Rituals, Myths and Religions
Rituals, Myths and ReligionsPREFACECHAPTER I. SYSTEMS OF MYTHOLOGY.CHAPTER II. NEW SYSTEM PROPOSED.CHAPTER III. THE MENTAL CONDITION OF SAVAGES—CONFUSION WITH NATURE—TOTEMISM.CHAPTER IV. THE MENTAL CONDITION OF SAVAGES—MAGIC—METAMORPHOSIS—METAPHYSIC—PSYCHOLOGY.CHAPTER V. NATURE MYTHS.CHAPTER VI. NON-ARYAN MYTHS OF THE ORIGIN OF THE WORLD AND OF MAN.CHAPTER VII. INDO-ARYAN MYTHS—SOURCES OF EVIDENCE.CHAPTER VIII. INDIAN MYTHS OF THE ORIGIN OF THE WORLD AND OF MAN.CHAPTER IX. GREEK MYTHS OF THE ORIGIN OF THE WORLD AND MAN.CHAPTER X. GREEK COSMOGONIC MYTHS.CHAPTER XI. SAVAGE DIVINE MYTHS.Copyright
Rituals, Myths and Religions
Andrew Lang
PREFACE
CHAPTER I. SYSTEMS OF MYTHOLOGY.
The word "Religion" may be, and has been, employed in many
different senses, and with a perplexing width of significance. No
attempt to define the word is likely to be quite satisfactory, but
almost any definition may serve the purpose of an argument, if the
writer who employs it states his meaning frankly and adheres to it
steadily. An example of the confusions which may arise from the use
of the term "religion" is familiar to students. Dr. J. D. Lang
wrote concerning the native races of Australia: "They have nothing
whatever of the character of religion, or of religious observances,
to distinguish them from the beasts that perish". Yet in the same
book Dr. Lang published evidence assigning to the natives belief in
"Turramullun, the chief of demons, who is the author of disease,
mischief and wisdom".(1) The belief in a superhuman author of
"disease, mischief and wisdom" is certainly a religious belief not
conspicuously held by "the beasts"; yet all religion was denied to
the Australians by the very author who prints (in however erroneous
a style) an account of part of their creed. This writer merely
inherited the old missionary habit of speaking about the god of a
non-Christian people as a "demon" or an "evil spirit".
(1) See Primitive Culture, second edition, i. 419.
Dr. Lang's negative opinion was contradicted in testimony published
by himself, an appendix by the Rev. Mr. Ridley, containing evidence
of the belief in Baiame. "Those who have learned that 'God' is the
name by which we speak of the Creator, say that Baiame is
God."(1)
(1) Lang's Queensland, p. 445, 1861.
As "a minimum definition of religion," Mr. Tylor has suggested "the
belief in spiritual beings". Against this it may be urged that,
while we have no definite certainty that any race of men is
destitute of belief in spiritual beings, yet certain moral and
creative deities of low races do not seem to be envisaged as
"spiritual" at all. They are regarded as EXISTENCES, as BEINGS,
unconditioned by Time, Space, or Death, and nobody appears to have
put the purely metaphysical question, "Are these beings spiritual
or material?"(1) Now, if a race were discovered which believed in
such beings, yet had no faith in spirits, that race could not be
called irreligious, as it would have to be called in Mr. Tylor's
"minimum definition". Almost certainly, no race in this stage of
belief in nothing but unconditioned but not expressly spiritual
beings is extant. Yet such a belief may conceivably have existed
before men had developed the theory of spirits at all, and such a
belief, in creative and moral unconditioned beings, not alleged to
be spiritual, could not be excluded from a definition of
religion.(2)
(1) See The Making of Religion, pp. 201-210.
(2) "The history of the Jews, nay, the history of our own mind,
proves to demonstration that the thought of God is a far easier
thought, and a far earlier, than that of a spirit." Father Tyrrell,
S. J., The Month, October, 1898. As to the Jews, the question is
debated. As to our own infancy, we are certainly taught about God
before we are likely to be capable of the metaphysical notion of
spirit. But we can scarcely reason from children in Christian
houses to the infancy of the race.
For these reasons we propose (merely for the purpose of the present
work) to define religion as the belief in a primal being, a Maker,
undying, usually moral, without denying that the belief in
spiritual beings, even if immoral, may be styled religious. Our
definition is expressly framed for the purpose of the argument,
because that argument endeavours to bring into view the essential
conflict between religion and myth. We intend to show that this
conflict between the religious and the mythical conception is
present, not only (where it has been universally recognised) in the
faiths of the ancient civilised peoples, as in Greece, Rome, India
and Egypt, but also in the ideas of the lowest known savages.
It may, of course, be argued that the belief in Creator is itself a
myth. However that may be, the attitude of awe, and of moral
obedience, in face of such a supposed being, is religious in the
sense of the Christian religion, whereas the fabrication of
fanciful, humorous, and wildly irrational fables about that being,
or others, is essentially mythical in the ordinary significance of
that word, though not absent from popular Christianity.
Now, the whole crux and puzzle of mythology is, "Why, having
attained (in whatever way) to a belief in an undying guardian,
'Master of Life,' did mankind set to work to evolve a chronique
scandaleuse about HIM? And why is that chronique the elaborately
absurd set of legends which we find in all mythologies?"
In answering, or trying to answer, these questions, we cannot go
behind the beliefs of the races now most immersed in savage
ignorance. About the psychology of races yet more undeveloped we
can have no historical knowledge. Among the lowest known tribes we
usually find, just as in ancient Greece, the belief in a deathless
"Father," "Master," "Maker," and also the crowd of humorous,
obscene, fanciful myths which are in flagrant contradiction with
the religious character of that belief. That belief is what we call
rational, and even elevated. The myths, on the other hand, are what
we call irrational and debasing. We regard low savages as very
irrational and debased characters, consequently the nature of their
myths does not surprise us. Their religious conception, however, of
a "Father" or "Master of Life" seems out of keeping with the nature
of the savage mind as we understand it. Still, there the religious
conception actually is, and it seems to follow that we do not
wholly understand the savage mind, or its unknown antecedents. In
any case, there the facts are, as shall be demonstrated. However
the ancestors of Australians, or Andamanese, or Hurons arrived at
their highest religious conception, they decidedly possess it.(1)
The development of their mythical conceptions is accounted for by
those qualities of their minds which we do understand, and shall
illustrate at length. For the present, we can only say that the
religious conception uprises from the human intellect in one mood,
that of earnest contemplation and submission: while the mythical
ideas uprise from another mood, that of playful and erratic fancy.
These two moods are conspicuous even in Christianity. The former,
that of earnest and submissive contemplation, declares itself in
prayers, hymns, and "the dim religious light" of cathedrals. The
second mood, that of playful and erratic fancy, is conspicuous in
the buffoonery of Miracle Plays, in Marchen, these burlesque
popular tales about our Lord and the Apostles, and in the hideous
and grotesque sculptures on sacred edifices. The two moods are
present, and in conflict, through the whole religious history of
the human race. They stand as near each other, and as far apart, as
Love and Lust.
(1) The hypothesis that the conception was borrowed from European
creeds will be discussed later. See, too, "Are Savage Gods borrowed
from Missionaries?" Nineteenth Century, January, 1899.
It will later be shown that even some of the most backward savages
make a perhaps half-conscious distinction between their mythology
and their religion. As to the former, they are communicative; as to
the latter, they jealously guard their secret in sacred mysteries.
It is improbable that reflective "black fellows" have been morally
shocked by the flagrant contradictions between their religious
conceptions and their mythical stories of the divine beings. But
human thought could not come into explicit clearness of
consciousness without producing the sense of shock and surprise at
these contradictions between the Religion and the Myth of the same
god. Of this we proceed to give examples.
In Greece, as early as the sixth century B. C., we are all familiar
with Xenophanes' poem(1) complaining that the gods were credited
with the worst crimes of mortals—in fact, with abominations only
known in the orgies of Nero and Elagabalus. We hear Pindar refusing
to repeat the tale which told him the blessed were cannibals.(2) In
India we read the pious Brahmanic attempts to expound decently the
myths which made Indra the slayer of a Brahman; the sinner, that
is, of the unpardonable sin. In Egypt, too, we study the priestly
or philosophic systems by which the clergy strove to strip the
burden of absurdity and sacrilege from their own deities. From all
these efforts of civilised and pious believers to explain away the
stories about their own gods we may infer one fact—the most
important to the student of mythology—the fact that myths were not
evolved in times of clear civilised thought. It is when Greece is
just beginning to free her thought from the bondage of too concrete
language, when she is striving to coin abstract terms, that her
philosophers and poets first find the myths of Greece a
stumbling-block.
(1) Ritter and Preller, Hist. Philos., Gothae, 1869, p. 82.
(2) Olympic Odes, i., Myers's translation: "To me it is impossible
to call one of the blessed gods a cannibal.... Meet it is for a man
that concerning the gods he speak honourably, for the reproach is
less. Of thee, son of Tantalus, I will speak contrariwise to them
who have gone before me." In avoiding the story of the cannibal
god, however, Pindar tells a tale even more offensive to our
morality.
All early attempts at an interpretation of mythology are so many
efforts to explain the myths on some principle which shall seem not
unreasonable to men living at the time of the explanation.
Therefore the pious remonstrances and the forced constructions of
early thinkers like Xenophanes, of poets like Pindar, of all
ancient Homeric scholars and Pagan apologists, from Theagenes of
Rhegium (525 B. C.), the early Homeric commentator, to Porphyry,
almost the last of the heathen philosophers, are so many proofs
that to Greece, as soon as she had a reflective literature, the
myths of Greece seemed impious and IRRATIONAL. The essays of the
native commentators on the Veda, in the same way, are endeavours to
put into myths felt to be irrational and impious a meaning which
does not offend either piety or reason. We may therefore conclude
that it was not men in an early stage of philosophic thought (as
philosophy is now understood)—not men like Empedocles and
Heraclitus, nor reasonably devout men like Eumaeus, the pious
swineherd of the Odyssey—who evolved the blasphemous myths of
Greece, of Egypt and of India. We must look elsewhere for an
explanation. We must try to discover some actual and demonstrable
and widely prevalent condition of the human mind, in which tales
that even to remote and rudimentary civilisations appeared
irrational and unnatural would seem natural and rational. To
discover this intellectual condition has been the aim of all
mythologists who did not believe that myth is a divine tradition
depraved by human weakness, or a distorted version of historical
events.
Before going further, it is desirable to set forth what our aim is,
and to what extent we are seeking an interpretation of mythology.
It is not our purpose to explain every detail of every ancient
legend, either as a distorted historical fact or as the result of
this or that confusion of thought caused by forgetfulness of the
meanings of language, or in any other way; nay, we must constantly
protest against the excursions of too venturesome ingenuity. Myth
is so ancient, so complex, so full of elements, that it is vain
labour to seek a cause for every phenomenon. We are chiefly
occupied with the quest for an historical condition of the human
intellect to which the element in myths, regarded by us as
irrational, shall seem rational enough. If we can prove that such a
state of mind widely exists among men, and has existed, that state
of mind may be provisionally considered as the fount and ORIGIN of
the myths which have always perplexed men in a reasonable modern
mental condition. Again, if it can be shown that this mental stage
was one through which all civilised races have passed, the
universality of the mythopoeic mental condition will to some extent
explain the universal DIFFUSION of the stories.
Now, in all mythologies, whether savage or civilised, and in all
religions where myths intrude, there exist two factors—the factor
which we now regard as rational, and that which we moderns regard
as irrational. The former element needs little explanation; the
latter has demanded explanation ever since human thought became
comparatively instructed and abstract.
To take an example; even in the myths of savages there is much that
still seems rational and transparent. If savages tell us that some
wise being taught them all the simple arts of life, the use of
fire, of the bow and arrow, the barbing of hooks, and so forth, we
understand them at once. Nothing can be more natural than that man
should believe in an original inventor of the arts, and should tell
tales about the imaginary discoverers if the real heroes be
forgotten. So far all is plain sailing. But when the savage goes on
to say that he who taught the use of fire or who gave the first
marriage laws was a rabbit or a crow, or a dog, or a beaver, or a
spider, then we are at once face to face with the element in myths
which seems to us IRRATIONAL. Again, among civilised peoples we
read of the pure all-seeing Varuna in the Vedas, to whom sin is an
offence. We read of Indra, the Lord of Thunder, borne in his
chariot, the giver of victory, the giver of wealth to the pious;
here once more all seems natural and plain. The notion of a deity
who guides the whirlwind and directs the storm, a god of battles, a
god who blesses righteousness, is familiar to us and intelligible;
but when we read how Indra drank himself drunk and committed
adulteries with Asura women, and got himself born from the same
womb as a bull, and changed himself into a quail or a ram, and
suffered from the most abject physical terror, and so forth, then
we are among myths no longer readily intelligible; here, we feel,
are IRRATIONAL stories, of which the original ideas, in their
natural sense, can hardly have been conceived by men in a pure and
rational early civilisation. Again, in the religions of even the
lowest races, such myths as these are in contradiction with the
ethical elements of the faith.