Joseph Deniker

II. SOCIOLOGICAL CHARACTERS—continued.

2. PSYCHIC LIFE: Games and Recreations—Their importance—Games of children and adults—Sports and public spectacles—Masks—Fine Arts—Graphic arts—Ornamentation—Drawing—Sculpture—Dancing—Its importance among uncultured peoples—Pantomime and dramatic art—Vocal and instrumental music—Instruments of music—Poetry—Religion—Animism—Its two elements: belief in the soul, and belief in spirits—Fetichism—Polytheism—Rites and ceremonies—Priesthood—International religions—Myths—Science—Art of counting—Geometry—Calculation of time—Clocks and calendars—Geography and cartography—Medicine and surgery.

2. PSYCHIC LIFE.

Games and Recreations.—In two works based on carefully observed facts, Groos has shown that animals do not expend all their muscular and psychic energy in procuring the means of material existence, but, further, expend this energy in games, which are really a process of training, of education. In a greater degree is this the case with man, that animal whose psychical life has expanded so enormously.[218] In fact, games are the first manifestations of the psychical life not only of man individually but of mankind as a whole.

It is necessary to distinguish between the games of children and those of adults. The former are above all imitation, while the latter aim at either gaining an advantage or demonstrating muscular or mental strength and skill.

The boys of “savages” handle tiny bows and lassoes made by themselves, and hunt toy guancos, birds, and turtles made of clay and wood, in imitation of their fathers; while the little girls treat their rag dolls as actual children, repeating the gestures and words of their mothers. It is the imitative game of the young.

But if the object of the game is to exercise the strength and skill, it becomes common to children and adults. It is such with the game of hand-ball, known to all peoples with the exception perhaps of the Negroes; and stilts, which are met with in Europe, China, Eastern Africa, and Polynesia. Side by side with these games in which muscular skill plays the principal part, there are others in which attention and quickness of the senses are put to the test. To guess in which hand some object is hidden is a recreation among the Tlinkits, as among Europeans. Among the Hottentots this game is complicated, inasmuch as it is necessary to point out by a special position of the fingers the hand of the partner which is supposed to conceal the object, thus recalling the very ancient game known to the Egyptians, and called by the Romans mirare digitis, which survives at the present time under the name of “Morra” in Italy.

This is how it is played:—Simultaneously each partner, putting out his hand, shows whatever number of fingers he may think fit, bending the others, and at the same moment mentioning a number; he whose figure equals the sum of the fingers stretched out by the two partners wins the game. It is evident that this game, known in absolutely the same form in China, is already a game of chance. It is the same with most games played with dice, whether the latter be represented by true dice (China, prehistoric Europe), or by otter’s teeth, seeds, etc., variously marked or coloured (Indians of North America), or by sheep’s astragali (Central Asia, Persia, etc.). Lotto is known to the Chinese, the Siamese, etc., and it was the Celestials who introduced roulette or the thirty-four animal games into Indo-China.[219]

The chief intellectual game is chess, invented in India; varieties of chess are the game of draughts, known wherever European civilisation penetrates, and the game of Uri or Mugole, spread by the Arabs throughout the whole of Africa from Madagascar to Senegal. The object used in this latter game is a block of wood with 16, 24, or 32 little cups disposed in two or four rows, in which the aim is to place in a certain way a certain number of little stones or seeds. A third variety of the game of chess, backgammon, holds a middle place between Uri and the game of dice, and in consequence is half a game of chance. It is known under the name of Tob in Egypt and Palestine, of Pachisi in India, and of Patolitzli in ancient Mexico.[220]

Dance of Australians

FIG. 59.—Dance of Australians during the Corroboree or ceremony of initiation.
(Drawn by P. Moutet, partly after Brough Smyth and Sav. Kent.)

Sports and Spectacles.—Hand-to-hand contests so prized by the Japanese and the Mongols, horse-races esteemed by all nomads, the superb nautical sports practised of old by the Hawaiians, in which, standing upright or astraddle on a canoe, they descended cataracts several metres in height,[221] and so many other sports still form, as it were, a link between games properly so called, giving pleasure to those taking part in them, and spectacles, which give pleasure to others. Most spectacles are composed of the dance, pantomime, scenic representations, music and song, of which I shall presently treat. Outside the manifestation of these arts, public spectacles are confined almost everywhere to the different ceremonies, festivals, and processions connected with various rites or customs (initiation, common marriages, worship of the dead, etc.), or to jugglery, exhibition of animals, acrobatic performances, sleight-of-hand tricks, etc., most of which have originated in India. To these we must add combats between men and animals or between animals themselves, the best known of which are the bull-fights so dear to the Hispano-Portuguese of Europe and America, and the cockfights which have had ardent supporters not only in England and the United States, but also in Spanish America, all over the Malay Archipelago, etc. In China and Siam people are less blood-thirsty; they are content to look at contests between crickets, grasshoppers, and fishes.

FIG. 60.—Anthropomorph
ornamental design of the
Papuans of New Guinea.
(After Haddon.)

Masks play an important part in festivals, ceremonies, and spectacles, as in so many other manifestations of the social life of uncivilised and half-civilised peoples (religion, war, justice). Let us merely mention the fantastic masks used in dances and processions among the Javanese and the Dyaks, and especially those of the Melanesians; certain of them are made of cocoa-nuts, with an imitation of the beard and moustache in the fibres of this fruit, others have the human skull as a groundwork. The Papuans are very skilful in making masks with tortoise shells, etc.[222]

The Arts.—Artistic manifestations are distinguished from games by this fact, that their object is not only to afford pleasure to the artist himself during the execution of his work, but also to cause this pleasure to be shared by the greatest possible number of his fellow-beings. These manifestations are called forth then by the sentiment of human sociability, and the more they are developed in an ethnic group the higher this group is from the point of view of social organisation.

The Graphic Arts.—It is often among the less advanced and more uncultured peoples that we find very skilful draughtsmen. And here it is necessary to make a distinction between design properly so called, whether it be on the flat surface, in bas-relief, engraved, etc., and what is generally called ornamental or decorative art. The latter exists among almost all peoples (except perhaps the Fuegians), and does not always spring from artistic feeling. Sometimes vanity, the desire to possess the most ornate object, inspires the hand of the artist, who almost always, among the uncivilised, is not a professional. The characteristic trait of the decorative art of primitive peoples is that every leading idea is inspired by real objects; there are no lines purely and voluntarily ornamental, and still less are there geometric figures, as was thought until recent times. All the supposed figures of this class are simplified drawings of animals, inanimate objects, etc.[223] The most frequent ideas are inspired by animals (zoomorphs), men (anthropomorphs), and manufactured objects (skeuomorphs); those which are drawn from plants (phyllomorphs) are excessively rare (Haddon).

Fig. 60 shows us, for example, in an engraving on a bark belt executed by a Papuan, the human face transformed into an ornamental motive. At the extremity of the object is still plainly seen a face with both eyes, and a mouth widely opened showing a fine set of teeth; lower down, perpendicularly to this, we see two faces with only the mouth and a single eye left, its companion having strayed into the intervening space between the two faces. Another example: the head of the frigate bird, a favourite ornamental motif of the half-Melanesian populations of the south-east extremity of New Guinea, is plainly visible in the middle of the second row, and throughout the fourth row of ornaments on a club (Fig. 61), but it is transformed into arabesques on the other rows. Overlapping in a certain order, this head is transformed into spiral ornaments (Fig. 62). In the same way, among the ancient inhabitants of Chiriqui (Isthmus of Panama) the already somewhat diagrammatic figure of the alligator (Fig. 63) is transformed into ornament (Fig. 64) in which it would be difficult, without the presence of intermediate forms, to find a resemblance to the reptile in question. Among the Karayas of Central Brazil ornaments like those reproduced here (Fig. 65) are simplified forms of lizards (A), bats (B), of the skin of a rattle-snake (C), and of another snake (D).[224] Imitations of manufactured objects, drawing of cords, arrangement of fibres in a tissue, etc., are often suggested by the mode of manufacture of the decorated object—for example, in pottery by the impress of the woven basket which has served as a mould in the manufacture of the pot, etc. (see p. 154). Often the entire object is transformed into ornament and becomes unsuitable for the use to which it was intended, such as the double fish-hooks in mother-of-pearl of the islanders of the Torres Straits,[225] and the ornamental and symbolic axes of the Polynesians of the Hervey Islands or Cook’s Archipelago (Fig. 67).

It is interesting to note that the more a people loves ornament, the less it is capable of producing drawings properly so called. Thus the Polynesians, the Malays, the Indians of North-west America, are past-masters in ornamentation, but they draw badly; while the Australians, whose ornaments are rudimentary, paint on the polished surfaces of rocks and grottos, in white, red, and yellow, large pictures representing hunting scenes, “corroborees,” also human faces with a sort of aureole around them (hair?), but almost always without a mouth. The Bushmen, whose tools and arms bear no ornament, have also their great rock-pictures. We can form an idea of them by the annexed reproduction of a picture drawn on the wall of a cave near Hermon, and published by Andree.[226] It represents Bushmen, who have carried off the cattle of the Bechuanas, engaged in a struggle with the latter, who are pursuing them. All the details of the picture are well observed, even to the form and coats of the oxen, the respective colours, stature, and arms of the combatants (the little yellow Bushmen armed with bows, and the tall, black Bechuanas armed with assagais). The Melanesians are as skilful in ornamentation as in drawing, their drawing having a tendency to become transformed into pictography; pictography has almost entirely swallowed up drawing among the Indians of North America, but it reappears among the Hyperboreans (Eskimo, Chukchi, Yakuts, Tlinkits). What all these primitive drawings lack is perspective and relief; we should also look in vain for it in the art of half-civilised peoples like the Chinese, the Hindus, the Persians, the Cambodians.

Sculpture, which like drawing is met with even among the remains of quaternary man in Europe (Fig. 85), attains little development among uncultured peoples in general. The carved wooden articles of the Melanesians and Negroes, the gigantic statues of the Polynesians of Easter Island, the figures in low relief of the monuments of the ancient Peruvians, Mexicans, and Khmers, the numerous little figures in wood or potter’s clay of the Malays, Negroes, etc., are not superior to the stage of development of Egyptian and Greek art earlier than the fifth century B.C., in which the median or sagittal plan of the human body is always straight, vertical, and never distorted. Even if there is an assemblage of two or more figures, their lines are always either parallel or perpendicular to each other.[227] Needless to say that among many peoples “national art” has been profoundly modified by an adopted religion, which has introduced or created an art of its own (prohibition against representations of human figures by Islam, conventional postures in Buddhist drawings, etc.).

Dancing.—The productions of the graphic arts charm the eye after completion; those of the musical arts are enjoyed only while being performed. But there is an art which combines these two modes of Æsthetic enjoyment: it is dancing. Its plastic attitudes are so many pictures, and its movements have a rhythm like music.

This art, sunk among civilised peoples to the level of a simple amusement, plays a large part in the life of uncultured peoples. Thus the great nocturnal festivals of the Australians, the “Corroborees” (Fig. 59), celebrated in connection with important events, are only a succession of very varied dances, strictly regulated, and executed by young men trained a long time beforehand by the elders of the tribe for these choregraphic exercises. Men alone take part in them, as in all serious affairs; women are only there as spectators or musicians. It is by dancing alone that, among uncultured peoples, joy in common is expressed in regard to a happy event which affects the whole tribe. Let us also note that these dances are executed by a gathering of individuals who have given proof of their solidarity, having sacrificed part of their liberty by submitting to the discipline of the elders in order to afford pleasure to the people of their tribe. The joy, moreover, is mutual, for the performers “feel” the dance without seeing it, and the spectators witness it without experiencing the immediate effects of movement.

Dancing is then a great school of “solidarity” in primitive societies; more than any other act, it brings into prominence the benefits of sociality. But this favourable result is only possible in the smaller groupings, in which at least half of the society may take part in the dance; this condition no longer exists in civilised societies, numbering millions on millions of members: thus in these societies the choregraphic art is in a complete state of decay.

Dances of the character of “corroborees” are a step towards the ritual dances which play so great a part in most religions. I may instance the epileptic dances of the Siberian and American Shamans, or the Negro fetich-worshippers, the gyrations of the Dervishes, the masked ballets performed by the Buddhist-Lamaite priests, the sacred dances of the Levites among the ancient Jews, etc. Christianity retained the dance in its rites even until the eighth century, and one may still see the partial survival of it in what takes place in Seville Cathedral during the Easter festival. Dancing assumed a sacred character by being conjoined with a symbolic mimicry, especially as connected with offerings, with sacrifices, or with religious ecstasy.

But it has also evolved in another direction by having associated with it two other species of mimicry, one recalling strife and battles, the other love. Hence come warlike dances and lascivious dances. The latter have this characteristic, that they are performed either solely by women—as, for example, the “Hula-Hula” of the Hawaiians—or by both sexes (Eskimo), and very seldom by men alone (the “Kaoro” of the Australians, performed at the advent of the marriage season, or the time of the yam harvest). Moreover, it may be presumed that the alternating dances of men and women were, at the beginning of societies, a powerful aid to sexual selection.

The movements performed during the dance vary with every people, and also according to the nature of the dance. The Australians leap, advance suddenly, then fall back with threatening or lascivious gestures, as the case may be (Fig. 59); Negroes add to the steps and innuendoes movements of the head and pelvis. Among most Asiatics (Chinese, Japanese, Malays) men do not dance, and in the case of women, the choregraphic art degenerates into a series of rhythmical movements of the arms and trunk, without change of position. It is to mimicry, that is to say, the first step towards pantomime, that dances imitating the movements of animals (Eskimo, Araucans) owe their origin. The pantomime of the uncultured, like their dancing, is always accompanied by music and song, sometimes by masks and disguises. We have but to develop the share of song and recitation, to render the music less dependent on the rhythm, in order to transform these exercises into real dramatic representations.[228]

Vocal and instrumental music are the common property of mankind as a whole. There is no people that does not know at least how to hum an air of a few notes; and rare are those who have no instrument of music (Fuegians, certain Micronesians, Veddahs). The music of uncivilised peoples is most frequently reduced to one only of its elements, rhythm,—better understood when we bear in mind that the greater part of the time it forms only the accompaniment of dancing. Melody and harmony are reduced to their simplest expressions.[229] And yet in the opinion even of specialists it is very difficult to note the airs of “savages,” and three-fourths of the notations published in different works are incorrect. That is the result of these airs having been written down according to our scale, which is heptatonic. Now this scale, although existing even among many uncivilised peoples, is not the only one which is used.

We find them using certain successions of sounds with fixed intervals, that is to say, true scales of two, three, and even six sounds. Most frequently “natural tones” (tonic, third, fifth) form the scale (Bushmen). The airs of uncivilised peoples are often in the minor tone, for example, the following Fuegian air, transcribed by Carfort:—[230]

In fine, the scale being merely a convention based on the construction of instruments, the most perfect of which, like our violin, can only give half-tones or, exceptionally, quarter or third tones, there can be no such thing as a “natural scale.” It is the musical instruments of a people that determine the scale it uses; thus the study of these instruments should precede that of singing.[231]

As the most primitive music may be reduced to rhythm alone, the earliest musical instruments were objects serving to beat time; pieces of wood clapped together, as still seen to-day among the Annamese, or rude drums like those which the Australian women use during the corroborees—a cloak of opossum skin stretched between the thighs, on which they tap with a stick (Fig. 59). But, like castanets, the triangle, etc., these, properly speaking, are not instruments of music producing a scale, or at any rate a series of varying sounds. Three kinds of true musical instruments may be distinguished—wind instruments, string instruments, and percussion instruments. Of wind instruments the most ancient is probably the flute or the shepherd’s pipe of cane, bamboo, animal or human bone, etc., as seen among the Botocudos and the Yurunas of Xingu (Brazil).[232] The bow was the first corded instrument; the Kafirs and Negroes of Angola “play on the bow” by attaching to it a gourd and tightening at will by means of a sliding ring the cord which they play (Fig. 135). As to instruments of percussion: the most generally used among the Negroes are the SansÁ, a sort of musical box (Fig. 68), and the xylophone, a kind of piano (Fig. 69). The most uncivilised peoples, however, have composite instruments; as, for instance, the “gora” of the Bushmen (Figs. 70 and 71).[233]

The harp of the Kafirs and the gora give forth only feeble sounds, and serve chiefly to satisfy the musical taste of the performer; they are scarcely heard by the others. This fact, like others, proves that music is a less powerful means of socialisation than dancing; it affords joys more intimate, more individual, except when it is reduced to what is its least musical element so to speak—rhythm; then the part it plays is a considerable one, especially in warlike manifestations. No army has been able to do without music.

Poetry.—Singing and poetry are indistinguishable during the early stages of civilisation. The poetic productions of uncultured peoples have as yet been very little studied,[234] but from what is known about them it appears that the earliest creations of this kind are repeated rhythmical phrases, expressing the most common sensations, and concerned chiefly with the digestive functions: complaint in regard to hunger, the pleasure experienced after feasting, or a desire for certain articles of food as expressed in this song of the Australian—

Afterwards come the emotions of hunting: the jubilation at having killed an animal, recitatives after the manner of the following:—

War-songs are not unknown to Australian savages, but the beauties of nature and the feelings of love are subjects only occasionally met with in the poetry of uncivilised hunters. They begin to appear among the Eskimo, and are highly developed among half-civilised nomads, contemplators of nature, whose lyric poetry is sometimes inspired by very elevated feelings, as is shown, for example, by Kalmuk songs.[235] As to epic poetry, it is met with only among half-civilised peoples who possess a history.

Religion.—For a considerable time now the question has been discussed by ethnographers, theologians, and moralists, whether or not there exist peoples without a religion. The answer to this question depends entirely on the meaning we give to religion. If by this word is meant an acknowledged revealed doctrine, accompanied by a well-ordered ritual and a strongly organised priesthood, as implied in current speech, or even if it simply means the belief in “beings superior to man” and in “a future beyond the tomb,” as Quatrefages would use it,[236] there are certainly peoples who have nothing of this kind. If, on the contrary, we content ourselves with the minimum definition of religion, given by E. B. Tylor,[237] “belief in spiritual beings,” it is difficult to find a tribe on the earth which has not this belief. I should like to modify a little this definition of Tylor’s by substituting “imaginary beings” for “spiritual,” to indicate clearly their psychological origin, for it is in beings entirely created out of their imagination that savages believe.

This belief originates chiefly in the fear of unusual or extraordinary events, and especially of disease and death. Sometimes the idea of a “spiritual being” is so inseparable from the sensation of fear that it only presents itself when the latter occurs. Thus the Fuegian Yahgan have no clear idea of “spirits,” and it is only at dusk under the influence of fear that they imagine themselves to be attacked by the “savages of the west,” by the “Walapatu,” which some of them regard as ghosts, and others quite simply as individuals of a neighbouring tribe, that of the Alakalufs.[238]

But cases of this kind are rare, and most uncivilised peoples have the rudiments of natural religion a little more developed, a belief in spirits less vague. We may, with the eminent ethnologist Tylor, give the name of “Animism” to this primitive religion.

Animism in the most primitive forms consists in believing that the body of a man contains another more subtle being, a “soul,” capable of being temporarily separated from its envelope, and admitting further that everything that exists, beasts, plants, stones, down to objects fashioned by hand, have equally a soul which is endowed with corresponding qualities. Thus the Shans of the Kieng-Tung (upper Burma) believe that the soul leaves the body of a man asleep in the form of an iridescent butterfly;[239] the Malays have the same ideas, and take care on that account not to awaken a man asleep. His observation of the shadow which exactly repeats every movement of a man, of reflections in the water, may confirm a savage in his animistic beliefs, but what especially establishes them are the dreams and visions during which he lives another life and is “another man.” Death is considered as a separation of man from his shadow or his soul, something like the separation which is effected during sleep. Most frequently it is the breath, the air breathed out, which represents the immaterial being that forsakes the body. Thus, among the natives of Nias Island, the one to become chief is he who succeeds, sometimes not without a desperate struggle with his rivals, in swallowing the last breath of the dying chief.[240] Besides, for the most part uncivilised people think that death is only a prolonged sleep, and it is on that account that some are accustomed to keep the corpse as long as possible, sometimes until putrefaction sets in, in their huts or in the immediate neighbourhood (see p. 243). They imagine that the soul seeks to re-enter the body, and if it does not find it, wanders restlessly around the dwellings, and is angry with the living who have hidden the body from it. Cases of lethargy, of hypnotic sleep, of fainting-fits, which strike the imagination the more forcibly because more rare than ordinary sleep, confirm the belief in the separation of man and his double. In fine, the mind of a savage does not regard death as a natural phenomenon, but as a violent and very prolonged separation of man and his soul.

But what is the cause of this separation? Here comes in the second element of animism, the belief in “spirits,” imaginary beings who take the most diverse forms, like the soul itself. Sometimes the “soul” of a dead man is also a “spirit”; there are here no subtle distinctions. However, what especially differentiates “spirits” from “souls” is this, that the former are more active, that they constantly take part in human affairs, so that the whole life of a savage is passed in compromises or continual struggles with spirits. Every disease, every misfortune, every death, comes from the angry “spirit.” Happily, side by side with wicked spirits, who are legion, there are encountered from time to time benevolent ones, who become protectors, or “patrons” of men. Most frequently these are the “souls” of the old men of the tribe, of the “ancestors.” As these old men have ordinarily endowed the tribe or the family with some material advantage by giving during life counsels dictated by their long experience, they are laid under contribution after death. Their memory is recalled in times of misfortune, and advice is asked of them. This is the origin of ancestor worship.

The number of spirits is infinite, there is a whole world of them. Every object, sometimes every category of objects, has its spirit, and as objects may be made so spirits may be created, or at least may be made to communicate to objects a portion of their power. This circumstance gives birth to fetichism,[241] which is only one of the sides of animism, one of the grossest forms. Fetichistic peoples consider certain objects called fetiches, gris-gris, etc., as beings endowed with an inherent will and power. Every object, a piece of wood, a bundle of grass, a stone, a nail, a claw, a lock of hair, a horn, a rag, a bit of string, may become fetiches; the material value of the object bears no relation to its power as a fetich; the most insignificant things may be the greatest fetiches.[242] As to the relations which exist between spirits and objects, they are of a twofold character: either the fetich is regarded as an animated being, as the material envelope of a spirit, or it is only an instrument by which the existence of the spirit is manifested, a vehicle in some way of part of its power. It must be remarked, however, that the two forms of connection between the spirit and the material object are frequently interblended, and a fetich to which sacrifices are offered as to a living being, may become a simple amulet preserving its possessor from wounds or any other misfortune. Fetichism is the first step towards idolatry, but it is essentially distinguished from it in that idols are only images, representations of certain supernatural beings, whilst fetiches are these beings themselves, or at least the direct vehicles of a portion of their power. The boundary line between idolatry and fetichism is, however, often difficult to define exactly.

Animism with its variants, more or less developed, is the religion of all uncivilised peoples untouched by international or universal religions: Buddhism, Christianity, Mahomedanism, etc., and even among those who have accepted one of these religions, animistic ideas persist with great obstinacy.

How many Christian peasants there are who believe as firmly in spirits, in ghosts, in guardian genii of cattle and crops, as in the various saints of the church with whom they sometimes confound them! Besides, spirits, such as angels and demons, are admitted by most Christian churches. Fetichistic practices also form part of the outer worship of Lamaite Buddhism and Taoism, and they are not only tolerated but prescribed by other universal religions. I need but mention the amulets, talismans, scapularies, miracle-working relics, etc., among Mahomedans (Figs. 139 and 140) and Christians (Fig. 161).

Worship of Natural Objects and Phenomena.—It is impossible to review even the principal forms which animism assumes. As society grows and develops, the notion of the soul and of spirits is transferred from the more immediate objects surrounding man to objects more remote and the phenomena of nature. The latter, by reason of their greatness or violence, are regarded as spirits much higher and more powerful than the others. They become superior divinities entitled to “worship.” Thus we have the worship of water (sacred rivers, Ganges, Nile), worship of plants and especially trees (sacred forests of the Gauls, the Germans, the Finns, the Papuans), the worship of animals and more especially birds (the eagle of the Aztecs and the Peruvians, the ibis of the Egyptians), and serpent-worship (prevalent everywhere, but principally in India and Western Africa).

The worship of the elements varies according to the kind of life led by a people; the succession of climates, the rain which gives life to the seed, the sun which burns the grasses, etc., are incarnations of so many divinities for agricultural peoples, while they have no importance for peoples living by the chase. Fire is considered as a divinity by several peoples (see p. 153). The adoration of fire was the ancient religion of the Persians, and is still preserved to-day among certain Parsees of India: we pass over the god Xiuhtecutli, “lord of fire,” of the ancient Mexicans, the goddess Vesta of the Romans, etc. Often the worship of the sun was combined with that of fire, and the ancient solar festivals sung by Ovid have become the midsummer eve bonfires, which the clergy still bless every year in several places in Lower Brittany. I can only mention the legends relating to the divine origin of fire, which all resemble more or less that of Prometheus (the Mahonika of the Polynesians, the Tleps of the Circassians, etc.). The difference between the great spirits which animate the phenomena of nature and the little spirits concerned with the trivial facts of man’s daily life once admitted, there is established a hierarchy in the world of spirits entirely modelled on the hierarchy of human society. Above gnomes, elves, demons, sprites, and so many common spirits, we find among the Khonds[243] the six great gods (of rain, first-fruits, procreation, hunting, war, and boundaries), who in their turn are governed by the sun-god and his wife, the powerful goddess of the earth. The religion of the Khonds is already polytheism, and this may end either in the dualism of two contrary principles (the germs of which are seen in the example quoted above, and which are impersonated by Ormuzd and Ahriman of the religion of Zoroaster) or in pantheism or monotheism.

Religion and Morality.—Animistic religion is destitute of the moral element which many persons consider inseparable from religion. Its code of morals has nothing to do with religion; it is based on public opinion and social conventions independent of beliefs. It is only in the more developed forms of polytheistic or monotheistic religions, and especially in those whose ministers sought to have an effective influence on the people, that the moral element was introduced little by little and placed beside the dogmatic and ritual element.[244] If the survival of the soul and the after-life form part of the beliefs of a great number of uncultured peoples, as shown especially by funereal rites, the life beyond the tomb is for them only the continuation of real life; the country of the dead resembles the country of the living, the same customs flourish there, the same usages, the same kind of life; the Eskimo continue their fishing feats, and may even die there a second time; the Polynesians give themselves up there to the same pleasures as they enjoyed on earth, etc. The other world is only a duplicate of this world, and no idea of justice is connected with it; the evil and the good in it have the same destiny.[245]

Rites and Ceremonies.—What is the nature of the relations of man and spirits in primitive religion? Sometimes an attempt is made to combat the spirits. The Fuegians barricade themselves in their huts and keep themselves armed, in readiness to ward off blows, the whole night long, when they fancy they hear the “walapatu”;[246] the Australians hold an annual celebration for the purpose of getting rid of all the ghosts of the last year’s dead; the Negroes of the Gold Coast assemble together in arms from time to time to drive the evil spirits from their village; rushing about in all directions, with frantic howling, they return home and assert that they sleep more easily, and for a while afterwards enjoy better health.[247] But these contests with spirits are rare, and it is usually found preferable to employ craft against them (hence exorcism, incantation, the use of symbols, etc.), or gentleness (prayer, offerings, sacrifices). The last method, which is most frequently used, develops into an outward cult; the “fetich-house,” like that seen in Dahomey and other Negro countries, becomes transformed into a temple; the place of sacrifice into an altar, and instead of real animals or plants, images of them in paper, butter, clay, etc., are sacrificed, or finer offerings such as grass, flowers, perfumes, etc.

Priesthood.—In the earliest stages of religion man put himself into communication with spirits at his own risk and peril; but as he soon perceived that he was frequently unsuccessful in obtaining what he wished, and could not prevent them laying their spells on him, he was compelled to have recourse to intermediaries. He observed that certain individuals are better fitted to deal with spirits; that they can fall into a trance and remain in this death-like condition long enough to be able to treat with demons, and he came to the conclusion that they were appointed to intercede with spirits for simple mortals and to direct propitiatory ceremonies, offerings, and prayers. It was thus that the priesthood arose, under the form of fetich-men or shamans, who play so important a part in the life of Negroes, the Tunguse peoples and Mongols, and the Indians of North America. All the functions of life, marriage, pregnancy, the entering upon the age of puberty, birth, death, hunting or warlike expeditions, require the offices of the sorcerer, of the shaman, who is usually at the same time a doctor (see below). As society develops, numerically and in civilisation, there is formed a sacerdotal class, which sometimes holds both the temporal power and the civil (as is still the case to-day in certain regions of Africa, and in Thibet). Often side by side with the regular priesthood thus constituted the ancient sorcerers continue to live and to wield great authority over the people; in most of the Lama-Buddhist temples the presence of a sorcerer is admitted for oracles, propitiations, etc.

International Religions.—This is not the place to speak of universal or international religions like Brahmanism, spread over India and the Asiatic archipelago; the once flourishing Buddhism of the south, based on the doctrine of the “little vehicle” (HinÂyÂna), the last remains of which are to be found in Siam and the Island of Ceylon; the Buddhism of the north, or Lamaism, based on the doctrine of the “great vehicle” (MÂhayana), which rules the Thibetan and Mongol world, nor of the other more or less altered forms of this religion, Chinese FoÏsm, Japanese and Annamese Buddhism, Indian Jainism, etc. And we must take for granted as better known the other universal religions, Judaism with its sects which do not acknowledge the Talmud (like the Karaites of the Crimea); Mahomedanism, with its two principal divisions, the sect of Shiahs (Persians) and that of the Sunis (other Mahomedan peoples); Christianity, with its great divisions and numerous sects (Copts, Nestorians, etc.). And we must notice finally the “national religions”—Taoism in China, Shintoism in Japan, Confucianism in both these countries, etc.

Myths.—Myths occupy an intermediate position between science, poetry, and religion, for they try to explain all phenomena while leaving a great deal to the imagination. The infinite variety of myths is only apparent. They all may be reduced to a very limited number of ideas or fancies, which are the same among all peoples. They are all explanations, more or less simple and childish, of the origin of plants, animals, men, the earth, the stars, etc., founded on the idea of animism. The details change according to the nature of the country, but the substance remains always the same. It is a vegetation of fancy more or less luxuriant and beautiful on the common ground of animism. Thus religion and myths are often one and the same thing, since they are derived from a common source, from that habit which primitive men share with children of giving a personality to every object they contemplate, from the sun to a knife, from a blade of grass to the ocean. We cannot dwell longer on this subject, which would require developing at considerable length;[248] I will merely say that on carefully studying myths we find in them psychological data relating to the mode of thinking of a people, rather than indications of the relations and affinity of one people with another, for borrowed details in myths are innumerable among all peoples.[249]

Sciences.—It is only with the rudiments of the sciences that we have to deal in the case of uncivilised and even half-civilised peoples.

The knowledge of numbers exists more or less among all the peoples of the earth. We often say, “Such a people can only count up to three, because it has no special word to denote a higher number.” This reasoning is not always just, for, by adopting it, we might accuse the French of scarcely being able to count beyond sixty, since they have no special words for, say, seventy-five or eighty, and to express these fall back on words already employed in counting—sixty and fifteen or four score. Many savages employ a similar method. Thus the Yahgan Fuegians have only words for the number one (Kaueli), two (KombaÏ), and three (Maten); but they make use of the words AkokombaÏ (literally “the other two,” or “another time two”) to denote four, and Akomaten (the other three) to indicate six.[250]

Certain Australians proceed in a similar manner.[251] If these tribes had been able to continue the same process beyond this point they would have arrived at the duodecimal system; what they lacked for that were objects which should always be within their reach to assist them in this mode of calculation. Peoples who thought of distinguishing by special words the first five figures had at once, in their fingers, an aid to enable them to set up a decimal system. Many South American Indians, Caribs, Tupis, and Tamanacas of the Orinoco count by the fingers, hands, and feet, employing thus the decimal system; instead of five they say “a hand”; instead of ten, “two hands”; instead of twelve, “two hands and two fingers”; instead of fifteen, “two hands and one foot”; instead of twenty, “a man”; and so forth. With the development of civilisation the fingers of the hand are replaced by objects, by little stones, seeds or shells, which are arranged in boxes representing units, tens, etc. From these were derived the abaci of the Chinese and Russians.

Geometry—Calculation of Time.—Measures of distances, surfaces, etc., which gave birth to geometry, are found again among certain uncivilised peoples. The Indians of Veragua find the height of a tree by measuring the distance from which they see it, turning their back and bending the body in such a way that the head is between the outstretched legs; the ancient Egyptians measured the surfaces of their lands empirically by means of geometric figures, etc. The measurement of time by the movement of the stars exists among all peoples, the succession of day and night, and the phases of the moon, being the things easiest to observe. Thus days and months or “moons” are nearly everywhere equal. But it is not the same with regard to the year. It is the succession of vegetation or seasons which determines periods longer than months. Thus the Andamanese count by successions of three seasons (cold, dry, and wet); the Papuans by successions of two seasons (corresponding to the prevailing monsoons), but the epochs at which these seasons arrive do not coincide exactly with lunar divisions, and tallying computation becomes more difficult. Thus, as soon as writing was invented, the more intelligent of the nomadic tribes, especially, turned their attention towards noting coincidences of the position of the sun in relation to the constellations, according to the seasons, for the principal constellations, especially the Great Bear, Orion, the Southern Cross, are known by almost all the peoples of the earth, who have emerged from the state of savages dependent on the chase.

The verification of the time when the year begins (coinciding generally with some commemorative festival) became later the business of State astronomers (Egypt, India), who were at the same time astrologers or magicians.

Calendars and Clocks.—There are yet in China astronomers who periodically harmonise the lunar with the solar year, though, for the ordinary purposes of life, other peoples make use of the solar year calculated either from a reign (as in ancient Egypt), or day by day in a cycle of sixty years, formed by the combination of ten kou (stock) and twelve tchi (branches), as in the Hindu calendar. A similar calendar is found among the ancient Mexicans.[252] In regard to the divisions of the days into hours, they are somewhat uncertain among the Andamanese and Australians, and they begin to assume a definite character only with the introduction of the sundial, as for example among the ZuÑi Indians, who have before nearly every cabin a pillar, the shadow of which serves to indicate the hours. In China and in Corea the use of the candle which burns a certain time is a remnant of the mode of calculating time according to the duration of the fire.[253] The running of water and sand has been utilised, as we know, in the construction of clepsydras and other primitive clocks of classic antiquity and of the Middle Ages.

FIG. 72.—Eskimo geographical map.
(After Holm.)