under which man may conceive the godhead ? Durga, as conceived by my friend, seems a kind of deified Nature, or an image of Divine Omnipotence, such as we find most frequently elsewhere, particularly in Semitic religions. The Origin of Durga. But there is one difficulty that remains. My corre- spondent says that the manner in which the Mar- ka^icZeya Pura/na has described Durga has naturally led to this development. No doubt it has. But the ques- MATERIALS FOK THE STUDY OF EELIGION. 163 tion is, How did that late Pura?ia come to describe her thus ? Are there any historical antecedents of such a goddess as the Durga described in the Mar- ka7ic?eya Pura^ia? If the study of religion has taught us anything, it has taught us that no goddess springs suddenly from the brain of man, like Athene from the head of Zeus. Now it is well known that female deities act a rather subordinate part in the Vedic mythology of India, and even those who, like the Dawn, receive the warmest homage, never attain to the dignity of the female deities in Semitic mythology who represent the active power (sakti) of their male companions. Some scholars, such as Weber, Muir\ and others, endeavoured, many years ago, to show that the PauraTiic Durga was the continuation of the Vedic Kali, the dark flame, also the wife of Agni, and of Ambika, the sister, later the wife of Rudra. There is some truth in this, as there is also in the other theory that ;Siva, the husband of Durga^ may be looked upon as connected with Rudra and Agni. But I cannot bring myself to believe that this modern god and goddess represent really a continuous develop- ment of the older Vedic gods and goddesses. There is such a decidedly non-Vedic spirit in the conception of Durga and her consort iS'iva that I feel inclined to trace it to some independent source. A goddess with four arms, or ten arms, with flowing hair, riding on a lion, followed by hideous attendants, could hardly have ^ See Muir, Original Sanskrit Texts, vol. iv. pp. 420-437. Nearly all the important passages, bearing on Durga, have been carefully- collected here. I have quoted some of his translations also, with but few alterations, M2 164 LECTURE VI. been the natural outcome either of Rodasi, the wife of Rudra, and of the Maruts, or even of the terrible flames of Agni, Kali, and Karali. The process to which Durga and /Siva owe their present character must, I believe, be explained in a different way. It was probably the same process with which Sir Alfred Lyall and others have made us acquainted as going on in India even at the present time. When some outlying, half-savage tribes are admitted to a certain status in the social system of the Brahmans, they are often told that their own gods are really the same as certain Brahmanic gods, so that the two coalesce and form a new incongruous mixture. Many years ago I suspected something like this in the curious process by which even in Vedic times the ancient gods, the i^ibhus, had been assigned to the Eathakaras, literally the chariot-makers, a not quite Brahmanic class, under a chief called Brihu. If we suppose that some half-barbarous race brought their own god and goddess with them, while settling in the Brahmanised parts of India, and that after a time they forced their way into the Brahmanical society, we could then more easily understand that the Brahmanic priests, in admitting them to certain social privileges and offering them their partial services, would at the same time have grafted their deities on some of the minor Vedic deities. Traces of a foreign, possibly of a Northern or North- eastern Durga, may still be discovered in some of her names, such as Haimavati, coming from the snow- mountains ; Parvati, the mountaineer ; Kirati, belong- ing to the Kira^as, a race living in the mountains east of Hindustan. One of her best-known names, Ksindi, MATERIALS FOR THE STUDY OF RELIGION. 165 explained as violent, savage, belongs to an indigenous vernacular rather than to Sanskrit. Ksinda, and Mu7icZa, the latter possibly meant for the Mu^ic/a tribes, are represented as demons conquered by the goddess, and she is said to have received, from her victory over them, the name of KeL-mundsi. Possibly ira?ic?ala, the name of one of the lowest castes, may be connected with Kanda,, supposing that, like M.unda>, it was originally the name of a half- savage race. Even in so late a work as the Hariva77isa, v. 3274, we read that Durga was worshipped by wild races, such as ^'abaras, Varvaras, and Pulindas. Nay even /S'arva, another name of /Siva, and iS'arva and iS'arva'ni, names of Durga, may be interpreted as names of a low caste (see /Sarvari, a low-caste woman, a devotee of Rama). If then Ksindi was originally the goddess of some savage mountaineers who had invaded central India, the Brahmans might easily have grafted her on Durga, an epithet of Ratri, the night, or on Durga, as a possible feminine of Agni (havyavahani), who carries men across all obstacles (durga), or on Kali and Karali, names of Agni's flames, or Rodasi, the wife of the Maruts or Rudra. This goddess is called vishita-stuka, with dishevelled locks, and Keindi also is famous for her wild hair (kesini). In the same way her consort, whatever his original name might have been, would, as a lord of mountaineers, have readily been identified with Rudra, the father of the Maruts, or storm-winds, dwelling in the mountains (giristha, Rv. VIII. 94, 12, &c.), or with Agni, whether in one of his terrible, or in one of his kind or friendly forms (siva tanu/i, /Satarudriya, 3). In his case, no doubt, the character of the prototypes on which he 166 LECTURE VI. was grafted^ whether Rudra or Agni, was more strongly marked, and absorbed therefore more of his native complexion, than in the case of Durga, his wife. But the nature of >S'iva's exploits and the savage features of his worship can hardly leave any doubt that he too was of foreign origin. It should be remembered also that Rudra and Agni, though they were identified by later Brahma7iic authors, were in their origin two quite distinct concepts ^. I hold therefore that neither Durga nor Siva, can be looked upon as natural developments, not even as mere corruptions, of Vedic deities. They seem inex- plicable except as importations from non-Brahmanic neighbours, possibly conquerors, or as adaptations of popular and vulgar deities by proselytising Brahmans. But even this would not sufiice to account for all the elements which went towards forming such a goddess as we see Durga to be in the epic and Paura'Jiic literature of India. If she was originally the goddess of mountaineers, and grafted on such Vedic deities as Ratri, Kali, Rodasi, Nirriti, one does not see yet how she would have become the representative of the highest divine wisdom. The North, no doubt, was often looked upon as the home of the ancient sages, and, as early as the time of the Kena-upanishad, the knowledge of the true Brahma is embodied in a being called Uma Hai- ^ As early as the time of the Satapatha-brahma>ia, Agni was identified with Rudra (VI. 1, 3, 10), and among his other names we find Sarva (sic\ Pasupati, Ugra (Vayu), Asani (lightning), Bhava (Pargranya), Mahan Deva (moon), tsana (sun), Kumara (boy). In the same Brahma?;a (I. 7, 3, 8) Agni's names are given as Sarva (among the eastern people), Bhava i^among the Bahikas), Pasunam MATERIALS FOR THE STUDY OF RELIGION. 167 mavati. She is also called Ambika, mother, Parvati, living in the mountains, and her husband Uma- pati is identified with Rudra (Taitt.-Ar. 18). Some authorities (Ram. I. 36, 13) speak of Uma and Ganga as two daughters of Himavat, which might lead us to suppose that Uma was the name of a Northern river, possibly, like the Sarasvati, a river protecting the settlement of some Vedic sages. But whoever this Uma or Ambika was, she too, as representing the highest wisdom, was sometimes embodied in the god- dess Durga, who thus became the incarnation of wisdom quite as much as the terrible goddess, the destroyer of thousands of evil demons. Nor is she only the representative of that Brahma- vidya (Maha- bh., Bhishmaparva, v. 803), or of that Vedantic philosophy which discovers the true Brahma behind the veil of Maya ; but in the Devi-mahatmya she is represented also as Mahamaya herself, or the cause of all phenomenal existence. We read there (V. 56) : ' By thee the universe is upheld, by thee this world is created, by thee it is preserved, 0 goddess ; and thou always devourest it in the end.' And again (V. 63) ; ' Thou art the power of whatever substance, existent or non-existent, anywhere is, O thou soul of all things ; why art thou praised then ? Who is able to magnify thee, by whom the creator of the world, the possessor of the world, and he who devours the world, have been made subject to sleep ? ' Here then we see to a certain extent the justi- fication of the opinion expressed by my Indian correspondent, as to the true nature of Durga. What he says of her, is exactly what the gods, headed by Indra, said to her, after she had vanquished the demon 168 LECTURE VI. Mahisha : ' We bow down with devotion before the goddess Ambika, who stretched out this world by her own power, in whom are impersonated the various energies (saktis) of all the gods ; she is to be adored by all the deities and i^ishis.' But the steps by which Durga became what she is now will never be laid bare from beginning to end, unless we can gain much fuller information of the religious life of the people at large than has hitherto been accessible to us in Sanskrit literature ^. This may give some faint idea of the difficulties which confront the student of religion, even under the most favourable circumstances. They could hardly anywhere be more favourable than in India. We have the advantage there of a large number of wit- nesses, whose observations can be compared and checked one by the other. We have natives who speak Enghsh, and missionaries and others who speak Hindustani, and yet we see how they not only contradict one another, but how what they relate is hardly ever the whole truth. There are more varieties, dialects, patois, and jargons of religion than of lan- guage, and to construct out of all of them a classical grammar, a rule of faith accepted by all, is one of the most difficult tasks ^. Some people would consider it almost impossible. Every one, they say, has a right to his own religion. Religion lives only in the heart, and no one has any right to touch or to correct it. Such a view, though I do not deny that there is some truth in it, would, of course, put an end to all ^ See Appendix IV. ^ See some very pertinent remarks on this subject in the Pioneer iLTaiZ of April 9, lb91. MATERIALS FOR THE STUDY OF RELIGION. 169 historical study and religion. It would be the same as if in the study of language we were to say that every one has a right to his own dialect; that lan- guage lives only as it is spoken, and no one has any right to touch or to correct it. Authoritative Books. Among most nations this difficulty has been solved, for religion by sacred books and creeds, for language by classical literature and grammar. But among races who have neither the one nor the other, you will see now why the task of discovering the general out- lines of their religion is so difficult a task, quite as difficult as that of discovering the general outlines of their grammar, nay even more difficult. Testing of Evidence, (II) witli reg^ard to Illiterate Races. I tried once to collect from the mouth of a Mohawk a grammar of his language. The circumstances were most advantageous. My Mohawk friend knew English and a little Latin. He had been educated at a Mis- sionary school, and he was ready to answer all ques- tions which I addi-essed to him. Besides, the Mohawk being one of the North-American polysynthetic lan- guages, I knew on the whole what to expect. It was most curious, however, that this young Mohawk, who knew what grammar meant, insisted from the first, that Mohawk was really no language, like English, that it had no real grammar, and that it was useless to attempt to construct a grammar of it. This is exactly what some Negro converts say, when examined about their former religion. It is really no religion at all, they say ; theii- old gods are quite different from their new God, and yet, when 170 LECTUKE YI. they are in trouble, they will pray to their old gods to avert dangers, while they shrink from troubling their new God with their petitions. I soon discovered that Mohawk, as spoken by my friend, was a most systematic, most regular, most transparent language. The roots stood out clearly by themselves, and the most minute grammatical modifications were expressed by a number of short suffixes which left no doubt as to their original pronominal character. After I once knew the char- acter of these suffixes, there was little difficulty in telling how to conjugate a new verb, even though my friend had not repeated to me the actual forms. This surprised him very much, and I remember one occasion when he was almost frightened by my know- ledge of the Mohawk grammar. In Mohawk there are different forms not only for singular and plural, but also for a dual. Now if we want to say, * I love my children,' we must say, * I them love my children.' The sufiix for them is really what is called an infix, and seems to form part of the verb. I then asked my teacher to give me the Mohawk for ' I love my parents,' which was ' I them love my parents.' Here I stopped him, and asked whether it should not be ' I them two love my parents,' substituting the dual for the plural infix. He stared at me when he heard my grammatical compound, as if it were not quite canny. ' Why,' he said, ' that is how my grandmother used to say. How came you to know it?"* I explained to him how I came to know it. The fact was that in Mohawk, as in other languages, the old dual forms were dying out. His grandmother still used them — he himself found the plural sufficient. MATEKIALS FOR THE STUDY OF RELIGION. 171 If this correcting and reconstructing process is necessary for a knowledge of the languages, how much more is it for the religions of uncivilised people. As I have spoken of my Mohawk friend, I may give you another curious case that arose in my conversa- tions "vvith him, and which shows how the peculiar character of a language may influence even religious expressions. In Mohawk we cannot say father, mother, child, nor the father, the mother, the child. We must always say, my father, or thy mother, or his child. Once when I had asked him to translate the Apostles' Creed for me, he translated, ' I believe in our God, our father, and his son,' all right. But when he came to the Holy Ghost, he asked, is it their or his Holy Ghost? I told him that there was a difference of opinion on that point between two great divisions of the Christian Church, and he then shook his head and declared that he could not translate the Creed till that point had been settled. Of course, my friend, the Mohawk, having been educated at a Missionary school in Canada, knew nothing of the old religion of his tribe. He was a Christian, and if he had known anything of the religious beliefs and customs of his ancestors, he would probably have said that they really had no religion like the English religion, just as he thought that their language had no grammar like the English language. Such an answer has very often been given to inquisitive travellers, and some of them have told us in consequence that certain races had really no religion at all. This belief, however, that there are savage races without any trace of religion, has now, I believe, 172 LECTUEE VI. been completely surrendered by those who have made the history of religion a subject of scholar like study. Tribes without religion have been hunted for in the most remote and inaccessible corners of the globe, but in every case, so far as I am aware, the statement that a whole race was ever without any religion, has been controverted by ocular observation. I cannot here go through every case where a more or less savage race has been described to us first, as entirely without religious ideas, and afterwards, not only as religious, but as superstitious, pious, and even priest-ridden. It might seem as if there had been on one side a wish to establish the fact that man could exist without religion, and, on the other side, that he could not. There certainly was for a time a tendency to discover men standing on so low a level as to form a bridge between animal and man. All such tendencies are much to be deprecated, as hindrances to the progress of science. But in most cases, I believe, the conflict of evidence is due to misconcep- tion rather than to prejudice. We all know from our own experience within a smaller sphere, what contorted and distorted images our own peculiar angle of vision, our own religious, moral, national, or political spectacles may produce, what we can bring ourselves to believe, and, as we call it, honestly to believe, if there is nothing to make us hesitate. Read the descriptions of Mohammed by his disciples and by his enemies, read the enthusiastic panegyrics of Socrates by Plato and his condemnation as a corruptor of the Athenian youth, read the account of Napoleon by Thiers and by Lanfrey or by Mad. de MATERIALS FOR THE STUDY OF RELIGION. 173 Remusat, read in our daily papers the representations of the same person as a pattern of unselfish patriotism and as a reckless political gambler, and you will learn to make allowance for the strange opinions expressed by travellers and missionaries of races of men whom they are pleased to call savages or brutes. The Andaman Islanders. I shall only mention one more case, which seems more flagi-ant than all the rest, that of the Mincopies, or the inhabitants of the Andaman islands. It is a case of taking away not only their religious character, but their character altogether. Owing to the exaggerated accounts of travellers, the inhabitants of these islands had acquired such a bad reputation for ferocity and brutality that for centuries no ships passing there, on the very high road of commerce, would go near these islands. An Arab writer ^ of the ninth century states that their complexion is frightful, their hair frizzled, their countenance and eyes terrible, their feet very large, and almost a cubit in length, and that they go quite naked. Marco Polo (about 1285) declared that the inhabitants are no better than wild beasts, and he goes on to say : ' I assure you all the men of this island of Angamanain have heads like dogs, and teeth and eyes likewise ; in fact, in the face they are just like big mastiff dogs.' In 1857, after the Sepoy mutiny, it was necessary to find a habitation for a large number of convict prisoners. The Andaman Islands were then selected for a penal colony. The havoc that was wrought by this sudden contact between the Andaman islanders and these Indian convicts was terrible, and the end * Flower, On the Pygmy Races of Men, p. 6. 174 LECTURE VI. will probably be the same as in Tasmania, — the native population will be extirpated. If these natives had really been like what Marco Polo describes them, their disappearance would not have been a cause of regret. But let us hear what Mr. Edward Horace Man, the Assistant- Superintendent of the islands, and specially in charge of the natives, has to tell of them. He is a careful observer, a student of language, and perfectly trustworthy. According to him the Andamanese are certainly a very small race, their average height being 4 feet lOf inches. The tallest woman was 4 feet 4| inches, the smallest 4 feet 2 inches. Their hair is fine, very closely curled and frizzly. Their colour is dark, not abso- lutely black. The features possess little of the most marked and coarser peculiarities of the negro type. The projecting jaws, the prominent thick lips, the broad and flattened nose of the genuine negro are so softened down in the Andamanese as scarcely to be recognised. Before the introduction into the islands of what is called European civilisation, the inhabitants lived in small villages, their dwellings built of branches and leaves of trees. They were ignorant of agriculture, and kept no poultry or domestic animals. Their pottery was hand-made, their clothing very scanty. They were expert swimmers and divers, and able to manufacture well-made dug-out canoes and outriggers. They were ignorant of metals, ignorant, we are told, of producing fire, though they kept a constant supply of burning or smouldering wood. They made use of shells for their tools, had stone hammers and anvils, bows and arrows, harpoons for killing turtle and fish. MATERIALS FOR THE STUDY OF RELIGION. 175 Such is the fertility of the islands that they have abundance and variety of food all the year round. Their food was invariably cooked, they drank nothing but v^ater, and they did not smoke. People may call this a savage life, — I know many a starving labourer who would gladly exchange the benefits of European civilisation for the blessings of such savagery. But this is not all. It has been the custom of a certain class of anthropologists to illustrate their theories of the growth of civilisation by descriptions of savage life, such as it was supposed to exist in Africa, Australia, and America. In these descriptions the Andaman islanders have generally been made to serve as specimens of the very lowest stratum of humanity, and it is fortunate that before they have been altogether improved off the face o'" the earth, they should have found one advocate at least to redeem their character. This is what Mr. Man, who witnessed their last struggle with civilisation, says of them : ' It has been asserted that the " communal mar- riage " system prevails among them_, and that " mar- riage is nothing more than taking a female slave ; " but so far from the contract being regarded as a merely temporary arrangement, to be set aside at the will of either party, no incompatibility of temper or other cause is allowed to dissolve the union ; and while bigamy, polygamy, polyandry, and divorce are un- known, conjugal fidelity till death is not the exception, but the rule ; and matrimonial differences, which, how- ever, occur but rarely, are easily settled with or with- out the intervention of friends." ' One of the most striking features of their social relations is the marked 176 LECTURE TI. equality and affection which exists between husband and wife,' and the 'consideration and respect with which women are treated might with advantage be emulated by certain classes in our own land.' ' As to cannibalism or infanticide, they are never prac- tised by the Andamanese.' But this is not all. These little fellows who in- habit these beautiful islands have lately found another defender in the person of Colonel Cadell, the Chief Commissioner of the Andaman Islands. As to the scenery, he describes it like fairyland. ' The water deep and clear as a crystal ; on either side, within a stone's throw, magnificent forest trees, reaching to a height of 200 feet, the stems of some straight and white, like gigantic silver rods, with umbrella-like tops ; others clothed from foot to summit with creepers in beautiful festoons ; palms, rattans, and canes of many varieties interspersed among the forest trees, creating striking contrasts of form and colouring, while beneath the vessel were inconceivably beautiful coral gardens.' ' But year after year,' he continues, ' in his cruises among the islands, he saw a perceptible diminution in the number of people. It was un- doubtedly a moribund race, and probably none of them would be found alive twenty-five or thirty years hence, except perhaps in Little Andaman, where the inhabitants had been kept free from the dire effects of contact with civilisation.' I have said before that I cannot share the feeling of regret that certain races are dying out, par- ticularly when they are succeeded by a stronger and better race. If the Celtic race were effete, why should it not be replaced by the Saxon race ? If the Saxon MATEKIALS FOR THE STUDY OF RELIGION. 177 race were effete, why should it not make room for a better race ? Nothing would be lost so long as we have on earth sound minds in sound bodies. But I must protest when I see certain races represented as un- worthy to cover the face of the earth, simply in order to have an excuse for removing them from the face of the earth. Now think of all that has been alleged against the poor Mincopies. They had feet a cubit long — and yet we know now that they are hardly five feet in height. They had faces like dogs, they were like big mastiffs ; but Mr. Man tells us that the coarse features of the Negro type were softened down in them so as scarcely to be recognised. And now let us hear Colonel Cadell once more. He is a Victoria Cross, and not likely to be given to excessive sentimentality. Well, this is what he says of these fierce mastiffs : ' They are merry little people. One cannot imagine how taking they are. Every one who had to do with them fell in love with them. Contact with civilisation had not improved the morality of the natives. In their natural state they were truthful and honest, generous and self-denying. He had watched them sitting over their fires cooking their evening meal, and it was quite pleasant to notice the absence of greed and the politeness with which they picked off the tit-bits and thrust them into each other's mouths. The forest and sea abundantly sup- plied their wants, and it was therefore not surprising that the attempts to induce them to take to cultiva- tion had been quite unsuccessful, highly though they appreciated the rice and Indian corn which were occasionally supplied to them. All was grist that came to their mill in the shape of food. The forest (3) N 178 LECTURE VT. supplied them with edible roots and fruits. Bats, rats, fljang foxes, iguanas, sea-snakes, molluscs, wild pig, fish, turtle, and last, though not least, the larvae of beetles, formed welcome additions to their larder. He remembered one morning landing by chance at an encampment of theirs under the shade of a gigantic forest tree. On one fire was the shell of a turtle, acting as its own pot, in which was simmering the green fat delicious to more educated palates ; on another its flesh was being broiled together with some splendid fish ; on a third a wild pig was being roasted, its drippings falling on wild yams, and ajar of honey stood close by — all delicacies fit for an alderman's table.' According to strict anthropological terminology these men are savages, nay, the very lowest among savages, because we are told they have no knowledge of kindling a fii'e, they do not cultivate the soil, and they do not domesticate any animals. How they can boil a turtle and roast a pig without a fire is difiicult to understand. It may be true that they sow not, neither do they reap, nor gather into barns, but the reason which they give for it would prove satisfactory even to an alderman. They need not toil, and they need not spin, and yet they have enough to eat. However, I do not want to defend these merry, lazy islanders, or to maintain that Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of them in their almost complete nakedness. All I wished to point out was the insecurity of the evidence on which so many theories have been erected, and the necessity of trust- ing to no witnesses except those who have lived among so-called savages for many ^^ears, and who have acquired a practical knowledge of their language. MATEKTALS FOE THE STUDY OF RELIGION. 179 And now let us consider their religion. According to some authorities they were quite guiltless of any religion, whether good or bad. This opinion received the support of Sir John Lubbock, and has been often re- peated without ever having been re-examined. As soon, however, as these Mincopies began to be studied more carefully, more particularly as soon as some persons, resident among them, acquired a knowledge of their language, and thereby a means of communication with them, their religion came out as clear as daylight. According to Mr. E. H. Man, they have a name for God, PMuga ; and how can a race be said to be with- out a knowledge of God, if they have a name for God ? Fuluga has a very mythological character. He has a stone-house in the sky. He has a wife whom he created himself, and from whom he has a large family, all, except the eldest, being girls. The mother is supposed to be green (the earth ?), the daughters black. They are the spirits, called Moroivin. His son is called Fijchor. He alone is permitted to live with his father, and to convey his orders to the Morowin. But PMuga has a moral character also. His appearance is like fire, though now-a-days he has become invisible. He was never born, and is immortal. The whole world was created by him, except only the powers of evil. He is omniscient, knowing even the thoughts of the heart. He is angered by the commission of certain sins, some very trivial, but he is pitiful also to all who are in distress. He is the judge from whom each soul receives its sentence after death. According to other authorities, some of the Mincopies look on the sun as the fountain of all that is good, on the moon as a minor power, and they believe in a number N2 180 LECTURE YI. of inferior spirits, the spirits of the forest, the water, and the mountain, as agents of the two higher powers. They believe in an evil spirit also, who seems to have been originally the spirit of the storm. Him they try to pacify by songs, or to frighten away with their arrows. All this has been known for years, and yet the old story is repeated again and again that the Andaman islanders are devoid of all religious sentiments. Is that rio-ht 1 ? Neg'ative and Positive Evidence. It can easily be seen that there is in these matters an essential difference between negative and positive evidence. If travellers tell us they have never dis- covered any signs of religion among certain races, this may or may not be a proof that these races are without religion. But if a traveller tells us that he has seen people believing in God or gods, showing reverence to the spirits of the forest, the water, and the mountains, and trying to pacify an evil spirit, we can hardly ignore all this and ascribe it either to imagination or wilful untruth. It is quite possible that a traveller or missionary may misapprehend and misunderstand what he sees and hears, but there are few cases where downright falsehood as to facts has been proved against any of them. I fear, however, that, unless the students of religion acquire themselves a certain knowledge of the languages in which religious ideas have taken their origin and their shape, Com- parative Theology will never hold its place by the side of Comparative Philology, and will never assume a truly scientific character^. ^ See Appendix V. ^ See my addi'ess as President of the Anthropological Section at the Meeting of the British Association at Cardiff in 1891. LECTURE VIL THE DISCOVERY OF THE SOUL. Physical Religion Incomplete. PHYSICAL religion, beginning with a belief in agents behind the great phenomena of nature, reached its highest point when it had led the human mind to a belief in one Supreme Agent or God, what- ever his name might be, Avhether Jehovah oi Allah, whether Jupiter, Dyaus, or Zeus. Homer calls Zeus the father, the most glorious, the greatest, who rules over all, mortals and immortals. Xenophanes^ goes even further : ' There is one god,' he says, ' the greatest among gods and men, neither in form nor in thought like unto mortals.' What more could we require from Physical Religion? It was supposed that this God could be implored by prayers and pleased by sacrifices. He was called the father of gods and men. Yet even in his highest conception he was no more than what, as we saw, Cardinal Newman defined God to be. ' I mean by the Supreme Being,^ he wrote, ' one who is simply self- dependent, and the only being who is such. I mean ' Eh Oeds eV tc OeoTai Kal dvOpunroKTi jxeyiaros, ov ri Sifxas BvrjToiai ofxouos ovde voTjixa. {Clem. Alex. Strom, v. p. 601, C.) 182 LECTURE VII. that he created all thin org out of nothino- and could destroy them as easily as he made them, and that, in consequence, he is separated from them by an abyss, and incommunicable in all his attributes ^.' This abyss separating God from man remains at the end of Physical Religion. It constitutes its in- herent weakness. But this very weakness becomes in time a source of strength, for from it sprang a yearning for better things. Gods like those of the Epicureans, who exist, indeed, but never meddle with the affairs of men, could not satisfy the soul of man for any length of time. Even the God of the Jews, in His unapproachable majesty, though He might be revered and loved by man during His life on earth, could receive, as it were, a temporary allegiance onl}^, for 'the dead cannot praise God, neither any that go down into darkness.' The Soul of Man. God was immortal, man was mortal ; and Physical Religion, such as we found it and defined it, could not throw a bridge over the abyss that separated the two. Real religion, however, requires more than a behef in God, it requires a belief in man also, and in an intimate relation between God and man, at all events in a life to come. There is in man an irrepressible desire for continued existence. It shows itself durino- life in what we may call self-defence. It shows itself at the end of life and at the approach of death, in the hope of immortality. You may remember how it was the chief object of my Lectures on Physical Religion to discover the faint ^ Open Court ^ p, 977. THE DISCOVERY OF THE SOUL. 183 vestiges of that intellectual progress which led the human mind to the formation of a name and concept of God. We saw how that progress began with the simplest perceptions of the great phenomena of nature, and then advanced step by step from what was seen to what was not seen, from what was finite to what w^as not finite, till at last all that was merely phenomenal in the ancient names was dropped, and there remained in the end the one infinite Agent, still called by the old names, but purified from all material dross. As in treating of Physical Religion it was our chief object to watch this genesis of the name and concept of God in the various religions and languages of the ancient world, we shall now have to do the same for what forms the necessary counterpart of God in every religion, namely the human soul, or whatever other name has been given to the infinite, and therefore the immortal element in man. The name of that im- mortal element also was not given to man as a gratuitous gift. It had to be gained, like the name of God, in the sweat of his face. Before man could say that he believed his soul to be immortal, he had to discover that there was a soul in man. He had to shape its name and concept from such materials as were within his grasp, till at last, by a process of abstraction which we found to be inherent in lan- guage, certain names became more and more freed from their material elements, and more and more fitted to express something entirely immaterial, in- visible, infinite, and divine. It required as great an eff*ort to form such a word as anwia, breath, and to make it signify the infinite in man, as to form such a 184 LECTURE VII. word as deva, bright, and to make it signify the infinite in nature. Auimism. You may remember the arguments which I pro- duced against admitting Animism of any kind as a primitive form of rehgious thought. You cannot have animism unless you first have an anima. In order to ascribe an anima, a soul, to anything, be it a stone, or a rag (Fetishism), a sign-post (Totemism), a tree, or a mountain (Animism), man must first have gained the name and concept of anima. If, as we are told, trust in a fetish arose always from ' the doctrine of spirits embodied in, or attached to, or conveying influence through certain material objects,' how can it longer be doubted that fetishism, under all its forms, presupposes a belief in spirits, and that what has really to be accounted for, is how for the first time a spirit was named, conceived, and believed in, not how a spirit was attributed to a stone, a sign-post, or a tree ? The problem therefore Avith which we have to deal at first, is not how man came to believe in the immor- tahty of the soul, but how such a thing as a soul was ever spoken of, how man was supposed to be any- thing but what he was seen to be, how here also behind the finite, something not-finite, or infinite, was perceived or postulated and believed in. Primitive Man. When we try to trace human thought, such as we find it in early language, back to its first beginnings, we ought to make it quite clear to ourselves, that these first beginnings are entirely beyond the reach of THE DISCOVERY OF THE SOUL. 185 what we mean by history. We shall never know what pnmitive man, or what the first man on earth, may have been. When we speak, nevertheless, of primitive man, we mean, and can only mean, man as he is represented to us in his earliest works. We do not mean man while he was emerginor from brutality to humanity, * while he was losing his fur and gaining his intellect,' We leave that to the few biologists who, undeterred by the absence of facts, still profess a belief in the descent of man from some known or unknown animal species ^. Nor do we mean man as known to us by skulls and skeletons only. Here, no doubt, we have to deal with real and most important facts. But the historian leaves these to the ethnologist, not because, as Socrates said of the leaves of trees, they cannot teach him anything, but because the lessons which they teach would only be spoiled, if mixed up with the lessons which concern him more immediately. Even the earliest works of art, the flints and bones and stones, which display clear traces of human handiwork, and ^ Virchow, no mean authority on this question, writes to Haeckel : ' Vous savez que c'est precisement a I'anthropologie que je travaille maintenant avec une predilection tout particuliere. Je dois cepen- dant le declarer, chacun des progres positifs que nous avons faits dans I'anthropologie prehistorique nous a particulierenient, et de plus en plus, eloignes de la preuve de cette parente. . . . Nous devons reellenient reconnaitre qu'aucun des types fossiles ne presente le caractere marque d'un developpement inferieur, Et meme, si nous comparons la somme des fossils humains connus jusqu'ici avec ce que nous offre I'epoque actuelle, nous pouvons hardiment pretendre que parmi les hommes actuellement vivants il existe un beaucoup plus gi-and nombre d'individus relativement inferievirs que parmi les fossils en question. . . . Nous ne pouvons pas considerer comme un fait acquis a la science que I'homme descend du singe ou de tout autre animal.' (Revue scientifique, 1877, p. 542.) Compare with this Mr. Clodd's article in the Neiv Review, July, 1891, p. 19. Surely a challenge from Virchow cannot be ignored ; why then has it never been taken up ? 186 LECTUEE VIT. therefore of human intellect, are outside his special domain, and are better dealt with by the anthro- pologist. The documents from which we study primitive man are contained in language. Whether language was older than anything else, whether the Neanderthal skull was the abode of a speechless man, whether the rudest palaeolithic flints were fashioned by mute workmen, we cannot tell. All we know is that in the world of intellectual beings there can be nothing older than language. With us primitive man means therefore speaking man, and if speaking man, then rational and intelligent man. Materials for our Studies. The historical materials for studying the earliest phases in the growth of man are found in one store only, namely in language, and yet they are enormous, enormous in number, and enormous in age. Remember that English alone contains 250,000 words, and that every one of these words is an ancient chronicle. Remember that English is but one dialect of one branch of one great stem of human speech, and you will see that the students of the history of man will not lack for materials for some time to come. But though there is nothing more ancient than the chronicles contained in every word, let us guard against the absurd idea that even words or roots can ever bring us to the beginning of human thought. All beginnings are by their very nature and by our nature, beyond our ken. But when we come to a stratum of thought and language that is still intel- ligible to us, when we are able to enter into ancient THE DISCOVERY OF THE SOUL. 187 words and concepts, as if we had formed them our- selves, when there is nothing left in them that is irrational and unintelligible, then we may speak of primitive, using the word in the sense of something that, whatever its chronological date may be, requires no antecedents, but has its own beginnings in itself. Poor primitive man has had many things to suffer at the hands of the ethnologist, the linguist, the psychologist. He has been represented on one side as no better than an ape, on the other as a primeval and divinely inspired prophet. We must try to look upon him and to understand him as essentially the same as ourselves, only as moving in different sur- roundings. If from this point of view we ask, how primitive man, or how man in a primitive state of life, came to invent a soul, came to discover that he had, or, that he was a soul, our answer is, look at his language, and try to find out what he called the soul. Names for Soul. To us the two words ' body and soul ' are so familiar that it seems almost childish to ask the question how man at first came to speak of body and soul. It is true also, and, I believe, it has never been contested, that even the lowest savages now living possess words for body and soul. If we take the Tasmanians, a recently extinct race of savages, we find that however much different observers may con- tradict each other as to their intellectual faculties and acquirements, they all agree that they have names for soul and souls, nay, that they all believe in the immortality of the soul. 188 LECTUKE VII. We saw how long it took to frame a name for God. We also saw that man could never have framed such a name, unless nature had taken him by her hand, and made him see something beyond what he saw, in the fire, in the wind, in the sun, and in the sky. The first steps were thus made easy for him. He spoke of the fire that warmed him, of the wind that refreshed him, of the sun that gave him light, and of the sky that was above all things, and by thus simply speak- ing of what they all did for him, he spoke of agents behind them all, and, at last, of an Agent behind and above all the agencies of nature. We shall find that the process which led to the dis- covery of the soul and the framing of names for soul was much the same. There was no conclave of sages who tried to find out whether man had a soul, and what should be its name. If we follow the vestio^es of language, the only true vestiges of all intellectual creations, we shall find that here also man began by naming the simplest and most palpable things, and that here also, by simply dropping what was purely external, he found himself by slow degrees in possession of names which told him of the exist- ence of a soul. What was meant by Soul? But what did he mean by soul? What do we ourselves mean by soul ? Here, you see, our diffi- culties begin, and they are due, as in nearly all philo- sophical questions, to the indiscriminate use of our words. Think of the many meanings which are contained in our word soul, as used in ordinary conversa- THE DISCOVERY OF THE SOUL. 189 tion, and even in philosophical works. Our soul may mean the living soul ; it may mean the sentient soul ; it may mean the soul as the seat of the passions, whether good or bad ; it may mean the soul as the organ of thought ; and lastly, the immortal element in man. It is quite clear that no name could ever have been framed to embrace all these meanings, though in the end all these meanings may cluster round one and the same name. The question, therefore, which we have to ask, is not, how man arrived at a name for soul, but how he came for the first time to think and speak of some- thing different from the body. To a question rightly put, we may expect a right answer. We saw how man was startled, was made to wonder at the wonders of nature, the true miracles presented to him on every side, and how he was led on by the irresistible laws of his mind to look for the workers of these wonders, the agents in these miracles. The Problem of Man. Next to nature, the most startling problem for man was man himself, man seen as coming into the world, living his short life, and then departing. The Lessons of Death. When we say departing, we adopt already a con- clusion which may be quite natural to us, but which was anything but natural to early thinkers. When we speak of the departed, we assume something for which there is no material evidence. What was seen was simply death, cessation of Hfe and activity, a horrible 190 LECTURE VII. corruption of the body, and, at last, a mere handful of dust. If anything could frighten man, could force him to meditate, it was surely death, and we shall see how some of the most important and most per- manent ingredients of the intellectual life of the world were supplied, the first time, by the aspect of death. When a friend who in every respect had been exactly like themselves, was suddenly seen by those who knew and loved him, prostrate, without motion, without sight, without speech, the simplest process of reasoning, a mere adding and subtracting of perceptions, would teach the bystanders that some- thing that was formerly there was there no longer. Something had gone. Blood as Life. What then was that which had departed ? If a man had been killed, and the blood was seen pouring away from his wound^ it was the most natural con- clusion that the blood had left him, and, with it, life. Hence the Avell-known expression, ' the blood is the life,' which we find not only in Hebrew and in the Bible (Deut. xii. !23), but in other languages also, and which became the source of ever so many religious and superstitious acts. Homer uses the two expres- sions, the blood ran down from the wound (II. xvii. 86), and the life (v/'i'x^/) ^'^^ down from the wound (II. xiv. 518), almost synonymously. Kritias, a Greek philosopher quoted by Aristotle (De Anima, i. 2, 19), declared that the soul was the blood. The Arabic expression; 'The soul fiows (from his wound),' instead THE DISCOVEKY OF THE SOUL. 191 of ' he dies,' shows that the Arab also believed the blood to be the life or soul of man. We have no time to enter on the question whether people who said the blood is the life, meant also that the life is the bloody so that the two words would be entirely synonymous ; or whether they had formed an independent idea of life, and meant simply to say that life was in the blood and depended on it. The difference is considerable, but it hardly affects the superstitions which arose from that ancient belief. The Jews were forbidden to eat or drink the blood, and they gave a reason for it which is of a religious character. The blood, they said, was the life, and the life belonged to God. Hence the blood was to be poured out upon the altar of the Lord, but not to be eaten. Among savage nations, on the contrary, the idea is very prevalent that in drinking the blood of an enemy, his life, his strength, and his courage were absorbed by the living. Another widely-spread custom is the drinking of blood, as the highest sanction of a promise or a treaty. Herodotus (iii. 8) alludes to this custom as existing in Arabia, and how long it prevailed and how firmly it was established we may gather from the fact that Mohammed had to forbid it as one of the heavy sins, — idolatry, neglect of duties towards parents, murder, and the blood-oath ^. Stanley found the old custom still prevailing in Central Africa. ' After making marks,' he writes, ' in each other's arms and exchanging blood, there was a treaty of peace as fii-m, I thought, as any treaty of peace made in Europe.' ^ Kremer, Studien zur vergleichenden CulturgescMchte, p. 35. 192 LECTUKE vir. I feel convinced, however, whatever anthropologists may say to the contrary, that the evidence of the senses was as strong with ancient people as it is with ourselves. When they saw how after a time blood became putrid and offensive, they could hardly con- tinue to believe that what had departed at death was simply the blood. The Heart. What applies to the blood, applies to a certain extent to the heart also. As the heart ceased to beat at death, we find in many languages that heart is used in the sense of life and soul. The eating of the heart of an enemy \ nay even of his eyes, was some- times supposed to produce the same effect as the drinking of an enemy's blood -. Some languages ^ use the same word for the beating of the heart, for the pulse, and for the soul. But they can distinguish perfectly well between the actual heart, and heart as a name of the soul. We must keep this distinction in mind, if we wish, for instance, to understand the answers given by the Indians of Nicaragua to Bobadilla ^. They stated ^ 'Among certain of the mountain tribes (of South Africa") there is a curious custom regai-ding an enemy who falls after displaying considerable bravery. They immediately cut out his heart and eat it. This is supposed to give them his courage and strength in battle,* (Rev. J. Macdonald, Journal of the Anthropological Institute, vol. xx, p. 137.) ^ ' Some ^vl•iters have fancied that the idea prevails among the Blacks of Australia that the man who partakes of such food acquires the strength of the deceased in addition to his own ; but I have never been able to verify tliis statement, nor do I believe it.' (Curr, The Australian Bace, vol. i. p. 77.) ^ Kremer, 1. c, p. 40. * Tylor, Primitive Culture, i. p. 390. Oviedo, Hist, du Nicaragua, pp. 21-51. Spencer, 1. c, p. 190. I must confess to some misgivings as to the trustworthiness of Bobadilla. THE DISCOVERY OF THE SOUL. 193 that ' when they die, there comes out of their mouth something that resembles a person, and is called julio (Aztec yidi means 'to live'). This being goes to a place where the man and the woman are. It is like a person^ but does not die, and the body remains here.' The following dialogue took place between a Chris- tian and a native of Nicaraofua : Question : ' Do those who go up on high keep the same body, the same face, and the same limbs, as here below ? ' Ansiver : '■ No ; there is only the heart.' Question : ' But since they tear out their hearts (i.e. when a captive was sacrificed), what happens then ? ' Ansiver : ' It is not precisely the heart, but that in them which makes them live, and that quits the body when they die.' x^nd again : ' It is not their heart that goes up above, but what makes them live, that is to say, the breath that issues from their mouth and is called julio.' We can understand that the blood and the heart should have been supposed to have something to do with the living soul during life. But after death that which had lived could hardly have been sought there, as little as in the flesh or in the bones. Other nations placed the seat of life or the living soul in other organs^ such as the liver, the kidneys, or in the chest, and in the diaphragm which surrounded the most important internal organs. But all these were perishable, and it was difficult to believe that what had departed at death, and what by its de- parture had produced the tremendous change from (3) 0 194 LECTUEE YII. life to death, could be identified with these decaying organs. It is curious that the brain, which in modern lan- guages is so frequently used as the seat of the thinking soul, should have played so insignificant a part in the intellectual nomenclature of the ancient world. It is hardly ever mentioned as a name of the soul. Breath. We enter into quite a different stage of language and thought when we come to deal with breath as a name of soul, or, more correctly, as a name which, by a very natural development, or divestment, came to mean soul in its various applications. Breath van- ished at death, but it did not perish before the eyes of people, like the blood, or the heart. No doubt, the actual breathing, the most certain sign of life, ceased at death. With the breath life was seen to have departed. To exjnre, to breathe out (uz-anan) became in many languages one of the most common expressions for to die. But in the case of breath a question arose very naturally, namely, what had become of the breath which was formerly in the body ; — where it was, and what it was. Breath did not putrefy before their eyes, and nothing led to the conclusion that it had actually perished. Another great advantage was that language could distinguish between the act of breath- ing and that which breathed, the former the life, as an act, the latter the soul, as an agent, or a living subject. This distinction was most important, as we shall see, in all its consequences. THE DISCOYEET OF THE SOUL. 195 Here, then, we may discover the first and very natural suggestion arising in men's minds, that the breath which had departed at the moment of death was something different from the dead body, different from the putrid blood, different from the decaying heart, and from the dissolving brain. We must remember, however, that with the breath, not only life, but all that constituted the man himself, his thoughts, his feelings, his language, had departed, and that therefore the conclusion was not unnatural that the breath had carried away with itself all that constituted the very being of man. When people said, his breath has departed, they could not help saying at the same time that his thoughts, his feelings, in fact, all that belonged to the individual man, had departed. We can thus understand how the words which originally meant breath, real;, tangible breath, supplied the first material that was shaped in time into words meaning soul in its widest sense. Soul after Death. And here we can watch at once another step. If it is true that the discovery of the soul was made, not so much during life, when body and soul were almost indistinguishable, but at the time of death, when the breath, and all that was implied by that word, had departed from the body, the question could hardly be avoided, whither that breath had gone. To us the idea of annihilation, though it is really an idea inconceivable to any human mind, has become quite familiar. Not only among a certain class of philosophers, but even among uneducated people, the thought of man being utterly destroyed or annihi- 0 2 196 LECTURE VII. lated by death is by no means uncommon. But to unsophisticated minds the thought that a man who but yesterday was, like ourselves, eating, drinking, working, fighting, should have utterly perished, was almost impossible to grasp. It was far more natural to suppose that he continued to exist somewhere and somehow, though the where and the how were unknown, and had to be left to the imagination. Imagination, however, was more busy in ages of comparative ignorance than in our days, and if the expression had once been used, ' our father's breath has fled,' that would soon grow into the expression that his spirit had fled, that he himself had departed from his house, and had gone where all spirits had gone before him, to a world of spirits. This is a very general outline of a process which, under varj'ing forms, we can trace almost everywhere, among uncivilised and among civilised people, and which has led to a belief, first, in something in man diflferent from his body, call it breath, or spirit, or soul ; and secondly, to a belief in the existence of disembodied spirits, to a belief in immortality, and to a large number of acts intended to keep up the memory of the departed, to secure their favour, to escape their anger, till in the end they were raised to an exalted position, second only to that of the immortal gods. Words for Soul. The principal, if not the only evidence which we can produce in support of the theory just propounded, is naturally taken from language. But the ancient archives of language are often very difficult to THE DISCOVEKY OF THE SOUL. 197 decipher. It is particularly difficult to watch the growth of meaning in the ancient words for soul, because most of them become known to us at a time when they had passed already through various stages, and had been more or less arbitrarily restricted in their meanings. They generally convey at the same time the ideas of mere breath, of vital breath, and of understanding. Whether they are used by certain writers in one sense or the other is often a question of idiomatic usage only, while in the end there generally arise learned discussions as to the exact meaning in which each term ought or ought not to be used. Words for Soul in Hebrew. Let us look at some of the words for soul in Hebrew. The distinction between the body and a something that gives life to it was familiar to the Jews from the earliest times ^. Body was the flesh, ib'Zi, basar. Hence ' all flesh ' meant everybody, every living being, and 'my flesh' was used for I myself. The flesh, as active and living, was opposed on one side to what is without life, stones or bones ; on the other side, as being mortal, weak, and perishing, it was distinguished from what is eternal and im- perishable, God and the soul. The question then arises, how did the Jews call that which was not the body ? They called it by different names, and these names had at first a very vague and undefined meaning, so that they are often used one in place of the other. To attempt to define ^ See H. Schultz, Alttestamentliche Theologie, p. 622. 198 LECTURE VII. these words strictly is a mistake, though at a later time the Jews themselves tried to define their old vague terms. One of these words is n^"i, riiach, which means originally what moves, either the wind or the breath. As thunder was called the voice of God, the storm was conceived as His breath. This riiach in man is life, given by God and returning to God. It is used for man's breath, but not for breath only, but likewise for what we mean by soul, for we read of the riiach being embittered, cast down, and grieved, or being revived and glad. Another word, HD^J, neshamah, has nearly the same meaning. It is used for the vital breath which every creature has received from God, and likewise for the creature that breathes and lives. Thus, when we read in Genesis ii. 7, that ' the Lord God formed man of the dust of the ground, and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life : and man became a living soul,' the word neshamah is clearly conceived as breath coming from God, and as giving not only life, but also what we mean by soul, the latter being impos- sible without the former. A third word also, K'sj, nephesh, does not seem from the beginning to have had a very different meaning. But it soon came to be used for the individual soul rather than for life and spirit in general. Nephesh is the living soul, the self-conscious soul. Hence it is the nephesh that loves and hates, that is glad and sorrow- ful, and ' my nephesh ' is a very common expression for I myself. We meet with such expressions as ' my soul lives,' ' my soul dies,' and even the dead is still called a nephesh. But to say in every passage where THE DISCOVERY OF THE SOUL. 199 nephesh occurs, whether it was meant for breath or life or soul is impossible. When Elijah prayed over the dead child, he said : ' O Lord my God, I pray thee, let this child's soul come into his inward parts again.' 'And the Lord heard the voice of Elijah, and the soul of the child came unto him again, and he revived.' Here (1 Kings xvii. 21) the soul may be meant for mere breath, the actual breath, just as we say that a drowned person has been reanimated by breathing into his lungs. But it may also mean the soul as given by God and returning to God at the time of death . We saw that this soul is sometimes said to be in the blood, or to be the blood. And like the blood, the heart also, leb, is conceived as the seat of the soul, or is used synonymously with soul. Not only feelings and passions, but the conscience also, nay reason and understanding, dwell in the heart. Hence we read of a pure heart, of a new heart. We read (Hos. vii. 11) of Ephraim being 'like a silly dove without heart,' that is, without understanding. We see here the same wealth of expression which we generally meet with in ancient languages. The same thing is called by different names, according to some characteristic mark that strikes the speaker. These names, being at first almost synonymous, become gradually differentiated by usage, till the time comes when they are defined more or less arbitrarily by grammarians, philosophers, or theologians ^. ^ In later times the Jewish Eabbis defined the different names of soul more accurately, but also more arbitrarily. They tell us (Midrash Genes. Eabba, cap. 14 ad fin,") that there are in man five spiritual potentiae, each having its own name. They are (1) ^^2, the vital power ; (2) rVD, the vital spirit ; (3) r\12^2, conscious- 200 LECTUKE VII. What is important for us to observe is the fact that the original meaning of all these words was material. The idea of life was borrowed from blood, from heart, from breath, and that idea included in time not only- physical life, but feeling, sensuous perception, and understanding, nay soul itself, as a self-conscious and personal, if not immortal, being. There are other ex- pressions in Hebrew which start from even more material beginnings, and end by meaning the soul or the self. Thus when the Psalmist (vi. 3 seq., xvi. 9) speaks of ' my bones,'' ' my body,^ he means, not his bones or his body only, but his soul, his self, and he has entirely forgotten the material meaning of the words which he is using. Words for Soul in Sanskrit. It is curious that the ancient lano-uao-e of India which generally allows us so clear an insight into the earliest history of words, should tell us so little by its names for soul or spirit. The best known word for soul is atm an. But unfor- tunately its etymology is doubtful. It has been derived from AN, to breathe, a root which has yielded many words for wind, breath, soul, and mind. Thus we find in Sanskrit an-ila, wind, also an-ala, fire; in Greek av-ejjLo^, wind ; in Latin an-ima, air, wind, breath, but also life, soul, and even mind, and an- imus, soul and mind. But an -|- man would not give atm an, nor should it be forgotten that in the Veda we find tman also for atm an. Others have thought of the ness ; (4) n^lTT', and (5^ nTl, the two Inst being in the Bible epithets only of the soul. See an important article by Kohut, in Zeitschrift iyaka still further back. However, though there is some force in this argument, we must not forget that India is a large country, and that an old law maj^ have existed in the North- West and among the martial nobility, which was unknown among the Brahmans of Aryavarta at a much later date. We are told, for instance, in the A'//andogya- upanishad, VIII. 8, 5, that the so-called A suras had their own form of burial, that they ' decked out the body of the dead with perfumes, flowers, and fine raiment by way of ornament, and thought thus to conquer the next world.' We find a more detailed description of a Vedic funeral in the Sutras of A-svalayana. Without claim- ing for this description a very primitive character or FUNERAL CEREMONIES. 241 an extravagant age, we must remember that, even if it presents to us what a funeral was at about 600 b. c, we have nothing more ancient in any other Aryan literature. It was in the year 1855 that I published in the journal of the German Oriental Society, the text and translation of the Sutras of Asvalayana. I shall here give you an abstract of them. If it was death that made man conscious for the first time of life, we have a right to expect that the acts of men in the presence of death will disclose to us some- thing of what passed through his mind at that solemn moment. It is true that when these acts become known to us they have almost ceased to be real acts, and have become mere customs, half-understood tradi- tions, nay often, misunderstood ceremonial. Stilb we may discover in them some relics of what is ancient, for there is in customs, as in language, an unbroken continuity. Much may be changed, but little is entii'ely thrown away. Funeral Ceremonies in India. I shall begin with a description of the funeral ceremonies in India, as preserved to us in the Ara^i- yakas and Sutras, both still belonging to the Vedic period of literature. Asvalayana- sutras IV. 1 : * If some one who has set up the sacred fires (in his own house) begins to ail, he should depart (with his fires) towards the east, the north, or the north-east. People say, the fires love the village, and hence it is understood that longing and desirous to return (to the village), they will make him whole. If he is well (3) R 242 LECTUKE IX. again, he should sacrifice with Soma or with an animal, and settle down again in his house, or also without such a sacrifice.' Here you have an old piece of fo]k-lore. First of all, a proverb — ' the fires love the village.'' Here we need hardly think of the fires as divine beings, though such sayings contain, no doubt, the germs of mytho- logy. We ourselves might say just the same, without being in any sense fire-worshippers, or even believers in Agni. Secondly, the proverb leads to a supersti- tion. Because the fires love their village, therefore, if you take them away with you, they will try to make you return to their home and to their hearth, and in order to induce a sick person to return home, they will make him whole. Then the Sutra continues : * If he dies, let some one have a piece of land dug up, south-east or south-west (of the village), inclining to- wards the south or the south-east ; others say, towards the south-west. It should be as long as a man with outstretched arms, one fathom (vyama) in breadth, and one span (vitasti) in depth.' Here there is nothing to remark, except the names of the ancient measures. What Protagoras said in a philosophical sense, is true in a material sense also. Man was the measure of all things. One measure is the man with his arms lifted up, the other a vyama, as much as a man can embrace with his two arms, five aratnis or ells ^, as the commentator explains it. The ^ Ell, Germ. EJle, 0. H. G. elina, wKh-q, ulna, all point to a common source, probably to the root AR, from which we have dp-Opov, ar-tus, joint, literally, what moves. Sk. ar-atni, fore-arm, and Goth. arms may come from the same root. Five aratnis make a vyama, Germ. Klafter. FUNERAL CEREMONIES. 243 next is vitasti\ the outstretched hand, or twelve fingers. ' The place (smasana) should be free on all sides and rich in plants. If they should be thorny and milky, let it be as said before. One requirement of a burning ground (smasana) is that the water should run down from it on all sides.' The place is the cemetery, but it is the place both for burning and afterwards for burying also. /S'masana is one of those old words in Sanskrit, the origin and formation of which we cannot explain. They must have been formed of materials which exist no longer in the language, such as we know it. Why thorny and milky plants should be removed, is not explained. In a former passage (II. 7, 5) it had been said that in building a house a man should clear the ground of thorny and milky plants. This is in- telligible, but for burning purposes thorny plants would have been useful, and they were often preferred for constructing a pile ^. ' What has to be done with the hair of the head, the beard, and the hair of the body, has been explained before (>Srauta-sutra VI. 10, 2). There should be a full supply of sacrificial grass and of butter. Then they pour clarified butter into curds, which makes the sprinkled butter for the Fathers.' Certain rules as to how the dead body should be treated before it is taken to the place of burning had been given in the >SVauta-sutras, the rules for the >S'rauta or great sacrifices. Burial does not properly ^ Vitas ti is explained as the measure from the joint of the hand to the top of the fingers, and as equal to twelve fingers, or aiigulas, the angula again being defined as equal to eight barley-corns. ^ Grimm, I)as Verhrennen der Leichen, p. 21, &c. K2 244 LECTURE IX. fall under the /S'rauta, but under the G?'^hya or domestic sacrifices. But it may happen that a man dies while offering one of these great sacrifices. This is considered as an accident, just as the breaking of a sacrificial vessel, and has to be remedied. Certain rules had therefore to be inserted in order to explain what should be done with the dead body of the sacrificer, if he should die before the sacrifice is finished. ' When he dies they take him out on the sacrificial path (or^ according to others, not on the sacrificial path), and perform the adornments of the dead in the place where the sacrificial vessels are cleaned. They shave the hair of the head, the beard^ and the hair of the body. They anoint him with spikenard and put on him a wreath of spikenard. Some clear the body of its contents and fill it Avith sprinkled butter. They then cut oflT the seam of a new piece of cloth, and cover the body so that the other seam is turned to- wards the west, and the feet remain uncovered. The sons should keep the piece that has been cut ofiT,' All these rules should be observed at the time of an ordinary funeral also, but as they had been learnt by heart before, they need not be repeated here ^. The ceremony now proceeds, IV. 2 : ' They now carry his fires and his sacrificial vessels to the same place. The old people follow with the dead, in odd numbers, and not in couples (i. e. not men and women together). Some say (that the dead should be carried) on a car drawn by cows. Some lead an animal behind (the anustara^ii, that is to be burnt with the dead), a cow, or a she-goat, of one ^ See Appendix VI, Note I. FUNEKAL CEEEMONIES. 245 colour, or, according to some, a black one, after having tied a rope to its left fore-foot (bahu for bahau). Then follow the relatives (amatya), wearing their sacri- ficial thread below (round the body), with their hair- locks untied, the old men first, the young ones last ^. 'When they have thus reached the place, the performer walks three times round the spot with his left side turned towards it, sprinkles water on it with a >S^ami branch, and says : * Go away, disperse, remove from hence, The Fathers have made this place for him. Yama grants him this resting-place, Sprinkled with water day and night/ This is a verse which is found in the Rig-veda, X. 14^ 9. It is supposed to be addressed to spirits hover- ing round the place of burial. Yama, as we shall see, is the god of the fathers, and he is supposed to have assigned this place to the dead person as his final rest- ing-place. When it is said that the place is sprinkled with water day and night, this implies that it ought to be thus honoured by the relations of the dead. * He then places the fires on an elevated corner, the Ahavaniya-fire to the south-east, the Garhapatya-fire to the north-west, and the Dakshi'Jia-fire to the south- west. ' Thereupon a person who understands it, piles up between the fires a pile of fuel for him. After the sacrificial grass and the skin of a black antelope with the hair outside have been spread over this, they place the dead on it, taking him north of the Garhapatya- fire, and with his head turned towards the Ahavaniya- fire. Noi-th of him (they place) his wife, and for a ^ See Appendix VI, Note 2. 246 LECTURE IX. Ksliatriya the bow. Then her brother-in-law, stand- ing in the place of her husband, or a pupil, or an old servant, should make her rise, reciting the verse (Rv. X. 18, 8) : ' Rise, O woman ; come to the world of the living ; thou liest by him whose breath is gone, come back ! Thou hast fulfilled this thy wifehood to him who took thy hand and made thee a mother ^' 'If an old servant (a iSudra) makes her rise, the performer should repeat this verse. He then removes the bow, saying (Rv. X. 18, 9): ' I take the bow from the hand (of the dead), to be to us protec- tion, glory, and strength. Thou art there, we are here with good men ; let us overcome all the wiles of the enemy.' ' If it is a >Sfudra, the same applies as before. After he has stringed the bow, he should walk round the pile, break it, and throw it (on the pile).' These rules are full of interest, but also of difficulty. What is quite clear is that in Vedic times the widow, though she was placed for a time near her husband on the pile, was not burnt with him. Nothing can be clearer than the words of the verse when she is asked to return to the world of the living. Yet, with all their regard for the divine authority of the Veda, the Brahmans tried to explain it away, and to change the world of the Living into the world of the dead. That the old servant is not allowed to recite the Vedic verses, shows that these rules date from a time when the Brahmans had secured already the exclusive privilege of the three upper classes, so that no ^ Rajendralal Mitra translates the second half of the verse by : ' become the wife of him who holds thy hand and is willing to marry thee.' FUNERAL CEREMONIES. 247 Sudrsi was allowed to learn the Veda by heart. The word used, however, in the text is not /Sudra, but Vrishala. The second half of the verse is not quite clear, but I believe my translation is the right one. We should observe that the bow given to the dead, if he is a Kshatriya, is broken before it is burnt. It was, therefore, a mere gift, and the idea, that he might have to use it in the next world, seems not to have presented itself to the Indian mind. Then follow special regulations (IV. 3) as to how the various sacrificial implements should be placed on the different parts of the dead body. These again show a considerable development of the Brahmanic ceremonial, but are otherwise of little interest. That the Vedic Indians with all their devotion to the dead were thrifty, may perhaps be gathered from the fact that the two mill-stones, and all that is made of copper, iron, and earthenware is kept by the son, who is here mentioned for the first time. There may, however, have been another reason, namely, the fact that these things were not combustible. Then follow rules as to how the animal should be dissected and how again different portions of it should be placed on different parts of the dead body. ' After cutting out the omentum of the Anustara?ii, (the animal that had been brought to the pile) he should cover the head and mouth with it, saying (Rv. X. 16, 7): * Put on this armour against Agni (fire), (taken) from the cows ; cover thyself with their fat and marrow, that the fierce Agni, re- joicing in his glare, the bold one, may not, when he flares up, injure thee.' 248 LECTURE IX. 'Having taken out the kidneys, he should lay them into his hands, saying (Rv. X. 14, 10) : ' On the good path lain past the two dogs, the brood of Sarama, the four-eyed, the grey ; then go towards the wise Pitns who are happily rejoicing with Yama.' Here we enter on mythological ground. It is quite clear that the dead is supposed to proceed on a good or right path till he reaches the Pitivs, the fathers, who have died before him. On that path he has to run past two dogs. These dogs are called sarameya, according to the Brahmans_, the sons of Sarama, four- eyed, and grey or dark. Now it is well known that the Greeks also believed that the entrance of the realm of Hades was guarded by a dog, a dog with several heads, called Kerberos by Hesiod. The idea itself is natural enough. Their houses were probably guarded by a dog or dogs, there- fore why not the house of the Pit^'^'s ? Still we should remember that this watch-dog has a name in Greece, Kerberos, and that the Greek language supplies no etymology and no meaning of that word. If then it can be proved that sarvari is a name of the night, can there be any possible doubt that the Greek word K€pl3€pos is the same as the Sanskrit yarvara. I hold the original meaning of sarvara to have been dark, like the night, not speckled, and as sarvara has become savara in certain words, I hold that s aba la, the adjective applied to the two dogs of Yama, meant originally dark or grey, like the night. This identification is so perfectly simple and clear and unobjectionable that it has been accepted by the severest critics ^. But a small acquaintance with ^ Aufrecht, ItuUsche Studien, iv. p. 342. FUNERAL CEREMONIES. 249 phonetic rules is certainly required in order to see the force of the argument, and we must not be surprised if writers, ignorant of the Sanskrit alphabet and of the invariable correspondence between Sk. palatal s and Greek k, express a learned doubt as to the identity of sarvara and kerberos. Every letter is simply the same in the two words, and if we are to doubt this equation, we may as well doubt the equation of Sk. ma tar and Lat. mater. Asvalayana then continues, IV. 4 : ' The heart of the animal is placed on the heart of the dead, and two rice-cakes, according to some ; according to others, only when the kidneys are absent. 'Having thus distributed the whole animal, limb by limb, and having covered it with its hide, he recites, while the Prarata water is carried forward, the following verse (X. 16, 8) : ' Agni, do not hurt this cup, which is dear to the gods and to the Somyas (the Fathers). It is that which the gods drink, and in which the immortal gods delight.' ' Bending his left knee he should sacrifice %ya- oblations (clarified butter) in the Dakshi??a fire, say- iiig : " Svaha to Agni ! Svaha to Kama (love) ! Svaha to the world ! Svaha to Anumati ! " ' A fifth oblation (is to be poured) on the chest of the deceased, with the verse : ' Thou (Agni) hast verily been born from him, may he (N. N.) now be born from thee. Svaha to the heaven- world ^ ! ' ' He now gives the word of command, " Light the fires together ! " If the Ahavaniya-fire reaches him ^ This verse is not in the Rig-veda, and is therefore given in full in the Sutra. See Ykg. Sawih. XXXV. 22 ; Satap.-Brahm. II. 3, 3, 5 ; XII. 5, 2, 15. 250 LECTURE IX. first, he should know that it has brought him to the Svarga-world (heaven). He will prosper there, and this, his son, here on earth. ^ If the Garhapatya-fire reaches him first, he should know that it has brought him to the Antariksha- world (air). He will prosper there, and this, his son, here on earth. ' If the DakshiTia-fire reaches him first, he should know that it has brought him to the Manushya world (the world of men). He will prosper there, and this, his son, here on earth. ' If the three fires reach him at the same moment, they call it the highest luck. 'While the body is being burnt, he recites the following verses in the same way as described before ^ : 'Rig-vedaX. 14, 7 ; 8 ; 10 ; 11. ' Go forth, go forth on those ancient paths on which our fore- fathers departed. Thou shalt see the two kings delighting in Svadha, Yama and the god Varuwa. ' Come together with the Pitr/s, and with Yama in the highest heaven, as the fulfilment of all desires. Having left all that is un- speakable (sin), go home again, and radiant in thy body come together with them. ' On the good path run past the two dogs, the brood of Sarama, the four-eyed, the grey ; then go towards the wise Pitrts, who are liappily rejoicing with Yama. ' Protect him, O king, from those two dogs, which are thy watchers, O Yama, the four-eyed guardians of the road, spying for men. Grant him happiness and health ! ' ' Rig-veda X. 16, 1-6. ' Do not burn him altogether, 0 Agni, do not scorch him, do not confound his skin and his body ; when thou shalt have cooked him, O Gatavedas, then send him forth to the Pitr/s. ' As soon as thou cookest him, O Gatavedas, thou shouldst hand him over to the Pitrjs. As soon as he enters that life, he will become the servant of the gods. ' May the eye go to the sun, the breath to the wind ; go to the sky ^ As described in Srauta-sutras VI. 10, 19: see note in Z.D.M.G. FUNERAL CEREMONIES. 251 and the earth, as is right, or go to the waters, if it is good for thee there, rest in the plants. ' The unborn part ^, warm it with thy warmth, may thy heat warm it and thy flame ! 0 Gatavedas, carry him in thy kindliest shape to the world of those who have done well. ' O Agni, send him back to the Pitns, he who comes sacrificed with offering to thee ! When clothed with life, may what remains ^ come back, may he be joined with a body, O Gatavedas ! ' Whatever the black bird injured, the ant, the snake, or a wild beast, may Agni make that whole from all (mischief), and Soma who has entered into the Brahmans ! ' 'Rig-vedaX. 17,3-6. ' May Pushan carry thee hence, the provident shepherd of the world, who never lost an animal ; may he deliver thee to those Pitns, and Agni to the wise gods ! ' Ayu (life), the all-enlivening, will guard thee ; may Pushan guard thee in front at the outset. May th« god Savitri place thee where the good people dwell and whither they have gone. ' Pushan knows all those places ; may he lead us on the safest path ! May he, the knowing, walk in front without faltering, he who gives blessings, the brilliant, the great hero ! ' Pushan was born at the outset of the roads, at the outset of the sky, at the outset of the earth ; he, the wise, walks to and fro to the two best homesteads.' 'Rig-vedaX. 18,10-13. ' Creep close to the mother, that earth there, the broad, the all- embracing, the blissful ! She is like a maiden, soft like wool to the pious ; may she guard thee from the lap of Nirrrti (destruction). ' O Earth, open wide, do not press him, be kind in admitting and in embracing him ! Cover him, 0 Earth, as a mother covers her son with her cloth. ' May the opened earth stand firm, and may a thousand supports stand near ; may these dwellings be running with ghr/ta-offerings, and may there always be safety for him there 1 1 I retain my translation of ago bhagas, the immortal part, because, after the poet has said how the material portions of the body go to the sun, the wind, the earth, the water, and the trees, he now speaks of what survives. The translation, ' the he-goat is (thy) portion,' is impossible, first, because it is a she-goat, not a he- goat, that may be offered as anustararii ; secondly, because, if one portion is especially assigned to Agni, the pronoun cannot be left out. There is no doubt, however, that from a very early date, ago hhagah was taken in the sense of : ' the goat is thy share.' ^ I take sesha as a masculine, the rest, what remains of him. The word does not occur again as a masculine in the Rig-veda, but all other translations are impossible. 252 LECTURE IX. ' I raise up the earth all around thee, may I not hurt thee in putting down this slab ; may the Pitr/s hold this cairn of thine ; may Yama there make seats for thee.' ' Kig-veda X. 154, 1-5. 'For some ^Pitns) Soma is clarified, some sit down to cream (ghnta) ; those also for whom honey runs, — may he go to them indeed ! ' They who are unapproachable by their penance, they who went to heaven by penance, they who performed penance mightily, to those also may he go indeed ! ^ They who fight in battle, the heroes who lost their life, or they who gave a thousand gifts, to those also may he go ! ' And they who formerly followed the right, who did the right, and increased the right, to those also may he go, 0 Yama, to the Pitns rich in penance ! 'The poets of a thousand lays, they who guard the sun, the J?/shis rich in penance, 0 Yama, may he go to them, the sons of penance ! ' ' Rig-veda X. 14, 12. 'The two messengers of Yama, broad-nosed, blood-thirsty, and tawny, go about among men ; may they grant us again happy life here, so that we may see the sun ! ' ' If a man is burnt by some one who knows all this, it is understood (from the >Sruti) that together with the smoke he goes to the Svarga-world. ' North-east of the Ahavaniya-fire he should dig a pit, knee-deep, and deposit in it an Avaka, that is, a water-plant, called /Sipala. For it is understood from the /Sruti that the deceased, when he comes out thence, will go with the smoke to the world of Svarga.' It would take a long time to bring out all that is contained in these verses. Unfortunately, we do not know whether they originally succeeded each other as we now read them. It seems as if they had been taken from different hymns as they suited certain portions of the funeral ceremony. But other scholars would probably say that they were written originally rUNERAL CEREMONIES. 253 for the funeral, and afterwards worked up into hymns. The decision is difficult, perhaps impossible, but I incline towards regarding the succession of the verses, as they stand in the hymns of the Kig-veda as more original than their order in the Sutras. What we learn from the verses as I have just trans- lated them, is that the departed, the Pit^'is, the Fathers, have gone to a realm of Yama and VaruTia, in the highest heaven. Nothing is said of their going to a lower world. The dead in being burnt, is supposed to follow the old path of the Pit7*z's, to be guided by Pushan, Savitri, and Agni, to pass the two watch- dogs, to escape from the lap of Nir'?'^ti, and to arrive in the world of the pious^ to become the servant of the gods. The process of burning is not supposed to destroy the body altogether, but only to warm or to cook it, and thus prepare it for a new life with a new body. The elements are supposed to return to the elements, the eye to the sun, the breath to the wind. But, if my translation is right, an unborn or eternal part is mentioned, and this part Agni is asked to carry gently to the world of the good. So far there is a thread that may be followed. But immediately after, the earth is invoked to receive the dead, as a mother receives her child, and to keep him from the lap of Nir>'^ti or destruction. The grave is spoken of as the resting-place of the dead, and Yama is said to have prepared a seat for him there. It is the same everywhere. There can be no con- sistency where everybody has a right to express his own imaginations, as if they were real, and his wishes, as if they had been fulfilled. 254 LECTURE IX. We now proceed to consider the ceremonies which follow the actual burning of the corpse. The corpse is as yet left on the pile, but the idea evidently is, not that it should be completely reduced to ashes, but that it should be warmed, roasted, and made ready for a new life, and that any injury it may have suffered should be made good by Agni. ' They now turn to the left, and go away without looking back, reciting the verse (Ev. X. 18, 3) : ' These living people have turned away from the dead, the sacrifice of the gods was auspicious for us to-day. We went forth to dance and laughter, we who continue a longer life.' ' When they have come to a place where there is standing water, they dive once, throw up one handful of water, pronounce the name of the deceased and his family (gotra), go out from the water, put on new garments^ wring the others once, spread them out to- wards the north, and then sit down till they see the stars, or the sun. ' When the sun has been seen \ they may return home ; the young should go first, the old last -. ' When they have come to their dwelling, they touch a stone, the fire^ cow-dung, fried barley-corns, oil, and water. 'They should not cook food during that night. They should live on what has been bought or what is there. For three nights they should not eat anything pungent and salt. They may also for twelve nights ^ I have followed Dr. Winternitz in referring adityasya va to a nakshatradarsanat. The option of waiting for the appearance of the Nakshatras, or waiting the whole night till the sun is sren, is con- firmed by Paraskara, III. 10, 35. Kajendralal Mitra translates : They sit down till the stars are seen ; according to others, they do not go home before sunrise. ^ See Appendix VI, Note 3. FUNEKAL CEREMONIES. 255 omit almsgiving and study (of the Veda), if one of theii' great Gurus (father, mother, or teacher) has died ; or for ten nights, if one of their near relations (Sapi^i- dsis) has died, or the guru, if unrelated, or unmarried female relatives, or a child that has no teeth, or a deadborn child ; or for one day, if a fellow-pupil has died, or any learned Brahman of the same village.' We now come to a new ceremony, namely, the gathering of the bones. The corpse is supposed to have been left on the pile, covered with the sacrificial implements of the deceased. ' The collection of the bones takes place after the tenth day (after death), on odd days of the dark fort- night, and under a single Nakshatra ^' This would mean that ten days must have passed, first of all, after the day on which the death took place, and that then they must wait for the dark fort- night and for an odd day in it ^. ' A man is placed into an urn (kumbha, masc.) without any marks, a woman into an urn (kumbhi, fem., an urn with a spout, according to Rajendralal Mitra) without any marks. It is done by old people of an odd number, and without their wives. ' Then the performer walks three times round the place turning his left to it, and with a >S'ami branch ^ A Nakshatra with one name, not therefore under the Ashar/Aas, Phalgunis, or Prosh^/«apadas. ^ There has evidently been much difference of opinion on this point among the Brahmans, Some, such as Vishnu, XIX. 10-12, fix the gathering of the bones on the fourth day, and prescribe that they should be thrown into the Ganges. This seems a later rule. Naraya)ia explains the Sutra so that it should mean, ' on any odd day after the tenth day of the dark fortnight,' i.e. on the 11th, 13th, or 15th day of the waning moon. Bodhayana enjoins the 3rd, 5th, or 7th from the day of cremation. 256 LECTURE IX. sprinkles milk and water on it, reciting a verse, Rv. X. 16, 4. ' They should put each bone (into the urn) with the thumb and the fourth finger, without rattling them, the feet first, the head last. Having well gathered them, and swept them together with a broom, they should put (the urn) into the pit, where the water does not run together from all sides except in the rainy season, and recite the verse, Rv. X. 18, 10 : 'Creep close to the mother, that earth there, the broad, the all-embracing, the blissful ! She is like a maiden, soft like wool to the pious ; may she guard thee from the lap of Nirriti (destruc- tion).' ' With the following verse, Rv. X. 18, 11, he should throw earth (into the pit) : ' 0 Earth, open wide, do not press him, be kind in admitting, and in embracing him, cover him, 0 Earth, as a mother covers her son with her cloth.' ' After he has thrown the earth, he should recite the next verse, Rv. X. 18, 12 : ' May the opened earth stand firm, and may a thousand supports stand near : may these dwellings be running with ghnta offerings, and may there always be safety for him there.' ' He then covers (the urn) with a lid, saying, Rv. X. 18,13: ' I raise up the earth all around thee, may I not hurt thee in putting down this slab. May the Pit?/s hold this cairn of thine, may Yama there make seats for thee.' 'Then returning without looking back, and after bathing, they should give him the iS'raddha offering^.' The actual burial is now finished, and it is clear that the Vedic Indians both burnt and buried their dead. The urn into which the bones were deposited ^ See Appendix VI, Note 4. FUNEKAL CEREMONIES. 257 must have been large, and it is strange that none of them, so far as I know, should ever have been dis- covered. The honours to be paid to the dead do not cease, however, with the burial. We saw that at the end of it a /Sraddha offering was to be made. These offerings, meant for the deceased, are continued afterwards during a whole year. After that time they cease to be addressed to him individually, he having taken his place among the three ancestors, father, grandfather, and great-grandfather, and receiving the common >Sraddhas at the times appointed \ Before, however, we proceed to consider this impor- tant branch of the Indian religion, the /S'raddha, Ave have still to follow the mourners to a kind of expia- tory service, which was meant to pacify death, and to guard the survivors against every evil. ' They who have lost a Guru (father, mother, or teacher), or have been afflicted in any other way, should on the day of the new moon perform an expia- tory service. Other authorities fix on the ninth day after death, i.e. on the tenth day, for this ceremony. Before sunrise they should carry the fire and ashes in a receptacle southward, saying, Rv. X. 16, 9 : ' Agni, the flesh-eater, I send away far ; may he, the evil-bringer, go to those who own Yama as their king.' ' They then throw the fire away where four roads meet, or somewhere else, and walk three times round it, turning their left to it, and striking their left thighs with their left hands. They then return home without looking back, wash, have their hair, their ^ On the Sraddhas, see India, What can it tmch us? pp. 234-242, 374-376. (3 S 258 LECTURE IX. beard, the hair of the body, and their nails cut, and procure for themselves new jars, pots, and vessels for rinsing, adorned with wreaths of >S'ami flowers, fuel of iS'ami wood, two pieces for kindling fire and (fifteen) for laying round it, also dung of bulls, a hide, fresh butter, a stone, and as many bunches of Kusa grass as there are young women (in the house). Then at the time of the Agnihotra (in the afternoon) he (the oldest person present) should kindle the fire, saying, Rv. X. 16, 9 : • But here may this other (Agni) Gatavedas, cany the sacrifice to the gods, knowing (how to do it).' ' Keeping that fire burning they sit until the still night, repeating the tales of the old, and having sacred stories, such as Itihasas and Purartas, recited to them. ' When all sounds have ceased, and when (others) have gone to their house or resting-place, he (the per- former), stepping from the south side of the door to the north, should pour out a continuous stream of water, reciting a verse (Rv. X. 16, 9). ' Having then lit a fire (aupasana), he spreads west of it the hide of a bull, its neck turned to the east, and the hair outside, and asks the people of the house (amatya), to step on it, saying, Rv. X. J 8, 6 : * Mount up the life, choosing old age, striving forward, as many as you are, one after the other. Tvash/n' who grants good offspring may graciously yield you here a long life to live.' ' He should then place logs round the fii'e, the first with the words, Rv. X. 18, 4: *This fence I place for the living, may no other of these here go to that place ; may they live through full a hundred harvests, hiding death with this stone.' 'While he says, " hiding death with this stone," he FUNEEA.L CEREMONIES. 259 places a stone north of the fire. He then recites four verses, and sacrifices with each, Rv. X. 18, 1 : * 0 Death, go off on another path, that is thy own, and different from the way of the gods. I speak to tliee who hast eyes to see and ears to hear, do not hurt our offspring, or our men ! * ' Be pure and clean, ye who are partakers in the sacrifice, so that, effacing the track of death, ye may continue a longer life, abound- ing in offspring and wealth.' 'Then follow two verses, translated before. He should then look at his people (amatya) and recite, Rv. X. 18, 5 : ' As days follow one another, as seasons go rightly with seasons, so shape our lives, O Creator, that the young may not leave the old behind.' ' The young women should then with some young Darbha-blades take fresh butter, and anoint their eyes with the thumbs and fore-fingers of both hands (at the same time) ; and after that turn round and throw (the blades) away. While they are anointing themselves, the performer should look at them and say, Rv. X. 18, 7 : 'These women, not widows, but having good husbands, may anoint themselves with collyi'ium and butter. Without tears, without ailments, and well adorned, may the wives go first to the house ^' This has indeed proved a fatal verse to thousands of women who have been burnt on the pile with their husbands, on the strength of a spurious reading. ' They should go fii'st to the house ' is in the text yonim agre. By changing agre into agneA, the line would mean, ' They should go into the house, or into the lap of Agni (fire).' This reading was foisted into the Veda, and after that, widow-burning was represented as having a sacred authority in the Veda. ^ For other readings of this verse, see Rajendralal Mitra, I. c, p. 52. The Taitt. Ar., VI. 10, 8, reads ^iiganena, sarpisha sam mrtsa- ntam, which Rajendralal Mitra translates, ' let the women smear themselves with collyrious butter.' S2 260 LECTURE IX. ' Then the performer should first touch the stone, (the others after him), saying, Rv. X. 53, 8 : 'The river full of stones flows on ; hold together, rise up, and move on, O friends ! Let us leave here those who are luckless ; we shall turn out on lucky raids.' ' Then, while the others walk round with the fire, with the dung of the bull, and with an uninterrupted stream of water, the performer, stationing himself to the north-east, should recite the verse, Rv. X. 155, 5 : ' They have led the cow round, they have taken the fire round, they have given praise to the gods, — who then will defy them ?' ' While they pour out the stream of water, they recite three verses, Rv. X. 9, 1 : ' You are truly the blissful waters, give us strength, that we may see great rejoicing,' &c. ' Whatever is your best sap, let us here share in it, like loving mothers/ &c. ' A brown bull should be led round, thus they say. ' Then they sit down where they like, covering them- selves with a new garment, and they sit till sunrise without sleeping. ' When the sun has risen they repeat the hymns sacred to the sun and benedictions, prepare food, and offer libations with every verse, while reciting the hymn, Rv. I. 97, " May he by his light drive evil away from us," S:c. 'After having fed the Brahmans, he should make them repeat a benediction. 'A cow, a metal jar, and a new garment form the priestly fee.' I have given you this description of an ancient Indian funeral in full, because it is less known than the funeral ceremonies of Greeks and Romans, and FUNEKAL CEREMONIES. 261 may serve as a typical instance of an ancient Aryan funeral. Funeral Ceremonies in Greece. We do not possess the same minute accounts of the funeral among Greeks and Romans. There was prob- ably more local variety with regard to funeral rites in different parts of Greece and Italy than there was in India, if indeed we may judge of the whole of India by the literature preserved by the Brahmans. Still, making allowance for the greater spirit of independence and the more restricted influence of a priestly caste among Greeks and Romans, we can gain some general idea at least of what their funeral was, and we can discover in their customs also some indications of the thoughts which they had formed about the dead ^. The Greek language has preserved a curious relic which testifies to the ancient and wide-spread custom of burning as antecedent to burying. The verb dcLTTTa), which means to bury, must originally have meant to burn. All scholars agree that ^aTr-ro) and rdcjyos are connected with the Sanskrit root dah, which means to burn and to burn only. It is a root common to several of the Aryan languages, and wherever it occurs, it means to burn. It must therefore have had the same meaning in Greek also (as we see in the name Daphne) ^, and have lost it when burying took the place of burning. A similar transition of meaning ^ Fuller information on funerals in Greece may be found in Manuals of Greek Antiquities, such as K. T. Hermann, Lehrbtich der Griech. Antiqidtdfen, vol. iv, Privatalterthiimer. See also Rohde's treatise, Psyche, Seelencult und UtisterbUchkeiisglaube, 1890. ^ Science of Language, vol. ii. p. 621, n. 262 LECTURE IX. has been pointed out by Schott in some of the words for burying in the Ural-Altaic languages. In Greece it was primarily the duty of the son to bury his father. This was a duty from which nothing could release him. A son might under certain circum- stances be released from his obligation to support his father during life, but after death the law of Solon, as quoted by Aeschines (Timarch. 13), made it incumbent on him to bury his father and to perform all that was considered right (a-noOavovTa 8' avTov OaTTriro} kol raXXa TTotetro) TO. I'OjjLiCoiJieva). If, however, there was no son and no relative to perform the last sacred rites, the whole community or the Demos was held responsible for the proper disposal of the dead body, or, during war, the General. The vengeance of the gods was believed to fall on all who left a corpse unburied. It was not only a crime, it was felt to be an ayos, a sin, probably because there was the old belief among the Greeks that the dead found no rest or could not enter Hades till their body had been burnt or buried, and that they would haunt the abode of their relatives and friends till this last duty had been performed. There is a meaning in most customs, and even mere super- stitions have generally a foundation of truth. It was the custom in Greece that the nearest relative should close the eyes and the mouth of the departed, that the women should wash and anoint the body, clothe it in clean garments, as in India, and then leave it on a couch in the interior of the house. Here people might come to see it, and it was usual at Athens to place a vessel full of water near the door, so that these who had become impure by entering the house, might purify themselves. The purifying by touching FUNEKAL CEREMONIES. 263 water was mentioned in India also. The house with the dead in it was considered impure, though that is hardly the right translation for fxtapos in Greek, or for asau/oa in Sanskrit, both conveying the feeling of awe, with which the Greek felt inspired by death, rather than the sense of actual impurity. Even the water, in order to be pure, had to be fetched from another house. While the dead body was exposed in the house, various marks of affection were bestowed on it. If we may judge from legal enactments, forbidding the killinof of sacrificial animals and restraininsc the excessive wailing of women, before the body was carried away (iK